.
MICHAEL
HE had just returned from tin
crowded concert hall , where sh (
had uijojwl a veritable triumph
Her face was . .ushed and smiling , am
she still held in Iier bauds the greal
bouquet of r P her favorite flower
which had been given her as she lefl
the plntfoim. She was recalled to hej
/ surrou : d.ijb : b. , tue voice of her maid ,
Fanch n.
'Thre .s n telegram for madame or
the ttble. " . hy uiid. Denise picked ii
up ; it was nujivgsed to "airs. Fielden , '
whic.'j was : : i : sujl. She was knowr
to the I. . : : 0.1 v/.rld and her friends as
"M _ < I. . : u. " She opencxl it sharp
ly. It was brief and to the point :
"I think it is right to'let you know
that the boy is seriously ill. Michael. "
Unconsciously she crusned the message -
age in hsr hand , and her thoughts flew
to the Lincolnshire village where it had
been written. She saw again the flat
fen-land , the long stretches of empty
wastes , which she had grown to loathe ,
almost to fear ; all the grayness and bar
renness which-were so antagonistic to
her gay , beauty-loving nature. Then the
scent of the roses smpte her sharply ,
she saw the luxury of her own sur
roundings , the signs of taste and mon
ey everywhere , and turning to the maid ,
she cried :
"Bring me an 'A. B. C. ' and-pack a
bag. L am going Into the country. "
"Shall I attend , madame ? "
"No , I don't know how long I shall be
'away. I will write. " Her lips twitched
as she thought of the fashionable
French 'maid in the bare manorhouse
with old Hannah for company.
"I wonder if he is really yery ill ? "
she pondered , as she sat in the train.
"I think Michael would scarcely have
sent for me uuless he were. The meetIng -
Ing will l > e as awkward and uncomfort
able for him as for me.Pooi \ little Mich
ael what a name to give a child ! I
wonder what he is like .now ? He was
not a pretty or interesting child. I re
member he was always crying. " '
There was no one to meet her when
she arrived , but that she did not expect ,
though the village fly had been sent to
the station on the chance of her com
Ing.
Ing.After
After a drive of nearly an hour she
recognized a familiar gateway ; she re
membered the old coat-of-arrns cut in
the stonework , though she could not see
It now , with the motto , "I live ! I die :
Yes , that was all the Fieldeus bad-been
doing for generations. It was a decay
Ing race , and they had not had the en
ergy , or perhaps thepower , to stop the
ruin that was creeping on them , and
the man who lived there now had grown
sour and bitter with his balked life.
"Master is upstairs , " old Hannah said
distantly , in reply to Denise's greeting.
"He hoped you would excuse him com
ing down , but the child is very restless
to-night , and can't well be left. If you
will please to sit down and take some
thing I will.tell him you are here. " And
she opened the door of a room where a
frugal meal was laid.
"I don't want anything , thank you ,
Deulse said , hastily. " 1 will go up at
once if I may , " and before Hannah
could raise any objection she was half
way up the stairs.
I She ncard a murmur from the oak
bedroom , where the head of the house
was always born and where most of
them had died , ar.d tapping lightly on
the door she went in. No one had heard
her , and for an instant she stood as
though arrested on the threshold. What
a great loom it was _ ! And how solitary
those two figures looked in it !
I ain jprry to trouble you , " the man
getting up as she moved. "I am
afraid you have had a long , tiring jour
ney ; but I thought you ought to know. "
"You did quite right , " she said , thick
ly. What a pitiful.little shrunken form
It was , looking almost lost in the vast
oak bedstead , of which it was a tradi
tion that each successive Fielden should
carve a panel , so that It had always
seemed to Deriise a weird resting-place ,
belonging to the dead rather than the
living. She hr.d woke up more than
once on a moonlight night fancying
ghostly fingers had come back to finish
what here and there had been left in
complete.
"Oh , you poor little soul ! " she cried ,
a sob in her voice , and the next mo
ment her arms were over the bed , and
the little figure was gathered to her
breast , where she crooned over it , callIng -
Ing her baby , her little Michael , whom
"she had treated so badly , reproaching
herself and showering soft kisses on
the wan face in the same breath.
- "He is very weak ; you must not ex
cite him , " a warning voioe said. She
had forgotten that any one was there ,
and the calm , measured'tones were like
a rebuff. The old feeling of restraint
and fear held her for a moment , but
the mother love , which had woke up for
the first time at sight of ttie forlorn ,
suiferiJig child , rose stronger than any
thing e'.se.
"I shall not hurt him , " she said , hold
ing th , ? boy close to her breast. "See ,
he is already more content. " The little
face certainly looked less tired and
trouble d. and one wasted arm had gone
up arjund her neck , while he made him
self-at home as a matter of course in
- tlios-v .unknown . arms.
"IIis he been long like this ? " she
asked. "You ought to have told me ,
b.foie. "
I- was never strong , as you may re-
inc.t 'KT. " he answered coldly. "He
d ; . ? i.ot take after my family ; he pines
IVr.Viinnth and sunshine , as you did.
] 11 : - . finiir.1 you that you have never
' .e. u i > rc'asrn to think you took any , ,
; r iJttrcst ! n him. I was nvt
at all certain that you would come
now. "
"Not come ! " she exclaimed. Then she
remembered. "I beg your pardon , " she
said humbly ; you are quite right It
is I who am to blame I who am in the
wrong. But but , " her voice growing
husky , "I did not know he wanted me
BO Jbadly. I was so young when I went
away I am not very old now and I
did not understand many things. Per
haps if you had reasoned with me if
you had pointed out "
"Do you think I wanted a captive in
stead of a wife ? " he asked harshly. "I
saw how you fretted and pined like a
caged creature ; I saw the- hunted look
in your eyes ; I knew you would wear
your life out in a little if it went on. "
"It was so dull so dreary , " she mur
mured , "and nobody wanted me , not
even you , I think , after a little while.
I Interrupted your studies ; I was rest
less and disturbed your routine , so when
my legacy came it seemed to open a
way of escape. I thought it was bet
ter for us to go our own road before
we learned to hate each other. I had
a gift , only one , but it would not let
me rest until I had tried what it was
worth. I ought not to have married. "
"No doubt It was a mistake , but in
justice I must say that that was more
my fault than yours. I was years old
er , and I took advantage of your youth
and ignorance to fasten a bond on you
of which you did not understand the
import. No doubt you knew yourself
best. You have the life that suits you ;
you were free to go your own way. "
"As you yours. "
"As I mine. " Something in the voice
made Denise move uneasily. For six
years the man and the child had lived
here together ; her husband , her child.
For six years she had nearly forgotten
them both ; not quite , though she had
tried to do so. The man and the child
had been growing old together with
out love or happiness while she had
laughed and sung. There was nothing
young in the house not even the little
form she held in her arms.
A week had passed , and little Michael ,
thinks ( as the doctor plainly said ) to his
mother's devoted nursing and the in
terest she created in the child's mind ,
was picking up bis frail life again. He
was never tired of looking at her ; or
admiring all the pretty things that gath
ered about her as a matter of course ;
he had never seen so many flowers , so
much dainty luxury in his brief exist
ence.
' "You use these every.day ? " he asked
in an awed voice , as he amused himself
svith the silver pots and bottles on her
Iressing table.
"Yes , every day , " she said with a gay
ittle laugh. "Do you think I am very
extravagant ? "
"Father hasn't anything pretty in his
xx > m , I like to" be here best , " he said ,
ying back luxuriously among the
jright cushions which his mother had
> rdered from the neighboring town. She
> pened her lips to speak , but closed
hem again without a word.
Denise was sitting aloue one evening
n the faded drawing-room when her
msband came in. As a rule she saw
-cry little of him ; they seemed to avoid
: ach other by tactic consent.
"There is something 1 wish to say to
rou when you are at leisure , " he began.
She thought how worn and gray he
joked , though he was a * man in the
rime of life , as he s oed before her , the
ard light from the seating sun show-
ng up the lines on his cold , stern face ,
s It showed up the patches of damp
n the wall paper and the uuloveliness
f the beautifully designed room. He
nd it both seemed thrown away under i
lieir present circumstances. j
"I am quite at your service , " she ani
wered. "Little Michael is in bed and j
sleep , and I have nothing to do. "
"It is about him I wish to speak , " he
aid , as he sat down. "He is almost
rell again now. "
"He is very delicate still , " she said
uickly. "He needs a great deal of care
-he could not stand much. " Could he
lean that they wanted her no longer ?
lie asked herself with a thrill of fear. '
"As you say , he needs a great deal of
ire , " he aaswered slowly. "He also
eeds more comfort and different sur-
jundings to what I can give him. I
ave wondered I have wondered , " he
jpeated , "if you would like to take
im with you when you go ? "
"Like to take him ? " she echoed , her
ice lighting up with joy. "Need you
sk me ? "
"No , perhaps not. I have thought that a
ou seemed attached to him. "
"Attached ? " she repeated again with
laugh. " 1 love him with all my heart , i ]
couldn't bear to be parted from him
aw. But don't 3'ou mind ? " looking at
im witi inward resentment at his in-
iffereuce. "Won't you be very lonely
iihout him ? "
"It will be beet for the child to be
ith you for a time-at least , I think , as
3U are willing to have him. As you
ly , he is not strong enough to stand
ay shock , and he would miss you. I t (
ippose your engagements will necessi-
.te your returning to town socn ? "
"Yes , I ought to have gone before , "
ishing at his evidently anxienty-to get
d of her. "We will go as soon as the
> ctor says he can travel. " Then as he
as leaving the room , "I I should like
P
thank you very mucli for trusting me ,
for letting me have him. " ,
"There Is no need. I have been thmk-
ig it over and it saems best for the
> y , " he answered , as lie closed the
"Of course there would be no thought a
'of me In It , " she said to herself bitter
ly. "I wonder why he hates me *
much now I Once upon a time , " thi
rose color in her cheeks growing deep
er , "I am sure he cared for me mon
than-a little In his curleus restrainet
way. "
It was still early when she went np
stairs to bed , but she -was tired of he ]
own company. As she lit the candle :
the boy opened his eyes he .slept in a
| little bed in her room now and callec
to her.
| "I'm not a bit sleepy. Come and talk
to me , mother , " he said. She sat down
in the low chair and laid her head on hie
pillow as he liked to have her.
"I've got something to tell you , sweet
heart , " she said , tucking one of his
hands under her cheek. "What do" you
think has happened ? You are to. come
with me to mother's home. How will
you like that ? "
A wise and more prudent mother
would have hesitated to excite the child
at that hour , but Denise was a creature
of impulse.
"Go away with you and see all the
beautiful things you have told me
about ? Do you really mean It , mother ?
HQW lovely ! " springing up in" bed with
shining eyes. "And is father coming ,
too ? "
"Father does not want to come , dar
ling. " The childish face grew grave.
"It will "be "dull for father all alone
here , " he said , seriously. "You ask him
to come , mother ; he'll come for you. "
"Not for me , for me perhaps least of
all , " she murmured , forgetting that she
was talking to a child ; but little Mich
ael was wiser than his years.
"Go , now , mother , " he said , coaxingly.
"Try. Wait , I'll tell you a secret ; it
can't be wrong to tell you. Father keeps
a picture of you locked up , I saw him
looking at it one night , and and , " in
an awed whisper , "he kissed it before
he put it away. People must love a" per
son very much to kiss their picture ,
mustn't they , mother ? " Kisses had
been are luxuries in his life.
"Kissed in y picture ? Are you sure ,
little Michael ? " The child nodded ,
watching her Intently. Denise thought
of hoiv she was going to make the deso
late home more desolate , and the tears
rushed to her eyes.
"I'll try , my sonny I'll try for your
sake" she cried , and she went from the
room. Her heart was beating fast with
fear and excitement as she hurried
iown the stairs before her courage fail
ed her. What if he should be angry ;
what if he should repulse her ? She
shivered at the thought.
She softly opened the library door ,
ivhere he was in the habit of sitting at
night. A lamp was burning dimly on
: he table in the center of the room , and j
ts light fell on the bowed head of a '
nan ; some books and papers had been |
> vertunied as he threw out his arms ,
aid mutely emphasized that aspect of
lespair. Denise forgot her fears.
"Michael ! " she cried in a sobbing
oice , her arm round his neck , her cheek
o his "Michael ; I've been a bad wife ,
> ut I want to be a better one. Will
ou take me back ? "
He looked up , and she saw that his
iyes were wet.
"Is that you ? " he said , heavily. What
3 it ? what has happened ? "
"Nothing , " softly , "except that I have
ound out that I want you. We both
rant you , little Michael and I. You
ron't send us away or you will come ,
oo ? "
"Want me youhe said In a husky
rhisper. "Is it really true , Denise ? "
le held her in his. arms as one holds
oraething very precious that one is half
fraid to touch.V"I had almost given up
raying and hoping. " Black and
Fhite.
WOMAN' J PRINCIPLES.
[ est Suitable and Satisfactory Thins
She Can Acquire.
After all that has been done for
mericau women by legislators and
lucators , and college builders and re-
> rmers , it stiH remains true that the
st valuable possessions a normal
ouian can acquire is a suitable and
itisfactory man. Nothing else Is quite
i serviceable in promoting the fulfill-
ent of her destiny and her comfort
bile it is in the process of fulfillment ,
othing else if she Is normal and
; re are very few women who are
> t considerably normal quite takes a
an's place with her , says Harper's
reek\v. One of her most valuable
tfvileges is that of selecting her man ,
picking and choosing and taking
time about it , and possibly even of
ranging her mind after she had be-
m to think she knew it. It Is ob-
rved that women who are good , a-nd
: ve the luck to be charming also ,
.ve great ad'--intages in carrying this
iportant process of selection to a
cccssful issue. More men are avail-
ile for such girls to choose from ,
id once the choice is made the re-
Iting coivtentnieut is more apt to en-
ire and to Avax , instead of diminish-
? . The most that legislatures can
for married wpmen is to protect
eni from bad husbands. Choosing
od ones is a matter of personal en-
: prise which laws can do "little to
omote. But , of course , a woman
10 has fe-w rights and is in complete
ssession of a satisfactory and comj j ti
ttfnt husband is better off than if a
e had more rights and no satisfacH ;
: y means of realizing her destiny. IT ti
B American girl ever has to choose c <
tween her rights and her privileges * '
including the privilege of being &
iirming , and this invaluable privitl
; e of selecting a man that suits her o
{ lie will undombtedly do well , as Miss ti
iskam advises , ' to hold on to her 1"
Ivileges and let her rights go. But a
e will hardly have to make such ak t (
olce. She will retain her privileges , i
yway , and all the rights she' can tl
ike up her mind to want , besides. I m
jls
tVlien a man doesn't use tobacco In ' [
r
y form , we wonder how It happened.
ABRAM'S STEERS.
Good Animal * , but He Had Not Stated
What They Coat Him.
They were all gathered around th
stove in the deacon's store when
Abram Rowland entered , and was
greeted with inquisitive nods and
glances. Abram was a man of affairs ,
and in his cattle-buying expeditions
sometimes traveled far. This brush
ing up against the world , says a writer
in the Boston Herald , gave him an air
of shrewd ability , and his neighbors
were evidently anxious to hear of his
latest purchase.
"That was a fine pair of steers I saw
ye toting up the' road t'-day , Ab'm , "
suggested the deacon.
"Fine a pair as I ever picked up , "
Abram Howland replied , easily. "Well
matched , I s'pose ye noticed ? " he con
tinued.
"Should say's much , " replied the dea
con , admiringly. "How much did they
set ye back , I wonder ? "
This was what everybody wanted to
know , and the audience turned inter
estedly for Abram's reply.
"Oh , I got 'em back here quite n
piece. That nigh one , he come off old
man Tolles' place , up Goshen way.
He's a pretty good rnatch but not qu tt
so good's t'other one. He conn
"
: rom
"What did ye pay fur 'em ? " repeated
the deacon , raising hs ! voice slightly
Abram kept on in his established mon
otone. Apparently he had not heard
the deacon's question.
"You know that Swede , the one that
took up the eld Haskins farm , all run
down to wreck and up to brush.
Well , he had t'other one. I see by my
eye there wa'n't an ounce difference
n their hefts , so I made a dicker f
get 'em both. ' Glad ye all like 'em. "
"Yes , but how much did they tax yt
" "
fur"'em ? ' shouted the deacon. Arm
'Bije Stiles added , "Bet ye. now , the
Swede taxed ye more'n Tolles did. if
truth was known. "
"I didn't consider that any defect , ' '
replied Abram , gayly. "A star more
or less don't make any difference , and
that's as nigh alike as ye can' expect
f pick 'em up , fur apart's them was. "
The deacon got down to Abram's ear
ind shouted , "Abram , I asked ye what
re paid for the pair ? "
"Well , the Swede's hair may be a
Little finer , but what of it ? " demanded
brarn.
"I never see him deaf like this be-
: ore , " apologized the deacon. "Abram
vhat did ye pay for the steers ? "
"Oh , they are yearlings all right. I
; ot their pedigree down fine. And J
: al'late that if I don't dispose of 'em
: or driving , I can fat "em up good for
narket. Now Western beef's getting
; o high we Eastern fellers can work
n a fat critter oucein , a While | without
osing anything. "
By a simultaneous movement the
fathering forced Abram's attention
rom the high joint of stovepipe where
lis eye had been fixed , and shouted
.t him in desperate unison :
"What did them steers cost ye- "
"Did I hear ye ask what they cost ? "
[ ueried Abram , with a twinkle in his
ye. "Now I can't ricollect just this
ainute whether I told anybody yet
rhat they cost. No , I don't think I
ave. But I'll think it over , and if I
emember telling anybody I'll come
ack an' let ye know who it was. "
Jid so saying , Abram struggled to
is feet and stalked out.
The Happy Microbe.
I'd like to be a microbe ,
And with the microbes play ,
Without a tank to fret me
Through all the livelong day.
I'd like to give up striving
To make ends meet , and fare
Wherever fancy led me ,
Without a worldly care.
I'd like the independence
To freely come and go ,
As does the happy microbe ,
With none to say me no.
The microbe serves no master ,
He never has to sigh
O'er chances that escaped him
Or joys he let go by.
His loving wjfe ne'er dopes him
Because his feet get wet ;
He needn't go in springtime
To look for homes ' 'To Let. "
At night his mate ne'er grists ! iim
By running out to say :
"I hope you've had your dinner ,
For Hannah quit to-day. "
His baby never tumbles
Out of its little bed ,
Or crawls beneath the table
To bump its little head.
Hou cleaning has no terrors
That he must ever face ;
He never is besmirched by
A relative's disgrace.
Oh , happy , happy microbe , t
Without a task or care , a
I wonder if you envy t
Some smaller mite somewhere ? P
Chicago Record-Herald. s
a
Valuable Railroad Track.
w
rhe most valuable piece of railroad we
ick in the country lies in the yards
St. Louis. The Iron Mountain and tl
? Missouri Pacific are Gould proper- tln
: s. but at only one point are they
tmected , and that is by a stretch of ii
ick less than two miles long. When iiei
y Gould died he willed this little eis
ick to his daughter Helen , and she
rns every rail and spike ia it. The 9 !
.usfer between the
charges two w
ids over this track pay her $25,000 wb :
year. Miss Gould does not have to
ip up the track , furnish cars , men si
anything else. All that is dqne by si
; roads using the track , , and they
ist also keep the-track in repair. It ei
said to betb best piece of paying eim
'
cksin the worid. ec
echi
sirSvU'S.swBi aS.iaElS XS ,
The Women on the Farm.
Womankind may be divided into two
classes ; those who live In towns or
cities , and those who live in the coun
try. Each class has its own peculiar
advantages , though at first sight it
may seem as though the former pos
sess the greater number. A closer
thought , however , will show that the
woman on the farm can lead an equal
ly happy life if she will make use of
the advantages within her reach. But
therein lies the trouble. The average
farmer's wife does not accept the
chances for increasing her happiness.
One by one she lets them slip past
intent oh her many duties. She cer
tainly has to work very hard , doing
very often tasks which are beyond her
strength ; and In doing them , too , In
such an uncomplaining way that sel
dom is her labor appreciated at its
real worth. In this way she makes
the mistake of thinking that for her
life means simply long periods for
work and shorter ones for rest. Day
after day brings the same monotonous
routine , and gradually life narrows
down to a circle of never-ending du
ties , with little .pleasure or recreation ,
not a. pleasant prospect , and yet a
true one in many cases.
But all this can be changed by
means of common sense and determi
nation. Life was never intended to be
spent by anyone wholly In toiling.
Happiness can be had for the seek
ing ; and very necessary is it for the
farmer's wife to seek earnestly for
it She must remember that work is
not the only duty. There are others
equally important requiring her atten
tion , and among them comes first the
enjoyment of as many pleasures as she
can obtain ; and they am be found in
the country as well as in the town.
There are various ways by which the
woman on the farm can make her life
more joyous. One is by taking good
care of her health and saving herself
is much as possible. This is her first
luty to her husband and children , and
in accomplishing it she needs all the
help she can get. There is no reason
tvhy there should not be in many
farmhouses , where circumstances al
ow it , modern inventions and laborsaving -
saving devices which would materially
ighten the housework. The practical
: armer prides himself on keeping up
vith the times in the implements he
ises. Then why should not his'wife
lo the same , and thus lengthen her life
) y years ? Let her see to it , then , that
ittention Is persistently called to this
natter , until the desired results are se-
: ured.
Lastly , there' is the virtue of hospital-
ty , which can be practiced on the
arm in winter as well as in summer.
iVhy not plan an occasional social
fathering , invite a few of the neigh-
M > ring women over to tea , and have a
pleasant time together ? Only extra
vork , perhaps , you think , and what
peed would it do ? Ah , much ; try the
experiment yourself and see.
Like everyone else , however , the
roman on the farm must early de-
Ide foe herself what things in life are
eolly worth living for. She must
hoose , between the trivial and the Im-
and aim at beautiful sim-
everything. Many pressing
.uties may be near at hand , but , tak-
ag them in the best way , she will
eon realize that they are not the main
ndfi to keep in view , but are only
tops In making a happy , cheerful
ome. For , after all , it is not so much
he place where we live , be 'it town or
gantry ; not so much how large or
ow amll the income may be , as it is
tie coltiYmtion of a sunny dlsposl-
on , a hbpeCul i > lrit , which seeks and
f
ndsjoy everywhere. And in theaa
nd In many other ble ungs the -srom-
n on the farm may freely and con-
antly share , if she will but majce an
DTort to gain and give the best re-
artis of life joy and happiness.
armers' Advocate.
Th y Do't Marry.
WGl it be too much for human -t
eduHty if I assort that the woman
ofeasoc does have love affairs ? Al- *
iocgh not a statement which can be
oved by statistics , I am prepared to
ake much upon the universality of
5 truth. I would add that some of
e peculiar features of her social po
tion and of her ueual views of life
nd to complicate the matrimonial I *
obtem as it is presented to her to
Ire. * * * More than one suitor ono
td I hare split upon such rocks as o
tiether in furnishing our honia his la
me ( It always B ems to be "his" )
more properly be expended upon 'fi :
0 purchase of a piano or a sewing ai
ichlno. To descend from metaphor ,
* * I have not found that ready
isculine cornpcehenjBion which ii
uld have vrlahed of my very de * p- .
ited , and as I think legitimate , foal- _ .
1 that it would be an unspeakable
* °
crtflce to exchange the work to
lieu my best efforts and dearest am
ices hartf been given for a life of- ap
th
re domesticity merely for the con-
iarably overeatimated boon of being
Sported , no matter how well. * *
those geHtiecnenwho are at prcs- wl
t disquieting themselves over the sq
> ment > us question why thehigher sqme
seated * woman Trill not marry , per- me
ps the foregoing may offer a hint. mewi
May It not be because when her rela
tions with all men are so agreeable
she hesitates to exchange them for
the highly problematical delights of
a relation with one ? Being the super
ficial sex , we naturally value more
highly the bird in hand of congenial
interests than the two of a conjugal
felicity which Is very much in the
bush. Confessions of a Woman Pro
fessor in Independent. f
When Mother Died.
They told me in the night that she was
dead ,
And then I knew from out my life had
fled
All beauty ; that thenceforth my pathway
led
In lonely lands ; that I should miss th
red
Of woodland roses and the morning'H
glow.
For she was my best friend ! The words
rhe said
In prayer each night beside my trundle
bed
I still recall ; the pillow then she spread
With such a touch that I no more can
know !
She sought the smoothest ways for m
to go ,
And her sweet faith brought all th
mountains low !
rhe seeds of kindness that she planted
grow
Ire blooming now unharmed by frost or
snow ,
By crystal dews from heaven nightly
fed !
Ind when I dwell upon the long ago
3er smile to me is bright as was the
bow '
Co those upon the flood ; I uyss it so
* ow when the winds unbridled wildly
blow
And rain descended on my defenseless
head !
An Accomplished Girl.
A girl's education is most incomplete
inless she has learned :
To sew.
To cook.
To mend.
To dress neatly. . |
To keep a secret. . , # , . * *
To avoid idleness. " ? ,
To be self reliant.
*
To darn stockings. ,
To respect old age. * - * & *
To make good bread.
To keep a house tidy.
To be above gossiping.
To make home happy. t
To control her temper.
To take cere of the sick.
To take care of the baby.
To sweep down cobwebs.
To marry a man for his worth.
To take plenty ef active exercise.
To be a helpmate to her husband.
To keep clear of trashy literature.
To be light-hearted and fleet-footed.
To be a womanly woman under all
ircumstances.
Woman Candidate Defeated.
Mns. Nettie Catlin , who ran for May-
of Hartville , Wyo. , stands as a novel
jure in politics. Although she was
defeated the cam
paign doubtless
will be a precedent
that will be follow
ed in other Wyom
ing cities. The
women of Hart-
ville , not being
pleased with the
city government ,
held a caucus and
named
MBS. CATLIN. "
. ,
.
. dent ticket , f
Crs. Catlin at the head. The race was
d e one , but Judge J. J. HauphanfC
reflected Mayor for the tkird
No woman ever ran for Mayor
r * ' * Mrs Catlta to
le wife of Dr. George S. Oatlhva
rotninent mining man , well -known
inxigfaout Wyoming and Colorado.
Thirst and Baby' . Veil
Give the. baby water six times a "dav
canaot dwell upon this command
oth too muc'h earnene < * . B
offer with a thirst that nothln
* n f ectnaUy sa
who have them In
Hake its ve
ciuffoa selected
especially for
Uspurpose , edged with a delicate
.ee heading , through which baby
> is and finished
drap In
ieicbsl . These
are held i
rer the cap with baby pins >
. -e U Tnrfcev
Ihe dowry of a Turkish bride
: ed by custom at about
$1 70
aount , r politic reasons , is
parted from , even by tfe-
* Idinff day Is invariab/
A the customary wedding
fin on Monday ana
carried
and each
bj a different
o ns or forks or wines
Imkstained
Dip your ftacors into
and the inlc stains
disappear. It i
