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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (Aug. 13, 1905)
i 43 1 HINTS FROM PARIS ON EARLY FALL STYIJI-gasay- 1 ' 1 ,r - , L1 - t 'J X, i tjummtno axd coiirect fall of skirts. IN all the big workrooms of fashion able dressmaking establishments the silence of. mid-Summer still reigns. It will be quite the middle of September before coutourleres begin work in earnest, and then the Fall styles, which are as yet In the germ, will be fully developed. Meanwhile the heads of the more pretentious houses are seeHing ideas in the fash Ion marts of Europe. Paris drawss ever, the larger number of these chas ers of the butterfly of la mode, but English and Viennese styles have their adherents, so London and Vienna are also ransacked. According to a smart dressmaker of long experience, Viennese fashions, which are thought very dashing here, are merely exaggerations of tho French. Paris decrees short coa tar then the Viennese coat ia under the arms; long coats, and the one from the city of dandy military is down to the heels. So it happens that often some little unknown coutouriere In Paris looks upon the two, strikes a medium and devises a model which starts her on the road to fortune. This model, made in correct material and by the best sewers she can afford, she at once offers to the man dressmaker at fame, and If it deserves immortality he buys it for a good price and offers the de signer an honorable place in his es tablishment. Many a brilliant dress maker in Paris has been started in business In this way, and even a "hand" is sometimes seized with an idea which promotes her to enviable Heights. 'From several of these houses, which have been built up by unflagging vig ilance and excellence, come most Inter esting premonitions of future styles. The great milliners of fashion are like ly to. put forth many an eccentricity, but it is the person who has tolled from the bottom rung of the ladder who will tell you now the thing which will go. So from a mass of colors called by new and old names, dead leaf and seal and sable brown, gull gray and Autumn red, these prescient ones de clare that the gray and duller shades of brown are likely to have a vogue. But black in all probability will be revived as the most elegant day thing and be enormously exploited in rough weave textures by the smart makers. The gamut of time allowed a style in materials has about run for smooth, shining ones, so the next thing cannot help but be their exact opposite. In fact, the wool mills are occupied to a great dogree with materials of ex traordinary roughness, ho much so that the silk manufacturers are becoming alarmed. At Lyons, which is the head quarters of the world for silk, manu facturers have drawn up a petition im ploring Fronch women not to bo in duced into any pronounced neglect of silk. "The matorial of your mothers.' was one sentimental phrase, which Is likely to bring about some result, if not all that is dosircd. To accommodate,' those textures many of which will be In the softest weaves, though with shaggy surfacos fur trimmings will be much used later on. Sleeves of walking gowns will be smaller (doubtless in gigot form), and prevailing styles in coats knee and three-quarter length. Many of the models in the Louis ooats, worn late in the Summer, will also be car ried 'over, with modifications, the length which reaches almost to the bottom of the skirt, being the 'one like ly to be most worn. The changes rung on short fancy coats will be unlimited, for many will be designed especially for the wearer. A charming model in these, already exploited. Is a mantel coat with "bat" tails, made at present of silk, worn with lace skirts. The back of this coat is shirred to a yoke, covered by a small lace and silk collar, and shirred again Into the figure at the waist line, from which It falls with a box-plaited basque tail and deen hip points sug gestive of the open wings of the night bird. The sleeves are either full puffs with flouncing bottoms, reaching a lit tle below the elbow, or else In loose cape form., cut shot enough to display the elaborate lace, embroidery and mull underrieevos of the gown bodice. The front of the coat is loose and slightly drawn In to the waist with a draw ribbon, the garment suggesting a lit tle matinee of the most elegant de scription. A coat of this sort with an evening skirt of white lace was of butter white tafTetn. with gilt tassels at the wing points of the tall. It was very stun ning on the thin, dark girl who ex ploited It, and who wore a hat of white tulle, trlmmod with a black paradir feather, enormously long, and an un der propping of red camcllas. There seems no weakening of the nntl mental hold the itlff and yet beautiful flowers have upon woman of elegance. "The Fall crop of blonioms will be full of them', doubtless." writes a French corre spondent, "for roan milliners are tolling for effects which will have a romantic NEVT COAT SUITS. significance." Gardenias, the same writer declares, will also be used In the same way as undor-dccklngs for elegant street hate, and In wreaths aid pompador orna ment? for evening coiffures. These last are liable to Increase in size, until at the end of the "Winter uncovered heads will have some of the cushioned artificial ef fect of tho long ago. But to return to otrcet gowns and fur trimmings. The outlook for fur is en couraging to the trappers, of wild crea tures, and to the manufacturers and brokers in pelts. The pieces which are being designed are Immense, some of the fiat and round muffo telling of splendors the rich alone may possess. Sable is to be the. favorite skin, but In all probablllty sets of the smooth skins will be made up ap usual In many small and fancy ways. Advices from Paris also predict a very early wearing of fur. Frenchwomen hav ing caught the trick of the London belle, which U' to snort a fur boa and carry a fur muff with the first cool moment. Summer gowiu in pale colors, and often the moat diaphanous materials are thus carried over far Into the Autumn and made charming. For first Fall wear, the.- gowns made late In August are likely to show quite long coat effects. Some of these, how ever, will not be coats In substance, but only In suggestion, for detachable skirts are in project, the coat ending really at the waist, and the long separate tail going on with the girdle. This permits the gown to be worn In the evening with out the coat-tall, and It la a compromise for the overskirt which Ip more threaten ing than ever. .Numerous early designs shown under the rose display draped skirts of soft materials, ominously rem iniscent of the double jupe. Apropos of this particular portion of tho present talk, the drawings show some spe cial Autumn designs In costumes and skirt trimmings, the lines of the skirts depict ing the modish fall for these. The question of the corse't In agitating exclusive) manufacturers tremendously, for there has been an enormous drop In the prices of these Indispensable accesso ries. Women who once paid from' J5 to 110 for boned armor now find dainty cor sets In the shops, for the most trifling wim, fitting with delightful nicety and lasting quite as long. as a corset should last. These follow the - newest cut?, the last cf which is :hest high, though" the front is more curved, and. to' obviate the dlicomfort of these, a number of the longest models are almost entirely elas tic. Such corsets are delightful to wear, as they admit the utmost freedom, while holding the body within stylish bounds. Bur. of course, only slim and medium fig ures should attempt them, fer the fate of the too stout must always be the regula tion coutll corset, made to order. Fas-hlon's new edict against flesh Is per emptory. You must be thin to wear her Autumn and "Winter fashions, even If you live on milk and fruit to do It. "The stylish French figure," says the aforemen tioned correspondent. "Is what Parisians call mince, and what we would call race horse. There Is a lean, high-bred look, for waists are very tiny and the newest street sleeve (Jogots) merely wrinkling a little more freely than gloves over the arms. "With this dapper, thin-armed sllmnesa the bigness ot the coiffure and the perkl- ness and massed undertrlmmlngs of hats' make head? all out of proportion. They look grotesquely big sometimes." As to the new headgear, authoritative predictions dwell with suggestive elo quence on high crowns and squarish Eng lish shapes for walking. These, however, will be trimmed softly with long, fluffy ostrich feathers and masses ot under decking, which in some instances will tilt them forward In the old way. Great square buckles covered with fabrics silk, velvet, etc., shirred on In many cm mental ways are also likely to be a mod ish feature of millinery, att of whkh VSl retain much of the present smal!nesa rC outline. There will be a great vogue f-r short, wide ostrich feathers the sort tt hang from the stem like fringes-ar.1 tv longer of these will be put on wIk!-g hats to fall with something of an bo hind. No brlmless turbans, which li i"y way suggest the funny pill-boxes cf tK Summer, will be seen. Even now fha polo turban Is a ghost a damaged Suns mer specter that only dares show ltse.f out of town. In new evening textiles the maker? cC modes are showing a preference f-r gauzes, tulles and nets embmldered wt tinsel. A very novel applique trlmmlrg shown upon a white tulle gowri was a slim wreath of green and red silk ttfca softest, most chiffon kind), which Imitated the scarlet trumpet vine. Every fijswer. every leaf was pinched nnd patted Inti a close semblance of nature, and ar-34 each one was an outlining In gilt Unse! Many of the "Winter embroideries It Is mid. will be outlined in this very decora tive way with a contrasting thread. Tho treatment la very decorative. MARY DEAN. "THEIR ARTICLES OF FAITH" & BY ELLIOTT WALKER OLD Miss Van Arnum peered cau tiously from behind the heavy cur tains of her north window, a fa vorite nook for observation of the goings and comings of Edith Carmayne. Dally, for nearly five years, had the wealthy, wnite-halred spinster kept a keen eye on the movements of her pretty young neighbor, ever since that bright Summer afternoon when she had seen her nephew, the spoiled darling of an old ladys' heart, stumblo unseeingly down the Carmayne steps to disappear around the corner of Pinckncy Square, his buoy ant figure bent as with sudden age, his head dejectedly drooped, his cane trail ing listlessly on the pavement. She never had seen him since; neither had any one, so far as her knowledge extended: yet she knew him to be alive. Tes, that; and also she was assured of his health and steady occupation. So much of the affairs of the absent one had her reticent, hard-headed brother told her of his vanished son. Tho rest Honora might guess. "Daniel will come back when he gets ready. He is minding his own business and desires to have others do the same," she had been told. Lloyd Van Arnum was a man of scaled lips. His sister knew Interrogation to be useless. Tho old wldowered banker had grinned rather triumphantly. Evidently, ho was neither alarmed nor displeased. Of course, Honora could guess. She had been willing to give her boy up to Edith. Everj one was sure it would be a match. The girl- had flouted him after all her encouragement; had sent him away heart broken to live down his disappointment; had deprived his adoring aunt of her one Interest and sho would never for give It. Therefore, Honora Van Arnum watched vigilantly and hated remorselessly the fair young creature opposite. Still a power In society, the old woman might thwart both lovo and ambition, did opportunity occur. "Was there another suitor? Edith's admirers were legion, but no one seemed especially in favor. "With wealth, beauty and position, popular and everywhere in evidence, the .girl remained unchanged gradually wearying of tho social round, turning to books and music, until now, after the flying years of early womanhood, she went less and less fre quently among the gayer set. seeming to long for quiet, fewer friends, and rest. Honora began to despair. The looked for lover upon whose aspirations, wel comed by the object of her spite, sho fondly hoped might come to grief through some discovery of his past, inspired by her revenge, did not materialize. This had been her dream, pleasant at first to her affronted soul, now an irritation, as in one who, waking from a Joyful trance of sleep, tries again to pick up the thread of slumber and finds it use less. Few men. she argued, who have seen much of life havo not a past. Edith with 20 when Daniel disappeared. As timo went on, older men came to her. '"The older the worse," thought Miss Van Arnum, "and tho better for me. The Carmaynes are rigid." The, '-fact that her well-beloved nephew had. not been noted for stalking alwta In a "rigid" path may or may not have entered into Miss Honora's calculations. "Pooh!" she would say. "Only a boy fresh from college. They're all alike." In him she had seen no flaw; her tall, slendor, graceful "Dandy," so gay and spirited, the leader of his set. To have him blown away, as by an invisible wind. Into Heaven alone knew what dangers and temptations, was outrageous, wicked. That girl should par for it with equal suffering if only chance would throw weapons Into the hands of Honora Van Arnum. Edith must marry some time. It would be like her with tnose aesthetic potions o tajicy 'a romaptip jcamp. Honora was an adept at tracing careers. She would be busy for a while and then? A groat deal may go . on across the street, hidden from all eyes save two, and sometimes, four. Every Sunday morn ing, when in town, Edith sat at her writ ing desk, not to write, but to read a fast yellowing sheet, crumpled now by many foldings, blotted by many tears. The words .sprawled over the page, trembling here and there as if written In great agitation: "I, Daniel Foss Van Arnum. do hereby solemnly swoar. in return for the prom ise of Edith L. Carmayne to be my wedded wife, to present myself in five years from today, a man without fear and without reproach, to have and to hold until death do us part. And there are our articles of faith and our condi tions." "Poor, boyiBh, Ill-considered vow. Five years! Poor, loving, exacting, ap prehensive girl, fearful to trust her life In the keeping of one who had come to her for his answer, and had tripped a little on the threshold, a very little; but he had tripped with an ex clamation of embarrassment and anger at his stumble. It was useless to deny. He did not. They had cried to gether and talked. He had written this thing, pathetic in Its 111 composi tion, terribly binding in its moaning. Then both had signed It and kissed the other's name. Five years, and to morrow was tho day of fulfillment. Not a message had been exchanged in all this time. Lloyd Van Arnum knew of the pledge. Never had he spoken of It to Edith until yesterday, over the telephone. n "He will see you tomorrow. Under stand?" "Yes," tho girl hnd answered, dully, then crept away, shivering in the warmth of the sun streaming through tho room. "We were nothing but children," she sobbed, .breaking down utterly In her chamber. "Oh, I was afraid, but I couldn't give him up. It was to be a test, a noble test of his strength and and of mine. Ho has kept the faith, while I I after all he must have struggled against, leaving me to en Joy everything, I Oh! God help me! "I've struggled, too," she went on half fiercely. "A year ago It would have been different. I held him close to my heart. I read our promise. I thought of him. Imagined him, prayed for him, loved him, I supposed, and now "Oh! Dan," she mourned. "I must go back to you. I will! ril force my self to bo the same. You, so splendidly true, shall not find mo false, ril bo a good wife. Yes, a happy one. There can be no other way for us. I am proud of ,you. and my word shall be kept to the end." For something else had been going on across the street, a very simple, easy, natural, unsuspected matter, un til an accidental touch and a quick, mutual glance had spun two souls to ward heaven In a second's flash of un derstanding. The man had gone at once, quietly as T?as his way. with a low good-night. Edith Carmayno was not for him, "Wes ley Garrett, a poor musician, hired to bring his violin one evening- each week that Miss Carmayne might practice accompaniments. . It was very unfortunate that his band should have rested on her as they were hunting among the music for something new; very foolish of him to havo let her seo his eyes devouring hungrily tho sweet faco so near his own. v She had lookod up suddenly, and caught a secret that was to have been hidden forever; divined -it before he could turn his head. Tho blood had leaped ia .ber ciissXs. ihs t?rx ia tar eyes, while he, poor fool, had stood dazed for a thrilling moment, trying to regain the senses so lamentably confused. Ah! Miss Carmayne had known and pitied that was all. Never again would she have opportunity to notice In his demeanor nnr t rr f sion which slumbered In his lonciy neari. a iove grown liko a quick-budding flower In a few short months, a few short meetings. Now he must gash It to the very roots and let it bleed itself away a deserving death. Hl would go there as usual, self-contained and silent, play, and be gone. Garrett smiled bitterly, striding on. Good antecedents, an empty pocket and a fiddle. 12 years of study, a soloist for three years more, perhaps; then a doubt ful fame, a little Income, an uncertain career. Think of that, man and not of Edith Carmayne. he said to him self. And she of whom he was thinking kneeled by the music-rack, in a strange de.-pair tinged with a wild happiness. Seven times since he had come and gone, saying little, hardly looking at her, playing delightfully, but himself, not to her. Miss Van Arnum heard, but lid not suspect. .J'A !dd,r ai?d "N'ealey Garrett at that. Pooh! Nothing attractive about him. Takes after his mother, a very plain woman. Dead now; I recollect "Wesley as a boy. Crazy over fiddles, then." Honora's nature was not artis tic. Nothing Is more binding between sym pathetic souls than silence. Words do not express the emanation of spirit. Love welds by the unspoken. With the two who could not speak, the Invlslblo bands drew closer. Each, understanding, would not admit, nor swerve from tho marked path. Then came Lloyd Van Arnum's message. That cvonlng camo Wesley Garrett The hour was over and he stood fingering his violin. "I'm afraid this must be our last; I mean that I'll be unable to .give my time regularly after this," said Edith, hesitatingly. "11 shall miss my music, but It will have to be neglected. If I need you want you to to play, I mean, I'll send word, and " Sho swallowed, looking down at tho keys, fast becoming a blur of black and white. "T am to come, then, when you re quest It?" Garrett's tone was oven. "Yes. I'm sorry, very sorry- I Oh. do play some little thing, Mr. Gar rett," cried the girl, desperately. "Any thing! Perhaps I can talk nbout ar ranging for you to practice with me after a moment. I can't give It up entirely." The violinist lifted his instrument and struck a chord. He smiled gently as Edith's face-turned to him. Then his eyes closed. Tho pathetic notes of- the violin sobbed out his short farewell, a song of the street, the simple chorus of a popular air, "Good-bye. Little Girl, Good-bye." He was gone when Miss Carmayno lifted her head. She lowered It again with a moan like a hurt child. When Daniel Van Arnum was an nounced, Edith went slowly to meet him. "Well, hero I am!" exclaimed' a gruff, hearty voice. "Time's up today. Just seen father. He's tickled to death with me. Edith, my dear girl, I declare you'vo hardly changed at all." With her listless hands In his strong grjp, the love of his earlier days stared at bim with parted Hps and paling cheeks. CouJJ J&i Jy JEfcm ,ArjiuaJ "Danday Dan."' the man she was to marry? Surely It must be. but Edith never would have recognized him. The returned lover had greatly ex panded In frame, especially about the waist. He stood heavily, his legs wide apart. His face was of a bronzed ruddi ness. A deep, red scar stretched across his forehead, once so white and blUe velned. A stubby moustache bristled be neath his nose. On one cheek was a white patch as from a scald. And his clothes were not such as "Dandy" had over worn. Worst of all. where did he get such a voice? The girl laughed faintly, almost hysterically with consternation. "Lt's sit down," she quavered, feeling her knees tremble. Van Arnum beamed upon her in jovial admiration, and plantea himself in a solid chair. "I weigh 210." he observed, placidly. "Not fat. but real hard meat. I tell you it pays to be good if a chap doesn't get killed In the act. I'm as hearty as -a buck, Edith. Ten months ago, my dear, you wouldn't have known me, though. "What happened. Dan?" asked Edith, apathetically. To her it made little dif ference what had occured. or what ever might happen now. She felt stony, and weary of all things, present and to come. Van Arnum settled himself comfort ably and spoke with briskness. "You'll want to hear all about me. of course." he began. "First, I'll say that I came right to you from the station, after dropping in for a few minutes' talk TtHfVl fflfVltf T flAfirrl ffl In. . a ...... u Jul iu uur uuuiu age In that quarter hour." He chuckled. J "So I didn't drew up; fact Is. this Is my best suit. I don't know how I'll get along In fine togs again, but I suppose I'll have to wear 'em. I guessed you'd be waiting for the man, not his clothes, eh?" Edith nodded, trying to smile. "Well, my dear, when I left you gra cious! I can hardly remember It. Lot's see. Oh. yes! Ono too many cocktails to brace mo up for the momentous ques tion. You wouldn't stand for It. Yes; it comes to me. I got a 'brace' from you that made me what I am today. "All the way to father's office I kept saying over and over. 'Five years, five years. I'll stick. I'll show her.' I've kept my word, Edlth and you seo me the man you wanted. "Father said when I told him. Try railroading, boy. Start at tho bottom and work up. Til get a job for you.' and he grabbed his hat and me, and down we went to the superintendent's. "First I knew, I was a brakeman yell ing out stations on a way train, then 1 moved up, peg by peg fireman on a local; this was west of Buffalo. Next I fired on a fast express, and, to cut It short. I've (been an engineer for over two years, a mlle-a-mlnute man who knows his busi ness. "Do I know tho business? Do I? It was a passion with me. I studied every thing, from oil cans to men, from bolts to boilers. Nover mind tho rough life, tho. discomforts, the associations. Never mind the things I'va seen, the llfo I've led. It's been straight. And what did I get for It? You, and the vice-presidency of tho K. P. & C at S0CO a year. Father told me so not an hour ago: There!" He leaned back, exultant, his features aglow, a strong man. his countenance suddenly stern and triumphant, his rough hand slapping his stout leg. "I'm glad for you, Dan." "A-ah!" Tho keen eyes melted. "Edith," he said, "therb's something I suppose I ought to tell you. This scratch" ho touched his brow "a broken rail, old S3 In the ditch, 20 people hurt, and when they picked me up I wasn't pretty! No one killed but the engineer. You know how it goes. "Luckily. I was slowing down. We were jgdog ?tr4Up -a.2saJJ tto- 2mf 4C& stopped there for water. Close call for me. Edith. I guess I looked dead enough. They took me up to the Braytons', along with some of the others. Nearest house, and nice, kind people. Little Rose Bray ton pulled me through. Yes, sir, that chikl insisted that I was alive actually forced the doctors to examine me again. "After that she owned me. I was her patient, her engineer. With her own soft fingers she did all the bandaging, all the feeding, and was so proud of herself and me. "One afternoon her arm was under my hend. lifting It. and I opened my eyes and looked Into her big gray ones, and I oh. Lord! poor little Rose, and poor me! I was so weak that was it but every nerve m my body .thrilled up to the look in her eyes. It was like a shock, a pain and a joy. I wan so feeble, so grate ful: It was so unexpected, you know." The dainty society woman drew nearer to him. "I know." she said, softly. "Of course, I had to tell her, Edith, about you and me, I mean, and she knelt by the bed, saying: 'I am glad for you, Dan.' Just your words a minute ago. It took me back. I felt I must tell you." He was gazing at the colling, a strange light in his scarred face. Unconsciously he sighed and his Hps moved. "Dan!" "Eh? Oh, yes I was thinking." "Go back to her." "Whatr "We both will bo happier, and she Rose." "But you. Edith, after these years of waiting?" His voice was thick with emo tion. He b'ent forward. "Dan. dear Dan. I, too, have looked In a man's eyes, and I know I never can look sq In yours, dear friend, nor you In mine." "Where Is our written promise?" "In my pocket." "Will you tear it with me?" "Yes, Dan." Together they tore the paper In half, and crumpled it In their hands, bcth breathing quickly. Tho man arose slowly. "I'm going over to seo my aunt. Edith." he said In a, natural voice. "I'll call on you tct'sK. and thank you for seeing and understand ing." "Not tonight, please. Dan." "Oh!" He smiled In her joyous face, and went out. Edith ran to the telephone in the library. , "He will be at the conservatory' sho whispered. "Yes. I can catch him there A few anxious moments of suspense-, then a low spoken message. Her checks wero roses as she hung up the receiver "He will come." she murmured, "and when he goes ah! It will not bo like cur last good-by." Old Miss Van Arnum never Is weary of relating how her stalwart nephew pre ferred tho pretty Western girl to Edith, Carmayne. Pretty Bead Trimmings for Porch Work PORERUNNERS of Fall and Winter 1 fashions announce that Paris and its mode-makers have decreed the reign of the spangle and bead. Lace and net patterns shown by Importers are lavishly decked with bead work, and the most striking ot evening fabrics are net mesh heavily encrusted with mother ot pearl or opalescent spangles or, sequins. And the prices! They make the provi dent woman shiver, while the Summer girl who has leisure cither In town or out. betakes herself to making bead ap pliques. Vests, chemisettes, stocks, cuffs, half sleeves, girdles, yokes, panels and berthas, all are agleam with beads and all come under tho possibilities of Summer porch work. For wear. with a quaint full frock of black crepe de chine. one girl Is making a fichu of black net. finished with a stiff godet flounce, whose scalloped edges are. set oft by triple rows of Uny jet beads, while in each scallop is set a star of beads. Another deft-fingered girl is designing a yoke, halt sleeves and glrdlo of white net embroidered with mother-of-pearl se quins, for wear with a house gown ot white messallne. A silk net was chosen for the foundation with rather a fine mesh, and this is set off by crescents done in solid sequins. The collar and cuffs aro finished at the edge with rows ot the sequins overlapping each other like work seen on armor. Lace patterns aro out lined In beads and spangles for the same uses. For wear with a black cloth, velvet or crepe do chine gown, the jet bead dog collar is coming in. For this, the foundation is either black silk or velvet cut to fit the neck perfectly. Running around the collar are closely set rows of tiny round jet beads strung on linen thread, waxed. At intervals, rows of Jet. nail-heads, three-eighths of an Inch In diameter aro set in imitation of tho rhlnestones seen In connection with near-pearl dog collars. These give the effect of a bar running up and down. If the collar Is to be worn with a low necked gown. It may be finished round the lower edge with a bead fringe made from the flno beads, with the strands graduated, very long In the front and shorter toward the back. This style Is particularly becoming to full, plump faces. Or the fringe may be studded at Intervals with larger beads, and each strand finished with a large bead, at least a quarter ot an Inch In diameter. , ar ?:innlmr See 1L? rj aiiJ,ma' Ing over her evening coat arc the, bands of heavy white satin embroidered In tiny gold beads. The simplest pattern Is the old-fashioned key or wall of Troy design, but the girl who Isxleft with transfer pa per can stamp the satin band with a vine or spreading floral pattern, using a sharp ly pointed pencil. A striking girdle to be worn with a gray broadcloth suit shows velvet of the same shade, embroidered In cut steel beads. Hore the pattern is very ornate, and al most covers the velvet, but an equally striking effect could be secured if only the back and front of the girdle were or namented with rosettes or buckles. Another combination which pleases the woman who wears much black and white in combination Is the Jet buckle on a gir dle or white silk, cloth or velvet. In plan ning this girdle, bear In mind that Dame Fashion promises a return to the nar row girdle effect In the front at least. Tho long-walsted girl may retain the high cut in the back, but pointed effects are prom ised once more in the front. The new Jet set offered in shops show a two or three-inch buckle for the front They cost anywhere from $5 to $25 a set. To Imitate them In home work, cut tho foundation In pliable pasteboard, and cov er first with thin cotton waddirg sewed on firmly. Next sew on your Mark f yzn datlon, firm taffeta silk being the beat ct all. Cover this solidly with the bead work, sewing them on crosswise, as thus It Is easier to keeD vour lines Before lining the buckle Insert feather-. none, tne exact length of the beaded strips, so that the buckle will bend to tho. figure and not break. Cover th!s with, silk, and your buckle Is ready for the sir- ale, to wnich It should bo sewed tight A buckle ten Inches deep should be coc more man two Inches wide, and the ef- iect is oettor If It Is even narrower. David's Perplexity. "I wondr why," said David Browa. "Apples nhould not bans up, but down; And why should leaves be green Instead Of being- purple, blue or red? "Why should boys only hare two feot. When four- would make them much mer neat; , And why should morning come Just wfcea We want to fro to sleep asaln?" Toolchest Compliments. "You're a bore." the hammer waii To tho gimlet, spruce and neat Said the Rtmlet with a bow "You. sir. are an awful beat " ame Women M'' r Every TToman covet i SmMMmmMm shaPeIpretty figure, and mMm m MMJVmM many of them deolorc tha loss of their girlish forms after marriage. The bearing of children is aittzi dectmctira to the mother's shapeliness. a n r ir ... .... nui UA ""8 can DC avowed, however, by the nse of Mother's Friend before baby comes, as this great liniment always prepares the body for the strain upon it, and preserves the symmetry of her form. Mother's Friend overcomes all the dinger of child-birth, and carries the expectant mother safely throuch this critical nrnnr? txit-Vmnt- T- r . . . . . r r wumaa s greatest Dl CSS 1X1 ST. Thousands gratefully tell of the benefit and relief derived from th use of this wonrlfirfnl remedy. Sold by all druggists at $ i. co per bottle. Our little book, telling- all about this liniment, will be sent free. Mother's Friend