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FASHIONS OF TODAY IN PARIS.
TWO MORNING GOWNS.
Gown of spotted blue and white foulard, with white satin collar and sleeve trimming;. Guimpe and under
aleeves of white mull.
The second gown of white swiss, with red dots, is trimmed with lace and embroidered insertion. This last
forms the yoke and trimming of waist and shirt. Eat of white straw and tulle with red poppies and ribbon
girdle of red panne satin and red parasol.
Paris letter: The feeling for artistic
effects is very strong this season. So
etrong that a leading couturier is giv
ing the names of flowers or scene to
each of her creations, the dress being
built up to carry out the idea of Its
name.
This idea, of course. Is one that every
dressmaker cannot manage.
It Is used to a certain extent on even
ing frofks. For Instance, I noticed, the
other day, a gown in shaded chiffon
which gives the idea of a sunset sky
with cloudy effects. This is reached by
placing three or four varying shades of
chiffon, one above another, such as a
skirt or purplish chiffon, veiled with
a cloud of pink, above which Is an up
per veiling of pale blue. Such dresses
are usually freely trimmed with flowers
and are particularly pleasing to the eye,
as they give a hint of subtle suggestion
rather than an aggressively strong
-elor effect. One of these gowns Just
ready to be shipped to America was
like the lining of a seashell, the first
feklrt being of a bluish mauve, the sec
ond of ping and the ton at a watered
white monpsellne. The latter was gar
landed round the bottom of the skirt
with wreaths of pink ana" blue forget
. me-nots, above a flounce of blonde lace,
tha baby bodice having a prim bertha
of the flowers round the decolletage.
There was a sash of blue gauze round
the waist, knotted at the side, the ends
being passed through an empire wreath
of forget-me-nots half way down the
skirt and fringed with the same.
I illustrate the prettiest summer gown
I have seen recently,, which Is in white
Suisse with red dots. It Is trimmed
with lace and embroidered insertion,
which forms both yoke and trimming
of waist. The skirt Is trimmed with
rows at each side of the front width and
at the top of the circular flounce, the
lace forming half diamonds in the ruf
fle. The correct hat to be worn with
this costume Is of white straw and
tulle with red popples and ribbon. A
girdle of red satin is worn and a red
parasol carried.
A particularly pretty summer gown
which I also send you a sketch of Is in
white organdie. The waist Is made
with insertion crossing the full sleevea
trimmed with the game. The skirt la
composed of rows of Insertion to the
circular ruffle. At the bottom of the
ruffle are three small tucks, with thla
costume Is worn a white picture hat
trimmed with white chantilly and pink
roses.
Another striking original effect Is a
gown In blue batiste and lace, with lace
trimming on corsage and yoke of tucked
monpseline. The skirt is plain but very
full and trimmed with lace.
A pretty gown of figured lawn is
tastefully ornamented with small
squares of black velvet. The yoke Is of
tucked Persian lawn, a puff of which
Is let Into the sleeve. With this Is
worn a picture hat and embroidered
parasol is carried.
The perfection of the shirt waist
geems to have been accomplished this
eason. From the lace to the wash
blouse there Is a long stretch of charm
ing models to be considered.
The newcet Idea In the lace blouse Is
arrived at by a combination of luces,
nch, for Instance, as using Irish lace
with the cream Alencon, the former
arranged 1n motifs or bands In any
form that is becoming. Venetian and
Cluny laces with the Alencon nets are
also used as well as the Bruges lace,
employed with nets, and also the pretty
batiste embroideries and the filet laces.
The last Is shown on one of the pretti
est models I have Been. It Is made of
tucked silk for which net may be sub
stituted. The lace forms the yoke, the
girdle finish being drab colored and
decorated with niik bands cleverly
worked in lace.
Another pretty effect is made entirely
of ring spot net and there is a jacket
blouse of black mousseline, decorated
with a lace design covered with jet
spangles- The edge finish falls over a
frill of soft cream lace and the yoke Is
of transparent cream lace.
Another style of blouse which can be
varied in a number of useful ways Is
composed of squares of lace and batiste,
the latter tucked cross-wise from side
to side and corner to corner, with one
tuck to each line. Lace and embroider
ed squares may be used this way, the
back like the front. Any combination
one may fancy is admissible, but the
squares In smaller numbers, are a use
ful trimming, set In detached motifs in
any form desired.
Batiste blouses are made of squares
vet and blue ribbon French streamet
flannel united with blue velvet and blue
ribbon.
Among the accessories of the toilet
which should be mentioned is the fact
that at dinners here, and also recep
tions, lace mittens are very much worn
and the indications are that they will
be used freely with muslin and taffeta
frocks. It must be understood, how
ever, that only those in the finer laces,
such as Chantilly, are considered tha
tning. The fashion Is a quaint one and
permits of the display of an enormous
quantity of rings. In which Parlslennes
are just now rejoicing. Light suede
gloves are now also considered as
tmart.
In the way of cravats and ties this is
a very dainty season. Most of the cra
vats are of the stock kind, many being
In colored lawns of about eight Inches
in width, which are wound around the
throat, the ends being crossed behind,
then brought back and pinned across in
front, having lace inserted and bor
dered lappet ends. Some others are
narrower and passed but once around
BLUE BATISTE AND LACE.
This simple little model is tucked only on the waist,
cut very full and flaring and trimmed with lace.
The aklrt Is
of tucking alternating with a plain
square, In the centre of which appear
a small embroidered medallion, being
Joined together with bands spt on with
an open stitch,
A pretty black and white striped silk
waist made on the Gibson lines Is made
with trimming of folds of black satin
edged with blue folds which form a col
lar and sleeve. The hat Is of white
French straw, trimmed with black vel-
the neck, crossed simply under the chin
In front with the ends curiously cut
up into tabs and edged with Valencien
nes, thus forming a sort of Jabot.
These are exceptionally novel.
In 1S45 there wero no female and
child laborers In the marble Industry
of France. Today they constitute 24
percent, of the force.
The season hns not been favorahlfc
for the shirtwaist. T'lth frot In Rns
la and hades In the West Indies, tho
world's most picturesque fad will hnrd
!y play a peimnnent engagement before
the Fourth of July.
Of course, all these pictures of Pelee
In eruption were made by artists who
wore on the ground. If the public wag
not assured of this fact It might mis
take some of the valley scene for an
ordinary calf lot.
Jive wireless telegraph companies
are com eating for tba government work
toAlMka. Marconi U not tha only one.
Arnold TCoecklln complains that Oer
mnn art dealers are buying up In Paris
tho sins of his youth Hnd offering them
as his latest paintings. He Is also dis
pleased because, at exhibitions, his pic
tures are placed in a different light
wrom that which he Intended. On one
occasion his violet-black clouds were
thus made to look blue, to every one's
amaxement.
Selator Stewart of Nevada was talk
ing on the Philippines bill. "You folks
waste a lot of sympathy on Nevada,"
he said. "Don't do It. Nevada has
money, and I say to you, Mr. President,
that when you hare money yon don't
need sympathy."
Prof. Le Baron Russell Rrlggs, famil
iar to recent classes of students as"Dean
Brlggs," and beloved by them for his
Just and courteous treatment, became
dean of the faculty of arts and sciences
of Harvard university, replacing Prof.
Clement Mwrence Smith In that office.
Assistant Professor Hurlbut. recording
secretary, Is promoted to be dean of
Harvard college, Both Dean Briggs
and Dean Hurlbut will assume the
duties of their new offices at the end of
the present college year.
The famines In the Interior of Ruslsa
are coincident with a decline In the
humidity, due In great measure to the
destruction of forest.
' 3rtzz
A BOMANCE OF MANY LIVES' HEROES.
BY ERNEST DE LANCEY PIERSON.
Author "A Slave of Curcumstances," "A Bargain in Souls," "The Black
Bail," "The Cruel CRy." "A Woman's Will," "At the World's Mercy,"
"The Scarlet Cypher, "The Secret of the Marionettes." Ac.
(Copyright, 1902, by De Lancey Pierson)
CHAPTER VI.
"By the way," said Hendricks, after
a moment's pause, In which each man
covertly regarded the other, "where is
your daughcr now?"
"Eh? what's that?" The question
seemed to surprise the banker. Hen
dricks frowned and his red fingers beat
a tattoo on the arm of the chair, while
he looked the other firmly In the face.
"As the guardian, or rather trustee,
of the affairs of her father, Martin
Frale, it is not strange that I should
like to see the young lady."
"But, surely, man, you are not "
"No, I am not going to toll her that
her father was driven to crime in an
effort to save her mother's life. But if
Frala Is living it would be a comfort to
him if I might carry him the good news
of her welfare. You know that even a
man who has been years in prison has
not lost all fatherly feeling.
"Well, but Martin Frale is dead."
"Granting that he is. It might be
that I was instructed to see her, and,
being a man of my word, would nat
urally wish to carry out the agree
ment" Ellison was silent. During an exper
ience not brief with men he had never
met with such a human enigma. Who
was this man? At least, he knew much
and was amiable and might be easily
managed If treated with kindness and
consideration.
"Then you promise that if I tell you
where the daughter Is" he did not
have the courage to say "my daughter,"
In face of the facts presented "you
will be silent respecting her origin?"
"I am listening."
"Can I trust you?"
For a moment the face of Hendricks
relaxed and he smiled.
"It seems to me that just now we
have reasons to trust and yet distrust
the other. One will safeguard the oth
er. You need, however, have no fear
that she- will ever learn whose daugh
ter she really is. I know that you can
mean no harm, and that she is safe.
Rut I should like to see her for rea
sons it la not necessary for me to state."
"Very well. After the terrible affair
of the other night, I thought it be;t to
have her removed to the home of her
old nurse."
"And where might that be?" and tho
question came as if Hendricks was deal
ing in court with a recalcitrant wit
ness. ' The nurse Is housekeeper for the one
lawyer that this town affords, named
Jared Henslow."
"Henslow?" the other repeated, rub
bing his forehead.
"What, you know him?"
"How should I know him? But the
name Is familiar. I once knew a man
of that name."
"Well, she is there."
Hendricks rose and stood for a mo
ment looking down on the floor with
a strange expression on his face.
"For this laat information I thank
you. As the friend of Martin Frale, of
course, I have no doubt that she has
led a happy life all these years."
"She has been brought up as the
daughter of a rich man should be," re
plied Ellison, theatrically. Then, re
membering that he was not addressing
an ordinary visitor, he continued: "I
am quite sure that If Martin Frale was
living he would never have regretted
having trusted his daughter to my care.
What, after all, does It matter if some
trickery were used in the matter to re
tain the fortune in the family, Instead
of allowing it to be scattered among a
dozen perhaps worthless relatives of
my wife? Martin Frale's daughter
must have gone to an asylum as a
child and never known what happiness
meant but for this lrange circum
stance in her life. She has been care
fully reared, has enjoyed everything
that money could purchase. Could
Martin Frale, were he living today, wish
her differently off? Would he attempt
to drag her down to his own level
again? Would he take her from the
luxury In which she has been bred to a
different life one of possible misery?
"As the spokesman of Martin Frale,
I believe that he would do nothing of
the kind," said Hendricks In a low
voice. She would hardly love her old
futher with the brand of shame upon
him the father she never knew. She
would not be a woman to care to change
her lot for the sake of carrying possible
comfort to the declining years of an
old convict."
Job Hendricks at this Juncture
seemed to be particularly interested in
a picture on tho library walls, for he
turned his back on his companion anil
said, after a pause: "Ah. you are well
provided here. I should like to feel
that I was going to be so comfortably
lodged for the rest of my life,"
"You are not in very prosperous cir
cumstances, then, Hendricks?" ventured
Ellison, who thought he saw the way
now to onVr a bribe which his guest
had rejected with such acorn a short
time before.
Joe Hendricks turned about and
ptumped down In a chair again.
"I dare say I am as prosperous as t
doserve," he said. "My wants are few
tnd I am getting on In years. A man
Jon't need much when he baa reached
my age."
"Still there are eomforta that might
eak life eaaler."
"I know what vou are thinking about,
but oblige me by not approaching the
subject again."
The banker was silent.
"Tell me," said Hendricks, after a
panso, "are there no clews that would
point to the fact that some other per
son must have committed the crime,
rather than young Barnett?"
"Nothing as yet," replied Ellison, as
if weary of the Bubject. "Of course, as
I told you, I am interested in setting
the young man free, and so at the first
opportunity I sent to New York to
bring down an expert detective to take
charge of the case. The police are do
ing something, of course, but I thought
I might do a little independently."
"And what is the result?"
"Nothing as yet. He only arrived
yesterday afternoon, and has spent the
time since in interrogating the ser
vants." "Well, I should not wonder if I took
a hand in the matter myself if all else
failed."
"What, you?"
"Yes, why not?" replied Hendricks,
calmly. "I am interested, as I tell you,
in this young man's affairs and anx
to get him free. Sometimes you know
an amateur is able to do more than
the argus-eyed professional, for he
brings originality and fresh ideas to
bear on the subject. These moss-covered
bureaucrats go plodding along in
the same rut year by year."
"Then you have engaged in such
business before?" and Ellison, who had
never ceased to wonder what manner
of man he had to deal with, cast a
searching look at his companion.
"Perhaps," and Hendricks smiled.
"Come, why should you want to know
so much about a poor stranger. If
Martin Frale was standing before you
I suppose you could sift him heart and
soul in a moment."
"I don't see why you keep referring
to that unfortunate man," said Ellison
with a grimace. "Let the past bury her
dead. He was an Ignorant man, a poor
miserable fellow who is well out of the
way. He did one good thing and that
was to trust his daughter to my care,
for which he received a good sum in
return, You may be a friend of his,
and so naturally refer to him now and
then, but you will oblige me by not
meiiuumiig nun again.
"Certainly," In a low voice, "and yet
you ought to have a certain feeling for
him since you have adopted one of his
blood."
"Time has changed all that. She
would never be taken after all these
years of culture as one of the wolf's
breed."
"You are disposed to be compliment
ary. You might speak well of a man
whom you were once not afraid to ack
nowledge as a friend," said Hendricks.
"If. we both started in the mire, and
I was fortunate enough to rise from it,
is there any reason why I should not
have a longing to forget the past and
everything connected with It?"
"A noble, a commendable desire" re
plied tho other. "I will wish you good
day," and he moved to the door. "I
think you will do all you can to help
Barnett I know you will," and before
the other could frame an answer he
had opened the door and gone out.
Ellison sat watching the door In a
dazed sort of condition, as if he half
expected him to appear again, but
Hendricks did not appear. The?, after
a moment's hesitation, he rushed out
Into the hall, crossed it and passing
through a narrow passage and then a
dressing room reached the windows
that opened on the park in front of the
houfe.
He saw Hendricks pass through the
front door and walk with a lazy air
down toe main avenue that led to the
gates. Not once did he stop to look
back at the hotiw that he had juwt
left.
Ellison, who was watching, saw him
disappear beyond the lodgekeeper's
gate and returned to the llbrsry, shak
ing his head and muttering to him
self. As he entered the room he started
back In dlHmay at the sight of a strange
man In tattered clothes who was seated
at the desk he had Just left, and was
puffing on a cigar that he had evidently
extracted from one of the drawers.
James Ellison slammed the door be
hind him with an angry gesture, which
did not In the least seem to disconcert
the Hhabby individual with the cigar.
"I wish you wouldn't make such a
noise, Jimmy," remarked the latter as
ho blew a smoke wreath into the air
and watched It fade away. Ellison
stepped forward and pushed him Into a
sitting position, his every gesture be
traying the anger he felt.
The shabby man shook off the grasp,
made a pretence to brush his dirty
sleeve, and, looking up calmly as he
drew a long puff on his cigar, said with
an air of blase wtarlness:
"I wish, my dear fellow, you would
not he so rude when you meet a man.
Really, I expected kinder treatment
from one I have learned so long to
love."
Ellison uttered an oath, turned away,
walked up and down the room several
times and then, pausing before the
ragged Individual, who was Insnoctlng
his cigar with a critical Interest, said:
"Could you not tell, you fool, when I
warned you from the window that you
were not to be seen around here?"
The other waited till he had shaken
the ashes from his cigar and then r4
plied in a very mild voice: j
' Really, my dear brother, you are
getting to speak very harsh in yonr
old age. Why should I be warned off,
the premises by a wave of the hand, a
if I was under a commanding officer?"'
"You will do what I tell you," cried
Jp.mes Ellison. "I did not ven know
that you were in the neighborhood.
Now if you want money, you shall have
It." and as he spoke he drew a roli of,
bills out of his pocket.
The othor laughed hoarsely and
waved him aside. Later will do. What
are you so worried about, anyway?
Have I asked for anything yet?"
"No, not yet; but I thought I would
forestall you. Now, oblige me by
keeping out of sight for a time, I
have troubles enough of my own, aa
you must know if you have been in the)
neighborhood for many days."
"Well, you shall have it"
"You are ready to agree to anything1,
My man, you seem to be in a peck at
trouble," as he noticed that his brother
was pacing up and down the room.
James Ellison can-o over and laid hla
hand on the other's shoulder.
"Trouble enough. I have reason to
believe that Frale is still living. He,
was hore but an hour ago, or one who
resembles him."
The brother sank back in his chair
and uttered a long-drawn whistle, aa
he cast away his cigar.
"Come, this matter is serious," look
ing up. "And where might this person
have gone?"
"I told him where Grace was now liv
ing. It seems that be was very anxious
to see her."
"You should have told him nothing."
James Ellison laughed.
"When you meet a stranger who In
forms you of a great secret of your life
I suppose you would advise me to 6how
him tne door. If not Frale himself (and
he speaks like an educated man, while
the other was unlearned), at least ho
knows enough to give me a great deal
of trouble. But why am I wasting all
this time on you?" as he seemed to
notice for the first time his brother's
rags. "Go your own way and I will go
mine."
The ragged man arose and twisted
his mustache with a dainty air.
"My brother, you have said that once
before," and then, bending over the
table that stood between them and
shaking a soiled finger in Ellison's face,
he said, "You are very haughty now,
but I believe that we shall both go down
together, and now to make myself
beautiful in a suit of your clothes,"
and he opened a door and passed
through, while his brother dropped in
to a chair, overcome with impotent
rage.
(To be continued.)
AIT IRISH SHOWER, BATH.
Experience of a Lady Visitor to a
Little Seaside Town.
T. P. O'Connor in London M. A. P.:
I recently heard a good Story in the
west of Ireland. It concerns the rising
little seaside town of Lahlnch, a place
which has recently developed tremen
dously through the , tourist and golf
booms. A few years ago the public
baths, like most other institutions in
the village, were very primitive. They
were situated in a little cottage, which,
was Just above the high-water mark.
Shower baths were a specialty, and they
were to be had in a room which had a
bathtub placed in the middle of the
floor. On pulling a string a perfect
deluge of bracing sea water came
through the celling.
A iady visitor once stood ready in the
tub and gave the dread signal. But in
stead of the usual avalanche of green
water there came from aloft the gruff
voice of the fisherman-proprietor of
the baths. "If ye'll move a taste more
to the wesht, ma'am." said the voice,
"ye'll get the full benefit of the shower."
Looking up, she, to her horror, descried
the old fisherman standing by an aper
ture in the ceiling and holding a barrel
of sea water ready for the douchet
Whether the lady moved to the west
and received the shower or not, the
chronicler does not relate. But Lahinch
has made giant strides since."
Too Smart for His Papa.
The 12-year-old son of a Topeka
(Kan.) fond parent recently became the
proud possessor of some guinea pigs.
A day or two after they were safely cor
ralled in a cage he went about brag
ging of his new acquisition among his
playmdtos. Now, it seems, these
youngsters knew of a "sell" in which
guinea pigs play a prominent part.
They started to "hook" the youngster,
and they caught him hard and fast.
He felt so badly about it that he
started to "sell" some one else. His
father was the victim.
"Do you know, papa, if you hold a
guinea pig by the tall that iU eyes will
drop out?" i
His father laughed outright.
"Why who in the world told you such
stuff as that, Louis?"
"The boys all Bay that," answered
Louis, sober as a Judge, "and It's so;
yes, sir."
"Oh, nonsense," said the father, still
laughing.
"Well, you go to the cage and hold
one up, and you'll see."
Just to humor the boy, the father
went out In a moment bo came back,
looking well, looking Just like a man
who has been badly sold.
"The little rascal got me that time,"
he remarked to a friend.
"But I don't see the point," said tho
friend.
"Don't you?"
No."
"Well, guinea pig have no tails."
Thrifty Foreigners.
Nothing more beautifully Illustrates
the small thrift of foreigners than
tho malls. For Instance: While we
write for transmission abroad over
73.000,000 letters a year we receive
only 59,000,000. While of unpaid and
short-paid letters we send 1,369,762.
the foreigners afflict us with 2,105,
552, on which wo are obliged to pay
postage. While wo send abroad 49,
107 postal cards with paid reply.
they send only 27.713. We write more
single cards than they do, beating
them nearly three-quarters of a mil
lion In a lotal of 7,800.000. in short
postage they Impose on us annually to
the sum of about 1300,000. For send
ing and receiving this mail our env-
ernment pays f2.250.000 a year.
The death Is announced of Major (
eral Pewtoff , known for his expiorattesj
la central Asia, Mongolia and Talk,
i
AY
i
.A .
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