is stamped in the best wet'1’,
cases made. It is the turn*
mark of the Keystone It mu,
Case Company, of Philadelphia,
the oldest, largest and best
known factory in the world—
1500 employees,capacity2000
cases daily. Its products are
sold by all jewelers. It makes
the celebrated Jas. Boss Filled
Watch Cases, now fitted with
the only bow (ring) which can
11 otbepulled off the case—the
Ask your jewelerfor pamphlet.
MYSTERIES!
The Nervous System the Seat
of Life and Mind. Recent
Wonderful Discoveries.
No mystery has ever compared with that of
human life. It has been the leading subject
of professional research and study in all ages.
But notwithstanding tills fact it Is not gener
any Known
that the seat
of life is loca
v ted in the ujp
\ per part of the
\spinal cord,
| | near the base
i ) of the brain
) and so sensi
/ tive is t h i r
' portion of the
nervous sys
tem thateven
the prick of a
needle will
cause instant
death.
necenn aiscovenes nave aemonstraiea mat
all the organa of the body are under tho con
trol of the nerve centers, located in or near
t he base of the brain, and that when these are
deranged the organs which they supply with
nerve fluid are also deranged. When it is re
membered that a sorious Injury to tho spinal
cord will cause paralysis of the body below
the injured point, because the nerve force is
prevented by tho injury from reaching the
paralyzed portion, it will be understood how
the derangement of the nerve centers will
cause the derangement of the various organs
which they supply with nerve force.
Two-thtrds of chronic diseases are duo to
tho imperfect action of the nerve centers at
the base of the brain, not from a derange
ment primarily originating in the organ it
self. The great mistake of physicians in
treating these diseases is that they treat the
organ rather than the nerve centers which
are the cause of the trouble.
Dr. Franklin Miles, the celebrated spe
clalist,has profoundly studied this subject for
over 20 years, and has made many important
discoveries in connection with it, chief among
them being the facts contained in the above
statement, and that the ordinary methods of
treatment are wrong. All headache, dizzi
ness, dullness, confusion, pressure, blues,
mania, melancholy, insanity, epilepsy, St.
Vitus dance, etc., are nervous diseases no
matter how caused. The wonderful success of
Dr. Miles’ Restorative Nervine is due to the
fact that it is based on the foregoing principle.
Dr. Miles' Restorative Nervine is sold by
all druggists on a positive guarantee, or sent
direct by Dr. Miles Medical Co., Elkhart.
Ind., on receipt of price, 81 per bottle, six
bottles for 85, express prepaid. It contains
neither opiates nor dangerous drugs.
TALES FROM
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OH year of the most successful Quarterly
^•vl ever published.
More than 3,000 LEADING NEWSu
PAPERS in North America have complimented
this publication during its first year, and uni
versally concede that its numbers afford the
brightest and most entertaining reading th^t
can be had.
Published ist day of September, December.
March and June.
Ask Newsdealer for it, or send the price,
50 cents, in. stamps or postal note to
TOWN TOPICS,
21 West 23d St., New York.
This brilliant Quarterly is not made up
from the current years issues of Town Topics,
but contains the best stories, sketches, bur
lesques, poems, witticisms, etc., from the back
lumbers of that unique journal, admittedly
the crispest, raciest, most complete, and to ail
MEN AND WOMEN the most interest*
ing weekly ever issued.
Subscription Price:
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You WflHT
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Work Guaranteed. Teeth extracted in the
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DR. R. W. BAILEY,
trance. OMAHA,-- NEB. •*
THE LITTLE BROWN WREN.
There’s a little brown wren that has built In
our tree.
And she’s scarcely as big as a big bumblebee.
She has hollowed a house in the heart of a
limb
And made the walls tidy and made the floor
trim
With the down of the crow’s foot, with,tow
and with straw.
The coziest dwelling that ever you saw'.
This little brown wren lias the brightest of
eyes
And a foot of a very diminutive size.
Her tail is as trig as the sail of a ship.
She’s demure, though she walks with a hop
and a skip.
And her voice—but a flute were more fit than
a pen
To tell of the voice of the little brown wren.
One morning Sir Sparrow came sauntering by
And cast on the w ren’s house an envious eye.
With a strut of bravado and toss of his head,
“I’ll put in iny claim here,” the bold fellow
said.
So straightway he mounted on impudent wing
And entered the door without pausing to ring.
An instant—and swiftly that feathery knight.
All tow'sledand tumbled, in terror took flight.
While there by the door on her favorite j»erch.
As neat as a lady just starting for church.
With this song on her lips, “lie will not call
again
Unless he is asked,” sat the little brown wren.
—Clinton Scollard in Harper's Young People.
A LOYERS’ QUARREL.
Dick and I had quarreled and parted.
I cannot tell you how it all began, or
why it ended in this serious fashion, but
I can assure you I felt very miserable as
I saw him striding away over the fields,
although I had told him to go myself.
Still I never thought he would have taken
me at my word.
“What shall I say to Aunt Maria?” I
thought as I turned my steps homeward.
This was a very serious reflection in
deed, for it had been the dream of Aunt
Maria’s existence to see me united to
Dick Johnson, the handsome only son of
our wealthy neighbor, Sir Henry.
Dick and I had played together as
children, danced together, flirted togeth
er, and final]? fell in love with each
other.
We were to have been married in a
month, and now I had sent him away
and told him I never wished to see him
again.
What was to be done—and, oh dear!
what should I say to Aunt Maria? There
was no help for it, however, but to go
home and explain the situation to the
best of my ability, and accordingly home
I went.
Aunt Maria was in the drawing room,
and I stole softly in and took up a book,
hoping that she would not notice me.
But she saw me directly and inquired:
“Where is Dick?”
“He has gone home,” I replied, trying
to assume an unconcerned manner and
failing most signally in the attempt.
“Gone home? Why! Did yon not tell
him I expected him to dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is he not coming?”
“He had an engagement,” I mumbled.
“For goodness’ sake, child, speak out!
Come here where I can see you. How
red your face is! What is the matter?”
I rose obediently and stood before my
aunt, who fixed a relentless gaze upon
me.
“You have been crying,” she said.
“Now, just tell me the truth at once,
Daisy. Have you and Dick quarreled?”
“Yes,” I faltered.
“And what about, pray?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know!” This in a very
sarcastic tone.
I remained silent and fumbled for my
pocket handkerchief.
“Who began it?” pursued Aunt Maria
sternly.
“I don’t know.”
“Have you broken off your engage
ment?”
“Yes,” I burst forth. “1 hate him, and
I will never speak to him again.” Then
I began to weep copiously.
“If you’re going to howl,” said Aunt
Maria, with bitter irony, “you had better
leave the room. I shall require a full
explanation tomorrow from both you
and Mr. Johnson.”
I fled up stairs and did not appear
again that evening. I passed a wretched
night and had a fearful scene with Aunt
Maria the next morning. She stormed
and expostulated, but I remained firm
in my resolve to return Dick’s ring and
presents that very day.
Accordingly I spent a couple of hours
in crying over them and packing them
up.
After luncheon Aunt Maria announced
her intention of visiting some pensioners
of hers in a village about three miles dis
tant and ordered me to accompany her,
which I prepared to do with a very bad
grace, I fear. We walked for about half
an hour without exchanging a word, and
a more thoroughly ill tempered pair of
pedestrians could hardly have been found
anywhere.
Our way led through some fields, and
on reaching the first gate I noticed a
man leaning against it. As we came up
he opened it for us and politely raised
his hat. He looked like a gentleman and
was dressed in a well fitting suit of blue
serge. I saw that he was a stranger and
wondered where he came from, as stran
gers were rare in our secluded part of
the world.
A little way further on I looked back
and observed that he was following us.
He overtook us before we reached the
next gate, passed us and opened this one
also, again lifting his hat as we went by.
I thought this rather odd, but having
resolved not to speak to Aunt Maria un
til she addressed me I held my peace.
At the third gate the same perform
ance was repeated, but this time the
stranger did not fall behind. He walked
to Aunt Maria's side and asked, “May I
offer you my arm?”
“Certainly not, sir,” was the indignant
rejoinder. “I have not the honor of your
acquaintance, nor do I desire it.”
“At least you will permit me to carry
your umbrella,” continued the stranger
unabashed. Aunt Maria merely snorted,
and clutching her umbrella more firmly
marched on at an increased pace.
“Is there no little service you will al
low me to render you,” pursued our un
welcome companion in tragic tones.
"Go away, sir!” said my aunt furious
ly. “We do not wish for your company.
; Your having spoken to us at all is a
piece of the most unwarrantable imperti
nence."
“Do not drive me from you,” was-the
reply. “I love you. I have loved you
from the first moment I saw you. You
are the only woman I have ever loved.”
And with these words this most ex
traordinary individual threw himself on
his knees right in Aunt Maria's path.
At this point a light broke in upon me.
There was a large private lunatic asy
lum in the neighborhood. This must
surely be one of the patients who had
eluded the vigilance of his keepers and
escaped.
“He's mad,” I whispered to Aunt Ma
ria. “For goodness’ sake humor him or
he will murder us both. I have always
heard they must be humored.”
Aunt Maria, however, paid no atten
tion, and I almost doubt if she even
heard me.
“Let me pass, this instant, sir,” she
gasped, crimson with wrath.
“Never! never! till you promise to be
mine.”
At this point, 1 regret to say, my aunt
lost her temper altogether, and raising
her umbrella she brought it down on
her suitor’s head with such force that
she quite crushed in the top of the bowl
er hat he wore, and which fortunately
protected his skull. For a moment he
seemed petrified with astonishment.
Then he sprang to his feet, and seizing
Aunt Maria in his arms lifted her bod
ily from the ground and carried her
along the path. She struggled violently,
and I followed, screaming for help.
The lunatic strode on until he reached
the gate which led into a field, on one
side of which ran a rather high stone
wall. Upon the top of this wall he
placed my unfortunate aunt and then
stood and calmly surveyed her.
“Take me down! Let me go!” she
shrieked.”
“Not till I have your promise to marry
me,” replied the lunatic. “I am quite
prepared to remain here until tomor
row morningif need be,” he added, with
great coolness.
“Oh, aunt, do say ‘Yes,’” I implored,
: but at this our persecutor turned upon
j me. “Will you have the goodness not
j to interfere?” he said, so fiercely that I
! was terrified and shrank back.
For about 10 minutes Aunt Maria sat
on that wall and raved. Then she burst
into tears. At this juncture I perceived
a man’s figure in the distance. Was he
coming this way? Oh, joy, he was! As
ho drew nearer I saw to my mingled de
light and dismay that it was Dick, and
seeing that the lunatic had his back to
me I ran to meet him.
“Oh, Dick,” I shouted as I came up to
him. “we have been so terribly fright
ened by a madman! He has put Aunt
Maria on the wall and says she can’t get
down until she promises to marry him.
Do come and save her!”
Dick ran quickly to the spot, and the
lunatic turned and faced him.
“You rascal!” cried Dick. “Stand
back and let me take that lady off the
wall.”
“You shall not touch her,” said the
lunatic fiercely.
Dick took him by the coat collar and
flung him aside with such force that he
stumbled and fell. The next instant
Dick had lifted Aunt Maria safely to the
ground. He had scarcely done so when
the madmanleaped upon him, and a ter
rific struggle followed. Suddenly I saw
the lunatic place his hand in the breast
of his coat, and the next instant there
was a flash of steel. He had drawn a
knife.
“Oh, Dick!—oh, my darling!” I scream
ed, “he will kill you!”
In that moment I forgot our quarrel.
I forgot everything except that I loved
him better than anything in the world,
and that he was in peril of his life, and
rushing forward I grasped the madman’s
arm and hung on to it with all my
weight. Aunt Maria screamed lustily
for help, and as I spun round with the
combatants I caught sight of two men
running across the field.
Aid was near, so I clinched my teeth
and held on like grim death. In a few
seconds—it seemed like an eternity to
me—the men were on the spot, and after
a brief struggle the lunatic was secured
and disarmed by the two keepers, who
had been searching for him all day. As
for me, the danger being over, I prompt
ly fainted away. When I came to my
self, Dick was kneeling beside me, sup
porting me in his arms.
“Are you all right?” he asked anx
iously.
“Yes,” I replied, with a smile, “I am
quite well.”
We all three walked home together,
and Dick dined with us that evening.
Afterward, when I accompanied him
into the hall to bid him good night, he
asked as he held me in his arms, “Tell
me, Daisy, would you have been sorry if
that fellow had killed me today?”
“Don’t talk about it, dearest,” I an
swered, with a shudder. “It would have
broken my heart.”
“Then you cannot live without me
after all?”
I leaned against his breast in silence,
and he kissed me very tenderly.
Dick and I have never quarreled since,
and I do not believe we shall ever quar
rel again as long as we live.—New York
Commercial Advertiser.
A Misfit Quotation.
An attache of a religious bookstore in
this city has spent so many years of his
life among theological volumes that he
is Scriptural or nothing, but he some
times evolves a misfit. When his atten
tion was called the other day to a rose
neatly attached to the lapel of his coat
and an insinuation thrown out that a
lady friend might have had something
to do with it, he paralyzed the insinuator
by saying, “No, sir; I gathered that rose
from my own vine and fig tree.”—Pitts
burg Commercial-Gazette.
Basineu Scheme.
Clerk—Might I ask what you intend
to do with these 500 young men you are
advertising for?
Shoe Dealer—I am going to give one
away with each pair of women’s shoes to
keep them—tied.—Indianapolis Journal.
| FOR LITTLE FOLKS.
A Motherly Cat.
“I have frequently heard of hens rais
ing young ducks, but for the first time I
learned today of a cat that is now nurs
ing puppies,” said E. Briggs, president
of the Pacific Kennel club to a Caft re
porter.
“My friend, Billy McEllicott, who is
employed at 650 Market street and who
resides in East Oakland,” continued Mr.
Briggs, “is the fortunate owner of a
motherly cat which is devotedly attached
to well behaved puppies.
“A few days ago a thoroughbred fox
terrier, which McEllicott had imported
from New York last year, gave birth to
seven frail youngsters. The mother be
/A
ing in an enfeebled condition the young
man from East Oakland decided upon
drowning some of the little fellows, and
was in the act of carrying out his inten
tions when a neighbor suggested that he
place some of the puppies in the care of
a cat that was nursing a number of kit
tens in his back yard.
“The suggestion was acted upon. Mc
Ellicott took two of the suckling terriers
from their mother and consigned them
to the care of the cat after the latter’s
progeny, with the exception of one cute
little kitten, were stolen and drowned.
“Now, the strange feature resulting
from the experiment of raising thorough
bred terriers under a foster mother is
that the two little growlers are more
fancied by the feline rat catcher than is
her own little kit, which chums side by
side with the terriers under the watch
ful eye of ‘Mrs. War Cry,’ the name
which tbe cat is known by.
“McEllicott stated,” continued Mr.
Briggs, “that the puppies which the cat
is nursing are much stronger and in far
better condition physically than the ones
which are being nursed by their moth
er.”—San Francisco Call.
A Baby at the North Pole.
When Lieutenant and Mrs. Peary left
for the north pole some time ago, they
took with them, besides good things to
eat and plenty of fur robes, a little tin
bathtub and a baby's cradle. Besides
these there were ever so many baby’s
dresses and some little knitted shoes,
which looked as if they would fit a little
boy very much smaller than you are.
A baby’s wardrobe and a cradle are
queer things to take to the north pole,
are they not? And what do you sup
pose that they are for? Why, for a baby,
to be sure! Suppose, way up at the
north pole, where nobody has ever been,
that Mrs. Peary should find a baby! And
suppose that the baby had no clothes and
no one to take care of it! Think what a
sad thing it would be! Now, if Mrs.
Peary finds such a baby at the north
pole she can dress it in nice little dresser
and can rock it to sleep in a little cradle.
And when she returns to this eountry
two years from now, she will bring th*.
baby along, and then you will all say,
“How very fortunate that those clothes
and that cradle went along!”—New York
Ledger.
A Wicked Boy’s Hot Day Joke.
A woman who lives in the suburbs of
Brooklyn usually places a large tin pan
on her front doorstep to receive the ice
that the iceman delivers to her each
morning. During a recent hot spell her
little grandson, who is full of mischief,
thought that he would play a joke on his
grandmother. The next morning, when
the pan was put on the step, he filled it
partly with water and then yelled ‘ ‘I-c-e!”
It was nearly five minutes before the
grandmother started to take the ice into
the house. She was surprised to find
that the ice had melted so quickly.
Meantime the iceman had come and saw
no pan for the ice. He did not leave the
usual piece, and the grandmother was
telling her neighbors of the unusual heat
until the other day when the young
hopeful told his big brother about the
joke he played.—New York Sun.
Looking In Mother’s Byes.
Pierre and Maurice are French chil
dren. Pierre is the elder brother. It
never has occurred to him to be jealous
of the last comer, Maurice, or to be trou
bled about “his nose being out of joint.”
He is very fond of his small brother
and seems to feel it his duty to see that
he is never neglected or forgotten.
One day he was looking lovingly in his
mother's face, when he happened to
glance at her right eye, and to his de
light he saw his image reflected in it.
“Oh, there is Pierre!” he cried.
Then he looked eagerly into the left
eye and exclaimed in sorrow and sur
prise, “Why, where is Maurice?”—
Youth’s Companion.
On the Lagoon.
[Jackson Park, Chicago, 1893.]
-i-,-—
“Full!” cried the gondolier. Swish! and they
started.
Great was the crowd, but they would not be
parted;
So in they all scrambled—from Clara to Kitty
Little white citizens of the White City.
—Joel Stacy in St. Nicholas.
THE JANE CLUB.
An Orgaaltatinn of Jolly Working GlrU
In Chlci-go and What They Do.
What kind of girls really compose this
remarkable Jane club? To tell it briefly:
Working girls—girls who earn their own
living by good, diligent, honest work
some as stenographers, others as cloak
makers, bookbinders, milliners, dress
makers, shirtmakers, shoemakers, type
writers. In age they range between 18
and 28, all excepting the mother of Miss
Kenney, who is 60 or more and who has
been a member of the club from the be
ginning. In looks they are something
above the average. Three or four are pos
itively handsome. They nearly all dress
well, and as far as manners and speech
go they do not differ from other well
bred women you meet in this town.
Some are jolly and lively and talka
tive, and some are not. Some are—but
what is the use of enumerating atiy more
qualities? They’re just about what you'd
expect a lot of nice young women to be,
except that they’re not as well off in the
matter of money as they themselves and
their best friends might wish. For the
larger part, they’re not native Chicago
girls. Nearly all hail from the interior
of this state, from Wisconsin, Michigan
or Iowa, and they have fathers and moth
ers, brothers ahd sweethearts left behind
there, about whom collectively they care
a good deal and whom they visit as often
as circumstances will permit.
bweetneartsi' Most assuredly. They re
not a parcel of old maids. Far from it.
The best proof of that is that one of their
number, Miss Annie Barry, married no
later than last week, and that Cupid, the
little rascal, has in fact played quite a
deal of havoc in the ranks of the Jane
club within the year of its existence, a
score or so of the members succumbing
to his power and marrying some fellow
probably not half worthy of them. Be
sides, you have only to look at the girls
as they pass you by to feel sure that the
Jane club will need at frequent inter
vals new members to take the places of
those who have left it for husbands.
But those who were the charter mem
bers of the Jane club—the original seven
—have so far remained faithful to it.
But there is of course no telling what
may happen. These seven are Miss
Mary E. Kenney; her mother, Mrs. Ken
ney; Miss Reda Doeing, the present pres
ident, and her sister, Miss Fenie Doeing;
Miss Toomey, Miss Mamie R. Sullivan
and Miss Kelly.
They’re having, of course—that much
will have become quite apparent to every
one by this time—a real pleasant, good
time, those members of the Jane club.
With a nice home, with pleasant sur
roundings and good company all the
while and with excellent and palatable
food, why shouldn’t they? But besides
j that they give entertainments from time
to time, where everybody is bound to
enjoy himself or herself. Little inform
al hops—for which the two large con
necting parlors are just the thing—occur
frequently enough, and there are any
number of girls among them who can
play with some proficiency, such as Miss
Gast, who has been a pupil at Colonel
Ziegfeld’s conservatory for several years,
and Miss Searle and Miss R. Doeing, and
there are others who can sing, and thus
they get up informal or formal musicales
at a moment’s notice. Once in awhile,
too, they entertain on a larger scale, as
when the typographical unions had their
national convention here a conple of
months ago the Jane club gave the dele
gates a delightful reception at their own
home and then adjourned over to the
Hull House, where a regular ball wa3
given in the large gvmnasium.—Chicago
Herald.
Voting No Worse Than Shooting.
A distinguished English woman be
lieves that it would not be as unwoman
ly for her country woman to vote once in
six years as it is for them to be interest
ed in and present at the killing of deer,
game or fish, as many fashionable wom
en are in their visits at country houses.
“Where the whole occupation of the day
and talk of the night is of these things,”
she says, “a woman who would dare say
that she didn’t care how many stags had
been shot and would have preferred that
there should have been none at all would
be looked upon as not merely eccentric,
but extremely disagreeable.”—New York
Post.
Settled Over a Prosperous Church.
The Rev. Eugenia St. John, a regular
ly ordained minister of the Methodist
Protestant church, has been employed
as pastor of the Gordon Place church,
Kansas City. Mrs. St. John is regarded
as one of the ablest ministers in that de
nomination. She lias had charge of a
church at Emporia for several months
and recently has made frequent visits to
Kansas City to preach at Gordon Place
church. Her sermons have proved so
satisfactory that it has been decided to
retain her as the regular pastor.
A Woman’s Unique Suit Against a Town.
At Deerfield, Mass., Mrs. Mary E.
Fisher of South Deerfield, in behalf of
the women voters of Deerfield, has
brought suit against Henry Wait, Alden ‘
Briggs and E. C. Coles, members of the !
board of registers of voters, for $500. j
Through the registers’ interpretation of
the law the women were not allowed to i
register last fall and thus lost the right I
to vote for school committee. The suit!
is believed to be the first of its kind, j
The town will defend the registers. — I
Exchange.
Chocolate Ice Cream.
Two quarts of cream, half pint of !
milk, 4 ounces of chocolate, a pound of
sugar, a tablespoonful of vanilla and the
yolks of 4 eggs. Scald milk and one-half
pint of the cream; add the grated choco
late. Beit yolks and sugar together till
light, add to scalded milk, stir and beat
till smooth. Strain while hot through
fine muslin bag, add the remainder of
the cream and the vanilla, cool and freeze.
Bacon and Sweet Potatoes.
Broil thin rashers of breakfast bacon,
lay on a hot dish and broil thick slices of
cold boiled sweet potatoes. Brown on
both sides, heap in the middle of a dish
and lay the bacon around.
her methods of doing good are practical.”
Miss Gould is a member of Dr. John It.
Paxton’s church and thoroughly identi
fier herself with all of its religious and
benevolent work. Up to th° present time
she has never been a social figure in New
York society, but if nil reports prove
true her debut into fashionable life is
not far off.—New York Letter.
A Picture «if Mn». Lp ikp.
There were cries for Mr.s. Lease. She
was not down for a speech, but she re
sponded in an eloquent manner, for
she is eloquent. Her style is manly, her
voice manly; everything about her ex
cept her appearance is manly. As for
iter appearance, she is in that rather
womanly. She dresses in plain black,
with but a gold chain to relieve its so
briety. Her hair, dark brown, is parted
on the side in front. The characteristics
of her face are a high forehead, smalt
but brilliant eyes, a large nose and a
strong chin, ending in high cheek bones.
When she is speaking, she stands very
erect and gesticulates freqn-.itlv with a
full arm movement, adding thereby a
great deal of irnpre. -iveness to her
words. — Sylvan Reach Cor. Syracuse
Standard.
A SucwsKful Woman Composer.
Miss Blanche Everett has for the last
year or more been before the public as a
composer, anil her songs have met with
much success. Miss Everett and her sis
ter have received a most careful musical
education in Brussels and Paris, and the
great natural gifts inherited from the
maternal ancestors—a Venetian family
settled in Corfu—have thus been culti
vated to a high degree of perfection.
Their father. Colonel Everett, is a dis
tinguished officer and was for many
years military consul in Kurdistan,where
he was the victim of a terrible attack by
brigands, who slashed and wounded him
terribly, but lie eventually recovered.—
London Queen.
Hatpins Superseding Spoons.
The spoon craze has well nigh run its
course. Women who have 100 or 200
spoons of different shapes, sizes and de
signs have turned their backs on the
fad, and now it languishes. But a new
one is springing up in its place—as silly
a fad as ever tempted the soul of woman
to extravagance. It is the collection of
hatpins. Many of these pins would
serve for daggers, ’tis true, but the use
fulness of the dagger is after all circum
scribed. It would perhaps be just as
well if the hatpin craze were punctured
with one of its own weapons.—Exchange.
The Sensible Girl of the Period.
The fin de siecle girl has tabooed tight
lacing. She no longer possesses an 18
inch waist, but is proud to acknowledge
that her waist measures 22 inches. In
the matter of gloves and shoes she has
also reformed—no more pointed toes
and high heels or gloves that split at the
thumb. The feminine world seems to
have given up most of its barbarous cus
toms, earrings included, and set to work
to be comfortable and healthy. May they
long continue in these sensible ideas.—
Philadelphia Stageland.
Women In One Kansas Town.
The returns from the school elections
held throughout Kansas show that the
increase in women’s votes in one year
was nearly 100 per cent. The elections
were held in the country districts and
show that the farmers’ wives and daugh
ters are abreast of the equal suffrage
movement. At Sunnyside, Lincoln coun
ty, all the women but three attended the
annual school meeting, and they cast 4,‘J
per cent of the vote.—Boston Woman’s
Journal.
But One Man Objected.
The W. C. T. U. Bulletin of Colorado
Springs says that Miss Stockton of Grand
Junction, in circulating a suffrage peti
tion, found but one man in over 100 who
declined to sign, and he had recently
come to the state. At Lake City a re
cent lecture upon franchise brought out
the two pastors of the place as well as a
general expression in favor of the pro
posed change in state citizenship.
In Favor of Women Preaching.
Dr. Parkhurst of New York, in a dis
course on “Gospel Preaching” at the Lex
ington (Ky.) Chautauqua, said that lie
was in favor of women preaching if the
people want them to; that women should
enjoy this right as well as men, and that
his pulpit is open to women who have
the gift of prophecy.
Mrs. Stowe Nearing the End.
Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe is so fee
ble that the announcement of her death
would cause no surprise. The gifted
authoress lives in Hartford, surrounded
by loving friends, rich in years and hon
ors, passing her few remaining days in
peace and comfort.
When Miss Sybil Sanderson was sing
ing at Paris the other day, she noticed a
child imitating her. As her song died
away she listened to the echo of the
child's voice and was so fascinated by
its sweetness that she has decided to ed
ucate the little singer.
Miss Thornton, Queen Victoria's old
est servant, who has been state house
keeper at Buckingham palace, has just
resigned at the age of 80 years. She had
been 40 years in her majesty's service.
At a recent dinner of journalists in
London the gallant toast, “Woman—The
Fairest Work In All Creation; the Edi
tion Is Large, and No Man Should Be
Without a Copy,” was proposed.
Women are heroic in crises, petty about
trifles. The same woman who worries
her husband about the way he wears out
his clothes would lay down her life for
him with a smile.
Mrs. Annie Besant is coming to this
country on her way to India to repre
sent theosophy at the parliament of re
ligions in Chicago.
The only earrings admissible are the
tiniest things you can get, and they must
be screw ones.
