WOMAN'S WORLD

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIV, Issue 27, 26 July 1911, Page 6

WOMAN'S WORLD

(Conducted by "Eileen"). MADAME PATTI. A very large audience gathered at the ltoyal Albert Hall, London, last month, when Mine. Patti gave a benefit performance for Mr. Wilhelm Ganz. The rapturous applause which greeted each of Mme. Patti's songs proved the affectionate appreciation in which English imtsic-lovcrs hold the famous prima donna (reports the Daily Mail). She sang with extraordinary success, her rendering of Mozart's "Voi che sapete" being a beautiful piece of work, full of grace and tenderness. Masses of flowers were handed up to the platform for the great singer, among them being a great basket of blossoms bearing the figures "1801—1!M1," the occasion being the fiftieth anniversary of Mme. Patti's first appearance in London. Mme. Patti appeared with an imposing array of decorations—Belgian, French and Italian — and the Russian Tzartliche, of which she is the only woman possessor. At the conclusion of her last song, "Home, Sweet Home," Mme. Tetrazzini made a dramatic appearance on the platform, flung her arms around Mme. Patti, and presented her with a bouquet.

A LADY BOXER The Sydney Sun writes thus of Miss Dulcie Hall,'the latest recruit to the world of boxing, and the first Sydney lady to go in solidly for the pugilistic art:—A year ago Miss Hall was a timid, shrinking, demure girl, troubled with "that tired feeling." afraid, almost, of her own shadow. She would not go into a dark house at night for all the tea in China —and ladies do like tea, don't they? Climbing hills in those days tired her out. Her heart refused to do its work properly. She used to have headaches and spots before the eyes and pains like those you see depicted in "Every picture tells a story." Her flesh was llabby. her checks colorless. She is not a tall girl, and she could not have held her own even in a struggle at a bargain sale . counter. She would always have been on the outside edge of the scrum. But to-day Miss Hall, although she is-not an amazon, and does not claim to be quite up to the level of "a wl. ite hope," is a far stronger and healthier girl than she was a year ago. And ,cith it all she is more trim and neat than before, can walk and run up hills that previously she had to take "on the third speed," has cheeks like rosy apples, a swinging gait that would make an Arab envious, and she can punch like the kick of a mule. If you ask her what has led to this metamorphosis, she will tell you "boxing—and physical training generally."

A SUFFRAGETTE WEDDING A suffragette wedding at Brighton during the week was distinguished by( "a special wording of the marriage service, which intimated that the two united themselves on the round of per-' feet equality as comrades and help-i mates." That contract would have suit-1 ed John Stuart Mill, who loudly express-1 ed his disgust at the formula by which he was married to Mts. Taylor. The famous statement signed by him on that) occasion protested against the state of the law which "confers upon one of the! parties to the contract legal power and: I control over the person, property and freedom of action of the other party, | independent of her own wishes and will"; I and added a solemn promise never to | make use of such power. "And," he addi ed, "in the event of marriage between Mrs. Taylor and myself I declare it to be my will and intention, and the condition of the engagement between us, that she retains in all respects whatever the same absolute freedom of action, and freedom of disposal of money a/id of all that does or may at any time belong to her, as if no such marriage had taken place; and I absolutely disclaim and repudiate pVetence to have acquired any rights whatever by virtue of such marriage." That was just sixty years ago; and if the legal relations of husband and wife have been somewhat modij fled in the interval, the marriage serj vice retains a phraseology quite incom- | patible with Mills' theory of sexua] equality.—London Observer. I

THE NEW HATS There are two things one notices about the new hats {writes a London correspondent). The small hats are very high, the large ones hare flat crowns; and small wings have oneo more come into their own. Naturally the helmet-shaped hats have the wings placed a la Hermes, on either side of the crown; sometimes the whole hat is trimmed with small wings right round the crown, or they are massed in clusters. Large sailor hats of rice straw are much worn, with quite smart costumes. They trim them with a band of gathered velvet, standing upright, but not too close against the crown. A little to the left there is a 1 large bow of black velvet. Velvet is being much used for trimming this summer. It is always becoming, and finishes a costume better than anything else. It is such a restful note in the scheme of millinery. Long feathers arc wired to give the extreme height necessary to the small toque. Now that summer has really come, much larger hats are being worn, trimmed mainly over the wnvn with flowers, or with great featht.s, costing three or four guineas, the brim turned widely from the face, the stalk of the feather! caught by a broad piece of velvet fronu under the brim, so that you see it en face, and an end or two of velvet hang down near the neck. The old cloche shape has returned, and is trimmed with flowers. Bindings of black velvet arc used for the big crinoline or Tagal hats, some of which are wreathed in shaded roses.

THE DIFFICULT AGE. The mother of (laughters has a task before her when the girls verge upon young womanhood. It is at this especial time that a girl is prone to take , up little affectations that will mar her .all her life if her family, with cruel J kindness, does not take a ha»d and stop

her. It is at this age that a girl always wishes to change her name. If it is Katharine she wishes to spell it ~ Kathryn; if it is Ediili, it becomes Edyth, or if Mary she will try to makeit May or Marie or Mae. She wilj also j assume a supernatural sweetness and] artlessness if allowed to go on posing . to herself. There is just now an unreasonable desire on the part of parents to allow their children to have a good time. "They are never girls but once," the fond parents say, and proceed to allow the, young women to be utterly selfish and vain, and to form habits of extravagance and idleness that will be sure later to distract some young business man who marries them, and to cause themselves no end of distress when they are obliged (as we all are some day) to put aside pretending, and get down to the plain business of life. I notice in so many of the young girls I see in the street and in shops and stores a sort of attitudinising, a Selfconscious expression of countenance, together with a preoccupation so evident as to convince one that the victim of it is far away in some dreamland of her own, in which she is cutting a figure. )Vas not the cheap drama, the flimsy literature of the time, not responsible lor this? Imbued the girl and the woman with the idea that she, too, shall be a heroine when the time comes? i When I meet this sort of girl on the other side of the counter (and I meet I her oft'ener than I do the plain business saleswoman), when I wait for her to pat i Her hair and straighten her belt, or exchange some banality with a chum whom she calls "Kiddy," when I meet her in society and receive from her the merest | perfunctory recognition, when I find her in my employ in various ways, my hope for womankind ebbs low, and I wonder how long it will be before the women will grasp the great idea of being what they are, an<l doing the tiling they can do.—Ladies' Home Journal.

A FRENCH HEROINE. All honor to Madame Matelot, whose story of heroism and devotion has just been thrilling France, as it will the whole world when it is told, as it deserves to be, at every hearth side. As given by the Paris correspondent of the London Advertiser it makes delightful reading. The' beacon light is situated in the commune of Locmaria, in Bclle-Ileen-Mer, about a mile and a-half from , any habitation. M. Matelot, the guardian of the lighthouse, became ill while/ cleaning the lantern. Thinking it was l ! only a passing indisposition, he remained ' at work until midday. But he became worse, and had to go to bed. His wife could not leave him and her four children to seek help. In spite of her attention the lighthouse-keeper became worse, and at T o'clock it was seen that he was dying. Night was falling, and the lantern was not lit. The brave woman left her children round their father's bedside, and mounted the tower,' and, as she thought, set the light going. She returned just in time to see her husband drawing his last breath. She [began to weep with the children, but 1 her thoughts were turned from her dead I husband by one of the children exclaiming: "Mamma, the light is not revolvling!" In point of fact, the light was | not turning. Instantly the poor woman | realised that it might be confused with | a fixed light, and so mislead vessels and I possible cause shipwrecks. Once more | she mounted the tower in the hope of : being able to set the light in motion. I She labored an hour, but her efforts i were in vain. In the morning her husband, while cleaning the mechanism, had, in consequence of his sudden illness, not been able to put it together. The woman descended,, and, taking her two eldest children, ,agpd seven and ten, again mounted the tower. Mother and children remain* in tlie narrow chamber of the lighthouse from 9 o'clock in the evening until 7 in the morning, and kept "turning" the light, swinging it from side to side/? : All this time the two younger children remained near the body of the dead lighthouse-keeper. An appeal is.being made to the State on behalf of the family, who are poor, and I sadly in need of help. A GOOD STORY

I My dear," said a thoughtless husband j our club is to have all home comforts " I J"uecd-!" "replied the neglected wife, . and tfhenis bm home to have all club comforts C,. some who ought to know better ask how a poor working man, after his day's toil, can rest amid a family of troublesome children. Well they are'his'children, as well as his wife's. She has the worry of them all day.- Old goody-goody books tell a wife to get, All the children to bed before the husband comes home; to never mention any family anxieties to her ! tired lord and master; and to end her arduous day by smoothing the wrinkles out of,his,sweated brow, and to always •smile when he frpw f ns. But the truehearted husband knows bis wife has her worries too; lie 1 greets her cheerily and ■asksChfcwothw day'has gone- <ret's the young n . Ol i,4u Mhneesi!(wd js ' not aboye en4,n £.ft.,Nfc tfcWtf™ ""ome, sweet ™^ n *' at Ilkeston !