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*sr v 1 r* *r ' %** v^} fm' 1 Y/\> /»* **>«; * fjjT^ ^̂ ̂ fb'r>f*W-^^'^V^h^**'M & *?'& h :A""' h ' 3 ! « " i < * J > . . - * ' * < • 1 3 4 ^ a j 4 » v > - * * « £ £ J , » < J l „ • . - • - < • * • ' * * , ? ] ̂ *••'.' ,; •?: ^ ̂ ,« -THE MeHUK&t wr )."»p;i',.,' 11\ \: -•% piwjhiiw " 1 " , " i » | i f i | , f f J l f w y » l 1 j?4y>y f m ̂ ̂ ̂ ̂ ̂ _ '-'- 3^*. A * JCW *. > ?«***§! it**" if^" * ,r*k&h *•*& &• ,*£1%*.. * * ** • *** * '-^3 * ^u, 1 - •?* V--"*?* vt >- t LI? rit*?' v^r h* % \a ' * - i s- * „ ^ ; f . 3 W c V ' > - . • V • • < 5 - • * ' , ; " - ' %«lWt;«;n ssv;^ »^«Vs;: - '• - , , "\\ <* „ <*- « " -«• <-r« JBy RANDALL PARRISH Pv ' S<£ &,'«**' A Romance of Eariy Days in the Middle West .**- ' • . * SYNOPSIS. - „,,< ,.--fM' Adele la Cheanayne, a .belle of, New j' •, f v .yitmce, ta among concpirators at her un- •":«"1 * - ile'8 house. Cassion. the commissalre, J'***. , It AS enlisted her Uncle Chevet's aid #rf V : i Sff^lnst La Salle. D'Artigny. La Salle's ."friend, offers his services aa guide to Cas- Ition's party on the Journey to the wilder- Sess. The uncle informs Adele that he as betrothed her to Cassion and forbids -•Her to see D'Artigny again. In Quebec Adele visits her friend. Sister Celeste, ••ho brings D'Artigny to her. She tells Sim her story and he vows to release her from the bargain with Cassion. D'Artlg- By leaves promising, to see her at the dance. Cassion escorts Adele to the halL Ijhe meets the governor. La iJarre, and Jhe&rs him warn the commissaire against Si'Artigny. D'Artlgny's ticket to the ball as baen recalled, but he gnlns entrance ;*>y the window. Adeie informs him of the governor's words to Cassion. For her J fTc.*< eavesdropping at the ball Adele Is ordered ^ > 'f v\ v "by the governor to marry Cassion at once r\ * & ' " *nd to a.ccompany him to the Illinois *i, - 'Country. He summons Chevet and directs V%:"-'f'i ' that he attend them on the journey. They .•,•»- s* • Ifeave in the boats, Vdele's future depend- ; tng on the decision of D'Artigny, whom i * «#he now knows she loves. Cassion and *7"- -A • "!>'ArtlgT»y have words. Uncle Chevet for ,the first time hears that his niece is an jieiross, and begins to suspect Cassion'a motives; f , r * - f *" >isjf ••-. + t' •£i"V 4ft : r^- \ •/: A mai| marries a girl against her will. She determines to be his wife only in name, and, though associated with him constantly in i compAny of rough men in the wilderness, plans to keep her maidenhood until death parts them. Com­ missionaire CaMton is equally determined to enjoy matrimony to the fullest. Their first clash is described in this installment. fetf, - • Commissionaire Cassion accuses his Uride of intimacy with Rene d'Ar> #fny. This she indignantly denies, but x presses * fear for the young man's fety. CHAPTER VIf--Continued. "Ton appear greatly concerned over fits safety." | ; "Not at all; so far as I have ever .^Iheard the Sieur d'Artigny has hereto- l ' Itore proren himself quite capable of • •ustaiulng his own part 'TIs more ttke I am concerned for you." "For me? You fool! Why, 1 was " ' • swordsman when that lad was at f Ids mother's knee." He laughed, but •v With ugly gleam of teeth. "Sacre! I •s j • ; flate such play acting. But enough of 'y •quarrel now; there la sufficient time Ahead to bring yon to your senses, Mind a knowledge of who is your mas- r * -#r. Hugo Chevet, come here." ' - • My uncle climbed the bank, his rifle '• an hand, with face still bloated and fed from the drink of the night be- •flore. Behind him appeared the slen- '• jder black-robed figure of the Jesuit, tils eyes eager with curiosity. It was :a tight of the latter which caused Cas- . pion to moderate Us tons of com- wand. 0 . s "You will go with Chevet," he said, ^ JM)Jntiiig to the fire among the trees, " "until I can talk to you alone." t* prisoner?" y "No; a guest," sarcastically, "but do '#ot overstep the courtesy.** - r . . We left him in conversation with the y jpere, and I did not even glance back. ; 'Chevet breathed heavily, and I caught I-'- ' *ie mutter of bis voice. "What mean- •_ *?th all this chatter?" be asked gruffly. ..#Mt»t you two quarrel so soon?" ^ \ "Why not?" I retorted. "Hie man wears me no love; 'tis but gold be \ thinks about." "Gold!" he stopped and slapped his .%"• Jttdghs. " 'TIs precious little of that ^vv/Ae will ever see then." < "And why not? Was not my father ? ' «i land owner?" V; "Ay! till the king took It." ^[iWi Left $k Him With the Pere, and I Did Not Even Glance Back. 'Then even you do not know the truth. I am glad to learn that, for #1 have dreamed that you sold me to . this coxcomb for a share of the spoils." "What? a share of the spoils! Bah! / I am uo angel, girl, nor pretend to a virtue more than I possess. There is truth in the thought that 1 might bene- il flt by yoUr marrlage to Monsieur Cas- sion, aud, by my faith, I see no wrong ln Have you not cost me heavily f i» these years? Why should I not #' se»;k for you a husband of worth in these colonies? Wherefore Is that a crime? Were you my own daughter ^ I could do no less, and this man is not 111 to look upon, a fair-spoken gallant, ,;'i a friend of La Barre's, chosen by hi pi for special servlete-- "And with Influence- 6|i 4h» fur trade." " • 7 _ "All the better that," he continued ' ' • obstlnateiy. "Why should a girl ob- 1 "ft-,, j«ct if her husband Oe rich?" * "Bui be to not rich," I said plainly, » : lookinf straight into bis eyas. "H# Is no more thau a penniless adventurer; an actor playing a part assigned him by the governor; while you and I do the same. Listen, Monsieur Chevet, the property at St Thomas is mine by legal right, and it was to gain pos­ session that this wretch sought my hand." "Your legal right?" "Ay, restore# by the king in special order." "It Is not true; ! bad the records searched by a lawyar, Monsieur Gau- tier of St Anne." 1 gave a gesture of indignation. "A country advocate at whom those In authority would laugh. I tell you what I say is true; the land was re­ stored, and the fact is known to La Barre and to Cassion. It is this fact which has caused all our troubles. I overheard talk last night between the governor ,find his aide-de-camp. Colonel Delguard--you know -him?" Chevet nodded, his interest stirred. "They thought themselves alone, and were laughing at the success of their trick. I was hidden behind the heavy curtains at the window, and every word they spoke reached my ears. Then they sent for Cassion." "But where Is the paper?" v "I did not learn; they Lave It hidden, no doubt, awaiting the proper time to produce it. Bat there is such a document: La Barre explained that clearly, and the reason why he wished Cassion to marry me. They were all three talking when an accident hap­ pened, which led to my discovery." "Ah! and so that was what hurried the wedding, and sent me on this wild wilderness chase. They would bury me in the woods--sac re!--'* "Hush now--Cassion has left the canoe already, and we can talk of this later. Let us seem to suspect noth­ ing." This was the first meal of many eaten together along the river bank in the course of our long journey, yet the recollection of that. scene rises before my memory now with peculiar vividness. Cassion had divided us Into groups, and, from where I had found reiting place, with a small flat rock for table, I was enabled to see the others scattered to the edge of the bank, and thus learned for the first time the character of those with whom I was destined to companion on the long journey. There were but four of ns in that first group, which in­ cluded Pere Aliouez, a silent man, fingering his cross, and barely touch­ ing food. His face under the black cowl was drawn, and creased by strange lines, and his eyes burned with vagueness. If I bad ever dreamed of him as one to whom I might turn for counsel, the thought instantly van­ ished as our glances met. A soldier and two Indians served us, while their companions, divided into two groups, were gathered at the other extremity of the ridge, the sol­ diers under discipline of their own underofflcers, and the Indians watched over by Sieur D'Artigny, who rented, however, slightly apart his gaze on the broad river. Never once while I observed did be turn and glance my way. I counted the men. as I endeavored to eat, scarcely heed­ ing the few words exchanged by those about me. The Indians numbered ten, including their chief, whom Cassion called Altudn. Chevet named them as Algonquins from the Ottawa, treach­ erous rasca-ls enough, yet with ex­ pert knowledge of watercraft. Altudah was a tall savage, wrapped in gaudy blanket his face rendered sinister and repulsive by a scar the full length of bis cheek, yet he spoke French fairly weil, ajnd someone said that he had three times made journey to Mackinac, and knew the water­ ways. There were 24 soldiers, includ­ ing a sergeant and corporal, of the regiment of Picard.v; active fellows enough, and accustomed to the fron­ tier, although they gave small evi­ dence of discipline, sud their uniforms were in shocking condition. The ser- want was a heavily »>uilt, stocky man, but the others were rather undersized, •wid of little, spirit. The same thought must have been in tae minds of oth­ ers, for the expression on Monsieur Cassion's face was not pleasant as he stared about. "Chevet," he exclaimed disgustedly, "did ever you see a worse selection for wilderness travel than La Barre has given us? Cast your eyes down the line yonder: by niy faith! there is not a real man among them." Chevet, who bad been growling to himself, with scarce a thought other than the food before him, lifted his eyes aud looked. "No worse than all the scum. De Baugis had Ro better with him, and La Salle led a gang of outcasts. With right leadership you cau make them do men's work. "£is no kid-glove job you have. Monsieur Cassion." The Insulting indifference of the old fur trader's tone surprised the com­ missaire, and he exhibited resentment. "You are overly free with your com­ ments, Hugo Chevet. When I wish advice I will ask it" "And In the woods I do not always wait to be asked." returned the older m#n. lighting his pipe, and calmly puffing out the blue smoke. "Though it is likely enough you will be asking for it before you journey many leagues further." "You are under my orders." "So La Barre said, but the only duty he gave me was to watch over Adele here. He put no shackle on my tongue. Yvu have chosen your course'/". "Yes. up the Ottawa/' "I suppose so, although that boy yonder could lead you a shorter pas­ sage." "How lemied you that?" "By talking with him in Quebee. He even sketched me a map of the route be traveled with La Salie. You kitew It not?" "Twas of no moment, for my or­ ders bid: me go by St iguact. Yst It might be well to question him and the ehlef also." He turned to the nearest soldier. "Tell the Algonquin, Altudah, to come here, and Sieur d'Artigny." They approached together, two speci­ mens of the frontier as different as could be pictured; and stood silent, fronting Cassion, who looked at them frowning, and in no pleasant humor. The eyes of the younger man sought my face for an instant and t|ie swift giance gave harsher nofe to the com- missa ire's voice. "We will reload the canoes here for the long voyage," he said brusquely. "The sergeant will have charge of that, but both of you will be in the leading boat, and will keep well in advance of the others. Our course is by way of the Ottawa. You know that stream. Alrtidali?" The Indian bowed his head gravely and extended one hand beneath the scarlet fold of his blanket. "Five time., monsieur." "How tar to the west, chief?" "To place call Green Bay." Cassion turned, his eyes on D'Arti­ gny, a slight sneer curling his lips. "And you?" he asked coldly. "But one journey, monsieur, along the Ottawa and the lakes." was the quiet answer^ "and that three years ago, yet I scarce think I would go astray. 'Tis not a course easily for­ gotten." , "And beyond Green Bay?" "I have been to the mouth of the great river." "You!" in surprise. *Were you of that party?" "Yes, monsieur." "And you actually reached the sea-- the salt water?" • "Yes, monsieur." >' "Saint Anne! I never half believed the tale true, nor do I think overmuch of your word for It But let that go. Chevet here tells me you knovt a shorter journey to the Illinois?" "Not by canoe, monsieur. I fol­ lowed Sieur de la Salie by forest trail to the straits, and planned to return that way, but 'tis a foot Journey." "What will be your course from Green Bay?" "Along the west shore, it is dangerous only by storms." "And the distance?" "From St Ignace?" "Ay! from St. Ignace! What dis­ tance lies between there and this Fort St Loutai on the Illinois?" " 'Twill be but a venture, monsieur, but I think 'tis held at a hundred and fifty leagues." "Of wilderness?" "When I passed that way--yes; they tell me now the Jesuits have mission station at Green Bay, and there may be fur traders In Indian Tillages be­ yond." "No chance to procure supplies?" "Only scant rations of corn from the Indians." "Tour report is In accordance with mf Instructions and maps, and no di>ubt is correct That will be all. Take two more men in your boat and depart at once. We s^all follow im­ mediately." . > monsieur; reason of down from behind the c&lef, and ex­ tended his hand. "A slight spring," he said, "putt jrm land with dry feet; good! now let me lift you--so." I bad but the instant ; I knew that frr I heard Cassion cry out something j**8t behind me, and, surprised as I *as , by the sudden appearance of D'Artigny, I yet realised the neces­ sity for swift speech. "Moosleur," I whisperegl. "Do not tAlk. hut listen. You would serve use?"' "Ayf' "Then ask nothing, and above all d> not quarrel with Cassion. I .will ti ll you everything the moment I, can J CHAPTER VIII. I Defy Cassion. . fJuf progress was slow against the swift current of the St. Lawrence, and we kept close to the overhanging bank, following the guidance of the leading canoe. We were the second in line, and no longer overcrowded, so' that I had ample room to rest at ease upon a pile of blankets, and gaze about me with Interest on the chang­ ing scene. Ahead of us, now sweeping around the point like a wild bird, amid a1 smother of spray, appeared the advance canoe. As it disappeared I coyld dis­ tinguish D'Artigny at the stern, his coat off. his hands grasping a paddle. \bove the point once more and In smoother water, I was aware that he turned and looked back, shading his eyes from the suiu. 1 could not but wonder what he thought, what possi­ ble suspicion had come to him, re­ garding my presence in the company. Jn some manner I must keep him tway from Cassion--ay, aud from Chevet--until opportunity came from me to first communicate with him! Insensibly my head rested back against the pile of blankets, the glint of sunshine along the surface of the water vanished as my lashes fell, and. before I knew it, I slept soundly. I awoke with the sun in the western sky, so low down as to peep at me through thfe upper branches of trees lining the hank. Behind us stretched space of straight water, and one canoe was close, while the second was barely visible along a curve of the shore. Ahead, however, the river ap­ peared vacant, the leading boat hav­ ing vanished around a wooded bend. My eyes met those of Cassion, and the tight of him instantly restored me to a recollection of my plan -- nothing eould be gained by open warfare. I pertnitted my Hps to smile, and noted instantly the change of expression In his face. "1 have slept well, monsieur,** I said pleasantly, "for I was very tired." "'TIs the best way on a boat voy- Age." assuming bis old manner, "but now the day Is nearly done." As we skirted the extremity of shore I saw the opening In the woods, and the gleam of a cheerful flre amid green £ras*. The advance canoe swunn half hidden amid the overhanging roots of a huge pine tree, and the men were busily at work ashore. As we nosed Into the bank, our sharp bow was grasped by waiting Indians and drawn safely ashore. I reached any f^et. stiffened, and scareely able to move my limbs, but deternlned to laud without aid of Cassion, whose passage forward was blocked hy Chevet's hup bulk. As my weight rested on th Before I Knew It* I 8(ept Soundly. see you safely alone. Until then do not seek me. I .have your word?" He .did not answer, for the commis­ saire grasped my arm! and thrust him­ self in between us. his action so swift that the impact of his body thrust D'Artigny back a step. I saw the hand of the younger man close on the knife hilt at his belt, but was quick enough to avert the hot words burning his lips. "A bit rough, Monsieur Cassion," I cried, laughing merrily, even as I re­ leased my arm. "Why so much baste? I was near falling, and it was but courtesy which led the Sieur d'Arti­ gny to extend me his hand. It does not please me for you to be ever seeking a quarrel." There must have been that in my face which cooled him, for his hand fell, and bis thin lips curled into sar­ castic smile. "If I seemed hasty," he exclaimed, "it was more because I was blocked by that boor of a Chevet yonder, and it angered me to have this young gamecock ever at hand to push in. What think you you were employed for, fellow--an esquire of dames? Was there not work enough In the camp yonder, that you must be testing your fancy graces every time a boat lands?" There was no mild look in D'Arti- gry's eyes as he fronted him, yet he held his temper, recalling my plea, no dcubt, and I hastened to step between ard furnish him excuse for silence. ' 'Surely you do wrong to blame the. young man, monsieur, as but for his aid I would have slipped yonder. There Is no cause for hard words, nor do I thank you for making me a sub­ ject of quarrel. Is It my tent they erect yonder?" 'Ay," there was tittle,' graclotisness to the tone, for the . man had the na­ ture of a bully. " 'Twas my thought that it be brought for your use; and if Monsieur d'Artigny will consent to st'ind aside, it will give me pleasure to escort you thither." The younger man's eyes glanced fr>m the other's face Into mine, as though seeking reassurance. His hat was instantly in his hand, and be stepped backward, bowing low. "The wish of the lady Is sufficient." he said quietly, and then stood again erect, facing Cassion. "Yet," he ad­ ded slowly, "I would remind monsieur that while I serve him as a guide, it is as a volunteer, and I am also an oPlcer of France." DESERVED TO KEEP HIS LIFE "Of France? Pah! of the renegade La Salle." "France has no more loyal servant. Monsieur Cassion, in allv this western land--nor is he renegade; for he holds the Illinois at the king's command." "Held it--yes; under Frontenac, but not now?' "We will not quarrel over words, yet not^even in Quebec was it claimed that higher authority than La Barre's had led to recall. Louis had never in-, terfered, and it Is De Tonty, and not De Baugis who Is In command at St. Louis by royal order. My right to respect of rank is clearer than your owp, monsieur, so I beg y0|J curb .ypw temper." f "You threaten me?" ' v„ "No; we who live lfi"tfflfe do not talk) we act. I obey your or­ ders, dp your will, on this expedition, but as a man, not a slave. In all else W9 stand equal, and I accept insult from no living man. 'Tts well that you know this, monsieur." The hat was back upon his head, and he had turned away before Cas­ sion found answering speech. "Mon Dieu! I'll show the pup who is the master," he muttered. "Let him disobey once, and I'll stretch his dainty form as I would an Indian cur." "Monsieur," I said, drawing his at­ tention to'my presence. "'Tis of no interest to me your silly quarrel with 8leur d'Artigny. I am weary with the boat Journey, and would rest unttf food is served." I walked beside him among the trees, and across the patch of grass to where the tent stood against a background of rock. D'Artigny had disappeared, although I glanced about in search for him, as Cassion- drew aside the tent flap, and peered within. He appeared pleased at the way in which his orders had been executed. " 'Tis very neat, indeed, monsieur," I said pleasantly, glancing inside. "I owe you my thanks." . " 'Twas brought for my own use," he confessed, encouraged by my gra- clousness, "for, as you know, Y had no previous warning that you were to be of our party. Please step with­ in." I did so, yet turned instantly to pre­ vent his following me. Already I had determined on my course of action, /ind now the time had come for me to speak him clearly; yet now that I had definite purpose in view it was no part of my game to anger the man. "Monsieur," I said soberly "! must beg your mercy. I am but a girl, and alone. It is true I am your wife by law, but the change has come so sud­ denly that I am yet dazed. I appeal to you as a gentleman." He stared Into my faee, scarcely comprehending all my meaning. "You would bar me without? Yo« forbid me entrance?" "Would you seek to enter against my wish?" "But you are my wife; that you will not deny! What will be said, thought, if I go elsewhere?" "Monsieur, save for Hugo Chevet, none In this company know the story of that marriage, or why I am here. What 1 ask brings no stain upon you. 'Tis not that I so dislike you, mon­ sieur, but I am the daughter of Pierre la Cbesnayne. and 'tis not in my blood to yield to force. It will be best to yield me respect and consideration." "You are a sly wench," he said, laughing unpleasantly, "but it may tie best that I give you your own way for this once. There is'time enough In which to teach you my power. And so you shut the tent to me, fair lady. In spite of your pledge to Holy church. Ah, well! there are storms a plenty be­ tween here and St. Ignac#, and you will become lonely enough in the wil­ derness to welcome me. One kiss, aad I leave you." "No, monsieur." 0 His eyes were ugly. "You refuse that! Mon Dieu! Ito you think I play? I will have the kiss--or more." Will the girl wife win this opening battle with her wits-- she has no other defense--or must she succumb to the strength and brutality of Cas­ sion ? « Hinted Boar 8howed Much Clever­ ness In Making His Escape When Hard Pressed by Pursuer. ' The boar is a terrible enemy, and alio an alarmingly agile one. An Eng­ lish 'sportsman tells of a splendid es­ cape made by one of these creatures in India. This boar, which had been hard pressed, galloped Into a nullah, a very sharp, deep cut. more like a narrow chasm than a ravine. Down this, along the bottom of it he raced, followed by a man on a swift horse. The banVs on each side overhanging the boar were six feet or more in height. Suddenly the creature turned a sharp corner, which hid him from view. Th^n, by a tremendous effortf he scaled the bank and gained the top. He turned shoit around, leaped the entire width of the nullah, and landed safely on the other side, clearing both horse and rider as he jumped, save for the man's pith helmet which he kt-ocked off. He had escaped by « narrow margin. (TO BE CONTINUED.) which the fish came in great numbers on (heir way in to spawn. He was right In his selection of a site and the salmon were caught in vast quanti­ ties. They were all, however, of the light pink variety, and the fisherman wan in despair. At that time no light cokrod salmon had been shipped and the demand everywhere was for sal­ mon of an almost red hue. The man canned his catch and sold it by means- of a label which Implied that it was the only sanitary fish on the market. The label read: "This salmon is war­ ranted not to turn red in the can." The most of the eatch went to the southern states, end the drummers selling It did their business so well that la many of the cities of that locality you can hardly sell a red salmon. The pe* pie think it Is spoiled, end has, there­ fore, turned red In the o«a.--Christian H »|-yii1 -- Salmon ef Fast Color, Ami In this connection story, which is fairly well suth?ni* cuted, of how one ot the salmon kings started his fortune in the fish Indus tri <& the batiia of the then despised llght-awH-.red salmon. This man had edge of the canoe D'Artiguy swuag^pu* up his cannery at a location past Making Monsy Fly. "Thd Pittsburgh papera pubttafc • great deal of Broadway gossip." "You know why that is, don't vou?" "No." "That's to let the home folks know what the PlttAburgJi millionaires art doing when they are out of town." p-iKSRBS L wined. "Age Is a good thing in wins, bat a bad thing In women. Now, why?" "Because while yo« cant pat It down in one, )o« i U IB th* e^heft* LATEST ACCESSORIES UPON WHICH COSTUME DEPgNPS. Ceffir and Pice f»r Which it t*€Kba«h Must Be Harmonious for Perfect Effect--Two Dainty Neck- wear Suggestions. Skill In selecting accessories is often the major asset of a woman who ranks as the best-dressed individual in her own set Gloves, shoes, hat «dd neck dressing must be thought out carefully and the question of furs Js one that comes up for consideration. The summer fuR vogue is stronger than it was^ year ago, when it first received general American recognition. Last year natural animal scarfs pret­ ty well dominated the "summer fur Showing; but this season innumerable smart novelties are displayed. Stole scarfs lined with thin satin or chiffon, little three-cornered wraps of fiat fury collarettes afiii all sorts of clever lit* tie capes are shown. In regard to summer neckwear, Lt> must be noted that many periods cow tribute, and a collar taken from the era of Henry n, Byron, Oliver Crom­ well or Victoria may be equally smart provided the collar and the face lor which it ie chosen as a framing blend harmoniously. Cape and fichu effects ere extremely gbod and sailor, cavalier and fkon shapes are also favored. Some tailored collars of pique or linen have organdie cape collar, capes of net batiste, etc., are thought highly of and are worn with frocks of silk, voile and other sheer summer fabrics. Crorff- well collars or organdie" daintily em­ broidered are youthful and smart. Fichu collars, show best when made of some very soft, thin fabric, such as georgette crepe, crepe de chine, mous- sellne de sole or chiffon, and collars Suggesting the Henry II period are made of thin material and are boned to keep them erect "and in shape. The question of collars and many other accessories of dress is limited only by the Inclination of the individ­ ual to set brain and fingers to work on the development of novelties, for ac-^ tual cost enters in a very small degree.. ";2 into the matter. Odds and ends ot'. V lace or other leftover dress trimming or fabrics may with excellent results!!* be pressed into service. i Two suggestions are offered in -*hs^':- sketch shown herewith. The upper ple4< ture gives a collar and cuff set, em-!!'# ploying black satin and white organdie, with small white pearl buttons as thesi s finishing touch, and the lower sketch Dainty Accessories That May Be Made at Home. shows a simple round collar of rose- colored georgette crepe, caught with a bow of French blue velvet ribbon. The question of veils is also an Im­ portant one when selecting the sum­ mer accessories of dress. Many net and lace veils ad well as the more serviceable chiffon ones, are fashion­ able, and there-is a considerable color range to choose from. The wise wom­ an will try the effect of the different colors on her own complexion before choosing. i DAINTINESS AWAY FROH HOflE <ts Achievement Never an Easy Mat­ ter, and Calls for Much Tims and Attention. Daintiness has ever been the most al­ luring of feminine attributes, but at­ taining it is no small trouble. To be truly dainty a woman must spend time end money attending to the little items of her toilette that give her the right to the adjective. To achieve daintiness while traveling is an art. Several bottles should be Included in the traveling bag or case. One should CHARMlNa EVENING GOWil contain alcohol to cleanse the skin with. Pure alcohpl may or may not agree with a tender skip, so that if it is diluted with half rain water and hall alcohol no possible Irritation can re­ sult This liquid, when dabbed gentl7 over the skin with pads of absorbeut cotton while traveling will remove the dust and prevent It from getting em­ bedded in the skin. Benzoin is another necessary of the traveler's kit This also is to be patted into the skin, and ma^ be poured, a few drops at a time, into the Wash basin of 'the train dressing room to soften the water. The odor of tinc­ ture of benzoin is delightfully aromatic and a dash of toilet water afterward makes the skin as fresh as a rose. Good cold cream of course is not overlooked in the list, only It Is taken so much for granted that the other ar­ ticles mentioned above are to be looked on as its successors. The cream should be l*ubbed into the skin when milady starts out on her journey, after the pores of the skin, have been cleansed and opened. Then follows the bensoin and toilet water treatment. The last requisite is a bottle of pun­ gent smelling salts for probable train sickness. Everyone knows the nau­ seating sensation after an hour or two on the train. If . smelling salts are at hand, the knowledge of their presence is reassuring. •M '.. s >• « . M A very dainty and charming evening gown is this one ef white tulle. Its simplicity adds a tone of richness and "quality" to it which ornamenta­ tion would fall to do. The skirt falls in simple lines in the front but is draped just a trifle in the back. Th« waist is extremely deeoliete with a semi-blouse effect. Bright Silver arid Tulle. What in the world did fashion do bo* fore someone thought of silver ribbon and tissue for gaslight wear? An en­ chanting dance frock Just completed is made of white tulle and silver ribbons --nothing else, if one excepts a sim­ ple foundation slip of silver tissue which gleams delicately through the floating skirt of tulle. There ate in fact three skirts of tulle, and qn the second one is a wide silver ribbon, set at the knee. The girdle is of similar silver /'ribbon run across the chiffon underbodices, below the drapery of tulle. ? At the front of the skirt about eight inches below the waistline, is set a tab of silver ribbon fastened to the tulle with rosettes of Narrower silver ribbon, and from the girdle de­ pend four tabs of rTTJbon likewise trimmed with silvery rosettes. Can you imagine the sparkle and drifting whiteness of this lovely, frock on a ballroom floor? . f To Presses Plaited Skirt When pressing a plaited skirt, after you have laid the skirt on the ironing board fold the plaits evenly and pin them to the ironing blanket at the bot­ tom. Hold the waistband firmly with the left hand, and iron from the bot­ tom toward the topi, Hold the plait tightly ai you iron It. . » BEST COLOR FOR LAMPSHADE #- v HL. , Jt Excellent Reason Why Rose Shads Never Seems to Lose its Popularity. Green may be a good color for the eyes. Violet may be an esthetic color., Yellow may be a cheerftl color. But rose color is the most becoming color for a lampshade. Fortunately, most people realise this fact At hotels and restaurants and In private houses where the decora­ tions are plnnned to emphasize the best in the persons who live amoug them, rose colored lampshades are much in evidence. Lampshudes always ought to be planned with a view to the light they east That Is why the rose*colored shade is the most becoming. For any woman knows that her color glows more under a rose light than under any other, that wrinkles are minimized that skin is softened and that every vestige of prettluess she possesses is thls soft color. ^ Sunlight emphasises wrinkles and makes the skin look harder--and no­ body minds on the golf courses or the skating pond. But In the evening, when woman puts forth her greatest efforts In the matter of dress, she wants to look her prettiest; and this the ^rqse-colored lampshade, frpjpfc fry* V4;., r. Dresses for Fall.^ ' There Is a great diversity In the dress styles now shown, the Dry Goods Economist says. In the Louis XT styles, which have adoption in the higher class dresses, there is a tight­ ening of the bodice nnd an increase in the fullness in the skirt In sharp con- trust to this fashion are the Russian blouse dressee ?nd those which are cut on straight lines with an elongated waistline. Draperies and tunics ap­ pear in a wide range of effwts. Some of the smartest draperies are of bouf­ fant character. A few princess gowns are shown, many having broken linti over the hips. * *£'.{•?a i I'V:*;. *«'? '