THOSE LONG WINTER EVENINGS. 
should think you would die in the winter ! ” ex¬ 
claimed one of those city cousins who is “on the 
go ” (as she elegantly expressed it) from noon until 
midnight. “ Why, I would be so stupid at the end of 
a week that I would die, or go wild, I hardly know 
which. For pity’s sake ! what do you do with your¬ 
selves all the long winter evenings ? ” 
“Oh, when we are alone at home, we sew, knit, read 
or study, play games or have some music, and do num¬ 
berless other things,” I replied. “There seems no end 
to our resources. In fact, sometimes it seems as though 
we had more resources than long evenings. We plan 
to do so many things during the winter that some¬ 
times spring comes before we have accomplised one- 
half what we had hoped.” 
“ Why, how you talk ! ” replied my pretty cousin, 
shaking her head until I warned her that she might 
shake down the shining waves of hair which were 
coiled around her head more artistically than natur¬ 
ally, and which she had spent a good share of the 
afternoon in arranging. “ That all sounds very pleas¬ 
ant; but I know you must be horribly dull, just the 
same, especially when we have one of those awful 
snowstorms when you can neither go out or have callers 
come in.” 
I knew that it was useless to try to convince her that 
we were not dull, and only the fact that we were alive 
could prove that we did not die ; but I could not help 
comparing her superficial ideas of living with those of 
the average young people who live in the country, and 
I fear that she suffered (perhaps unjastly), for she had 
plainly no higher ideas of life than to be entertained. 
The words, “ My mind to me a kingdom is,” kept sing¬ 
ing through my head, and I said to myself “ that man 
must have lived on a farm and known something 
about long winter evenings.” lie could not have be¬ 
longed to that class of people who were as uneasy as 
“ fish out of water ” unless they are where there is 
“ something going on.” To some this is so necessary 
a state of being that it matters not much what it is if 
it only holds their attention and prevents them from 
boring themselves and boring other people. Fortu¬ 
nately these people are not confined to one locality, 
and we find some of them even in the country. Happy 
is a person whose mind is comprehensive enough to 
be interested in making rugs or crocheting compared 
with those who when alone can only yawn and wish 
the time away. Sir Philip Sidney spoke truly when 
he said, “ They are never alone who are accompanied 
by noble thoughts.” 
A person of resources does not wish to be everlast¬ 
ingly entertained ; all he asks is a little time and lib¬ 
erty, and he will entertain himself. To such the long 
winter evenings are a priceless boon, and in these 
days of Granges, endeavor and other societies, as well 
as private entertainments, long evenings are none too 
plenty, even in the country, and are prized by the 
student or busy housewife as the most satisfactory of 
all. It is so delightful when the cares of the day are 
over, to follow the Scriptural advice and “ take no 
thought for the morrow what ye shall eat or where¬ 
withal ye shall be clothed.” The storm may rage and 
the winds howl, but if the fire burn bright it matters 
not; they are all the more sure of hours of liberty for 
reading, music, study, sewing or whatever they most 
enjoy, and they may conscientiously enjoy it to the 
uttermost without a fear of dying of dullness for want 
of being entertained. Alice e. einney. 
WOMEN IN LIFE AND LITERATURE. 
F one would get a great deal for her money, let her 
buy one of the Christmas magazines. Those in¬ 
terested in Florentine art during the renaissance will 
find an admirable study of Luca della Robbia in 
Scribner’s December number. The Cosmopolitan of 
the same issue makes no especial bid for holiday 
favor, but completes its profusely illustrated and com¬ 
prehensive digest of the great Fair. 
One notices that the typ’cal Christmas story has al¬ 
most wholly disappeared. Possibly our writers find 
fuel for that sort of thing well nigh exhausted, and 
are fain to kindle their torches with other brightness 
than that of yule-logs and Christmas tree candles. 
At any rate, the magazines content themselves with 
a few Christmas poems, and for the rest set forth a 
feast of good things whose bountifulness and excel¬ 
lence alone suggests holiday fare. 
Our women writers must share equally with the 
masculine ones in the praise one cannot withhold 
when reading the short stories in the Christmas num¬ 
ber of Harper’s Magazine. People who enjoyed Ruth 
McEnery Stuart’s s^ory of “The Woman’s Exchange 
of Simpkinsville,” will delight to renew acquaintance 
with the same gentle folk in “Rud Zunts’s Mail.” 
Humor that makes us love and respect the characters 
who amuse us is rare; hardly has it ever been brought 
to greater perfection than in these delightful South¬ 
ern sketches. 
To the pleasure we have in old friends for what they 
are, there comes in time to be added a second enjoy¬ 
ment springing from our satisfaction in always find¬ 
ing them so exactly what we know them to be. A 
good deal of this superadded pleasure invests the 
stories in Christmas Harper by Sarah Orne Jewett 
and Charles Egbert Craddock (Miss Murfree), both well 
beloved friends to most of us. And what friendships 
are these ! the privilege all freely given and never a 
hint of our own stupidities and insufficiencies intrud¬ 
ing to mar the satisfaction. 
Miss Jewett’s story of “A Second Spring” taking its 
unhurried way amid quiet scenes reminds one of the 
winding footpath adown a country lane zigzagging 
from cne bar way to another, and finding a suitable 
ending at the last brace of bars merely because there 
is not space to wander farther. Having made so many 
successful excursions there Miss Murfree wisely keeps 
to her Tennessee mountain paths. As for the “Phan¬ 
toms of the Foot Bridge” it leads the reader the well 
remembered way up the bridge path to the lonely 
mountain cabin. A lovely young girl, a jealous lover 
and a polished man of the world furnish a combina- 
Patteun foe Chamois Purse. Fig. 4. 
tion rich in those possibilities which Miss Murfree 
knows so well how to utilize. A mistake furnishes 
the tragedy in this case, and we ease our pity with the 
reflection that it might have been infinitely worse. 
That the woman suffrage movement in England is 
steadily gaining ground is shown by the position taken 
by Balfour, Joseph Chamberlain and other prominent 
members of the Commons in the recent debate upm 
the parish councils bill amendment. This amendment 
clears up a doubtful point regarding the rights of 
married women to vote for county and local boards, 
and since it merely gives to married women the same 
rights that the single ones already hold, is a tacit 
acknowledgment by English law-makers that woman, 
though married, may still hold opinions of her own 
and think with sufficient independence of her hus¬ 
band’s predilections to be allowed a voice separate 
from his. The amendment is openly regarded by its 
friends and opponents as a preliminary to the grant¬ 
ing of parliamentary suffrage to women, and is to be 
followed by another that will include the wives of 
workingmen among the married women to whom this 
bill gives the franchise, the latter being now excluded 
by the property qualification required. American 
women who have not kept themselves informed upon 
these subjects may be surprised to learn that, except; 
in a few States of the Union, the Englishwoman 
already possesses franchise privileges mucn great r 
than those of her American sister prudexce primros 
PATTERN FOR CHAMOIS PURSE. 
PRACTICAL remembrance is a pocket-book con¬ 
taining a bright penny “ for luck.” The purse 
is of chamois, lined with a double thickness of crino¬ 
line and faced with gold-brown satin. The illustr - 
tion plainly shows the cut of the pattern. The d - 
mensions are 23^x5 inches. There are no spams 
The pattern requires a piece of chamois 10 inches at 
the widest point, with an extreme length of 7)^ 
inches. The folded ends of the purse are an exact 
semi circle described with a radius of inches. The 
crinoline lining allows the folds to be readily made, 
as indicated by the dotted lines in the drawing. Two 
pasteboard partitions, covered with brown satin, are 
neatly glued in, thus dividing the pocket-book into 
three compartments. The sole decoration is a mono¬ 
gram worked in brown silk, and the bow of narrow 
ribbon which serves as the clasp. axna hixrichs. 
BABY SUNBEAMS OF THE SUNRISE 
KINGDOM. 
MONG the most delightful articles cn delightful 
Japan that have ever been given the world are 
the recent series of Mae St. John Bramhall in Har¬ 
per’s Bazar, entitled : “ The Wee Ones of Japan.” Our 
space permits but a bit from their beginnings; a 
sample which we feel sure will tempt all who taste to 
resolve to enjoy the whole joyous and zealous series. 
“ After weeks and months of almost constant study 
of them, I—that is, the scribe of the zealots now 
speaking—can but regard these youngsters of Nippon 
as the most amusingly uncommon children in the 
world, so far as I know it. Also do I regard them— 
with apologies to my little American friends—as the 
very best disciplined darlings to be found upon the 
ample bosom of Mother Earth. 
“It is true, as is frequently objected, that the skin 
of the diminutive Nipponite is hardly as fine and never 
so fair as that of our own housed-up pink and white 
babies. Equally true is it that the hair of the cafe au 
lait elves is black and uncompromisingly straight. 
The constant sight of this black hair sometimes sets 
one sighing for the rings of twisted sunbeams com¬ 
posing so many American tresses. Still, the young 
Jap possesses charms as potent. There is the health¬ 
ful, glowing, crocus tint diffused over a low, well- 
moulded brow, over a tiny nose, often impertinently 
retrousse, and over a dimple-cleft chin. Add to these 
round ripe cheeks that retain far into the teens the 
crimson gloss of tke lusty Fall Pippin, and you have 
touches from Nature’s ‘makeup’ box not altogether to 
be despised, as complexions go amongst us. 
“The locks of which I have spoken look as if some 
artist in nocturnes had given them daily and extrava¬ 
gant coats of raven shoe-polish ; and besides on the 
elliptical pates of the fancifulolittle maidens, they are 
plastered and elaborated into an endless medley of 
twists, turns, ropes, and rolls. But all this is, if 
nothing else, a relief from the dead monotony of color. 
And then the beautiful rows of strong, white, well- 
cared-for teeth in every small, spherical mouth! 
‘Scarlet tulips,’ an English punster has dubbed the 
ruddy borders of the pretty half-moon mouth; and be¬ 
twixt the petals, like a weaver’s ivory shuttle seen 
through a ruby woof, ti.e glint and flash of pearl are 
such as would rescue even a distorted visage from the 
doom of homeliness. Moreover, as the Wee Ones of 
Japan are the jolliest elfins born—laughing from crown 
to toe through the golden hours of the daylight, and 
even into the gloaming—opportunities are constant 
for seeing the faultless teeth, which are, I may add, 
according to the experience and researches of an 
American dentist practicing in Japan, for color, for 
strength of enamel, and for perfection in setting un¬ 
equaled in the world. 
These fascinations are chiefly the work of Nature, 
with perfect digestion for her agent. But to Nature’s 
cunning is added another which theMotUerof the Cen¬ 
turies smiles on: the charming outlines and curves 
and roundings of our plump little hopeful are, if pos¬ 
sible, even more agreeable to us by our certain knowl- 
A cream of tartar baking powder. 
Highest of all in leavening strength. 
—Latest United States Government 
Report. 
Royal Baking Powder Co., 
106 Wall Street, New Tory. 
