The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899, April 28, 1898, Image 2
M . ; '-If'!. 1 S f r;; ! f i J . II' ' f h 4 f I r L CHAPTEK IX. (Continued.) On day the idea that Will and she ere parted for aU their lives bore in o forcibly upon her mind that the poor thild could find no relief except in tears. She had wandered to a part of the park rhich wan called "The Fairy Dell," on iceouat of the way In which the tree were interlaced abore it, and the lovely arret of moil and fern that wai spread teneath them. "Why do you cry?" demanded a child's roii.,.- close to her ear. Evelyn looked np in amazement I;: the fairy dell, with her hands full of lue forget-me-nots, stood, the loveliest Srtle girl she had ever seen. In age be tween six and seven years old, her flaxen iair curled like spun silk about her face and shoulders, and her large blue eyes, haded by dark lashes, looked out at Eve lyn wistfully from a complexion of milk and roses. Evelyn saw nothing but the face charming, cherub-like face that beamed on her like that of a little angel. "Oh, you darling I" she exclaimed. "Wi-ere did you come from? What is - four name?" "I'm Aggie, and I've run away," re plied the little one, with infantine glee. "But where have you run from, my darling? Come nearer don't be afraid of me and tell me where you live." . 'Tm n,ot afraid," replied the child, bold ly drawing close to her new friend, and paring up into her face. "I'm Aggie, and I live over there," waving her band iu a vague manner about ber bead. Evelyn Rayne was affectionate and im pulsive. Her heart was hungering for love amidst all the luxury with which she was surrounded, and the child's sympa thy touched her deeply. She opened her - arms suddenly, and clasped her to her bosom with an intuition that they would love each other. And the intuition proved to be correct. She soon found that the little girl was Agnes Featherstone, the only child of a rich banker and his wife, UviLg at Featherstone Hall, a place about a mile distant from Mount Eden. Mrs. Featherstone was very pleased her daughter should have the advantage of an older companion to look after and play with her. and Ewlyn soon loved Agnes with a devotion that could scarcely have been exceeded had she been her own. Her heart was empty, and she filled it with little Agnes Featherstone. When Evelyn was nineteen, Miss Mid dleton left her. She considered her pupil's education was finished, and that it was time she assumed her position as head of her nude's ht; Behold. But a very few weeks after this chance had been made, the mot unexpected event of our heroine's life occurred to her. Fhe came flown to breakfast one mora ine to lie told by Mrs. Wedderbum that .Mr. f'jtrjil wsis no more. He had been fw ' iVsd in hi bed when his attendant we: :.j rotiM" hint. I" ''iyn received c news as any youi j: gir! would have done with a terrible sense of horror and bereavement. She wov.u have sent at uae for her Aunt Ms ;a to keep her coss'pauy, but. alas! poo- Mis liajne (who had looked for-' wa ' to that day as one in which Eve lyn '-oi:M not forget her.) had joined the gTf f majority six months before, and her niece felt utterly alone. ' Tsen came tbe funeral, and the law yer?, and the will; and she heard, to her am:. . i stent, that instead of a legacy, as she ':.:! expected, she was left (failing the return of her co'jri:; Iltigh) the sole 'Inheritrix of that vast cnstle, with fifteen thousand a year to keep it np on. i chapter x. ",' ion't believe," said Captain Philip, as he v'retchei himself with more pleas ure than prudence on the thyme-scented, moss-enameled turf, "I don't believe, If you were to (search all England or the world Itwlf, for that matter you could End a lovelier spot than Mount Eden." "I quite agree with you,' replied John Vernon, a he inhaled a deep draught of the fresh, exhilarating air, and his eye revel over an expanse of undulating hills and fertile pasture lands. It was spring. The trees had just as sumed a mantle of tender green, and the U'.acs and laburnums were in blossom. John Vernon, fresh home from sea, strod by the captain's Fide, with his sun burnt face and curly head uncovered, looking as if be could never be satisfied with the natural beauties that surround ed him. "It is lovely." continued Vernno, pres ently exquisitely and nnmitigatingly lovely. We've knocked about a bit to gether. Captain Philip, and we've seen some grand scenery in India and Aus tralia, on the Himalaya Mountains, and tn the bush, but nothing to beat this. Just lof.k at those uplands !o the left. When ti.e breeze ripples through the young blades of grass, you might fancy you were on the sea azain. What splendid timber there is on the estate, too. and what rich (snarasf! I counted thirty cowa In that field yonder." "I dare s;iy," rejoined the captain, care lessly; "and that'a not the half of the milking herd. A good deal of the reve nues of Mount Eden are derived from its dairy and farm produce. I could hardly tell you. without reference to my books. bow many head of rattle we tend op to the Lor don market annually. "fetich place moat be worth thousands a year." "It is worth fifteen thousand, or there abouts." "And It all Moot to a bit of a firll How aboard It asims," said Vernon, who considered the lane law as a gross In jury to the stronger sex. Captain Philip laughed. "Ynnr description hardly appliee to Miss Ravne. In the first place, she la a worn en who baa left her girlhood behind her. In the second, aha la a very tall and die nificd one." "Oh. I tee! Am eld Bald." "Hardly that, eKher," returned the cap tain, dryly: "Mian Bays waa twenty even, I beusrra, oa her teat birthday. Bnt be Is qsrtte ee,aaJ to snsnsgisg her owa affaire, aad wtaMa her aeaatar twar hloaat Eden royally." "Captain Patta," aaid the yoanger sua, after a paaaa, "will yon forgive me for aartec mmmmmt Thai la a beautlfai Mirtrr aad a aha flag estate. I e admira It aa saosa aa yea 4a, aad after taochiag ahaat at sea far the iaet three rea, tt rart aad 'ha ehaac are but toe delightful. Yet I ceuld not endure it for always. I should miss the excitement and active work of our profession. This peaceful, uneventful life would pall upon me, and I cannot understand your having chucked up the service so suddenly, to bury yourself down here." John Vernon was a young fellow of per haps two-and-twenty, who had had but little experience of life. It did not, there fore, strike him as anything strange that Captain Philip should busy himself in filling and lighting a pipe before be an swered his observation. "My boy," he said, when he did speak, "I never cared for the service as you do. I entered it before I knew what I was about, or what lay before me, and I stayed in it because there was no other opening for me. But it was never a pro fession to my taste." "And jet you were always quoted to me as such an excellent seaman, with a per fect knowledge of your duties," replied Vernon, in a tone of disappointment. "I tried to do my duty, Jack, while I remained tn it. and probably, had this billet not been offered to me, I might have been in the merchant service to this day. But but well, I don't mind telling you, lad, that I was brought up in a higher social sphere, and that the moral atmos phere and surroundings of a seafaring life were never to my taste. It Is differ ent with you. Jack. You eome of a fam ily of sailors, and, I dare say, your moth er mixed your first pap with salt water. You are in your right element at sea, and you will go on till you reach the top of the tree. I shall see you, if I live, with a ship or two of your own, by-and-by, while I am still checking the farrier's and corn-chandler's accounts for Mount Eden." "And you can prefer such work," ex claimed Vernon, rather contemptuously, "to the glorious excitement of riding over the waves, and the substantial bepefit of trading with foreign couutries? Captain Philip, I cannot understand it. To live all alone in that little cottage, pretty as it may be, and spend one's life in looking after somebody else's money, is so tame and unvaried an existence compared to that to which we have been accustomed, that it would drive me mad." "And to me it Is paradise. Therein lies the difference," replied Captain Philip, calmly pulling at his pipe. "I like my own company, Vernon, and I love Mount Eden. My pipe Is sufficient society for me, as a rule, and I like to feel that I am directing the management of this vast estate, and making it yield all the profits of which it is capable." "What is your interest in it?" demand ed Veruon curtly. His companion started. "My interest! Why, that of land agent and overseer, to be sure. What other in terest could I have? I am Miss Kayne's servant, b t I am also her right hand and confidential adviser; and I don't think she would hud it easy to replace me. I have the same interest in Mount Eden that I bad in my ship; I want to do my duty by it. That is alL" "But you knew this part of Hampshire before you came to Mount Eden, cap tain?" "Who told you so?" "I guessed it from your evident famil iarity with everything about you. One does not gain such a thorough knowledge of the soil and the idiosyncracies of the people in a twelvemonth." "Well, I was in the county as a boy in fact, I was born iu Hampshire," said Captain Philip, somewhat reluctantly; "but that fact could have no power to keep me in my present position, for I left it too early te have obtained any service able knowledge. And I have no friends living here now none whatever." They bad been strolling leisurely along a breezy bit of upland, and then through a green lane, on their way to the stables, and had just turned Into a copse at the foot of the lower drive. Veruon looked up and saw a tall, gracioua woman ad vancing slowly to meet them, with her hands full of fragrant blossoms. All be saw was a small head, crowned with a luxuriance of chestnut hair, which spoke well for the physical health of Its owner! a broad, intellectual forehead, a month full of firmness aud sweetness combined, and a pair of lovely dark blue eyes, large, long and heavy-lidded, but with a very searching look in their Mediterranean depths. Her beauty burst upon John Ver non like a revelation. He thought he had never seen so truly handsome a wom an if lia life before. CHAPTER XI. "Good morning, Captain Philip," the said, with a smile and aa Inclination of ber bead, but without offering him her band; "I saw you coming over the three cornered poteh and waited to speak to you here." "Good morning, Misa Rayoe. I bone you are quite well?" responded the cap tain; "I have been showing my young friend, Mr. Vernon, who is staying at the cottage for a few days, the view from Fern Hill, and he is as charmed with it as the rest of the world." A Captain Philip indicated the pres ence and personality of John Vernon, Miss Rayne turned to him and bowed, hut very Blightly. There waa evidently just that understanding between her land agent and herself that there should be. She was perfectly at ease with Captain Philip, but she was not familiar with him. "1 am glad that Mr. Vernon admires our scenery," said Evelyn, after a panae, "and it Is a day to make everything look Ita beat. I wonder," abe continued, ton ing on ber heel to gaae at ber fair do main, "I wonder If there Is an eonntry in the world where print i more beautl fai than in England?" "In America," commenced Vernon, with all the confidence of a very young aaan, before the other sex baa taken to snub bing him; "In the Western States of America, Miaa Rayne, the spring " Miaa Rayne turned upon bian suddenly with an unmistakable look of displeasure tn ber eyea. "I know nothing of America," she said hurriedly, aa she buried her face In her flowers; "Captain Philip, I am afraid wa hall bare to d lamia Roberta after all. Wlteoa telle me he was the worse for liaoor agia but night." "I waa aa mj way to the atablaa to la talra into It, Miaa Raa, aad into a fraah error la hla account. Jaat laak at that j bill," replied Captain Philip. i i,Uu lug a long slip or paper from his waistcoat pocket. "Absurd," she exclaimed; "forty liuh els of oats. Captain Philip, it cannot be forty. It is too ridiculous!" "It is written down forty, pi in enough," he answered, "but he cannot have fairly used half the quantity. I am afraid there is nothing for it but ditmiisal. The man will evidently take no warning." "We must go and see about it." said Miss Rayne promptly. She turned quickly, aud, without an other glance at Vernon, walked by Cap tain Philip's side. The captain paw that she expected him to accompany her aloue. "Go back and wait for me at the cot tage, Jack," be called over his shoulder to the young man, who was compelled un willingly to obey. A few minutes' walk brought him to his friend's cottage. He threw himself into an arm chair, and be gan to think it must be dinner time. The cloth waa spread upon the table. A large ham, cut, a few fresh, crip let tuces, and a Stilton cheese stood on it; and when the captain returned, a dish of new potatoes would complete the frugal meal. He had warned Vernon v. hat he had to expect in visiting Bachelor Hall. He had retained all the simple habits of seafaring life. A heavy meal revolted in stead of stimulating his appetite, and he lived almost as sparingly as a hermit. Hut there was nothing hermit-like iu the miin ner in which, half an hour later, the cap tain entered the cottage. His bundi-oiue face was smiling joyfully, and he flung his oft felt bat down on the floor like an impetuous boy. "No more work to-day. .lack!" be ex claimed, "and as soon as we've swallowed our dinner we'll ride over to I,eightou aud see tue retrievers I was talking to you about this morning. 1 suppose you can manage to stick .u a horse, and I have always the privilege f mounting a friend from the Mount Eden stables." "But what's in the wind now, captain?" inquired the younger man, as they drew their chairs up to the table and commenc ed to attack the ham; "I thought you said this afternoon was to see the foundation laid to a new decoy '!" "So it was arranged, my boy; but every thing's altered now. Mits Kayne has re ceived news that put everything else out of her head. The Feathersloues have re tujijed to the lis II." "And is that circumstance of sufficient importance to ni.et all her plans?" "My dear fellow, you don't understand the attachment that exists between Miss Rayne and Miss Featherstone, or you wouldn't ask such a question. I never saw two people so fond of one another in my life before! They are simply insep arable, or rather they have been until this winter. But Mrs. Featherstone took it suddenly Into ber head that her daugh ter's education could not lie completed without visiting Paris aud Home, and so they left England six months ago, and Miss Rayne has not been the same crea ture without them." "I wonder she did not go, too." "How could she? She has ber estate to look after," rejoined the captain quick ly. "She could leave It safely in your hands, surely T' "Not entirely. You don't know how completely she associates herself w ith the management of affairs. She is her own bailiff and steward, and tl was going to add) farrier, but she really knows more about doctoring the stock than the village j veterinary. She gave a ball to a horse this morning that the grooms dared not approach." "I don't like to see a woman do such unfemlnine things," said Vernon semen tiously. "Don't you?" replied Captain Philip, in his dry way, "at any rate, Mount Eden would get on very badly without Mihs Rayne." CHAPTER XII. Meanwhile Evelyn the same Evelyn we hsve known, and yet so unlike what she was In her girlish days waa roam ing about the big house, restless and ei cited, in anticipation of the promised meet, lug with Agnes Featherstone. It wa not an ordinary affection v.bich sbe felt for this yoing girl. One could see that by the trembling eagerness with which she changed her dress in anticipation of the arrival of her friend; by the nervous fin gers that arranged and rearranged the ornaments about her sitting room, and the repeated journeys she made backward and forward to the window to see if there were any signs of Agues' approach. By the time that the carriage wheels from Featherstone Hall stopped before the portico, her cheeka were burning, and her eyes beaming with excitement and suspense. Agnes did not wait to be aa nounced, but leaping from the carriage, ran straight to the morning room, whrre she knew that she would tind her friend. As soon as the young women met, they flew into each other's arms, arid for a few minute nothing was to be heard but the aound of their repeated kissing, and a few low sobs of pleasure from Agnes Fea therstone. They separated at last, but it waa only to fly together again with an other series of embraces; and then Eve lyn drew Agnus gently toward a sofa, and sat down beside her with ber arm about her waist. The tears were standing on both their faces as they turned to look at one another. "And so, my darling, I have got yon back again at last?" said Evelyn. "Ob, Agnes, this separation has been a weary one for me. While you have been danc ing, and flirting, and going to operas and concerts, yon naughty puss, I have been hungering and thirsting for the sight of your face and the sound of your voice. I did not realise bow very necessary yon were to my happiness tuitil wt parted, Agnes." The younger girl looked troubled, and a little perplexed. "And do you suppose I have not felt It also, Evelyn T There has not been a day that I didn't want you, dear. My pleasures would have been doubled bad you been there to share them with me. As it waa, there always seemed something wanting in everything to me. Mamma said at last that she was quite sick of hearing me say so." , "I'm afraid Mrs. Featherstone moat have thought you didn't appreciate all the trouble sbe waa taking oa your account But sbe doesn't know, even after all thia time, bow much we love each other, dar ling. When will you come aad stay with me. Agnes? Why not remaia at Mount Edea now you arc aera? Mrs. feather stone will be too busy settling herself to rights to miss you for the nett few days." Agnes' face palpably fell at the propa attiaa, which la farmer days sbe would hara gladly acceded to. "Oh, Kvelya, dear, I cannot possibly re maia with east at Was. la Mamma conlft not spare me, because bv isntM we are not quite alone. Papa baa some friends at the Hall," nhesaid lamely. "Guests alresd ! and you only arrived last nifc'ht! What a nuisance for your ui uoma. I low in that. Ague"?" They-at least 1 mean he-there is only one gentleman crowd with us from ('alaih." stammered Agnes. "Some acquaintance you made abroad, I suppose. Is he a foreigner?" "No-that is. we did meet him abroad -la Florence. I think-but be'n not a for eigner, although be has lived for a long time in France and Italy, and looks very much like so Italian. And he sings, Eve lyn oh, beautifully! and draws, and paints, and plays the violin." "How nii-e! And what is his name, dear?" "Mr. I.yle Jaer Lyle. Pupa says it's a very good name, and he feels satisfied he comes of a good family. But all his people are dead. He is the last of his race. Isn't it sad ?" "He is like me, then, Agnes. I, too, have no living relatives. Mr. Lyle and I should have a fellow feeling." returned Evelyn, smiling gravely. "Is he an old man?" "Oh, no, not at all! Al)ut thirty, I think. But, Evelyn " "Well, darling?" "I hare something to tell you some thing very serious and important, and perhaps you will be angry with me be cause I have not told it you before. Oh, Evelyn, you will never lielieve it, but I am engaged to be married to him, and I do love him so." (To be continued.) JHcd at His Pom. Mathleu Ioozelot Is still remembered In Paris aa one of the most f.'iJthful and courageous men w ho ever served a pa per an a reporter. His lat assignment and what came of It is told by Monsieur Trltum lu the Petit Journal. One day a riot w as apprehended, and Donzelot waa sent to the Pantheon to report the evenu In that quarter. Al ready the stent's were fly!ug and the lawless mob had begun to tear up the streets and barricade them. One of Donielot'a friends saw him as be was running by, and said to him: "What are you doing here? Rnn and save yourself!" Donzelot made no reply, and again his friend urged blui to leave so dan gerous a 8 pot. "I am not going to move," he said; "but as you are going, kindly take this copy along with you to the paper; you will save me time." An hour passed, and the disorder waa at Its height. The mob bad already be gun to clash seriously with the authori ties. Suddenly the Garde National fired a Tollcy, and Doozelot fell, his breast pierced by a bullet. A surgeon rusned up to blm. "You are hurt?" he acked. "Yes." replied Donzelot, "seriously, I thin.; I cannot use my pencil." "Never mind your pencil," returned the surgeon, sharply. "The question is to Rave your life." "Fion't be In a hurry," returned Don zelot, quietly. "To each man his own duty. Mine Is to get the story, and you niuat help me. Hero, write at the foot of this page this poetwript: '3:20 p. m. At the fire of the troops three men fell wounded, and one was killed.'" "Why, which one la killed?" inked the doctor. "I am," replied the reporter; and ha fell bark dead. Sorting Hawed Timber. The Story of a line Board" Is one of the articles In the St. Nicholas. Mr. W. S. Hurwood, who writes It, tells of the growth of the tree, the felling of It by lumbermen, Its passage to the mill, and the cutting Into boards. Then he says: A system of rollers carries the sawed lumber and the slab from the saws to the distant end of the mill, where the boards are trimmed and sorted. The rollers are revolving cylinders of steel, raised Just enough from the tables In which they are set to keep the lumber In motion. Standing at the end of the roller-carriage, a blue-bloused work man with bis sharp picaroon directs the board In any direction be wishes, the rough slabs being sent along ona set of subordinate rollers to be shaved up Into shingles or ripped Into kindling for city consumption, while the boards pass up a broad, Inclined table, whera whizzing little saws trim them and saw them Into the requisite lengths. In a high rage Dear the top of the room a workman operates a series of levers like those In use In a railway switch yard, directing the pieces of lumber as they pass up the Incline. Tbe lumber them tumbles down the other side of the Incline, and Is ready for piling. Fats and Food. Fats, Including all palatable oils, ar valuable aa foods, and under favorable conditions may be digested and ab sorbed In considerable quantities by a healthy adult Yet It Is a popular sup position that fat la unwholesome, and lu many cases tbe eating of fat doea cauaa discomfort To lira naturally, everyone should spend a part of tbe day In physical ex ercise, preferably In the open air. Bx arclaa la raqulalta for tbe digestion of fat Lack Of exardsa Is one reason why, la maay etaaa, fata disagree with tho consumer. Too dlgaatibUlty of differ sot fata rary. Buttor aad cod liver oil art la tna f roat rank aa ragarda ease of digestion. It la not easy to over-estimate the valu of cod-ilvar oil aa a tonic for a child born with aa lacUa&Uoa to ennsnaap- Uoa, aa indicated by concha, Ui or enrratnr of tho tptao. Tha ?ahM of mod butter la tho aaaat la not wlooiy aaoagh raaogalaad, AsBbtgraosxa. Taa, a enr cast mahing la front of bm aad I dollbarately raa artr alas." "Poor doggla." "Way do yon any tbatr "Bocaoao my aynpntaios art lwaa wlta tho wsdar doH--OsOTiaal TtOM SPRING STYLES HERE THEY WERE SETTLED VERY EARLY THIS YEAR. Hxiices of Jacket Cnt that Do Away with Outer Wraps in Fine Weather Hie Yoked Ho.lk-e U Aualn a Most Popular Garmeut. Attire for Indoors ant Out. New York correxpondence: PlUNii myles are Weil settled, which i hey were earlier than uual be cause of two rea sons. First be cause women's di.siaMe for mak ing a show of t h e ui s el vex on Easter Sunday is ey ' W rush Into ne' i V' ft things Ix'fore tht I day, for it woul new hat ould never do to wait till after it; aDd. secoud, the unusu al abundance of fine days early in March, which hur ried on the new fci-asou. As utiual. tbe Ignoring of wrap will le notio-alile from now until the days are warm enough to make them unde sirable. Your well-dressed woman may have liought herself a lovely spring Jacket or a lieautiful spring cape, but ten to one she means to wear neither when the weather Is fair. There's not enough about these gar ments that is new to warrant their bid- iilllKK I'KO.M SI'KI.MJ'S SHOW PARADE. lug bodices that are In t!i latest, mode. True, koiiw of the new Ixidicew ' are ilNtltu-tly of jiieket cm, and with! th'"' the hugge.stlon of pulmonary dan-j ers Is not so strong, but more stand' for outright unprou-ct'on. Of the less strikingly exposed ort the flrst picture gives a good example. Its Jacket ex tended! six UuJit below the belt, lta brctelles, stock collar and rolling collar facing were plaid silk In warm thus, and altogether there was a look of out er Jacket warmth about It that really wasn't there. Made of grayish blue cloth. It wj! trimmed with black silk b-nld, shown, two braid ornaments 1c!ng all the trimming of the accom panying skirt. Home of the pretenses of coy.lness are downright fakes, but though jialpable thee expedients are accepted by wom en w ho do not want to wear an over garment, and who yet object to look- T HEY' HE FANCY BODICES, Ing too housegowsy for tho street. Ad justable revers and collars arc con structed to take away the unbroken lines of the figure and giro a protected look. With how little that U wrap-like tbU appearance can be accomplished, the first picture In the group of full length figures show. This gown waa a beautiful light-weight broadcloth in a delicate light gray, and the brotellea aud collar were white cloth, gray satin ribbon giving tbe trimming. Ko far as warmth goea, thia waa not different from'the ono across tha pic ture from It. Hut the other was frank ly unproec4Jve, and la fairly to bo as signed to another classification. It was dove-colored cloth a slmplo ruffla upon tbe skirt of gathered groan taffe ta, and a round bodice that waa plain ness Itself In all but Ita yoke. Thia was of tucked taffeta edged with a waador tng ruffla. This dress la a typa. la oth r model the yoke'a edge may bo aoal lopod or ilsaagfcd till It makes a ywda of frilling It takes to get around the bouav dary of a pretty girls yoke. And M may be. liniciid of tucked, crossed bj row of baby ribbon or with narrow frills of the same. Then, If tbe weares doesn't think them too common, she will add long ends to ber sash belt, bul with any or all tbee modifications th gown will be claed with this one. Though so much of her rig ! "lo"! dVuiur l!w.s, she will dun as nearly a picture hat as current style allow, and the loose silk liuiiig of ber skirt will match the yoke, yet she w ill pretend to beholders that the has on the slropiearl frock of her wardrot. If jacket there lie In the rig that Is t bid for stranger's Inspection, then M will tie of unconventional cut. Other wise, the wearer will be set down as either of delicate health, or as an ob server rather than an exhibitor. Th jacket shown In this sketch will draw attention, however. It was of moda whipcord, tbe skirt to match, tbe fold on rovers and skirt being white cloth. Having had your dress made with swagger Jacket, you will, as a mattes of course, be contemptuous of those who appear on the street unwrapped. With irade weeka over, Indool style will receive their due share of women's attention, and that la a larg share. Is the opinion of dressmaker who have been doing a great deal of schen Nig over dressy bodices. No won, der tht yoke bodice Is popular. Th fashion tabooed not so many year ago Is coming back, and we are won dering w hy we ever dlncarde-d anythtaj so attractive. The heavy part of thl bodice is cut out in the ne k, the out er material coming to the throat. II Is the notion to use a coarse grenadlns over allk, and to lay a thin net nndoi the grenadine where the flesh showa Then yoked bodices without thia sofJ of trlckluMM are abundant, and manj of them are very dressy. One Is showi here that was maile of shot pale gxeei and pink silk, gathered to a pretty yokl of pink silk. The shot silk was draws Into a belt of open-work black Jet Laid over black satin. This galloon border ed the yoke, trimmed the pink sleeves and edged the collar. There Is aa muck variety In the shape and constructloi of these jokes as there usually Is In i thoroughly fashionable dres acceav sory, an1 from different kinds of yoke the Idea passe to separate collars thai give yoke effect. A yery rich model ol this fort Is shown, the collar beinj Rena's;inee guipure over a black vet vet 1kh1! with tucked black silk Teat The next model of this pictured quar tet shows how much of the erstwhll "fancy" liodlce there Is In the current "dressy" bodice. This garment If quite as elaborate as anything produc- BUT CALL 'EM DRES8Y. ed In the days when dress-makers were vying with each other In making elab orate walats. It bad gray taffeta 11a tng, over this cream lace was drawn smoothly, and over this waa a bUUcs work of geranium telve on which were put some utterly Inconsequential steel buttons. Belt and basque taha were the same Telvet a lace frill at tha1 ids hid the ooenlns!. and a hn.. tw- dreased the throat Kleeves of uW grsy sua matched the skirt. Even cloth gets a thorough dressing ut W new bodices, aa tha loot of thia row shown. Here waa a coat-shaped bodice of admiral blue granite cloth, u basque, fronts and triple epaulettes bUrk TlTrt- Attached to tho fraoaj were upright revers faced with white satin, satin also atsaeaxhw la tha Medici collar. Vest aidsMok collar were whlu lace, llaed wttk waM Ok. osfyiight, law. ftefeejobsmtrat A l Ml s awf . . ' Tit I" ' '' "'