HORACE
HASELTINE CQPY/?/Cffr, 19/2, A C AfPCJLL/J?C &. CO.
20
SYNOPSIS.
Robert Cameron, capitalist, consults
Philip Clyde, newspaper publisher, re- .
prding anonymous threatening letters he
has received. The first promises a sample j
of the writer’s power on a certain day.
On that day the head is mysteriously cut
from a portrait of Cameron while the lat
ter Is in the room. While visiting Cam- .
eron in his dressing room a Nell Gwvnne I
minor is mysteriously shattered. Cameron j
becomes seriously ill as a result of the
fhock. The third letter appears mysteri
ously on Cameron’s sick bed. It makes j
direct threats against the life of Cameron, i
Clyde tells Cameron the envelope was
• r-mpty. He tells Evelyn everything and
plans to take Cameron on a yacht trip. .
The yacht picks up a fisherman found ;
drifting helplessly in a boat. lie gives j
the name of Johnson. Cameron disap- j
pears from yacht while Clyde’s back is j
turned. A fruitless search is .made for a
motor boat seen by the captain just be
fore Cameron disappeared. Johnson is al
lowed to go after being closely questioned.
Evelyn takes the letters to an expert in
Chinese literature, who pronounces them
if Chinese origin Clyde seeks assistance
from a Chinese fellow college student,
who recommends him to Yup Sing, most
prominent Chinaman in New York. Clyde
roes to meet Yup Sing, sees Johnson, at
tempts to follow him. falls into a base
ment, sprains his ankle and becomes un
conscious. Clyde is found by Miss Clem
ent. a missionary among the Chinese. He
is sick several days as a result of inhal
ing charcoal fumes. Evelyn tells Clyde ;
if a peculiarly acting anesthetic which •
renders a person temporarily unconscious. !
Murphy is discovered to have mysterious
relations with the Chinese. Miss Clement j
promises to get information about Cam- :
?ron. Slump in Crystal Consolidated, of i
which Cameron is the head, is caused by !
a rumor of Cameron’s Illness. Clyde finds |
Cameron on Fifth avenue in a dazed and
•maciated condition and takes him horn** }
Cameron awakes from a long sleep and j
speaks in a strange tongue. Evelyn de- .
Hares the man is not her uncle. Evelyn {
and Clyde call on Miss Clement for prom- i
Ised Information and find that the China- j
man who was to give it has just been !
murdered. Miss Clement gives Clyde a .
note, arking him to read it after he j
leaves the mission and then destroy it. •
It tells of the adduction of a white roan !
l»y Chinese who shipped him hack to j
China. The man is accused of the crime i
if “Sab:» Eoroha” in which 100 Chinamen j
were killed. The appearance in New York
if the men they supposed they had ship
ped to <'hina throws consternation into
the Chinese. The brougham In which
Clyde anti Evelyn are riding in held up
by an armed man. Clvdf? is seized by
Murphy and a fight ensuete. Evelyn and
Clyde are rescued by the police and re
turn home. They find Yup Sing and the
Chinese consul awaiting them. Yup tells
Clyde the storv of the crime of the “Sa
ble Eorcha.’Ji in which 97 Chinamen were
■leliberatelv o*ent to their death by one
Donald M’Nish. whom they declare Is
Cameron. They declare that M’Nish can
be identified by a tattoo mark on his arm.
Clyde declares that* Cameron has no such
mark. The nurse is called in and de
scribes a tattoo mark on his patient’s
arm. Clvde goes to investigate and ’
finds the patient attempting to hide a let
ter. It is addressed to Donald M’Nish. j
The letter is from the man’s mother in
Scotland and identifies the patient as
M’Nish. Confronted by the sole survivor
if the ’Sable Lorcha**—who. it develops.
Is Sov. a half-breed Chinaman, recogniz
ed by Clvde as Johnson, the fisherman—
M’Nish shoots him and kills himself. Miss
Clement gets the whole story from Soy
before he dies. Murphy. whose right
name ig Moran, had been a partner of
M’Nish in the nefarious Chinese trade and
;ater became Hs most relentless pursuer.
He was the author of the threatening let
ters. Soy was responsible for the myste
rious happenings at Cameron’s home by
the aid of the ether of invisibility. Cam
eron was drugged and shipped as a mem
ber of the crew of a tramp steamer bound »
for Hongkong.
CHAPTER XXVII.—Continued.
So far as I could judge, the Glamor- j
ganshire would call at Algiers in a j
few days; and for a while I considered
the advisability of communicating;
with the United States Consul at that |
port, through the State Department at j
Washington. But a knowledge of the
tortuous involutions of official red tape ;
deterred me. After all, I believed '
that if Cameron was to be rescued
from the gruelling slavery of servitude
an this British freighter, the work
must not be intrusted to the personal
ly disinterested.
Thereupon I consulted calendars,
jteamer schedules, and Continental
time-tables. By the fast transatlantic
liner sailing cn the morrow, I could
make Paris in six days, forty-eight
hours later I could be in Brindisi. If
good fortune followed, less than four
days more would land me at Port Said.
It was now Monday, November 23.
Twelve days hence would be Decem
ler 5th. and the Glamorganshire, her
igents had told me, could not possibly
reach there before December 6th. The
margin was not wide, but it seemed to
me sufficient, and thq thought of fur
ther inaction, now that the trail lay
bare, was nothing less than unendur
able torment.
wisaom, i suppose, would have die-!
iated the advisability of securing some
badge of authority from my own gov
ernment before setting forth on a mis
sion involving so delicate a point of
International maritime law as that
which Was here embraced; but the
saving of time was with me. Just then,
the paramount consideration. The loss
of a day meant the possible missing
not only of connections, but of the
main object of my journey; and so,
armed with nothing more potent than
good health, strong determination, and
a well-filled purse I boarded the Kron
prinz Wilhelm and started on my diag
anal race to head off a quarry which
already had twenty-five days’ start of
me.
Speed facing all-important, my wish
wa3 to travel alone and unencum
bered, but at the last moment I was
persuaded to consent to the company
sf both Evelyn Grayson and Dr Addi
son. Realizing the brave, unfaltei-ug
assistance which the young woman
had afforded me from the first. 1 could
hardly refuse to gratify her wish to be
present at what we both hoped would
be the victorious end. Moreover, the
thought of absence from her for a
month at least, and probably much
longer, was far from the most pleas
ant contemplation; my yielding, there
fore, was not altogether unselfish.
Dr. Addison's case was different. At
the last moment he decided to go
abroad by the same ship; and, on the
way over, touched by his contrition
and his almost pathetic desire to
make amends to his quondam friend
at the earliest possible minute, I my
Belf Invited him to go with us the rest
of the way.
Evelyn bad proposed that Mrs. Lan
caster should also be included in the
party, but this I would not hear of. If,
for propriety’s sake, another presence i
was necessary, her maid, and, ulti
mately, Dr. Addison, afforded all the j
security the conventions could de-1
mand.
The fever of haste was upon all of
us from the start. The time on ship- J
board, in spite of our common subject j
of converse dragged eternally.
Should we reach Cherbourg in time
to connect with the P. &. O. Express
at Paris? That was the one constant- !
ly recurring question, to be speculated j
upon with varying degrees of hope and i
despair.
As good fortune would have It, wc
made the train with fifteen minutes to
spare, and the run to Brindisi was ac
complished without accident or un
seemly delay.
Here, however, we were compelled
to wait six hours. The steamer was
late, ow ing to some seismic disturb- :
nnce off the coast of Malta, and fear
of encountering new and necessarily
uncharted volcanic islands, had de
manded slow and cautious sailing.
How ever sinister had been the game
fate played with us in the earlier
stages of our quest, the favor of its [
present mood could not be gainsaid.
That we were now reasonably sure of
reaching Port Said in advance of the
Glamorganshire was in itself a wel
come relief from trying anxiety; but
that was only a small part of the
banquet of good things provided for ;
us.
I was still exercised in a measure ;
over the steps which must be taken to j
secure Cameron's release. Without
proper introduction to the authorities. ■
it was becoming more and more a
question In my mind whether, after
all. I should be able to accomplish my
end in the brief time to which I was ,
restricted.
With this fell possibility of failure
dinging in my reflections, I was strid
ing the white deck of the P. and O. !
steamer, in the early morning follow- j
ing the night of our departure from
Brindisi, when a hand, dropped heavi
ly on my shoulder, spun me round to
face a laughing, sun-browned, young
Englishman in white flannels.
For just a moment I was literally,
as well as figuratively, taken aback!
for the tone of the ringing voice which
greeted rue carried me five years at
least into the past, when Lionel Hart
ley and I had ridden to hounds to
gether at Melton Moy.bray, while fel
low guests at a house-party in the
neighborhood. .
“You bally Yankee!” he was shout
ing. "Fancy running into you In this
fashion! I’m jolly glad to see you,
old chap!”
Though my delight at seeing him
was at that moment tempered by ab
sorbing interest in my mission, it rose
a fevt minutes later to unadulterated
ecstasy, when I discovered that he was
stationed at Port Said, and occupied
what seemed to me just then one of
the most important posts in the Brit
ish Foreign Service—secretary to the
Governor General for the Suez Canal.
“You’re going to Cairo, I suppose?”
he hazarded.
“No,” I replied. “I’m going with
you, and I shall not let you out of my
sight, my friend, until you have proved
you’re something more than a figure
head stuck up in the Egyptian sands ”
"If there’s any little thing I can do
—” he began; but I interrupted him.
"There’s a very big thing you can
do,” I corrected. And then I told Km.
"What a lark!”» he cried, refusing
to recognize the serious side of it.
"Fancy one of your American multi
millionaires passing coal on a British
freighter.”
“‘Passing coal!” I exclaimed. “What
rot! Surely they wouldn’t—”
“Oh, wouldn’t they?” he broke in.
“That’s just what they would do. Ho
isn’t an able-bodied seaman, is he?
You can safely wager he’s an experi
enced stoker, or at least a trimmer by
this time.”
"Don t, Hartley, aon t, 1 protested.
"It’s too cruel to think of.”
"Never mind, old chap,” was his re
joinder. "There’s a good time com
ing. We’ll have him out and washed
and dressed and sitting at table with
us an hour after the old tub lets her
anchor drop. And I’ll wager you a
tenner that thare won’t be a miss in
anjr part of the programme.”
When, at breakfast, I told Evelyn
the good pews—omitting, of course,
all references to the coal-handling sug
gestion—she demanded that I hunt up
Hartley, at once, and present him.
Discretion, however, seemed to me In
this instance, the better part of obedi
ence. 1 did hunt Hartley up and I
did present him, but not until I had al
lowed time for the first flush of Eve
lyn’s fervor to cool.
He was a very good-looking young
chap; Evelyn was both grateful and
impulsive, and I—was in love.
Our landing at Port Said was made
on the morning of Saturday, the fifth
of December, and all that day and the
next, wo waited in more or less con
stant expectancy and a boiling temper
ature for tidings of the tardy Glamor
ganshire.
Hartley, meanwhile, was a model of
hospitality, but Port Said is primarily
a coaling station on the sea-edge of
the desert, and aside from the con
crete docks, the ships, the light house,
and the nearly naked Nubians that
swarmed everywhere, it proved utter
ly lacking in objects of interest.
Sunday night brought some small
relief from the Intolerable heat, and
gjuteful for the respite, all four of our
little party were early to bed. Grad
ually we had come to believe that our
waiting was likely to be prolonged.
The earthquake at Malta having de
layed one vessel would In all probabil
ity delay others as well. Including that
which we had come so far to intercept.
So, utterly worn out by nervous ten
sion and the fatigue of the tropical ell
mate, we found rest grateful, and slept
soundly. Just how soundly was dem
onstrated when, at an hour after mid
night, three resounding knocks on my
hotel chamber door only roused me,
dully, and lpft Evelyn and her maid
and Dr. Addison, who occupied adja
cent rooms, in deep slumber, totally
undisturbed.
With what seemed almost superhu
man effort. I spurred myself to con
sciousness and struggled up on elbow.
“Who's there?" I called.
“Hartley," came the answer. "Open
the door. I thought you'd died of Port
Said ennui.” And when I had sleepily
risen and admitted him he went on
hurriedly. “Make haste, now, old
chap! The bally freighter has just
come in, and I don't propose to lose
that tenner through dilatory methods
on your part.”
Cut I needed no urging. Wide awake
at his tirst sentence, I was already
flinging on my clothes. He still chat
tered on In his chaffing way, but I
scarcely heard him. Conscious only
of the murmur of his pleasant, cheery
English voice, my thoughts were out
in the night, across the waters of the
harbor, down in the inferno of a rusty
ocean tramp, where a sweating stoker
was giving battle to despair—a sweat
ing stoker who, in far-away America,
owned a pleasure craft almost as big
as the ship whose tires he had been
feeding for forty days across two seas.
"How about the doctor?" Hartley
asked, as 1 slipped my arms Into my
coat sleeves and snatched a cap from
a closet peg.
"It’s too late now.” was my an
swer. “You should have reminded me.
I forgot all about him.” And it was
true. I had forgotten everything, ex
cept the imminence of the rescue and
the urgency of haste. To one in Cam
eron's plight every fretting minute
must count a drop of torture.
The heavens were splendid with
tropic stars, and a faint breeze from
the sea gently rutiled the spangled
black harbor waters, as Hartley’s
launch, guided by a pilot of experi
ence, headed for the twinkling lights
of the recently anchored freighter.
Silently I sat, with gaze straining,
watching the indicated sparks grow
larger and brighter, moment by mo
ment, until at length their gleams re- i
fleeted in the waves, and their back-!
ground emerged' in a great dark
shadow, which silhouetted itself
against the less opaque sky.
“There she is!” Hartley cried In en
thusiasm, as her fuunel and masts
somberly defined themselves above j
the black of her hull “We’ll be able j
to hail her in another minute.”
Then I heard the voice of our
helmsman ring out. and presently
there was an answering shout from
above, and an exchange of greetings,
succeeded by directions; and the next
moment. I was following Hartley up
a swaying rope-ladder to where an
outheld lantern glowed overhead.
“Yes, Secretary to the Governor
General,” 1 heard my friend saying, as
I put foot on the iron deck. "You're
Captain Murchison, I suppose.”
The captain’s affirmative was more
than deferential: it was obsequious. |
He was not a tall man, but broad, rug
ged and bearded, with long, powerful,
gorilla-like arms out of all proportion
to his stature. I could readily fancy
him an ugly antagonist. Unaided by
Hartley, I concluded, I should have
had small chance indeed of success.
Eut the low-born Briton’s respect for
official authority was evidently strong
in him, and I felt that ifCameron was
aboard we should be able to effect his
rescue with a minimum of effort.
"I should like to see you in your
cabin, Captain,” Hartley proposed, and
when we were closeted there, he con
tinued: “There is a report that you
have among your crew a United States
subject who was brought aboard,
drugged, and forced to remain aboard
against his will. His government has
interested itself in his behalf, and un
less he is restored at once to his
friends serious complications will un
doubtedly ensue.’’
The captain, despite his respect for
authority, frowned.
There s nothing to that report, sir,
he said, boldly. “I'm not shanghniing
men In these days. sir. Every moth
er’s son I’ve got on this boat shipped
for Hong Kong, sir, of his own free
will and accord.”
“I dare say you fully believe that,
| Captain Murchison," was Hartley's
diplomatic rejoinder, "but this time
I you happen to be mistaken. I don't
i suppose you have any objection to our
! inspecting your crew, have you? Sup
pose you have both the watches piped
forward, and we’ll settle this little
business for ourselves. Mr. Clyde, here,
| knows the man.”
Captain Murchison's glance at me
was undisguisedly venomous. Reluct
antly he rang for his steward.
“Send the bo’sun here," he directed,
doggedly.
"Weil begin at the bottom. Cap
tain,” Hartley suggested, when the
boatswain, cap in hand, stood in the
doorway. “First, I want to see every
man Jack you have working In the
stoke hold.”
Although the master gave the nec
essary directions I mistrusted him. Be
tween the boatswain and himself I felt
that there was an understanding
which required neither voicing nor
signal. And as, a little later, we stood
on the forward deck, under the bridge,
and by the light of a lantern viewed
one after another of those swarthy,
grimy laborers who had crowded up
from below, I was convinced of the
correctness of my Intuition. For Cam
eron was not among them.
And then a chill fear gripped me.
Could a man of his habits and train
ing, suddenly called upoiT to assume
such labor, survive Its rigors? He was
naturally robust, but he bad been
weakened by an illness. Might he not ,
therefore have succumbed to the
strain, died, and been buried at sea?
But one consideration sustained mo.
In their cunning cruelty, the Chinese
who had arranged for his transporta
tion must have stipulated that he be
delivered in China alive. Otherwise j
their vengeance would not be com- |
plete. It was not likely that anything
had been left to mere chance. Tbe
probabilities were that Murchison
knew definitely what was required of
him and was to be well paid for his
services.
Upon his seamed face, now, there
was something of a sneer r,3, our
aminatiou concluded, he said:
"What next, Mr. Hartley?”
But for a moment Hartley, who
was standing thoughtfully with brow
contracted, his lower lip gripped be
tween finger and thumb, made no re
sponse. Before he spoke his attitude
changed. Quickly he had assumed a
pose of listening intentness. Behind
us, somewhere, a clamor had arisen.
Voices, excited, hoarse, fremescent.
yet muffled by distance, echoed dully.
"That man, next, Captain,” he said*
coolly. “The man they’re tryisg to
keep below.”
it may have been that his hearing
was more acute than mine, or it may
only have been a guess. I don’t know.
But. whichever it was, it hit the mark.
It scored a bull’s eye at long range.
Captain Murchison’s Indifference
gave way instantly to palpable uneasl- |
ness. His hands, which had been j
deep in his coat pockets, came out as '
though jerked by springs. One of j
them canted his cap from his brow to ;
his crown and the oth^r clutched agi
tatedly at his beard. And in that mo- :
ment tbe riot advanced, the voices '
waxed louder and more distinct; seur- '
rying feet resounded on the metal deck. |
i saw me captain start nurriedly i
toward the starboard rail, intent evi
dently on meeting the rabble which
was approaching on that side, and I
saw Hartley boldly block his way.
And then, almost at the same instant.
I saw a tall figure with naked torso
as black and shining as polished ebony
—black with grime and shining with ;
sweat—come running backward
around the corner of the deck house. ;
Saw it with an iron bar held menac
ingly aloft against Its pressing pur- j
suers; and even in the uncertain light
of the deck lanterns, recognized it at
cnee, by its outline and the character
istic set of its head upon its shoul
ders, nude to the waist and coilied as
it was, as the figure of the man I
sought.
•‘Cameron!" 1 cried, chokingly, my
fast-beating heart crowding my utter
ance. And all unmindful of the dirt
which covered him I flung my arms
about his waist from behind'. “Cam
eron! Cameron! Thank God! Thank
God!”
I heard the iron bar drop resound
ingly to the deck; I heard Hartley's
voice raised in anger, strident, stac
cato; and I heard the receding shuffle
of feet as those who had pursued now
backed away. There followed then a
moment of silence, while the body I
had held twisted out of my arms, and
having released itself, turned and
faced me—a moment of silence, only,
for against the sudden stillness there
now rang out a weird, palpitant cry,
born of surcharged emotion, as Cam
eron, casting himself forward into my
arms, buried his face in the angle of
my neck and shoulder.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A Final Problem.
It is doubtful whether in ail Egypt
there was ever such another period of
joyous thanksgiving as that which fcl
lowed the bringing of Cameron to the
little hotel In Port Said. I am in
clined to question, too, whether in the
space of a single waking day four per
sons ever talked more, or with more
mutual interest, than did the four of
us there gathered. The heat, the flies,
the poor food, and the miserable ac
comodations. generally, were not
merely gladly tolerated, but absolutely
disregarded. In the exuberance of our
rejoicing, annoyances which had
loomed large on the preceding day
dwindled to the imperceivable; and
from early morning until late night ex
periences were exchanged, adventures
told and speculations indulged in.
Washed, scrubbed, shaved, shorn
and clad in raiment put at his disposal
by the indefatigable Hartley, Cameron
appeared wonderfully well-looking. In
deed I was amazed by his appearance
and by his condition. I had feared to
find him a mental and physical ruin.
I had feared even for his life. And
he had come to us, if we might judge
by outward seeming, stronger, more
robust, less nervously relaxed than
when he disappeared.
“At first,” he told us, as we sat at
breakfast in a little upper room of the
hotel, Evelyn close on his right. Dr.
Addison at his left, and I opposite
him. "1 suppose I did suffer, whenever
1 was conscious, which, fortunately, I
think, was comparatively seldom. :
They dosed me almost continuously
with what I believe to have been some !
attribute of opium, so that even in my |
waking moments I was not wholly nor
mal. In this way, of*course. I lost all
count of time. And so, too, I am un- j
able to give events in sequence. My i
first conscious moment after being on
the deck of the Sibylla found me
strapped in a narrow berth on a rapid, j
but rather rough-riding craft of appar- j
entlv much smaller dimension than
the yacht, and with a Chinese boy sit
ting beside me. You can fancy my j
startled amazement at the sudden
transition. In vain I asked questions. |
In vain 1 struggled to rise. Then I
shouted,’ and the Chinese boy lighted
what appeared to be an ordinary joss
stick on a stand at the head of my
berth, and withdrew from the tiny
cabin. Insensibility followed quickly.
After that I have a vague, dreamy
recollection of eating something with j
a strange, spicy flavor, which seemed j
only to add to my, stupor. Once ij
dreamed—at least I think it must have j
been a dream—that I was in a dark
box, so cramped that my bones ached, J
and that far away above me were lit- |
lie holes through which the light '
came in luminous fan-like rays that j
glowed against the black.”
“I’m inclined to think it was no
dream,” I put in. recalling the news
paper story 1 had read in my broker's
office, in Wall street. “The probabili
ties are that you were shipped in
that box from Fall River to New York,
and a certain influential Chinaman,
called Yup Sing, knew all about it.”
“It’s quite possible,” Cameron went i
on. ”1 know that it was very difficult i
to distinguish, in those days, between j
dreams and realities. Eventually, how- 1
ever. I awoke to find myself on the |
Glamorganshire, quartered with the !
men in the forecastle, a beard well
grown and my clothes the coarsest
sort of mariner's outfit. For a while
I was far too ill for labor. The reac
tion from the drugs which had been
administered caused me the keenest
suffering. But, gradually, I came
about, and was set to work with paint
pot and brush. The humanity shown
me at this time was surprising. I
couldn’t comprehend it. But 1 realized
eventually that my strength was being
fostered for future torment.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Made Good “Ad” After AM
_ 1
Comment of Physician Seems to Con
tain a Reflection on the Curios
ity of the Woman.
Physicians as a rule are strongly op
posed to published advertising. This
aversion is tounded on an old rule of
medical ethics and is carried to the
extreme of making a doctor who
breaks it an object of suspicion in the
eyes of his fellow practitioners.
Apropos of this, is the story which
Dr. W. H. Hill told on himself, the
other day.
"My wife got me Into an awful fix,”
Dr. Hill declared. "You see. she was
one of the women appointed or elected
at her church to solicit advertising for
a benefit cook book. She knew noth
ing of what a cripm it is for a physi
cian to break into print and merely'
to show that her heart was in the
cause, inserted my card with those of
merchants, dyers and cleaners and
others. When the book came out, Mrs.
Hill brought me the first copy off the
press and proudly pointed out my ad
vertisement I will admit that I was
somewhat excited. I went immediate
ly to the publishing house and for a
consideration got him to paste a white
piece of paper over the space allotted
to me in every book. When I re
turned home I was immensely satis
fied with my forethought and my sac
rifice to^ the proper thing in practice.
Witness what happened a day or two
later.
“I met a friend In the profession on
L
the street and he began to smile when '
he saw me.
“Well, what tickles you?” I inquired. '
“ '1 will have to five it to you, you
are mighty clever,' the doc said ban
teringly. ‘The idea of pasting a blank
slip over your ad so the women of
your church would be bound to sec
it!’”—Kansas City Journal.
Instructions for Farmers.
Farmers in the United States are re
ceiving instruction in efficiency meth
ods on the farm through no fewer
than eleven main agencies. These
agencies, according to a publication
just issued, f6r free distribution by
the bureau, are elementary and sec
ondary schools and agricultural high
schools; country schools of agricul
ture; traveling schools teaching the
same pursuit; farmers’ educational
trains; farmers’ institutes; agricul
tural clubs and like organizations;
gardens for city schools; normal
schools of agriculture, and colleges of
agriculture.—La Follette’s Magazine.
Money From Waste Material.
There are harvests of the streets
as well as the fields. The experience
of the corporation of London is that
"many a mickle makes a muckle."
Last year more than $2,365 was real
ized by the sale of waste paper found
in the streets, $695 by the sale of old
tins found among the refuse, and
$1,900 from the disposal of the refuse
from orderly bins.
, _._, - ■ v
Has Caught Fancy of Paris—
The One-Piece Walking Suit
. 'V
Or.e-piece walking suit of copper-colored charmeuse with narrow lace
collar.
HOW TO WHITEN THE THROAT
Lemon Juice or a Ripe Tomato Will
RemO"» Anv Disro'cratiorw—
Alcohol to Harden.
Shapeliness is not all that is neces
sary to the making of a throat beauti
ful. The texture of the skin must be
fine and soft, white and unblemished.
Cleanliness is the first essentia!. A
good thorough scrubbing with a not too
soft brush, hot water and soap, once or
twice a week, will do no harm, the rest
Df the time using the ordinary cloth.
Apply lemon juice or a ripe tomato to.
any discolorations that may appear,
and unless the pores are enlarged,
use cold cream freely.
Alcohol will harden the flesh. As
for the various bleaches, there are
some that are harmless, except insofar
as they invariably are drying, which
ultimately leaves the skin harsh and
brash. Here is one that can easily be
made at home, but. like the others, it
is drying, so be sure to counteract this
effect by applying cold cream after
using it. Mix half an ounce of perox
ide of hydrogen, six ounces of witch
hazel and half an ounce of lactic acid.
Apply this with a soft cloth.
DAINTY SUMMER DRESS.
A summer dress of white lace em-1
broidered in yellow with underskirt
of white charmeuse. Belt of yellow
taffeta.
i -
Wardrobe Box.
A space saver is the wardrobe box
which fits under the bed. This box
is suspended from two metal arms, or
bars, which are affixed to the bed.
This makes it possible to draw the
bqx in and out without trouble. The
box' does not touch the floor, so
there is no possibility of dust accumu
lating under it, and the bed, with the
box in position, may be moved at will.
The boxes, which are provided with
hinged covers, come in different sizes
and are designed for different pur
poses.
MUST BE HAND EMBROIDERED
The Proper Thing for Both White and
Colored Linen Parasols—Wide
Variety of Designs.
White and colored linen parasols
show hand embroidery. They are
mounted with ivory or bone handles
and tips or with light natural or pol
ished wood handles and brass-pointed
tips. Some of them are finished about
the edge with fringe, some with a plain
hem and some with an embroidered
scallop. A wade variety of* designs is
i shown in embftiidered parasols. Satin
stitch, eyelet work and outlining are
used in combination to produce both
ornate and simple effects. Almost all
parasols are made with eight panels,
and half a dozen skeins of cotton are
needed for embroidering each panel
with a design of moderate size; five
or six dozen skeins, therefore, would
be sufficient for any parasol. The big
department stores make up the em
broidered panels into parasols and sell
sticks and frames.
FLOWERS THAT MATCH FROCK
One of the Prettiest Fancies of Many
Seasons Is the Adornment
Thus Effected.
What a real pleasure women missed
when they were too prim to tuck a
bunch of flowers into their frocks, or
too, fearful lest the stalks should stain
their pretty raiment.
Nowadays flowers are the finishing
touch of every toilette, and some wom
en give orders to their florists or their
gardeners for a bouquet twice or thrice
a day to match the gowns they intend
to wear.
In the evening it is usual to wear a
single and very exquisite blossom, the
work of human hands. A giant rose, a
mammoth poppy, an orchid—all are
popular. Strange fantasies in mater
ial are employed; here a lace flower
tipped with fur, and there one made of
hand painted mousseline, a marvelous
copy of nature’s own handiwork.
Lace Blouses.
Lace will be a feature of the coming
summer, and the heavy lace blouse
will be once more Indispensable. For
some time cluny, Irish point, and
Bruges have been neglected, and now
they are to be revived; not in pure
white, but to a deep ochre tint. I
have seen one In a combination of
Irish and cluny made in kimbno fash
ion, with the sleeves half way down
the arm in black satin. These sleeves
do not reach much beyond the elbow,
and the Introduction of the black satin
near the skin gives a new touch to
the lace blouse. A slim white throat
looks welt uncovered, and the new
blouses are made without collar
bands, as were most of the bodices
last winter. But where the throat is
marked, it as as well to cover It with
transparent net.
Crepe Waists.
A college girl who wore cotton crepe
waists to save her laundry bills, had
difficulty in rendering them wearable
at first, as they were too limp If not
starched at all and, If starched, wring
ing them made the starch uneven,
says the Modern Priscilla. She ex
perimented until she found that by
washing them in thin starch and hang
ing them up to drain on a coat hang- v
er, without wringing, they were ex
actly right.
Cromwell Collar.
The Cromwell is the name given tc
a linen collar which is mounted on an
upstanding band. The collar falls over
the 'band. It is trimmed on one side ^
with linen-covered buttons, while but
tonholes are worked at corresponding
places on the other side of the collar.
