Villa-Range Ladies Home Journal from Topeka, Kansas • 10

And so they planted their namesakes, I too, but a piece of a broken cup, once PERFUMING THE FLESH. Injecting Sweet-Smelling Liquids Into the lllootl. Of all feminine foibles perfuming the flesh is the most startling. It is the outgrowth of the passion for perfumes. Fair women are not content with bathing their tresses in fragrant waters, haviug their clothes folded in odorous sachet bags, having their shoes made of perfumed leather, wearing gloves lined with sachet powder and concealing numerous sachet bags among their WHERE SUE COMES.

BY CHAKLK8 E. GOING. With heavy elders overhung, Half bid in clover masses, An old fence rambles on, among The tangled meadow-grasses. It makes a shade for lady-fern, 'Which nestles clone beaide it While clematis, at every turn, And rosea almost hide it. In shade of overhanging sprays And down a sunny hollow, Byhazel-copae, and woodland ways, The winding fence I follow By rose, and thorn, and fragrant dew, In search of something sweeter The orchard gap where she comes through, And I go down to meet her The sunlight slants across the fence, Where lichens gray it over, And stirs a hundred dreamy scents From fern, and mint, and clover But though the air is sweet to-day, I know of something sweeter That she can only come this way, And I am sure to meet her I And so, while chipmunks run a match To tell the wrens who's coming, And all across the brier patch There sounds a drowsy humming The hum of honey-seeking bees I seek for something sweeter A gap among the apple trees, Where I am going to meet her 1 Scribncr.

BROTHER AND SISTER. and for days watched and watered them and wondered if they would. live. For a few days the leaves looked wilted and almost dead, but soon they began to take on a fresh look as the little roots began to take hold in their new home. And so the little hawthorn trees flourished, and the children were cor respondingly happy.

But the years" went on, and there came a time after a while that the playhouse was forgotten, for the children crew as did the trees, until the dark- haired, pale-faced boy became a man and the brown-eyed girl had blossomed into a fair, beautiful woman. A stranger from far-away New England saw her, loved her, and she placed her hand in his and gave her heart into his keeping. A few years they lived near the old home, and these years were full of happiness, but there camo a time at last when dark clouds began to gather all over the land. Muttering thunder was heard along the lakes and around the Atlantio coast, and sullen answers came growling up from along the Gulf and the valley of the Great liiver. Soon a loud flash leaped out from Fort Sump-ter and the storm began.

The husband turned to his own people, and she, bravely walking in the path of duty, went with him. The parting was a sad one. With aching heart and streaming eyes the brother watched his "little sister" pas3 out of his sight. She shed no tear, uttered no word; but the pallor of death held her face, and her figure trembled like a storm-shaken leaf a she turned her back on her brother and childhood's home with the little play-house under the hawthorn trees. The war came on.

Like a gigantic cyclone it swept over the land; before its terrible breath the whole land trembled. Reaching out with its long arms, it gathered everything into its in-satitate maw the wealth of years melted before its tongue of fire like frostwork, and the shrieks of the dying victims were drowned in the fearful howling of the storm as it crashed and roared. Backward and forward over the childhood home it swept, until at last its fury was spent, and the bright sunlight came again to paint with rosy fingers the ruin that was left. Then messages of love were sent out, at first vainly as the raven's mission, but after a while the dove returned with an olive branch. The brother was alive, but that was all; all else was gone.

He was left poverty-stricken in the cyclone's track: the sister a widow, and penniless in a strange land. She longed to see her brother, and he to hold his little sister once more to his heart but both were helpless to cross the wide barrier of space that lay between them. And so the years went on. One day a letter came to the brother in a handwriting that was not hers. With trembling fingers he tore it open.

Weary with waiting and worn with toil, heart and hands were still; the soft brown eyes were closed, and on her fair young face death's seal was placed. The home-pleo ding was hushed! It was vears before the brother could make his way to where she slept, but at last he reached the place. Strangers pointed out to him the place on a bleak hillside, then reverently left him alone with his dead. Throwing himself upon the grass-covered mound, he buried his face in his hands, and in his deep agony and distress he called her name again and again, but from the sleeping dust no answer came earnest ly he prayed God that he might die and be laid to rest beside her. They gave him the little she had left, a few trinkets, saved because they came from the far-away sunny home.

The brother's heart bled at the sight as he held them in his hand a little coral necklace she had worn when a child, a piece of her mother's hair, a bundle of letters from home, tied with a strip of faded ribbon. Ho bowed his head, and the image of tho dear little sister came and stood before so real that he almost felt that she was there. Back to the grave for a last sad look, a last farewell, and he turned his face again to struggle with the world, and to-day, after years of wandering, he reached the old homo again. Only one hawthorn is standing now; the other, that bore the little sister's name, is gone a decaying stump marks the place where it stood. The little moss-built houses are gone, her "little tup," lies just as she left it, and through, misty eyes he sees again the little sister with the soft brown eyes ana sun -burned, hawthorn tree.

hair under the FIGS AND THISTLES. From the Kam's Horn. Not to sow means not to reap. The devil trembles when a good man prays. A bad egg takes up as much room as a good one.

If we could know all, we could forgive more easily. Get each man right, and the nation will be right. Hell on earth is to be selfish among selfish pooplo. Everything sin has caused in the human race, it may cause in you. A poor man's all is greater in the sight of God than a rich man's millions.

The man who is always thinking evil finds 10,000 ways to speak it. People who won't think are the ones the devil feels the surest of getting. You can't tell how much milk a cow will give by tho way her bell rings. Every sinner would be a devil if he had the power to do as he wants to. Necessity is not only the mother of invention, but the father of lies also.

The great essential in saving men is to convince them that you love them. That church is in splendid condition where along prayer won't kill a prayer meeting. Determine to live always for Chri and you will always knoAv that He lives for you. To go to church without praying for the services i3 to take the devil along with you. If you are sinning without repent ance, you are helping the devil to rivet chains upon vou.

For a steady thing, the light oi a tallow candle is better than that of a skyrocket. Every man who loves his neighbor as himself, has something in his heart that God put there. Every mau who neglects to be saved to-day, invites the devil to come and get his soul to-morrow. You haven't got religion in earnest unless you are anxious that somebody else should also get it. You are not doing as much for God as you ought to do, unless you are giving Him all your influence.

There is no peace and rest and safety anywhere outside of unconditional submission to the will of God. The greatest enemy any man can have is the spirit that persuades him to wait awhile before trying to be a Christian. If people would stop looking toward the wrong place they would find it a great deal easier to stay in the right place. Before you can ever become a giant for Gcd, you must find out that without Him you are nothing more than a grasshopper. Many people aro electric lights in class meeting, and tallow dips at home.

If there is to be any difference in the shining, it ought to be just the other way. There is nothing compulsory abent salvation. Men are not driven into the kingdom of God like the swine were into the depths of the sea. Devils drive, but God never does. A.

T. Stewart's Aviny of Cousins. Although it is years since Alexander T. Stewart died, and although his es tate has been divided among heirs recognized by the courts, there are still some people who think themselves en titled to a share in the property. It is only a few weeks ago tiiat another claimant on the ground of relationship turned up and wanted to know when he could get his inheritance.

It is estimated by some of the lawyers connected with the Stewart litigation that of cousins alone there have appeared nearly 2,000, and from the number of other alleged connections it is thought by the lawyers that Mr. Stewart had more relations than any other man in the world. It won't be long, perhaps, before the notion that one is a Stewart heir will become a recognized form of insanity. New York Sun. A pbetty time of night moonlight, I clothing.

A half-dozen fashionable women ho returned from Paris early in the season brought the secret with them. They guarded it closely at firr but when others came home from the frivolous citv laden with its knowledge the custom spread rapidly. A beautiful social queen in the gay capital first hit upon it. Like many another, she was a victim of the opium habit. She noticed that after injecting, hypodermically, a strong infusion of tho drug, as was her habit, her entire body wras redolent with its peculiar and offensive odor.

She laved herself in perfumes, but neither that nor the sachet-scented clothing could overcome the sickening odor of the opium. An idea came to her. She decided to try an experiment. She injected "a few drops of perfume into her body as she did the opium. Her delight was, unbouuded when she found that her body breathed forth the delicious perfume much sweeter than that given forth by the extract directly.

A woman can inject the perfume herself or her maid can do it. American toilet dealers have not yet placed the subcutaneous perfume syringe in stock. The ordinary physicians' hypodermic, syringe will do quite as well. The perfume is usually injected in one of three places and generally in two of them, from three to five drops, being the amount used. At first tho ociety queen inserts the syringe in her arm.

If sho handles it herself she selects the left one, as she can handle the instrument more skillfully with the right. The arm is bared nearly to the shoulder. Just where the arm is bent at the elbow the needle is inserted horizontally about a quarter of an inch. It pierces the cuticle and the epidermis. Then the pision is pushed down and the drops of perfume are forced into the body.

When the needle is removed the tiny drop of blood wells forth upon her white arm. A slight swelling has been raised, caused by the perfume. She gently presses it with her finger with a soft rubbing motion. The perfume is disseminated and the swelling disappears. It enters the millions of capillaries, the cobweb network of tiny veins which covers the body.

The capillaries carry it to the veins, which bear it along through the system to the heart. There it passes into the lungs, and the delicate odor is thrown off in the breath. And such a delicious odor comes from the cherry lips. No baby's breath could be half so sAveet. lie-entering the heart, the perfume-laden blood enters the arterial system and is sent to every portion of the body.

The perfume breathes forth from every pore of the skin. The fair belle revels in an intoxication of sweetness. She places her hand upon another and the odor lingers there. Perspiration, ijiat foul enemy of sweetness, has no terrors for her. But there is danger in the use of the subcutaneous perfume syringe.

Some of the extracts are poisonous, and if the system is run down abcesses are likely to follow the injection of tho needle. Neatly Turned. Seated iu a street car were two sweet young things who were full of the beautiful ingenuousness of girlhood. "Oh, Amy I have a frightful rip in my riding habit and I forgot to have it mended. Lend mo yours to-morrow, will you?" "Yes, indeed, dear," (with emphasis and the utmost sweetnoss), "but I'm awfully afraid you'll find it too tight; I wear a twenty-one corset you know." "Yes" (a slight but very impressivo pause), "I think perhaps I can get it together, though; I wear a nineteen." it was as clean a cut as a stroke of razor, beautifully given and beautifully taken, Both faces preserved their calm and placid expression, and a new topic of conversation was started almost instantly.

Boston IY C. C. SCOTT. Two children were playing in the yard tinder the grand old oak. They had built little houses of bits of moss that grew in the damp recesses of the gnarled roots that jutted out of the ground, and with broken twigs had fenced in the yards and gardens around the little mossy homes.

Scattered here and there were pieces of broken cups and dishes, some plain, others painted in, bright colors, and a great variety of broken glass which they had arranged as toilet sets and mirrors to adorn the homes they had built. Several rag dolls of serious countenances and extreme age sat around, while chickens made of paper and pigs and cattle manufactured of potatoes were scattered around. The children had spent some hours in tins amusement, out at last nau grown tired and looked at each other in a weaiy kind of way, each wondering what they should do next. The older of the two was a pale-faced boy about eight years old. A pair of bed-ticking suspenders, or "galluses," as he called them, held up his blue cotton pants, through which a pair of little brown legs, grimy wiuh dust and rough with briar scratches, protruded; a dingy, homespun shirt and a straw hat on a second summer's duty, completed his costume.

The other child a little girl of six, with brown eyes and a wealth of sun-browned hair wore a pink calico dress, fashioned so short -waisted that her dumpy little figure looked as broad as she was tall. Suddenly the boy's eye3 brightened and he said "I tell you, little sister, le's go to the woods and find two little trees and bring them here and plant them, and they will be our trees and when we get grown we can tell that we planted those big trees." "Yes," chimed in the little girl," and we can name them our names, too. Won't it be funny?" Down into a tangle of shrubs and wild flowers they scampered, drinking in, as only children and lovers of nature can, the beauty of the sloping fields in their springtime holiday dress, each a poem of living green. To these little ones, whose brown eyes and vivid fancies saw clearly and deeply, the odor of the flowers came as a heavenly incense, aud the rustling of the leaves and grasses were whispered messages from the fairy land. Down by the little stream which ran through the wood lot they found their namesakes two tiny hawthorn 6prouts growing side by side.

The boy, after much tugging, aided by digging about the roots, succeeded in uprooting the little twigs which were to be transplanted. Delighted with the crowning of their effort, each took a plant and laughingly ran back to the play house. With an old skillet-handle the boy dug a hole for each little tree, while his busy companion brought, in a leaky tin coffee-pot, water from a tub which stood at the well. Placing the trees iu the holes prepared for them, the boy packed in the dirt while the little sister poured in the water she had brought..