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SYNOPSIS.
The story opens with Jesse Smith re
fating the story of his birth, early life In
Labrador and of the death of his father.
Jesse becomes a sailor. His mother mar
ries the master of the ship and both are
lost In the wreck of the vessel. Jesse
becomes a cowboy In Texas. He marries
Polly, a singer of questionable morals,
who later is reported to have committed
suicide.
CHAPTER V.-^Continued.
And I found wealth. Seems there’s
taany persons mistaking dollars for
some sort of wealth. I’ve had a few
at times by way of samples, the things
which you’re apt to be selfish with,
or give away to buy self-righteousness.
Reckoning with them projuces the
feeliug called poverty. They’re the
very stuff and substance of meanness,
and no man walks straight-loaded.
Dollars gets lost, or throwed away,
or left to your next of kin, but they're
not a good and lasting possession. I
like ’em, too.
I found peace, I found wealth, yes,
and found something more thar in the
wilderness. Sweet as the cactus for
est in blossom down Salt River is
that big memory.
It was after I’d found the things
of happy solitude. I’d gone to work
then for the Bar Y outfit, breaking
the Lightning colts. We was out a
few weeks from home, taking an out
fit of ponies as far as the Mesa Abaho,
and one night camped at the very rim
rock of the Grand Canyon. The Na
vajo Indians was peevish, the camp
dry, grass scant, herd in a raffish
mood, and night come sudden.
I’d just relieved a man to get his
supper, and rode herd, wide alert. I
scented the camp Bmoke, saw the
spark of fire glow on the boys at rest,
and heard their peaceful talk hushed
In the big night. They seemed 6ucb
triflin’ critters full of fuss since dawn,
so small as insects at the edge of
nothin', while for miles beneath us
that old, old wolfy Colorado River was
playing the Grand Canyon like a fid
dler. But the river in the canyon
seemed no more than trickle in a
crack, hushed by the night, while over
head the mighty blazing stars—point,
swing, and drive, rode herd on the
milky way. And that seemed no more
than cow-boys driving stock. Would
God turn His head to see His star
herds pass, or notice our earth like
some lame calf halting in the rear?
And what am I, then?
That was my great lesson, more
gain to me than peace and wealth of
mind, for I was humbled to the dust
of earth, below that dust of stars So
a very humble thing, not worth pray
ing for, at least I could be master of
myself. I rode no more for wages, but
cut out my ponies from the Lightning
herd, mounted my stud horse William,
told the boys goodby at Montecello,
and then rode slowly north into the
British possessions. So I come at last
to this place, an old abandoned ranch.
There’s none so poor in dollars as to
envy ragged Jesse, or rich enougn to
want to rob my home. They say
there’s hidden wealth whar the rain
bow goes to earth—that’s whar I live
PART TWO
CHAPTER I.
Two Ships at Anchor.
Kate's Narrative.
My horse was hungry, and wanted
to get back to the ranch. I was hun
gry too, but dared not go. I had left
my husband lying drunk on the kit
chen floor, and when he woke up it
would be worse than that
For miles I had followed the edge
of the bench lands, searching for the
place, for the right place, some point
where the rocks went sheer, twelve
hundred feet Into the river. There
must be nothing to break the fall, no
risk of being alive, of being taken
back there, of keeing him again. But
the edge was never sheer, and per
haps, after all, the place by the Soda
Spring was best. There the trail from
the ranch goes at a eharp turn, over
the edge of the cllfTs and down to the
ferry. Beyond there are three great
pines on a headland, and the cliff is
sheer for at least five hundred feet.
That should be far enough.
I let my horse have a drink at the
sprihg, then we went slowly on over
the soundless carpet of pine needles.
I would leave my horse at the pines.
Somebody was there. Four laden
pack-ponies stood in the, shade of the
trees, switching their tails to drive
away the flies. A fifth, a buckskin
mare, unloaded, with a bandaged leg.
stood in the sunlight Behind the
nearest tree a man was speaking. I
reined my horse. “Now you, Jones."
he was saying to the injured beast,
“you take yo’self too serious. You
ain’t goin’ to Heaven? No! Then
why pack yo’ bag? Why fuss?”
I had some silly idea that the man,
if he discovered me, would know what
business brought me to this headland.
I held my breath.
His slow, delicious, Texan drawl
made me smile. I did not want to
smile. The mare, a very picture of
misery, lifted her bandaged, frightfully
swollen leg. and hobbled into the
shade. I did not want to laugh, but
why was she called Jones? She
looked just like a Jones.
“The inquirin’ mind,” said the man
behind the tree, “has gawn surely
astray from business, or you’d have
know’d that rattlers smells of snake.
Then I asks—why paw?”
The mare, with her legs all
astraddle, snorted in his face.
“Sugar is it? Why didn’t you say
so befo'?”
Jones turned her good eye on the
man as though she had just discovered
his existence, hobbled briskly after
him while he dug in his kitchen boxes,
made first grab at the eugar bag, and
got her face slapped. The man, always
with his eye upon the mare, returned
to his place, and sat on his heel as be
fore. “Three lumps,” he said, hold
ing them one by one to be snatched.
“You’re acting sort of convalescent,
Jones. No more sugar. And don't
be a hawg!”
The mare was kissing his face.
“Back of all! Back water! Thar
now, thank the lady behind me!”
And I had imagined my presence
still unknown.
“How on earth,” I gasped, "did you
know- I was here?”
The man's eyes were still intent
upon the wounded mare. “Wall, Mrs.
Trevor,” he drawled.
“You know my najpe? Your back
has been turned the whole time!
You’ve never seen me in your life—
at least I’ve never seen you!”
“That’s so,” he answered thought
fully. “I don’t need tellin’ the sound
of that colt yo’ husband bought from
me. As to the squeak of a lady’s pig
skin saddle, thar ain’t no other lady
rider short of a hundred and eighty
three and a half miles.”
What manner of man could this be?
My colt was drawing toward him all
the time as though a magnet pulled.
He stood facing me, the bag still In
his hand, and my colt asking pointed
ly for sugar. Very tall, gaunt, deeply
tanned, nerhaps twenty-five years of
age, he Seemed to me immeasurably
old, so deeply lined was his face. And
yet it was the face of one at peace. I
had been away since daybreak, and
now the sun was entering the west.
As to my purpose, that I felt could
wait.
So I sat under the pines, pretending
to nurse Jones while the shadows
lengthened over the tawny grass, and
orange needles flecked fields of rock,
out to the edge of the headland.
The man unsaddled my horse, un
loaded his ponies, fetched water from
the spring of natural Apollinaris, but
when, coming back, he found me light
ing a fire, he begged me to desist, to
rest while he made dinner. And I
was glad to rest, thinking about the
peace beyond the edge of the head
land. Yet it was interesting to see
how a man keeps house in the wilder
ness, and how different are his ways
from those of a woman. No housewife
could have been more daintily clean,
or shown a swifter skill, or half the
silent ea6e with which this woodsman
made the table-ware for one, enough
to serve two people. But a woman
would not clean a frying-pan by burn
ing it and throwing on cold water. He
sprinkled flour on a ground sheet,
and made dough without wetting the
canvas. Would I like bread, or slap
jacks, or a pie? He made a loaf of
bread, in a frying pan set on edge
among glowing coals, and, wondering
how a pie could possibly happen with
out the assistance of an oven, I forgot
all about that cliff.
The thing I had intended was a
crime, 1 and conscience-stricken, I
dreaded lest he should speak. I could
not bear that. Already his camp was
cleaned and in order, his pipe filled
and alight, at any moment he might
break the restful silence. That’s why
I spoke, and at random, asking if he
were not lrom the United States.
His eyes said plainly, “So that’s the
game, eh?” His broad smile said,
“Well, we’ll play.” He sat down.
^ — —— — — — — — — — —_—__ _ _ _
cross-legged. “Yes,” he answered, ‘Tin
an American citizen, except,” he added
softly, “on election days, and then,”
he cocked up one shrewd eye, “I’m
sort of British. Canadian? No, I
cayn’t claim that either, coming from
the Labrador, for that's Newf’nland, a
day’s march nearer home.
“Say, Mrs. Trevor, you don’t know
my name yet. It’s Smith, and with
my friends I’m mostly Jesse."
"If you please, may I be one of your
friends?”
“If I behave good, you may. No
harm in my trying."
The moment Jesse Smith had given
me his name, I knew him well by rep
utation. Comment® by Surly Brown,
the ferryman, and my husband’s bitter
hatred had outlined a dangerous char
acter. Nobody else lived within a
day’s Journey.
“That’s my home,” said Jesse. “D’ye
see a dim trail jags down that upper
cliff? That’s whar I drifted my ponies
down when I came from the States.
I didn’t know of the wagon road from
Hundred Mile House to the ferry,
which runs by the north end of my
ranch.”
"And the tremendous grandeur of
the place?”
“Hum. I'don’t claim to have been
knocked all in a heap with the scen
ery. No. What took holt of me good
and hard w'as the company—a silver
top b’ar and hi® missus, both thou
sand pounders, with their three young
ladies, now mar’led and settled beyond
the sky-line. There’s two couples of
prime eagles still camp® along thar
by South Cave. The timber wolf I
trimmed out because he wasted around
like a remittance man. Thar was a
stallion and his harem, this yere fool
Jones bein’ one of his young mares.
Beside® that, there was heaps of 111*
friendly folks In fur, hair, and feath
ers. Yes/'I have been right to home
since I located.”
"But grizzly bears? How frightful!”
“Yes. They was frightened at first
The coarse treatment they gets from
hunters, makes them sort of bashful
with any stranger.”
"But the greatest hunters are afraid
of them.”
"The biggest criminals ha® got most
scare at police. B’ars has no use for
sportsmen, nor me neither. My rifle’s
heaps fiercer than any b’ar, and I’ve
chased more sportsmen than I has
grizzlies.”
‘"Wasn’t Mr. Trevor one of them?”
Jesse grinned.
"Toll me,” I said, for the other side
of the etory must be worth hearing.
“Wall, Mr. Trevor took out a sum
ming agin me for chasing him off my
mi- — — . Ill— —■ -
“Sugar, la It? Why Didn’t Ye Say
So Before?”
ranch. He got fined for having no gun
license, and no dawg license, and not
paying his poll-tax, and Cap Taylor
bound him over to keep the peace. I
ain’t popular now with Mr. Trevor,
whereas he got off cheap. Now, if
them b’ars could shoot—"
I hadn’t thought of that. “Can they
be tamed?" 1 asked.
“Men can be gentled, and they needs
taming most. Thar was three grlrxlies
sort of adopted a party by the name
of Capen Adams, and camped ana
traveled with him most familiar. Once
them four vagrants promenaded on
Market Street in ’Frisco. Not that I
holds with this Adams in misleading
his b’ars among man-smell so strong
and distrackful to their peace of mind.
But still I reckon Capen Adams and
me sort of takes after each other. I'm
only attractive to animals.” r
LEFT YOUNG MOTHER GASPING
Mrs. O’Leary’s Well-Meant Words of
Compassion Contained a Meaning
That Shocked.
There are still two opinions con
cerning red hair. She was a very
proud young mother. All the old mas
ters had never painted such a bam
bino, had never imagined such a cher
ub as hers. Quite simply she t be
lieved it And the baby's hair was red
It did not occur to her that red hair
was anything but completely and whol
ly admirable. The little shining cop
per colored bead seemed to her the
sum of all that was radiant and love
ly
“I’ve come for the baby’s wash,
ma'am.”
It was Mrs. O’Leary, the washer
woman.—a rawboned, dejected soul—
who spoke. Evidently there was tor
ber no inexpressible glory shining
amid the Blue and white draperies of
a bassinet How hard the world was
on some women 1 So thought the
young mother and proudly drew back
the cover from the baby’s nest
, ■ '1 j.m rf.,' * . tmthif t *
"Come and look at my little daugh
ter," she said. "See, she has red
hair."
A flash of some strong feeling—
could it be compassion?—illumined
the dejected features of Mrs. O'Leary.
The proud young mother felt her
hand gripped in a grasp of iron, and
a warm Irish voice sounded in her
ears.
“There, there.” It said soothingly.
"Don’t you fret Don’t you fret You
can't never tell what they look like
when they're email. Some of ’em
grows up,into real good lookin' fcirls.
They do that!"
Children of Palestine at Play.
In Palestine, as always, children’s
play is mostly “making believe” that
they are grown up. You may see a
mite of live or six paying a visit of
ceremony to a pasha or equally tender
years, exchanging such compliments
with him as “Rest I pray yon!” “Nay,
he who sees you is rested," and fin
ally backing out of his presence while
he gathers up handfuls of dust and
sprinkles it on bis head. Holding a
i taw court with melon seeds to repre
•f . '■ -*.v! ■ lass. • T* ' ‘ * - i,-' £
sent the bribes, is a popular game, and
so is a raid of fierce men from the
desert The selling of Joseph and his
subsequent interviews with his breth
ren are rendered with much dramatic
action; also the afflictions of the men
of Uz, with new details, such as Job’s
wife cutting oft her hair and selling it
for bread. “Doing bride" is naturally
the chief amusement of the Moslem
girl, as it Is the one great event of
her later life.
Decries National Sport
Dr. Sargent the Harvard physical
culture expert is said to regard at
tendance at baseball games as a harm
ful pastime, because it stimulates the
nerves without furnishing a "motor
outlet”—that Is, speaking psycholog
ically, and not referring to a joy ride.
He says that the case is the same
as that of the overstimulated play
goer. Apparently he thini« that
there was less harm in the game of
baseball as played in the leisurely
days of old, when two and two and
a half hours elapsed between the mo
ment 'the umpire called "Play!” and
the time the last man was out
“Oh, surely!” I laughed.
But Jesse became quite dismal. "I’m
not reckoned,” he bemoaned himself,
“among the popular attractions. The
neighbors shies at coming near my
ranch.”
“Well, if you protect grizzlies and
hunt sportsmen; surely it’s not surpris
ing."
“Can’t please all parties, eh? Wall,
perhaps that’s how the herd is graz
ing. Yes. Come to think of it, I re
member oncet a Smithsonian grave
robber comes to inspeck South Cave.
He said I’d tot a bone yard of ancient
people, and he’d rob graves to find
out all about them olden times. He
wanted to catch the atmosphere of
them days, so I sort of helped. Rob
bing graves ain’t exactly a holy voca
tion, the party had a mean eye, a Ger
man name, and a sort of patronizing
manner, but still I helped around to
get him atmosphere, me and Eph.”
“Who's Eph?”
Oh. he’s just a silver-tip, what sci
entific parties calls ursus horribilis
ord. You just cast your eye whar the
trickle stream falls below my cabin.
D’ye see them sarvis berry bushes
down below the spray?”
“Where the bushes are waving? Oh,
look, there’s a gigantic grizzly stand
ing up, and pulling the branches!”
“Yes, that's Eph.
“Well, as I was tellin’ you, Eph and
me is helping this scientific person to
get the atmosphere of them ancient
times."
“But the poor man would die of
fright!"
"Too busy running. When he reached
Vancouver, he was surely a cripple
though, and no more use to science.
Shall I call Eph?”
“I think not to-day,” said I, hurriedly
rising, “for indeed I should be getting
home at once.”
Without ever touching the wound,
he had given me the courage to live,
had made my behavior of the morning
seem that of a silly schoolgirl; but
still I did not feel quite up to a social
introduction. I said I was sure that
Eph and I would have no interests in
common.
“So you’ll go home and face the mu
sic?” said Jesse’s wise old eyes.
“My husband,” said I, “will be get
ting quite anxious about me.”
Without a word he brought my
horse and saddled him.
And I, with a sinking heart, con
trasted the loneliness and the horror
which was called my “home” with all
the glamour of this man’s happy soli
tude.
He held the etirrup for ine to mount,
offered his hand.
“Do you never get hungry,” I asked,
"for what’s beyond the horizon?”
He sighed with sheer relief, then
turned, his eyes seeing infinite dis
tances. “Why, yes! That country
beyond the sky-line’s always calling.
Thar’s something I want away ofT, and
I don’t know what I want."
“That land beyond the sky-line's
called romance.”
He clenched hie teeth. "What does
a ship want when she strains at an
chor? What she wants is drift. And
I’m at anchor because I’ve sworn off
drift.”
At that we parted, and I went slow
ly homeward, up to my anchor. Dear
God! If I might drift!
CHAPTER II.
The Trevor Accident.
N. B.—Mr. Smith, while living alone,
had a habit of writing long letters to
his mother. After his mother’s death
the habit continued, but as the let
ters could not be sent by mail, and
to post them in the stove seemed to
suggest unpleasant ideas, they were
stowed in his saddle wallets.
Dear Mother in Heaven:
There’s been good money in this
here packing contract, and the wad in
my belt-pouch has been growing till
Doctor McGee suspecks a tumor. He
thinks I’ll let him operate, and sure
enough that would reduce the swell
ing.
Once a week I take my little pack
outfit up to the Sky-line claim for a
load of peacock copper. It runs three
hundred dollars to the ton in horn
silver, and looks more like jewels than
mineral. Iron Dale’s cook, Mrs. Jub
bin, rune to more species of pies and
cake than even Hundred Mile house,
and after dinner I get a rim-fire cigar
which pops like a cracker, while 1 sit
in front of the scenery and taste the
breath of the snow mountains. Then
I load the ponies, collects Mick out
of the cook house, which he’s partial
GOT HIS “THINK-TANK” GOING
Mexican Farmer*Proved He Was Ca
pable of Invention When Object
Was to Save Labor.
That the Mexican farmer is not the
slow-thinking, lazy person the average
stranger imagines is illustrated by an
ingeniously devised well constructed
by a fanner living near a little town
just across the boundary line. The
natives seldom go far away from their
homes and they have very primitive
ideas and customs. This well is about
50 feet deep and the owner has built
a curious device for hauling water
from 1L If this Mexican had been an
educated man he might have been an
inventor.
A tree flourished near the well
which had two branches growing ont
of the trank. These boughs separated
into four branches higher up. The
Mexican cut the branches in such a
way that they formed a perfect rest
for a long well sweep. He fastened
the sweep to a crossbar laid across
, the two upper branches In the middle.
; using stoat thongs for the purpose.
Then he fastened a weight on one
end of the sweep and a long rope to
the other end. The bucket is fastened
to the end of this long rope, and all he
hfis to do is to lower the buckets into
the well. The weight of the stone pulls
it up again, brimming full.
Got the Wrong Dish.
Jones seldom gets home in time to
eat dinner with his family because the
press of his work keeps him at bis
desk until long after everybody else
has left the bnilding. Mrs. Jones al
ways puts his dinner in the oven,
where he finds it when be arrives.
One night he reached home after
the family had gone to bed, and found
his dinner on top of the stove. Next
morning his wife opened the oven and
discovered that the food she had left
for him had not been touched.
“Why, John! Didn’t you eat your
dinner last night?” she asked.
“My dear,” he replied. ‘1 did, and
enjoyed it very much, but you made
a mistake and left it on top of the
stove.”
“Good heavens!” she cried. “That
was the dog’s supper!”
to for bones, iron slings me the uuriV
pouch, and I hits the trail. I aim to
make good bush grass in the yellow
pines by dusk, and the second day
brings me down to Brown’s Perry,
three miles short of my home. From
the ferry there’s a good road in win
ter to Hundred Mile House, so I tote
the cargoes over there by sleigh.
There my contract ends, because Tear
ful George takes on with his string
team down to the railroad. I’d have
that contract, too, only Tearful is a
low-lived sort of a person, which can
feed for a dollar a week, whereas
when I get down to the railroad'I’m
more expensive.
Your affectionate son, JESSE.
Rain-storm coming.
P. S.—Yes, it’s a good life, and I
don’t envy no man. Still it made me
sort of thoughtful last time as I swung
along with that Jones mare snuggling
at my wrist, little Mick snapping rear
heels astern, and the sun just scorch
ing down among the pines. Women is
infrequent, and spite of all my expe
riences with the late Mrs. Smith—
most fortunate deceased, life ain’t all
complete without a mate. It ain’t no
harm to any woman, mother, if I Just
varies off my trail to survey the sur
rounding stock.
Mrs. Jubbin passes herself off for
a'widow, and all the boys at the mine
take notice that she can cook. Apart
from that, she’s homely as a barb-wire
fence, and Bubbly Jock, her husband,
ain’t deceased to any great extent, be- |
ing due to finish his sentence along in
October, and handy besides with a
rifle.
Then of the three young ladies at
Eighty Mile, Sally is a sound proposi
tion, but numerously engaged to the
stage drivers and teamsters along the
Cariboo Road. Miss Wilth, the school
ma’am, keeps a widow mother with
tongue and teeth, so them as smells
the bait is ware of the trap. That’s
why Miss Wilth stays single. The
other girl is a no-account young per
son. Not that I’m the sort to shy at
a woman for squinting, the same being
quite persistent with sound morals,
but I hold that a person who
scratches herself at meals ain’t never
quite the lady. She should do it pri
vate.
There’s the W’idow O'Flynn on the
trail to Hundred Mile,—she’s harsh,
with a wooden limb. Besides she
wants to talk old times in Abilene. 1
don’t.
While I’ve mostly kep’ away from
the married ladies, and said “deliver
us from temptation” regular every
night, there was no harm as I came
along down, in being sorry for Mrs.
Trevor. Women are reckoned mighty
cute at reading men, but I’ve noticed
when I’ve struck the complete polecat,
that he’s usually married. So long as
a woman keeps her head she's wiser
than a man, but when she gets rattled
she’s a sure fool. She’ll keep her
head with the common run of men.
but when she strikes the all-round
stinker, like a horse runs into a fire,
she ups and marries him. Anyway,
Mrs. Trevor had got there.
Said to be Tuesday.
Trip before last was the first time
I seen this lady. Happens Jones reck
oned she’d been apptinted inspector
of snakes, so I’d had to lay off at the
spring, and Mrs. Trevor comes along
to get shut of her trouble. She's hun-'
gry; she ain’t had anything but her
prize hawg to speak to for weeks, and
she’s as curious as Mother Eve. any
way.
Surely my meat’s transparent by
the way her voice struck through
among my bones. If angels speak
like her I’d die to hear. She told me
nothin’, not one word about the
trouble that's killing her, but her
voice made me want to cry. If you’d
spoke like that when I was your pup
py. you’d a had no need of that old
slipper, mother.
’Cause I couldn't tear him away
from the beef bones, I’d left Mick up
at the Sky-line, or I’d ast that lady
to accept my dog. You see, he’d bite
Trevor all-right, wharas I has to diet
myself, and my menu is sort of com
plete. Still by the time she stayed
in camp, my talk may have done some
comfort to that poop woman. She
didn't know then that her trouble was
only goin’ to last another week.
You’d have laughed if you’d seen
Jones after she drank her fill of water
out of the bubbly spring, crowded
with soda bubbles. She just goes hie,
tittup, hie, down the trail, changing
steps as the hiccups jolted her poor
old ribs. The mare looked so blamed
funny that at first I didn’t notice the
tracks along the road.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Home Club for Domestics.
A home club for housemaids and
cooks for the purpose of providing do
mestics a home and a place to enter
tain. as well as channels of culture
and a special employment bureau, will
be established by the Friday Morning
club of Los Angeles. Much of the cul
tural work of the latter club will be
introduced here and a special employ,
ment bureau will be operated by the
clubwomen. Music and good books
will be supplied and the girls will be
expected to make the club a real
home, not only living there, but bring
ing their friends there to entertain
them.
Prevailing Styles in the New Shoes.
EVERY season finds women more
exacting in the matter of foot
wear. Shoes and stockings must be
faultless for the well dressed and up
to-date Member of modern society,
whether she be a devotee of fashion,
or engaged in business or simply de
voting her time to the business of be
ing a woman.
The styles now prevailing and those
just preceding them have brought the
fact into prominence. It is not the
fashion to conceal them, but to clothe
them daintily and set the flimsiest of
draperies about them. Lace and chif
fon petticoat, slashed skirts and in
hangipg draperies all bespeak atten
tion to fine footwear.
For general wear a neat looking, in
conspicuous shoe all of leather, or of
leather and cloth, should be chosen.
Perfect fit and neat finish are the
matters of importance for shoes to be
worn for shopping, traveling and gen
eral utility. Two pairs are more econ
omical than one, if such shoes are
worn every day, and one should alter
nate them. They are easily kept in
commission in this way. One pair
dressed and on the shoe tree stands
always in readiness. Properly cleaned
and aired and polished, they will pay
for the attention with long service.
For dressier wear in the winter
there is the shoe with patent calf
vamp and brocaded silk top in black.
This is an elegant shoe with any visit
ing or dinner gown except the most
brilliant of opera or ball gowns. The
same vamp with plain black cloth top
puts the shoe in another class where
[ it is appropriate for the demi-toilet ot
the tailor-made.
Elegant and more showy shoes are
] shown with patent vamp and gray
! buckskin top, and others with patent
1 vamp and tops in shepherd check or
in cloth or suede leather matching a
gown in color. These made-to-match
shoes are effective, but not essential
to a proper shoe outfitting for the av
erage woman.
For evening dress there is a variety
in slippers to choose from. Black satin
with a French heel is a great favorite.
The range of ornamentation for the
toes of evening slippers i$ quite wide
also.
In black or bronze there is the
strapped slipper with bead embroid
ery. It is a graceful shoe and a fine
choice for those who need only one
pair of slippers with which to look the
season’s full dress occasions in the
face. It is dressy enough for any
wear.
The price of good shoes has ad
vanced because the materials of which
the; are made cost, more than they
have heretofore. There is no economy
in buying cheap shoes. The expendi
ture at the end of a year will be
greater if one keeps the feet respecta
bly clothed, if cheap shoes are bought
than if the better grades are worn. If
one must economize let it be in some
other direction and not in the matter
of footwear. Quality cannot be sacri
ficed here without of a certainty in
volving both economy and comfort in
the end. *
JULIA BOTTOMLEY.
COIFFURE AND
HAIR ORNAMENT
MOST EFFECTIVE
THE very attractive and becoming
coiffure pictured here belongs to the
class described as the “Casque" coif
fure. All the hair is waved and
combed to the nape of the neck and
the crown of the head at the back.
There is the shallowest of parts at the
front with the hair at each side
brought down over the ears, wholly
concealing them.
To make this hairdress the hair
must be parted off all around the
crown of the head, and waved. That
which is left on the crown is to be
laid in a flat coil at the back and pin
ned down securely. All the remainder
(except the lock left at the middle of
the forehead) is to be drawn loosely
back to the coil and over it. The
hair at the nape of the neck is first
brought up and the ends tucked under
the coil or pinned around it The ends
of the front and side hair are then
disposed of in the same way.
Thehnhe lock at the middle of the
forehead is parted and brought down
at each side over the ears to the nape
of the neck. The ends (the lock be
ing light) are tucked under the waved
hair covering the coil and pinned into
place with invisible pins.
A light fringe of hair curled in flat,
short ringlets, is cut across the fore
head in a line more or less curved or
straight, as best becomes the wearer.
These ringlets must be flattened to
the head to preserve the correct lines
In this coiffure. This may be done by
tying them down with a light veil for
a few minutes.
The coiffure is finished with an or
namented band and single, curling
spray of Paradise. The band in this
costume is made of flat jade beads
matching those worn with the cos
tume about the neck. But there are
Innumerable bands, those of black
ganze or velvet and rhinestones being
among the most effective.
The costume worn by the handsome
brunette is of black velvet and Bilver
embroidered net, with a skirt which
appears to wrap about the figure, ter
minating in a high waist line. The
rather scanty bodice is made of white
chiffon,. With a drapery of goesa
mer lace it would be much prettier
and more in keeping with American
ideas of modesty, which criticism is
made without apologies to the great
designer, who, with such wonderful
fabrics to work with, yet missed the
final finishing touch by placing a glori
ous skirt with an insignificant waist
on so splendid a model
The coiffure suits the style of the
wearer and her costume. It is one of
those that almost any one will find
becoming, except women with very
thin faces and necks. For them
there are other designs which soften
or conceal their defects.
JULIA BOTTOMLEY.
Slashed Petticoat.
We have had the "tango” gown;
now has descended upon us the "tan
go” petticoat. This latest addition to
the wardrobe of the fashionable wo
man is made of but two pieces, with
seams in the side, which, needless to
say, are open to a point just above the
knee. The front and back breadths of
the petticoat are scalloped, sloping
gradually up to the joining of the
seams at the knee. The garment in
this instance is edged with a plaited
ruffle of the silk of which the skirt it
made, but lace of almost any kind
would be nearly as effective. To regu
late the height of the skirt slashes on
each side of the openings there have
been sewn crocheted rings, through
which a lacing of ribbon is passed.
Worth Trying.
The recipe of a doctor for those whc
have suffered from blotchy complex
ions and fatigue is worth trying. For
two months, he advises, eat nothing
whatever for breakfast but fruit.
Do not eat again until luncheon
when you return to your ordinary fare
No tea, coffee or cocoa is permitted.
For heavy and obese women the
latest idea is that they should eat
very little of ordinary food, but sub
sist only on boiled fish, cold meat and
toast and of that sparingly, but of let
tuce as often and as much as they
like. If they can bear it, their break
fast and supper should be of lettuce
and lettuce alone.
All Shades of Gray.
Gray in all possible shades Is one of
the colors of the season. Pearl gray
is being most successfully combined
with white velvet and ermine for real
ly rich tea gowns; and a deep shade
of smoke gray is being very much used
for mantles in conjunction with bands
of smoke gray fox. All shades of rich
blue are in demand in such materials
as velours de laine and liberty cash
mere. Costumes in these materials are
trimmed with bands of sable or of
black fox. and the craze of the moment
seems to be for Chinese embroideries
of the finest description.
To Clean Silver.
Put a quarter of a pound of sal soda
into a gallon of water, place on stove
and let it come to a boil. While it la
boiling put in piece of silverware one
by one. Take out quickly and wash
in soap suds. Dry with a soft clean
cloth. This will remove all discolora
tion and the silverware will look as if
it were new. it will bo so bright. It
takes about a quarter of the time
used In polishing with silver polish.