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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (June 14, 1906)
PAHUP® ©FT" W YODK o nr f 5t.GEOUCE^ § B4JHB0PC >9 ■AC’T/iOi’QT I M tXfcZST^OfV •I ^SS3Kif I AMxar sj 2iP^4rAr^rc CHAPTER XVIII.—Continued. He begins to experience a feeling that up to this time has been foreign to his nature—fear becomes a factor In the game. What if this American downs him before all these people— will Barcelona, the pride of all Mex ico, the hero of a hundred victories in the arena, ever dare to lift his head in public again? He would give years of his life for a chance to beat this accursed gringo to a jelly in the presence of the peo ple. How fiercely he would send those powerful fists of his into that face which mocks him now with a smile—he would mar the good looks of the other forever. Back and forward they push, cau tiously sparring, and each watching for his chance, though every unedu cated eye can see that Barcelona's only hope lies in a sudden coup de grace, by means of which he will fin ish his antagonist. Dick does not desire to prolong the affair beyond a reasonable time—be has already done what he wishes with the bullfighter—held him up to the Tidicule of the people. The oppor tunity presents itself, which he instant ly s€!»*-s—those who watch him see him make a feint which dazzles Bar celona, who attempts to parry it, when from quite another quarter comes a thundering blow that strikes him on the side of the head: It is a knockout, a quietus. The Mexican king of the bull-ring goes reeling back in a most undigni fied manner, finally falling in a heap near the edge of the platform. He moves not—insensibility has doubt less resulted from the American's blow. Dick has kept himself ready, and had the other gained his feet and at tempted to draw a weapon he would have found himself confronted by a revolver that meant business. “Gentlemen,” cries the American, in Spanish, “you see victory has de clared for the lady. You are chival rous, you will wish her success in dealing with these scoundrels who would cheat her out of her birthright. Yes, you will escort us as a guard of honor to the Hotel Iturbe. so that the friends of yonder groaning bullfighter may do no harm. Am I right?” He has struck the popular fancy, and is the idol of the hour—a shout arises, and our friends find them selves convoyed to the caravansary in triumph by at least two-score of Mex icans. who cheer the American senor, the ladies, and Colonel Bob. until all are safe under the friendly roof of the hotel, when the excitement dies away. Our friends are then left to obtain what rest they can after the exciting episode of the night, and in contem plation of what lies before them, for on the following day they leave the comforts of the city, and start upon the dangerous road that leads to the mines. CHAPTER XIX. On the Road to the Mine. Pick is awakened on the following morning by the strange cry of a vege table vender shouting his wares along the street. It is early, but there is much to be done, so he hurries out and begins the labor of the day. Miss Pauline has left everything in his charge, and when the caravan finally reaches a point of readiness, about half-past ten, it is as complete an anair as couia wen De imagined. Every man is well mounted and armed, bronchos carry tents and stores, and there are riding horses for Miss Pauline and Dora, strong, gentle .beasts, capable of doing much work. Had Miss Westerly the selection of her mount she might have purchased an animal with more spirit In him, for she is a natural horsewoman, and nev er more pleased than when breaking in a steed inclined to be vicious. She even gives Dick a reproachful look when shdwn her steed. That worthy hastens to prove hoi? wisely he has chosen—their course lies only now and then through valleys or over plains—as a general thing it is up the rugged sides of mountains and over the roughest of country. Miss Pauline sees the point, and laughingly declares her confidence in his wise forethought—his practical experience in this line ought to be of great benefit to them all. So they leave the city about an hour before noon—a small crowd to see them off, and quite a number cheer the American senor who afforded them such rare sport on the previous night. About the same time another expe dition is getting ready in a hurry— of course it is Lopez and his adher ents, also bound for El Dorado. WThat ■was begun on the Alameda may yet be concluded at the mine, for the plotting Mexican has men there who are under his ihumb, and who will obey his beck and nod. Dick halts his caravan some miles outside the city for dinner. They are still in the beautiful valley of Los Remedios, though heading up in the direction of a gap which leads in the direction of the far-away mines. Looking back, they can see the tow ers and domes of the capital, on the right perched upon a hill is the sanc tuary, Chapultepec on the left, and the towns of San Angelo and Tacu baya. Farther down is the Church of San Esteban and the famous tree of Noche Triste, under which Cortez is said to have wept on the night of his disastrous retreat from the City of Mexico, July 1st, 1520. In plain view are also the cones of the several volcanoes, their snow capped tops standing out against the sky, and looking intensely weird in ■this tropical country which has never known such a thing as frost. When dinner has been eaten, the course is resumed, and quite a num ber of miles placed behind them ere (COfrzXZTT.jgg?' &jrSZBE27C2ZrZB3 the sun. reaching the horizon ahead, warns them that it is time to go into camp. Not a trace of civilization remains— they are surrounded by what is per haps the grandest and wildest scen ery on the whole American continent; great masses tower above them, while below is a defile hundreds of feet in depth. A camping place is near, and they hasten to reach it; then the tents are hastily thrown up, fires made, the horses corraled, and all preparations made for spending the first night out. Dick studies his men. Some are j strangers to him, although probably j recommended by ethers, and he de sires to know them as well as possi ble, so that in time of trouble he will be able to station them so as to get the best work done. All seems merry enough; provisions are plenty, the fire cheerful, and more than one man sings a popular song, picked up. it might be, on the great Mississippi, the ocean, or some for eign land. Then a request is respectfully made that the ladies sing. Dick bears it i himself from the men. They are j Americans in a foreign land, and Pau line is at last induced to gratify their desires. Then the mighty hills and gulches echo, probably for the first time since | they were created, with a woman's song. Pauline gives them numerous selections, just as they came to her mind, but the one that takes them by storm, and which is repeated by re quest, is the ballad “Comrades," which was just having its run in London and Paris at the time our friends left France for Mexico, and which Dick joins in rendering. Later on some of the voyagers sling hammocks; indeed most of them dread sleeping on the ground in ; this country, where snakes of a pois- j onous nature, tarantulas, centipedes, and the like, roam about. Dick had posted hi;; guards, and on this night it is easy enough to man ipulate matters, since on one side of their camp the trail runs along what is really a shelf of Tock, where one man can protect them from a surprise. No precaution is neglected; they have too great an interest at stake for that. The hour grows later and the ine’s question, and noticing the look of surprise she gives him he laughs lightly as be says; “1 had uoped you would not hear the name mentioned—Huggins was in discreet to speak of it in your pres ence. As you suppose, there is a grue some story connected with this weird, uncanny looking, gloomy vale.” Miss Westerly turns her eyes upon Dick, nods a little, and smiles. That is enough—although he does so under protest, Dick is compelled to obey. “Well, the truth of the matter is, years ago, when the El Dorado was in the Lopez family, and yielding more than any mine in Mexico at the time, a party heading toward the capi tal with a relay of mules, laden with the richest ore, almost pure metal, was surprised in this valley by the desperate bandits wtc abounded at that time, and though they fought bravely they perished.” “All?’’ gasps the interested Dora. “Ever}’ living soul of that band, save a boy who had secreted himseif in the sage bushes, and who saw the whole dreadful carnage. I heard the story from his lips—he was a white bearded man when he told It, but I could see him shuddet as if again he saw in imagination every detail of the awful massacre. Enough—let us talk of something more cheerful. You know now why the Mexicans call it the Death Valley.” Dick sees the ladies to their tent— then he goes in quest of Colonel Bob, whom he finds smoking a villainous Mexican cigar, which he takes from his mouth with every puff and exam ines with a glance that is solicitous, even while it speaks of intense dis appointment Dick can read his comrade like a book, and he knows the man from New Mexico has something weighty on his mind. “Look here, Bob. you’re up to your old tricks.” “Eh?” exclaims the other, as Dick’s hand comes down upon his shoulder. “Net a bit. old man. I’ve just been waiting until all was quiet and the ladies had retired. I knew, as cer tain as two and two make four, that you’d be after me for a consultation, and then I meant to tell you what I knew.” “I understand,” says the other, quietly; “they will attack us to-night— Senor Lopez and his gang of disrepu table characters. One thing is cer tain—the City of Mexico was never so clean as now, since I.cpez has carried away every rascal whom a few pesos or reals could bribe into a crime." “Yes, they're coming to-night—sev eral things tell me so; among others •“Explodes with a Flash and Boar.” fires die down; the breeze rustling the leaves, or perhaps a cry from some wild beast in the ragged defiles of the mountains, is the cnly sound that comes to the ears of the guards, who, at a specified hour. a~e changed. The night passes without an alarm, and when morning comes Dick is pleased to hear Miss Pauline declare she slept well upon the cot prepared for Dora and herself in one of the tents. After an early breakfast they start forward, as the cay promises to be a hot one, and they will want to rest several hours—between twelve and three. Animated nature is seen around them, plenty of gay plumaged birds, some deer, and even a bear is sighted across a barranca. So they go along, making good prog ress all the while, an? plunging deep er and deeper into the wilderness. With nature so love;y and prospects so bright, with those they adore in their company sixteen hours out of each day, is it any winder the two comrades are happy? True, they never forget that danger hovers over them—that one of the most remarkable schemers is pitted against them, and that even while they sleep he is endeavoring to weave his spider’s web about them. Eternal vigilance is the price of safety, and they do not mean to be caught napping. Thus three days pass—they have met one mule train coming from the mine laden with pure ingots of the precious metal, for the El Dorado is now equip ped with crushing machinery, the most modern stamp mill, and all that the best mines of Colorado could boast of. This train of pack mules has a convoy of soldiers, who have been actually hired by the owners of the mine to protect their treasures en route. Think of hiring out soldiers for such a purpose! “We are nearly there,” says Dick, when they make camp the third night, “by noon to-morrow we will be at the mine.” It happens that on this night their camp is pitched in the valley. A queer formation rises in the middle of it, and upon this they have hit as the place to rest. Tents are raised, fires lighted as usual, some of the escort fish in the stream with good success, while others, who are hunters by na ture, wander off to see what game they can scare up. "I am told this is called the Valley los Muertas—the Vie of Death—do you know where it received the name?” aBks Pauline, after they have had supper, and while they alt about the fire, a cheery blaze that does much to dispel the darkness. Dick Denver frowns a trifle at Paul the fact that just when we came to this spot and all were busily engaged preparing for the night. 1 happened to cast a glance backward, and at the point where the train passes up the defile and over the mountain I had a glimpse of several mounted men. There was no question in my mind as to their identity, for I was expecting them.” ‘‘Those words mean something. Why do you believe we are to be at tacked to-night?” pursues Dick, who would make a good lawyer, he is so quick to seize upon a point. “My informant is Tampa Garcia, one of the two Mexicans we have in our train. He is a first class plains man, but has been rather wild in his day, so that Lopez believed he would join them. Tampa tcok his money and was in doubt what to do. The songs of Miss Pauline have driven the bad devil out of his heart—he says she made him think of his earlier days, of one who is with the angels now. He threw the tenor's gold into the river we passed yesterday, and to-day resolved to confess all to me.” “This is good luck," remarks Dick. “So, you see, it was resolved before we left the city to attack our camp in Death Valley. Forewarned is fore armed, and we'll see that the yellow boys are warmly received. To-night they will be taught a lesson never to be forgotten—to-night old Mexico will learn what Yankee guns, backed by Yankee arms, can do.” Bob is not boar.-jng—he means every word he says, and the time will soon come when the proof must be at hand. “You had an object in not telling me before?” “Yes—I didn’t want to alarm the ladies—perhaps it wc-uld have been better, though, to have let them know. You see where I put their tent —not a stray bullet can strike it.” “I admire your selection of the ground. Bob—it couldn’t be bettered. But we have work to do—the men must be warned, and our defenses im proved.” “That is so—we don’t want to be caught napping. Come, we will be at it.” (To Be Continued.) -.— “Will Return Early.” Mr. Rounder (tenderly)—Do you re member, dear, during out courting days how I used to tell you the ‘old old story?’ Mrs. Rounder—Yes, and you still tell me the ‘old, old story.' Mr. Rounder (in surprise)—WheiT dear?’ Mrs. Rounder—When you start for the club.—Chicago Dallv Plum INSECTS ANTS ABE NOT SO WISE AS THEY ABE CLEAN. Solomon's Advice to the Sluggard Is Disparaged by German Scien tist—facts of In terest. According to Dr. Escherich, a learned entomologist of Strasburg uni versity, Solomon erred in commend ing the ant to the sluggard as a shin ing example of wisdom and industry. The German savant thinks Solomon would have better justified his claim to be regarded as the wisest man that ever lived had he exolled the ant as an exponent of cleanliness. He has just published the results of an ex haustive study of these wonderful in sects. He combats the views of those investigators who assign to them al most human intelligence. But as ex ponents of that virtue which stands next to godliness he maintains that ants stand preeminent, and if the hu man race would pattern after them in this respect haif the diseases on which doctors thrive would vanish. Ants, he declares, abhor dirt in any form about their bodies. Nature has provided them with implements that serve the same purpose as combs and brushes in the bands of civilized folk, and they make far more effective use of them. They are never too busy to clean themselves. No job is so im portant to an ant that he won’t knock off work to clean himself. He does not wait until his day's labors are fin ished to perform his ablutions. He is never too tired to lend another ant a hand—or, rather, a leg—to effect a thorough scouring. He will toledate loafing occasionally, for the profes sor asserts it is a mistake to suppose that ants are everlastingly bunting up jobs, but he won’t put up with dirty neighbors. Cleanliness is the supreme law of the community. But the professor rather detracts from the credit one would otherwise be disposed to give them for the prac tice of this most exemplar}- virtue by telling us that ants are driven to it by the conditions of their existence. ‘‘Without the most scrupulous cleanli ness,” he says, “they could not recog nize each other nor communicate anything. The cohesion of the indi vidual with its fellows is maintained solely through the medium of the sense of smell. If the ant is covered with dust the possibility of its being recognized is diminished to an extra ordinary degree. The antennae in particular must always be kept clean, for it is only with their aid that the ant remains in close communication with its tribe.” It is their highly developed sense of cleanliness, the prolessor says, which also explains the ants’ "funerals” about which so much has been writ ten. Ants, it is well known, carry their dead to definite burial places, where they arrange them in most careful order. “The little creatures j do not. however, do this with the ob ject of providing their dead comrades with the last resting place.” Dr. Es cherich states; “they merely obey the instinct of cleanliness which im pels them to remove all refuse from the nest and carry it away to a defi nite spot.” ENTIRE CANON FOR CHURCH Religious Rights and Observances of the Hopi Indians of Grand Canon. The Paradise or Spirit House of the Hopi is in Grand Canon, and there is sent, during certain important cers monies, a messenger priest who makes a votive deposit in the shrine erected there, tenders a prayer offering of sa cred cornmeai to the rising sun and carries back with him certain waters and herbs for use in further rites, writes Louis Akin, in the Craftsman. Shrines are everywhere in the vicini ty of Hopi towns. Some are shrines to distant mountains, rivers, the ocean, some to prehistoric or tradi tional homes of ancestors or clans, and in nearly every field is some man ner of shrine in which to deposit es pecial prayer offerings prepared by the priests for the purpose, which the fortunate ones proudly carry to the fields with perfect confidence in their efficacy. The indoor religious cere monies are held in underground chambers known as kivas, of which there are 14 in Oraibi. Each man be longs to some one of the fraternities occupying these kivas. ANOTHER VIEW. The Sun Fish (to the bass)—Sorry, old man, it’s against the law for you to bite so early in the season. These angle worms are certainly delicious. Keeping from Close Bange. "Why are you not at school?” stern ly inquired the parent, meeting his son in the street The lad was not much embarrassed. "Fact is, dad,” he responded. There’s something the matter with the teacher’s temper, and I’m giving it absent treatment!”—Modern So ciety. NO TWO HATS EVER ALIKE Made 1-y Machinery or by Hand There Is Sure to Be a Difference. There are no two things alike In this world—no two atoms alike, no two blades of grass alike, no two peas alike, no two faces alike, won derful—most -vonderful of all—no two ladies' hats alike! Has this thought ever been impressed upon you while sitting in an assemblage of women? Oh. the wisdom and forethought of nature, for were each woman to have a hat similar to her neighbor’s what an infinite variety of additional woes and heartaches and tears the human race would have had to bear! And, yet, Mathew Softleigh, born and bred in New York, says the Sun, knew naught of this. His tender brain could not conceive the fact that every thing in this world is infinite in its revolutions and ramifications, partic ularly ladies’ hats, so Matthew backed his poor judgment with real money and made a wager with his friend Silas Cute, that he would soon find him two hats that were alike. Matthew and Silas selected a warm spring day and they walked up and down the great White Way, they promenaded Fifth avenue, they visit ed the parks, they strolled to the east side, the west side and every other side, they visited the theaters, the concert halls, the churches; from day to day the quest continued until both were weary and footsore. They saw Gainsboroughs, picture hats, sailors, hats of straw, hats of felt, hats with ribbons, hats with feathers, hats with aigrettes, but no two hats alike. They saw dreams of red and blue and green, as well as nightmares and incubi of Arabian Night’s phantasy. There was poetry and prose, music and flowers typified in every one, but no two alike! What ingenuity they repre sented, what ceaseless brain activity, what thought, what feeling, what deli cacy in some, which if put into a poem or a symphony would earn him or her a place in the Hall of Fame! Matthew lost his bet. and it is well that he did. There should be no two hats alike, there are no two hats alike and there never will be two hats alike. Nature, like woman, is feminine; she has a variety of moods; of expression, of beauty, of color, of form and figure, and a woman’s hat is the embodiment, the epitome of hei every thought, her every wish, hei every desire. Not one woman is like another; neither can her hat be. And when the time comes that two hats are found alike then will genius have reached its limit and the world will have lost all its beauty and all that makes life worth living. IT HAPPENED IN JERSEY There Was One Man Who Didn’t Know About the San Francisco * Earthquake. Not all the world knew of the San Francisco earthquake. Within the range of vision one has from the top of the Fiatiron building there was dis covered the other day complete igno rance of the calamity, says the New York Sun. The discovery came as a joke tc some literary folk who live the sim ple but busy life in a cottage among the New Jersey hills an hour’s ride from New York. With the rural free delivery bringing the city paper on the day of issue they keep in touch with the outer world, and it was only the morning after it occurred that they learned of the earthquake and fire. The nearest habitation to the cot tage is a farmhouse whence daily vis its are made for the purchase of milk. During the visit of Wednesday, the day of the earthquake, none of the farmer’s family, all gossips of the usual bucolic type, mentioned San Francisco at all. On Thursday night, the visitor, while waiting for the milk pail to be filled, remarked, apropos of a threatening sky, that she hoped there might be rain in San Francisco, too. w ny, asKed the farmer, don t they have rain out there.'” Amazed that anyone should not’ know about it, the visitor told in a rush of excited words of the blow that had fallen on the Pacific coast city. The farmer stopped milking to listen open mouthed. “Durned if I heerd a word about it,” he drawled, when the visitor conclud ed. "You see, I hain't been daown to the village sense Monday, an’ don’t do much readin’ here. The Boonville pa per comes every week, but Samanthv’s eyes hez been so bad lately guess she hadn’t read the last copy.” The next evening the visitor brought, besides the milk pail, a bundle of New York papers. “Now,” she said to the farmer’s wife, “you can read all about the earth quake in San Francisco.” “Land's sake!” cried Samantha, “was it San Francisco? Silas said it was Cincinnati.” Compliment for English. Chinese Commissioner Shang Chi Heng before leaving England for France recently paid the British quite a compliment in a farewell interview. He said: “What has chiefly impressed me is the dignity and solidity of your nation. There is a compactness of spirit and conservatism which in spite of any political differences keeps the race well together. You remind me oi the Chinese in this respect.” Detective Story. ■With unerring accuracy he fastened the crime on the beautiful woman. “Aha!” he cried, as he wiped hif brow and closed the last loophole. For then did Jones thankfully real; ize that he had his wife's waist but toned all the way up the back.—N. Y Sun. Varying Conditions. “What sort of a man is Jinks?” “The impression you get of Jinks depends on the circumstances under which you mee- him. If you’re there to collect money, you won't like him, but if you’re there to pay money he seems a lovely character.”—Washing ton Star. Preliminary Profit. Mrs. Glub-dub—Did your daughter marry well? Mrs. Flim-Flam—Yes, indeed; she had a trip all over Europe before the divorce.—Life. SPREAD AND PICNIC SCHOOLGIRL SHOULD KNOW HOW TO SERVE DAINTILY. Schoolgirls Can Cook as Well as Ca terers—Hew to Make a Sandwich a Work of Art — Old-Fashioned Cookies Are a Toothsome Relish— Be Good Tempered When on a Picnic; One Cross Person Can Spoil the General Pleasure — Arrange Every Detail Beforehand—A Picnic Where the Lunch Was Left Be hind. BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER. (Copyright, 1906, by Joseph B. Bowles.) 1 wonder if you girls read Husain? Of course you know that John Rus kin was a great critic and essayist, the close friend of several great art ists and as well the friend and cham pion of working men. Besides all this Mr. Ruskin wrote books which are models of good and beautiful English, so that no class in English literature can afford to neglect a study of his graceful and vigorous style. In one of his books, Sesame and Lilies, Mr. Ruskin devotes a good deal of atten tion to young girls and gives them in his charming way no little excellent advice. He rays among other things that a girl's work, her mission in life, is to piease people and to feed them in dainty ways. You are pretty sure to please people 1- you set before them the things they like to eat served in a manner that tempts appetite. No young girl can be considered well educated who does not know how to cook. I have been told that cooks are born and not made, but I do not beneve a bit of it. Any girl with a clever brain ani two hands may learn how to make everything that is needed in an ordinary meal and every girl who at tends a cooking class will tell you that the art of cooking includes no end of fun. To cook admirably and to waste no good material is a real feminine ac complishment. “That young girl writes a good composition,” I once heard a man say, “but does she know how to broil a beef steak?” I could have told him that the girl who could write and speak correctly and wno stood high est in her classes was far more likely to be an adept in broiling and baking and preparing a salad or a pudding than her stupid neighbor who never set her mind on gaining intellectual culture. Whoever cultivates her brain most carefully will likewise excel when she tries manual training ard will show the best results as an all round girl. • * * » • I will suppose that you intend giv ing a class entertainment. To do this successfully you should have a spread of some sort and your guests will appreciate the repast all the more if it be of home production. Instead of contributing mere pocket money and ordering everything from a caterer, why not do as good house keepers used to in years gone by, and make ready for the feast your selves? A school spread need not be very elaborate, but you will want plenty of whatever you decide to offer. Sandwiches in variety and abun dance, cake and lemonade will furnish an appetizing bill of fare. Now note that a sandwich may be a coarse make-shift or a work of art. If one takes a loaf, hacks off a couple of thick slices and butters them in lumps, put ting between them an unsightly frag ment of meat, she will have the trav esty of a sandwich. It will satisfy a famished waif, but it will not please the palate of anybody who is refined and fastidious. To make sandwiches prcperly for a spread, you should have a sharp knife and a steady hand. Bread one day old is better than bread freshly baked. Carefully remove t.ie crust and first buttering each slice before cutting It. spread it with minced ham or chicken, or with nuts finely chopped, or with a paste of hard boiled egg, or with leaves of lettuce, crisp and green and flavored with a mayonnaise dressing. A girl who can make a dainty may onnaise is already a good cook, and | shows herself possessed of a fine in telligence. The pile of sandwiches placed on a great platter may have a touch of beauty if every one is tied with baby ribbon of your class: colors. Do not be too ambitious about the cake you provide for a school spread. Nothing for this purpose surpasses old fashioned ginger snaps and nicely browned cookies made from your grandmother's recipe. Ask her to give it you and you will acknowledge that I am telling the truth. Sugar cookies have a toothsome flavor that is just a little heightened by the addition of nuts chopped and liberally sprinkled into the dough. , m m * m * A picnic differs from a spread in the important item of environment. One may have a spread in the classroom or in one's own room or at a friend’s house. A picnic implies an excursion to a selected objective point. It may be by rail or by water or one may prefer as a picinlc ground a place within walking distance. We picnic out of doors. One of the most delighful picnics in my experience was on the Long Is land shore at a point where the waves of the great Scuth bay comes rolling and tumbling in. We started on the picnic at four in the afternoon driving to the shore, a merry com pany of boys and girls with an aunt or two and a mother and a jolly old sailor uncle, and w-e unpacked our bas kets at six and ate our supper in the sunset light. We boiled the kettle and made tea and we feasted on cold broiled chicken and ham, bread and butter, biscuits cheese and pound cake, and later went home by moon light singing all the way. An essential thing for the success of any social function, whether it be an informal spread or a formal dinner, is good temper. A single cross or fret ful person may act as a wet blanket on everyone concerned. There is no surer way to spoil a good time than to carry along somebody who is selfish or blue or disposed to find fault and to try for the best place and the least labor. Very possibly there is no such girl in your school, but once in a while she strays in at a picnic or a party from some other locality. For ourselves the best recipe for good times is a sunny disposition united to a brave heart and real unselfishness. Everything in this world goeB bet ter if judiciously planned for and managed according to system. Before inviting people to a function be sure that you have arranged every detail. If you are going on a picnic let it be thoroughly understood at what time you start and from what place, how much it will cost each person for car fare or steamboat ticket and at what hour you will set out for home. If possible always on such occasions have the company of a teacher, a mother or an old friend. Emergencies sometimes arise when the presence of somebody with experience is a com fort and a safeguard, and a sympa thetic older friend adds to the enjoy ment of the hour instead of detracting from It. Do not leave the provisions in thd care of an absent minded person who may blunder into forgetting their when she steps from the boat. This once happened at a picnic where I was a guest, and we all stood forlornly or the beach watching the departing boat that carried away our lunch baskets and left us lamenting because the con tents of our combined poeketbookS were not sufficient to purchase any thing except a few dry crackers at a country store. A NEAT LITTLE FROCK. The Color Is a Dr.rk Shade of Straw berry Pink and a Black Silk Sash Is Worn. A simple school dress is shown in this number; it is in a dark shade of strawberry-pink foule. The bodice has a long-waisted lining of sateen; the material is then arranged in three wide box-pleats hack and front. They are each stitched, and the fastening is made under the center back one. The spaces between the pleats of the material is tucked from the neck to the bust. The waist is pouched and sewn to the lining. The full skirt, which is sewn to the lining, is also tucked and pleated like the bodice, only the stitching on pleats is carried part way down. A black silk*sash is worn round the waist. The cuffs and collar are faced with lace. Material required: Three and one half yards 46 inches wide, yards lining, and a silk sash. w A SCHOOL DRESS. BEAUTY “DO’S” See that not a night passes without your windows being open, so that your lungs may receive pure air and feed to the blood a plentiful supply of oxygen all night long. See that you never sleep in the un derclothes you have worn all day, for they have absorbed much of the per spiration and effete matter thrown off by your body, and need to be turned, shaken and aired all night. To sleep in them would be but to give your skin a chance to reabsorb these waste stuffs and that you know is bad even without my telling you. Let never a morning pass that you do not draw a cloren deep breaths, ex panding and lilting the chest with every one, before you leave your bed and take a few brisk arm exercises, trunk bendings and some tiptoe work on rising-only a minute, perhaps, but you do not know how much it may mean to you to form the habit. At night give at least five or ten minutes to this work and emphasize the chest work and trunk bendings at the waist line, tie weak part of your anatomy just now and possibly mads so by the fashion of wearng two-p;ec« garments, skirts and waists, as well as by the corset, which more or lest restricts activity just at the waisi line. Keep the skin clean. A daily spongt and hard, brisk rub will not only pre vent your taking cold so easily, but be fine exercise for your arms, stim ulate the skin to better work, strength en your heart and increase your ung capacity. Be sure to go out some time during the day. Fill your lungs and exercise your body in the open air and sunshins for at least ten minutes daily. Never let rain keep you in, for as long as you are able to be up and working about the house you are able to run out for a bit into the open. Your Share of the Globe. If the suriace of the globe were di vided up and allotted in equal shares to each of its inhahitnats, it would ha found that each wot Id get a plot ad 23% acres.