The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, August 09, 1906, Image 6

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    Our Washington Letter
Review of Biggest Fleet in American Warships Ever Assembled—Sec
ond Only to Channel Squadron of Great Britain—The Public Bur
den of Naval Expenditures—The Various Classes of Negroes.
WASHINGTON.—It is proposed in Septem
ber to have a review of the biggest fleets ot
American warships ever assembled. It will take
place either in the waters of Long Island Sound
or off the coast of Massachusetts and will be wit
nessed by President Roosevelt. Before he left
Washington Mr. Roosevelt informed Secretary of
the Navy Bonaparte that he wished to inspect
the Atlantic fleet before it left for the southern
drill grounds in the early autumn. The secre
tary is now making the preparations to have the
big fleet assembled some time in September, and
it is probable that in addition to the president
the reviewing party will include Secretary Bona
parte and Admiral Dewey and several members
of the house and senate committees on naval af
The fleet will be assembled under the flag of
Rear Admiral Robley D. Evans and will be sec
ona in power only to me cnannei squauiuu ui
formidable fleet in the world. The fleet will embrace 14 first-class battleships
which will be divided into four squadrons. In addition there will be a squad
ron of four or five first-class armored cruisers, a torpedo flotilla and a num
ber of fleet auxiliaries, such as colliers, repair ships, etc.
It is expected that five or six new battleships fresh from the yards^ of
the contractors will be in this force, including the Georgia, Rhode Island, New
Jersey, Virginia, Connecticut and Louisiana. It is probable that the Connec
ticut, one of the new 16,000 ton battleships, will be selected as the flagship
of the squadron. The total tonnage of the battleships will be something like
180,000 tons and the armored cruiser squadron will represent 55,000 tons, mak
ing a grand displacement of about 235,000 tons in the vessels to be reviewed.
While preparations are being made for this
grand naval display there are some earnest
statesmen at work spreading a propaganda of
disarmament. Mr. Burton, of Ohio, a forceful
member of the house, who was largely instru
mental in having postponed the construction of
the big 20,000 ton battleship until congress could
pass on the plans, is one of the leaders in the
movement to put a stop to the building up of the
navies of the world. At the coming session of the
Inter-Parliamentary Union in London Mr. Bur
ton expects to exploit a practical plan for dis
Mr. Burton proposes if possible to obtain an
agreement by the representatives of the various
parliaments who will meet in London with the
idea that their recommendation will receive con
sideration by The Hague conference which fol
lows. It is already assured that the disarma
mem win De orougnt to tne attention oi tne coming mague conierence. me
American delegates will favor it and if necessary will take the initiative in
bringing it forward. The new Liberal government of Great Britain has de
clared favorably for the proposition and it is understood that England's dele
gates will be prepared to support it at. The Hague.
Disarmament as a theory has been under general discussion for years.
Advocates of peace and arbitrators have laid the blame of failure to accom
plish something in this line to the absence of a feasible programme. Even
should the proposition be rejected at The Hague it is felt that the discussion
of the subject will bring before the world the desirability of putting a check
on war. There are indications that France would welcome a proposition to
stop building ships, as would also Germany, who will continue to emulate Great
Britain as long as that country keeps adding to her navy. Naval expenditures
by all these governments, including the United States, are getting to be a
public burden, and if an international agreement could be reached to stop
preparations for war great relief would be experienced
Mr. Theodore E. Burton, the American
statesman, who will advocate disarmament in
London and do all he can to further the proposi
tion at The Hague, has attracted no little atten
tion to himself by his independence and force.
He is the chairman of the house committee on
rivers and harbors and in that position is a most
conspicuous figure before the public because he
has had the courage to fight some of the old
“pork barrel” schemes in river and harbor appro
priations by which money was dumped into shal
low creeks and useless bayous merely because
congressmen asked for it. He has evolved a
new system of river and harbor improvement
whereby the most important waterways and har
bors shall receive the greatest amount of money.
He believes in completing important national
projects before taking up those of a more local
It has often been said that if Mr. Burton were a married man he would
be the strongest character In the house. There is a sort of prejudice against
bachelors in public life because they seem to be lacking in poise and balance
and are apt to be testy and take narrow views of things. Mr. Burton is a man
of great brain power and force, but he is a good deal of a crusty old bachelor
and as such is not popular. What he accomplishes in congress is by the sheer
force of his mentality and logic. It is not because of any personal magnetism
or popularity.
There are many admirers of Mr. Burton who wish that he would get mar
ried because they believe the association with a good woman would so broaden
him as to make him one of the most eligible candidates in the country for the
presidency. The Ohio statesman, however, has been too busy as a student of
great questions and as a worker in his profession to give any thought to mar
riage. —
There has been running around loose in this
country, creating occasional sensations and giv
ing an undesired advertisement to his own coun
try, a young man who ought to be one of the
most prominent men in his own home. Alphonso
Zelaya, who is the son of the president of the
Republic of Nicaragua and one of the. heirs to a
fortune of 512,000,000, has been making a spec
tacle of himself for several months. He was sent
by his father to receive a military education at
the West Point Military Academy, but found the
discipline and curriculum of that institution a
little too severe for his southern nature. He
made the acquaintance in this city of a Miss
Baker, the adopted daughter of a Dr. Baker, and
a few months ago married her.
The report of his attentions to the young
lady had reached his president father in Nicara
gua and the latter tried to have him arrested and
sent oacK nome, Dut Detore his agents could accomplish that purpose young
Zelaya and Miss Baker had become man and wife. It was then that the rich
Nicaraguan president cast the young man off and would not recognize him un
less he gave up his American wife and came home.
The honeymoon of the young Zelayas did not last very long and they
separated, the wife returning to her foster father in this city. Then the
young man got a job playing a piano in a beer garden and earned ten dollars
a week. On this slender income the pair reunited, but soon separated again
and Zelaya lost his job as a musical “professor.” Then rather than go hungry
he stole $20 from a roomate and rather than go naked he stole a 50-cent shirt
from a policeman and his troubles seem only to have begun. The escapades
of this young Central American have made the society girls in Washington
a little shy of foreigners who represent themselves to be of great wealth and
to belong to high families.
The commercial and social circles of this
city and surrounding country are terribly agitated
over a proposition to establish a settiement of
colored persons in a section that is being built
up by white people who are in comfortable cir
cumstances. One of the attractive suburbs lying
to the northwest of Washington has for some
years been patronized by a good class of white
people who have spent money in the improve
ment of their property and felt comfortable in
the fact that their surroundings were all satis
factory. Now comes a proposition for the ac
quirement of a large section in this fashionable
territory which will be nold in lots to negroes
Already a large number of lots have been bought <
and the white people living near by are in a
state of frenzy.
The negro problem is as acute in Washing
ton. and even more so. as in the smith*.™ ......
and cities. Nearly one-third of the poplation of the capital city is colored
and among them is the most undesirable class of negroes. There is a class
which, while law abiding in most respects, is very impudent and assertive and
wherever possible will “butt in” among the whites. This class is purchasing
lots in the suburb mentioned and the old residents who have already erected
homes in that neighborhood are sure that their property will losj half its
value if this negro settlement is continued. There does not seem to be any
relief to those who object to colored neighbors, as the latter have a right to
purchase property if they have the price.
The better class of negroes in Washington, those who do not wish to
associate with the whites, are scattered all over the city. They are not the
class that wish to colonize in any particular locality, but go off quietly by
themselves and do not intrude on anyone. There 1b another cla. s who have a
little money and who try to ape the* fashions and customs of white society
and who produce the young men and girls who crowd sidewalks, elbow white
nAnnle to the wall or in the gutter, and preempt seats on street oar*. So far
there has been no direct outbreak against the aggressive type of negro, but
thatte due largel* to the conservative character of the white cKtewaship of
W**htagton. It Is not “good form” to get in a row with a negro.
William D. Haywood, who has been nominated by the socialists for gov
ernor of Colorado, is now in Idaho, where he is being held prisoner await
ing trial as one of the assassins of ex-Gov. Steunenberg, of that state. Mr.
Haywood is the secretary and treasurer of the Western Federation of Miners.
The socialists of Colorado threaten to invade Idaho in force if Haywood is
elected and attempt to storm the prison where their leader is confined.
Punishment Meted Out Seldom Satis
factory to Superiors.
“There is an element of luck in
court-martial cases," remarked a naval
officer to a Washington Star man,
“just as there is in criminal cases be
fore the civil courts. In one case the
punishment depends a good deal on
the nature of the cabinet officer in
charge and in the other on the char
acter of the trial judge.
“The point of these remarks lies
in the application. A short time ago,
while Assistant Secretary Newberry
was acting as secretary of the navy,
he was called upon to pass on the
cases of two young officers convicted
by court-martial of violating the naval
regulations. In both cases he cen
sured the court for the leniency of
the punishment inflicted. Since then
Secretary Bonaparte has acted on two
court-martial cases and in each case
he reduced the sentence Imposed by
the court Of course, there was a
difference in the cases, but the princi
ple was the same. Neither official
Railroad Construction Is Opening Af
rica to Civilization.
The great advance which has been
made toward a realization of Cecil
Rhodes’ daring conception of the
cape to Cairo raiload is impressive
ly displayed by the recent announce
ment that the rail head had reached
Broken hill, in British Central Af
rica. The length of Africa from
north to south along the line of the
road is about 4,000 miles. The por
tion of the road now in actual opera
tion is 2,016 miles long, but the dis
tance remaining to be covered is even
less than these figures seem to indi
cate, for railroad construction is go
ing on southwardly from Egypt, and
when the line from South Africa pen
etrates the Soudan it will make con
nections forming a continuous rail
route across the continent. It is not
many years since Africa was known
as the dark continent. The region in
which railroad construction is going
on is that in which Livingstone la
bored, and in which he died in 1873
Lincoln Beachy circling the dome of the capitol at Washington, D. C„
June 18. The first time a flying machine has sailed with such significant
success in that city.
sustained the court-martial. One
thought the sentences inadequate and
the other official thought the sen
tences excessive. So severe was Mr.
Newberry in his reprimand to one
court-martial that a high naval of
ficer said that, as between sitting on
a court-martial and being tried by it,
he thought he should prefer to risk
the punishment meted out to the ac
Odd Reasons Assigned by Those For
Whom They Were Given.
Prom very earliest times stage per
formances for the benefit of charities
have been common. The first benefit
for an actress was awarded by James
I., who in this manner paid tribute to
the art of Elizabeth Barry.
Many and quaint are the announce
ments of these old-time benefits. All
too frequent were such notices as
these: “For some distressed actors
lately at this theater,” and “For the
benefit of a gentleman who has writ
ten much for the stage." In the early
part of the eighteenth century these
notices were more or less confessions
of personal insolvency.
One actor, for instance, announced
a performance for “the benefit of my
self and creditors,” and another took
the public into his confidence and ar
ranged a special night for the “benefit
of my poor relations.” Still more con
fiding was the young actor who, stat
ing that his friends disliked his “be
ing on the stage,” organized a bene
fit to enable “me to return to my for
mer employment.”
At that time the idea that the next
! generation would see the locomotive
in the heart of Africa would have
been regarded as the dream of a
London Journal Ascribes It to Tyran
ny of Tailors.
Absent-mindedness could not go
much further than it did in the case
of the Wandsworth-road landlady’s
son, who charged the lodger with
stealing his waistcoat, and then dis
covered that he had been wearing
it all day himself beneath his shirt.
By what process did his waistcoat
assume this unusual position? Sure
ly it was a throw-back to the treat
ment of a waistcoat as if it were
really the "vest” that tailors persist
in calling it. To the ordinary modern
man a “vest” means an undergar
ment. Yet the tyranny of the tailor
prevails even with the dictionaries.
They all begin by setting forth that
a “vest” was originally an outer gar
ment, such as the vest made fash
ionable by Charles II. and ridiculed
by Louis XIV., who dressed his lack
eys in it. According to Pepys, it was
a long cassock fitting closely to the
body. But the dictionaries go on to
say that “vest” now commonly means
a waistcoat Among several consulted,
only one Qven mentions the really
common use, and that is an American
dictionary, which observes that in
England “undervest" or “vest” means
what “undershirt” does in America.—
London Chronicle.
Swinburne’s Greeting.
. Some years ago Joaquin Miller, the
poet of the Sierras, and a well-known
poet from Chicago went to England
together and made a pilgrimage to
the home of Swinburne. Arrived at
the jealously guarded retreat of the
great meterist, they confessed them
selves to the poets’ faithful Cerebrus,
Mr. Watts Dunton.
' The latter withdrew to break the
glad news to Swinburne and the visit
ors began to think anxiously of the
nice thingB they wanted to Bay. Joa
quin took a firm grip of his flowing
whiskers, while the Chicago man fin
gered nervously a neat roll of MS. in
an inside pocket. Soon a door was
opened on an upper floor and the rich
voice of the author of “Laus VenerlB”
floated down the stairway:
“Tell Miller to come up. Tell the
other man to go to hell.”
Hopeless Task.
“You ought to try to save money.”
“What’s the use? I couldn’t do that
when 1 was single.'
As Sinclair drew near Mrs. Law
son’s bouse, he slackened his some
what nervous pace, and halted with an
air of indecision. But Mrs. Lawson
had caught sight of him from the
porch where she sat, with a huge hand
bell on her knee, waiting for her
boarders to come home for supper.
There was a shade of embarrass
ment on his handsome face.
“Mrs. Lawson,” said Sinclair, with
visible effort, “I came by to see if you
would take Katharine and myself to
“In the name of the blessed Lamb!”
ejaculated Mrs. Lawson, staring at
him over the gate pickets, “whatever
has happened? What do you want to
go anywhere and board for? Ain’t the
“It is a wrench to me to leave the
old place,” Sinclair interrupted, “and
my father will be very lonely now that
my mother is dead. But Katharine
has set her heart on it, and if you will
take us—”
“I haven’t a sign of a room left,
Alick,” Mrs. Lawson broke in, “except
the room on the roof," she added
“Well, what is the matter with the
room on the roof?” demanded Sinclair,
He threw back his head as he spoke,
and screwed his eyes up at the box
like structure planted on the roof of
the low cottage.
“Nothing,” returned Mrs. Lawson,
hastily, “nothing at all, except that it
is so small. Besides, the stair is like
a ladder. Katharine would never—”
“All right; I’ll take it at your own
price, Mrs. Lawson.”
She was very beautiful, the golden
haired girl whom Alick Sinclair had
brought, a bride, to his father’s house
less than two years before. The mys
terious malady which developed short
ly after her marriage, and which con
tinued to baffle her physician, had
robbed her cheeks of their color and
bloom. But it added an indescribable
charm to her delicate face and fragile
figure. An unearthly expression
dawned into her large blue eyes—a
prescient gaze, as if uer vision, like
her sense of hearing, had become ab
normally acute. Something almost
akin to awe filled those around this
exquisite young creature at sight of
her strange and inexplicable suffer
ings. She had, apparently, no bodily
ailment. But the slightest irregular
sound thrilled her with nervous alarm;
her attenuated frame shook with con
vulsions at any unexpected appear
ance; she paled at a whiff of unaccus
tomed perfume. She ate but little,
and seemed to have lost the faculty of
sleep. Latterly, a morbid distaste for
the old Sinclair homestead had pos
sessed her. She breathed with diffi
culty within its lofty walls; she was
oppressed by the atmosphere of its
shadowy garden.
The same night saw them installed
in Mrs. Lawson’s room on the roof.
The room was small. A four-posted,
mahogany bedstead, with balduchin
and side steps, occupied at least one
quarter of the floor space.
Sinclair, seated on the side of the
bed, smiled as he compared this
cramped rookery with his wife’s ample
dressing-room at the Catalpas. But
he felt an unwonted lightness of spir
it. He could see the reflection of
Katharine’s face in the mirror oppo
site. She stood with her back to hint,
brushing out her long hair. There
was a look of content on her white
brow; he even fancied a touch of color
in her lips; her golden hair seemed to
have regained somewhat of its lost
“She was right,” he thought; “the
change has already helped her.”
He watched with delight the rhyth
mic motion of her slender arms.
Meanwhile he chatted gayly of his
boyhood days, and the recolle
aroused by Mrs. Lawson's mother';.'
gossip. Katharine listened, turning
from time to time with a nod or a
He stopped abruptly, staring con
fusedly into space. He passed n.3
hand across his forehead and contin
ued his story. But the words were ut
tered mechanically. Was there_he
was asking himself—was there some
thing moving between Katharine and
himself? Something faint and shad
owy?—cloudlike? misty? Yes! No.
He shut his eyelids tightly and opened
them again. Yes! He could see it
plainly now, the gray-clad figure of a
woman with head drooped to her
breast and arms hanging at her side.
“My God!” he groaned, inwardly,
“now Katharine will turn around!
She will see it! The shock will kill
her! She will die! She will drop
dead before my eyes!”
“Katharine! ’ the words burst invol
untarily from his lips. He sprang for
ward with outstretched arms.
“Did you speak. Alick?” asked his
wife, looking over her shoulder.
"Yes—no—that is, —” he stam
mered, a cold sweat beading his fore
The visitor had resumed her ghostly
“Dear Alick,” said Katharine, ca
ressingly, I know you must be tired.
I will be ready for bed in one mo
“She sees nothing! She hears noth
ing! Oh, thank God!” thought Sin
clair, turning his hot eyes from the
white-robed figure kneeling in prayer
by the bedside to the gray-clad shadow
moving up and down the room.
Katharine nestled like a tired child
among the pillows and fell instantly
asleep. Her husband hung over her in
an agony of amazement and incredul
ity. Could it really be that she was
sleeping? Was she not rather dead?
Her regular breathing, the smile on
her slightly parted lips, the soft aban
donment of her limbs, reassured him.
Yet, how strange! How long since
she had slept thus! “Thank God!” he
breathed again, drawing the lace net
ting over her.
Then it came nearer, steadily near
er. He saw behind the veil a pair of
dark, sad eyes. A chill sensation
quivered along his veins. He struck
out savagely—at nothing.
He was awakened by hearing Mrs.
Lawson moving about in the hall be
low. He arose softly and descended
the stair.
“Mrs. Lawson,” he demanded, ab
ruptly, laying his hand on her shoul
der, “is there anything—has anything
ever been said about the room on the
“Don’t say a word, Alick,” she in
terrupted in an awe-struck whisper.
“I can see it in your face. She hasn’t
walked before, not that I know of,
since my mother saw her, and that
was before you were born. I’ve never
seen her myself. I never dreamed
that she was walking yet. Lord, what
have I done? I didn’t want to put you
there. Poor Katharine—”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Lawson,” he
said, kindly. “Katharine has seen
nothing as yet; but I have.” He
smiled grimly, yet with a certain
sense of relief. “At least,” he though:,
“it is not quite madness. What does
it mean;” he asked aloud. “Who was
“They say,” returned Mrs. Lawson,
still speaking in a whisper, “that old
Squire Lawson, my husband’s grand
father, had that room built as a sort
of jail for his young wiie, who went
out of her mind, poor thing, and no
wonder, for lue squire was a terrible
old man! He took her baby from her
and shut her up in that room and kept
her there by herself until she pined
and died. That was before you were
born.” Mrs. Lawson was sobbing and
wringing her hands. “You must take
Katharine Sinclair away before she
sees her. It would kill her. But don t
say anything about it outside, Alick.
My boarders would all leave me. I
would be ruined.”
Sinclair soothed the excited old
woman into quiet. Then he remount
ed the stair. Katharine, in her white
dressing gown, met him on the land
“I missed you when I awoke, Alick,
dear,” she said. Where were you?”
“Katharine,” he began with studied
carelessness, “I find this room very
small; don’t you? And Mrs. Lawson
is well-meaning, but she i3 tiresome,
good soul! I think I will look up
more comfortable quarters during the
day. Can you be ready to leave here
this afternoon?”
She plac'd her hands upon his
shoulders and held him at arm s
length for a moment without speak
ing. Her eyes were nrimming with
mischief; a smile danced about her
red lips.
“Alick,” she said, “I know why you
wish to go away. You are afraid of
the woman who walked here last
night. Did you think I had not seen
Sinclair’s jaw dropped. He stared
at her with an amazement which was
almost ludicrous. But before he had
recovered himself sufficiently to speak
Mrs. Lawson came panting up the
stair and thrust a pallid face in at the
The house was on fire! In an in
credibly short time the old wooden
building was laid in ashes.
Sinclair and his wife returned to the
Catalpas. It was Katharine who in
sisted, with a sort of gay perverseness,’
upon this. But even as they passed
under the arched gateway the myste
rious gloom fell back upon her. Sin
clair, now almost as morbid as herself,
could have sworn that he saw its
descent in visible form. Her hair on
the instant became dull and lifeless;
her cheeks fell hollow; the red on her
lips changed to a gray palior.
A moth fluttered against her boson.
She fled, palpitating with terror,
across the old garden.
Sinclair stood, hardly a month later,
looking down on his wife’s upturned
face. Once more she slept profoundly.
A mocking-bird whistled in a catalpas
tree by an open window. The stricken
man frowned and lifted instinctively
a warning hand, but dropped it, re
“What did it all mean?” he ques
tioned, stooping to the face on ii;s
The dead lips smileu, but withheld
the response.
(Copyright, 1906 by Joseph B. Bowles.)
A Denver dispatch tells of the death
of the “original Dead wood Dick,” and
certainly no one is going to question
the intrepid Richard’s originality.
The flying frogs of the Malays ap
pear to be mythical, but three tree
snakes of Borneo, lately described to
the London Zoological society by Mr.
R. Shelford, are credited with taking
flying leaps from the boughs of trees
to the ground. It is found that scales
on the lower part of the body may be
drawn inward so that the whole lower
surface becomes concave. The re
sistance to the air is thus greatly in
creased, and experiments indicate that
the snakes do not rail in writhing
coils, but are let down gently in a di
rect line by the parachute-like action
of their peculiar bodies.
By Another Name.
A London florist found that a new
and fine rambler rose did not sell well
under the name of the “Amelia Jenk
ins," so he changed the name to the
"Lady Gay." Now it is going like hot
A Small Quantity Not Hard to Dig eat
and Will Induce Sleep—Fine
for Poultice.
“The onion is not half appreciated.'"
remarks a southern housekeeper, an
reported in the New York World.
This humble bulb can be used for
so many different dishes and in so
many different ways that one often
forgets its many excellent remediu
Onions are an excellent cure for
sleeplessness. They act as a kind o:
soporific if taken in small quanti'i -s
before retiring. They will be four.!
to be more appetizing if finely ehop:**d
up and laid between two thin wafe~>
or biscuits. Eaten in this way tae;.
are also easily digested. The reaa c
so many people complain of onion
disagreeing with them :s that the.,
eat too much of the homely vegetable.
Onions are not intended to be eat -•
en masse. When they are taken raw
they should be thoroughly mastica e t.
or, better still, the juice of the on: :
should be pressed out and taken on
bread or as a sauce.
In this form the onion is splend
for liver complaints and acts in o r
sequence as a purifier for a dark ar.
muddy complexion.
An onion poultice will extract th*
pain and heat from a scald or burn
To make this poultice take a certa::
quantity of onions and crush ther:
and lay between cheesecloth and
ply to the burn.
Onion syrup made in the following
manner will relieve the congestion ir
cases of croup. Cut several raw
onions into slices, sprinkle the slic
with granulated sugar and squeer-*
out the juice. The dose is a teaspco:.
ful every 15 minutes until relief is
obtained. This syrup is also muc r
used in cases of bronchitis.
A good cook uses onions almost .
freely as she does salt. But the
onion is always disguised, or. rather
it is merely the juice, and not the
pulp, that is tasted. Sugar peas are
very much improved by boiling a
young onion with them, and the past}
taste vanishes from macaroni if a
couple of onions are placed In the
water in which it is cooked Fren<!:
people take a piece of onion and
it inside the salad dish before dr**.- -
ing the salad. This gives an imper
ceptihle flavor of onions that gives :
Rub all over with a piece of cl- »•
white flannel wetted with ammor. i
Give two applications and then po. -
with the usual brown polish.
FOR THE COOK.—When weighir.s:
treacle for cooking purposes, well tl
the scale first, and the treacle will - ;r
off quite easily, leaving no stickines
INGS.—Either colored or black. ne«
use soap; warm bran water should •*
used, and the stockings should
squeezed or run through the wring •
and dried in the shade.
Can be made in the following » i;.
Melt a little isinglass in spirits of wi:
and add a small quantity of water,
warm the mixture over the Are; wh
thoroughly mixed and melted it w*:
form an almost transparent glue, an
will join glass almost invisibly.
Sprinkle a little crushed borax on <
flannel cloth that has been wetted n
hot water and well soaped. This
brighten the copper like magic. Ria -
and polish.—Chicago Tribune.
It Is Made of White Material in Pref
erence to Colored—May Be
Laundered Often.
■. .—
The very newest laundry bags are
of white linen; or. if one cann >: af
ford this material, cannon cloth ma- ■
an excellent substitute, suggests a c«
tributor to the Chicago Inter Ocean
possessing, as it does, the wear::. ,
properties and appearance of the ini •
without its expensive feature,
ornamentation of the bag consists nt
the word laundry in large and attm
tive lettering, placed diagonally a>-r, -
one side of the bag. and embroide
in wash silk or cotton floss. The edg •
of the bag are neatly mac line stitct -
then feather-stitched by hand. «-:i ■
ing two inches from the top throng
which is run a tape or ribbon at:
the finishing touch. The chief virtu *
of these white bags over the ti u
honored ones of cretonne and sim : i
material lies in the fact that they may
be laundered as often as lesirabie. yet
retain their pristine freshness. Tfc«
size of the bag, as a mat .er of course
depends wholly upon the demands t c
be made upon it.
Potted Flowers on the Table.
It is told that Helen Gould dyes
not favor cut flowers for table de
rations. but prefers flowers growing
in pots, that stand erect in their own
earth, stately, fresh and fragrant, *ij -
a writer in the Famer's Voice
Roses growing in small pots, and tie
baby primrose are among her favorite
decorations. In her dining-room ;h
has a large screen completely cove-ed
with the dark, glossy foliage of -the
English ivy.
He Got a Pig.
A man’s corpse was deli re red to Wil
liam Archer, of Cromwe 1, Ind.. who
went to the express offire to get a
prize pig which he had purchaf-ei
archer refused to accept the coffin
ind inquiry developed that the late s
on the pig’s box and the coffln had
become exchanged. Archer got his pis
on the next train, and it is presumed
.hat the corpse was delivered at the
proper place.
Chicken Patties.
Chop meat of cold chicken coarse
ly and season well. Make large cap
of drawn butter, and while on Hr®
stir in two eggs, boiled hard, minced
very fine, also a little chopped pars
ley, then chicken meat. Let almost
boil. Have ready some patty she lls
of good paste, baked quickly to lijtbt
brown. Fill with mixture and set la
oven to heat Arrange ujion dish sad
serve hot
Soda Instead of Soap.
If soda is used in dishwuter, no