Inman Items.
Rev. and Mrs. B. H. Murten
of Page visited at Inman last
week.
Mr. Leo Mossman and Miss
Olga Schwink spent the fourth at
Wisner.
Mr. and Mrs. Will Goree and
children drove up to O’Neill
Tuesday.
Mr. Ed. Goodspeed and family
moved into their farm near Ne
ligh last Monday.
Mr. C. J. Malone erected
a windmill on his farm west
of Inman Saturday.
Mr. Carl Wilcox left for Fre
mont last Monday where he will
allend school for a few weeks.
Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Van
Avery spent the Fourth at Sav
age with her brother Mr. Bob
Rose.
The Messrs Ray Mossman and
Ear! Watson spent the Fourth at
Bloomfield with Mr. and Mrs. J.
P Cunningham. «
Mrs. W. B. Smith came up
from Norfolk last Friday to visit
with C. F. Smith and family and
other releatives.
Epworth Leauge will give an
ice cream social at the Hall next
Monday evening. Everybody is
cordially invited.
Mrs. Chas. Enders, who has
been visiting at Omaha with her
son Arthur of O’Neill who has
been very ill, returned home
Thursday.
Mrs. D. P. McGrane and child
ren who have been visiliting her
parents the past two weeks, went
up to O’Neill last Friday to visit
relatives for a few days before re
turning to her home at Norfolk*
Opportunity Items.
F. Hatch and C. F. Simonson
went to a picnic in Jim Brennan’s
grove.
F. Hatch is helping U. F.
Simonson paint his house this
week.
At last the drought is broken.
We had good rains on the even
ings of the 3rd and 4th.
A good sized crowd took in
the picnic at Jim Biennan’s grove
the 4II1 and they all report a
pleasant time.
Where did you spend the
Fourth? C. and J. Berger and
families, Getty, Ezra and Esther
Thomas, C. J. Simonson and
family celebrated at Ewing. They
all report a good time.
Last week we was to previous
with our items and did not get
the results of the ball game play
ed at Star on the 27 of June, be
tween Star and Opportunity,
which resulted in a score of 16
to 4 in favor of Opportunity.
Rah for Opportunity.
Farmers are now optimistic
in this locality in regard to the
prospects of a good corn crop
this year. In most cases this rain
will benefit small grain, but a
normal yield cannot be expected.
Pastures, meadows and alfalfa
will be revived and potatoes will
in all human probability be an
average crop.
Readers of The Frontier will
doubtless remember seeing in our
items of a previous issue an art
icle declaring our belief in the
existance of some valuable miner
al matter among the numerous
pebbles that abound in this lo
cality, and will no doubt be pleas
ed to learn that the investigations
of ye scribe has resulted in a
victory (a victory never the less)
which fully justifies us in enter
taining such a belief. The facts
are substantially as follows: Act
ing on the advice of a disinterest
ed party, we selected a few spece
mens, and sent them to the U. S.
Geological Survey, Washington,
D. C. for their examination and
report. They said in their reply
that some of them was chalce
donie, and the rest quartz. The
specimens were to small to be
worth much, but larger pebbles
(of which there is plenty) are
usually cut up for seitings for
cheap jewelery, which would be
worth something. That in its
self would indicate that we had
a certain source of income here
independent of what we can raise
from the soil, but that these same
stones are of the lowest rating
among the class of minerals that
are know by the name of pre
cious stones.
HIS BOLD BLUFF WON.
How a Clever Beat Worked One of
New York’s Exclusive Clubs.
It is about as hard for a stranger to
get beyond the portals of an exclusive
New York club as it is for the pro
verbial camel to get through the nee
dle’s eye. But New York clubdom Is
laughing over how one clevet person
“put It over” one of the city’s best
clubs recently.
A well dressed man drove up in a
taxicab and strode into the club. The
doorman opened the way for him. and
he walked up to the desk.
*IC» _ — J _ 1 ...i. * -ill
oeuu a uvy uui itn uij uags. wl«»
you?” he began, and the clerk rang
the bell for one of the club boys.
“A good room, please, if there are
any left tonight,” said the newcomer,
“with a bath.”
“Yes, sir: we have 218, a very good
room, sir.”
“Good! I had that room here a cou
ple of years ago.”
The bags were brought in, the boy
showed the way to the elevator and
soon the man was comfortably settled
in his room. Downstairs he came in a
few minutes and strolled out to the
grill room. There he bad a couple
of drinks, smoked a cigar and took
away a box of the club cigarettes. He
signed a “chit”—in other words, a club
check—for what he hud bought and
walked out. An hour later he came
back and went into the dining room,
where he ordered the best the club
had, prefacing his meal with a couple
of cocktails. Again he signed a “chit.”
“Taxi, please,” he demanded when
he came back to the office after taking
a couple of Havanas from the case,
signing as usual.
It Is the custom in all smart clubs
to provide cabs for members, they
signing checks for them and settling
at the end of the month when their
bill comes In. The man * drove off.
went to the theater with a lady he
called for, kept the cab the entire
evening, took her home and then re
turned to the club for a nightcap and
a cigar. Then he went upstairs to bed.
Next morning he was down bright and
early.
“Send a boy up for my bags,” he
said, “and get me a taxi. I’ve got to
catch the 9:20 train.”
He had a hearty breakfast, took a
pocketful of cigars, lighted one at the
desk, a porter carried his baggage to
the cab and away he went.
When the clerks came to enter the
checks in the ledger It was found that
this man was not a member of the
club and was not even a guest of a
member. His name was not on the
list
There was a bit of a jolt in the club
office on bill day.—New York World.
Dressed According to Law.
The grocer’s assistant In London used
to be as carefully looked after as his
employer, precise regulations being
laid down respecting the way he should
dress. His coat had to be made “close
and comely” and as well as the breech
es was to consist only of “cloth, ker
sey, sackcloth, canvasse, English leath
er or English stuffe costing not more
than 2s. Cd. the yard.” His stockings
were to be of woolen yarns or kersey,
he was not to wear "Spanish shoes
with polonia heels,” and his hair was
to be cut short He was forbidden to
wear any girdle, point, garters or shoe
strings of any kind of silk or ribbon
or any rose or such like goods upon his
shoes. A breach of these regulations
rendered him liable to eighteen hours’
imprisonment in the Guildhall.
Lucky.
Wood Norton, the famous English
estate, has been the home of foreign
royalties for over half a century. Aft
er he lost the crown of France Louis
Philippe lived there, and there is a fun
ny story told of his meeting with an
old publican after his return. The man
stood by the roadside and bowed to the
ex-klng.
"Who are you, my man?” he asked.
"I seem to know your face. Were you
here when I lived here before?”
"Please, your royal highness, I kept
the Crown.”
“Did you, indeed!” exclaimed the ex
king. “That’s more than I could do!”
Rings From Shishaldin.
On Unimak Island, Alaska, Is Shi
shaldin, which In some respects is the
most remarkable volcano in the world.
In addition to a continuous emission of
dense white smoke or steam, circular
rings apparently several hundred feet
in diameter and of wonderful sym
metry and whiteness emerge in puffs
at short intervals from the very top of
the mountain. It causes one to think
of the possibility of old Pluto of Pam
dalon smoking a cigarette.
Easiast Way Out.
"Something ought to be done to ease
the prejudice against Wall street,” said
the apprehensive citizen.
“Well.” replied Mr. Dustin Stax, “it
Is too much to ask us to move business
Into another thoroughfare. But we
eeiaht ehssso ths —zee the street.”
- - » • . - ■ - . «
It had been a warm May day with
out a breath of wind to stir the young
green leaves on the elms and maples
thut bordered the village streets.
Late in the afternoon there stole over
hill and harbor a faint bluish haze that
some said was smoke from distant for
est fires. The weatherwlse predicted a
"May fog.”
“Going out, doc?” asked old Simon
Way, the boat builder, as the young
physician passed him on the little
wharf.
“Yes, Simon, I’m going out for a
breath of fresh air, if there’s any out
there. It’s deuced hot ashore.”
“Ye won’t find any wind outside to
day,” predicted Simon, with an eye
toward the channel. “I been out there
all day aud came back with the tide.
It’s hot as thunder out there, and it’ll
be worse before ye get back.”
“You think we’ll have a squall?"
The doctor hesitated at the top of the
steps that led down to the water where
his dory was fastened. His speedy lit
tle motorboat was anchored not far
away.
“Worse than a squall for getting
around in.”
“What’s that?”
“A fog.”
"I sliull be back before it shuts
down.” The doctor straightened his
shoulders and took a deep breath.
“Ye feel shut in between these high
bluffs?” asked Simon curiously.
“Yes, but under the right conditions
I would not—there are certain things
that might change it all—bring its own
breath of paradise with it"
Simon Way went home and told his
wife that he guessed Dr. Morton was
getting tired of Bell Harbor, in spite
of the splendid practice he had acquir
ed. Mrs. Way threw a shawl over her
head and ran across the street to tell
Mrs. Clarence Sayles and that lady
delivered the information in an ab
breviated form to the effect that Dr.
Morton -was going to leave town.
Cleo Adams heard the news just as
she sat down to the supper table.
In the meantime Dr. Morton’s launch
had chugged out of Bell Harbor Into
the sound. The white bow cut the
placid water and broke up the rose
colored reflections into rippling waves
of rose and silver flecked foams.
All about him was a wall of fog,
now shot with a queer pinkish glow.
As he shut off the power and the
engine ceased throbbing he listened
for some sound to break the silence
that was upon the waters.
“This will be a good place to think It
over,” he snid to himself and then re
alized that he had expressed the crav
ing of his heart—ever since Cleo Ad
ams had laughed at his offer of mar
riage.
He stared unseelngly into the fog,
his thoughts revolving around that
episode of last night
Dr. Morton had wooed Cleo Adams
In the shy way that is characteristic of
many men of his profession, and when
the time came when he could no longer
withhold his confession of love, he had
done an unusual thing.
It was 0 o’clock the previous evening
when he had entered his little office
and sank wearily Into a chair before
his desk. His housekeeper had left a
supper for him and gone to prayer
meeting. The house was quiet
Suddenly he picked up the telephone
receiver and held it to his ear as he
called Cleo’s number. He felt very cool
and professional as he waited for a
reply from the Adams home.
It came at last in Cleo’s low, clear
voice:
“Yes?” she inquired.
"Is this Miss Cleo?” asked the doctor
calmly.
“This is Miss Adams,” she replied to
his satisfaction.
"Cleo,” he almost whispered, fighting
bnck the shyness that almost choked
his utterance of the important words—
“Cleo, I love you, dear; could you
marry meV”
Then had come on instant’s hesita
tion. He was prepared for that, but
her light, stinging laugh was a stun
ning surprise to him. “No, thank you!”
she had said airily and hung up the
receiver with a little defiant clatter.
Dr. Morton sat in his chair, motion
less and white, until his scandalized
housekeeper had arisen from her bed
and come downstairs to inform him
that it was past 2 o’clock. ThercuDoo
he had shaken himself together and
retired, ®nly to spend a sleepless night
befoi|t he arose to fulfill the duties of
another day’s dull routine.
Now he had left it all behind. In the
solitude afforded by the fog he would
battle with his trouble and master it.
But he did not reckon with the fog.
While he sat there thinking bitter
thoughts about Cleo Adams, who now
appeared to be shallow and heartless
when once he had believed her to be
earnest, sincere and far above coquetry
in any of its forms, his boat was drift
ing idly with the tide. Little by little
he was floating away from the shore,
and not until he heard the blast of the
foghorn of the shoals lighthouse did
he realize his position. At once he
started the engine and turned toward
Bell Harbor.
It was growing dark now, and the
fog clung molstly to his face and
bands and every sbred of hie garments.
ft entered his throat and almost stran*'j
gled him, so raw and penetrating was it.
Something dark loomed before him.
and at the same instant a fog bell tolled
close at hand.
A big Bound steamer rushed past
him, a menacing death from which he
had barely escaped.
The foghorn he had first heard had
not been the shoals light. It was the
steamer bearing down u^m hfcn.
Where had he drifted? He could not
tell, except that it must be in the path
of the eastward bound steamers.
lie resolved to steer in the direction
where he believed Bell Harbor to be.
He would go very slowly and cautious
ly, and when he drew near enough to
Bell Harbor breakwater ho could see
the pale glow of its sentinel lantern
and thus find his way through the
tortuous channel into the harbor.
But the doctor was an amateur. The
launch was a new diversion and a
plaything to him, and because he was
a more skillful physician than he was
a navigator he chugged helplessly
around for two hours before he ad
mitted that he was lost in the fog.
Another hour passed in fruitless go
ing to and fro. He had heard the
blare of the shoals light foghorn, but
his ignorance of the waters about here
made it Impossible for him to calcu
late distances or directions. He laugh
ed rather scornfully at his foolish
hopes when he had bought the motor
1-i. C-11_ t rnnn an a»/1nnfc
UUUl. Lieu AUUU13 nao mu «* uoui
sailor, and he had planned many de
lightful trips in the boat which as
yet had no name. He wanted to call it
after her.
The doctor was now prepared to
spend the night on the sound. He had
not heard anything that might indi
cate the presence of other craft in his
neighborhood. He concluded that all
other boats must be anchored, waiting
for the fog to lift. Of course he did
not dare to enter the cabin of the
launch and sleep.
Just then a strange sound, odd
enough heard there In the fog at 10
o'clock In the evening, smote upon his
strained ears.
it was the voice of a woman singing.
The sweet tones came tremulously
across the water, and involuntarily
the doctor turned his craft and headed
In the direction of the voice.
To his delight It grew louder and
clearer ns he went on this course, and
now he could distinguish the words of
the hymn:
"Pull for the shore, sailor, pull for the
shore!"
“It sounds ns If It wns meant for
me,” be muttered, bending his head
to peer through the fog for the first
glimpse of the mysterious singer.
Guided by the voice of the singer,
who rendered verse after verse of the
stirring song with tireless patience
now that the first tremolo had been
overcome. Dr. Morton drew nearer to
the sound until a peculiar orange glow
indicated the nearness of a light.
Could It be the entrance to Bell
Harbor channel? If so, who was that
singing there on the black rocks of
the breakwater?
He held to his course with the light
on his left and, to his delight, left it
behind. He was entering the channel
nnd would soon be Inside Bell Harbor.
The voice suddenly stopped and then
spoke In tones vaguely familiar to
him—perhaps the fog disguised It.
“Boat ahoy!" it called.
"Here!” returned Morton quickly.
“Is that Dr. Morton?”
“Yes. Can 1 take you off? Am I
needed?”
“Come carefully—follow my voice—
there!” as the bout Jarred against a
large rock. “Steady a moment!"
A pale form moved out of the fog
and without effort entered his boat,
shoving off from the rock before it
groped to a seat beside him.
"If you will give me the wheel I can
steer you directly to the w’harf,” said
the voice of Cleo Adams calmly, and
without a word the astonished physi
cian gave the wheel Into her hands and
slid along the seat to make room for
her.
"How came you there?" he asked
curiously, after he had related the de
tails of his being lost in the fog and
how her singing had guided him safely
to port.
Her voice trembled slightly: “Simon
Way told father you had gone out in
the fog ngalnst his advice and that you
had not returned. Father worried be
cause his lameness prevented him from
coming to your rescue. I said nothing
to them, but came out In my boat to
look for you. It sprang a leak, nnd I
abandoned it and climbed on the rocks.
I was sure you could hear my voice
and would find the way back.” She
spoke practically und, except for the
tremble in her voice, appeared quite
unmoved by the heroism of her deed.
“You came out here to save my
life?” he asked hoarsely.
"You saved my father's life last win
ter,” she retorted, adding, “You are
such a good doctor that we cannot af
ford to lose you, although I hear you
are going uwuy.”
"After last night you could hardly
profess to care,” he said bitterly.
"Last night? I did not see you last
night In fact, I was In Cloverton.
They had sickness in Uncle Joe’s fam
ily,” said Cleo.
“Then who talked with me over your
telephone?” he asked quickly.
“It must have been Stella Morris.
She was to remain with father and
mother all night. What did she say?
She is such a giddy, tbougtless girl"—
Cleo faltered into silence as his words
tumbled forth breathlessly in explana
tion.
"What would you have said?” he de
manded.
“Yes," whispered Cleo as their facet
touched.
When they named the doctor’s mo
torboat they cnled her the Fog Lady,
and nobody knew sav^ Dr. Morton and
his wife just what It meant.
UNCONSCIOUS COUNTING.
Train tha Mind to Number Grouped
Objects at a Glance.
It has always formed a part of the
professional conjurer’s education to ac
quire the power of making Instant
mental note of many objects. A Ger
man advocate of the theory that every
ono should cultivate some similar sys
tem of counting has suggeste(Tthat the
ability of mos* persons of distinguish
ing from three to five objects at a
glance may be so perfected that the
mind will find it possible to take note
of at least thirty articles In the same
length of time. This authority, Treyer,
has declared that he can count thirty
objects of the same kind as easily as
other persons can count three or four.
Apart from such usefulness as this
acquired power may Impart, the meth
od of teaching it Is of luterest. The
test of one’s ability in counting is ensi
ly made by placing several small ob
jects, such ns ping or coins, under n
sheet of paper and then lifting the pa
per so that oue may glance at the ar
ticles and give an Immediate guess as
to their number.
At first the eye finds it possible to
distinguish only three or four objects,
but practice soon enables the experi
menter to manage any under ten with
facility. Above that number the proc
ess becomes more difficult. Conscious
counting is not permitted. The arti
cles must be merely "valued.”
To perfect oneself in this practice
black spots, forming various geometri
cal figures, may be made upon squares
of white cardboard, the number being
gradually increased and the positions
altered.
It is said that the sensation of a
person practiced in unconscious count
ing when looking attentively at large
numbers of objects is that their num
ber "shoots rapidly through the head.”
—Philadelphia Record.
SAVAGES OF ECUADOR.
Th* Jibaro* Gavo On* Spanish Gov
ernor Hi* Fill of Gold.
if you are looking for a real wild
Indian seek the Jibaro. Perhaps you
never henrd of him, but you should,
for he’s the wildest, most savage and
uncultured type of redskin who thrives
today. War and the Jibaro are synony
mous. No other Indian tribe In history
has so determinedly and successfully
resisted efforts to conquer it as this
tribe of the Jibaro.
Today the Jibaro, 15,000 strong, rule
supreme over the vast forest regions
of Eucador between the Santiago and
Patnso rivers and southward to the
Amazon. It Is one of the most pictur
esque and primitive of all surviving
tribes of redskins. Once when partly
subjugated to Spanish rule they were
goaded to rebellion by enforced labor
in the mines of their taskmasters and
marched 20,000 strong Into the strong
hold of their enemy and in one night
completely annihilated the 12,000 In
habitants. As an example of their
savagery they killed the governor by
pouring molten gold down Ids throat In
order that he “might have his 1111 of
gold."
Like tnctics are still pursued, and
the Jibaro Is little molested. War Is
their normal condition, their favorite
weapons being the lance, the javelin
and the blow gun with poisoned ar
rows, which have served them with
deadly efficiency.
Little Is known of their religious or
mythological beliefs. There are about
1,400 Jlbaros who are Christians, but
few of these are of the full blooded
type and are scorned by the majority
of the tribe. Missionaries say the Jl
baros will never break from ancient
customs.—Catholic Encyclopedia.
Railway Wheels.
Did you ever notice that the wheels
of a locomotive engine are beveled?
The reason for this Is that In rounding
a curve the outer rail Is, of course, a
little longer thnn the Inner one. The
difference Is very little, but It would
be enough to make an engine "skid”
unless It were reckoned for. In the
beveled wheel the higher part, with Its
greater circumference, Is forced against
the outer rail by the very tendency of
the engine to drive straight ahead, and
with the other wheel the smaller cir
cumference rests on the rail, thus over
coming the difference in the lengths of
the lines.
“An Old Police Trick."
Defending a man charged at West
Ham with drunkenness, a solicitor
said: “It’s a very old trick for two
policemen when taking a man to the
station to walk out of step. The re
sult Is that the prisoner lurches from
one side to the other, and he is sup
posed to be unable to walk without as
sistance.”—London Standard.
A Different Mission.
"Well, old man, how’s tricks?”
"Miss Wallaby accepted me last
night”
“I suppose you are around today ac
cepting congratulations.”
“No; I’m around today trying to bor
row $200 to buy the ring.”—Louisville
Courier-Journal.
A Shrinking Nature.
Mr. Goodsole—What’s your real ob
jection to taking a bath?
Soiled Samuel—You see, mister, I’m
so delicate dat If I even git near de wa
ter I shrink.—Exchange.
New Danger.
Wife—Did you read about the awful
railroad wreck? Husband—Yes, but
for heaven’s sake don’t let your mother
know or she won’t dare to go home.—
Satire.
Every base occupation makes one
sharp in Its practice and dull In every
I other.—Sidney.
--~1-|—IB II— |
WHIMSICAL WILLS
Human Nature as Shown In
Queer Requests and Bequests.
FEAR OF PREMATURE BURIAL
This Dread Has Often Bean the Causa
of Curious Provisions In Last Testa
ments—The Grave of a Man Who
Disliksd the Society of Woman.
The remarkable will of a man who
died not long ago directing the under
taker to stab him through the heart
after he had been pronounced dead by
his physician is not a unique one. The
fear of being burled alive has driven
many a man to stipulate in his will
that extraordinary steps be taken to
make sure of death.
Thus, for instance, a magnate of
Plymouth, England, decreed by his
will that his wife should cut off one
of his toes Or fingers to make sure he
was dead, adding that ho made the
request so that “as she had been trou
bled with one old fool she will not
think of marrying a second."
The will of Lord Lytton contained
special directions as to the examina
tion of his body in order to provide
against the possibility of his being
burled while in a trance, which ap
peared to be an apprehension of his.
A farmer of Hertfordshire, England,
who died In 1720, was so certain that
his lethal slumber was to be not really
death, that he inserted in his will his
written wish that, “as he was about
to take a thirty years' nap, his coffin
might be suspended from a beam In
his barn and by no means nailed
down.” He, however, permitted it to
be locked, provided ft hole were made
In the side, through which the key
might be pushed, so that he might let
himself out when he awoke. His
nephew, who inherited the property,
obeyed his whim and did not bury the
coffin till 1751, allowing him an extra
year of grace.
The Slenr Boby, who died in 1845 at
the age of ninety-six, said In his will:
“Eight and forty hours after my de
cease I desire that a post mortem ex
amination be made, that my heart be
taken out and placed in an urn, which
shall bo Intrusted to M. Baudoln (the
undertaker). In conformity with an
arrangement between him and myself
my heart is to be conveyed to a
mausoleum In the department of La
Mayenne and there to be deposited, as
agreed.”
Robert, the famous Earl of Mellent
and Leicester, one of the early cru
saders In the holy land, died In 1118
In the abbey of Preaur, where his
body was burled, but his heart was
conveyed to the hospital at Brackley,
there to be preserved In salt Isabella,
daughter of the Earl of Pembroke, who
died In 1239, ordered her heart to be
sent In a silver cup to her brother,
then abbot of Tewkesbury, to be burled
there before the high altar. The heart
of John Ballol, lord of Barnard cas
tle, who died In 1269, was by his wid
ow’s desire Inclosed In an Ivory casket
richly enameled with silver.
But all these examples, strange as
they may be, are not especially re
markable among the countless num
bers of curious wills which are record
ed through many generations.
There Is, for example, the will of a
rich old bachelor, who, Incensed at
what he considered the attempts of his
family to put him under the yoke of
matrimony, vented his spite on the
whole sex of women by saying In his
will: “I beg that my executors will
see that I am buried where there Is no
woman interred, either to the right or
to the left of me. Should this not be
practicable In the ordinary course of
things I direct that they purchase
three graves and bury me In the mid
dle one of the three, leaving the two
others unoccupied.” 1
John Reed, gaslighter of the Walnut
Street theater, Philadelphia, filled that
post for forty-four years. There Is
not on record a single performance at
the theater at which he was not pres
ent He never aspired to appear on
the stage In his lifetime, but he was
not without his mute ambitions, and
before he died he contrived ingenious
ly to make sure of assuming a Shake
spearean role after his death. A clause
in his will read:
"My head is to be separated from
my body immediately after my death,
the latter to be burled in a grave, the
former, duly macerated and prepared,
to be brought to the theater, where I
have served all my life, and to be em
ployed to represent the skull of Yorlck,
and to this end 1 bequeath my head to
the properties.”—New York Sun. :
The Fingerless Glove.
How early did mankind think of the
convenience of the fingerless glove
which modem babies, fishermen and
Alpine climbers appreciate so greatly?
We hear little of gloves In ancient
times, and In most cases it Is obvioue
that they had fingers. Those worn by
the secretary of the younger Pliny,
used when he visited Vesuvius so that
he might keep on jotting down notes In <
spite of the cold, must have been fln-|
gered no less than those of the glutton
in Athenaeus who wore gloves at table
so that he might handle the meat while
hot and get in advance of his bare
handed fellow diners. One of the ear
liest known wearers of a glove with
only a thumb is an Anglo-Saxon lady
known In Planche’s “History of British
Costume.” Her gloves exactly resem
ble a modern baby’s.
My precept to all who build Is that
the owner should be an ornament to
the house, and not the house to the
owner—Cicero. |
