Tillamook headlight., February 11, 1892, Image 5

R. R. HAYS, Manager, Tillamook, Oregon
WHOM OTHERS ENVY.
My heart throbbed at the thought ot
holding her life ia my hands, but I was
determined to prove worthy in thought
and deed of the responsibility.
A FASHIONABLE YOUNG WOMAN’S
bi the mean time the police had been
DEPLORABLE LOT.
summoned and the place ransacked, but
no trace of the would-be murderer. 1
had had no time to speculate on that, At an English Wedding—A Rare Love Let-
being fully occupied in writing prescrip­
t<>r Some Rich Women—Female Educa­
tions to be filled and ascertaining the
tion—Girl« Who Fook Old—Mr«. Astor’«
exact amount of danger Miriam was in.
Patronuge—Woinanlitie«« Appreciated.
1 found that the ball had entered her
left side, just escaping the heart. When
It isn’t such an easy thing to be a bright
my instruments arrived 1 probed for the light in society* after all. There is an ever­
ball and soon extracted it, leaving her lasting chasing after fads of all sorts—linguis­
tic, musical, dramatic, historic, etc.
free from danger.
A fashionable young lady was deploring
For several weeks 1 tended her, and
her lot the other day* to one of her compan­
she gradually gained strength until at ions
in a swell Fifth avenue lyceum.
As I was hurrying hoinowaril from my f List she could sit on the piazza for an
“Why,” remarked this young woman, “we
offli-e one evening in October 1 was de­ hour each bright day. During all the have to know everything, only we don’t have
tained on a fashionable thoroughfare by Weeks the detectives bad been at work, to know it all at once nor for very long at a
many carriages. A society wedding re­ but no clew could be found. No reason­ time. If we did we could not stand up under
the accumulation. We take our knowledge
able theory could be formed.
ception was taking place.
1 questioned ber if she knew of any in periods For instance, I have been out
1 watched a few ladies pass out of i
four
years, and during that time I have
their carriages to tho awning, and thence i one who would have any motive for such learned to play the banjo, mandolin and
a
deed.
She
only
shuddered,
and
it
into the residence, it was rather inter­
zither, as every one of these accomplish­
esting to a novice—the begloved men seemed to retard her recovery every ments had its brief run, all in addition to
'
time
it
was
spoken.
what I knew of harp, guitar and piauo at
were so thoroughly conversant with the
So finally it became accepted as a mys­ tuy debut.
minutim of attending to tho wants of
tery.
“To the French and Italian with masters
the fair ladies. From my position 1
I had called one afternoon and found before I finished, I have acquired a smatter­
could look into tho vast drawing rooms.
ing
of German, Volapuk and Russian suc­
There stood the “happy couple,” a her sitting in her boudoir. She held out cessively,” she went on. “I bowl, ride and
her
hand
and
said:
handsome pair. He tall and dark, but
fence equally poorly, but I do every one a
“I am glad you have come, doctor. I little—I had to, you know. What I do well
with eyes and mouth that spoke of a will
want
to
talk
lo
you.
”
is to swim and play tennis. One season I be­
it would tie dangerous to cross. She was
“I am always glad to be talked to,” 1 longed to a Shakespeare class, the next I had
also tall, with a winsome fuoe of unnsual
inanely
remarked,
wondering
what
was
mornings with Shelley, and for two Lents 1
brightness.
was a member of a Browning club.”
coming
It was a face that changed with every
She added:
“You overheard some wordsone night
breath. The blue eyes would grow black
“One has to know music, too, from ‘Die
with excitement. The merry looking that require an explanation,” she began, Walkure’ to ‘Pinafore,’ and to discuss art
little mouth disclosed most of the time a and her face was bright scarlet. “They with the confidence of the Quartier Latin. I
set o'f beautiful white teeth. A wealth were wicke 1 words, 1 am afraid, but I have been through several art sieges, the Mor­
llave thought them many times.
gan and Stew art collections, the Verestchagin
of brown hair ruffled and curled all over
“I met Mr. Gunter when 1 was 17, and display and the Barye exhibit, and for every
the well shape 1 head.
the fascination he had for me I mistook one I have faithfully crammed. Ceramics,
Yes, she v. ..s a very bonny bride, and
for love, so that when he asked me if 1 tapestries, heraldry—these are merely a hint
I did not wonder the young man looked
would marry him 1 said ’Yes.’ In a few of the subjectsone may tie called upon at any
at her with such an endearing gaze. No
months 1 saw my mistake, but knew not moment to discuss intelligently, and I really
one would dare monopolize her attention
will not go to a flower show now*, for orchids
how to communicate the fact. 1 threw are
a sealed book to me.
with him around.
out a few hints, and he immediately be­
“The different imported entertainments
1 finally moved on, considering I had
came of ashy whiteness, and said if he are another tax upon one’s know ledge,” she
sentimentalized long enough.
should lose me lie never would live an sighed wearily. “Just when you know a kir-
Six months later my circumstances
hour, mid rather than see me another mess from a May dance you are asked to par­
were materially altered. I was in a po­
ticipate in a Venetian fashiug, and when you
man’s wife lie would shoot me.
sition to enter society if I so wished, and
“1 was very young and believed him. have read up to go to see a Greek play some­
at the urgent request of my uncle I did
In fact. I believe still he spoke the truth. body lectures on Budhbist ceremonials for a
so. It being known that I was heir to
1 had no courage to face these facts, so fashionable charity, and you have to show
considerable wealth, I had no trouble iu gave myself up to the inevitable. I soon there. It is really ver}* fatiguing sometimes
to keep up with the procession.”—New York
securing plenty of partners.
learned, even before marriage, that he
One evening at u large ball given by liad a violent temper. No one ever Journal.
Mrs. Fred DeTancy, I was introduced to
A Rare Love Fetter.
creased him.
Mrs. Clarence Gunter, in whom 1 imme­
In the “Life of Harriet Beecher Stowe,’’
“1 have been humiliated time and
diately recognized the bride of a few time again by that cursed temper, God by her son, is given a love letter of Professor
months before.
knows. I am naturally of a happy nat- Calvin E. Stowe to his wife, written before
The face was the same, yet changed. ure, un I tried to make tile best of it.
“Uncle Toni’s Cabin” was given to the world.
It is interesting, therefore, as being prophetic
The eyes seemed larger than ever. This
“1 thought marriage would soften of her power and fame; but still more so as a
was probably owing to some ilark lines him, but no, it hardened him, and I had
picture of womanly charactor which should
under them
no love to help me bear it. I knew ho be framed and placed conspicuously in every
When the flush of excitement would loved me with a wild, selfish love, but it household, as the Vicar of Wakefield kept his
go the face looked rather pale. It was was not the kind to make me happy, epitaph or’ his wife in her sight to remind her
an interesting face, and looked as though You will won ler why I tell you all of of what she ought to lie.
it held a story.’
This love letter would lx? valuable in teach
this; no, don't interrupt—I cannot help
Her husband stood near her, jealously knowing your feeling toward me, and 1 ing the wife to cultivate every noble, and to
repress every ignoble, trait; the husband to
guarding her. At least it looked that think it best that wo should part.
recognize and appreciate all her true excel­
way. ¡asked her fora dunce, but she
“One thing more,” ns 1 tried to inter­ lence; and the young persons of the family
glanced nervously at her card and said: nipt. “1 have my suspicions about that
“You must excuse me this evening. horrible night. Don’t, for God’s sake, to seek not only the unfolding of special gifts
and graces, but that balance and harmeuy
Dr. Warren, but the little I dance will ask me any questions. Now will you be which wins and preserves real affection.
be with Mr. Gunter.”
“My dear, you must lx? a literary woman.
merciful and go?”
“At least 1 may sit out a few.” I mur­
It is so written in the book of fate. Make all
I was shivering.
mured.
The mere thought of going away, never, your calculations accordingly. Get a good
of health and brush up your mind.
“Oh, certainly,” with a bright smile.
perhaps, to see her ugain, was utmost stock
Well, that was the beginning of the beyond my power. But 1 saw to cross Drop the E out of your name. It ouly en­
end. I forgot that she was married, for­ her would be detrimental to her health. cumbers it and interferes with the flow and
euphony.
got everything except that I was sitting. , So I said, “Yes, I will go.”
“Write yourself fully and always Harriet
by the side of the sweetest woman 1 had
“Thank you, Bentley.” sho said, using Beecher Stowe, which is a name euphonious,
ever met. Her busband had left us with my Christian name for tlie first time. flowing and full of meaning. Then, my word
a scowl.
“You see you could not stay here after for it, your husband will lift up his head iu
1 wondered if she was in the habit of knowing my story. It would not be the gate, and your children will rise up and
using those blue eyes to such deadly right.”
call you blessed.
“And now, my dear wife, I want you to
effect on al) the gentlemen she met. If
“I shall try to see you again. Good-
so, how many slain there must have by, good-by, Miriam, God bles« you, come home as quick as you can. The fact is
I cannot live without you, and if we were not
been.
child!” and rushed from the room.
so prodigious poor I would come for you at
That evening 1 never forgot. Many
A week later I sailed for France. For once. There is no woman like you in this
more happy ones were passed by her months 1 traveled through Europe, wide world. Who else has so much talent
•ide, but they never seemed the same.
then I went into the Holy Land and with so little self conceit; so much reputation
AU that season I met Mrs. Gunter. 1 thence through to Japan. For nearly with so little affectation; so much literature
called frequently at her house, became two years I thus wandered about.
with so little nonsense; so much enterprise
friends with her husband, whom 1 soon
One day while at Cairo I received my with so little extravagance; so much tongue
got to like exceedingly. He was very- European mail, which had chased me with so little scold; so much sweetness with
fond of his wife, although he had a pe­ for some time. 1 noticed a letter with so little softness; so much of so many things
and so little of so many other things? ’—
culiar way of showing it.
a strange handwriting and immediately Youth’s Companion.
She was never sure of her position. At opened it. It ran thus:
a dinner party he would sharply repri­
Paia Waiuuw—When you receive Ibis I «hall
An EngBHli Wedding.
mand her until at times I felt like chok­ tie among the “gone lx-tore. ’ 1 am tired of life.
We got there in good time to see the gunta
But first I must ease my conscience, as all sinner»
ing him.
on their dying irel are wont to do W hen you arrive. The Duches» of Leinrtcr, in brown
She never showed by a sign that she « ere first introduced to us I noticed that you lost and gray, came with her sister, Lady Helen j
noticed it. A laugh would turn the con­ your heart to Miriam, and I was w ildly jealous. I Duncombe, in a dark bine handkerchief drew«, Í
versation. but I knew it cut like a knife. but 1 finally got to liking and also trusting you.
with dark jacket and furs. The Duchess of
The night ot tho dinner farty I worked myself
I met her once alone, after such a time
Into a passion after you left the table, and lea* Manchester, in gray, wore a long velvet fur ¡
in the hall. She did not see me at first. ing the room on tho pretense of speaking to my trim mol coat, which almost bid her drres.
Her face was ashy white, ami her blue man I crept around to the draw ing room window Mrs. Ronalds’ coat was almost exactly like
the duchess'. Lady Dorothy Nevill. all alone,
eyes were dilated and looked like coals and saw you two close together
A passionate glance passed from your eyes, and wore garments in which ilark Indian reds
of fire. No one would ever have dream­ I imagined
that she returned IL The demon was and a hint of orange were artistically blended,
ed of calling them blue; her hands were aroused la me. end I lifted my resolver and ttred the whole being surmounted by a small gold
clasped convulsively, and in a hoarse at
, you.
bonnet. The dowager Countess of Airlie
My bond was unsteady and it |w«sed you as
whisper I heard:
you know. I hurried ill, and my horror ww ter made a magnificent contrast to these brilliant
“I bate him! 1 hate him! Oh. God! rible
•
when I saw Miriam. I gate her into your apjeritions, in her perfectly black gown and
take him or me!”
, charge, Ix-causo 1 knew if any ono could bring mantle and close widow’s bonnet, with a long
veil. Her stately figure is only les. imposing
1 stepped quickly forward, and in my her
i through you could
The remotre has l«n gradually wearing me than the beauty of her face.
excitement unwittingly used her first away
You will hear I died • t heart disease
The Prince of Wales wore a most delicious
name.
Don't contradict it, and let Miriam think the sama overcoat, i never saw him look so nice. It
"Don’t. Miriam, don’t! You know not
Take care of her. an-1 forgive me if you can I was cloth, either black or very dark blue,
Bkeil you. Warren, and I leave Miriam to your
what you are saying.”
Cmmasca B G imtwi [ lined and faced with the darkest sable. I be­
“I wish 1 didn’t,” shesuUenly replied i enre
lieve the prince must have known how be­
Oct. 8, ’The Vetner.”
•nd pushing by me hurried into the
1 could not believe the letter at first, coming It was, for he never took it off. The
bride’s mother, whose youth and lieauly Lavs
drawing room, ami there I found l>< r
ft seemed as if it must be a fabrication quite overshadowed those of her daughters,
brightly discussing the merits of some of
of my brain; but no. there was the let- looked charming in a handsome gown of
Whistler's etchings.
j ter to prove the truth of it. Gunter mignonette velvet and rich juuwementerie in
1 sat by her side and endeavored to
1 had tried to kill me. and now had com- jet and gold. The sleeve* were very high and
converse rationally, but my heart's cry
much puffed upon the shoulders, the paa»
l uiitted suicide.
Would not be stifled.
It was nearly a vear later that I ar- menterio running up the back of the arm
“Oh, Miriam, Miriam, why did 1 not
, rived home. I called on Mrs. Gunter at Her daughter. Lady William Nevill, wbow
meet yrou fii-str
thoughts mu-t have reverted to her own wwl
She canght tbe passionate look in my 1 once, and she looked very pale and sweet ding in the same edifice, looked even hand
in
her
monming
garments
•omer than .he did as a bride. In her ver^Jje-
eyes, and involuntarily shuddered. 1
R. fore I left she had jiromised to leave cuming poplar green dross, with a small bon­
collected myself and arose, saying 1
I
them
off
for
.
wedding
gown
a
year
net of the same tint, trimmed with pmk
would take a turn in the gardens.
As I did so there was a report and a from that day. 1 never Uild her the wings All the relatives of both bride and
brldegr-oin carried bouquet*. The brklee
.truth
uliont
her
ha«baud
’
«death.
She
bright flash, and there lay Miriam, white
was a Is-autiful “Oxsiyear" arrangement in
i ha<l no suspicion about tliat, tb°ngh.
as death.
I always thought she knew who fired the choicest white orchids. She looked taller
I rushed to her. and although nearly
than ever in her bridal white.-Madge m
wild with excitement managed to use the shot that nearly deprived her of life. London Truth. _ _______
However,
that
is
u
subject
we
never
my medical knowledge to advantage,
What They Ara Worth.
diseñas in our happy married life.—T. U
and she soon opened ber eves.
Mme. Modjeska could rai« Vi.OOO to-
By this time the gentlemen who had W. in Burlington Globe.
1 morrow if anything
b*.
remaini-d in the dining room ruahed into
Mary Livermore has I ■ i,«*> of the »1 J0,<*W
Eastern Trees in California.
the room, and upon seeing Mr*. Gunter
made from her lectures, and hapless Anus
California
is
nearly
destitute
of
the
lying senseless the wildest excitement
trees and shrubs which furnish the bril­ Dickinson, who ekwred I- ’»/) in one ssasou
reigned.
liant autumnal tints of eastern hills and aud lldu.uuo in ten, ba.n t a dollar of|1***
Her husband could not be calmed, and
But she is wiser than shs was. Mre Harriet
▼ales.
A few Tentureaome spirits, how­
insisted that he should shoot himself if
Prrocutt «puff rd pub.i-uxl b-n I
ever.
have
introduced
from
the
east
the
last forty year., tbe proore-is o< wU‘cb
anything happened to Miriam.
sumash.
dojrwo«xl.
swamp
maple,
sassa
­
^ou..u.l tu »bait M.W ««* Ouida has
We calmed him finally by frequent
‘
' ..
aenurancee that she would recover. I fras, red and white oak, etc. They are -ruul m re n J J
hxl h«-r earned to her room, and asked all growing sati factonly in van tm ¡» r
Th rough years of patient toil and sacriflce
H® climbed fame's ladder round by round,
Nor rested Uli his hand had grasped th® prize
For which lie toiled Self made, self crowed
n® Btood among bis lofty dreams and weighed
Their worth, together with the |>rice he paid.
▲ millionaire! He bartered love for this.
Love bind« the w ings of him who would arisa
He rose unfettered Now with famished eyes
Ho gazes on another's Paradise,
While memory taunts him with a shy, sweet kisa
A frightened, fluttering tiling, the first, the last.
Ko childish voices echo through bls past;
He wears I ls Luiréis, but he paid their price.
-Rose Hartwick Thorpe in Lippincott's.
MIRIAM GUNTER.
r
WOMAN ANO HOME.
years ago as a steerage passenger and who
pulled basting stitches for two years, has
more money in her own right than any of the
Vanderbilt women, every penny of which
she made with her needle. She owns about
ten cottages at Long Branch, facetiously
known as the party dresses, one of which is
fit for a king and brings in a kingly rent
every summer. The most succsssful money
maker among modern women is Lydia Van
Finkelstein, a native of Palestine, a woman
of about twenty-eight, and something of a
linguistic wonder. She lectures, or talks,
rather, on the Holy Land, and knows the
whole geography of Asia Minor. In a little
jss than six years this large blonde biblical
talker has cleared $100,800. She gets $100 a
lecture, with a percentage of the receipts,
and talks from October to May, often giving
three lectures in a day.—Chicago Herald.
A Shopping Incident.
The Astors almost never shop, but Mrs.
Astor has made the reputation of one inter­
esting little milliner. A well educated young
woman had tilted herself at the cost of con­
siderable sacrifice on her own part and her
mother’s for teaching. She obtained a posi­
tion, but proved too shy and sensitive to con­
trol the half grown boys. She was a poor
“disciplinarian,” and stung by a sense of fail­
ure wandered up and down the streets won­
dering what she could do. Down hearted,
giddy and almost fainting, she stumbled
against a milliner's sidewalk show case and
stared blankly at the Paris bonnets inside.
Then she went to the bank, drew out her
small savings, and induced a cousin who kept
a little stationer's shop in a moderately good
location to allow her window room for a half
dozen hats of her own concoction. It sounds
like a fairy story, but in three years she had
sold barely enough to keep body and soul to­
gether, when a carriage drove up one morn­
ing and a lady bought a black bonnet that
was as chic as it was unassuming. The? lady
had business, it seemed, with a decorator who
lived next door, and something about the
small stock of headgear had caught her eye
in passing.
The lady was Mrs. Astor, and the sale was
to the milliner the beginning of better for­
tunes. It was the one chance that comes to
some people, not to everybody, in a life time.
Mrs. Astor mentioned her discovery quietly
to a few people, and the milliner has a tiny
parlor no*-? on the avenue, and is going to
Paris for the second time for her stock in
trade.—Cor. St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
True Womanliness.
I was much struck by a little incident that
occurred last year. 1, among others, belong­
ing to a large party who were waiting at a
railway station for the train that was to
carry us down to a garden party at one of
the many lovely places on the Thames, saw
an old man, a decrepit creature, bowed and
palsied, making his way to where the third
class compartment would lx?. His arms were
full of bundles of various sizes. Coining near
a truck, the ol<l man, who was half blind,
marched against the edge of it, and all his lit­
tle bundles fell helplessly to the ground.
Most of the young |x?ople belonging to our
party broke into an irresistible laugh.
They were not so much to be blamed.
You will see amusement in even trifles, but
there was one among us who did not laugh.
The old man’s chagrin seemed to touch her.
She went quickly forward, and as he groped
nervously for bis parcels she 1 if ted them one
by one and laid them in his arms. She wits
not a strictly pretty girl, but there was dig­
nity and sweetness both in her face and iu
her action. I noticed that a young man, one
of our party, watched her intently. He wai
rich, titled, one of the matches of the Lon­
don season. Supreme admiration showed it­
self in his face. He demanded an introduc­
tion. I gave it. in six months they were
man and wife. She made a good match, and
so did he in every sense of the word.—Duchess
in Ladies’ Home Journal.
Why Do Girls Fook So Old?
I live in a city that is comparatively sT.mll,
an«l my circle of acquaintances is quite ex­
tensive. Among them all 1 notice that with
few exceptions the mothers are better look­
ing and in many cases but little older in ap­
pearance than the daughters. I know this is
true in my own case. I cannot flatter myself
that I am near as good looking as my mother.
Nine persons out of ten who do not know us
take us for sisters, and the tenth usually takes
us for stepmother and stepdaughter. As 1
remarked before, a large number of my |«er
zonal friends have the same experience.
Since I have t>een in Washington I have
noticed that the same rule will apply, and
with equal force. I often wonder whether it
is that the mother looks younger than her
age, or the daughter older, and I have come
to the conclusion that it is l»oth. But why is
it? Is it because the girls keep later hours
and dissipate more than they did a few years
ago, or that the mothers tak«? better care of
themselves? It cannot I m ? I mjchumj the mothers
work less than they used to, because many
work just as much, and I have a very good
example of the case in our colored washer­
woman, who, attired in an old dress and hat,
as she always is, looks as young as her grown
up daughter, who, when she condescends to
bring the clothe« home, wears a nice dress,
stylish hat arid kid gloves, even if it is U
o'clock in the morning.—Cur. Washington
Post.
The Education of WonMMF
Bo prevalent among women la the amiable
wiah to pleaae the lord» of creation, that It
may reaaonably be doubted whether they
ever do anything amiaa the motive for which
cannot l*> traced to this desire. Though Eve
ate the forbidden fruit, it ia nowhere denied
that Adam bad twitted her about the com­
parative uulmportauce of her attainments,
and had bred in her a restless apjietite for
miacellaneous learning which made her the
serpent’s easy prey. 1» It not so with mir fe­
male education! If there is anything wrong
with it are not the men to blame! If it is
true, aa Mr. Allen aaya, that the present sys­
tem produces literary women, seboobnie
tresses and lecturer, on cookery, it wdl prob­
ably be found, on investigation, that it is
pr.xiaely those •|>e'-’»w of edueated f-male
that the unmarried male next affects. No
doubt female education is all wrong, if Mr.
Alien say« it is, but It be b bi set it right let
him consider whether the best way to go
about it « not b’ try an 1 teach a wiser dis­
crimination to malea -Scribner.
i
Ings run out iu two large tubes of equal
| width, like the fingers of a glove. This^tronge
hhape is made to suit the sandals, which are
I furnished with a strap fastened about the
! middle of the sandal, and as tbe strap had to
| be laid over t|ie stocking the division is
needed.—New York Ledger.
Dre«««*« in Montevideo.
While speaking of the Montevideo ladies,
the author mentions for the benefit of his
American lady readers that short dresses are
worn iu the streets—granting a liberal dis­
play of very small and high heeled French
boots—with hats and without cloaks, and
that the fashion seems to run altogether to
the bustle, accompanied with great puffs cal­
culated to make a Japanese girl die in envy.
“I have frequently seen these posterior ap­
pendages projecting quite two feet from the
body, and have wondered they were not util-
ized as bundle or wrap carriers. Every coun­
try, however, has its own standard of taste
and fashion. In Valjuiraiso and Santiago it
is the spray of feathers and topknot of artifi­
cial vegetation which marks the best society;
in Montevideo it is the bustle, which, by its
greater or lesser superficial area, distin­
guishes the patrician from the plebeian. The
graceful lace mantilla, with the dignified
black embroidered crape or silk shawl, is all
unknown, the most extravagant French fash­
ions having taken its place.”—Frank Vincent.
Tests for Underwear.
A new method of testing woolen garments
is by putting caustic soda into a cup of water
and dipping the article whose genuineness is
doubted into the mixture, of course being
careful not to touch the liquid. The caustic
soda will quickly eat animal fibers, but has
no effect upon those of vegetable origin. If
the article is all wool it will be dissolved in
the liquid, leaving nothing but a track of
coloring matter. If the material is cotton, it
comes out unscathed. When »he material is
wool supported by a framework of cotton,
the latter being indistinguishable to the eye
or by ordinary tests, the caustic soda quickly
divorces the two, dissolves the wool and
leaves the cotton as clean as if it hatl been
woven by itself. It has been suggested that
people might buy a set of underwear made of
wool and cotton mixed, that when the sultry
days of spring arrive a bath of caustic so<la
might be prepared, the garments dipped
therein, to emerge in the form of cotton gos­
samer for the summer season.—Hall’s Journal
of Health.
Mrs. Hearst’« Fondness for Society.
Senator Hearst is not given to society. He
is, on the contrary, inclined to get away from
fine people and fine houses. But Mrs. Hearst
is fond of social life, fond of young people
and fond of keeping about her pretty young
women as her season’s guests. The senator
evidently enjoys having his wife «lo all these
things, ami he is proud of her, with very good
reason. She is a handsome woman, and
strikingly of the Spanish type. Mrs. Hearst
admits that she takes the tx?st of care of her­
self, and this she considers every woman’s
duty. Iler complexion is dark, but wonder­
fully soft and clear; her eyes are dark and
expressive, her hair is dark and shining and
worn as smooth as satin. She is slightly Inf­
low medium height, with a slender, graceful
figure. Her voice is low and her manner ex­
ceedingly quiet, gentle and easy. Senator
Hearst is in his seventieth year. His wife
looks scarcely half his age. Taking good care
of herself has taken a good many years off
her personal appearance.—Washington Let
ter.
Buckle« for Arinaineiit.
The chatelaine should always lie worn on
the side, not only because that is whefe the
lady of the olden t ime wore hei/, Hut also I m »-
causo it is never beautiful to pile dec«»rations
of that sort immediately in front. They will
most certainly increase the size of the stom­
ach, and tuke away from the grace of the
figure. Buckles ret with precious stunes are
in bad taste, except for full dress. A very
smart set of buckles to be worn with a black
tulle costume is formed of g«xxl sized dia­
monds, and consists of one long one that is
worn with the sash ribbon at the waist; two
small ones that g«> on the velvet slip|M*rs, anti
one very small one that clasps the velvet
band at the throat. The long, narrow, jx?r-
fectly plain silver buckle is fancied for the
gray or green gowns for the early spring,
but remember, unless your waist is small,
you should not lo«>k nt a buckle with an eye
of envy, for it will certainly make a large
waist look larg«»r.—N« w York Letter.
The Woman h M hii Marrie«.
A man like* a woman of independent and
strong character, but he is not attracted te
her unless she {» osmcswm some feminine weak­
nesses. He may admire her as a good com­
rade and even seek lier a l vice, but he is more
likely to love and marry the weak, clinging
vine; and after the honeymoon is over lie not
infrequently wastes his life secretly longing
for or openly seeking the cohipanionship of
the strong character he passed by. Here
again let the discreet woman take warning
and veil the full extent of her seif reliance
and strength from the sight of man till occa­
sion demands revealing it.
She must keep It to surprise him ever and
anon, instead of flaunting it forever In bis
eyes.—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
II h I>I« n ’ T«*« and Finger«.
“Claris«« Potter” advises mothers t«i pay
more attention to the Anger« and t*xs of
crawling babies. When tjaby cries examine
her tiny toe* and fliigcrs to make sure that
no splinter of w«xxl or iron has entered them.
“As baby grows older an«l boots take the
place of soft wool *x’k», care must lie given
that the fast growing little feet are not
cramped by too small boot*. Even dainty
kid can goadingly pinch an«l chafe the dainty
flesh, and if the Ixxjt i« too short, tmrbarously
double the flexible, hapless tore in under them­
selves, causing baby much wailing distress,
which we In our Ignorance try to relieve
with generous d<Mes of castor oil and catnip
tea.”
The Ml*»lon of Educated Women.
Generous recognition is at once given of
the beauty of tin* pmaible honv, and of tba
power and importance of the woman who
create« it; but that this in woman’• only field
in emphatically denied. There are now open
to her many channels through which »he can
influence the race, and the question is raised
Anvlei't KstP'1“ ateelil»«»-
as to whether the advantage in tids respect
Tbroe curio,i* Uoekinff are knit ted in a h ait/>getber on the side of tiie married wom­
very clever manner, mid the material, fine an.-Mrs M F. Armstrong in rupular Sci­
wool of *hre|. that might once have bean ence.
white, 1» nowlvown »ithage. Tbe needle«
with which the work waa done mu*t have
The l>erorBted lilRMr Table.
been a little lbi-k<-r t in wc abould i liurce
The over decorated dinner tablets now be­
for the mine por|*>*, and the knitting is ing criticised. The man or woman who
loose and ela»ti<-. The slocking is begun ju*l knows good cooking dues not fetl so sure of
as we max-, tbe design, --nly in tbe simplest getting it when wrvod with a lace trimmed
meaner with singi* throedl Putin tbecon- and satin lined tablecloth as when the cloth
tmuatioo of tbe work It is out simply plain, Is of fine linen, decorated simply with a few
but fanciful. The usual border <>f lbs stock­ flowers, and lighted with candies in «»id silver
ing. Which prevents the rolling up of the candelabra. —New York Cumawrciai Ad ver-
x-rk iaoarr"w <■- :,-.*ting a row tA turned
up be,pa; and tire '
n
114
ILL ’
T
J
Each Had Its Origin in a Do
mestic Difficulty.
ROMANTIC TKAUEHV AT OAKLAND
A Queer Case of l.uve mid Cross Purpoiei
That Ended In Homicide—A Cincinnati
Man Slay« Ills Sweetheart—Possibly
Justifiable I’arrlciile.
lx)ve, infatuation, folly, threats, death,
such in brief was the strange, eventful his­
tory of R. S. Colvin, of Oakland, Cal. That
he was shot and mortally wounded by John
G. Howell, that his infatuation for the lat­
ter’s daughter, Anne, was the beginning of
the trouble, an<l that one I’errie Maxwell
bore a rather doubtful part in t he affair are
the palpable facts, but everything goes to
show that there is a serious, curious story
inside of the main story and not yet known.
R. S. COLVIN
Colvin was a prosperous stenographer
and assistant on a weekly paper when he
met Miss Anne Howell in 1887 and fell
madly in love with her. Hu acted very
rashly in pressing his suit, and when re
pulsed talked so strangely that his friends
persuaded him to leave Oakland, and he
located in Los Angeles. There lie met
Perrie II. Maxwell Ho told Colvin that
lie had been a schoolmate and a lover of
Anne Howell in their early home; that he
had letters from her of an interesting
nature and could influence the family
about as he wished. More infatuated than
ever, Colvin returned to Oakland, and with
him Maxwell, who used Colvin's influence
to get a position as stenographer.
Colvin became editor and publisher of a
«mall weekly called Current Comment,
and in it published squibs on the Howells,
the name Isung thinly disguised, and hints
of a “sensational story” to come. Miss
Anne reproached Maxwell for allowing
Colvin to see her schoolgirl letters, and
Maxwell replied that Colvin had broken
open his desk and stolen them. Colvin
heard this ami became frantic, demanding
an interview with Miss Howell to set him­
self right. Her father came instead, and
with hint Maxwell, who had planned the
meeting. There was a quarrel and Howell
shot Colvin five times.
The complications are many It seems
most probable that Miss Howell’s letters
were given to Colvin by Maxwell’s wife- a
chorus girl whose stage name is Ethel
Avery. Miss Howell is beautiful and in
telligent and is a teacher in East Oakland
JGbEPil LEVO
The letters to Maxwell, she says, wer»
rather light hearted xchoolgirl effusions,
but contained nothing improper. Much
that is bail has resulted Colvin is dead,
her father is In prison, Mra. Maxwell is at
least unpleasantly conspicuous and Max
well is in bad odor with young Colvin’s
friends.
Far more cruel arid cniiKelens was the
killing of Miss Ida Kipp in Cincinnati the
ot her evening by Joseph J. lx.*vo, a poor
spirited wretch. Indeed, without the grace
and courage to slay himself, though he
professed to be anxious to die. Ida. who
was well reared and of a good family,
though not strikingly beautiful, seems to
have favored Ixsvo’s suit at first, but soon,
ami very naturally, got tired of a young
fellow who seemed to have no self reliance
or in<le|>ei>detice. He rnope«! and fretted
and cried — yes, the testimony of his fellows
I m that he often sat down and cried liecause
“his girl had gone bark on him,” Very
naturally they tried to laugh him out of
it, and then he got angry enough to shoot
He carne up to her as she was entering
the Fifth street garden, and with but one
exchange of words shot her, apparent ly
from Ixihind, as the bullet entered her head
just back of the right ear. He continued
firing after she fell and then made a des
perate race for safety, but was captured.
The girl died in a few minutes The police
say that of all the prisoners they have had
fur years Joseph G lx«vo in the most dis
gusting, as he does nothing but cry. A
stalwart machinist, twenty six or twenty
eight years old, crying like a child must l»e
a depressing sight Ida Kipp was twenty
three.
QEOIIGK NIEMAN* ( IIAULK3 NIEMANN.
It 1« a shocking affair when a sun kills a
fa’li'-r Yet if ewr auch a homicide was
justlfled It wax ho In the tw of Charles
Niemann, of Cincinnati, who recently shot
hie father. George Niemann When Charles
was five year« obi tils parents had a diffl
tally alxHit some trifling affair, and it
seems to have completely changed the old
man’s nature For flftatu years he baa
done nothing but quarrel and find fault,
occasionally maltreating his wife, who of
late years ha« b»-eri supported by her chii
draft. The father was fifty eight and tba
ton twenty
Charles had com« borne to live Ilia
tool her bad m - ur« «l an a »-«»bit«? divorce.
A LITTLC ISLAND COLONY.
Fifty White Folks Who Five on a Forty
Rock Just Big Enough for Thein.
A few months ago the handful of peo­
ple who live on Pitcairn island cele­
brated the hundredth anniversary of the
| landing of their fathers on that little
| rock. The world is always glad to hear
of the prosperity of this people, and sev­
eral other little communities inhabiting
I the smallest specks of land in the ocean
also excite much interest.
There is one island, however, of which
we seldom hear. It is Lord Howe isl-
| and, the home of fifty or sixty white
people, about 600 miles northeast of New
! South Wales. Years ago two or three
families from New Zealand thought they
I would seek a new home.
They had heard of the profuse vegeta­
tion on this crescent sha)>ed little island,
and decided that they would build new
homes there. So they went to Lord
Howe island, which is only six miles
long and about a mile wide, and rises
precipitously from the sea to a height of
nearly 8,000 feet at nearly every point.
They built their huts, tilled the land,
and after a while two or three other
families joined them. Some of these
original settlers are still living, but most
of theTesidents are their descendants.
The island is under the government of
New Zealand, and once a year it is visit­
ed by a magistrate, who settles all little
disputes. It is a very easy task, for
there are seldom any differences among
the people. Like Pitcairn and other lit­
tle island communities, they have never
found it necessary to build a jail.
There were none of the higher main-
uials on the islands when they went
there, but now there are quite a num*
her of goats, swine and cats, which, hav­
ing escaiK‘d from domesticity, have
lived in the woods so long that they
have become quite wild. While some
of the men engage in tilling their gar­
dens others are out fishing. A great
many edible fish are caught there, and
the people find it very easy to live in
comfort wit hout a large amount of labor.
They say they have not the slightest
desire to return to larger communities.
They do not encourage immigration be­
cause they think they and their children
will need all of the 3,220 acres of the isl­
and. Sometimes a sailor from a passing
ship spends a little while in the commu­
nity, and has been known to carry away
one of the daughters as his wife, but
most of the people are born, live and die
there.
They cannot ftavel more than a few
hundred rods without seeing the sea, and
of course they come to know every inch
of their little world. Once or twice a
year a vessel conies to them with a large
variety of supplies, and they purchase
with their corpa and other products the
goods they need for the ensuing year.
At the same time their libraries are re­
plenish? 1 with new liooks, a large lot of
newspapers come to their homes, and it
takes them a good while to read of all
that has happened in the busy world
since they last heard of it.—New York
L oomc the Hands of Thy Meek.
My mother used to tell a itory of
curate in a Norfolk pariah, where th<
rector was non-resident. One Sunday,
just as the curate had entered the read­
ing desk, the rector came into tho
church, and sent him a note to the effect
that he wished to preach, but had for«
gotten to bring his bands. This ap­
pendage to the clerical wardrobe was
quite indispensable in those days, and
the only way in which the curate could
help him out of the difficulty was to un­
tie his own bands and hand them up
into the three decker as soon as the
rector mounted.
Hut whi n the time mine, ns ill luck
would have it, the string of the bands
got into a knot, and by one of those un­
accountable (•oin< id<,ncrs that sometimes
occur the singers in the gallery struck
up tlie anthem “Loose the bands of thy
neck, thou captive daughter of Zion,"
and as they refloated the words over ami
over again, and one part echoed an­
other, “Loose the bands of thy neck—
loose the bands—loose the bands,” the
hapless curate became more baffled in
his hopeless endeavors to untie the knot­
ted strings, and in his nervousness sup­
posed the anthem to be directed to him.
I do not remember how it ended, but
probably the amusement it caused after«
ward may have more than couifienBated
for the annoyance of the time.—Corn­
hill Magazine.
R«m«ly Mail® Clolhlng.
I am Hometimes amaze«! in paxsing the
gnat ready mad«» clothing eritablixli-
inents of ih»st«»n to note how differently
they ar»? regurde«! than formerly. It whs
leas than a generation ago that they
were patronized nlmoBt exclusively by
workingmen, mechanics and farmers,
who denim! rough, cheaply made cloth­
ing. Merchants, banker«, profereional
men invariably left their measure with
th« ir tailors, and »corned what wm fa­
miliarly tenn« «l “»k>p made** clothing.
But a dem an« I arose for fine grade* of
ready made clothing, and the alert
Ameri« an manufacturer was ready to
meet the demarvl.
The d<-mands of the customer were
(«xacting. and to rea«’h his high standard
of excellence scientific methods were etn*
ployed and <*om|>eteiit deuigners. It was
the oh! *t««ry of the relative coet of mak­
ing one coat or of making 500.
there were men of
h< retofor«? luel I jcci
ouly by the custom
tall or too fat to be
ma«le stock of the
difficulty was noon
until to-day. although '
has by no means «lisapi
ma«Iu dealer has for his etui
clasu of m<*n who once sc
Boston Advertise
Nu I
hi
It’s fuinn. uu~t it?” lw? 6ai<l td