The Adventures of
Kathlyn
HAROLD MAC GRATH
Illustrated by Picture* from the Moving Picture
Production of the Selig Polyscope Ce.
\
{Copyright by Harold MacUratU
SYNOPSIS.
Kathlyn Hare; believing her father. Col.
Hare. In peril, has summoned her, leaves
her home In California to go to him In
Allaha, India. Un\balla, pretender to the
throne, lias Imprisoned the colonel, named
by the late king as his heir.
CHAPTER II—Continued.
Sadly the wretch told her the tale:
the will of the king, his death, and the
rubsequent death of her father In his,
Lturga Rain's, arms. Yonder urn con
tained his ashes. For the first time
la her young life Kathlyn fainted. She
had been living on her nerves for
weeks, and at the sight of that urn
something snapped. Daintily Um
baila plucked forth the packet and
waited. At leugth she opened her
eyes.
“You are a queen, Miss Hare."
"You are mad!"
“Nay; it was the madness of the
king. But mad kings often make laws
which must be obeyed. You will ac
cuse me of perfidy when I tell yen all.
The note which brought you here was
written by me and substituted for
this.”
Dully Kathlyn read; “Kathlyn—If
not heard from. I'm held captive in
Allaha. The royal title given to me
by the king made me and my de
scendants direct heirs to the throne.
Do not come to Allaha yourself. De
stroy sealed document herewith.
"FATHER.”
The Council of Three entered noise
lessly from the adjoining room. At
(he four dark, Inscrutable faces the be
wildered girl stared, her limbs numb
with terror. Gravely the council told
her she must come with them to the
palace. »
"It is impossible!" she murmured.
"You are all mad. I am a white wom
an. I cannot rule over an alien race
whose tongue I cannot speak, whose
habits 1 know nothing of. It is Impos
sible. Since my father is dead, I must
return to my home.”
"No." said Umballa.
“I refuse t9 stir!" She was all afire
of a sudden: the base trickery which
had brought here here! She was very
lovely to the picturesque savage who
stood at her elbow.
As he looked down at her. in his
troubled soul Umballa knew that it
was not the throne so much as it was
this beautiful bird of Paradise which
he wished to cage.
"Be brave,” he said, "like your fa
ther. I do not wish to use force, byt
you must go. It is useless to strug
gle. Come.”
She hung back for a moment; then,
realizing her utter helplessness, she
signified that she was ready to go. She
needed time to collect her stunned and
disordered thoughts.
Before going to the palace they con
ducted her to the royal crypt. The
urn containing her father's ashes was
deposited in a niche. Many other
niches contained urns, and Umballa
explained to her that these held the
t.shes of many rulers. Tears welled
Into K&thlyn's eyes, but they were of
a hysterical character.
“A good sign," mused Umballa, who
thought he knew something of women,
like all men beset with vanity. Oddly
enough, he had forgotten all about the
Incident of the lion in the freight ca
boose. All women are felines to a cer
tain extent. This golden-haired woman
had claws, and the day was coming
when he would feel them drag over his
heart. ^
From the crypt they proceeded to
the palace zenana (harem), which sur
rounded a court of exceeding beauty.
Three ladies of the harem were sitting
in the portico, attended by slaves. All
were curiously interested at the sight
of a woman with white skin, tinted
like the lotus. Umballa came to a
halt before a latticed door.
“Here your majesty must remain
till the day of your coronation."
^ “How did my father die?"
“He was assassinated on the palace
steps by a Mahomedan fanatic. As I
told you, he died in my arms."
“His note signified that he feared
imprisonment. How came he on the
palace steps?"
"He was not a prisoner He came
and went as he pleased in the city.”
He bowed and left her.
Alone in her chamber, the dullness
of her mind diminished and finally
cleared away lifie a fog in a wind. Her
dear, kind, blue-eyed father was dead,
and she was virtually a prisoner, and
Winnie was all alone. A queen! They
were mad. or she was in the' midst of
some hideous nightmare. Mad. mad,
mad! She began to laugh, and it was
not a pleasant sound. A queen, she
Kathlyn Hare! Her father was dead,
bhe was a queen, and Winnie was all
alone A gale of laughter brought to
the marble lattice many wondering
eyes. The white cockatoo shrilled his
displeasure. Those outside the lattice
saw this marvelous white-skinned
woman, with hair like the gold threads
in Chinese brocades, suddenly throw
herself upon a pile of cushions, and
they saw her shoulders rock and
heave, but heard no sound of wailing.
After a while she fell asleep, & kind
of dreamless- stupor. When she awoke
it was twilight in the court. The
doves were cooing and fluttering In the
cornices and the cockatoo was preen
ing his lemon-colored topknot. At first
Kathlyn had not the least Idea where
she was, but tbe light beyond the lat
tice, the flitting shadows, and the tin
kle of a stringed instrument assured
her that she was awake, terribly
awake.
She sat perfectly still, slowly gather
ing her strength, mental and physical.
She was not her father's daughter- for
nothing. She was to fight in some
strange warfare, Instinctively she felt
this; but from what direction, in
what shape, only God knew. Yet she
must prepare for It; that waa the vital
thing; she must marshal her forces,
feminine and only defensive, and
watch.
Rao! Her hands clutched the pil
lows. In five days’ time he would be
off to seek John Bruce; and there
would be white men there, and they
would come to her though a thousand
legions of these brown men stood be
tween. She must play for time; she
must pretend docility and humility,
meet guile with guile. She could get
no word to her faithful khitmatgar;
none here, even if open to bribery,
could be made to understand. Only
Umballa and the council spoke Eng
lish or understood it. She had ten
days’ grace; within that time she
hoped to find some loophole.
Slave girls entered noiselessly. The
hanging lamps were lit. A tabaret
was set before her. There were quail
and roast kid, fruits and fragrant tea.
She was not hungry, but she ate.
Within a dozen yards of her sat her
father, stolidly munching his chupat
tis, because he knew that now he must
live.
• ••••••
One of the chief characteristics of
the East Indian is extravagance. To
outvie each other in celebrations of
births, weddings, deaths and corona
tions they beggar themselves. In this'
the oriental and the occidental have
one thing in common. This principal
ity was small, but there was a deal of
wealth in it because of its emerald
mines and turquoise pits. The durbar
brought out princes and princelings
from East, South and West, and even
three or four wild-eyed amirs from the
North. The British government at
Calcutta heard vaguely about this fete,
but gave it Bcant attention for the sim
ple fact that it had not been invited
to attend. Still it watched the per
formance covertly. Usually durbar*
took months of preparation; this one
had been called into existence within
ten days.
Elephants and camels and bullocks;
palanquins, gharris, tongas; cloth of
gold and cloth of jewels; color, confu
sion, maddening noises, and more col
or. There was very little semblance
of order; a rajah preceded a prince
ling, and so on down. The wailing of
reeds and the muttering of kettle
drums; music, languorous, haunting,
elusive, low minor chords seemingly
struck at random, intermingling a
droning chant; a thousand streams ot
incense, crossing and recrossing; and
fireworks at night, fireworks which
had come all the way across China by
caravan—these things Kathlyn saw
and heard from her lattice.
The populace viewed all these mani
festations quietly. They were perfect
ly willing to wait. If this white queen
proved kind they w ould go about their
affairs, leaving her in peace: but they
were determined that she should be no
puppet in the bands of Umballa. whom
they hated for -his cruelty and money
leeching ways.’ O, everything was ripe
in the state for murder and loot—and
the reaching, holding hand of the Brit
ish Raj.
As Kathlyn advanced to the can
opied dais upon which she was to be
The Al Fresco Throne of Allaha.
crowned, a hand filled with flowers
reached out. She turned to see Ah
med.
“Bruce Sahib,’" she whispered.
Ahmed salaamed deeply as she
passed on. The impression that she
was dreaming again seized her. This
could not possibly be real. Her feet
did not seem to touch the carpets; she
did not seem to breathe; she floated,
it was only when the crown was placed
upon her head that she realized the
reality and the finality of the pro
ceedings.
"Be wise.” whispered Umballa, cold
ly. “If you take off that crown now,
neither your gods nor mine could save
you from that mob down yonder. Be
advised. Rise!”
She obeyed. She wanted to cry out
to that sea of bronze faces: “People. I
do not want to be your queen. Let
me go!” They would not understand.
Where was Rao? Where was Bruce?
What of the hope that now flickered
and died in her heart, like a guttering
candle light? There waa a small dag
ger hidden in the folds of her white
robe; she could always use that She
heard Umballa speaking in the native
; tongue. A great shouting followed.
The populace surged.
“What have you said to them?” she
demanded.
“That her majesty had chosen Durga
Ram to be her consort and to him now
forthwith she will be wed.” He sa
laamed.
So the mask was off! “Marry you?
O, no! Mate with you, a black?”
X- . ‘
“Black?" he cried, as If a whiplash
had struck him across the face.
“Yes, black of skin and black of
heart. I have submitted to the farce
of this durbar, but that is as far as
my patience will go. God will guard
me.”
“God?” mockingly.
“Yes. my God and the God of my far
thers!"
To the mutable faces below she
looked the queen at that Instant. They
saw the attitude, but could not inter
pret it.
“So be it. There are other things
besides marriage.”
“Yes,” she replied proudly; “there
is death.”
CHAPTER III.
The Two Ordeals.
Umballa was not a coward; he was
only ruthless and predatory after the
manner of his kind. A thrill of admi
ration tingled his spine. The women
of his race were chattels, lazy and in
ert, without Are, merely drudges or
playthings. Here was one worth con
quering, a white flame to be controlled.
To bend her without breaking her,
that must be his method of procedure.
The skin under her chin was as white
as the heart of a mangosteen, and the
longing to sweep her into his arms was
almost irresistible.
A high priest spoke to Kathlyn.
“What does he say?” she asked.
“That you must marry me.”
“Tell him I refuse!”
Umballa shrugged and repeated her
words. Here the Council of Three in
terposed, warning Kathlyn that she
must submit to the law as it read.
There was no appeal from it.
“Then I shall appeal to the British
raj.”
“How?" asked Umballa, urbanely.
Swiftly she stepped to the front of
the platform and extended her arms.
It was an appeal. She pointed to Um
balla and shook her head. Her arms
went out again. A low murmur rippled
over the pressing crowd; it grew in
volume; and a frown of doubt flitted
over Umballa's brow. The soldiers
were swaying restlessly. Kathlyn saw
this sign and was quick to seize upon
its possibilities, She renewed her ges
ture toward them. It seemed that
she must burst forth in their mad
dening tongue: “I appeal to the
chivalry of Allaha! . . . Soldiers,
you now wear my uniform! Liberate
me!” But her tongue was mute: yet
her eyes, her face, her arms spoke
eloquently enough to the turbulent sol
diers. Besides, they welcomed the op
portunity to show the populace how
strong they were and how little they
feared Umballa. At a nod from their
leader they came romping up the steps
to the dais and surrounded Kathlyn.
A roar came from the populace; an
elephant trumpeted; the pariah dogs
barked.
Umballa stepped back, bis hand on
his jeweled sword. He was quite un
prepared for any such flagrant mutiny
—mutiny from his angle of vision,
though in law the troopers had only
responded to the desire of their queen.
He turned questioningly to the Council
and the priests. He himself could
move no further. His confreres appre
ciated the danger in which their power
stood. They announced that it was
decreed to give the queen a respite of
seven days in which to yield. It
would at least hold the bold troopers
on the leash till they could be brought
to see the affair In its true light by the
way of largess in rupees. Umballa
consented because he was at the bot
tom of the sack. A priest read from a
scroll the law, explaining that no
woman might rule unmarried. Because
the young queen was not conversant
with the laws of the state she would
be given seven days. Thus the dur
bar ended.
With a diplomacy which would have
graced a better man Umballa directed
the troopers to escort Kathlyn to her
chamber in the zenana. He had in
mind seven days. Many things could
be accomplished in that space of time.
“For the present,” he said, smiling
at Kathlyn, "the God of your fathers
has proven strongest. But tomorrow!
. . . Ah, tomorrow! There will be
seven days Think then, deeply and
wisely. Your khitmatgar Kao is a
prisoner. It will be weeks ere your
presence Is known here. You are
helpless as a bird in the net. Struggle
if you will; you will only bruise your
wings. The British raj? The British
raj does not want a great border war.
and I can bring down ten thousand
wild hill men outlaws between whom
and the British raj there is a blood
feud; ten thousand from a land where
there is never peace, only truce. In
seven days. Salaam, heaven born!”
She returned bis ironical gaze calm
ly over the shoulder of a trooper.
“Wait," she said. “I wish you to
understand the enormity of your
crime.”
“Crime?" with elevated eyebrows.
“Yes. You have abducted me.”
“No. You came of your own free
will.”
“The white men of my race will not
pause to argue over any such subtlety.
Marry you? I do not like your color.”
A dull red settled under Umballa’s
skin.
“I merely wish to warn you,” she
went on. "that my blood will be upon
your head. And woe to you if it is.
There are white men who will not
await the coming of the British raj.”
"Ah, yes; some brave, hardy Ameri
can; Bruce Sahib, for instance. Alas,
he is in the straits settlements! Seven
days.”
“I am not afraid to die.”
“But there are many kinds of death.”
and with this sinister reflection he
stepped aside.
The multitude, seeing Kathlyn com
ing down from the dais, still surround
ed by her cordon of troopers, began
reluctantly to disperse. “Br< ,d and
the circus!”—the mobs will cry it
down the ages; they will alwa. pause
to witness bloodshed, from a s '1 dis
tance, you may be sufe. There >K'
deal of rioting in the bazaars •’
night, and many a measure of
and toddy kept the Area burning, ori
ental politics is like the winds of the
equinox: It blows from all directions.
The natives were taxed upon every
conceivable subject, not dissimilar to
the old days in Urdu, where a man
paid so much for the privilege of
squeezing the man under him. Mutiny
was afoot, rebellion, but it had not yet
found a head. The natives wanted a
change, something to gossip about dur
lng the hot, lazy afternoons, over their
hookahs and coffee. To them reform
meant change only, not the alleviation
of some of their heavy burdens. The
talk of freeing slaves was but talk;
slaves were lucrative investments; a
man would be a fool to free them. An
old man, with a skin white like this
new queen’s and hair like spun wool,
dressed in a long black cloak and a
broad-brimmed hat, had started the
agitation of liberating the slaves. More
than that, be carried no idol of his
God, never bathed in the ghats, or
took flowers to the temples, and seemed
always silently communing with the
simple iron cross suspended from his
neck. But he had died during the last
visitation of the plague.
They had wearied of their tolerant
king, who had died mysteriously; they
were now wearied of the council and
Umballa; in other words, they knew
not what they wanted, being People.
Who was this fair-skinned woman
who stood so straight before Umbal
la's eye? Whence had she come? To
be ruled by a woman who appeared to
be tongue tied! Well, there were worse
things than a woman who could not
talk. Thus they gabbled in the ba
zaars, round braziers and dung Hres.
And some talked of the murder The
proud Ramabai bad been haled to
prison; his banker’s gold had not
saved him. O, this street rat Umballa
generally got what he wanted. Ra
mabai s wife was one of the beauties
or Hind.
Through the narrow, evil smelling
streets of the bazaars a man hurried
that n gilt, glancing behind frequently
to see if by any mischance some one
followed. He stopped at the house of
Lai Singh, the shoemaker, whom he
found drowsing over his water pipe.
“Is it well?" said the newcomer, in
toning.
"It la well,” answered Lai Singh,
dropping the mouthpiece of his pipe.
He had spoken mechanically. When
he saw who his visitor was bis eyes
brightened. “Ahmed?"
“Hush!” with a gesture toward the
ceiling.
“She is out merrymaking, like the
rest of her kind. The old saying: if a
man waits, the woman comes to him.
I am alone. There is news?”
“There is a Journey. Across Hind to
Simla.”
“The hour has arrived?”
“At least the excuse. Give these to
one in authority with the British raj,
whose bread we eat.” Ahmed slid
across the table a very small scroll.
“The memsahib is my master’s daugh
ter. She must be spirited away to
safety.”
"Ah!" Lai Singh rubbed his fat
hands. “So the time nears when we
shall wring the vulture’s neck. Ai, It
Is good! Umballa, the toad, who swells
and swells as the days go by. Shiva
has guarded him well. The king picks
him out of the gutter for a pretty bit
of impudence, sends him afar to Um
balla, where he learns to speak Eng
lish, where he learns to wear shoes
that button and stiff linen bands round
the neck. He has gone on, gone on!
The higher up, the harder the falL”
“The cellar?”
“There are pistols and guns and
ammunition and strange little wires
by which I make magic fires.”
“Batteries?”
“One never knows what may be
needed. You have the key?”
“Yes.”
"Hare Sahib's daughter. And Hare
Sahib?”with twinkling eyes.
“In some dungeon, mayhap. There
all avenues seemed closed up.”
“Umballa needs money,” said Lai
Singh, thoughtfully. “But he will not
find It,” in afterthought.
“Tomorrow?”
“At dawn.”
These two men were spiders In that
great web of secret service that the
British raj weaves up and down and
across Hind, to Persia and Afghanis
tan, to the borders of the Bear.
Even as Lai Singh picked up his
mouthpiece again and Ahmed sallied
forth into the bazaars Umballa had
brought to him in the armory that
company of soldiers who had shown
such open mutiny, not against the
state, but against him.
Gravely he questioned the captain.
“Pay our wages, then, heaven born.”
said the captain, with veiled insolence.
"Pay us, for we have seen not so much
as betel money since the last big
rains.”
“Money,” mused Umballa, marking
down this gallant captain for death
when the time capm.
“Ai, money; bright rupees, or, better
still, yellow British gold. Pay us!”
“Let us be frank with each other,”
said Umballa, smiling to cover the fire
in his eyes.
"That is what we desire,” replied
the captain, with a knowing look at his
silent troopers.
"I must, buy you.”
The captain salaamed.
“But after I have bought you?” Iron
ically.
“Heaven born, our blood ia yours to
spill where and when you will.”
From under the teak table Umballa
drew forth two heavy bags of silver
coin. These he emptied upon the table
dramatically; white, shining metal,
sparkling as the candle flames wav
ered. Umballa arranged the coin in
stacks, one of them triple in size.
"Yours, captain," said Umballa, In
dicating the large stack.
The captain pocketed it, and one by
I one his troopers passed and helped
| themselves and fell back along the
' wall in military alignment, bright eyed
1 and watchful.
“Thanks, heaven born!”
The captain and his troopers filed
out. Umballa fingered the empty bags,
his brow wrinkled. Cut off a cobra’s
head and it could only wriggle till
sunset. Umballa gave the vanishing
captain two weeks. Then he should
vanish indeed.
The nest morning while the Coun
cil and Umballa were in session rela
tive as to what should be done with
Kathlyn in the event of her refusal to
A Queen Ir Spite of Herself.
bend, two soldiers entered, bringing
with them a beautiful native young
woman, one Pundita, wife of Ramabai,
found in murder.
Umballa wiped his betel-stained lips
J and salaamed mockingly. Not so long
! ago he had been attentive to this
young woman—after her marriage.
She bad sent him about his business
with burning ears and a hot cheek,
made so by the contact of her strong
young hand. Revenge, great or small,
was always sweet to Umballa.
To the slave girl who attended
Pundita he said: “Go summon the
queen. It is for her to decide what
shall be done with this woman."
Through the veil Pundita’s eyes
sparkled with hatred.
When Kathlyn came in it was at
once explained to her that the worn
i an's husband had been taken for mur
der; by law his wife became the
queen’s property, to dispose of as she
willed. The veil was plucked from
Pundita's face. She was ordered to
salaam in submission to her queen.
Pundita salaamed, but stoutly refused
to kneel. They proceeded to force her
roughly, when Kathlyn intervened.
"Tell her she is free,” said Kathlyn.
“Free?" came from the amazed
Pundita's lips.
“You speak English?” cried Kathlyn
excitedly.
"Yes; majesty.”
Kathlyn could have embraced her
for the very joy of the knowledge. A
woman who could talk English, who
conic, understand, who perhaps could
help! Yes. yes; the God of her fa
thers was good.
Umballa smiled. All this was ex
actly w hat he had reason to expect
Seven days of authority; it would
amuse him to watch her.
“Tell me your story,” urged Kath
lyn kindly. “Be not afraid of these
men I shall make you my lady in
waiting ... so long as I am a
queen.” with a searching glance atUm
balla's face She learned nothing from
the half smile there.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
SANS CLOTHES, SANS DIGNITY
Paul’s Views Concerning Modest
Dress of Women Were Im
bibed in Childhood.
The Tarsians were celebrated for
the extremely modest dress of their
women, who were always deeply veiled
when they went abroad, remarks the
Christian Herald. “As Tarsian ladies
walked in the streets you could not
see any part either of their faces or
of their whole person, nor could they
themselves see anything of their
path.” In this respect they were dif
ferent ffom the women of other cities
which had been more thoroughly Hel
enized. Those early impressions of
Paul’s childhood doubtless account
in part for Paul's strict rules as laid
down to the Corinthians about the
veiling of their women. "Every wom
an that prayeth or prophesieth with
her head uncovered, dtehonoretb her
head.” In another place he says, “The
woman ought to have authority upon
her head.” This should be translated,
we are told, “The woman who has a
veil on her bead wears authority on
her head.” Being interpreted, this
signifies that ‘‘in oriental lands the
veil is the power and the honor and
dignity of the woman; with the veil
on her head she can go anywhere in
security and profound respect; she is
not seen. It is the mark of thoroughly
bad manners to observe a veiled
woman in the street. ... A wom
an’s authbrit.v and dignity vanish
along with the all-covering veil that
she discards. That is the oriental
view which Paul learned in Tarsus.”
Inhabitability of Mar*.
The question of the habitability of
Mars is one on which astronomers
diifer greatly. The sole .evidence in
favor of the existence of intelligent
beings on it is the obviously artificial
nature of the so-called canals as some
astronomers see them. There cannot
be said to be evidence of additional
canal construction on the planet, the
whole question of the existence of any
canal being still a matter of contro
versy.
*- "
Good Things Must Be Used.
Good is no good, but If it be spent;
God gives good for no other end.—
Spenser.
__—
'. 1
IF you are looking for something
in a style of hair dressing consider
this revival of one of the fascinating
achievements of the time of the Em
pire. After due consideration one is
constrained to ponder as to whether
we have ever had anything better
since then. A century and more has
faded into the past since this coiffure
played its part, along with other super
excellent modes, which helped the
beauties of Napoleon's time to immor
talize their charme.
This pretty arrangement of the hair
in waves and short curls is not intend
ed to be worn with workaday clothes
in the prosaic business of everyday
living. It is an affair of evening dress,
when satins and laces and jewels and
flowers bespeak joyous appareling.
Mile. Montague is shown in the pic
ture wearing it with a satin and lace
evening dress with flowers at her belt
and pearls about her neck. Her long
coat'is of brocaded Batin in rose color,
bordered with a ruche of plaited ma
line. She wears a moire girdle of
rose color, also. Her garments are
the most tasteful of up-to-date modes.
The hair is waved and parted a little
to one side in a very short part. This
waved portion is brought to the back
of the head and arranged in loose, flat
coils pinned flat below the crown. The
hair over the ears is separated into
strands and curled in three rather
tight curls. A strand of pearls, fin
ished with three settings at the front,
is clasped round the head. Below it
across the forehead there is a slightly
curled fringe of hair.
Almost any fairly youthful face will
find all its good points enhanced by
a style of hair dressing so remarkably
good that it challenges the classic
models of the Greeks and divides hon
ors with them.
Vestees and Collars in Fall Styles
TO make sure of a bit of white next
the face is to be sure of added be
comingness in coat or gown. Vestees
and collars jn one, or collars alone,
are the dominating features in fall
neckwear, and they are shown in many
fabrics and a still greater number of
designs.
Nearly all of these smart accessories
are made of washable fabrics, al
though fragile chiffons and silk mus
lins and the finest of silk crepes are
utilized to make the short-lived glory
of some of them. But crisp freshness
and immaculate cleanliness belong to
the vestee and collar; are the essen
tial reasons for their existence, in
fact, so that all the finest and sheerest
of wash fabrics are employed in their
making. These include organdie,
swiss, thin lawns, swiss embroidery,
batiste, mulls, nets, voiles and laces.
The choice is wide enough.
Collars and vestees made the firm
er weaves in wash fabrics are finished
with hemstitching and often decorated
with tucks. Insertions and narrow
edgings of fine lace or the finest em
broideries are used on them.
■ The daintiest of these neck pieces
are prettily ornamented with sprays of
embroidery. Narrow plaited frill*
make possible a great variety in deco
ration. Hemstitching. embroidered
dots, and small pearl or covered but
tons are additional factors that go to
make up the endless variety one finds
in neckwear.
Roll-over collars are leaders in pop
ularity, combined either with long
vestees or short dickies. Severe de
signs, like that shown in the picture
given here, of sheer organdie, are
charmingly delicate. A plain roll-over
collar to which net ties are attached
is decorated with tiny black pearl but
tons and makes a stunnilig finish for a
tailored gown.
Vestees and roll-over collars of
pique are compelling attention. Re
cently dress sets showing collar and
cuffs to match, or collar, vestee and
cuffs, proclaim the revival of an old
but fine style, well worthy of a new
vogue.
There is literally no end to the
number of designs in neckwear. With
so many fabrics available and a free
field for the play of fancy in a world
of inexpensive materials we are likely
to find new things every day.
I JULIA BOTT0MLEY.
A Rose on the Shoulder.
A rose on the shoulder Is the latest
whim of fashionable milady. Of course,
the rose matches or harmonizes with
the gafwn or its trimming. For ex
ample, & white tulle dancing costume
with a pink sash has a pink rose
caught against the shoulder; a yellow
dance gown, with which jet beads are
worn is embellished with a yellow and
black rose; a deep American beauty
rose may lend color to a black tulle
gown. Sometimes the shoulder roses
are Interchangeable, snap-buttons
%
8eJed t° bodices and Uttle ends of
ribbon tied to the rose stems, making
it possible to wear various roses with
various frocks. The rose is worn high
on the shoulder, near the chin. Just at
the edge of the deeply V’d decolletnge
Still Looking.
"Was the man here today to look for
the gas leak, Kate?"
‘‘Yes, ma’am,”
“Did he find it?”
Yes, ma’am; but they haven't found
the man yet"
