Adds looked about tin* cla&i room. She was a cow pupil, aud wak derlng which of.the many would p^ove

the Interesting girls.

*ople o

serious -and

the degree

estlng. At least, this was her way of putting It. Not-even to herself would She have acknowledged that they were interesting acrofdlng as they wer fine—fine In the sense of fashion and of show. For Anne secretly

longed to be fine.

. Matllde was fine. She attracted Anne. She wore charming cjothes. and she wore them with an air. Perhaps Anne envied her the air more than the^elothcs. And Matllde made Incidental mention of appointments with

; - the dressmaker.

Anne soon learned about Matllde. She and her father and her older sis tor came down fropi their sugar plantation for the winters, that Matllde ' might attend school and that her sister might attend society. Every girl In school had something to tell about . the sister. She was a belle, and her goings and her comings were ever In

the newspapers.

Anne came down from an adjoining parish, too. for school, going home every Friday to Stay until Monday. Only an unusual price for the cotton crop had made possible tor her this year at the Gray college preparatory school. When the year ended—well, there were two scholarships open to the pupils of the school, and Anne was ambitious. j3hc was also a stu-

dent and a worker.

But Just now her ambition centred on things social. She had made up her mind that Matllde would be a charming friend. But besides being a leader In her set. Matllde haps, a mocker at things

i earnest.

On first meeting Anne she had given her a preoccupied smilk She evidently had many and large interests outside of those of school. Her cocveraa- . tlon chiefly concerned a dancing club and a schoolgirl box party for a mati-

nee.

Presently conversation turned upon tbc coming recitation of mathematics. Matilda gave a dramatic shrug. “I haven't a problem solved." she de dared. "oNt that I mind algebra. I haven't had time! However.". Matil da's laugh was provoklngly charming, “there's nothing like establishing early j the reputation you mean to-sustain." Anne, on the outskirts of the group, felt nettled. Matllde reemed to make light of worth and work and achievement. "Really?” Anne said. “I can't Imagine any one willingly taking an infe- • nor place in anything—” Matllde flushed. It was perhaps a new point of view to her. She turned | and looked at this newcomer. Anne bore the scrutiny ^ell; she was pretty. The two girls happened to be near each other when they were going In j. flora recess. "I hare the problems | solved hc^e If you care to'look at them," said Anne. “It's a mere detail j to • work them out. any way. when | you're got the principle.” “Why. thank you—I should like to," , -aaid MatiUe. "I really meant to do 1 them, but Vent to a dance, and—well ' —Just didn't*” Matllde, flushed and j grateful, was more charming than | ■ ever. She was clever, too. She studied the pap«r up the stairs and Into the j' schoolroom and through the roll call. When her time came, she rose with a j. smiling readiness and made a clever J recitation of her gleanings. Going • ont at dismissal, she slipped an arm [ through Anne's. The next day she asked Anne to ; drive with her In her father's car- ! rlage. She also asked and received ; permission to take Anne home to dine. Matllde's sister apeared in a bewildering gown of trailing gauslnesa. With a preoccupied goodby. she bade them be "good "children." and left in ! the carriage for some more festive dining elsewhere. Matllde's father^waa silent and dark. J aci hardly / gi*nced at his daughter's. | guest. Afterward-Anna fold Matllde ; that be looked sad: "gad.” the girl replied. "Who? Uj'Father? lo Anne, how absurd.” 2 It was a servants' meal. Just as It was a servants' bouse. There was profusion, buf there wefe also laxity and carelessness. But to Anne it was «ly fine—the glitter, the show, the Afterward Anne gased at the books | In the library, although the was used L books. Then, as If reminded, she r arked: “Our themes for tomorrow— ! ' hare you written yours?" MatlWe made a little' mouth. [ ‘'Haven't thought of it i hate work. Ill scribble off something In study hour tomorrow." and her shrug indicated that deeper cencerc oyer such a r atter was sot worth while. MaUMe's estimate of these things of such moment to Anne, her aasump«oa that carriages at beck and roll. EM

ray ai an thee

"And yofl are cot like most of the smart onus. Acne; generally tney'rt so goody and prissy!" "Matllde I.evervaux has taken Anne Norwich up," was the school comment Lcfore long, but none except ^nne knew It was because she was mrfking school life easy for Matllde. When the school year was half over Miss Henry said to the class In English one day, "I wish a special theme this week upon original' lines. Lector Gray desires to note class progress as compared with earlier work of the year." Anne worked early and late on her tin me. She spent a night with Matiloe. delving , into volumes for exttrpts and quolajlons. She meant to win by her theme the notice of Doctor Gray. Matllde produced her sentiments. They were sparse and abbreviated. Her head was filled with thoughts of the coming dance on Friday. "Do help me, Anne!" she begged. Anne laughed, and taking Matllde's cissy, said It was merely •'notes." She placed the pages'(n her book, premia mg to put them into shspe. But being Incapable of s.urrlng anything. :.n<Vhot averse to impressing Matllde. she threw herself Into her friend's point of view, and wrote the essay. It was bright, it was clever, it was humorous. Anne .was proud of the work, but she was prouder of that which she did for herself. ft showed more

study.

"Pick out some quotations for It when you copy It." she begged Matllde. who embraced Anne and promised.

But the dance Intervened. A -month later -Doctor ( pounced to the school that

themes the faculty had based their choice for the Groly scholarship In

English.

The assembled class gave breathless attention: the announcement came as a surprise. Anne flushed, and was conscious that more than oae girl glanced her way. ^boctor Gray continued: "And in making the choice known, 1 would say that It Is not only on the merits of the actual theme, in hand, which U marked by clearness, simplicity and a rarer quality—humor—but because of her fine showing In English as compared with-earlier work of the year that the si holarshlp Is awarded to Miss Ma tilde Levereaux. A close second, but lacking the ilmplicity and humor of Mis Levereaux'a Work. stands the work of Miss Anne Norwich.” 1

for a cotton crop. Home meant younger sisters and brother*, and a sacrifice by all to give Anne her year at school. Home meant mother, never strong, today lying on her couch, her hand at this moment on Anne's head, which was buried against the sofa while Anne sobbed. "But It's mine, mamma, don't you 6e«v—K's mine, for my work won the ‘sc—I know--you think I did wrong-nuid all that—but that's not the point; It wasn't Cor morals or deportment—It was for English—and it's mine—I earned It—” Earned It. Anne?" There was pain In the tone of questioning. But Anne did not notice it “For the creuit of the scholarship, Matllde owes It to Doctor Gray to tell—If for nothing else. I owe It to him—If she doesn’t speak, mother—" 'Why. you, dear, will not Don't you sec? be honest to yourself, my child. Your punishment is silence. In confession now, Anne, lies only_self-

Interest"

Matllde had laughed hysterically, uncontrollably. She had .seized Anne efjar school. In the cloak room, and cob Id only speak In snatches for laugh tor. "ira—the funniest—eiluaUon I ever dreamed of. Anne. If only we ild tell It—toe Joke—to the others! I—the dgapalf of the faculty—I—I want it It's honors thrust upon 111 be baying me a cap and gown some day, Anne." There was no comprehension of the lierness to Anne. But then Anne had to remember that she had made light of these very things with Matilde. How. then, could Matllde know? As for the falseness of the situation, that, to Matllde,. WAS Dlalnlr the funniest thing of all. -v . But by Monday Matllde lihd rhang»d She looked across the schoolroom several times wistfully toward Anne. - At ecess ate drew her aside, and told her that Doctor Gray had met her father on Friday, and had informed Mm about the scholarship. before Mat”de reached home. "And—and-.you won't believe what meant to father, Anne!" Matllde's eyes left Anae's la embarissment; she was one to hide emo deeper feelings.

i who Were scything at

so pray are gaod i« Bag I M«er d« tie M dowa tat

o fisl dowa lr. the

-

forehead—tafee. Papa—think of !t!~ Was Maltide pretending to laugh hrotafh taaifl?: "He—he said be bad beta bout m: it had tew his uahappi

rrictiv. . .

od person to whutev

joke?” and Matllde turned away her

head.

Later that day Matllde spoke again. "Really, there's a test in the getting. Isn't there. Anne? I've actually

worked every problem.”

"There's nothing like it," said Anne. It was Joy to be honest, and not to laugh falsely at things one

loved and believed In.

Bon Matllde's work took the aplritrsonallty that the girl gave latever she did. She forged to the front speedily in mathematics. She said her father was helping her. Anne went home with her now and

thou, o n a .Friday night

"Comrades—In accord." said Matllde's father, with a smile at both girls, at the three opened books around the lamp. He said It In French; the three had agreed to talk lb French to help

Anno with her accent

And Matllde went home on a Friday now and then, with Anne. Anne did not even ask that the silver service of a former generation's grandeur be brought forth. The simplicity of the family's acceptance of a reduce mode of living was beginning to reveal its

dignity to Anne.

Matllde would drop on a cushion by the couch. “There's a charming 1-ink in your cheek tonight. Madame Mere," she would say. as if Anne's mother were, a girl like herself, "and your hair—your lovely hair—Let me take It down and arrange It the new

vay.”

The mother liked It; she liked Matilde to come—she said to. And yet, trample the thought as she would, Anne remembered. Had mother forgotten? Matllde had never told. But Matude was learning some things. The Norwich plantation was isolated, and the children could not ettend the dally schook, "Mother's teaching us this winter so Anne can go to town to school." little Dorris had explained.^ Most generally we have a governess:'' And Matllde was to be proved. There came a day at school when, as she and Anne were passing tnrbugh the hall. Doctor Gray called her Into his office. "And Anne?" asked Matiide. "And Anne." said hfe. smiling. The two girls entered. The doctor looked at Matllde his glasses. The smile was earnest.

RECREATIONS OF PRESIDENTS.

"It Is to speak a word of commendation 1 called you In. It is about your work this year. You have earned "more than the Groly scholarship; you earning the respect and admiration of the faculty.” Matllde held Anne's arm tight as they went out. It was a grip that hurt. She had forgotten even Anne, and was looking Inward. She drew a breath suddenly. " 'Earned,' h« said, Anne— 'earned!'" And Anne knew, all at once, that Matllde saw. "Oh. no, don't!" said Anne, for Ma-. tilde had turned back to the office. ‘ That Is, not—not for me; I couldn't bear It, Matllde." "But—but your father—” "O!” said Matljde. But she went And Anne went, too. a Matllde Incriminated only herself. * “My theme wsa not original work. I took the scholarship from Anne, whom you ranked second. Then Anne spoke. She drew Matilda's hand away from her Ups in Its endeavor to stop her. “I proposed It to her; she never realised anything but the Joke. Then—” "Who wrote the theme?" asked the

doctor.

Neither girl spoke, Anne fearing

aerlt, Incr

i criminate

because to speak would

Anne.

"You know," said the doctor to Anne., “you. in this case, stand next for the scholarship.” There was a flash Illuminating Anne'A Inner vision. "Oh, no; I—1— the one. A—a scholarship Includes hopesty. I—I forfeited It, Doctor Gray.-' But Matilda's part was harder. "I have to tell papa! 0 Anne, Anne, how can I?” Later there w*s an announcement In the chapel. Miss Matllde Levcreaux and Miss Anne Norwich were declared Ineligible lor Ce Groly scholarship on their own declaration. Miss Ellen Ward stood next In order of merit But down stairs Anne and Matllde made the story ck j. That the girls made heroines of them forthwith was liewildering but soothing. There had been enough YS sting. "Help me to study, Anne, to make every minute count!'' begged Matllde. "I've got to make it up to papa—to show him. There's the Otis scholarship In mathematics In June. Do you think, Anne, 1 could?" Anne winced. She bad remembered fat. too. Then she kissed Matllde. r"? help yon every way I know,*' she

«aid.

June brought 1U own surprises. Matllde Levcreaux had won the Otis

Matllde herself told her father this time. She uied a little as she did so. but hU srm about her made her sure

iraahla*ton, Jofferaon, Jackaoa and XooMralt Good Horeaman. While Mr. Roosevelt Is doubtles the nost of an all-round athlete who has jver occupied the Presidents chair he uy no means stands alone as a lover of jut door life. If our first President.

Jie Immori •weakness

ine horseflesh, a propensity common, it might be said, among Virginia gentlemen In his day. As a boy he liked jothlng better than the breaking of in unruly colt. It Is said that he once •ode 10 different horses Into AlexanJrla In a single week. During his lat•r years his stables at Mt Vernon were the best In tycoon try. He visited his borses the wfc’ thing upon rising In. the morning, and always saw that they lad their breakfast before he had bis

every a: weather

jwn. He always had a fine pack of lounds, too. and was quite as fond of ndhtlng as his present successor at the mpltal. Foxes and s^ogs were the Unary game in Virginia in those days, md in pursuit of those Washington

found his chief recreation. Thomas Jefferson was another

Virginian In respect to his love for One horses, of which he owned many. When he was President he made a practice of horseback riding almost

afternoon, no matter what the light be, and be kept up this

: us tom until within a few days of bis death. oJhn Quincy Adams' puritan ancestry and training did not prei him from entertaining a great fondness for horseraclrg, and it Is said that he used to walk out to the Holmatead race course, two miles from Washington. and back again, whenever t good Pierce was ag ood horseman, and always well mounted. Harrison and Taylor wered evoted to opea-air exercise, and both of them for years: almost lived In the saddle. The same might be said, with some modification, of

Tyler and Polk.

As for John Quincy Adams, his diary shows that he paid great attention to physical exercise. Much space Is occupied with his observations on this subject. Entries about bis riding horses and the benefits derived from riding and swimming are sandwiched between entries respecting experiments in gardening and horticulture In s manner which Indicates that he fully realized the benefits and enjoyments ss well as the neceoslty of out-door exer-

cise.

Andrew Jackson was ont only one of the best horsemen of his day. but be was an 'ardent lover of out-door sports. He was a daring ridsr to hounds, and was equally daring In his wagers on horse*. In whose speed be had confidence. Of Mr. Roosevelt’s three immediate predecessors. Harison. Cleve land and McKinley, It cannot be said that any one of them was much given to any out-door recreation, walking and occasional driving, and Mr. pleveland least of all.—Leslie's Weekly.

My plal stylish Is this shirt waist of linen Striped with green. The combination ie delightfully cool and one that will

B* Found tht Wtltr

"There Is no fool like an old fool except an educated one," said a New England philosopher. With him James 8. Porter of Ban Francisco is ready to agree. He came to tell the . the Hoffman House because some one else had told of a skilled assayer. whe came from the East to test a njjoe for silver, found no silver, and report" ed back unfavorable to his company. The company sold the mine for a song, and the rough, uneducated Individual who bough It made a million working

it for copper. “Once another

and I started a woolen mill in a town near the sea,” be said, “and being told that the river which flowed by the mill was so near the bay that It was salt we bought the big quantity of water needed In the factory from the town plant Our bill for the first month was enormous. 1 went to the watei board and obpjected. They Informed me that theyfead me ‘on the hip.' and wouldn't come down on their rates Going back to the mill, I looked sadly at the riveL Suddenly -a thought struck me. I got a bucket, dipped 11 Into the water, pulled It up and tasted It. It was fresh. I hunted up partner am) told him to kick me.

dfil."—New York Tribune.

my Ha

That Is Just what France needs. She cks a man. On that point the arlsn, the unwashed and the middle class are for one In unison. They al’

CS

hsvs takse it over me." Moulds sx- 1 bool*, -red whPlained, “and ah# wonM not try tor 1 ratnrnUy n tt it. She wanted ms to rate U tor yon. fit/ U s star

the limited liability company that

the state.

It Is the expression of thdt want W real Parisian gayety. In It. too. t* the hum of the bees. Whoever is able to recall both will have to come velopsd in gtamour, astride a prune Ing steed. The only one competent to execute any such feat of haute ecol* Ss Louis Napoleon—Napoleon V. The grandson of King Jerome; trained in the fine school of the Cau casus; living on terms of agreeablt yet not oppressive Intlnmcy with the czar; capable of getting a boost from Italy, from whose reigning house hU mother came, and Into whlch'hU sis ter has married; capable, too, of ■ boost from the kaiser, whose grand

uncle ont of his

■ashed Us t 1 who In <x

a lively I

» torayy sky o< i

r two yards fifty tote t

And I let her do k for me. paps-U- mg political . -ough they are not well oC" ' ' rising In Us

The prire for cotton was not so There is the pBmmqwL There U the

z z: - ot toe at. tal Mo - - - -

^**■'■* ““ "*■

Toott-. ro.oo.fce *T»u Melt aooo »oe on ft. ooe. tt. too 00*000 M too tnlaoMIe I'Tif* ft ftl^IJj in eT on** > !JftV*.ToT ft -*•.-—sr* ess-‘-=!y=:s

ring the 1 The foundation Is a glovefitted lining, which closes In the centre front This may be omitted and the waist adjusted with shoulder and unCerarm seams If preferred. It fits smoothly across the shoulders nnd Is drawn down close to the belt where there are small gathers. A smooth adjustment Is maintained under the arms. The waist closes la the centre front with small srystal buttons and buttonholes worked through a narrow space between two box pleats that are flatly stitched. There Is slight fullness at the neck, and the waist forms a decided blouse over the velvet belt A plain collar completes the neck, and fastens at the back. It is provided with embroidered protectors and a stock of heavy black satin. The regulation shirt sleeves are fitted close to the arm with Inside seams. They are finished with deep, straight cuffs, and a facing at the back, where the sleeve is slashed. Waists in this mode are made of

brought around the shoulders. 1 fur or chiffon, lace or velvet no matter what Its texture, and fastened upon the bust with a pin. The pin should be a large one. and there are handsome medallions that come for this purpose, and lovely miniature pins the size of a young butter dish. Little sable scarfs, uot as wide as three fingers, come to be thrown around the neck and pinned upon the chest.

Eton Jacket, cot with coat-tails In the back. Over the shoulders goes a wide collar of black cluny lace. This Is an extremely smart finish to the bodice and relieves It of the bald plainness which It would otherwise present to view. A little neckband is covered with white cloth, and shows a braided design In black, dark blue and silver. The Eton has pagoda sleeves, with undersleeves of white cloth gathered Into n narrow wristband, with design of the same embroidery. The skirt Is untrimmed. except with rows of machine stitching.

called striped chambrny gauze. It Js composed of alternate stripes of satin Liberty nnd sheerest gauze, the stripes being each an eighth tt an Inch In width. Over all this is printed a complicated Persian design, every pin-point of space entering Into the lovely scheme. Over white silk or a very delicate tint this gauzy fabric discovers unsuspected beauties and Is mysteriously fascinating. _ — A >‘ew teah Ribbon. Latest and loveliest in sash ribbons Is a very broad beauty in palest blue satin Liberty. The ground Is strewn with satin broefae dots In the self color. But all this is hardly noted because the whole Is strewn with warp-printed garlands of faded roses, with an occasional nosegay In the same soft dull pinks.

Womkn'* r

•r si>i*( Wftiit.

JAUNTY NOB FOLK JACKET.

heavy peau de sole, bengallne or* moire, to be worn with tailor made suits, and beautiful buttons are used for the centre closing. It Is also an appropriate mode for'wash fabrics, as it will launder easily. To make the waist In the medium size will require two yards of thirtysix Inch material. VorColk jTaekst WlUi Applied Plastt. Norfolk Jackets possess certain Inherent advantages, and are always smart and Jaunty. The admirable May Menton model shown In the large drawing la adapted alike to the Jacket salt and the general wrap, and Is suitefi to all cloths, cheviots, tweeds, and the like; hut. In the original ia of tobacco brown frieze, stitched with corticem silk, and makes part of walking costume made with flounced skirt that net clears the ground. The back is snug fitting and Includes a centre seam that Is carved to the figure, the fronts are ‘fitted by single darts which are concealed under the applied pleats. The pleats are graduated In width, so producing tapering effect at the waist and are a plied over the JackA. The belt, whii merely sa ornamental feature, pass Oder those at the back and terminal ta pointed ends over those In front, and can be omitted when the Jacket is preferred plain. The yoke Is pointed and the finished with a regulation collar that tolls over with the fronts to form lapels: The sleeves, in cost style, have fearing pcintad cuffs that open nt the

"nek.

To e«t this Jacket for a .woman of Mdioat stos three and era half yards t BStmto) twenty toe has wide, two

and variety with each season as it comes. This novel design, with the deep pleats at the shoulders, is eminently smart, and well adapted to all the season's cotton and linen fabrics, as well as to wool and silk walstlngs. As shown It Is of white pique with embroidered dots and trimming of needlework, and Is made without the lining; but taffeta, moire velours, flannel and the like are more satisfactory when

the fitted lining Is used.

The foundation" Is smoothly fitted and extends to the fashionable waist line. The back proper Is plain across the shoulders, simply drawn down in gathers at the waist line; but the fronts are laid In deep pleats at the shoulders that are stitched near the edge for • short distance, then allowed to fall In soft folds, giving a broad tapering vest effect The lining doses at the centre front, but the waist to hooked over. Invisibly, beneath the Inner pleat at the left side- The sleeves are la

" “ and the

prafis two raw tote wtoAsswm yte —tof tote te to