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,
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r r wumaa s greatest Dl CSS 1X1 ST.
Thousands gratefully tell of the benefit and relief derived from th
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remedy. Sold by all
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Mother's
Friend