Dress for the Nearly Grown Girl
AOKIMtCTC dress, with a shirt
ha».:.« a long kussian tunic. is
shown here as an unusually good
model for the slender and immature
figure at the nearly grown girl. This
dress IS designed for the corsetless
■cure and leaves nothing to be de
sired as n model for the miss who is
finishing her school days The shirt
is set on to the bodice and has a high
*»aist line The bodice is supported
by s light under*aist and thus the
»e g»t of the garment is hung from
the shoulder* as well as the hips.
Firmly seven hght-weight serges and
other close s eaves are appropriate
for this dress Supple materials that
fail gracefully are the best choice.
There is an under petticoat, of tin
-ng »ith a wide border of the material
at (he bottom This straight-hanging
shirt .* cut to instep length and of
amp> width to insure perfect freedom
in sasking The tunic is laid in box
plaits at the side* and back, with a
straight panel at the front The plaits
are stitched do* n to the swell of the
hips and fall free from there to tbe
b«fa® The panel is finished with a
row of small covered buttons at each
..
» ce and the tt ? opens nnder ft at
tie* left sid-. where it fastens with
snap fasteners.
The loose and cleverly managed bod
ice is cut with slreves and body in
one piece It injures perfect free
dc m to the arms. Fullness over the
b‘ *t is provided by gathers at each
aide, let into the goods and laid in
plaits which are stitched down over
the shoulder This arrangement helps
out the deficiency which is usual in
the undeveloped figure of the miss. A
large sailor collar finishes the bodice,
which opens over a vestee. or fichu,
as the case may be, cf white organdie.
The sleeves are long and close fitting
about the wrist, where they are pro
vided with a slit for the hand to go
through This is fastened down with
• nap fasteners and finished with two
buttons like those on the skirt. Turned
j lack cuffs of organdie are used as a
neat finish for them. *
A broad sash of heavy ribbon in the
rich colors which one finds in the
1 roman stripes is draped about the fig
ure below- the waist line. It drops at
the front, terminating under the panel
! of the skirt,
i
Costumes for the Afternoon
OVK can find enough of 'J»e new
every »«-k to «rt*e n fair
*Ued volume on late fashion* 8ou»
unwi -he tuskers of fashions take just
one Idea and develop it to such an ex
tent that It takes column after col
atea of newspaper space to describe
toe vans'tons that have been rung la
upoa that idea
Take the ruffled skirt, for instance.
V. barn the ;• naret tunic was first Intrrv
du ed r waa a shock because women
at fsvh.a bad grows so accustomed to
the straight It tie from hip to ankle that
the cutting a half of the figure did not
•wit at all After much grutubliitg and
crtf< cam. however, the Idea was ae
_ -LX--- - --TJTJ-U-U--rj
opted and even declared to be pret
ty So much of the very inevitable
;s accepted with grace and change of
heart.
Taffeta is fulfilling amply the proph
ecies made concerning its popular
ity, and as an infinity of ways" liave
been found of diversifying its appear
ance it is not becoming wearisome on
account of reiteration.
The photograph shows two of the
very latest styles In afternoon dresses.
At the left is a model of white crepe
with embroidered border. On the right
the costume is of embroidered voile,
with rose silk girdle.
JULIA BOTTOMLEY.
Becoming Jewelry.
Atwey* wear jewelry with regard
U> color Take, for instance, iiighly
eotored gmc*. such aa rubies and sap
phire* They should not be worn with
a shade of rod Soft colors should
U»sy» hr selected la such case*—tur
•psedaea pearls or diamonds.
The somaa with dull eyes must ner
e* weir diamond earrings, for these
etowe* will accentuate their dullness.
The pearl mAcsi the (ace more than
i*y other jewel Another stone which
* tn!!y imootning i« tha anal A
stone called Tonkinoise, which is a
pure blue, makes a sallow skin many
shades lighter.
Fitted Bodice Coming.
There seems no doubt now that by
autumn, fitted bodices will ">6* upon
us. Some of the most authoritative
frocks Hor summer wear show' decid
ed signs of "nipping in" at the waist
line and beiow the bust in front, and
sometimes this fitted effect is
achieved with old-fashioned dart
seams.
JED HAW18’ LUCK
By GEORGE ELMER COBB<
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
Stridently there hammered out upon
the air the measured beat of a big
bass drum. Stalwart, free-armed, Jed
Hawkins stood at his task as resolute
ly as a maestro at the baton stand.
Before him, propped in a low tree
crotch, was a home-made sheet of
music, its sparse notes big as eggs.
This was his "score.”
Over the neighboring fence old Seth
Brown protruded his broad tanned
face, set all in a capacious grin.
"What ye think yer doin’. Jed?” he
propounded.
"Practising," was the terse, serious
reply.
"You call that music!" derided
Brown.
“ 'Twill be. when it mixes in with
the rest of the band.”
"What band?”
"The village band—I’ve joined it j
There'B just as much system to a drum
as there is to a flute. Nature's music
isn’t all bird song—there's frog croak
ings, too."
jgeth Brown went on his way, chuck
ling: The lonesome boomings of the
big drum were dismal. Besides, he
had a poor opinion of Jed Hawkins,
in the first place, his pretty daughter,
Nellie, liked Jed. In the next place, !
she had her pick of several richer!
swains.
v “I’ll admit Jed is stiddy,” ruminated
the practical old man. "but he's slow
and poky. Well, it will take him 60
long to save enough to get married on.
that Nellie will get tired waiting and
marry some one else.”
"Slow but sure.” was the way Nellie
put it to herself. “Dear fellow! He
loves me and that’s enough, and I’ll
wait fifty years for him, if I have to.” j
"A little extra money—everything
counts," reflected patient, honest Jed.
“The band gets four dollars a head an
evening for playing at dances. Next
winter it will be three times a week—"
boom-boom-boom-boom-boom! and Jed
proceeded industriously to beat out
the notes of his score.
“Well, dear," challenged him. and
he turned to face hie loyal sweetheart.
Stood at His Task Resolutely.
bright-faced and cheery as usual—
"how are you getting on?”
"I can play the whacks where they’re
marked to come in.” explained Jed. “I
reckon I can till the bill.”
Nellie had been to the post office.
She carried the weekly town newspa
per In her hand. This she opened and
held it before the face of her lover,
her dainty forefinger indicating a great
black type advertisement.
"Look, dear,” she directed and Jed
read it in his slow accurate way.
“A thousand dollars reward,” he
said, “I’d find the child for nothing,
if I could. Poor little tot! No clue, j
eh?”
“No,” replied Nellie, "the paper says
that Ida Strong has been kidnaped and
probably carried to a distance. Her
parents are frantic. They only hope
that, once they get 6afely in hiding. !
those who stole her will offer her for j
ransom.”
'They're rich enough to pay a big '
one,” remarked Jed. “How well I re
call the little one. Only a week ago
I gave her a pretty red apple and rode
her on my shoulder down the square.”
“When is your first band playing?"
asked Nellie, changing the subject.
“Saturday night. It isn’t a very se
lect dance, or I'd ask you to go. It's
over at Jung's Corners. They’re a
lough lot around there, you know.
Their shindigs generally break up in a
row.” -
"Take rare of yourself, dear, won’t
you?" 6aid Nellie softly.
“And the four dollars—yes, indeed!
The first nest egg for a home. Give
me a kiss on it, Nellie.’’ '
She gave him a dozen, and was
proud of the artless but earnest young
fellow who fairly worshiped the ground
she trod on.
A great clumsy carry-all conveyed
the rural band over to Jung’s Corners
on Saturday evening. Jed had not ex
aggerated the conditions prevalent
with that community of lawless roy
sterers and rude river men. There
were ten members of the band. They
placed their instruments in a small
room back of the dance hall and sat
around until the crowd arrived.
Then when the last number was
played off the program, they again
stored their instruments and accepted
the invitation to supper from the pro
prietor of the place.
Jed noticed half a dozen fights in
progress as he was the first of the
party to go after his instrument When
he got into the poorly lighted store
room he rolled his bulky drum near
to the door. It was quite heavy and
he usually asked some one to help
him when it had to be carried. Just
then he paused and bent his ear sharp
ly. A thin piping wail proceeded from
beyond a door in one corner of the
room. It was bolted. Jed unslipped
the bolt
“Gracious me!” he ejaculated, and
well he might. In a wretched adjoin
ing apartment a little child lay sob
bing on a pallet.
“Ida Strong!” gasped Jed and then
he advanced towards the child. The
light from the dancing hall permeated'
the room. “Don’t you know me, Ida?”
"Oh yes, sure I do!” palpitated the j
little one, putting up her thin waver
ing hands. “Oh, Mr. Hawkins! Please
take me away from here. I've been
locked up for a week and I heard these
say they were going to take me further
from home tomorrow.”
"Do just as I tell you." whispered
Jed, an exciting thought coming into
his mind.
Then there were some strange and j
rapid movements in the room and j
then, as the cornet player appeared
and took up his instrument, Jed sang >
out.
"Help me get this clumsy old bag- !
gage of mine to the wagon, will you?” j
“Say! it's pretty heavy, isn't it?” :
propounded the man as he took hold
of one side of the drum.
"Rather bulky, yes.’’ nodded Jed.
"Go easy—that's it,” and he gave a
great breath of relief as the big drum
was hoisted aboard the carry-all.
He sat well back in the wagon near
to his precious drum, when they got
started on their homeward route. Jed
was nervous, for he bent his ear many
a time anxiously as if seeking for !
signs of pursuit
There were none and as the horses :
reached the top of the last hill over- !
looking the home town, he pulled the |
drum towards him. He unstrung its !
great moon-faced top.
"All right, little one!” he hailed, and ,
the child he had secreted in the big, j
roomy drum put out her arms and I
elimi&d into his lap.
His companions in the carry-all
stared at child and man in open- >
mouthed wonder. Their eyes goggled
as he told of his unique plan to res
cue her.
"You see. some of that lawless gang
down at the Corners had her hidden
away in Jung's place,” explained Jed.
“And you get a thousand dollars,"
shouted the leader of the band.
“Yes, the reward is yours,” chorused
half a dozen voices.
"Not so slow and poky, after all,”
commented Farmer Brown, when he
came to know that Jed Hawkins had
fairly won the price of a home for his
pretty daughter, Nellie.
(Copyright, 1914. bv W. G. Chacman.V
NOT THEIR STRONG POINT1
:
Literary Taste of Schoolboys Seems
to Be Chiefly Remarkable for
Its Absence.
Literary taste is rather an inherited
birthright than an acquired possession. ■
It may be cultivated and improved :
wherever it has been implanted, but i
to plant it in the nature of the ordi
nary schoolboy calls for both genius
and patience. The author of "The Ro
mance of Northumberland," in com
menting on the literary associations of !
Hodden Held, is led to reflect on the ;
reaction of the schoolboy to liters- .
ture.
Coercion of the youthful British: 1
Philistine to read inspiring verse can,
I presume, do no possible harm, and, j
some of the seed may fall on fertile
ground, take root and prosper. The
dismal task, moreover, seems occasion
ally to be rewarded by mental revela
tions that from a teacher's standpoint .
would easily redeem a wasted hour. j
A friend of mine, not very long ago, j
was giving a lesson in English liter
ature at a well-known public school
to one of those forms where stodgy
youths who have long outlived all in
tellectual ambition are apt to vegetate
in cheerful apathy, until their waxing
stature or downy chins make the situ
ation a reproach to themselves and In
tolerable to their preceptors.
The subject was "Marmion." On
the suggestion being made to one of
the most invincible dullards that he
should give his view as to what Scott
meant by "The battle's deadly swell.”
he replied with reasonable promptness
and with sublime Innocence of any hu
morous intent that he supposed it was
Lord Marmion.
Doctor Moss of Shrewsbury, where
Milton is apaprently the time-honored
subject for written compositions, re
lated at a public diner recently an in
cident equally good in its way. It ap
pears that the day after the late Lord
Tennyson's death, a Shrewbury mas
ter, while carving at dinner, remarked
on the melancholy event to some
senior boys sitting near him, when a
youth of neither scholarly nor indus
trious habit, somewhere down the ta
ble, looking up with a truculent and
vindictive expression, fervently ex
claimed: ‘I wish it had been that
beastly old Milton!"—Youth's Com
panion.
Where the Fabians First Met.
Clifford s Inn. by Temple Bar, which
was recently sold at auction in Lon
don, has already undergone a good
deal of reconstruction, though this has
not so far materially damaged the
last of the cloistral retreats behind
the frontage of Fleet street. When the
old buildings disappear, as seems in
evitable, there will go a good many
sets of chambers associated with fa
mous men—among them the rooms
occupied for many years, while his
books were slowly making way among
the discerning, by that pure eccen
tric Samuel Butler of “Crewhon.” It
was, by the way, in the little old hall
of Clifford's Inn that the weekly meet
ings of the Fabian society were held
for at least a decade and a half. It
was there, indeed, that the old gang
—Sidney Webb, Bernard Shaw, Hu
bert Bland, Graham Wallas, Sydney
Olivier and the rest—finished and
practised the debating game which,
in the nineties made them so power
ful a band of controversialists.—Man-,
cheater Guardian.
After the Honeymoon.
Nuwedd—I was worried for nearly
three years for fear I wouldn’t geti.
you.
Mrs. Nuwedd—What are you think
ing of now, dear?
Nuwedd—Thinking how foolish I
was to worry.
BEL6IAN CITY CAPTURED BY THE GERMANS
Panoramic view of Liege, the city so fiercely defended by the Belgians and Anally captured by the Germans at'
heavy cost to themselves.
_ GERMAN ARTILLERY TRAVERSING ROUGH COUNTRY
COMMANDS FRANCE’S ARMIES
i!
General Joffre, commander-in-chief
Jf the armies <* Prance.
BRnwij^
Earl Kitchener, who was recalled to
London as he was leaving England for
Egypt and appointed secretary of state
for war. ' —
WHERE GERMAN BOMBS KILLED FIFTEEN
Scene tn Lunevilig, France, where a Zeppelin airship dropped bombs. k!.ll
ing'fifteen persons. In the photograph the inhabitants are watching the
flight of a dirigible over the city. ’*•
FRENCH~CAVWLRY~ON~Tyj^~MARCH
. FORT AT SPITHEAD, ENGLAND
«
SCENE WHEN GERMANY AND RUSSIA BROKE RELATIONS I
St- Petersburg. It was midnight
Friday when Count von Pour tales, the
German ambassador to Russia, visited
Foreign Minister Sazanoff and asked
for an urgent interview. As soon as
he was received be formally called up
on Russia to cease her mobilization in
twelve hours.
At 7 o'clock Saturday evening Count
von Pourtales again called up M. Sa
tanoff and again asked if Russia would
cease mobilizing her force. To this
t
the Russian statesman replied.
"Inasmuch as the Russian govern
ment has not answered within the
time you specified. It follows that
Russia has declined to agree with
' your demand.”
Three times Count von Pourtales re
peated the German ultimatum and
each time the Russian foreign minis
ter met his statement with the same j
firm negative. Finally Count von j
Pourtales rose from his chair, bowed j
to the foreign minister and left the
room without another word. He and
the members ot his staff at once de-.
parted from St. Petersburg.
According to the Novoe Vremya.
Count von Pourtales held in his hand
the typewritten texts of two replies
from Germany. One was for the pre,
sentation in the event of Russian ac
ceptance of the German ultimatum and
the other in case of the rejection. In
his great agitation the German ambas
sador presented both replies to M. Sa-:
zonoff at the same time.