WHmi I
LAKE CHELAN
<& E.W/>/cAarc7 JM
, -
. .US —
Haw* yea ever heard of Lake Che
Ua* !*> you knew where it ts or what
it is* Unless jo« hate lited or trav
eled is the northwestern part of the
United states. It is lea to one that
few ewM answer no
Vet Last Chelae Is one of the moat
ptc'ureagse hod lew of water in Amer
ica. and o«e of the moat interesting,
and its shores are Wing dotted with
the pres’-, summer home* of scores of
- resident* of Washington and
Orv*u*.
tasted almost la the center of the
»'i - f Unshicgtoa. this lair is slkty
■die* ion* and of an average w .dth
•f one mike and a half—so long and
narrow and winding that it has more
ih* appearance of a b.g river Us
depth .* almowl incredible, and its an
te r- .Aenished by glacial stream*,
are icy cukd and a* clear as crystal
Almost straight up from its surface its
shore* r *♦ to mounts n height and
w Wlow ’he water
*: ti i Was i» any Warh to be found.
To m ;-reseat time hake Chelan
has tot been easy of access, which
The L'tt e Lake Steamer.
iar*. • j -uetu for tfc- fact that it is
t- htllk uamt Wenatchee is the
!."-e"-e*t railway station. and from
there ot - moat go tome forty mile#
up ihe t iumhta. either on one of the
stern-wheel steamer* which carry pas
eci-per* end freight up and down that
fiver. or a aa automobile. The
steamer trip Is rather slow but de
ctdediy interesting tL-v-ra! times
't< • **»! must be pulbtd through rap
..r hi t: -ans of a*cable anchored to
the .: ... and the stop* are frequent
*t • t.-ver, indeed. a white rag on a
... disc en>> d on the bank Your
.and ug ;» trade at < 'heiac Fails, an in
I- qa« at ban.:* t and there you
take a seat la a four-horse roach It
is a ram*hackle old vehicle which
e> .-as# cm the point of breaking down.
Which it really does os occasion, but
• - it ; u will have a r.de to remem
ter -;u»!j it creeps up the steep
r ad i..%er the hills, skirting tremen
dous mvtee*. rounding huge boulders,
much of tie way following the Chelan
-,»■ r a tarluient stream which in its
short coarse of three mites from lake
to riser has a fall of 376 feet From
the mstrit the old stage driver makes
quick time down to the town of Chel
an so quirk -hat often your heart is
i ■ > ur mouth as the vehic le whirls
around sharp terns while the pebbles
threw® fn-ra the horses' hoofs rattle
it he rocks a couple of hundred fed
hdow.
Chela*, a progreaelTe little city, lies
at 'he * 4th end of the lake, and the
peaceful.,* t* autlful scenery gives you
no h.nt of the ragged grandeur that
« b*ra< teruag the body of water farth
er up Early m the morning you board
a ne*t til lie steamer or gasoline launch
and start on the voyage of explora
txna Gliding swiftly over water that
t* as beautifully blue as that of lb
»y of Naples, you soon come to a
land and there the prospect opens up
Os the right the Land Is still com para
lively low lying and is being planted
/ w
with fruit trees, but on the left the
bills quickly grow into mountains,
here tree-clad and beautiful. Again a
turn, and again the scene changes, for
now the heights become rugged and
steep, and immense clefts, straight as ;
■bough cur with a gigantic knife, sep- !
| arate them Down each of these clefts
tumble* a sparkling, roistering little
attract that from a distance looks
| like a thread of frosted silver. Dur
ing centuries of earnest efTort the larg
er of these streams have deposited at
the.r mouths little triangular patches
of gravelly soil, ard on almost every
pat -it some wise man has built an at
tractive summer residence and sur
rounded it with pretty trees and
shrubs To be sure, his front yard is ;
usually a t • ries of steps, and his kitch- '
cn garden is made on shelves, but j
that only adds to the charm.
The b ut t ow approaches the N'ar
•ive. where the mountains on each'
'. r *• -n to lean'toward each other
and their giant r elections almost fill
the bSc Kor the right bank now has ;
I !e me as precipitous as the left, and j
for some miles is an almost bare, '
-t.ep -lap. of peculiar formation hav
, '-g tie appearance of a bubbly, btl
iwy cascade of mud suddenly hard- I
i etied into stone.
In the background snow capped
peaks now appear. and the nearer sum
n..'..- arc tortur'd into fantastic shapes
'•»er changing and so fascinating that I
owe never tires of looking at them. At :
T*'-rity-!n. Mile creek Nature gives,
' < a a respite for there the mountains
r-< • d- a hit and permit a large circu- |
Jar opening of bench land, a spot of '
.ijutfcl’e b«auty 1'ut at once the
N-ani'-r earn-you on to scenes that
are unrivalled for grandeur, sliding
. eng mder the walls of Round moun
tain This is a bare bluff rising from
an .mposing preCpice. its dry face
gashed by chasms and crossed by
-r at rock terraces Here the lake
bottom is at its deepest—1,413 feet be
low th surface, or 340 feet below sea
level
Next rtlack Cap claims your atten- i
f • u at d admiration, a towering round
• d rock faced into a bald bluff and
boldly ranting the lake, and after it ]
u dozen more heights as grand and
imposing. Where Pish creek flows in
from the cast is a long point of sandy
soil where an enticing fishing resort 1
has been built, but the boat stops only :
a nioment. and soon after you come to
he north end of this wonderful lake !
and to Stehekin Really Stehekin con
. sists only of a hotel—and a very good
one—and the home of a park ranger.
Whether you want to or not, you must
remain there over night, and you do
not regret it. After a bountiful and
well cooked dinner you are ready for
th*- walk to Rainbow Falls, several
. miles jp the lovely little Stehekin riv
er that flows from the glaciers which
are always in sight glistening on the
mountains miles away up the canyon
Through beautiful forests of pine and
beech and fir you wander until a mu
sical rumbling tells you that the cas
cade is n>-ar at hand.
Rainbow Fa Is is as pretty a water
fall as one would wish to see. Straight
down from the brow of a cliff 300 feet
high plunges a little mountain stream,
into a self made basin from which it
overflows In another fall to its rocky
bed in the Stehekin valley. If you
chance to see it in rhe dry season., as
I did, the cataract is the more beau
tiful, for then its thin stream Is so
shattered by projected rocks near the
top that it comes down like a streav
of sunlit mist filled with glittering
pearls. And when the afternoon sun
strikes on it, there is thrown across
the fall the gorgeous rainbow that
gives it its name.
Absolutely unspoiled by tourists and
preserved from exploitation by the
wisdom of Uncle Sam who has made
this a national forest reservation,
K&inbow Kails is such a delightful spot
that one can scarcely tear himself
away. But you must return to the ho
tel. for one more interesting sight
awaits. As the sun is sinking toward
the ice-topped mountains you climb in
to a skiff and in ten minutes row over
to the Painted Rocks. On the face of
a sheer bluff are several groups of fan
tastic human figures, painted in im
perishable pigments by Indians of
some prehistoric time. They are so
far above the surface of the water and
the cliff is so unclimbable that the won
der is how the primitive artists man
aged to get to the place. Probably
their comrades let them down from
above, or possibly in that long gone
day the lake level was much higher
than now.
"When you go to Lake Chelan, be
sure to see the petrified deer," said a
friend in Seattle. "It stands on the
bottom in about twenty feet of water
and can be seen clearly when the lake
is calm. It is supposed to have been
killed and to have fallen into the lake,
where it was petrified."
This sounded interesting, so the first
thing I asked the skipper of the lit
tle steamer was: “Do ‘we go where
we can see the petrified deer?"
"N'o, I’m afraid not," he replied with
a grin. “The truth is I ha in't never
seen it myself, though I've heard tell
of it. Anyhow, some folks say they
have seen something that looks like a
deer "
"How about that petrified deer?" I
asked the proprietor of the hotel at
Slehekiu who made the return trip
with me.
"Petrified deer? Go on! Some one
has been telling you fairy tales," he
|rv m. « » <* m » w m •. J» » w mo »■ w « w • » * jV* V
Rainbow Falls.
said. ‘‘Do you suppose if There had
been any such thing here it would
have been left undisturbed? Why, I'd
have had it up myself long ago."
So 1 did not see the wonderful pet
rified deer, but Lake Chelan needs no
such marvel to make it one of the
most attractive places in this country
of ours. Soon it will be easy to reach,
too, for the branch of the Great North
ern railway from Wenatchee to Oro
ville will be completed this year and
will run through Chelan Falls, and
the road from there to Chelan is to be
greatly improved.
Voice of Experience.
"What do you think of the speeches
on tolls?”
“Well,” replied the self-made man,
"it reminds me of the days when I was
pilot of a canai boat. You can’t hope
to run a canal without a more or less
emotional style of expression ”
Summer Home on Lake Chelan.
SOON RAN OUT OF WHISKY
Lsreasenabie to Eapect Liquor to
LMt Long I" Family That Could
Not Keep Cow.
A *eier*n surgeon of the Clcll war.
who »t;12 practise* in the Piedmont
section cf Fauquier county. Virginia, j
•here hi* patients indoda the wealthy
horse fancier of the biuegraas and the
omfless. pueefty stricken mountain
err if the blue Ridge hollow*, was re
caatly sun.mooed to the bunkside of a
lank, chin-whiskered hill-billy, strick- '
en with a sluggish fever
Some two months prior a barrel of
whisky had been added to the meager
possessions of the hill-billy's family—
rhe ethics of the acquisition does not
enter Into this tale—and of this the
good doctor had learned; not, how
ever through any member of the hill
billy's family.
Itesiring to tone up the patient with
a stimulant the doctor concluded his 1
instructions thus
"Xow. madam, the best thing for ,
you to do is before each meal to give
Jim a good, strong whisky toddy.”
“Laws sakes. doctor,” replied the
woman of the house, “we-all ain' got
no whisky an' ain' got no money fer
to buy it, neither!”
“What, no whisky!” exclaimed the
doctor severely. 1 know you had a
barrel of it here two months ago."
^ assir, I know," came the prompt
explanation; "but a barrel o' whisky
don' la§' long in a fambly what can't
afford ter keep a cow! "—Saturday
Evening Post.
Why Worry About Imomrii?
A fi'oftif dictum of the physiolo
gists. emphasised in their latest
*ir,' relates to the dangers of sleep
leosmaas Sleep is mere important to
life than nutrition, and insomnia kills
so ner than starvation. " to quote the
esart aords of one. This has been a
kind of tradition In medicine, and is
reiterated again and again in these
hooka, without aay real evidence, so
far as I know, to support it Taught by
every medical man of older genera
tioaa to every medical fedgling of to
day, it finds Its way to general public
arcef tance, begetting in the lay mind
terrors of insanity and death which
haunt every unfortunate victim of in
somnia. The fear of not sleeping is
one of the commonest causes of in
somnia. Yet I do not know of any
medical evidence anywhere of disas
trous results from insomnia, and have
«y»'lf i-ever seen any harm arise
from sleeplessness, apart from the
harm done by the fears and worries
^fsoclated with the condition.—Fred
erick Peterson, in Atlantic.
Street Lifted by Toadstools.
Albert Raisch, identilied with an im
provement company at Hillsborough.
Cal., announces the discovery that
toadstools, exerting a pressure of more
than * 00 pounds to the square foot,
have lifted a section of asphalt mac
adam dressing one and one-fourth
inches thick on the boulevard fronting
the Burlingame Country club.
Before attacking the roadbed the
fungi fought its way through three
inches of crushed rock base underly
[ ing the asphalt macadam.
- i
Beautiful Things for Late Summer
THE last and the most fascinating
word that the goddess of fashion
has uttered is this whisper of crepe
and chiffon in which she tells her
dream of the best of the things for
midsummer. One may follow the
gown pictured here and be sure that
it will outlast the summertime, and
that the fall and winter will see its
day of greatest triumph.
There is hardly a color in which it
cannot be developed effectively. In
crepe or satin (of the clingy kindt
it allows the fulness that such fab
rics demand, without any building out
of the figure. The underskirt is cut
to hang in at the ankles and reaches
to the instep. It is made of the crepe
or satin. Set on to a yoke of bordered
chiffon at a point a little beiow the
swell of the hips is a side plaiting of
bordered chiffon. This is in a dark
! er shade (and might be in black) hem
stitched on.
i
The open-throated blouse is cut on
the same lines as the kimono and oth
er full, draped blouses, but the sleeve
is lengthened into a mousquetaire
with a narrow turned-back cuff. It
wrinkles about the arm and must
extend fully to the knuckles.
The neck is finished with a narrow
turnover collar of chiffon. About the
waist is the very simplest of girdles
made of w ide ribbon tied in a two
looped bow at the front. The soft un
derbodice with Medici collar is as
sheer as lace and chiffon will make
it. Pretty and equally soft corset cov
ers (with no corset under them, by
the way I must be w orn under these
very sheer waists to make the best
effect. There are plenty of corsetless
gowns and more to be worn with cor
| sets that extend hardly above the
■ waist and much below it.
There is an odd and attractive hat
with this gown. It is made of braid
sewed over a' shape that every one
is familiar with. It is one of those
good things in millinery which, with
little variation, live through at least
three seasons. Perched all over it
are butterflies, simulated in small
wings, made of feathers. Beautiful
and soon parsing, they appear to have
flocked to the head of the wearer, veri
fying the old adage about "birds of a
feather."
Coiffure Cap for Modern Dancing
COIFFI'RE caps are almost a neces
sity for those light-footed young
| women who dance the airy and the
i rather acrobatic steps of the modern
dances.
Here are two from Carlier of Paris
that are attractive and becoming to
the youthful faces they are pictured
with, and even more becoming to older
faces that belong to equally energetic
dancers.
The foundation of the first cap is
of silk meesaline or other light weight
and highly lustrous fabric. Over it a
; rather heavy lace cap is placed. A
: rosette made of tinsel petals and a
tinsel cord finish the decoration.
The cap is confined to the head by
an elastic cord, which adjusts it firmly
to place.
The second cap is made of a heavier
silk, with a spangled net draped with
it. It is arranged in folds, and is. in
fact, a sort of oriental turban which
sets close to the head and falls, with
much grace, to the nape of the neck
It is impossible to keep the hait
confined during the buoyant steps and
frolicsome springing about in which
the new dances abound. Th^se little
cups have proved the best solution to
the difficulty of keeping the head neat
looking at the dancing party.
There are many other designs in
caps, made of beads or of tulle or of
beaded and spangled materials. In
fact, the designs are almost as numer
ous as the steps that are danced.
There is no limit to the latter; every
one invents one for himself and his
partner and presents it to the devotees
of dancing with as much satisfaction
as a painter takes in a masterpiece of
| his art. JULIA BOTTOMLEY.
Stenciled Pillows.
Very serviceable and useful is the
stenciled pillow. The 'design may be
one of pine cone or a conventional pat
tern. If you prefer one of pine cone,
stencil the cones and stems in reddish
brown and the needles in bright green.
If a conventional pattern is used, sten
cil the design in brown, orange and
dull green. To be attractive and effec
tive, the designs should be stenciled
on gray art linen. The entire pillow
may be made of gray art linen or
strips of the linen may be Inserted
on any color preferred. The strips
may either be joined by narrow carpet
warp insertion or by merely sewing
the strip to the background.
Suede and Patent Leather.
One of the smart new bags is made
of suede, with a pointed end of patent
leather or black dressed kid. This
sort of bag is especially good when it
is carried by a woman wearing shoes
with black vamps or heels and up
pers of gray or tan kid, to match the
bag.
HER CAST-OFF BEAU
-. . _
By GEORGE C. HAMILTON.
"I guess that good-for-nothing Wal
ter Jameson will be coming home
soon, now that the old man has cashed {
in." was the gossips' verdict In Hicks
: viile.
And when, a few weeks later, Wal
j ter did arrive from the West, to take
care of his widowed mother, the gos
sips winked and nodded to one an
| other as much as to say, "I told you
i 80 "
Walter had been the unsuccessful
one of the family. His sister married
a rich lawyer in New York; his elder i
brother was a successful lawyer in the
same city. But Walter had never suc
ceeded. At last his father had bought I
him a ticket to Nevada—it was in the
days of the gold boom—and told him
not to let him see his face again.
Walter did not feel any particular !
regret at leaving a father who had ;
never shown him any affection. But |
his mother had cried, and that made
him feel badly—also leaving Nancy '
Dayton. They had been sweethearts !
once. But that was when they were |
twenty-one—before Walter had shown
himself a ne'er-do-weli.
Nobody had believed in him, and
Nancy least of all. She grew up to
be a flirt. When he told her he loved
her—the second time he came home
; penniless—she laughed in his face.
"I'll win you yet. Nancy," he an
: swered, and went away.
Yes, there was one person besides
his mother who believed in Walter,
but he did not know it. That was
Elizabeth. Nancy’s little sister. She
| had all the faith that a child has in
\ one whom she instinctively recognizes
1 to be misjudged But a man in love
with a young woman of twenty-three i
pays scant attention to her sister of
fifteen.
And now Walter was back. And. to
his mother, he was still the boy who
was going to make so much of his
I life, though he was almost thirty. He
i had heen gone six years that time*
"You are going to stay home with
me, dear," she said. "It will be hard
She Laughed in His Face.
i tc keep things going, and your father
I left only two thousand in insurance,
i but we will do our best together.”
But she looked wistfully after him
; the morning after his arrival, as he
! walked over to the Dayton house. She
had seen Nancy Dayton grow into a
! sullen, discontented girl of twenty
nine. Nancy had never married. She
had refused several good chances, be
cause she wanted to begin life where
her parents had left off—with a com
fortable income.
When Walter reached the door he
was astonished at the vision that he
saw before him. It looked like Nancy,
but it was an idealized Nancy, the
Nancy of whom he had dreamed dur
ing those lonely years In Nevada.
"Why!—this isn’t Nancy!” he
gasped, staring at the beautiful young
girl who stood smiling at him.
"No, I’m Elizabeth," answered the
girl, blushing at his frank stare of
admiration. "Nancy is out this eve
ning. Won’t you come in, Mr. Jame
| son?”
The news of Walter’s arrival had al
j ready spread through the village and
j reached the Dayton home. It was
i well for him that he had not heard the
I scathing remarks that Nancy had
: made about him.
When he took his leave an hour
later, the young man realized that,
whatever his love for Nai,cy might
have been, the image that he carried
in his heart had now a striking re
semblance to Elizabeth.
And he was bound in honor to ask
Nancy to be his wife. That was the
irony of it! When he called the next
evening and met her his heart sank.
How could he ever have loved Nancy,
thin woman with the affected air and
the peevish lines about her mouth?
Though his welcome was not an ef
fusive one, Nancy was hospitable, in
virtue of old associations. Her talk
was vivacious, and all about the balls
and parties to which she had -een.
She spoke of her beaux, with a sly
glance at Walter, and lamented the
tediousness of life in a small town.
It was not until he was about to
leave that Walter summoned up cour
age to say what was uppermost in his
mind.
"Nancy, do you remember what I
told you last time we parted?” he
asked.
Nancy's heart beat quickly, but it
was not with love. She had not had
a proposal for six months, and she i
w as longing for another scalp to hang
at her girdle.
“No. Mr. Jameson. What was it?"
she inquired archly.
"That I was coming back to marry
you,"* he answered.
Nancy's shrill laugh pierced the air.
"Well, you certainly have carried cut
the first part of your determination,
about coming back," she answered.
"But as for the second—why, I think:
you hare another guess coming, Mrj
Jameson.”
Walter's face turned crimson. After
all, it is not exactly pleasant to have
ones otter of marriage laughed to
scorn, even though one has made it
out of a sense of duty.
He looked into Nancy's mocking
face and said good-by. But that was
not his last visit to the Dayton home.
On the contrary, he called frequently
after that—only It was to see Miss
Elizabeth. And sometimes words were
said which brought the color into her
fair face and a look of unutterable
happiness into her eyes.
Of course. Nancy was not slow to
see what was transpiring. She taunt
ed Elizabeth in her sisterly manner.
“Well, Elizabeth, if you want my
cast-off beau, of course it's all right,’’
she said "Only he’ll always bev a
pauper, and If 1 were you 1 would
send him right about face without de
lay.”
That Walter had asked Nancy to'
marry him since his return Elizabeth
did not know. The words stung her.
Walter was not slow to notice the
change in her manner the next time
he called.
"Elizabeth, what have I done to of
fend you?" he pleaded.
"You haven't offended me, Mr. Jame
son." replied the girl. "Only—people
are saying—"
"What, dear?” asked Walter taking
her hand in his.
"That—that you are making love
to me because you can’t get Nancy,"
she faltered, and tried to run away.
But Walter caught her.
' Now you listen to me,” he said.
"It's true 1 did ask Nancy to marry
me when 1 came back. But it wasn’t
because I loved her. Elizabeth. As
soon as I saw you I knew that I had
loved you all the time. It was be
cause—1 felt honor bound, my dear.
And when she refused me my heart
just leaped up to think it was going
to be you."
'How do you know it's going to be
me?" asked Elizabeth.
For answer he took her in his arms
and pressed his lips to hers.
“Isn't it?" he demanded eagerly.
And Elizabeth said “yes.” And then
he told her the momentous secret
which was shortly to set all the town,
gaping.
For it was really true. And when)
he bought his mother the finest house,
in the place, and it became known thatl
he had made his fortune in the Jame-i
son gold mine, all Hicksville rushed!
to invite him to its homes. But Wal
ter and Elizabeth were too busy with
their preparations for the coming
wedding to think much about social:
life just then.
As for Nancy—there were four new5
lines about her mouth forever after,
tivo on each side; and its downward
droop was decidedly accentuated.
(Copyright. 1S14. by W. G. Chapman.)
NEEDLESS WASTING OF TIME
Man Who Heedlessly Interrupts Busy
Worker May Properly Be
Termed a Thief.
There are in this great world of
peculiar contradictions many men who
would never filch another man's prop-,
erty, but have no moral scruples
against stealing his time.
To the busy worker time is a valu
able commodity, minutes are reck
oned in terms of dollars and cents.
Needless interruption of their work
therefore steals from them dollars and
cents. t
Who steals another man’s time, by
lounging around and engaging him,
in conversation foreign to the work
in hand—often foreign to any work
that concerns either of them—is self
branded as more than a "time thief.”
He is stamped as a man whose own
time is without value; a drone who
has come idly buzzing into a hive of
workers.
When a young man needlessly dis
tracts the attention of his fellow
workers when those fellow workers
are “ears over" in work that must be
done he steals time, not only from
the fellow workers, but from his em
ployer as well. That time is being
paid for by his employer.
Furthermore he is stealing from hie
fellow workers a measurable amount
of their efficiency by hampering them
in turning out their work.
And it reacts upon himself. His
employer, observing, says: "This
young man not only frivols Instead of
trying to keep busy, but interferes
with the work of others. I cannot af
ford to keep him in my employ. He is
stealing from me—doubly stealing!”
If a young man is not a worker with,
those whose time he steals, but mere
ly an Idle visitor, he is an industrial
porch climber, none the less a time,
thief.
"Go to the ant, thou sluggard.” but
to observe his industry—not to dis
tract his attention from work.—Suc
cess Talks to Young Men. '
Not New to Her.
A party of Clevelanders entertained
some holiday visitors recently, and
having showed them everything in
teresting in Cleveland proper, they
had to take them out to Newburg tor
a view of the asylum. The superin
tendent was in a genial frame of mind,
and he conducted the bunch personal
ly. ‘‘Here is a queer case, ladies," he
said, pausing at a particular cell. "This
man has the delusion that he pos
sesses the motive power that runs the
universe. He is perfectly harmless,
but he actually believes that without
him the world would not raove.
Strange notion, Isn’t It?" "Why, not
at all!” exclaimed one of the wcmen.
“My husband has the same idea, and
he always has had it. Is he crazy,
too?”—Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Use of Peat in Canada.
The experimental work conducted
by the Canadian government In re
gard to the manufacture of peat
proved so successful that there ar»
now two private concerns producing
peat, one at Alfred, Ont., and the oth
er at Farnham, Quebec. It is said
that the peat manufactured by tho
Canadian government and used by
private persons Is satisfactory for
grates and also good for cooking.