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%(* .. V\: ? 4" * ' . • c"rr ^ " - f v s • ; * , * • ; j f : < , v - . . < v ' » ' m^?j\vra 4?** * »& < s*>; *$.* * #. .iPtJ £-•' It ^5' fj , *&; -I* * \, '! Um ... f»VjV" ^ I *r A- e.MfavB» SC..,1. «*•** :•'• - -**«.•' K3fi - '% V- •rv~: »»" #v:/" -.»v<r* • - - - - j j . j . J *"$.,,v 1 L • \ **>" •<?•*»**£• *y>A,> «'w »->*"'* - ••&**> *>'*«»./-**.>" -> Z- # Vvt ̂ ~ Hr # . W ; ; - , THE McHENRY PLAINDEALER, McHENRY, ILL. ^ Tv „.- * • - .' l . l L ' \ . ".. . «' SYNOPSIS. * «• j.» w-,' ̂ . Ill Chesnayne. a ff&W France, Is among conspirators at her un­ cle's house. Casslon, «• the commissaire, has enlisted her Uncle Chevet's aid against I^a Salle. D'Artigny, La Salle's friend, offers his services as guide to Cas- slon's party on the journey to the wilder­ ness. The uncle informs Adele that he has betrothed her to Casslon and forbids her to set- D'Artigny again. In Quebec Adele visits her friend. Sister Celeste, who brings D'Artlgny to her. She tells him her story and h« vows to release her from the bargain with Cassion. D'Artlg­ ny leaves promising to see her at thg dance. ^ Cassion escorts Adele to the hall. She meets the governor. La Barre, and h'citrs hiin warn the commissaire against D'Artlgny. D'Ariigny's ticket to the ball has beer, recalled, but he gains entrance by the window. Adele informs him of the governor's words to Cassion. For her eavesdropping at the ball Adele is ordered by the governor to marry Cassion at once and to accompany him to the Illinois country. He summons Chevet and directs that he attend'them on the journey. Tliev leave In the boats. AdeleV future depend­ ing on the decision of D'Artignv whom She ndW knows she loves. Cassion and JVArtigny buve words. Uncle Chevet for the first time hears that his niece is an heiress and begins to suspect Casslon's motives. Adele refuses to permit her hus­ band to shaio her sleeping quarters. Chevet agrees to help her. fe' I jevsv-g 1 «r Tif! f1* •» at &:.f Madame Cassion, loathing the husband who got her by fraud and threat, feels certain that •he has a true confederate--an ally ready to do her bidding-- in .Rene D'Artigny. But disap­ pointment piles < upon her. In a crisis she leams she must fight alone. How she resolves to win against all odds and get revenge is described in stirring manner in this Installment. CHAPTER IX--Continued. I : ' fcf. Mv •K &ar- #"*> &ir % / {'I !,f • ^4' % K : 4%. It' \ ' . MS. m. •1,1 T&eaTiing far oot, ^raspin? a branch to keep from failing. I distinguished the c&noe at the upp^r landing, and the Indians busily preparing camp. At first I saw nothing of any white man. but ^a8 gazing still when D'Artigny emerged from some shadow and stepped down beside the boat I know not what instinct prompted him to turn aud look up intently at the bluff towering above. I scarcely compre­ hended either what swift impulse led me to undo the neckerchief at my throat and hold it forth is signah An instant he stared upward, shading his eyes with one hand. I must have seemed a vision cling­ ing there against the sky, yet all at once the truth burst upon him, and, with a wave of the arm, he sprang up tile low bank and joined his In­ dians. I could not hear what he said, but with a single word he left them and disappeared among the trees at_ the foot of the bluff. ' He must have scrambled straight up ttie steep face of the bluff, for It could have been scarcely more than a min­ ute when I heard him crunching a pas­ sage through the bushes, and then saw him emerge above the edge. Cling- Ing to £ tree limb, his eyes sought eagerly to locate me, And -when I stepped forward, be sprang erect and bowed, jerking his hat from ~ his bead. There was about his action the en­ thusiasm of a boy, and his face glowed •With an eagerness and delight which instantly broke down^every barrier between ns. **You waved to me?" be exclaimed. - *^on wished me to come?" ' "Yes," I confessed, swept from my guard by his enthusiasm. "I have been anxious to confer with yon, and this is my first opportunity." "Why I thought you avoided me," fee burBt forth. "It is because I felt •o that I have kept away." "There was nothing else I could do but pretend." I exclaimed, gaining control over my voice as I spoke. "My every movement has been watched since we left Quebec; this Is the first moment 1 have been left ajojie--if. Indeed, I am now." And I glanced about doubtfully into the shadows of the forest. "You Imagine you may have been followed here? By whom? Casslou?" - - *»By himself or some emissary. Pere Allouez- has been my Jailer, but chances to be disabled at present. The commissaire permitted me to climb here alone! believing you to be safely camped above the rapids, yet his sus­ picions may easily revive." "His suspicions!" the sieur laughed softly. "So that then Is-the tttJuble? It is to keep us apart that he bids me make separate camp each night: and assigns me to every post of peril. I feel the honor, mademoiselle, yet' why am 1 especially singled out jfor so '•Bleat a distinction?'^ . »• . t h "He suspects ua of Being friends. Be knew I conferred with you at the convent, and even believes that your* were with me hidden behind the eur- ^in In the governor's office." "Ye^ if all that be true," he ques­ tioned, his voice evidencing his Bur- prlse. "Why should our friendship Arouse his antagonism ta such an ex­ tent? I cannot understand what crime I have committed, mademoiselle, it Ul all mystery, even why you should be here with us on this long Journey? Surely you had no such thought "when we parted last?" """You do not know what has oc- k «|rred ?" I asked, in astonishment "No ^ Me has told you?" "Told me! How ? I have scarcely Jield speech with anyone but the Al­ gonquin chief since we took to the water. Cassion has but given orders, and Chevet is mum as an oyster. I endeavored to find you In Montreal, bat you were safely locked behind gray walls. That something was wrong •I felt convinced., yet what it might be po one would tell me. 1 tried ques­ tioning the pere, but he only shook Us bead and left me unanswered. Tell me then, mademoiselle, by what right does this Cassion bold yon as ft mptire?" * . My lips trembled,' ami my eyes fell, jret I must answer. "He is my husband, monsieur." I caught glimpse of his face, pic­ turing surprise, incredulity. He drew a sharp breath and 1 noted his hand close tightly on the hilt of his knife. "Your husband! that cur! Surely you do not jest?" "Would that I did." I exclaimed, losing all control in sudden wave, of anger. "No, monsieur, it 1s true." And I told him swiftly the story of my enforced marriage. , "And Hugo Chevet, your uncle? Did ^ remain silent? make no protest?" :he asked. I gave a gesture "of despair, "He! Never did he even conceive what occurred, until I told him later on the river. Even now I doubt if his sluggish brain has grasped the truth. To bim the alliance was an honor, an opening to possible wealth In the fur trade through Cassion's In­ fluence with £ia Barre. He could per­ ceive nothing else except his good luck in thus ridding himself of the care of a poor niece who. had been a sorry burden." "But you explained to him?" "I tried to, but only to regret the effort. Giant as he is physically; his intellect is that of a big boy. All he can conceive of is revenge--a desire to crush with his hands. He hates Cas­ sion. because the man has .robbed him of the use of my father's money; but for my position he cares nothing. To his mind the wrong has all been done to him, and I fear he will brood over it until, be seeks revenge. If he does he will rain everything." D'Artigny stood silent evidently in thought, endeavoring to grasp the threads of my tale. "How did' you attain the summit of tills bluff?" he questioned at last. "Yonder; there Is a deer trail lead­ ing down." "And you fear Casslon may follow?" "He will likely become suspicious if I am long absent and either seek me himself or send one of his men. This is the first moment of freedom I have experienced since we left Que­ bec I hardly know how to behave myself." * "And we must guard it from being the last." he exclaimed, a note of de­ termination and leadership in his voice. "There are questions I must ask. so that we may work together in har­ mony, but Cassion can never be al­ lowed to suspect that we have com­ munication. Let us go forward to the end of the trail where you came up; from there we can keep watch below." He still grasped my hand, and I had no thought of withdrawing it. To me he was a friend, loyal, trustworthy, the one alone to whom I could con­ fide. Together we clambered over the rough rocks to where thd naerow cleft led downward. CHAPTER X. On the Summit of the Bluff. Securely screened from observation by tbje low growing bushes clinging to the edge of the bluff, and yet with a clear view of the cleft In the rocks half way to the river, D'Artigny found me a seat on a hummock of grass, but remained standing himself. The sun was sinking low, warning us that our time was short, for with the first coming of twilight I would certainly be sought. If I failed to return' to the lower camp. "You would question me. monsieur,". I asked doubtfully, "it was for that you led me here?" "Yes," instantly aroused by my voice, but with eyes still scanning the trail. "And there Is no time to waste, If I am to do my part intelli­ gently. You must return below before the sun disappears, or Monsieur Cas­ slon might suspect you had lost your way. You have sought me for assist­ ance, counsel perhaps, but this state of affairs has so taken me by surprise that I do net think clearly. You have a plan?" "Scarcely that, monsieur. I would ascertain tbf truth, and my only means of doing so is through a con­ fession by Francois Cassion. Arro­ gant he Is. and conceited, deeming himself admired and envied by all. especially my sex. He has even dared boast to me of his victims. But there­ in lies his „very Weakness; I would make him love me." He turned now, and looked search- lngly Into my face, no glimpse of a smile In the gray eyes. "Pardon; I do not understand," he said gravely, "You seek his love?" I felt his manner a rebuke, a ques­ tioning of my honesty, and swift In­ dignation brought the answering words to my lips. "And why not pray! Must I not defend myself--and what other wea­ pons are at hand? Do I owe him kind­ ness; or tender consideration? The man married me as he would buy a slave." "You may be justified," he admitted regretfully. "Yet how Is .this to be done?" I arose to my feet and stood before him," my face uplifted, aqd, with one hand, thrust aside the shade of my hat. "Monsieur, deem yon that impossi­ ble?" . - * His lips parted in a qhlck smile, re­ vealing the white teeth, and he bowed low, flinging his hat to the ground aud standing bareheaded. "Mon dleu! No! Monsieur Casslon is to be congratulated. Yet It was my thought you said yonder that you despised the man." "I do; what reason have I to feel otherwise? Yet there lies my strength In this battle. He laughs at women, plays with them, breaks their hearts. It la bis pride and boast, and his suc­ cess in the past has ministered to his self-conceit. He thought me of the same kind, but has already had his lesson. Do,you not know what,that means to a man like him? More than ever he will desire my favor. A, week back he cared nothing; I was but a plaything, awaiting his pleasure; his wife to be treated as he pleased. He knows better now, and already his eyes follow, me as though he were my dog." - -V "And that then is why you sebd for me--that I may "play my part ft the |ame?" I shrugged my shoulders, yet there Was doubt in my eyes as I faced him. - "Is there harm in such play, mon­ sieur." I asked innocently, "with so important an end in view? 'TIs not that I seek. amusement, but . I must find out where this king's pardon 1st hidden, who concealed it, and obtain proof of the fraud which compelled my marriage. My only hope of re­ lease lies In compelling Francois Cas­ sion to confess all he knows of thisi foul conspiracy. I must possess the facts before we return to Quebec." "But of what use?" he insisted. "You will still remain bis wife, and your property will be in bis control. The church will hold you to the mar­ riage contract" "Not if I can establish the truth that I was deceived, defrauded and married by force. Once I have the proofs In my- hands I will appeal to Louis--to the pope for jelief. These pien thought me a helpless girl, friend­ less and alone, ignorant of law, a mere waif of the frontier. Perhaps I was, but this experience has made of me a woman. In Montreal I talked with the mother superior and she told me of a marriage in France where the pere officiated under threat and the pope dissolved the ties. If it can be done for others it shall be done for me. I will not remain the wife of Francois Casslon." "Yet you would make him hrire you?" "In punishment for his sins; in pay­ ment for those he has ruined. Ay! 'tis a duty I shall not shrink from, Mdnsieur d'Artigny, even although you may deem it unwomanly. I do not mean it so, nor hold myself immodest for the effort. 'Why should I? 1 but war against him with his own wea­ pons, aud my cause is just. And I shall win, whether or not you give me your aid. How can I fail, mon­ sieur? I am young and not ill to look upon; this you have already confessed; here In this wilderness I am alone, the only woman. He holds me his wife by law, and yet knows he must still win me. There are months of loneliness before us, and he will not look upon the face of another white woman in all those leagues. Are there any French of my sex at Fort St Louis?" ,"No." "Nor at St Ignace, Pere Alloue* assures me. I shall have no rival then in all this wilderness; you think me harmless, monsieur? Look at,me, and say!" f 'I do not need to look; you will have your game. I have no doubt, al­ though the final result may not prove what you desire." "You fear the end?" "It may be so; you play With fire, and although I know little of women, yet I have felt the wild passions of 1 'Yet You Would Maks You?" Him Love men in lands where there la flw re­ straint of law. The wilderness sees many tragedies--fierce, bitter, revenge­ ful deeds--and 'tis best you use care. 'Tis my belief this Francois Casslon might prove a devil, once bis heart was tricked. Have you thought of this?" " I had thought of It, bat with no mercy in my heart.^yet as D'Artigny spoke I felt the ugliness of my threat more acutely, and. for an Instant, stood before him white-lipped aud ashamed. Then before me arose Cas­ slon's face, sarcastic, supercilious, hateful, and I laughed In scorn of the warning. - 'ww-" "Thought of 1t!" I exclaimed, "yes, fiut for that I care hotblngv Why should 1, monsieur? Has the man shown mercy to me. that I should feel regret because he suffers? As to his revenge, death is not more to be dreaded than a lifetime passed in his presence. But why do you make plea on his behalf--the man Uk surely no friend of yours?" "I make no plea for him," he an- swered, strangely sober, "and claim no friendship. Any enemy to La Salle ts an enemy to Rene d'Artigny; but I would front him as a man should. It is not my nature to do a deed of treachery." t "You hold this treachery?" "What else? Yon propose luring him to love you, that you may gain confession from his lips. To attain this end you barter your honesty, your womanhood; you take advantage of your beauty to enslave him; you count as ally the loneliness of the wilderness; ay! and. If I understand aright, you hope through me to awaken the man's jealousy. Is this not true?" I drew a quick breath, my eyes star­ ing Into his face, and my limbs trem­ bling. His words cut me like a knife, yet I would not yield, would not even acknowledge their truth. "You are unjust, unffflr," I burst forth impetuously. "You will see but the one side--that of thie man. I can­ not fight this battle with my haflds, nor will I submit to such wWng with­ out struggle. He has never thought to spare me, and there Is no reason why I should show him mercy. I wish your good will, monsieur, your respect, but I cannot hold this plaii which i propose as evil. Do you?"; He hesitated, looking at me With such perplexity in his eyes as to prove his doubt. , "I cannot judge you," he admitted at last "only that is not the way In which I have been trained. Neither will I stand between you and your revenge nor have part in it. I am your friend--now, always. In every honorable way I will serve- you and your cause. If Cassion dares violence or insult? he must reckon with me. though I faced his Whole company. I pledge you this, but I will not play a part or act a He even at your re­ quest." "You mean you will not pretend to care for me?" I asked, lay heart leaden at his words. "There would be no pretense," he answered frankly. "I do care for you, but I will not dishonor my thought of yon by thus deliberately scheming to outwit your husband. I am a man of the woods, the wilderness; not since I w^is a boy have I dwelt In*civilization, but in-all that time I have been com­ panion of men to whom honor was everything. I have been comrade with Sieur de la Salle, with Henri de Tonty, and cannot be guilty of an act of treachery, even for your sake. Per­ chance my code is not the same^as the perfumed gallants' of Quebec--yet it is mine, and learned in a hard school." He went on quietly. "There are two things I cannot Ignore--one is, that am an employee of this Francois Cassion. pledged to his service by my own free will; the other Is, that you are his wife, joined to him by Holy church, and although you may have assumed those vows under coercion, your promise is binding. I can but choose my path of duty and abide therein." His words hurt, angered me; 1 lacked power of expression, ability to grasp his full meaning and purpose. "You--you desert me then? You-- yon leave me to this fate?" "I leave you to reconsider your choice of action," be returned gravely, his hat still in band,, his lips unsmiling. "I do believe your womanhood will find a better way to achieve its lib­ erty, but what that way is I must trust you to discover. I am «• your friend. Adele, always--you will be­ lieve that?" I did not answer; I could not, be­ cause of the choking in my throat, yet I let him grasp my hand. Once I raised my eyes to his. but lowered them Instantly in strange confusion. Here was a man I did not understand, whose real motives I could not fathom. His protest had not yet penetrated my soul, and I felt toward him an odd mixture of respect and, anger. He released my hand and turned away, and I stood motionless as he crossed the open space between the trees. At the edge of the bluff he paused and glanced about, lifting his hat in ges­ ture of farewell. I do not think I moved or made response, and an in­ stant later he was gone. I know not how long I stood there staring Into vacancy, haunted by re­ gret. tortured by fear and humiliation. Slowly all else crystallized into Indig­ nation. with a fierce resolve to fight on alone. The sun sank, and all aboht me clung the purple twilight, yet i did not move. He had been unjust, unfair; his simple code of the woods could not be made to apply to such a situation as this of mine. • I heard no sound of warning, yet as I turned to retrace my way to the camp below I became suddenly aware of the presence of Cassion. CHAPTER XI. We Reach the Lake. He was between me and the deer trail, and enough of daylight yet re­ mained to enable me to perceive the man clearly. How long he may have been there observing me I could not know, but when I first saw him he was bent forward, apparently deeply Interested in some sudden discovery upon the ground at his feet. "You thought me long In returning, monsieur?" I asked carelessly, and taking a step toward him. "It was cooler up here, and the view from the bluff yonder beautiful. You may gain some conception of it still, if you care." He lifted bis head with a jerk and stared into my face. "Ay! no doubt." he said harshly, "yet I hardly think It was the view which held you here so long. Whose boot print ts this, madame? not yours, surely." r< I glanced where b« pointed, my h?art leaping, yet not altogether with regret. The young sieur had left his trail behind, and It would serve me whether by his will or no. "Certainly not mine," and I laughed. "I trust, monsieur, your powers of ob­ servation are better than that--'tis hardly a compliment" 'Nor Is this time for any lightness c speech, my lady," he retorted, bis auger fanned by my Indifference. "Whose is It then, I ask you? What man has been jtouc^companlon here?" "You Jump at" conclusions, ^mon­ sieur," I returned coldly. "The stray lmorint of a man's boot on the turf i-k J, ' „. X . '3. T? is scarcely evidence that I have bad a companion. Kindly stand aside and. permit me to descend," "Mon dleu! I will notr and he blocked my passage. H "I have stood enough of your tantrums already In the boat. Now we are 'alone and I will have my say. You shall remain here until I learn the truth." His rage rather amused me, and I felt not the slightest emotion of fear, although there was threat in bis words and in the gesture accompany­ ing them. I do not think the smile even deserted my Hps, as I sought a comfortable seat on s. fallen tree trunk, fully conscious that nothing would so infuriate the man as studied indifference. "Very well, monsieur, 1 await your investigation with pleasure," I said sweetly. "No doubt It will prove In- I Became Suddenly Aware of the Pres­ ence of Cassion. teresting. You honor me with the susr plclon that I had an appointment here with one of your men?" "No matter what I suspicion." "Of course not; you treat me with marked consideration. Perchance oth­ ers have camped here, and explored these bluffs." Now that he has his young wife entirely alone on this hill, do you believe that Commission­ aire Cassion will break her will and assert his power as hus­ band? Can the girl thwart him? <TO BE CONTINUED.) THREW MUD AT SPEED FIENDS Detroit 'Merchant Made His: .» Laws for Motor Car Testers. Justice Gainey exonerated Michael Heitz, a Mount Elliott avenue mer­ chant for his action in throwing mud in the faces of speeding motor car drivers and covering them with a gun, the Detroit News states. Heitz' nerves seem to have been wrecked by the epeed of passing ma* chines. In court he admitted the gun episode when arraigned on a warrant sworn out by Robert Newman, a motor car tester. Witnesses testified that Heitz threw mud. at them as they were passing his place and that in the ensuing battle the gun was drawn. "YOB, I did It," said Heitz. "Those testers roar past my place, almost kill my customers and spatter mud all over my windows. I got mad and asked them to atop. They only laughed at me, and I took the law into my own hands." "He held up his hand and I slowed down," said Newman. "Then he let It fly. I was only going about fifteen miles an hour." "Tell that last to someone else." said the court. "The people of Detroit know testers go faster than fifteen miles; it is more likely fifty miles an hour. Citizens have a right to stop these violators and a violator has little redress.". "He pulled a gun on us," said one of Newman's witnesses. "Sure, why not?" said Heitz. "After the trouble they came back in a bunch and were going to whip me. I had to1 protect itoyself." More Coming to Him. There was no doubt about the ffcft that Jack MacFaddy was a Scotsman. Last year, when journeying to the country on an important errand, he left his purse, containing nearly $500 in gold and silver, at the railway sta­ tion from which he started. He telegraphed the fact on his ar­ rival and the purse was kept, until his return a month later. It was a young clerk who handed Jockle MacF. his wee purse with the "spondles" as he set foot ofit of the train, and certain wild hopes were making the young man'« heart beat a trifle unevenly. But our canny 8cot counted his money unheeding--and when he'd finished he looked up long and sua* plclously at the young man. "Isn't it right, sir?" stammered the latter, in bewilderment. "Richt--Rlcht! It's right enough, but Where's the interest, mon?" was MacFaddy's stern retort^S&tobu^h Review.' Both Made of Steel. In a certain old-fashioned country bank the clerks have a quaint habit of speaking of one another as "offi­ cers" of the bank. A new waiter, fresh from Ireland, was recently taken on at the restau- all favored. To him a clerk is first morning: ave any of the ofltoers beea this morning ?w sir," was the demure reply. *s eyes twinkled, "It was ee minutes that wan av thlm of the place with his aworg ear!"--Answers. MID-SEASON DStlQN SUITABLE FOR SUMMER . . . . Possibility of Economy In Expendi­ ture of Money Now in Vie# of the • %• Market Affords. ^ Bargains In summer fabrics are so plentiful just now that many women do not consider it extravagance to add a new frock or two to her summer dresses, even though mere desire, not a'need, inspires the purchase.. The Summer Frock of Plain and Printed Voile. home dressmaker never had greater encouragement to try out her own Ideas in style design than during the present season, because such infinite variety obtains Ih cat ind color or fabric combination that It is difficult for anyone with the slightest at sewing or with artistic ideas to go very far wrong. Printed and plain white voile in suggested as suitable for the little1 froc£ shown In the sketch, although plain and dotted handkerchief linen, checked gingham and plain color chambray, etc., might be used as ef­ fectively. A The double tunic Is suggestive of It style line that Is to be given consider- able prominence in the first showing of fall frocks. Advance bulletins and advance models carry out an Illusion of brevity In length and breadth of skirts, while they are In reality longer and narrower than those generally fa?- vored at present, and the long tunic aids very materially In this illusion, the underskirt being reasonably close reefed and modestly long, while the upper skirt or tunic is given a decided flare. The hosiery display of the past season or two will not be looked on with favor in the fall, as practically all frocks brush lower than the shoe tops.-"" The little frock In the sketch Is, how­ ever. distinctly a summer model, and excellent for tub fabrics. The back of the bodice has a deep round yoke, coming below the shoulders, of white voile, and the back of the skirt Is ex- . actly like the fropt, paneled In white and printed voile. The dresA fastens ' in the center front. To make this gown, three yards of plain fabric 36 Inches wide and seven and a half yards of figured material the same width will be required. The bottom skirt measures four yards wide. A bright ribbon is used for the. girdle. 'I The generous use of ribbon as .trimming or finishing touch on sum­ mer frocks Is a notable feature, and it strengthens the quaint and pictur­ esque tendency of the season's ap­ parel. • .v Ribbons will be used rather freely • on the next season's evening frocks. Colored silk or bead embroideries are favorite trimming touches for modish utility gown of serge or gaberdine. The tendency to favor a lower waist line is more and more emphasized as the early fall models see the light el day.--Washington Star. MAKING USE OF RIBBONS About the First Thing Is for One to Become an Adept in Tying V BOW. ribbon season, "as we all know, and the shops, naturally, have put forth a big and goodly, supply of attractive ribbons in response to the demand fashion has made for them. Do you know how to tie a bow? Probably not. In this day of special­ ization few women do know how to tie more than a lingerie or hair rib­ bon. We leave It for the saleswoman at the ribbon 'centers, for our dress­ makers and our milliners to tie bows of every pther sort. To begin with. If you would tie bows successfully, buy a reel of fine covered wire and use It to tie the loops In position. This, for instance, is the way a professional ties a snsh rosette for a child's frock. She takes one end of two or three yards of rib­ bon and measures off about thirty Inches to go, around the waist. Then she makes as many loops as she wishes, gathering the ribbon for each through her fingers. ^ Next she measures off with her right hand, holding the loops in her left, enough ribbon for the two euds, and, at the end of this ribbon makes one more loop. This leaves a long loop of ribbon, later to be the two ends, and with one of them ties around the rosette loops, so' making one end shorter than the other. Hatband ribbons are especially In­ teresting this summer, a tailored bow, flat but not pressed down, finishes the left side of the hat when these rib­ bons are used, and In most shops lengths of ribbon with bows attached are sold for varying prices. Brocaded ribbons, with raised v«fl- vet figures on thick satin ribbon foun­ dations, are also smart. One such rib­ bon shows pansles of black, blue and purple velvet on a cerise ribbon. An-' other shows overlapping pellets or big polka dots of three colors--peacock blue, old gold and plum--on a blick background. . . ~ BUTTONS USED IN MANY WAYS •*- Pronounced Feature of the Season's 8tyles is a Thing That Haa to Be Recognized. Buttons are not at all left In the lurch because of the amount of hand­ work used. In fact, they serve to ac­ centuate the special feature of the waist, coat or suit they adorn. ' But­ tons increase the Importance of pock­ ets, belt and capes and give themselves a chiadce to assume extraordinary shapes and sises. Because of the vogue for dark suits with white hats, shoes or galtefs. white ivory buttons are allowed. Sometimes they are ringed with black or a iash- ionable color, sometimes they have a pearl center, but all of them are light In weight, and that accounts for at least part of their popularity. They are also made on dark taffeta dresses. Those used on coats and suits are more conservative, mushroom and saucer shapes being the most popular. Balls, squares and cubes are also em­ ployed, as well as acorns. Pearl but­ tons come In all sizes and shapes, trom the large ball buttons, appropriate for novelty suits, and the flat styles for separate skirts, to the tiny ones for shirtwaists. Heavy colored materials make use of ribbed buttons. Checked suits may be thanked for the plain and checked button, as well as the black and white effects in com­ binations with white rims. Among the new colors shown is a French gray but­ ton to match the shade now so popular In dresses. A ring of black Is often used to enhance Its beauty. ' CHARMING PICTURE HAT It Is Made of Yellow Crepon, Pat­ terned With Fruit in Bright Green and Dull Purple, and Lined With Black Velvet. Clusters of Appiee Appear as Trimming,,and a Bright Green Ribbon is Looeely Tied fin­ der the Chin. PAY ATTENTION TO COIFFURE Taking a Pew Lessons From Expert Hairdresser is Time and Money w#u 8pw|L Quoth a great hairdresser a few days ago--one of those Important art­ ists who have earned their laurels with Infinite pains: "A conscientious coiffure takes do advice from the customer. He dresses the head of madam or mademoiselle according to his own knowledge of the lines of beauty. He studies the shape of her head, the cut of her features, her height and weight. And where It Is possible to do so he uses her own simplest structures in the world. When the head is very beautifully shaped we take the greatest pains to show it off." So spoke th^ great man, and despite his small opinion of woman's natural taste, he admitted that those ladles who used one style of halrdressing for a lifetime and found it good had bet~ ter cling to It "It becomes a part of them then, yo& see, and really makes them look younger than If they started all at once to try new effects they know nothing about" There are many women who fail entirety witb the trick of the smart hair entirely, for many suits of hair j coiffure, little knowing that e few are sufficiently heavy to admit of very | lessons from a hairdresser would help elaborate effects. But the day coiffure j them tremendously in the delicate art I and the evening one are two different | Even having the hair "done" by things entirely. As many walking hats are quite small and It Is still the mode to wear them low on the head, the dressing of the hair Is necessarily com­ pact "Evening coiffures. Ah. but they are wonderfully elaborate--or they are the A-*. . •**., ".V? j-'. professional once or twice Is a great! help, and for the rest the woman who! wishes her head to have Just the right look cannot be stingy time) she spends on it A lov ing (able with the tions would be a great •'.A: