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■h ■■ oan n am n 8ure,SafeCur« rPiLii otoektosorfe-Xeeai I
... --SPINSTERS & SOCIALISM.…
SPINSTERS & SOCIALISM. PENSIONS FOR OLD MAIDS. The rising tide of Socialism that threatens to turn many things topsy-turvy has, so far, left untouched one cits.i—the great multitude of solitary spiiistors, who, patient at Penelope of old, but without her incentive to labour, go on from year to year in a weary round .of ineffec- tive duties and utoLesB work; unsatisfied as to the present and hopeless as to Lhe future. Amongst t/he ltost of educated, dowerletsa daugh- ters of Englamd there are thousands who have to face an old age of. aiteoluto poverty; for with alj the talk of women wresting from man the means of livelihood, the fact remains that comparatively few women can earn, by their own labour, a compotcnoy- The majority are badly paid and overworked, and to thim the "joy of being" soon become a hollow, meaning- less phrase, or a taunt of bitter irony. To few ia given the gliad spirit of "Pinna," or the fine courage that greets with cheerfulness ail doubts and difficulties, of which Browning writes so ini-piringly in "Asolanda." Even Ruskin's call to the daughters of England in "Sesame and Lilies" 13ems almost a travesty under the pre- sent conditiona-, which are destructive alike to the chivalry of man and' the charm and grace of womanhood. TAX ON BACHELORS. Why should not spinetor8 be pensioned by the State. The ta for this purpose might surely be levied on the bachelors of the country. Spin- sterp should not be available for these State pensions unitil they !had reached the age of forty-five or fifty years, except by reason of ill- health or other similar cause. To earn the right to such a pension the woman must prove her willingness to work in such suitable em- ployiment tag a beneficent State might well pro- vide. There should be property organised avenues of employment, instituted and con- trolled by the State, in wfhich every woman needling it could demand the right of obtaining suitable work at suoh rates of pay and under such conditions as would' enable her to lead a happy, useful life, even though no man desired her for wifa STATE FOSTER-MOTHERS- First of all might come the employment of such women as foster-mothers to tihe "children of the State," who now crowd the workhouses and district schools, costing for their miserable up-bringing far more than the average rate- payer can afford to pay for his own children, for the aum varies from about 10s to over 20s per head per week. Every district has its com- plement of children of this cla&s, every district almost has its complement of unmarried wcttnem, competent to assume the oalre of such children or, if not already competent, available for the instruction necessary to fit them for suoh duties. lhe guardians of the poor would, as now. havo supervision over the children, an*} their duty, would be to encourage excellence in the care and training of the children by the foster- mothers A central department should be created for the diffusion of infeirmation and in- stj-uctton on all the these points, and the autho- should have the power of nominating in every district persons specially qualified in the !a'nd education of children to co-operate work ?uardlana and foster-mothexB in their WORK FOR ALL. « rn.eaiIia wp^ld be possible to provide brlni? tlh« best of all interest^ mto the lives of women who, otherwise, would be deprived of all tihat is of most worth to women-t.he opportunity of ministering to those needing their mro and love. Almost aJJ women lo7e for ohiJdroni> and work in direction should be held in highest honour a/Lh and be most highly rewarded. For such women as show no aptitude or desire for the duties of foster-mothers there should be other for employment. To this end Mate weaving industries and other institu- tions for production of commodities needed fee C ot,hmg chargeable to tihe State should bo established. In these in. o'^kant employment of spinsters and widows of good character would be assured- In connection with the administration of such fifufw 6 wau,ld weJJ-naid posts to be filled by women with the necessary ability and f i m oleri<3al w«rk and minor J working opportunitiies for girls now engaged as typists, clerks, and! assistants in business houses Such, State-regulated estab- lishments would' provide a pure means of living- during tho working yeans of a woman's life and enable liar to earn the right to a pension whose minimum should be 10a -or wook. The organisation of woman's labour in these direc- rrwvr^,remove the competition from which men (Suffer by reason of women's wijlmgnesa to accept inadequate pay.—"Daily Telegraph" i
LLANRWST RURAL DISTRICT COUNCIL.
LLANRWST RURAL DISTRICT COUNCIL. BETTWSYCOED STEPPING-STONES. In the absence of the Rev. H. Rawson Wil- liams, who, with the Clerk (Mr R. R. Owen), was attending a Conference on the Sanatorium question, at Chester, Mr John Davies, Bryniog Uoha, presided at the monthly meeting of the above Council, on Tuesday. Other members present were: Messrs Edward Edwards, Capel Garmon; David Owen, Llanddoget; David Lewis, Pant Llin; Rowland Hughes, Eglwys- ba.ch; and John Davies, Gwytherin; with the deputy clerk (Mr Thomas Hughes), and the sur- veyor (Mr Maurice Roberts). ALLEGED NUISANCE AT TALYCAFN. Further letters were read from Mr A. O. Evans, solicitor, Denbigh, regarding the above matter and stating that he had heard from his client, Mr David Hughes, that nothing had been done, and tha.t this matter will be made the subject of a claim by him against the Coun- cil. was also read from the London and North-Western Railway Company, respecting the same matter, and stating that it had been referred to Mr Mackie, of the Estate Depart- ment of the Company. As nothing definite had been received from the Railway Company, it was decided to ad- journ the matter until that came to hand. RE-APPOINTMENT. On the motion of the Chairman, Mr Maurice Roberts was re-appointed inspector of nuis- ances. BETTWSYCOED STEPPING-STONES. A letter was read from Messrs Hughes and Rowlands, Colwyn Bay, asking for an advance ot £28 on the Glanrhyd stepping-stones con- tract. The Surveyor reported that on the previous Saturday he, in company with the Chairman and tihe representatives! of the Bettwsyooed Council, inspected the Glanrhyd stepping-stones, near Bettwisyooed. They found that three of the old stones on the Carnarvonshire side of the river were not in position with the rest of the stones. They all agreed that the contractors Messrs Hughes and Rowlands, should be paid ZZ2 on account of the contract, and that they shoulld sign a stamped agreement that they would be responsible for the up-keep of the stones during the next twelve months. The con- tractors had finished the work on the Denbigh- shire side, and he (the Surveyor) considered it F3*! a.lgrC^ improvement to those using the tootpath and the ste,pping-etones. The contrac- tors were entitled to je5 lCM for extra work done on the Denbighshire side. It was decided to adopt the recommendation AT P ai.rm^n and Surveyor, on the motion ot Mr Rowland Hughes, and that it be a sug- gestion to the Bettwsyooed Council to contribute to the expense of putting cement under the Sron€9. APPLICATION FOR WATER SUPPLY. Mr Meeson, Furnace. Farm, Talycafn, wrote stating that he had made an application to the inlandudno Urban Council for a supply of water to his farm, but they wrote in reply that the application must come through the Rural Dis- trict Council. unanimously agreed to make the ap- VITAL STATISTICS. The Medical Offioer of Health reported that during August there were seven births and three deaths, inoluding one non-resident; as against three births and six deaths, for the cor- responding month last year, giving an average death-rate of 17.2, as against 26.2.
[No title]
When., a hawker and his wife were charged before the Llaingollen magistrates for drunk- en/nessi, tihe maie defemdiawt said that Llangollen beer always overcame them; they were all right anywhere else. Never gtive a definite opinion as to how long a. paitAent suffering from phthisis will live. far tihe ceily certainty ia, that if you db, you will ha wrong.—"Lanioefh."
IFOOD AND HEALTH NOTES.
FOOD AND HEALTH NOTES. (From a Correspondent.) YORKSHIRE BREAD. # A friend of mine who loajrnt her cooking very eaurly in life in Yorkshire, makes the bqso household bieacv I ever remember eating. It is always so sweet and lieht,, aind as the treshn^ai of the baking wears off, the bread shows a dø- lightful tendency to crumble to the knife with- out becoming at a £ i dry and chaffy. Years ago she and her husband bag an married life in a. homestead of tihetir own a few milea out of Wakefield. Since these happy days the world has gone hard with hor, and the cibath of her husband after a long eetries of minor misfor- tunes has brought hor at lust to ront a small ottage in a south-country village. But through all her troaubta she has kept a smiling face, and although her funnily is not so largo now a.8 formerly, and she has not t.he roomy oven of the old homestead for her baking, aho lias kept all her honest nctrth-courntfy pride in her home made bread. THE SECRET OF IT. Last week, at the village flower show she was shewing bread against tine best of our south- country housewives, and as usual carried oil all the prizes. While we stood together in the tent during the afterncon the squire's ksdy came across and asked her to divulge the secret of her excellent bread. Mv friend laughed, in her quiet Yorkshire fashion- "I oould give you the recipe oasiJy enough, madam," • she said, "but ulIayhe oven then it wouldn't work out rignt in another body's haJlJ. You see the secret after adl is just in the mixing and the kneading." is much. in this, I think, that commenda itself to meat of us who have tried break-mak- Jing at home. We feel that when wo have bcyged every favourite recipe and helpful hint from our friends that we have not got quite to the bottom of tlheir secret. There is just thia something,, over and above the exact quantities of flour and Aviater and yeast to be used, thwt cannot be passed on from one to another. Ib is just the loving hamdliing of t.he dough in the mixing and the kneading that mahes all the difference between the average good loaf and that perioct loaf vvhiich. 60rne of us arc always trying in vain to make. WHY WE FAIL. How it is that we fail to attain perfection in break'-making is therefore a question not aju ways easy to answer, since some women who are most careful to follow a recipe out to tib» letter are often disappointed with their efforts. But there are failuxep, and these are tha most common, in which bread-making is taken up in a manner chat must of necessity court droaster- There are so many of u especially when we aire yiouiig and new to housekeeping, who,, for the want of a kindly hint. rush at tha start into the most difficult way of doing things. Bread-making is not easy, and the novioa is always well-advised bo try her hand1 first a* small breaikfast rolls or twists instead of begirt- ning on quartern loaves, which may or may not and the timing of which ia always a. difficult matter for the unpractised eye to judge. A little piraotioal experience of how yooost war^ should always be acquired in a way before the mare ambitious stage of household bread-making is entered upon WHAT IS YEAST? Yeast really a microscopic plant. When the backers spong» is kept at a certain moist starch of tihe flouar is gradually con- verted, by the diastase ferment that nature has placed in every kernel of wheat, into a form of sugar. Upon this sugar the yeast plant foods, mid growing very rapidly, spread itself through the dough, gmng off at the same time oarbotv dioxide gas. It Os this gas which forces its way between tho tenacious particles of g.Luten and thereby lightens the dough. Thus She process of la^htening bread is a complicated one, de- pending first, on the oaneful mixing of the 1n,. gredienitd; secondly, on the miaantcnanoe of a pegniW moist heat; and, thirdly, on the use o2 lust suffioieinti strong but purified yeast to spread itself through the dough. It is impossible to make good bread' when these conditions are not Observed. A GOOD wORKIiNG YEAST. A very good yeast to use for home baking, and one that my Yorkshire friend always uses, is tihe Balloon Yeast, supplied by tOO Home Yeast Company, Ltd., 47, St. PauAVstreet. Leeds. Ordinary brewers' yeast is, of eourse. mipuinfied, and very likely to give the bread a disagreeable tapte and odour. A good com. pressed yoost, like the Balloon, on the other hand, is very uniform in its working, and much olaaneir_ aaxj more wholesome to use, being grown in carefully prepared sweet liquor, and not taken haphazard from the brewers or dis- tillers' vat. Hare is a quick and jsatisfaotory method of begmmmg hread-maiking BIt h whioh may 'help those who are winning to start home- baJang, Take lib. white flour, one teaapoomfui Ba.lt, hal'i ajx Balioon yeasty one teasipooo- tua sUigiar; half pinA Minn water. Mix flour -i together, cream Bugaj and yeatt unftil tiboy beoon^e ii-qm<L &tLd wiajm watwi stroma into the centre of the flour, knead well. aind allow the dough to rise for one hour in a warm place. Make into little loaves or rolls, prove for twenty minutes, and make in ouiok oven. 1 BREAKFAST ROLLS WITHOUT YEAST. Those who do not oare to try yeast can make very good breakfast roilg at home simply by using a pure baking powder, like Borwick s aM a lightoniing agefnt. This recipe, in whicL » little butter is used for shortening, makes ex- cellent light rolls. Take lib. of flour, two tea* spoonfuls Borwiok'a Baking Powxfer, one tea- spoonful salt, two ounces butter, mix with about a. pint of sweet milk, make up into twistflL pleats and rungs, brush over with eg, bake in hot oven for ten minutes STARCH INTO SUGAR. 4iu^'e P'rooesf0s employed in the manufacture of the various brandp of wholemeal health breads at present on the market are so generally un- derstood to-at they need not be commented upon were. But mt may be news to many people rtmit the popular cereal food, grape-nute. which comes to us in such a dufferent farm, is for conven- ience ait one stage of its long and varied pro- cess of manufacture made up into loaf form and baked. Wheat and barley and a fraction of common salt are the only ingredients that go to tha. making of this nourishing- food, and the pnooew of manufacture is quite easy to understand. The barfoy employed is first malted, then dried then ground into flour, and mixed in oertab? pronontoons with finely ground entire whea*, This blended flour is -then made into lW loaves, whaoh are baked at a steady heat 3 slow ovens Each loaf is then sliced, and thd slices Placed on, wire trays in secondlarv ovens, from wlhaoh after many hour0 they are with* drawn and ground into the co-isp dainty brown granules with which we so familiar. From, the prehminary blending of the two floured wards to the finial grinding sitage, the food is fn» twenty home without a break treated with vary- ing decrees of moist or dry heat, skilfully^, ec^nklt controlled by a specially construot- edJ p llalDtt. The object aimed at in this nroloncfv) Arul careful cooking is to employ the naturally dia* ?ar,r7 utmost limit peed* n lnalCf>nVer3]T- flouir 6t*roh into dJ3S Or grape-sugar which we saw carried on in i very smaJl way in the baker's spom all the flour employed in the making or 2 naa-y bread, of course, appears in the baked brew 81111 P 7c as unaltered, il1d.igestri,bl.e etaa naa-y bread, of course, appears in the baked 81111 P 7c as unaltered, indigestible etardh. hand the^11^facturo of griaipe-nuts, on the othaP Soh S°aroely.a faction of this stawE escapes conversion into grape-smear nr erLrgy. subsfcances that go to make human
INSURE AGAINST ACCIDENTS.…
INSURE AGAINST ACCIDENTS. THE BEST POLICY FOR HOUSEWIVES. The greatest, number of claims under the now Compensation Act have ariaen it through sunpie cuts and bruises cated by festering and blood-poisoning Hence there is more necessity to keep Zam< uk handy now-a-daya, to save expense and pre. vent grave skin disease. It is ever-ready foi use, and is indispensable in every home Always keep a box of Zam-Buk on a handy shelf in the home, in the workshop, in the fao- tory, down the mine, on the football field os wherever you are. It ia the ideal first-aid. If a out is sustained-especially if it be inflicted by a rusty nail or rusty knife—cleanse well at once with tepid water, and, after drying, gently smear Zam-Buk freely over the injured part. In the case of an abrasion or scald, cover up at once with a piece of clean lint to keep out the air. Immediately Zam-Buk touches a wound, the germs which are there to start the festering and inflammation are destroyed, pain is instantly soothed, inflammation allayed, and now skin and tissue is grown. The secret of success lies in ita unique origin, and the wonderful blending of Ita ingredients, which are derived from certain her- bal juices and saps of rare medicinal power. Zam-Buk contains no trace of rancid animal fat, mineral poison, mercury, or any other of the harmful substances frequently found- in coarse ointments and oheap salves. Zam-Bak is ea. sentially a natural healer and antiseptio. It ia reminiscent of the vegetable balms of ancient Rome. Every home should keep a box handy became' daily mishaps make Z-Buk. a daily need. At a certain remedy for piles (blind or bleeding), and a soothing and perfect cure for eozema and other skin disfigurements, Zam-Buk has no equal Ita wonderful powers, its purity, and refinement, and its unique herbal composition, make Zam-Buk, in the words of ita daily users, priceless boon. Of all chemists for 18 lid 01 289cL
ROADSIDE ROMANCES.
ROADSIDE ROMANCES. BY GEORGE EDGAR Author of "Seaside Stories," "Pagan Billy Gubbins," "Tarradiddles," "Love at the Prow," "The Mysterious Minstrel," &0. VII —THE NIGHT ATTACK. This is a tale they tell of Wedgerton, in the county of Broaclohire, which, as everyone does not know, i.s situate anywhere you like to place it between the Mersey and the Clyde. I do not give the real name because the actors are alive and prospering, and it ie no desire of the author to interrupt that prosperity. Wedgerton is a place with one High-street, one church, one hotel, two public-houses, a post-office, and some eight or ten thousand souls all told. It has a market each Thurs- day, and that is all that happens except the Petty Sessions fortnightly, and an occasional dissipation in the form of a garden party. I happened to walk into the town one week- end, liking the trout fishing, I stayed a fortnight, borrowing tackle of old Saul, who owns a riparian hotel, a boat-house, and other necessary things for the comfort of the pleasure seeker. In the evenings, after the light began to go, I used to sit out with old Saul—whose Other name was Stubbins. He had been there all his life, so had generation after generation of Stubbinses, and the male line for five generations had been Sauls by Christian name and had kept the riparian hotel as a, profession and a justification for life. This story is one of the cracks I had with old Saul, and as he is an excellent story- teller, and does not waste much time in pre- amhbs, I might as well imitate his example and settle down to our muttons. In cataloguing the attractions of the town of Wedgerton, I omitted to mention that it had a police-station. The police-station is in charge of one bull-necked sergeant by the name of Thomas Wiggins. His wife looks after the domestic duties, and two very red-faced constables with freckles as big as ladybirds, end quite as rich in colour, make the station their professional headquarters. Now Sergeant Wiggins has not always fceen a sergeant. He was P.C. Wiggins, No. 64, of the Broadshire County Constabu- lary for twenty years, and there was a time .when he looked as if his personality would be rooted to the minor office. It is also neces- sary to state that Mrs. Wiggins has not al- iways been a sergeant's wife, and was not the able consort of Wiggins as a common police- man. Indeed, she was sometime married to one Staples, the local liveryman. Mrs. Staples was really the liveryman, because her spouse, Staples, developed a persistent taste for whisky and the company assembled in the Red Lion. When he died there was very little left of the livery business or of any- thing else except the Widow Staples, who was a tight, buxom, and still attractive widow of the Dickensian type. The decease of Staples did not make for great grief or persistent widowed gloom. Staples had been drowning himself ten years, and the end, ever in sight, inured Mrs. Staples to its possibility. So when Staples died his widow sold what was left of the livery business, took a detached house built of cred sandstone in a quiet little lane, and kept <6n "all sorts" shop, which included bull's- eyes and patent medicines, treacle toffee and hardware, chocolate and crockery, and drove < thriving trade. And the little red sand-stone house was spotlessly clean, the shop well kept, and when the bell did not tinkle at the door the widow might have been seen keep- ing her kitchen, which was at the back, and her larder, which was the cellar underneath the shop, in that comfortable and compact condition usually described in the district aa apple-pie order. Now P.C. Wiggins, besides being a police- man, had a human heart beating under his blue tunic, and he looked on the Widow JStaples and was glad. Indeed, the Widow Staples had a curious and obvious effect on Ahe imposing constabulary form, for it made he heart under the tunic, not only beat in £ uch a tumultuous way that it threatened to iburst off one of his bright white buttons, but it made his face grow a shade redder— a diffi- cult thing—and made him to stammer and to stutter quite painfully. He got into the habit, when off duty, of calling at the red house—" buying tobacco, matches, polish for his but- tons, oil for his lighting, and other details Separately, so that he had excuses for going Often. And the signs were understood by the apple -faced widow—even as woman has un- I oeistood through all the ages. It was not surprising, therefore, one Saturday evening, when the shop was quiet, that Wiggins, Sivested of his authoritative uniform, strolled into the shop. In a heavy suit of tweeds he looked some- fching like a gamekeeper, something like a policeman, something like a 'busman on a holiday, all at once. He was the usual shade (redder, and there was a little more hesi- tancy in his manner than was normally the Case. Two ounces of the usual," he said. ( The widow bustled, got down the little fckick tin, took a handful of brown bird's-eye Erom. its interior and weighed it out. And (when the scale drew she put half a chubby handful on, impulsively—just for luck, per- baps. Did the policeman take this as a sign? iypell, he did make a clumsy attempt to put Jthe tobacco in his pouch and failed. And the ftVidow Staples took the work in hand and ifleftly placed the tobacco in the proper re- ceptacle for it. Then the policeman, breath- ing hard, had to s-tow the pouch safely away; jthat took a long time. After, he drew out a pig-skin purse, and that took a long time. It took a little longer to extract half-a-sove- leign. More time was used in changing it. the serious matter of counting the (change, fastening the pig-ekin puree, and Stowing that away, too, also took much time. flThen the constable lurched towards the door, Stopped, swung on one leg, half-turned round, Btarted for the door, stopped, lurched on one feg, and finally turned completely round. All this time the widow speculated curiously as to arhether ha was coming out or going in, and Blushed a little blush that was ruddier than the cherry as she jumped to a truly feminine ponclusioa. As the policeman stopped he blurted out: •"It's a fine night." He said it in sepulchral t-c-acs, as one who jhad a long-considered, unpleasant duty to jperform and meant to do it, He wore the expression that has boarded ships, carried fortifications, and scattered blood in all sorts pf battle charges. The widow agreed, with a light, tripping tongue. She was no woman to be upset by the weather. It's a lonely life being a policeman," said JViggins. It's as lonely as being a widder." The widow blushed. I know how lonely ft ia being a widder," she said. Tell me, bow lonely is it being a policeman, and The policeman sat on the little stool for tired customers and leant on the counter. A little boy came in. A pennyworth of bull's-eyes," he asked, boldly, conscious of the power of money. It took time to serve the bull's-eyes. It put the constable off his difficult track. There was a distinct pause when the boy rushed out of the shop, supplied with the rticky treasure. Let me see," said Wiggins, H we were Salking about the weather? Mrs. Staples gave him time to see. "No," said the policeman, "we'd got past .he weather. We were talking about widders w* policemen. Ain't that so?" vYes," said the widow, promptly, "and— *—loneliness." "And 10nelineS8," said the constable, olemnly. "A policeman is nothing if he isn't onely. He daren't pat a kiddie on the head, because net day happen he'd be breaking rindowft.- He mustn't go to the village tavern jad have friends; next night he might have o lock '6m up for being too friendly. Every- body in the world might have to be dealt with ty a policeman, so a policeman must have no rienaa. Only friend I ever had was a man rho never did nobody any harm, was tee- otal, kept to his house, and had no business. Lnd he had a dog." Well, and what's the dog got to do with U "'asked the widow. II Everything. It come between me an' him.
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"SUMMER AT LAST."—When the weather is t, what is more delightful than a cooling and freshing drink? There is nothing so cooling, ing. and invigorating as a freshly-made of "Horniman's Pure Tea." Sold in:— wyn Bay, by Hughes, Central Stores; Prioe, ,ker, Abergele-road; Colwyn Bay and District -operative Socicky; The Co-operative Society, mdudno; J, Chemist, Llandudno Juno- n; Roberts, chemist, Llandudno; Higglnrs, ocer. Prestatyn; New York Co-operative So- ty, Penmaanmawr; Griffiths, Grocer, Li&nfair- foan; Price and Sona, Grooers; and Williams, emist, Old Colwyn; and H. Rogers Jcmes, aaniat, Dqgaoyrj.
.4o " -, ■* .. f"&/I
.4o ■* f "&/I A SMART AND PRACTICAL COSTUME FOR A SCHOOLGIRL. The advent of September reminds ua very forcibly that the holidays will soon be a tihing of the past, and that it is quite time to make mcdistio preparations for the coming autumn term. With. the special needs of the sohooJlginl SMART AND PRACTICAL COSTUME OF BLUE SERGE FOR A SCHOOLGIRL. in my mind I suggested that our artist should give us thos week a skctch of a smart but prac- tical little walking ocntume suitable for thurd every day school wear. I ttikik YOU will agree with me that the costume she has designed is just the thing for the purpose, and that it is both pretty and useful. The material used for its realisation is a fairly heavy blue serge, a. little ligthter arce rather brighter in colour than tihe genuine navy shade, and of excellent wear- ing qualities)- The modish little coat is cut in rather an original style with two deep straps over each. ruilnin., from shoulder to hem both back and front. These stra, are caught at the waist by short-pointed tabs oom- irug from the material on either side of the straps and fastened together by large buttons; the offocit produced being slightly suggestive of the Norfolk coat, a meat popular style this autumll..From the nook turns back a neat little round collar of blue ve-lvet edged with a strapping of the serge, the cuffs on the simple full-length coat sleeves being similarly treated. jThe skirt is a well-cut, gored affair with an inverted pleat at the back, each seam being outlined on either sid'e by a line of machine- stitching. ABOUT THE NEW MILLINERY. Already one begins to see felt and velvet hats, not only in milliners' windows but actu- ally warn, their appearance being nearly a month earlier than ever before in my recollec- tion, a fact no doubt due to the continued damp and cold of the weather. Unmistakably, the favourite shape for early autumn wear will be a long popular "clocho" or mushroom, car- ried out either in beautifully soft, fine felt, or velvet. The newest ntxleis have the wide, drooping brim, slightly bent in front, tihe orown being just a trifle crushed iin above the little dip. As for trimming, all the best examples show a commendable bent towards simplicity of style, a twist of velvet ribbon round the crown, with a couple of beautifully shadled wings, or a huge pad' of soft, downy breast fathers on one aide-, representing the (smart- est and most popular adornment for the cloche of felt. In some oases, more especially on more dressy 'hats, the velvet is supplemented by swaithings and puffings of tulle, and the wirugg are replaced by entire birds, wonderful creations of the manufacturers' art, which are made up from the feathers of half-a-dozen different birds. CONCERNING TWEEDS. At this season tweeds are among the most interesting of materials, and this year they are particularly pretty and becoming. Dull green tweeds are greatly in vogue both for masculine and' feminine wear, and when simply made look exceedingly well. Grey mixtures are also popu- lar, but to be correct they must be blended with brown, producing a dull brownish-grey effect. Real brown tweeds, curiously enough, are conspicuous by their absence, the only ex- ception being what is known as "beech-leaf" brown, a part'-cu'larly light warm golden shade. Harmonious combinations of grey and purple are greatly in demand, and are wonderfully effective; the best models being finished with few but distinctive touches of plain purple cloth. A SMART AND USEFUL COAT FOR TRAVELLING OR AUTUMN WEAR The fact that autumn is almost at hand begins to be very apparent in the number of long coats land thick wraps which one sees on every side. The smart, but not very warm, coats of thick Shantung, which have this summer been the pride and joy of motorist and traveller alike, have already given place to thick sensible tweeds and cloths, while the alpaca coat seems to have completely vanished from the modistic world. With regard to the most popular material for these long autumn coata, rough tweeds and friezes easily hold the first place. Of course, I am now speaking of the plain, rough tra- velling, walking, or motoring coat., not of the smart, dressy affair which is almost invariably carried out in fine, smooth cloth elaborately braided with soutache of a contrasting shade. But to return to the tweeds, which, I think, are even more popular than the Irish friezes. Mix- tures of grey and green, purple, brown and grey, and blue and brown are much approved this year, the blending of the various colours being so skil- fully managed as to produce the effect of a soft ahet, indescribable tint. Some of these tweeds are patterned with a bold stripe or check either in a dark shade of the predominating colour in the mixture or in some prettily contrasting tint; others are quite plain, but, I think, the former, are distinctly the smarter. As for the most suitable shape for these comfortable coats, there are so many excellent Examples this autumn that it is impossible to select any particular one as the best. The coat pictured in our sketch is a very favourite model, wl'ich i have seen carried cut in tweed, frieze, and even blanket cloth, and in each case with marked success. Down the front from shoulder to hem runs a plastron of the material, machined on either edge, and furnished with large leather buttons, which, of course, constitute the fastening of the garment. On either side of this front piece come two wide tucks firmly machined at the edge and arranged in such a fashion as to come to the top of the sleeve on the shoulder. The coat itself is cut with a fair amount of width, and is held in to the figure at the waist by a belt of the material, stiffened and machined to give it body. This belt passes undarneath the tucks but over the shaped front rather a new idea. The back of the coat is treated in the same fashion as the front, the long lines of the tucks being exceedingly becoming. From the neck turn back revers of the material and a oollar of velvet with a strapped edge of the tweed. The sleeves are of the plain coat variety, and are finished at the wrist with neat stitched straps ornamented with a large leather button.
A CHARMING BLOUSE.
A CHARMING BLOUSE. A really charming blouse of ivory Jap silk of a new and most becoming shape is the one I will endeaivour to !Q At the neck domes a shaped square-cuit yoke of tucked silik out with a deeper and narrower square at the bottorru This yoke is edged with a narrow barnd of the eilk embroidered with large raised spots. O ver the edges of tihe yoke from angle to angle are Laid1 bands of fine imitation Irish crochet, veiling in pretty fashion the silk beneath- FrOim the angles of the yoke on either side come broad box-pleats of the silk, each adorn- ed with large embroidered buttons. The sleeves are full, finished .vith cuffs of the laoo. A NEW BLUE. A new colour has dawned upon the modistic horizon and promises to be one of the colours of the coming autumn. This shade is of exactly the same tone as the loose blouses worn by French workmen, and from this association has been dubbed "ouvrier" blue. Sligihtiy greyish in tone, this blue is extremely becoming to blonde and brunette alike, and will in the near futuro bo much worn in the shape of gowns and costumes of thick shantung. Later on we shall proba,bly see a good deal of this oolour in various woollen materials, more especially in rough frieze and fine, smooth cloth. THE POPULARITY OF DARK COATS. The unprecendented weather of this summer has undoubtedly been the reason for the ex- traordinary popularity of the long coats which have been so much worn over frocks of every description, but more especially over those of a lingerie type. Erven with the approach of autumn this vogue shows no signs of diminution, indeed, predictions are not wanting that as the days become chillier the long coat will be more than ever in evidence^- Most of tho new modflis intended for autumn wear are realised in smooth but rather heavier cloth of some pretty, dark shado. Navy blue, is perhaps, first favourite in this connection, but it promises to be rivalled by a Jovely and most becoming shade of bottle green. This colour, braided with narrow, tfhick, black silk braid is indescribably smart, and is being much exploited just now by many of the best-dreesed women of both London and Paris. Various shades of brown a.re also in demand for these coats, the prettiest being a dull, soft colour called "blotting-pa.per brown" and a most beautiful silvery greyish brown known as "sycamore." In the more vivid tones "rambler red" is exceedingly popular, and very bright and gay it looks; unfortunately its wear requires discretion as it tones happily with but few other colours. AN AUTUMN FROCK. It is Light time to be thinking about autumn attire. With this in my mind I suggested to our artist that she should give us this week a sketch of a simple, smart, and very up-to-date oostumo suitable either for immediate wear or to carry us right through the autumn and early winter. I think you will agree with me that she has succeeded admirably. The material in which the costume was intended to be realised is a firm blue serge just a shade lighter than the real navy. The bolero which forms the upper part of the costume is arranged with three deep tucks coming well over the shoulders and narrowing towards the waist, the same arrange- ment being continued in the back. Down the front comes a double row cf smart little buttons which protend to close the bolero, the real fastening consisting of strong hooks and eyes. SMART COSTUMIE OF BLUE SERGE FOR EARLY AUTUMN WEAR. EARLY A UTUM:N WEAR. I The sleeves are slightly full at the shoulder and J of wrist length, the fulness being taken into three tucks above the wrist. where they are finished off with a narrow stitched strap. A pretty embroidered collar of white lawn covers the email under collar of blue velvet, and is, of course, removable for washing purposes. The skirt is of a new and very smart shape, being made with a succession, of box-pleate arranged at equidistant intervals all round. These pleats are firmly machined down for about a third of their length and are then released to allow of fulness at the bottom. Seven and a half yards of 44-inch material will be required for this design. ———g—^■———
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Aooordin.g to am appeal decided at Warmin- ster Sessions, golf liimiks may now be assessed' for raiting purposes, not at the rental value. but at a far higther rate as "oammeiroial concerns." Queen Viotoria of Spain ihiad a narrow escape wihnie motoring firom San Sebastian to Bilbao by an ox plaoamg itself in the way of tha Roy al oar.
ROADSIDE ROMANCES.
Come between us one day without a muzzle when the Act was in force. Had to summon my friend, and, well—friendship didn't stand that. He never spoke to me again, added a second dog in my place, and sat about his garden playin' with 'em both, instead of hav- ing only one and talking to me—see ? The widow said she saw, and sighed as she said it. Ain't that loneliness?" asked the police man, persistently. "Every man's^ hand's against a policeman, and some women's, too. But my hand ain't against no policeman," the widow suggested. The policeman breathed hard. That," he said, with great effort, that is because you're a real woman and a widder. A widder who is a real woman has got a friendly heart and knows the meaning1 of loneliness, don't she? She does," said the widow. And that'a what I sez," Wiggins went on, speaking like a man in a trance. Give me a widder that has a heart, she'll know what it's like being lonely. And two lonely people make a happy company because they know each other's feelings. That's what I say." "Yes?" said Widow Staples, interroga' tively. Yes, that's what I say it is. And, what's more, that's why wridders and policemen al- ways'get on together, why policemen make good husbands and widders good wives." "Lor, Mr. Wiggins exclaimed the widow. "rm sure 1 couldn't get on with any man after Staples—even a polIoeman." The constable looked seriously at her. Now. couldn't you get on with a police- man? he asked. Which policeman? she asked. "Me!" he said, oblivious of the nicer shades of grammar. The widow examined the folds of her apron. But the widow was a woman. The widow had been a livery-stableman's wife. The widow had a snug little shop. And the widow knew that the policeman's lot is not a happy one. Wiggins," she said—she almost said it tenderly. t Mrs. Staples? "he queried, in a husky whisper. Wiggins," she began again, and a smile lurked round her comely mouth., Wiggina, if there was one policeman I could get on with it would be you. But I'm single now, and, Staples being dead, very happy, and I don't think I should be any happier with a policeman. Now-if you was a sergeant-It "Yes—if," suggested P.C. Wiggins.^ "Well, now, if you was a sergeant"—the widow scraped some cheese crumbs reflec- tively from the counter-" then if you was, I might be happier." Would you try-if I was a sergeant? he psked, thickly. „ i "I would," she answered promptly; but come in and have a cup of tea." Beguiled into the widow's kitchen, where a brass kettle sang on the hob and a cat of the Thomas variety purred on the hearth, the constable spent a happy evening, and it was the first of many. But the widow obviously meant to marry a sergeant, and P.C. Wiggins had to face that interesting fact. Now P.C. Wiggins was forty, and he had been a constable for twenty years, and pro- motion had passed him by. And the chances of being made a sergeant were not rosier than they had been any time in those twenty years. But he determined to wait and be- come a sergeant before asking the widow again. Time wore on, and he took tea weekly in the kitchen, but he never asked; and the ■yidow, who was a woman, grew from wanting \Q marry s-sioigeent to wishing ConBtabla *v I:) Wiggins was one. She even began to think that a constable had unexpected virtues, and had he asked again he might have had a more favourable answer. But the constable waited and hoped, but did not ask again. Despair seemed to fill the constable's hori- zon when a peculiar combination of circum- stances seemed at length to give him at least an opportunity. Of all places in the world, a burglar selected Wedgerton as a profitable ground for his profession. And, what is more, Wedgerton did seem to be a profitable ground. He broke into the squire's mansion, on the hill-top; he took the rector's more modest dwelling near the church; he in- spected the interior of the leading doctor's house-all with excellent results fh the form of plate and jewels. Finally, he came down to the smaller fry, and levied a toll on the vil- lage publican's till and on the takings of the grocer and the butcher. No amateur cracks- man this, but a determined fellow of capable craftsmanship, who seemed to levy toll on the village about once a week. Naturally, therfc was an outcry, and something like a panic. The magistrate, who was also the squire, said rude things about the inefficiency of the police from the bench. His humbler neigh- bours said the same kind of things more pun- gently in the streets. Even the rector, gentle man as he was, preached and used for his text, Watch and pray." But still the burg- laries went on, and still the panic grew-still the police chased false scents, and failed on impalpable clues. On the Saturday, when the burglary scars was at its height, P.C. Wiggins paid his usual visit to the widow's house. The constable was in a doleful mood. Here is a chance of a lifetime," he kept saying. If only I could find the varmints and trap them it would be a feather in my cap, and possibly a bar on my sleeve." "A bar on your sleeve?" echoed the widow, fondly. Yes—the sergeant's stripe," he said, meaningly. I sometimes wonder if you'll ever get that step," the Widow Staples whispered in a small voice. I must get it," said the constable, gloomily-" I must get it, if I am to get you." The widow sighed and subsided. She let him out of the shop soon after nine—for his duty. "Must be prompt," he said, bravely, as he rose hurriedly. If there is a burglar to be caught, I should like to catch him." "I wish I could catch him for you," she said. Makes timid, lonely women afraid of going to bed. He will be having my little till next." Well, he won't have it this week, any way, for I'm on duty, and he couldn't do any- thing in the centre of the town without me seeing him." The policeman strolled down the street. The widow, sighing disconsolately, sat and thought of stripes and steps, of policemen and sergeants. She even saw Wiggins an in- spector, in a braided coat, in one of her gor- ?;eous dreams; then realising the futility of he prospect she locked up carefully and went to her chamber. It was about two when the good widow awoke. Why, she did not know; but she had a confused idea that some noise had aroused her. She listened with geese walking quietly over her grave all the time. No noise, of course. Nothing to alarm—merely fancy!- dreams of burglar and burglaries after her talk with Wiggins." And then-" What's that?" A faint noise—a faint, careful noise in the silence of the night—a faint, carefLY- -A ..8. persistent inoioe corning from t!he street. It was a noise as of steel rubbed on steel or iron -a regular, file-like, rasping, careful scraping of metal on metal. The widow got out of bed and walked softly to the window. Silently she opened the case- ment. The filing stopped a moment. The widow dared not breathe. No sound of foot- steps could be heard. He had evidently not gone, she thought. As if in answer, the even scraping of metal on metal began again. Very quietly the widow peeped over the sill, and on the pavement saw the figure of a man lying full length, and filing away at the chain that held the grating down over the aperture which gave light to the cellar window. The widow did not scream, did not faint, did not hasten back and huddle into the bedclothes. She thought of Wiggins, and wondered what the wife of a Wiggins would do. Then she put on a heavy coat and skirt, crept into the shop, seized her cash box, and felt for the strong bolts which barred the cellar's trap door. They were in place and secure. She hastened quietly back to her bed- room and listened. Steadily the quiet, even, rasping noise went on perhaps for five or ten minutes, and the widow waited and watched. After a silence that seemed like eternity, there was a snap, and a chain rattled to the ground. Peering carefully down the street, the man pulled up the iron grating and disappeared down the cellar opening. He cut the glass window with a diamond, slid the catch back, and was within the cellar. The widow crept downstairs with a huge toilet jug of water in her hands, hoping against hope that Wiggins would be near. As she passed something gleamed on her table. She grasped it in her hands. It was a police whistle which the constable had left behind him in his hurried exit. Like a cat she crept across the shop, slid back the bolts, and was out in the street; but the last bolt had creaked ominously, and as she reached the pavement the noise evi- dently struck the visitor within. She heard him moving, and the window swung on its hinges. As she cowered against the wall a dark* head appeared through the window of the cellar opening. Quietly the woman raised the water jug and poured its contents over the head. It was withdrawn so hastily that the burglar cracked his skull against the upper beam of the window opening, bringing his head and shoulders out of the window again in the momentary agony. As quick as lightning the widow dropped the water jug on the head, and it cracked into a dozen pieces over the already ill-used skull. Then, quite as promptly, she slung the heavy grat- ing back again and stood on it, blowing one long, loud call on the whistle she held in her hand. A minute passed by, a dreadful minute with not a sound. The man in the cellar seemed to have been surprised into helpless- ness. And still the street was dark and silent. As the widow strained her ears for footsteps he stirred. You she-devil! he whispered, grasping the bars and shaking them. You she-devil, you let me out at once, or it will be worse for you." It will be worse for me if I do," she said, shrilly. You let me out, d'ye hear, or I'll pay you! he growled, shaking the grating. "You've not bought anything you need to pay for, except the water jug." She stood firmly on the grating. Round the quiet street corner a haety footstep sounded. Yes- e -th m is no doubt about it— that's Wiggins," she said to herself, and felt nearer to fainting than^ &he had done. i^et me out", you old^cat!" the man shouted, swearing horribly. The faintness passed away. Old cat! she said. Well, you can come out in one second or two more. When the cat's away the mice will play. But the cat is not away in this case, and it's an old one-so there will be no play for you." What's the trouble? The voice belonged to Wiggins, and a surprised voice it was. Wiggins, in the heavy garb of night duty, stood before the window, and a very comfort- ing and imposing figure he looked. She pulled him towards her to the grate and threw her arms round his neck. The astonish- ing warmth of her kiss added another surprise to the policeman's experience. "Wiggins," she said, excitedly, "I never knew what a comfort fourteen stone of man could be about a house. Staples, who was brought up to the livery, was light to the last, on account of his riding. But what you want is the burglar, isn't it? "My oath, it is," said Wiggins. "Then," said the widow, there you are —and she pointed to the grating. Oh oh my beauty the policeman said, drawing his truncheon as he looked at the burglar. Come out of it! He lifted the grating. Come out! he eaid, and come out quiet and slow, so as I can take hold of you affectionately." Oh you be hanged growled the voice in the cellar. Yes, and if you don't come easy, my boy, I'll drop this little boy on your headpiece, and you won't feel very gay." The burglar crawled out, and the policeman gripped him as he came up. The captor tried one jerk, as if he thought of making a fight of it. P.C. Wiggins swung his arm nearly out of its socket, back-heeled his man, spread him out and sat on him. Had enough? he asked. Quite said the burglar. D—don't sit there all night." What a comfort it is," Mrs. Staples mur- mured to herself; how restful to have four- teen stone of man about when there's a burg- lar. If you don't mind, I'll go indoors," she added, addressing Wiggins-" it's chilly." The incident ended. That ought to get me the stripe," P.C. Wiggins said, when he called next day. Don't matter so much about a stripe," she said. I'd feel safe with a policeman in the house." But he did get the stripe. Whether for his twenty years' service, or for his arrest of the Wedgerton burglar, only the Chief who sits in the county town knows. And the relict of Staples, liveryman, deceased, blooms, hap- pier than many a younger bride, at the station house, and is proud in the constant building of an elusive dream of an inspector- phip for Sergeant Wiggins, late P.C. 64.