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* * ^ '• wjfWf;:&1 •Y^jF "-, J' :' v ^'.;r - :, /;iy'" ;.. 'Sk&m** WE MF^HENRY PiAiraEALim, ̂ HEXRY; w\ The Heart of i ByVin8te B Roe Night'-Wind Illustrations by Ray Walters A STORY OF THE GREAT NORTHWEST SYNOPSIS. Blletz of Daily's lumber camp directs « tstr&ngeff1 to tlie camp. Walter Sanary Introduces^ himself to John Dally, fore­ man, as "(he Dilling-worth Lumber Co.. or most of It." He makes acquaintance with the camp and the work he-Iras come from the East to superintend and make successful. He writes to his father that lie intends to pet a handful of the wealth In the uncut timber of the region. CHAPTER V--Continued. Sandry was enjoying her succinct precision of knowledge and expres­ sion. "And you've spent all these years in the midst of this wet-bianket cli­ mate?" he smiled, "How in the world did you 'do it--and keep your cheer­ fulness?" "Son," said Ma Daily kindly, "you «an knock the country tb me, but don't you go doin' it where the men'll hear you. Us web-feet are used to the rain, but we don't like to hear the Easterners talk about it It's a chip on every Oregbnian's shoulder. You don't want to queer yourself." There was a flote of genuine good advice in the words and tone, and Sandry got a sudden insight into sev­ eral little happenings that had puzzled him--for instance, the emphasized wearing of blue shirts in a rain that had soaked h's overcoat, and a few remarks about the fact that Oregon rafn didn't wet through. "Thank you. Mrs. Daily," he said earnestly with a sudden feeling of friendship between him and this shrewd, kindly old general of men. He turned presently to the girl, busy in the lamplight, her black head shining. a shadow over her eyes. "By the way." he said, "if you care to you may ride Black Bolt whenever you wish." She nodded quietly, without a flicker of the pleasefl excitement he had ex­ pected in the light of her seeming pas­ sionate love o+ the animal, but a slow, dull flush spread upward in her dark, face and her f.ngers trembled a bit, he fancied, oh th9 reeds. They trembled in all surety the next morning, whel, with a bridle of colored and woven horsehair over her arm, she entered the lean-to. Black Bolt was a gentleman born. Though he was wild as the girl for the free air, the green slopes and the yielding sod under his feet, he stood still while she came up lightly, as a cat springs, with a little soft alighting, and they were gone, down over the smooth slope of the valley toward the lower rollway. There were two interested specta­ tors to that splendid flight--Ma Daily from the cook-shack porch, who wiped her eyes a bit and said aloud: "Bless the child! Wild--wild! But it's nat­ ural," and Walter Sandry standing at the south window of the office. "Did you like it?" Sandry asked her amusedly that evening as he passed through the eating room. "Yes," said Siletz with her belying quietness. "I believe I've found a study," he said to himself as he went on, "a worthy study in human nature." And Siletz had found a new heaven and a new earth. Something wild with­ in her that had ever moved restlessly broke forth, a glorious flower of ec­ stasy. Day by day thereafter she loosed Black Bolt and sped into fields of Elysium, lost to earth. Intoxicated, mad with the rush of wind and rain. Always when she came back there was the dusky flush in her face, the sleepy look of intoxication in her eyes. Thus winter closed in on the lonely camp in the mountains, blue-black and gray with mist and rain and vivid green with the new grass of the coast country. i^the lower rollway a group of loggers came stalking in their spiked boots. Behind them Murphy rocked excitedly along in the tiny locomotive. Sandry shut his ledger and stepped outdoors. "What's the matter, Collins?" he asked of a huge man in the lead, a perfect type of the logger of the great Northwest, sun-browned, hard-mus cled, wiry of figure and WlLh the en­ durance and power of a blill elephant. "Matter enough. Them damned Yella Pines's sawed five piles in th' rollway an* tore up two lengths of track." Sandry went ahead down the track and found a state of things sufficient to raise the ire of any riverman or timberjack. Where the track approached the roll- way it had been torn up bodily, the ties and rails thrown into the narrow slough, as evidenced by a few pro­ jecting ends, and the rollway itself, a slanting floor of logs some two feet thick supported on a group of gradu­ ated piles, sagged in the center where two piles had been cut and pried side- wise. The lower edge also drooped for the same reason. It had been the work of p.UTB malice, that he saw at a glance. "Collins," he said as the men came up in a sullen group, "get to work and see if you can raise those sawed sup­ ports and pry them back on their bases." The gang went slowly down the sharp bank of the tidewater slough. "Johnny Eastern," said one softly, "all right, all right! Prize up a roll- way! My Aunt Maria!" Sandry stood near, realizing his lim­ itations and raging helplessly, watch­ ing them lazily testing and pushing here and there. "Hadn't we better just spike 'em on to the sides?" asked Collins, with a droll upward glance. Sandry wap about to reply when John Daily slipped down from the track beside him under the lee of the dam­ aged rollway. '"Collins." he said sternly, "you get back to camp and bring tools--peavies, hooks, a couple of chains and some picks. Bring a couple of axes, too. What do you mean by such business?" "Orders," said Collins with a grin. "You see, Mr. Sandry," said Daily apologetically, "there's no fixin' such CHAPTER VI. Trouble With the Yellow Pine*. Walter Sandry Bat in the office at the( slough's edge, busy with file and ledger. Two months had passed and something had lifted from him in the?e two months, a weight had light­ ened. Where had been a huge dis­ gust, almost intolerable in its in­ tensity, for this rain-soaked land, there had crept in an insidious admiration. Often now he looked down the green little valley sharply defined between its binding hills and felt the Bubtle charm of the intimate shadows, the near white dusk and the great treeB under whose drooping feathery boughs there lay silence and a sense of ref­ uge. t Suddenly there came to him a clam­ or of voices, oaths and the throaty tones of strong men in anger. Up from ADD TO BEAUTY OF EARTH Writer'. Tribute to the Tree Is Worthy ' of Remembrance Throughout V the Ages. »is Oh! Don Pepino, old trees in their living state are the only things that money cannot command. Rivers leave • their beds, run into cities and traverse mountains for it; obelisks and arches, palaceB and temples, amphitheaters and pyramids rise up like exhalations at its bidding; even the tree spirit of man, the only thing great on earth, crouches an<J cowers in its presence-- it passes away and vanishes before venerable trees. . . . How many loud and how many lively thoughts have > been nurtured under this tree' hew many kind hearts have beaten here! Its branches are not so numerous as the couples they have invited to sit beside it, nor its blossoms and leaves together as the expressions of tenderness it 11 hss witnessed. What appeals to the 1 pure, all-seeing heavens! what simil­ itudes to the everlasting mountains: what protestations of eternal truta : j --fcroat tfow* who , "I Don't Just Know." timbers as them, not when they've got to carry such weight. They'll have to be taken out entirely an' new ones set." "I didn't know," returned Sandry frankly; "won't they hold back the work?" "A day or so, mebbe. We can take the fallers out an' put them on with Collins an" the rest. There's enough down to keep the buckers busy a day or two, anyway. We won't lose much." "Do you think this is the work of the Yellow Pines people, Daily?" "Sure," said Daily with certainty, "they've done worse than this before now. Cut our best cable two years ago and twice they've run the dinkey off the track into the slough. They're bad actors." "But what's the use? What do they gain?" "They want to run us out of the hills. Been at it for ten years. They're just givin' you a hint as the new owner." now e^rth; they and their shrouds and their coffins. The caper and fig tree have split their monuments, and boys have broken the hazel nut with the fragments. Emblems of past lives and future hopes, severed names which holiest rites united, broken letters of brief happiness, bestrew the road and spepk to the passerby in vain.--Wal­ ter Savage Landor. The repairing of the damaged roll- way was another revelation to the easterner. New timbers were brought down and the slanting floor was thick­ ly underpinned. Then with pick and shovel the men went at the work of digging out the damaged timbers. The work was heavier, more dangerous and disagreeable by reason of the water, four feet deep at low tide, eight at high, which lapped their bases. Daily put them at the digging from the slope side at low tide; but on the second day he stood long running his blunt fingers through his hair, as was his custom when perplexed. Sa.idry had come down from the office and now stood on the "track above the rollway looking over the wet country below. At the rollway's foot the sluggish ribbon of tidewater, sullen and discolored, wound up from the south. To the north the valley lifted gently toward the camp and the wilderness beyond. Suddenly, "Daily," he said, "what are you going to do about it?" "I don't just know. The men can't work in the water, and them piles have got to come out. But there's a way of doin' it, of course." "Of course," said the easterner, "and why not go at it from above?" The foreman looked at him inquir­ ingly. "That left bank of the slough up there is in the form of a ridge. Don't you think we could set a crew at it at low tide and dig it through, turning the water into the field yonder? That would leave the slough empty here for the time between high tides. Could you get the timbers out in a few hours?" Daily's experienced eye had already taken in every detail of the possibili­ ties as Sandry talked. "That's a good scheme, Mr. Sandry,"4 he said slowly. "I believe it'll work." So it was that the first practical sug­ gestion of the new owner was set into action. The whole crew of the camp was brought out of the hills and set to work and the damaged rollway was re­ paired as good as new, the break in the west bank filled, the slough run­ ning full again and nothing to show for the trouble but the flooded field of tules. Under Walter Sandry's cool de­ meanor there was a small glow of satisfaction, a sense of having in a way redeemed himself. At supper time Siletz, moving be­ tween the tableB, laughed to herself, softly, and her dark eyes under the little shadow of her parted hair held a sparkling gleam as if she had seen that conflict and enjoyed it. "Siletz," said the owner, coming in suddenly from the east porch after the men had tramped heavily away to the bunkhouse, "Whom do you know out­ side this camp?" She was alone in the big spotless kitchen, her sleeves rolled up from her arms, slim and brown with a smooth color that was of the sun's giving. "Outside the camp?" she asked, turn­ ing to him for a moment, stopped in some task of the aftermath of the meal, "why--nobody." "Don't you ever go down to Toledo?" . Sandry was leaning in the doorway, his bright tjlue eyes upon her. "Sometimes." "Have you no friends there? No girl friends?" She shook her head and he noticed the clean profile, the shape of the small pointed chin, the good forehead conflicting with a vague suggestion of fleeting wild things in the velvety eyes. "Is there no one with whom you as­ sociate outside the camp? Think." Suddenly there passed over her fea­ tures a quick change. He could liken it to nothing but a wind on the surface of water, just a breath of change. "Only the Preacher," she said with a swift slurring of softness in her voice. "The Preacher?" "You don't know him. He only comes sometimes. He was here Just before you came." "Who is he?" asked Sandry curious­ ly- "I don't know. Nobody knows. But I love him." "The Preacher," he said to himself a little later in the bare south room un­ der the dripping eaves. "H'm! The Bible--of course." With a new interest he picked up the quaint old book of Holy Writ and let it fall open in his hands as it had a way of doing. Out from that marvelous song of an WORTHY OF STUDY BY ALL inspired soul, the Psaims, there looked his answer, as he was to know in an­ other day. the truest answer that could have Wen given to hi Who shall ascend Into the' hill of the Ljord? Or who shell stand In his holy place? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up hla soul unto vanity, tior sworn deceitfully. With an odd feeling of truth struck from the page he closed the book and laid it gently down on the white cloth. CHAPTER VII. Night Wind. that time forth Sandry to take a keener interest .in Siletz. For one thing, he noticed that everyone called her S'letz, vtfth a soft slurring of the first syllable, and he found him­ self using the name which he thought particularly beautiful. It was the name of the reservation to the north and of a small part of the odds and ends of tribes thrown in there by a beneficent government. What was her other name? He had always thought of her as Ma Daily's daughter; and yet, now that he came to think of it, she had never seemed akin to the easy­ going, open-minded foreman who was so like the old froman. She was alien to both with her silences, her whimsi­ cal speech and her loojt of hidden fire. One day in the late fall, when the white mist and the evergreen of the forest had got on his nerves unbear­ ably, Sandry left the office and went to the shed for Black Bolt, only to find m Growing Industry. This country produces more talc and soapstone than all the rest of the world combined. The domestic output has nearly doubled in the last decade, and the comparatively uniform devel opment of the Industry indicates its stability and gives promise for con tinued increasing demand. Half of It is from New York, the balance chiefly from Vermont and Virginia. Soapstone finds extensive use in commerce as I slabs for hearthstones, mantels, sinks, etc., and when powdered as a pigment in paper making, as a lubricator for dressing skins and leather, etc. The 'ine*granular or crypto-crystalline va­ rieties are used for marking purposes undhr the name of ITreuch eha'k. Lessons Taught in the Book of Should Find Comprehension Every Mind. Ruth in The Book of Ruth ts the greatest pastoral idyl in literature. It Is founded on loving kindness, the lov­ ing kindness of the MoabitesB re­ vealed to her family, and the loving kindness of Boaz, the wealthy Israel­ ite to Ruth, his kinswoman. It also contains the germ of that great-heart- edness which is the center of the gos­ pel of Christian love. It is a book that opens with tears and famine and ends with the sound of wedding bells. The story turns upon the straightforwardness of Boaz. who showed kindness and manliness to Ruth, a member of a nation that waB Israel's foe. and in that kindness founded a new house, the house ot Jesse and David, the royal line th^t begat a greater than David. it was first the mingling of the blood of the Jew and Gentile, symbol­ ic of the cosmopolitan width of the Christian -teligion. It ~%as~ the sign Watched Her Turn and Ride Down One of the Mysterious Paths. him gone. He had meant to ride off the fit of blues. Failing that, he decid­ ed to walk it off, and struck up the wet green valley to the north. Almost immediately the tumbling hills closed in upon him and he found himself in a wilderness of towering firs, of dripping vine maples and mys­ terious paths lost in the crowding ferns. Heswas standing at rest in a small glade carpeted with pine nee­ dles and surrounded with ferns, when he caught the sound of voices. They came from the dense wall of the woods at his right and unconsciously he lis­ tened. tipping his head and straining his ears. Presently a look of blank- ness spread upon his face. One of tHte voices was familiar, soft and sliding with minors, the voice of the girl Siletz, and she was speaking jargon. Even as this amazing knowledge was borne in upon him the tangle parted and she stepped out before him. A Siletz squaw followed her, a short brown creature of comely features, clad in brilliant flannel, a towering pyramid of baskets slung to one shoul­ der. Nosing eagerly at the girl's el­ bow stepped Black Bolt, while Coos- nah brought up the rear. They per­ ceived him instantly and the Indian woman turned away with a few gut­ turals which Siletz answered gently. But in the moment that she had con­ fronted him, Sandry had seen her face and received a shock. Beginning just under the lower lip and running downward to the base of the chin there stood out three blue bars, each composed of minutely tat­ tooed designs. Unconsciously his star­ tled eyes flew to the dark face of the girl. There, on her lighter skin, tell­ tale in its truth of outline, was the be­ ginning of the same mark, broken in its inception by some mysterious hand. For a moment Sandry's head whirled and a sort of nausea came over him. Then he became conscious of her dark eyes, level and calux, upon his face and a thrill that sent the blood pounding in his veins shot through him. The mighty trees around them, the eternal majesty of the hills Tinder the intimate gray sky, the girl ir. her trim, sensible attire of blue shlr% short skirt and boots, with that suiden revelation of the wild about her, combined to sug­ gest the unreal, thv mysterious, the that that religion was not to be found­ ed upon wealth, or hpon social caste, but upon tho large, wholesome love of the human heart. Boaz is immor­ tal among Bible heroes for his kind­ ness, his plain, everyday generosity, his sense of protection and care for the lonely, unprotected Moabitish girl, his dead kinsman's Wife, who in her poverty gleaned in Ms harvest field after the reapers. Foaz gave order to his reapers that tht»y should allow her to glean even among the sheaves of barley, and by hi* large-heart ed­ ness gained a wife, And, more than that, made a place for himself in that Immortal company who are renowned for naught but for being kind.--Chris­ tian Herald. Kaiser Man of Meny Titles. The kaiser Is a man with many titles, being an emptror, a king, eighteen times a duke, .twice a grand duke, ten times a count, fifteen times a seigneur, three timen a margrare-- these add up to fifty, and he is lone or two other things, count-prince, and so forth, making his titles at leastlflf tj-tanr. lawless, in * flash he understood her silences,, her calm, her occasional stilted modes of speech, and her whimsicalities. "Why--why--S'leta!" he stammered, following out the train of his illumined thought, "what are you? Who are you? A star in the dusk! The night wind in the pines!" In the flush of the pregnant moment he laid his hand on her bare arm un­ der the rolled-up sleeve--her soft arm, wet with the mist--closing his fingers strongly upon it. For the enchanted present she was romance and mys­ tery, and Sandry was beneath its spell. But Siletz looked from his faco down to the hand upon her arm. The blood rose slowly in her dusky cheeks, and when she raised her eyes again they were dim with the same look of intoxication as had come with the mad­ ness of the rushing wind on Black Bolt's hack. "Yes," she said dreamily, "I am the Night Wind. That's what, they call me --my friends the Indians. But how did you know?" ^ "I didn't. I just heard the words in my heart. They are right.**- He did qot remove his hand, and silence fell between them while they stood gazing into each other's eyes. Sandry saw the heavy look in hers, the dull fire that bespoke a very drunken­ ness of emotion, and in another mo­ ment he had lost his head. Without thought, as simply as the first runner of those forests took what he wanted, he leaned forward and kissed her, softly, lightly, on her smooth cheek. Her eyes darkened perceptibly and she covered her face with her hands. In a sudden great embarrassment Saudry stood silent beside her, his heart pounding and Ms manhood al­ ready upbraiding him. He searched his clearing brain for some word of apology, some contrite expression, but found none, and the next moment could not in any case have spoken it; for Siletz lifted her face ai^d it was glorified. The intoxication had drifted away from her features, leaving them bare in the utter simplicity of the pri­ meval woman, and there was in them a white fire of self-surrender. Without a word--and Sandry knew instinctively that she could not speak --she turned to Black Bolt, threw the reins over his head, crouched beside him on a little lift of moss and leaped upward. He watched her land on the horse's blanketed back with that in­ imitable gra'ie of the wild, turn and ride swiftly down one of the mysteri­ ous paths wl'tose nodding ferns closed after her. Coosnah, following with a lithe rolling of all his huge muscles, cast a lowering glance backward. at the man. The incident had taken all the help­ fulness out of the day and the wilder­ ness, and San<?ry wended his way slow­ ly back to cafip, arriving just in time for supper. S-letz tended the table in her usual silence, but when she reached him «he was constrainedly aloof, as if fearing to break a spell by a word or touch. Once he looked up at her, striving for recognition, but she avoided hid eyes and to save his life he could not repress the wild thrill that had betrayed him in the hills, though he was conscious of an­ ger flushing hot upon it. He suffered a very real humiliation in that he had so far forgotten his training, his sense of the fitness of things, as to kiss this wild mountain creature. His ances­ tral blood rose In condemnation. The next few days were crowded full to overflowing with work and he laid aside all personal perplexities. The first raft of logs, a great cigar- shaped monster, laced together in all its length and breadth vwith giant chains, lay in the backwater at Toledo ready for its voyage into the world be­ yond. A crew of river drivers w.is picked from among the Tien and g.11 was in readiness save fc'r a draft of direc­ tions which was to be given, along with the raft, into the%custody of Cap­ tain Graftz of tfce lonj dun-colored steamer that worfld stand in across the bar at Newport on the twenty- sixth. Sandry thrilled with contemplation of the great, r oddish-brown floor, slightly raised in the center, sloping gently to the sides. Its building had been a thing of wonder to him. It would in all probability scatter to the ends of the earth, and its worth ran well into five figures. He watched its departure, an impressive matter of sluggish rising with the tide, of al­ most imperceptible motion and then of majestic speed that carried it west­ ward toward the ocean. Then ha turned back to bis logging camp with a heightened Joy in the new life. That night he wrote Up /the white- haired gentleman who wias^th®n going to bed under silken covers with the aid j of the faithful Higgins; and his letter j was long and brilliant, touched with that cheer and hope, that light of awakening strength and ability which was beginning to stir his heart to its foundation. "Ah!",said Mr. Wilton Sandry when he got that letter, looking down on the page^pt of Riverside drive In its win­ ter livery, "what a boy he is! What a son! The metal is beginning to ring." (TO BE CONTINUED.) Nourish Your Nerves. People of a nervous disposition need a nourisning, nerve building diet. Eggs served in various ways, milk, ce­ reals, eta., should be a standard part of the diet. Be careful of a lavish use of tomatoes or red beets. Supply your table with quantities of Truit and fresh vegetables and serve bran bread or biscuit frequently. Should you nave a tendency to obesity be careful to avoid an excess of starch and sweets. Consult your physician about any es­ pecial tendency that you know your family or any member of it to possess and, guided by his advice, eliminate such loods as might De harmful. In families wher« there is no special in disposition or hereditary tendency t£ be considered let common sense guide you, read up on dietetics and keep your table tree from uuhealtbful com­ binations and indigestible foods. You will find this study an interesting one-, but beware of tads. A diet must be varied to be wholesome, and it is bet­ ter to use spices and condiments in moderation than to let your table lack flavor from overztal In leaving oul everything that is not pre-eminenti) 1 wholesome. FOR TOE SCHOOLGIRL EVENING CAP! FROCK THAT COPIE8 FASHION OF eloei^,:^b - m- Attractlve and Economical, It Will Pleasing to the Mother as Well as a Delight to the w« Even the little tots are disporting themselves In the contrasting material costumes that were so much in vogue in the eighties. The fashion has one thing to recommend it, and that is its economy where old clothes are to be made over. Part of Jane's and of Milly's frock would make a quite new- looking suit for Milly. Or a good skirt could be made to serve duty for a tu­ nic of new material. As every mother knows, children are hard on their sleeves. The tunic in the patterns may be made with either long or short sleeves and with a plain hem or a scalloped bottom. The pattern makes allow- ahces for both, and this really gives a woman two patterns for the price of one. The writer recommends the long sleeves and, if one has the time, scal­ loped bottom with a narrow bias fold of a contrasting color stitched over the edge of the scallops. The material used here is a striped and a plain gingham, and the blouse is stitched to the waistband and worn with an outside belt. For dress wear there should be a dainty white lingerie collar. Now that grown-ups wear plaited and gathered dresses the small ladies want to do the same--or their mothers want them to, which amounts to the same thing. Perhaps the prettiest way of putting in gathers on little folks' frocks is the old-fashioned smocking, which has been revived and Frock for the Schoolgirl. has, perhaps, never been more popular. Smocking 1B easily learned, and It makes a very pretty decoration to smock white frocks with colored cot­ ton, or blue or pink linens and cotton with white embroidery cotton. , If a mother does not wish to take the trouble of making a skirt and tunic according to this pattern she can easily omit the tunic skirt.--Washing \ t(fl Star. ^ Panne Velvet 8tylish. It looks as if panne and mirror vel­ vet would be more stylish than the or­ dinary silk pile velvet for the after­ noon and evening dresses this season. Of course for the conservative woman ordinary velvet and velveteen will be worn for suits and gowns also. It is just a case of shtny, surfaced velvets being more fashionable, just as they are for millinery styles. In the woolen materials vicuna, which looks like a very fine eponge fabric, is very smart for the long outside afternoon coats; it is to be had in magnificent color­ ings--deep pansy, heliotrope, wine, old blues, deep greens and browns. After­ noon dresses are combinations of chif­ fon and mirror velvet, though here and there are very good taffeta models made wintrifled by bands of metal lace and of fur. Bands of velvet replace fur on spine of the less pretentious models. Crepe Collar Darned in Yarn. Worsted remains a favorite trim­ ming. It Is used on neckwear, too. and a most attractive crepe collar shows a border of strands of worsted run along In half-inch stitches with a blunt needle. PRETTY ON THE NIGHTGOWN Hand Embroidery Is to Be Recom­ mended, Though of Course There Are Many Substitutes. Hand embroidery ts a very satis­ factory means for lifting a nightgown from the commoriplaco. A crocheted yoke Is another effective thing to use to ornament a nightie; but there are women who *\aven't the time nor the ability to do either kind of fancywork. and vet they long to make attractive nightgowns for themselves. For these, then, a nightgown which was included In a young girl's trousseau should be described, so that It can be copied by women out of the fancywork class. The nightgown was of the softest, finest quality of nainsook. It was made empire. The round neck was finished with embroidery beading. Groups of sinocking at either side of the front al forded fullness and were done tn blue merecrized cotton. Outlining the baby waist line were embroidery medallions, placed at regu lar intervals. TheBe were stitched top . and bottom, bat the sides were unat- evening'.: The ch cSrmincj model of uhis C'Venmp. ^ cap Is made in a mushroom shape rV with a narrow brim of satin and • small ruffle of malines over th#"s trim. It is trimmed with large pop*' pies with heavily beaded petals- A satin ribbon is tied undsr ths ehii* to hold the hat on. TWO GOOD CLEANING HINTS Best Method of Removing Mildew From White Goods--For Paint Stains on Clothing. For removing mildew from white material take one teaspoon ful of chlor- ide of lime and one teaspoonful ot washing soda. Put this and the mil­ dewed article into two quarts of cold water and let it boil for about four hours; then skim off the scum, add two paHfuls of cold water and let it standi over night, with the article well com* ered. If this is not long enough, put the article back again and soak it until the mildew entirely disappears; then rinse well and wash in the usual way. Be sure to take off the scum, for that is what burns the material in so many o f t h e r e c i p e s g i v e n . " v . To remove paint from clothes use equal parts of benzine and ammonia, rubbing with a cloth on the wrong way of the nap to get out all the paint. Then hang the garment on the clothes­ line to dry in the open air. When dry, if no trace of the paint 1b seen, brush the cloth ftk^he proper direction. When using -benzine keep away from fire. WORK-CASE TO FIT POCKET Most Useful and Simple Little Recep­ tacle May Be Work of a Few Idle Minutes. A pocket work-case just to hold halt a dozen needles and the contents of m reel of cotton wound upon a card is a very useful little thing, and our sketch shows a neat little article ot thip description. It can be made from any remnant of silk and is lined with thin silk and bound at the edges with narrow ribbon. It holds together in the center, and the two sides are stiffened with pieces of card sewn in between the silk and the lining. Upon one side a pocket is arranged in which the cotton wound upon the card may be placed, and dia­ gram B shows the shape in which the card Bhould be cut out. and the cross indicates a small slit £ut for holding the end of the cotton. To the center of the case a single leaf of flannel cut Into points at the GQ edges is sewn for the needles, and the needles selected should not be too small. The case fastens when closed with a tab and a push button as seen in diagram A. The initials of the owner can be worked where indicated. Shawl Draperies. Lace of many kinds is in request,, and shawl draperies are among the most artistic touches for the evening dresses of today. Sometimes these are attached at the back and held up to the figure at the sides by bracelets of small roses made in gold gauze slipped over the arm. The low bodice of transparent stuffs is often kept In place by a chain of diamante. tached. The material was cut away from beneath each medallion and blue ribbon was run beneath tfoem So much ribbon appearing on the right side of the nightgown was a little different from the usual method of allowing the ribbon to show at the slots only and go on its way along the wrong side ot the,nightie. Lace medallions can be successfully substituted for those of embroidery. The Frill in Full Swing. Never has the way of the frill been more tortuous. It clings round the knees; it climbs in giddy spirals to the waist; it flutters feverishly in front, or dives suddenly beneath the skirt, only to reappear abruptly at some other potnt; and quite frequently completes its adventurous career in a bustlelike waterfall down the back of the skirt it started to adorn. • V ; The greatest care should be -- » of the leeth; equal parts of castile soap, powdered orris root and pr« cipitated chalk make a good and ijutyu pensive tooth powder. ^ fjiiiS!