





Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Dialect spellings, contractions and discrepancies have
been retained.


[Illustration: LADY CURZON]




THE WOMAN BEAUTIFUL



By

MME. QUI VIVE

(HELEN FOLLETT STEVANS)



CHICAGO
JAMIESON-HIGGINS CO.
1901

COPYRIGHT, 1899, BY
STEVANS AND HANDY




PREFACE


The Woman Beautiful is not a radiant creature of gorgeous plumage and
artificial beauty, but a woman of wholesome health, good hard sense,
sparkling vivacity and sweet lovableness. Her beauty-creed hangs not
from rouge pots and bleaches, but suspends like a banner of truth from
the laws of wise, hygienic living. Her cheeks are tinted with the glow
that comes from good, well-circulated blood, her eyes are bright and
lovely because her mind is so, and her complexion is transparent and
soft and velvety for the reason that the true art is known to her. The
Woman Beautiful is all sincerity. She doesn't like to sail under false
colors and so insult old Dame Nature, whose kindnesses and benefits are
so well meant and freely offered.




TABLE OF CONTENTS


                                       PAGE

THE COMPLEXION                            9
    Expression                           14
    Useless Beauty                       16
    Washing the Face                     20
    Facial Eruptions and Blackheads      23
    Tan, Sunburn and Freckles            27
    Complexion Powders                   32
    Wrinkles                             35
    Recipes for the Complexion           39

CARE OF THE HAIR                         46
    Dressing the Hair                    56
    Superfluous Hair                     63
    Recipes for the Hair                 65

THE HANDS                                68
    Bathing the Hands                    71
    Care of the Finger Nails             73
    Recipes for the Hands                75

THE EYES                                 79
    The Girl Who Cries                   83
    The Eyelashes                        86
    The Eyebrows                         86

THE TEETH                                88

BATHING                                  93

DIET                                    100

SLEEP                                   109

EXERCISE                                114

STOOPED SHOULDERS                       125

BREATHING                               130

MASSAGE                                 136

DRESS                                   144

THE THIN GIRL                           149

THE PLUMP GIRL                          154

THE WORKING GIRL                        161

THE NERVOUS ONE                         167

PERFUMES                                174




The Woman Beautiful




                           THE COMPLEXION

    The bloom of opening flowers, unsullied beauty,
    Softness and sweetest innocence she wears,
    And looks like Nature in the world's first Spring.

    --_Rowe._


Bad complexions cause more heartaches than crushed ambitions and cases
of sudden poverty. The reason is plain. Ordinary troubles roll away
from the mind of a cheery, energetic woman like water from a duck's
back, but beauty worries--well! they have the most amazingly insistent
way of sticking to one. You may say you won't think of them, but you do
just the same.

It was always thus, and thus it always will be.

Diogenes searched untiringly for an honest man--so they say. Woman,
bless her dear, ambitious heart, seeks with unabating energy the ways
and means of becoming beautiful.

After all, they're not so hard to find when once the secret of it is
known. Like the keys and things rattling about in her undiscoverable
pocket, they're right with her. If she will but stop her fretting for a
moment, sit down and think, then gird on her armor and begin the
task--why, that's all that's needed.

There are three great rules for beauty. The first is diet, the second
bathing, and the third exercise. All can be combined in the one word
health. But, alas! how few of us have come into the understanding of
correct living! It is woman's impulse--so I have found--to buy a jar of
cream and expect a miracle to be worked on a bad complexion in one
brief night. How absurd, when the cause of the worry may be a bad
digestion, impure blood or general lack of vitality! One might just as
well expect a corn plaster to cure a bad case of pneumonia, or an eye
lotion to remedy locomotor ataxia. The cream may struggle bravely and
heal the little eruptions for a day or so, but how can it possibly
effect a permanent cure when the cause flourishes like a blizzard at
Medicine Hat or a steam radiator in the first warm days of April?

Cold cream, pure powders and certain harmless face washes are godsends
to womankind, but they can't do everything! They have their
limitations, just like any other good thing. You may have a perfect
paragon of a kitchen lady, whose angel food is more heavenly than
frapped snowflakes, but you can't really expect her to build you a
four-story house with little dofunnies on the cupolas. Of course not.
Angel cake is her limit! And that's the way with those lovely liquids
and things on your pretty spindle-legged dressing table. They can do a
good deal in the beautifying line, but they can't do everything. Give
them the help of perfect health and scrupulous cleanliness of the skin,
and lo! what wonders they will work!

There is but one way--and it's so simple--of making oneself good to
look upon. Resolve to live hygienically. There is nothing in the world
which works swifter toward a clear, glowing, fine-textured and
beautiful complexion than a simple, natural diet of grains and nuts and
fruits. But you women--oh! it positively pains me to think of the
broiled lobsters, the deviled crabs with tartar sauce, the pickles, and
the conglomerate nightmare-lunches that you consume. And yet you're
forever fussing over leathery skins, dark-circled eyes and a lack of
rosy pink cheeks. Oh, woman! woman! why aren't you wise?

Here are some rules. They're golden, too:

Eat with wisdom and good sense. That means to pension off the pie and
its companion workers of physical woe.

Take a tepid sponge bath every day, either upon arising in the morning
or just before going to bed.

Limit the hot scrubbings to one a week.

Exercise with regularity, and dress as a rational human being should.

Drink three pints of pure, distilled water every day.

See that the bedroom is well ventilated, and don't heap up the pillows
until you have a mountain range upon which to rest your poor, tired
head. A flat bed and a low pillow help toward a fine, straight figure
and a good carriage.

Keep your feet warm. Give those pretty round yellow silk garters to the
girl you hate, and invest in sensible hose supporters. If your
circulation is defective, wear wool stockings.

Don't fret. Bear in mind what Sheridan said:

    "A night of fretful passion may consume
    All that thou hast of beauty's gentle bloom;
    And one distempered hour of sordid fear
    Prints on thy brow the wrinkles of a year."

Then rest. Don't, I beg of you, live on the ragged edge of your nerve
force. You need quiet, and all you can get of it. We victims of
civilization go through life at a breakneck gallop, and it's an immense
mistake. Anyhow, those who know say so. And it sounds reasonable.

But, after all, the complexion is only a small part toward the making
of a beautiful woman. The hair must be kept sweet and clean and
healthy, and the teeth should be white and lovely. It was Rousseau, you
know, who said that no woman with good teeth could be ugly. Then the
hands and nails must have proper attention. Deep breathing should be
practiced daily and the body properly exercised. The carriage must be
graceful, the walk easy and without effort, the eyes bright, the
expression of the face cheerful and animated, the shoulders and head
well poised--but all these are different stories. There's a chapter in
each one of them.

Above all, remember this one rule: Don't fret. Don't wear a look of
trouble and worry. Above everything else, remember those delicious
lines of the immortal bard:

    "You have such a February face,
    So full of frost, of storm, of cloudiness."

And after remembering, refrain.


EXPRESSION.

One of the first things to remember in the cultivation of beauty is
expression. Who doesn't enjoy looking upon the young girl, with a
bright, cheerful face, laughing eyes and all that? Everybody! And when
the grumpy lady or the whiney lady or the lady of woes trots in and
sullies your near landscape, how do you feel? Just about as cheery as
if she'd come to ask you to attend a funeral!

My dear girls, it doesn't matter if you have got a freckle or two, or
if your nose does tilt up just a little too much, if you have a jolly,
bright face people will call you pretty. You can count on that every
time. Good nature is a splendid beautifier. It brightens the eyes,
discourages approaching wrinkles, and brings the apple blossom tints
into your cheeks.

Another thing to remember is this: Keep the mind active. There's
nothing that will make a stolid, bovine face like a brain that isn't
made to get up and hustle. Don't sit around and read lovey-dovey novels
or spend your time chatting with that stupid woman next door. Don't
forget that life is short and there's not a moment to waste. When hubby
discusses the question of expansion just pipe up and show him what you
know about it. Don't get into an argument with him, but let him see
that you read the papers and that you know a thing or two about passing
events.

Then don't stay cooped up in the house. Go out every day, if it's only
to the corner market, and if you have to wade through snowdrifts. In
short, be up and doing. Don't dwell on past griefs or griefs that have
not yet arrived. Study is mental development, and mental development
usually means a bright, pleasing expression.


USELESS BEAUTY.

As a general rule, the man of brains and good sense--and he's the only
man worth considering seriously--heartily despises the useless beauty.
By this I mean the woman who is always togged up and crimped and curled
and looks as if she were not worth a row of pins except as a means of
livelihood to the modistes and the milliners and the hairdressers! The
kind of beauty that I like is the sort that is active, doing,
achieving, and working for some good. I believe, and fully too, that we
can all appear at our best and yet not look as if we were made of cut
glass and Dresden that would crack or break or peel off if the lake
winds happened to take a fancy to blow our way. It may sound at a
frightful variance from the general preaching of the beauty teacher,
but--between you and me and the ice cream soda that we do not drink
because it upsets our stomachs and ruins our complexions--I have simply
no use whatever for the little girl who puts in the entire day (and
half the night) fussing over her complexion, kinking her hair into
seventeen little twists and curlycues, and dabbling lotions and things
on her nose till you can't rest. A certain amount of all this is
necessary, but don't give your life over to it. The waste of time is
enough to make one want to be a Patagonian lady whose sole adornments
in the beautifying line consist of a necklace of elephant's teeth and a
few Patagonian babies. When beautifying gets to the stage where one has
no time for mental refurbishing it ceases to be beauty culture, and is
simply nonsense and loss of time.

I can spot this class of women a block away. In my mind's eye I can see
them fussing and primping for hours before they are ready to don their
street clothes and get down into the shopping district for the day's
work of pricing real lace and buying hairpins. And I always look around
me and think of what a vast deal of work there is in this great, big,
sorrowful old world, and what direful need there is of every one
pitching in and helping. To me, the useless woman is not a pretty
woman. She is an ornament, like the shepherdess on the mantelpiece or
the Spanish lady in the picture frame that hangs in the hallway. But
the other woman--the pretty and the useful woman--oh, but she is a
sight to make old eyes grow young. Her gown is spotless, her hair all
fluffy and lovely, her hat just at the correct angle. She steps along
quickly, and you know by the very air about her that she is a worker,
be she of the smart set or of the humdrum life that toils and spins
from morn till eve. Her eyebrows are not penciled, there is not a trace
of rouge on her cheeks, but she is a healthy, well-built, active woman,
whose very appearance of neatness, sweetness and buoyancy tells all who
see her that she is a devotee of the daily bath, the dumb-bells, the
correct and hygienic life.

In half an hour any woman should be able to take her plunge, coddle her
complexion, dress her hair, manicure her nails, and attend to her
teeth. If more time be needed, then the work is hardly worth the while,
for life is mighty short, my dears, and things that must be done pile
up as the years go by. At night in fifteen minutes the face and hands
can be well washed, the hair brushed and combed and plaited, the teeth
well cleaned, and the complexion massaged with a little pure home-made
cream. Of course, when the hair is shampooed or the nails manicured
with particular care, or the complexion subjected to a thorough
cleansing by steam or massage, then more time is necessary.

But the gist of it all is this: Let us not spend so much time on the
exterior effect that we will forget that which is most necessary to a
beautiful woman--the bright, interesting mind, the love of learning
things, the desire to be keeping apace with just a little bit of the
world's progress, and, best of all, teaching oneself how to live wisely
and well. There never was--to my way of thinking--a brainless, silly
woman who was beautiful. It takes the light of intellect, the splendor
of sweet womanliness, the glory of kindness, unselfishness and goodness
to complete a perfect picture of "the woman beautiful."


WASHING THE FACE.

A good old stand-by query is about the simple matter of keeping one's
face clean. There is no manner of doubt but that the hard water which
we have in the cities is responsible for many complexion ills, and that
we must not use it too generously upon our complexions if we long for
the colors of the rose and the lily in our cheeks. There is nothing in
the world so excellent as rain-water for the skin, but it's a great
bulging problem as to how those of us who live in yardless flats and
apartments can manage to catch the elusive rain-drops. We might as well
hope to lasso an electric car and hitch it onto our back porches for
the babies to play in, I think. When city people persist in telling
others to wash their faces in rain-water and thus secure beauty
everlasting and glorious, I always have a mental picture of a frantic
lady with golden locks a-streaming and her eyes brimful of wildness,
rushing madly down the street with basins and things in her
outstretched hands. It's all right if one has rain-barrels or cisterns,
but, after years of perspiring and nerve-sizzling flat hunting, I have
failed to find apartments provided with either of these luxuries. With
folding beds built in the sleeping apartments and steam radiators with
real steam in them, the landlords feel that their duties are done.

But to return to our muttons. Those who cannot have real rain-water
should use the harder brand sparingly on their faces. A thorough
scrubbing at night before going to bed is an absolute necessity, lest
the pores of the skin become clogged with the smoke and dust of our
murky atmosphere. A little castile soap and a camel's-hair face brush
will assist the cleansing operation. To soften the water, I would
advise the following delightful lotion:

    Four ounces of alcohol.
    One ounce ammonia.
    One dram oil of lavender.

    One teaspoonful to a large basin of water is sufficient. To keep
    the skin free from harshness and on unpleasant terms with wrinkles
    and turkey tracks, a little pure cold cream should be used. If, in
    the morning, the skin has not absorbed all the oils of the cream,
    then wipe away with a cloth just slightly moistened. When at other
    times the face needs washing, let me suggest that this toilet milk
    be used. It is also excellent to apply before fluffing powder over
    the cheeks:


    Milk of violets:

    Cucumber juice, boiled and cooled, one ounce.
    Spirit of soap, one ounce.
    Rose-water or orange flower water, four ounces.

    By remembering that there are two tablespoonfuls to the ounce, the
    measuring will not be at all difficult. If one wishes a stronger
    perfume add a few drops of violet extract. Whether rose-water or
    orange flower be used is left to one's own choice. They are equally
    excellent for the skin.


FACIAL ERUPTIONS AND BLACKHEADS.

With most women, pimples are caused by indigestion or constipation.
Unless the body throws off its waste material as it should, the
poisonous matter will endeavor to find a way out through the pores of
the skin. The face, being the most sensitive, is usually the first part
of the body to be afflicted. The remedy for facial blemishes is found
in exercise, baths and a careful diet. And that reminds me that I would
like to remark right here that the combinations that girls and women
get when they order lunches are appalling enough to raise the hair
right off one's head, most particularly if one has any idea at all of
the general rules of hygiene and health.

It is just as easy to put beautifying foods into your stomach if you
will but once make up your mind to it. And what a host of trouble it
will save you! Not only in cosmetics, but doctor bills. What you eat is
the fuel that keeps the engine of life going. Good food makes good
strong muscles, pure blood and a fair, healthy, firm skin. If there are
troublesome little blotches on your face then mend your eating ways,
even though it breaks your heart to give up those awful and
indigestible dainties that you dote on so religiously. In place of the
pastries and the sweets and the pickles and the highly spiced dishes,
substitute fruit and vegetables. Save all those nickels and dimes that
you invest in ice cream soda, and instead exchange them for lemons and
oranges that will help drive away the unsightly pimples and red
blemishes. If possible, make your entire breakfast of fruit, either
cooked or raw. If the apples and oranges and peaches and pears do not
make active the digestive organs, then go to a reliable druggist and
have this harmless and excellent prescription filled:

    Extract of dandelion, one dram.
    Powdered rhubarb, q. s.

    Divide into three and one-half grain pills and take one every
    night, or oftener if necessary.

A state of nervousness will ofttimes bring a heart-wringing crop of
eruptions to the surface of the skin, and this condition is best
remedied by plenty of baths, lots of fresh air, exercise, and a stiff
but cheerful determination to brace up and not have any nerves--which,
by the way, is much easier said than done, as most of us know to our
sorrow.

No matter of what order the facial eruptions may be, they must be
treated with the greatest gentleness possible. There is nothing in
the world worse than rubbing them with a coarse towel, a proceeding
strongly advised by the old-fashioned ones who--bless their hearts--are
so likely to stick to old-timey notions till the cows come home, no
matter what arguments may be brought up to convince them of their
mistaken views.

Pimples must never be irritated. Breaking or bruising the skin only
adds to its diseased condition and general irritation. If the
complexion is unsightly with red blotches, a solution of boric acid in
boiling water, used warm, will be an effective lotion. Its application
should, of course, be combined with proper living as laid out above,
care being taken as to diet, exercise and the tepid daily bath. A good
cold cream should also be used. I have been told by many that
continuous applications of creme marquise had done away with pimples
and blackheads, and it is frequently found that nothing more than a
sensible diet and some simple pure face cosmetic is needed. When the
skin is merely inflamed--that is, red of color and very tender, there
is nothing better than a soothing cream like this. Listerine, witch
hazel and eau de cologne are all good as external lotions for pimples.
A paste of sulphur and spirits of camphor, which should be put on at
night and washed off the following morning, will do good work, provided
the beauty patient knows the laws of health.

[Illustration: MRS. OGDEN ARMOUR]

When there are both blackheads and pimples the latter must first be
gotten rid of. When the skin is perfectly free of these, then begin
with a camel's hair face-scrubbing brush to do away with the
blackheads. Wash the face thoroughly with the brush every night just
before going to bed, using warm water and pure castile soap. If the
blackheads are very bad add alcohol to the water. That is very
cleansing, but as it is also drying, a face cream must be smeared on
immediately after the face is rinsed and wiped. For some days it may
seem that the pores are large and coarse and open, but they are simply
undergoing a cleansing process that in the end will bring a lovely
white, perfect skin. Whenever I hear women say that they never wash
their faces, but use a cream instead, I always wonder if they really
feel clean. I am sure I would not. Fancy the state of our hands were we
never to wash them! And the face, having more oil glands, is in still
greater need of soap and water. However, let me say right here that no
soap at all is better than a cheap scented soap, and unless the very
best and purest soaps can be had it is much more desirable to
substitute almond meal or something of the sort. Treatment for
blackheads calls for the same care of the health as does treatment for
pimples.


TAN, SUNBURN AND FRECKLES.

Tan, like borrowing friends, and various other afflictions, is awfully
easy to get, but really more than passing difficult to remove. It is
delightful to sit on a big bowlder that dots a great, lovely, sandy
waste and watch your hands gradually turn from their customary
whiteness to a deep burnt orange. One has to have something to show for
a trip out of town, one thinks, else the doubting Thomases will arise
and give vent to suspicions that one has been merely concealing oneself
in an attic or back bedroom. It is pleasant, too, to go fishing, with a
dainty, absurd little hat that, although it looks pretty, is about as
useful as would be a beaten biscuit pinned to one's tresses. You feel
your nose becoming unusually warm, and it begins to tingle and smart as
if the pores were filling up with hot sand. All of which is quite in
keeping with summer-resort existence, and you are as proud as Lucifer
when you trail back to town to show this cerise-tinted evidence of your
outing.

But the friends who you thought would envy you giggle and smirk and
nudge each other and make suggestions that are supposed to be
mirth-compelling. And then and there you decide to do differently next
summer. A sunburned nose may be a treasurable possession away from
town, but back among the hosts of the city it is a different matter.
More than that, it is an affliction.

If the weeks at the seashore or the lakes would only brown the summer
girl it would not matter so much. But instead of making the skin a
beautiful, poetical olive tint, it usually turns it to a hue which is
best compared to the flaunting colors of the auctioneer's emblem. If
the girl is reckless, if she runs here and there without a hat, and
gives never a moment to the care of her skin, her own mother is not
likely to recognize her unless the summer girl soon repents and mends
her ways.

What mischief Old Sol cannot do, the brisk winds will contribute. The
result is usually a red-eyed, red-nosed, flakey-skinned little woman,
whom one would never suspect of having been rollicking through a few
weeks of midsummer joys. If her ears are not blistered, her nose is,
and if her complexion is not harsh and rough from lack of care, it is
bespeckled with freckles and covered with a deep layer of golden brown
tan that has distributed itself like patches on a crazy quilt.

There is not one woman in forty who can afford to ignore the ordinary
precautions for preserving her complexion during the summer months.

A parasol is the first necessity. A white gauze veil is another,
although this can be dispensed with if the skin is not particularly
sensitive to sun and wind. Never, under any circumstances, must you
bathe your face in soap and water before going out of door or just
after coming in. This habit will make the freckles pop out in fine
order. After coming in from a tramp or a fishing party bathe the face
at once in half a cupful of sweet milk in which a pinch of soda has
been dissolved. If this is inconvenient, as it often is when one is a
hotel guest and not a cottager, then use a good face cream. Strong
soaps containing an excess of alkali are bad enough at any time, but
during the hot weather they are particularly trying to almost any skin.
Too much care cannot be taken to get proper soaps.

The following sedative lotion applied to the face will prevent its
tanning or freckling to any extent, that is, if one takes proper care
of one's skin:

    Distilled witch hazel, 3 ounces.
    Prepared cucumber juice, 3 ounces.
    Rose-water, 1-1/2 ounces.
    Essence white rose, 1-1/2 ounces.
    Simple tincture of benzoin, one-half ounce.

    After rubbing this into the skin with the finger tips and letting
    the cuticle absorb it well, apply a pure vegetable powder.

When the face becomes sunburned apply plenty of cold cream. But be sure
that it is your own home-made cream, else you may be putting lard or
something else on your face, which, in a most amazing short time, will
produce a thrifty growth of tiny, fine hairs. And then you will wish
you had never lived to see the coming of the "happy summertime."

Lastly, to remove freckles, quickly apply lemon juice with a camel's
hair complexion brush. Let the juice dry in and massage with creme
marquise.


COMPLEXION POWDERS.

Whenever women fail for congenial topics of dispute they can always
fall back on the old topic of the best face-powder.

"I have used that delightful velvety 'Blush Rose' for years and years,"
says Mrs. Lovely, "and I think it is simply fine."

"Blush Rose?" shrieks Mrs. Pretty. "Why, I wouldn't use that for
a-an-any-thing! My husband's brother-in-law, who worked in a drug
store, once told me that 'Blush Rose' had lead and bismuth and ever so
many other dreadful, awful things in it. Now, I dote on 'Velvety
Carnation.' I know that that is perfectly pure. And it sticks just like
your husband's relatives--simply never lets go!"

"'Velvety Carnation!'" repeats Mrs. Lovely. "You poor child. I don't
wonder that you have such a time with your skin--" And so on until both
charming disputants march airily away, each deciding that the other
will soon be in her grave if such foolishness in the choice of a face
powder is continued.

Women need not discuss finances or peace policies. They have their own
little face-powder question that is good for all time to come, no
matter whether we all go and settle in the Philippines or hand these
interesting islands back to Spain with a "much-obliged, thank you." I
have often thought how thankful we should all be that we are not
Dahomey ladies, who have no opportunities for these pleasant little
arguments. We may have to put up with a good many discomforts in our
life of civilization, but we don't miss quite everything in the way of
joys.

The formula for face powder which I am about to give is not only
perfectly harmless, but of exceptional medicinal qualities. Nothing is
better for an irritated skin than boracic acid, so the girl with facial
eruptions can feel perfectly safe in using this powder. Oxide of zinc,
in the quantity given, can do no possible injury; many of the
manufactured preparations being made almost entirely of this ingredient.


    Poudre des Fees (Fairy Powder):

    1 ounce Lubin's rice powder.
    3 ounces best, purest oxide of zinc.
    1/2 ounce carbonate of magnesia, finely powdered.
    20 grains boracic acid.
    2 drops attar of rose.

    When purchasing your ingredients ask the druggist to powder each
    separately in a mortar. First put your rice powder through a fine
    sieve, and then through bolting cloth. Do the same thing with the
    oxide of zinc, the magnesia and the boracic acid before adding them
    to the rice powder. When all are combined put twice through bolting
    cloth. After each sifting throw away any tiny particles that
    remain. It is very necessary that all the ingredients be made fine
    and soft and fluffy. Add the oil of rose last. By putting in the
    tiniest suggestion of finely powdered carmine you can get the cream
    powder, and by putting in still more you will have the rose or pink
    tint. While blonds, with clear, perfect skins, can use either the
    white or the pink very nicely, cream is the more acceptable color
    for brunettes.


    Consuelo Powder:

    5 ounces of talcum.
    5 ounces of rice flour.
    2-1/2 ounces of the best zinc oxide.
    2 drops each of oils of bergamot, ylang-ylang and neroli.

    The three main ingredients should be sifted over and over again,
    and if flesh color is desired, a little carmine must be added, the
    sifting continuing. Then add the perfumes and sift again, so as to
    avoid any lumps.

A formula for violet powder is given in the chapter on perfumes.


WRINKLES.

It doesn't matter whether or not you are afflicted with wrinkles, it's
an excellent thing to give them some attention. Freckles are bothersome
and provoking, and red noses make us as cross as black cats, but
wrinkles!--they are the worst of all, for with them comes the sickening
realization that the freshness of one's complexion is beginning to
fade, and that youth itself is slipping away.

It is before the lines really appear that they should be considered,
for then they're much more easily managed than when they--with their
sisters and their cousins and their aunts, to say nothing of grandmas
and babies--settle down for a nice long stay. Wrinkles are worse than
bogie men, and "they'll git you if yo' don't watch out!"

Wrinkles are unnecessary evils--anyway, until one gets to be a hundred
or so. That is, if you are so lucky as not to have troubles enough to
keep you awake six nights out of seven, which seems to be the case with
most people these days. Even then perhaps you can deceive yourself into
believing that life is one big, lovely, roseate dream after all. Worry
is a paragon of a wrinkle-maker. And, by the way, did you ever know
why?

It is not so much for the reason that screwing up the face traces lines
and seams in the skin as it is because the fretting upsets the stomach.
It has a most depressing effect on that hyper-sensitive organ. Haven't
you often noticed what a finicky, doleful sort of an appetite you have
whenever you are indulging in a fit of the blues? The physiological
explanation is the very close alliance of the great sympathetic nerves,
which make up a little telegraph line more perfect and complete than
any yet constructed by man. The poor, worn brain is fagged and tired.
This fact is immediately communicated to the stomach, which, in true
sisterly fashion, mopes and sulks out of sheer sympathy.

Then, of course, with an unruly digestion, all sorts of complications
begin. The eyes get dull, the face thin and sallow, the complexion bad,
and the flesh flabby. At that stage the wrinkles, with their aforesaid
relatives, sail in upon the scene. And there you are! And--ten chances
to one--it's a cheerful time you'll have getting rid of them.

That's why I say you must take them in hand before they arrive, and
dole out discouragement to them by correct living and the necessary
facial massage.

The skin of the face wrinkles exactly for the same reason and by the
same mechanism that the skin of an apple wrinkles. The pulp of the
fruit under the skin begins to shrink and contract as the juices dry
up, and, quite naturally, the skin which was once taut and smooth, now
being much too large for the contents, puckers up and lays itself in
tiny folds. It's the same way with the skin of the face. When the
subcutaneous fat of the cheeks and brow--which, when we are young and
plump and rosy, is abundant--begins to be absorbed and to gradually
disappear, then the cuticle straightway starts in to shrivel and fall
into minute lines.

So it is wisdom to anticipate the coming of wrinkles and lay plans to
ward them off. Live after strict rules of hygiene, as told in the
chapters on Exercise, Baths, Sleep, Diet, and Dress. Have a tonic
method of living. Invigorate your muscles and the skin of your body by
sponge baths and brisk drying with a coarse bath towel. Friction is a
great beautifier. Eat only that food which is going to do you some
good, and take your exercise with regularity. Add to this a happy,
hopeful disposition of mind and a big fat jar of pure, properly-made
skin food, then read the chapter on massage and follow the instructions
given therein. If any wrinkles or crow's feet come and lodge with you
after that, then I'll take off my hat to their perseverance.


RECIPES FOR THE COMPLEXION.

In compounding face creams one cannot be too careful and painstaking.
It is much like preparing a salad or a charlotte russe, either of which
can be utterly ruined by lack of care--or too much fussing. The creme
marquise is especially difficult for the woman who tumbles things
together in a haphazard fashion. Unless compounded just so carefully,
it will be likely to crumble, but when done according to directions it
makes a cosmetic that is absolutely unrivaled. The other creams which
follow this formula are more easily made for the reason that they
contain less fats and are therefore less apt to separate from the
rose-water. The creme marquise is a whiter, harder preparation than any
of the others.


    Creme Marquise:

    1/4 ounce of white wax.
    2-1/2 ounces of spermaceti.
    2-1/2 ounces of oil of sweet almonds.
    1-1/2 ounces of rose-water.
    1 drop attar of rose.

    Shave the wax and spermaceti, and melt in a porcelain kettle. Add
    the almond oil and heat slightly, but do not let boil. Remove from
    the stove and add the rose-water, to which the perfume has been
    added. Beat until creamy, and put in jars. Cease beating before the
    mass becomes really hard. Be sure that your druggist weighs the wax
    carefully, for too much of this ingredient will spoil the creme by
    making it too firm. This delightful preparation should be applied
    immediately after washing the face, but can be used at any time. It
    is absolutely harmless. Get the best materials--and see that your
    almond oil is the real thing instead of a cheap imitation, which
    acts almost as poison to the skin.


    Strawberry Cream:

    White wax, 1/2 ounce.
    Spermaceti, 1/2 ounce.
    Sweet almond oil, 2-1/2 ounces.
    Strawberry juice, 3/4 of an ounce.
    Benzoin, 3 drops.

    Take large fresh berries. Wash and drain thoroughly. Macerate and
    strain the juice through a piece of muslin. Heat the white wax, the
    spermaceti and the oil of almonds. Remove from the fire and add the
    strawberry juice very quickly. Beat briskly till fluffy, adding the
    three drops of benzoin just as the mixture begins to cool. Put in
    jars and keep in a very cool place. This quantity will fill a
    three-ounce jar. Apply every night as a cold cream. This is
    particularly excellent for sunburn.


    Orange Flower Skin Food:

    Spermaceti, 1/2 ounce.
    White wax, 1/2 ounce.
    Sweet almond oil, 2 ounces.
    Lanoline, 1 ounce.
    Cocoanut oil, 1 ounce.
    Tincture benzoin, 3 drops.
    Orange flower water, 1 ounce.

    Melt the first five ingredients in a porcelain kettle. Take from
    the fire, and add the benzoin and the orange flower water, fluffing
    it with an egg-beater till cold. This recipe will make five ounces,
    quite enough to prepare at one time. For those who dislike oily
    creams it will be found delightful, as the skin absorbs it. The
    mission of the skin food is to do away with wrinkles. Massage must,
    of course, accompany its application. For hollow cheeks or dry,
    rough skin it is unexcelled. Its fattening qualities plumpen the
    tissues and so raise the lines of the face and gradually obliterate
    them.


    Clover Cream:

    Spermaceti, 1 ounce.
    White wax, 1 ounce.
    Oil sweet almonds, 5 ounces.
    Rose-water, 1-3/5 ounces.
    Powdered borax, 20 grains.
    Essence of clover, 5 drops.

    Dissolve the borax in the rose-water and add the essence of clover.
    Melt the white wax, the spermaceti and the oil of almonds, using a
    porcelain kettle, as tin or iron is injurious to the oils. When
    melted remove from the heat and add the rose-water (all at once).
    Then beat quickly with an egg-beater until the mixture is cold and
    firm. It is impossible for the rose-water to separate from the oils
    if directions are carefully followed. The recipe given above will
    fill an eight-ounce jar, so perhaps one-half the quantity should be
    tried at first.


    Camphor Cold Cream: Take one-half ounce each of spermaceti and
    white wax, melt and add three and one-fourth ounces of oil of sweet
    almonds, then add one-fourth ounce of camphor, broken into small
    pieces, and stir until dissolved. Then pour in one and one-half
    ounces of distilled water in which fifteen grains of borax have
    been dissolved. Stir until well mixed and beginning to thicken,
    then add four drops oil of rose, one drop oil of rose geranium, one
    drop oil of ylang-ylang, two drops tincture of musk, and two drops
    tincture of civet. Continue to beat until cold.


    Cold Cream:

    White wax, 1/2 ounce.
    Spermaceti, 1/2 ounce.
    Orange flower water, 2 ounces.
    Almond oil, 4 ounces.

    Melt all together gently and pour into cups to cool. When cold pour
    off the water, remelt, and pour into jars to keep.


    Oatmeal Lotion:

    Two tablespoonfuls fine oatmeal.

    Boil and strain. When cold add

    One dessertspoonful of wine (white Rhine preferred), and the juice
    of one lemon.

    Fluff over the face before going to bed, not wiping it all away.
    This is excellent for sallow complexion.


    Rose Toilet Vinegar: This toilet vinegar is made by taking one
    ounce of dried rose leaves, pouring over them half a pint of white
    wine vinegar, and letting stand for two weeks. Then strain,
    throwing rose leaves away, and add half a pint of rose-water. It
    can be used either pure or diluted, and is especially good for an
    oily skin.


    Lavender Lotion (to soften water):

    4 ounces of alcohol.
    1 ounce of ammonia.
    1 dram oil of lavender.

    Add one teaspoonful to two quarts of water.


    A stringent Wash: Place in a half-pint bottle one ounce of cucumber
    juice, half fill bottle with elderflower water, and add two
    tablespoonfuls of eau de cologne. Shake well and add very slowly
    one-half ounce simple tincture of benzoin, shaking the mixture now
    and then. Fill bottle with elderflower water.

    This is very whitening, but its best mission is that of making
    large, open pores less noticeable and disfiguring.


    Cucumber Milk:

    Oil of sweet almonds, 2 ounces.
    Fresh cucumber juice, 10 ounces.
    White castile soap, 1/4 ounce.
    Essence of cucumbers, 3 ounces.
    Tincture of benzoin, 38 drops.

    Get the juice by slicing the cucumbers, unpeeled, boiling in a
    little water and straining carefully. The essence is made by mixing
    the juice with equal parts of alcohol. First dissolve the soap in
    the essence, add the juice, then the sweet almond oil very slowly,
    and finally the benzoin. Shake well for half an hour if possible.
    This is a most effective remedy for tan and sunburn.




                          CARE OF THE HAIR

    Her luxuriant hair--it was like the sweep of a swift wing in
    visions.--_Willis._


Pretty hair can redeem a whole host of irregular features. With little
waves and kinks, and clinging, cunning tendrils that lie close to the
temples, a "crown of glory" will transform an ordinarily plain woman
into one passably good to look upon. If you doubt this, just create a
mental picture of yourself in the last stages of a shampoo! Isn't it
awful? The damp, straight locks hanging in one's eyes, and the long,
fluffy strands, that aren't fluffy at all but as unwavy as a shower
bouquet of macaroni, and the tag ends and whisps sprouting out here and
there like a box full of paint brushes six ways for Sundays--well, one
is always mentally thankful at such times that one's "dearest and best"
isn't anywhere around to behold the horrible sight. But after awhile
the long, damp tresses are patted and fussed over until they are dry,
and then they're combed out and curled up and kinked and twisted, and,
oh, my countrymen, what a change is there! The harsh lines of the mouth
are softened, the eyes look bright and pretty, the complexion comes out
in all its sweetness like the glorious rainbow of a week ago.

It makes all the difference in the world!

But of course you will straightway exclaim: "That's all right to say
about those lucky girls who have nice long tresses, but how about us
poor mortals whose 'crown' consists of eighteen hairs of eighteen
different lengths, and all of them falling out as fast as they can?" To
be sure, conditions do--once in a while--alter cases. But I claim, and
always will claim--till the day comes when beauty matters won't matter
at all--that every woman can have pretty hair if she will take the time
and use the good, uncommon sense which seems necessary to acquire it.

You know, and I know, and every other woman knows, that women treat
their hair as they treat their watches--to unpardonable abuse. Of
course, one's hair isn't dropped on the sidewalk or prodded with
stickpins until the mainspring breaks, but it is subjected to even
deeper and more trying insults. One night, when the little woman is in
a real good, amiable mood, the tresses are carefully taken down,
brushed, doctored with a nice "smelly" tonic, patted caressingly and
gently plaited in nice little braids. The next night it is crimped
until each individual hair has acute curvature of the spine; then it is
burned off in chunks and triangles and squares; it is yanked out by the
handfuls, it is wadded and twisted and tugged at and built up into an
Eiffel tower, and--after a few hours of such torture--the little woman
takes out the sixty odd hairpins, shakes it loose, gets every hair into
a three-ply tangle of its own, and then hops into bed! When she gets up
in the morning she pulls out and combs out more hair than she can make
grow in after seven months' careful treatment.

I tell you that is the one great trouble with women. They will not
stick to one particular method. If they feel like fussing and coddling
they will, but if they're tired or cross or in a hurry to get to sleep,
well, they just let their hair take care of itself. One's tresses need
regular care just as do plants or babies or people. Make up your mind
that you have hit upon the best way to treat your hair and then stick
to it, no matter whether school keeps or not.

To disentangle the hair use only a coarse comb, being sure that every
tooth is smooth and firm, so that it will not tear or split the silky
fibers. The fine comb is a thing of horror, and has no place upon the
dressing-table. It irritates the scalp, bringing forth a prosperity
year crop of dandruff and attendant unhappiness. Added to this, it
splits the hair shafts and injures the roots.

Brushing the hair is sadly overestimated. A dozen or two strong strokes
each night will remove the day's dust and dirt, will promote
circulation and sweep out flaky matter. The brushing must be done
firmly but gently, and not with the violent methods of a carpet
sweeping machine. Really, it is simply appalling the way some women
dress their hair. A few tugs and yanks with a comb of uneven, unsmooth
teeth, a scattering brushing back of scolding locks, some singes here
and there with a red-hot curling iron, a twist, a roll, a pat and the
application of a dozen hairpins, and the hairdressing for the day is
done.

Instead, the comb should be used with gentleness, not dug into the
scalp, as is the practice of some mistaken beskirted mortals. There is
an old saying to this effect: "Wash the scalp, but not the hair; comb
the hair, but not the scalp," which saying, I leave to you, is good
enough to paste in one's hat--or rather on the back of one's hair
brush.

After the brushing each night it is an excellent plan to part the hair
into small strands and wipe off with a cloth slightly moistened. This
is a sort of sponge bath which tones and invigorates the growth.

Combs should never be washed, but cleaned with a stout thread. Brushes,
however, must have frequent washings in warm ammonia water, taking care
to keep the backs dry. They should never be put in the sunlight when
wet, but left to dry in an open window.

Curling irons certainly do heaps of damage. Any woman who has ever
found herself suddenly bereft of a nice fluffy bang, and in its place a
stubby little burned-off fringe, will say that this is true, while
those numerous hair-crimping girls who have known the humiliating and
painful experience of having a hot curling iron do frolics down their
backs can add startling testimony, and, what is more, show disfiguring
scars as proof.

If the iron is used carefully and at proper heat, the hair is not
injured. But certain it is that when the iron is smoking-hot it kills
the life and lovely texture of the hair. Besides, how very ugly and
unkempt those burned little ends look! It was surely not of such that
Pope wrote:

    Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare,
    And beauty draws us with a single hair.

Soft papers in which the short locks are wound is a good method for the
girl who singes her top-knot every time she tries to curl a few little
tendrils. Kid curlers are all right, providing the hair does not become
entangled in the small ends, and so have to be torn when the hair is
taken down. There is a certain secret in the hair-curling process which
is too intangible for written description. The hair must not be wound
tightly and the effect must be loose, fluffy and natural.

The great necessity for keeping the hair perfectly trimmed is to rid it
of the split ends, for hair cannot be nice under such conditions. When
the nourishment within each hair shaft does not extend the full length,
then the hair cracks into several finer hairs, and one of these perhaps
resumes the growth. That leaves a rough, bad shaft. The best way to
keep the hair clipped properly is to twist it in rolls and to singe off
all the little ends that stick out.

It is almost impossible to state positively how often the hair should
be shampooed. Oily hair needs a thorough washing every two weeks, while
drier tresses should not be given a bath oftener than once a month.
Half the reason for falling hair, or hair that seems never to grow, is
caused by improper shampooing. The scalp must be kept scrupulously
clean. And I doubt very much whether the soap and soiled water can be
thoroughly rinsed out without the use of running water, the bath spray
being the most convenient means of getting this. How often, after
washing one's hair, one finds a white, sticky substance clinging to the
teeth of the comb! This should never be, and the hair must be
continually washed until it is fluffy and soft and absolutely without
any suggestion of the shampoo. When the hair is very oily a
dessertspoonful of ammonia and a pinch of borax should be added to two
quarts of warm water. This will soften the water and make the soap more
easily rinsed out of the hair. The liquid verbena soap makes a
delightful shampoo. Recipe can be found at the end of this chapter.

When shampooing, rub the lather through the strands gently, and with
the finger tips remove all the little particles of dust and dandruff
which may be clinging to the scalp. And may I gently suggest that you
do not go at the task as if you were scrubbing a grease spot out of a
rug? You must neither dig the scalp with your nails nor wring out your
hair as you would a wash-rag. Try not to get your hair into a more
mussed-up and tangled condition than is absolutely necessary. After
using the bath spray liberally dry with warm towels, then--if
possible--get some one to vigorously massage the scalp. This will
almost invariably prevent one from taking cold. Never begin combing out
your locks until they are nearly dry. A sun bath of twenty minutes is a
good tonic.

Occasionally an egg shampoo is more beneficial than the usual one of
soap. This is especially true when one has just recovered from a fever
or when one's scalp is in an unhealthy condition or afflicted with
dandruff. The rosemary formula is very effective.

Dandruff is nearly always the result of neglect. If the scalp is washed
as frequently as it should be, dandruff is not so likely to accumulate,
although it is a perfectly natural formation. When the hair is
excessively oily or the scalp unusually crowded with dandruff, the
weekly shampoo should not be neglected.

Blond hair should always be washed with the yolk of an egg, as that
will make it keep its golden tints. Mixing the egg with a pinch of
borax and a pint of warm water is a good plan.

Hair dyeing is one of the mistakes of unwise femininity. All dyes
containing either mercury or lead are very dangerous. But why should
women dye their hair? Goodness only knows. One might as well ask why
women fib about their age, or why women shop three hours just to buy a
pair of dress shields. There are some questions of life which we are
destined never to solve. There is nothing lovelier than white hair.
Combine with it a fine complexion and a pair of animated brown eyes and
you have as picturesque a beauty as ever awakened emotions in the heart
of man. But, nevertheless, women moan and wail over every stray gray
hair. They go off downtown and proceed to lug home a cartload of
mysterious bottles which they keep religiously away from hubby's
investigating eye. I won't tell the result of the experience, for it is
too well known. It is a certain episode through which half the women of
forty years have passed--sooner or later. When comes the desire to
transform those little threads of silver into deeper shades remember
the charming lines of Bancroft:

    "By common consent gray hairs are a crown of glory, the only object
    of respect that can never excite envy."

Unknown washes, as well as dyes, do great mischief. Good health,
wholesome food and proper care of the scalp are the three most
important essentials toward beautiful and luxuriant hair. There are
some simple lotions, harmless and easily prepared, which will assist
the growth and nourish the roots.


DRESSING THE HAIR.

It has always been a double-turreted wonder to me why romancers are
forever harping about heroines with "tresses in artistic disarray." All
the tresses in such condition that I have ever gazed upon have looked
most slovenly and ofttimes positively waggish. How any one can think
that a girl with a tangled braid hanging down her back, a little wad
over one ear, a ragged, jagged fringe edging its way into her eyes and
half a dozen little wisps standing out here and there in haystack
fashion--how one can even fancy that such a head as that is pretty is
more than I can explain. Clothes may make the man, but rational
hairdressing goes a pretty long way toward making the woman. Observe my
lady in curl-papers and my lady togged up for a dinner party. Comment
is unnecessary, for you have all seen her--or yourselves, which is
quite the same thing.

Those fortunate women to whom straight hair is becoming should never
indulge in curls. There is nothing prettier than hair drawn loosely
away from the face. It leaves displayed those lovely lines on the
temples about which artists and poets go mad. As to the style of
dressing one's hair, that must be left solely to one's taste. If the
lines of the head, the shape of the face and the hair itself are
studied a bit the solution of the most becoming coiffure is very easily
solved.

A head that looks like a wax image in a hairdresser's window is
certainly anything but pretty. Neither is it artistic, for the
correctly crimped and waved side-locks are too mechanically planned to
look at all natural. To nearly all women the plainer the mode of
hairdressing the more becoming it is. That does not mean that you
should comb your hair straight back and wad it into a funny little
bump. Quite the contrary. Comb it back if you will, but have the coil
loose and graceful. It is very bad for the hair either to be pulled
back tightly or to be closely arranged. Ventilation is necessary, and,
by the way, caressing and smoothing the hair with the fingers is a good
tonic for its growth and beauty.

A few loose short curls about the face seem necessary to the good looks
of the majority of women, but the heavy bang was shelved years ago.
Wasn't it hideous? But perhaps you are too young to remember. Get out
the family album, then, and see for yourself.

[Illustration: MRS. JOHN JACOB ASTOR]

There are certain rules for hairdressing that were just as good in
Eve's hairpinless age as they will be a hundred years hence. By keeping
these rules in mind you can make a picture or a cartoon of yourself,
just as you wish. The one thing to remember is that the lines and
proportions of the face must be carefully considered and a mode of
hairdressing adopted which will lessen and not exaggerate those lines
and proportions. Be alert to your defects, and do not forget that what
may be essentially appropriate for one woman will be dismally
inappropriate for another.

Suppose a woman has a square, heavy jaw. She is just the one who flings
defiance at prevailing fashions and clings to the dear old straight
bangs deep over her eyes. The heavy chin makes a straight line, the
heavy fringe makes another, and the result is that her face is as
perfectly square as rules and measurements could make it. Let this
deluded lady shake herself together and mend her ways. By making the
top of her head appear wider the broad jaws will--according to all laws
of reasoning--seem to be narrower. A few dainty puffs towering up
prettily and a soft, fluffy fringe left flying out over the ears will
not only add grace to the forehead but lighten the heaviness of the
lower part of the face. A bow of ribbon or any other perky little
headdress will detract from the straight cross lines.

Then there is the woman with the sharp chin, the woman of the
wedge-shaped face. She invariably wears her hair over her ears and so
elongates the V lines of her chin. By arranging the hair close to the
sides of her head and putting it in a soft low coil on the top a much
more pleasing effect can be got.

The same rule for the heavy-chinned woman applies to the chubby,
fat-faced feminine mortal. The "roly-poly" visage looks less
"roly-poly" when the front hair is drawn back and up in pompadour style
and the long tresses piled into a nice little tower. The pompadour mode
of hairdressing also holds good with the girl whose eyes are set too
high. This helps along the old-time idea that the eyes of a woman
should be in the middle of her head--that is, that they must be set
midway between the bottom of the chin and the top of the hair.

For the women with eyes set too low an exactly opposite arrangement
should be adopted. Instead of drawing the hair away from the face,
bring it down to it. Part the hair and let it come low on the temples
and brow.

I have never seen anything or anybody look much funnier than does a
woman with a sharp-pointed nose and a pysche knot. The nose bumps out
in the front and the wad of hair sticks out in the back with a
similarity that is positively convulsing to any one with half an eye
for the humorous. It gives one an idiotic longing to take a measuring
rule and find out the exact distance from "tip to tip." Another waggish
picture is made by the snub-nosed girl with her hair arranged à la
Madonna. These long hirsute lamberquins on either side of her face make
the poor little nose appear even smaller, like unto a wee dab of putty
or a diminutive biscuit.

Don't caricature your facial defects. Don't get the lines of your head
and face "out of drawing." Don't twist your hair up after every new
fashion that chances to come along. Study the contour of your head from
every side and then adopt that style of hairdressing which at once
brings out the good points and conceals the bad ones. The most becoming
coiffure is the one that gives the most artistic balance to the face.
What will do for the fat, dumpy Miss Plump will make a human joke out
of the lank, willowy Miss Slender.


SUPERFLUOUS HAIR.

If there is one blemish more than another that gnaws out our very heart
supports and gives a good hard case of nervous chills, it is this. What
woman can look at another so afflicted without a feeling of deep pity?
There is something so masculine and altogether impossible in a bearded
lady, even if she be merely a poor imitation of the real exhibited
thing.

Unless proper means are taken to abolish it, superfluous hair should be
left religiously alone. The more it is pulled out or irritated the
lustier and heartier will be the growth that follows. As for cutting
it--well! who does not know what the result is sure to be? A
challenging Kaiser William mustache, maybe, or perchance a Herr Most
style of hirsute trimmings. In applying creams of any sort to the face,
it is wisdom to leave the upper lip untouched with the cosmetic,
although one may feel perfectly safe in using home-made emollients
which do not contain animal fats. Heat, rubbing and friction are all
conducive to the pests, and such oils and fats as vaseline, glycerin,
olive oil and mutton tallow or suet should never be used. Depilatories
likewise should be shunned. The powdered preparations are usually
composed either of sulphite of arsenic or caustic lime, and merely burn
the hair off to the surface of the skin. It seems quite impossible for
any such powder to kill or dissolve the hair roots without injury. The
sticky plasters, made of galbanum or pitch, and which are known as
"heroic" measures, are equally undesirable, since they are not
permanent cures any more than the depilatory powders. The worst feature
of these cures is that for every hair pulled out or burnt off a coarser
one takes its place, and for every tiny, downy growth a fully developed
hair appears. Of course, the plaster removes this soft lanuginous
growth with the hardier one, and for that reason should be left
severely alone. The tweezers are therefore less objectionable than the
plaster, but this is such a painful way of getting happiness that I
cannot advise it.

There is no doubt but that electrolysis is the best cure. The only
objection to this is that an incompetent operator will cause her patron
considerable pain, and will also be likely to scar the skin. A dainty
little woman who has been an expert in this work for years tells me
that it is not at all necessary for the beauty patient to hold the
little handles--I know not the technical term--of the battery, although
this causes a little more careful work on the part of the operator. At
the same time, it makes the operation less painful, and really not at
all hard to endure. The general desire to have the work done quickly
causes the scars. If the hairs are picked out here and there and not
close together the skin can heal and the rest of the horrors be
destroyed at the next sitting. To remove a very prolific growth several
"seances" will be necessary. But the result will be clear, unscarred
skin, and no future chance of the wee worries coming back to bring
heart-hurts and mental agony.

To those who have any timidity at all about the electric needle, there
is peroxide of hydrogen and diluted ammonia. Use one as a lotion one
night and the other the next. This will often prove a permanent cure,
while a better, less noticeable state is certain. The remedy is one,
however, that will take time and patience. The superfluous hair will
gradually become light-colored and almost white, and the ammonia will,
if used persistently, deaden the growth. Do not expect the bleach to
take effect right away, for it won't. If the skin is at all irritated
rub on pure, thick cream.


RECIPES FOR THE HAIR.

    Liquid Verbena Soap: Cut in small pieces one-half pound of pure
    imported castile soap. Put in porcelain kettle with two quarts of
    warm water and dissolve by boiling. When cold it should be of the
    consistency of rather thin cream; if thicker, add more water. Stir
    in one-fourth pint of alcohol and let stand several days in a warm
    room. All the alkali and impurities will settle to the bottom of
    the bottle, leaving the liquid as clear as crystal. Pour off
    carefully, leaving the residue for kitchen purposes. Perfume with a
    few drops of oil of verbena, or any scent one may prefer. A small
    quantity of this used in the shampoo is delightfully cleansing.


    Shampoo for Dandruff:

    Yolk of one egg.
    One pint of warm water.
    One ounce spirits of rosemary.

    Follow with thorough washing with liquid verbena soap.


    Egg Shampoo: Shake the yolk of an egg in a pint of alcohol, strain
    and bottle. To a bowl of warm water add two tablespoonfuls of the
    liquid.


    Dandruff Cure and Hair Tonic:

    Forty-eight grains resorcin.
    One-fourth ounce glycerine.
    Alcohol sufficient to fill a two-ounce bottle.

    Apply every night to the scalp, rubbing it in well. This is good
    for falling hair.


    Lemon Hair Wash (for blond tresses):

    One ounce salts of tartar.
    Juice of three lemons.
    One quart of water.

    Apply a cupful to the hair and scalp just before the shampoo.


    Quinine Tonic for Oily Hair:

    One-half pint alcohol.
    One-half pint water.
    Thirty grains of quinine.

    Apply every other night, rubbing into the scalp.


    Hair-curling Fluid: Mix one and one-half drams of gum tragacanth
    with three ounces of proof spirits and seven ounces of water.
    Perfume with a drop or two of attar of rose. If too thick add a
    little rose-water.




                              THE HANDS

    "I take thy hand, this hand,
    As soft as dove's down, and as white as it;
    Or Ethiopia's tooth, or the fann'd snow,
    That's bolted by the northern blast twice o'er."

    --_Shakespeare._


Pretty hands--like sweet tempers and paragons of husbands--are largely
a matter of care and cultivation. Much more so, in fact, than most of
us are aware. While tapering fingers and perfect palms count for
considerable, the general beauty of the hand lies not in its correct
outline so much as in the whiteness and velvety softness of the skin
and the perfectly trimmed, well-kept nails. I have seen hands as plump
as rotund little butter rolls, with fingers like wee sausages, and I
have also gazed upon long, slender hands as perfect of form and
proportion as any hand ever put into a Gainsborough masterpiece. And
both have been called beautiful. Of course, we all know that the
Gainsborough model is perfection, but nevertheless we can content
ourselves with the knowledge that really ideal hands are as rare as a
few other nice things in this world, and that we can struggle along
very well with our good imitations providing we are able to keep them
clean and well groomed.

The poets have raved their wildest over the beauty of women's hands
from the time when Adam had his first desire to write jingles--if he
ever was so silly--to the present day of Kipling's entrancing verse.
Shakespeare in his many tributes to the unfortunate young Juliet spoke
of the "white wonder" of her hands, and there has probably never lived
a versifier who has not, at one time or another, gone into paroxysms of
poetry over "lovely fingers," and "dainty palms," and all that. And I
don't wonder, do you? for a woman's hand--when it is beautiful--is
certainly a most adorable thing. It should be soft and yielding and
caressing--with small, dainty joints, a satiny surface and carefully
manicured nails of shell-pink tint.

First of all, tight sleeves and very tight gloves must be condemned.
Next, relaxation and repose are to be cultivated. A beautiful hand that
fidgets continually is not to be admired for anything beyond its
ceaseless efforts to be doing. Ben Jonson once said: "A busy woman is a
fearful nuisance," and it's more than likely that he had in mind some
fussy dame whose nervous fingers were everlastingly picking at things
and continually on the wiggle.

The hand can easily be taught to move gracefully. The ordinary Delsarte
movements of swinging the wrist backward and forward, of raising the
hands high above the head, and the general exercises for the
cultivation of gesture and expression are all good and can bring about
the habit of spontaneous relaxation and activity. No gestures at all,
though, are better than awkward ones.

Large joints are very unsightly. It is said of the Countess of Soissons
that she never closed her hands for fear of hardening the joints.
Funny, isn't it, to what extremes those old-time ladies went? And yet
the Nordauites say we are degenerates!

Of Mme. Crequy it is recorded that "she was a woman most resolute," and
in proof of that assertion the chronicler says that if no lackey were
within call she opened the doors herself--without fear of blistering
her hands! It was the desire for dainty, delicate white hands that
first gave nice little boys the task of trotting after stately dames
and carrying my lady's prayerbook or fan. Fancy one of those
porcelain-like creatures of helplessness hanging onto the strap in a
State Street cable car! Perish the thought! And what a jolly time Mme.
Crequy would have had could she have indulged in a Christmas shopping
scrimmage. After a few tussels with the swing doors that bar our
entrance to the big stores, Mme. Crequy would have blistered her hands
to the queen's taste and the poultice stage. There's no chance of a
doubt about that.


BATHING THE HANDS.

With the hands, as with almost everything else in the strife toward
beauty culture, cleanliness is the first great essential. You cannot
keep your hands smooth and pretty without an occasional hard scrubbing.
Unless the hands are unusually moist naturally, hot water should not be
used. Have the bath tepid--just warm enough to be cleansing. Say a fond
farewell to all highly-scented soaps and bring yourself down to a
steady and constant faith in the pure white imported castile. I doubt
very much if there is a soap manufactured which can equal this for its
harmlessness and purity. The best way is to buy a large bar, letting it
dry thoroughly, and cutting off small slices as they are needed.

Never fail to let the soapy water out of the basin and fill again with
a clear rinsing bath. When drying be sure that the towel is not coarse
or rough, and that it absorbs every particle of moisture. Very gently
press back the cuticle around the nail. A little orange-wood stick or a
piece of ivory will assist you when the skin is inclined to stick close
to the nail. Let the hands have their most cleansing bath just before
you go to bed, and then is the time to apply your cold cream or
cosmetic jelly, which--in nearly all cases--is all that is needed to
keep the hands soft and nice.

Wearing gloves at night is very uncomfortable and quite unnecessary.
Lotions can be put on an hour or so before one goes to bed, and by that
time they are usually pretty well absorbed into the cuticle.

If the hands are red use lemon juice, applying cold cream as soon as
the juice is dry. For callous spots rub with pumice stone.


CARE OF THE FINGER NAILS.

There has been a great change in manicuring methods of late. The old
steel implements of torture are banished, and the ivory instruments
have long since taken their place. Steel should never be put to the
fingers, except to use the scissors when the nails are too long, or to
trim the skin in order to free it from hangnails. The best operators no
longer cut away the cuticle about the base of the nail, and the
manicure who does that nowadays is not a student of the French method
of manicuring, which supplanted every other some time ago. The same
effect--and better, in fact--is got by simply pressing back the flesh
with the end of an ivory or orange-wood instrument. The gouging and
snipping, so irritating to a person of nerves, is thus avoided.
However, if you only know how, you can manicure your nails at home and
they will look every bit as well as if you trotted downtown and spent
half a day and a nice big dollar.

Fill a china wash basin with a suds of warm water and castile soap.
Soak the hands for five minutes. With an old soft linen towel push back
the skin around the nails. If there are hangnails snip them away
carefully. Cutting the cuticle at the base of the nail was a barbaric
feature of a new science which disappeared when it became more rational
and refined. Never, under any circumstances, must the inside of the
nail be scraped with a sharp instrument. Another thing to be avoided is
the vulgar application of pink nail cosmetics. Who has not seen a
pretty hand made hideous by nails all gummed up with red paste? Oh,
yes, and claw-like nails! They, too, have been "called in," now that
progress, good sense and civilization go marching on at a two-step
pace.

The nails should be trimmed the same shape as the finger tips, and left
neither too long nor too short. There's a happy medium that is easily
discovered, because of its usefulness, its convenience, and its
artistic beauty. A too-highly polished surface is also a vulgarity
invented by the old-time manicure. A little powder rubbed briskly on
the nail with a heavily padded polisher is a great improvement, but
when the nails shine with door-knob brilliancy it's high time to call a
halt. As for jagged, uneven nails--there's no excuse for them.


RECIPES FOR THE HANDS.

Cosmetic Jelly: Take thirty grains of gum tragacanth, soak in seven
ounces of rose-water for two days, strain through muslin and add
one-half ounce each of glycerin and alcohol, previously mixed. This
dries in a moment after application.


    Glycerin Balsam:

    White wax, one-half ounce.
    Spermaceti, one ounce.
    Oil of sweet almonds, four and one-half ounces.
    Glycerin, one and one-half ounces.
    Oil of rose geranium, eight drops.

    Melt the oils. Remove from fire and beat in the glycerin and
    perfume. Stir briskly until cold and white.


    Creme Duchesse:

    Benzoinated mutton tallow, three ounces.
    Oil of sweet almonds, one ounce.
    Glycerin, two drams.
    Rose-water, two drams.
    Oil rose geranium, twenty drops.

    Heat the tallow and oil of almonds in one vessel and the other
    three ingredients in another. Mix the two and stir until cold. On
    account of the mutton tallow, which might possibly cause a growth
    of superfluous hair, this cream is not desirable as a face
    cosmetic. The benzoinated mutton tallow can be made by taking
    one-half pound of the tallow and one-half ounce of the benzoin, and
    keeping at a high temperature until the alcohol has completely
    evaporated. Strain through muslin.


    Almond Meal:

    Orris root in fine powder, four ounces.
    Wheat flour, four ounces.
    White castile soap, powdered, one ounce.
    Powdered borax, one ounce.
    Oil of bitter almonds, ten drops.
    Oil of bergamot, one fluid dram.
    Tincture of musk, one-half fluid dram.
    Mix well and pass through a sieve.


    To make the hands soft: Take one quart of warm water, and in it
    soak one-half pound of oatmeal over night, then strain and add one
    tablespoonful of lemon juice and one teaspoonful each of olive oil,
    rose-water, cologne, glycerin and diluted ammonia. Rub into the
    skin three times a day.


    To plumpen the hands: One-fourth ounce tincture of benzoin, eight
    ounces of rose-water, and four ounces of refined linseed oil. Rub
    in morning and night. This is equally nice for the neck and arms.


    Wash:

    Rose-water, three ounces.
    Bay rum, 2 ounces.
    Glycerin, one-half ounce.
    Borax, one-half ounce.


    Amandine:

    Blanched bitter almonds, three and one-half ounces.
    Powdered orris root, three-fourths ounce.
    Powdered white castile soap, three-fourths ounce.
    Glycerite of starch, one and three-fourths ounces.
    Clarified honey, one ounce.
    Oil of lavender flowers, one-half dram.
    Oil of bergamot, one-half dram.
    Oil of bitter almonds, four drops.

    Beat the blanched almonds with a small quantity of water to a
    smooth paste, add the other ingredients, and mix intimately. A
    solution of cochineal will color it.




                              THE EYES

    "Tell me, sweet eyes, from what divinest star did ye drink in your
    liquid melancholy?"--_Bulwer Lytton._


You would think, wouldn't you, that women would be good to themselves?
But they aren't. Not a bit of it! They abuse their complexions with
cosmetics as deadly as Mrs. Youngwife's first plum pudding. They "touch
up" their tresses with acids terrific enough to remove the spots of a
leopard. They paddle around in the rain like ducks in petticoats and
overshoes, and then sit down and chat with the woman next door for a
whole hour, so that the damp skirts can more properly inaugurate a
horrible cold that will settle down and stay for six weeks or more. And
their eyes--but that's a story in itself.

An oculist once said that every dot in a woman's veil was worth $5 to
the gentlemen of his profession. The eye is being constantly strained
to avoid these obstacles in its way, and, of course, it is weakened and
tortured. Think of a woman paying $1.50 for something that will, in
time, destroy her eyesight just as sure as fate! I leave it to you if
she's not a ninny? But women do these things in spite of
everything--except when the overworked eyes begin to pain, and then
they're glad enough to do almost anything for quick relief.

To keep one's eyes in good, healthy condition, rigid laws must be laid
down and carried out, though the heavens fall and the floods descend
and everything gets up and floats out into Lake Michigan. You must not
read in bed, and you must kiss good-by to that becoming black veil of
many dots and spots.

When you crawl out of bed in the morning do not dig your fists into
your eyes and rub and rub until, when at last you do open those sleepy
"windows of the soul," there is two of everything in the room, and big
black spots are whizzing through the air. Pressure on the eyeball
flattens the lens of the eye, and is sure to produce myopia, or
shortsightedness. If the eyes are not inflamed at all they should be
washed every morning in moderately cold water. In case of inflammation
an application of hot water and milk in equal parts will be found most
beneficial. Dry with a piece of old, soft linen, being sure to wipe
inward toward the nose so as not to issue invitations to those horrors
of womankind--crow's feet! Great care should be taken to keep all
foreign substances, especially soap and other irritants, from the
delicate skin of the lids, and particularly from the still more
sensitive eyeballs.

Gaslight brings direful havoc to good eyes, especially when the flame
is in a mood to flicker and splutter, as gas sometimes does. Take a
faint, wavering light and a piece of embroidery and you have as fine a
recipe for premature blindness as can be unearthed in a month of
Sundays. Sewing in the twilight is equally disastrous, as is the habit
of facing the light when writing or reading.

Few women realize the great need of resting the eyes occasionally, and
the unhappy result of trying them to the utmost limit. The very moment
that the eyeballs ache work should be suspended, no matter how
necessary or urgent. Rose-water and plantain in equal parts makes a
refreshing wash, and elderberry water is said to be good when there is
a disagreeable itching.

If the eyes are hot and watery use hot water which has been poured over
rose leaves. Witch hazel, that good old stand-by, is always refreshing
and is especially good when combined with camphor water. It is best
when applied at night and allowed to dry on the lids. Weak tea, which
is the eye tonic of our grandmothers, is also splendid.

A lotion that has been tried over and over again and found excellent
for tired and inflamed eyes, is made by rubbing one teaspoonful of
pulverized boracic acid in fifteen drops of spirits of camphor and
pouring over this two-thirds of a cup of hot water. Stir and strain,
and use as needed.

To brighten the eyes, steep good green tea in rose-water, soak bits of
absorbent cotton in the liquid, and bind on at night.

For granulated lids--and what is more maddening and painful?--make an
alum paste. This is done by rubbing a small piece of alum into the
white of an egg until a curd is formed. Apply to the lids upon retiring
at night, tying a piece of soft linen over the eyes.

So many girls say that they look a fright in eyeglasses, and ask if
they should wear them. Most certainly if the eyes are worn out and
failing. An oculist of the very best reputation should be consulted.
The fee does not exceed that of the quack, and the eyes are tested with
greater thoroughness. Glasses must be chosen with the utmost care, as
ill-fitting lenses can make a great deal of trouble. They are worse
than no glasses at all. Then, after eyeglasses are put on, they must be
changed now and then to suit the changing conditions of the sight. If
the eyes are not in a bad state, wearing spectacles for a few months
may strengthen them so that the glasses can be discarded. Also, if the
oculist knows his business as he should, he can give you much valuable
information concerning the care of your eyes.


THE GIRL WHO CRIES.

Now, about the girl who weeps. You don't see many of her these days.
Women used to think that big, sad eyes, just ready to send forth a
November gale of tears, was quite the proper thing, especially if there
chanced to be a man about. Women of experience--and who should really
know--say that tears are worn-out weapons for bringing masculinity to
time. We later-day mortals go in for everything that bespeaks strength
and backbone and a certain amount of strong-mindedness. When little
wifey wife begins to snivel nowadays, Mr. Husband doesn't upset the
furniture in his efforts to kiss away the tears. He is quite likely to
straighten up and say: "Oh, brace up, Pauline!" or else, "Go look in
the glass, my love, and see what a beautifully tinted nose you have!"

Yes, these are unromantic days, and there's no mistaking that fact!
There's little room for the weepy, wailing woman whose big, inflated
ambition is to dampen stunning neckties and deluge nicely laundered
shirt-fronts. Of course, women must have their good, comfortable cries
once in a while, but if they're wise they will retire to their own
rooms and have it out by themselves. This is not quite so satisfactory
as the old-time methods, for the reason that loneliness does not
inspire an exhibition of woe, and if one doesn't look out one is apt to
forget what one is boo-hooing about. But, take it all in all, it's
safer and more in keeping with fin de siecle rules and regulations.

It used to be that a man would say: "Well, it breaks me all up to see a
woman cry. I just can't stand it!" But now it's different. Instead, he
remarks wearily: "Anything but a yowling woman!"

The poets have written lots of lovely things about tears.
Notwithstanding that fact, there is an old German proverb: "Nothing
dries sooner than a tear," which isn't so bad. And Byron, you know,
said that the busy have no time for tears. Which, one must acknowledge,
is quite true when one thinks how everybody is up and hustling these
days. They're either wearing themselves down to skin and bone trying to
earn a living and to reside in a $60 flat with electric lights and a
real back yard, or else they're gradually killing themselves in an
effort to enjoy life and to have a good, jolly time all around.
However, that's neither here nor there. So let's jog along to more
timely topics.


THE EYELASHES.

Who hasn't bumped into the woman who is woefully wandering around minus
her eyelashes? My dear girls, you make the mistake of your life when
you begin to snip and clip and tinker with those pretty little curtains
that fall over your eyes. If eyelashes are cut in infancy they will
grow longer, but when one gets big enough to wear long skirts and to do
one's hair up high and wear a little bonnet with jet dofunnies on it,
there's not much of a show for eyelashes being made longer by trimming.
Touching the lashes with castor oil will increase the growth, and
moistened salt is also good.


THE EYEBROWS.

The eyebrows must be kept well brushed, and by persistent care can be
pinched into graceful lines. A heavy eyebrow can be trained with really
little effort. The brush should be small and rather stiff and firm. It
will at once cleanse and invigorate.

I cannot approve of penciled eyebrows. A professional in the "make-up"
art can touch the eyebrows here and there and bring a marvelous change.
But for the ordinary amateur it is better left undone. Besides, if
coloring is applied, it is only a short time before the hair will fall
out. And then won't you look pretty?

Eyebrows that meet over the nose are really very disfiguring, and the
cure is so simple that there is no need of this blemish, providing, of
course, that one can afford to take the necessary treatment. The
electric needle is the only sure and certain cure, and two sittings
will be sufficient to remove them for good and always. Be sure that you
patronize only the best operator, as you will surely regret it if you
don't.

Sage tea, with a few drops of alcohol added, will darken the eyebrows
without injury. Cocoanut oil makes an excellent tonic to increase the
growth.




                              THE TEETH

    "Some ask'd how pearls did grow, and where?
      Then spoke I to my girl,
    To part her lips, and shew me there
      The quarrelets of pearl."

    --_Herrick._


Femininity may be heir to many beauty woes, but ugly teeth is one
trouble which is often caused by sheer neglect. How many of us can
recall the days of childhood and girlhood without remembering the fibs
we told to escape cleaning our teeth? The blessed mothers implored and
begged and threatened and fussed, but we went our way joyful and
serene, making all due preparations for future unhappiness. But when
the girl began to think more about her personal appearance, and less of
the frivolities of advanced babyhood--oh, that we were all back at that
jolly time of life!--things were very different. The neglected teeth
got good attention then, but often the mischief had already been done.
I trust that the younger readers of this volume on beauty will remember
that this is hopelessly true, and something not to be forgotten--like
yesterday's toasted marshmallows or to-day's lesson in political
economy.

I have heard it said that too much brushing will injure the teeth, but
don't you believe it! The sooner you become accustomed to a moderately
stiff brush, that will do its work well and thoroughly, the better. All
foreign matter must be constantly removed, else decay will come as sure
as fate. A perfect state of cleanliness cannot be unless the teeth have
proper and constant attention. By this I do not mean that you must
cease all other occupations and take up that of eternal scrubbing.
Simply keep your teeth clean. Toothpicks must not be used excessively,
cold water should not be applied--or very hot, either, for that
matter--and all powders containing gritty substances must be tabooed.
It is quite unnecessary for me to add that you must not bite thread or
break nuts with your teeth, for all of us have had this bit of
information dinned into our ears since the time when "little children
should be seen and not heard" made life a worry and a care. I must
confess, however, that I have seen women untie knots and do various
bits of very remarkable mechanical work in this unique manner. My
experience has been so broad in this particular line of observation
that the expression "biting ten-penny nails" has never appeared to me
to be much overdrawn.

If one seriously desires fine, beautiful, white teeth--and who
doesn't?--one must treat them well. Just before going to bed, give them
a thorough cleaning, using waxed dental floss to remove any large
particles which may be between them. Use only a pure powder, the
ingredients of which you know. Be sure that all powder is well rinsed
away. See that your brush is kept scrupulously clean. Upon arising in
the morning rinse the mouth with diluted listerine. This makes an
excellent wash, especially when the gums are tender and liable to
bleed. Brush the teeth with tepid water. After breakfast, luncheon and
dinner, wash them again, letting the last cleansing be the most
searching and thorough. Once in a while it is wisdom to squeeze a
little lemon juice onto the brush. This will remove the yellow
appearance that often comes, and will also keep your teeth free from
tartar.

[Illustration: PRINCESS HENRY OF PLESS]

Every six months visit your dentist and have your teeth thoroughly
examined. The smallest cavities should be filled at once, and the pain
will be less than when these agonizing crevices get so large that you
feel that it's a flip-up between going to a dentist or jumping into the
lake. I know that most of us women are cowards when it comes to seances
in dentist chairs, but all such things--like house-cleaning and writing
letters to folks you don't like, and entertaining your husband's maiden
aunt--all these things are heaps nicer when they're well over with.
They are the events which we prefer should ornament the past instead of
the future.


    To Sweeten the Breath:

    Alcohol, twelve ounces.
    Cinnamon, two and one-half drams.
    Ginger, one-half dram.
    Essence of peppermint, one dram.
    Cloves, one-eighth dram.

    Mix and leave in infusion for two weeks in a tightly covered
    vessel; filter and bottle. Put one teaspoonful in a glass of water,
    and rinse the mouth with this every morning.

Recipe for violet tooth powder appears in the chapter on perfumes.




                             BATHING

    "Even from the body's purity, the mind
    Receives a secret sympathetic aid."

    --_Thomson._


The road to beauty has never been better known than it was to the Greek
and Roman women of centuries ago, yet they did not begin to have the
resources in cosmetic arts that we have now. But they bathed
incessantly, believing that cleanliness and health were the vital
points in their endeavors to be lovely. They went in for athletic games
to a large degree, and thereby hangs the secret of well-developed
figures and fine, stately carriage. Creamy lotions for the face, made
mostly of almond oil and the oil of cocoanut, were their complexion
solaces.

No doubt these beauties of the past centuries had more time than we for
their baths and games, but nevertheless let us make a strong, stern
effort to follow in the wake of their excellent teachings. Surely they
proved the wisdom of them in their own incomparable beauty.

Speaking of baths reminds me of Mme. Tallien, the beautiful French
woman, who lived in the time of the first Napoleon. She went in for
baths galore. Let me tell you what she did.

She gathered together all the strawberries or raspberries that the
corner grocery could supply. These were mashed to a pulp and the
bathtub filled. In this Mme. Tallien bathed until the idea of milk and
perfumed baths appeared to her fancy. There were many absurd and
useless fads those days as well as wise beautifying practices--just the
same state of affairs as now confronts us.

How much more rational than Mme. Tallien's notions were the methods of
Diana of Poitiers, who, history tells us, was fresh and lovely at
sixty-five! She left the berries and things to their rightful place,
the breakfast table, and each morning took a refreshing bath in a big
tub of clear rain-water. There has nothing yet been found, even in this
progressive age of electric elixirs and beautifying compounds, that can
equal this old-time aid to loveliness.

With the delightfully convenient bath-rooms, that even the most
ordinary apartment or flat has now, bathing is not a matter of trouble
and bother, but is, instead, an invigorating pleasure. I believe firmly
in the need of the daily bath. Not the thorough scrubbing, mind you,
but the quick sponging and the plunge. Let the thorough scrubbing be at
least twice during the week, and the five-minute plunges on other days.
Certain it is that one is much refreshed by the dipping luxury, and
still more certain is the fact that in no other way can the flesh be
kept healthy and firm. To those who are robust enough to stand it, the
cold bath is very good, but I would not advise it as a general thing
for women. For actual cleansing warm water and pure soap are necessary.
The shock of cold water immediately closes the pores, and they then
retain all the impurities that they should cast out. The temperature of
the water for the daily tepid bath should be about seventy-five or
eighty degrees, never more than that.

Whether or not the bath should be taken at night or in the morning is a
question which each must decide for herself. While it has often been
claimed that a bath at night will quiet the nerves and make one sleep
sweetly, I have known many persons who found it an utter impossibility,
as it caused them to be restless and wide-awake. One reason why the
bath before going to bed is desirable is that a soothing emollient can
be applied to the face, neck and hands, and thus will the skin be
whitened and beautified. After a warm plunge the pores of the skin are
opened and in excellent condition to absorb a good skin food or a
pleasant cream.

Bath bags are simply luxuries. They are pleasant ones, to be sure, but
they should never take the place of the flesh brush. It is best to
follow the scrubbing with a gentle washing with a bath bag, for the
almond meal and the orris root will give a charming, velvety appearance
to the skin. They should never be used a second time, as the bran
frequently becomes sour after a drying. So, if you are of an economical
turn of mind, you will make your bath bags very small, just large
enough to serve for one beauty bath.

A little starch thrown into the bath will sometimes whiten the skin.
Salt is not cleansing at all, but is very invigorating and a pleasant
tonic if one is worn out and languid. Turkish baths are splendid
complexion-makers, but must not be indulged in too frequently. If the
skin is dry and feverish, a dry bath--or massage--with oil of sweet
almonds will promote a healthy skin and bring about good circulation.

Constant bathing is the best remedy for excessive perspiration. But
this is not really effective unless a little benzoin is added to the
water, and the armpits well dried, and dusted with powder afterward. A
good bathing powder for this purpose is made of two and one-half drams
of camphor, four ounces of orris root and sixteen ounces of starch.
Reduce to a fine powder and tie in coarse muslin bags.

Remember that a coarse complexion, with black, disfiguring, open pores,
can be almost entirely cured by keeping the pores of the body free from
sebaceous matter. Have the bathtub carefully scoured each day, as the
oils and dust washed from the body invariably collect on the sides just
where the water reached. For the thorough cleansing have the tub half
filled with warm water. Use a coarse rag, a bath brush and large,
coarse towels. Before stepping into the water wash the face and neck
well with castile soap and a camel's-hair brush, this being
particularly necessary when the pores are clogged and acne has formed.
Rinse thoroughly and dry with gentle pats. When using the brush, do not
forget to let the scrubbing go well down onto the chest, lest your neck
will be bleached white and nice only part of the way.

Once in the tub, go over the body briskly with the flesh brush, using
plenty of good soap and not being at all sparing of elbow grease. This
scrubbing is very invigorating, for it exercises the muscles and stirs
up one's blood as well. After the scrubbing use the bath spray, letting
the water get gradually chilled. The drying should be brisk and quick,
and a warm robe of some sort must be donned while the hair is being
combed for the night, the teeth brushed and the face anointed with a
pure home-made cosmetic. Then go to bed. If you don't find a prettier,
fresher complexion with you next morning, then I'll miss my guess, and
will take up another occupation than that of doling out beauty advice.


    Quireda Bath Bags:

    One pound of fine oatmeal.
    One-half quart of new clean bran.
    Two-fifths pound powdered orris root.
    Two-fifths pound almond meal.
    One-fourth pound white castile soap, dried and powdered.
    One ounce primrose sachet powder.

    Dipped in tepid water and used as a sponge these bath bags make a
    velvety lather that softens and whitens the skin in a way that
    warms the cockles of one's heart.




                                DIET
_
    "Good food is the basis of good conduct, and consequently of
    happiness; more divorces are caused by hash than by
    infidelity."--_Hetty Green._


The object of eating is nourishment to build up the nerves, the
muscles, the blood, the tissues, and, in fact, the whole body. Judging
by woman's mad devotion to things she should not eat, this is a piece
of information which has never before been confided to her.

Let the food be well cooked, daintily served and delicately
flavored--for all that aids digestion with persons of sensibility and
refinement--but see to it that the ingredients are wholesome and of the
best and freshest qualities. A fifteen-cent lunch at one of the
tearooms, where dishes are prepared with some idea of the rules of
hygiene, is much better than a twenty-five-cent course dinner at a
cheap restaurant. This is a hint for the business girl who lunches
downtown.

Ripe fruits, served upon green leaves, are always appetizing, even if
there is nothing more than toast or rolls to go with them. Cereals,
such as rice, barley or hominy (they must be steamed for hours), served
with rich cream, make ideal luncheons. A baked apple, a bit of rice
pudding, or a custard--they, too, are worth the while and the price.
Eggs, either boiled or carefully scrambled, or made into an omelet,
flavored with a dash of parsley, and chops or fish delicately broiled,
are substantial viands. Soups or broths, breads, fruits and an
occasional salad make desirable luncheons. A noonday meal of creamed
potatoes and green peas is not to be despised, and it's a godsend to
the poor stomach that has been heroically tussling with cocoanut
pudding, fruit cake and chocolate rich enough to own a castle in
Europe. Such dishes as Italian spaghetti, with tomato sauce and
Parmesan cheese, or celery or cress salad, with no other dressing than
the best olive oil and a teaspoonful of vinegar, will do very well.

There is no economy in buying badly cooked luncheons. Seek quality, not
quantity, and, so far as health and good looks go, you'll find yourself
getting along famously.

Rich foods, especially pastries, can bring forth an array of facial
eruptions that is positively maddening to the poor victim. Ice cream
soda, too, deranges the stomach and creates all sorts of disagreeable
disturbances. Hot bread and rolls, indulged in to an appalling extent
in southern households, can do more real damage to a good, fair skin
than all the winds and wintry blasts that ever shook chimneys or swept
friskily around corners and alleyways.

Overeating not only brings indigestion and creepy dreams, but
invariably makes the complexion coarse, high-colored and overruddy.
That does not mean that one should nibble at things and not demolish a
"good square meal." Eating should be understood--rules laid down and
religiously carried out.

Usually hygienic dishes and health foods comprise a complete list of
one's special horrors. Most girls who have tried them say so. But just
the same, there are dozens--yes, hundreds--of nutritious viands that
are decidedly more palatable and appetizing than the sweets and
indigestible doughy nothings that not only make of you a physical wreck
but set you to wishing most heartily that the man who invented mirrors
had died of the measles in his early infancy.

Rice is a good old stand-by as a builder-up of a run-down constitution.
But you don't like it? Well, then, stew it with chicken sometime and
you will soon discover what great possibilities are in this despised
grain. Oatmeal, as it is usually cooked, is a thing of horror, to be
shunned and avoided and run away from. But oatmeal left to slowly
simmer for a full hour, and served half liquid, fluffed over with a bit
of powdered sugar and covered with rich cream, is fit for a queen--most
especially if the royal lady is ambitious for a fair visage with sweet,
soft skin and cheeks just touched with the crimson of health.

A thick porterhouse steak, broiled quickly and well seasoned with salt,
pepper and butter, or rare little chops of lamb, are always excellent
tonics, as well as complexion tinters.

Very often a lack of beauty is nothing more than a lack of proper
nourishment. The best cure in the world for a haggard, wan, white face
is a proper understanding of good foods. Sometimes a tonic of iron is
needed to brace the wearied physical state. Cod liver oil, which is so
very disagreeable to most people, is the sure cure for the girl whose
extreme slenderness causes her to lie awake nights to fret and worry.
But when the oil is prepared with malt it is even better, and also less
trying to swallow. A combination of malt and hypo-phosphates is
excellent too, and will bring back the fire of energy to the eye, and
the roses to the cheeks. A dessertspoonful taken before meals will
stimulate and strengthen, and get the tired body into a better state to
resist the wear and tear of ill health or overwork.

One beautiful woman of my acquaintance declares that the secret of her
radiant looks is simply lettuce and olive oil. She eats lettuce summer
and winter, and this queer complexion cure has certainly worked like a
charm in her case. She buys the crisp young head lettuce, being careful
to use only the inner leaves. Over this she pours two tablespoonfuls of
the best olive oil and the very slightest dash of vinegar. Salt and the
least wee bit of sugar finish the salad. The good qualities of lettuce
are usually destroyed by rich, mustardy dressings, that breed acute
dyspepsia and desperate despair over good looks. But olive oil and
lettuce is as good a combination for rugged health and a fair face as
one can find in a year's search from Cape Horn to the Yukon. Others
besides the lovely lady of whom I speak have found it so. The secret,
though, is, I fancy, in the olive oil, which is an excellent aperient.

A complexion-destroying habit is that of eating late lunches just
before going to bed. An apple or an orange is a benefit--as is also
plenty of cold, distilled water--but when it comes to gnawing chicken
bones, devouring big slabs of rich cake or finishing up a dish of
leftover salad, then is the time that kind relatives or guardians
should step in, say a word and take a hand. The girl should be saved
from herself at almost any expense.

Fruit is a panacea for many complexion ills. What a pity, then, that
blind womankind persists in dabbing things on her nose instead of
putting healthful, purifying beauty food into her stomach.

There is no reason in the world why fruit should be considered a
luxury. It should be used as a staple article of diet. Surely that must
have been the original intention. But alas, how many housewives will
pay forty cents for a can of lobster that will upset stomachs, frazzle
pleasant tempers, cause all sorts of complexion horrors and bring a
perfect comet trail of nightmares and dyspepsia! And these same women
will wrap themselves in a sanctimonious mantle of economy when the
woman next door pays the same sum for a dozen great juicy oranges.

Grapes and apples are among the most nutritious fruits, and there is
nothing in the world so good for a skin of oily surface or yellow hue
as a grape diet. Besides, grapes are extremely appetizing, are very
easily digested and are sure to agree with even the most delicate
stomach. Ripe peaches have nearly all the merits of the grape, and, if
in proper condition, are also quite unlikely to bring about indigestion
or stomach disorders.

There has never yet been concocted a better spring tonic than
strawberries. The reason why they are particularly excellent to enrich
and purify the blood is because they contain a larger percentage of
iron than any other fruit. It is a shame ever to embarrass and
humiliate the luscious things by imprisoning them in the indigestible
layers of a shortcake. A fluff of pure powdered sugar and a dash of
whipped cream and you have a toothsome dish fit for the most finicky
god that ever graced Olympia's pleasant realms.

The woman who has a dingy, muddy skin must pin her faith to oranges,
lemons and limes. These are simply unrivaled as complexion clearers.
The juice of the grape fruit is fine, too. Fruits of this class
stimulate and make active the digestive organs, which, as you probably
know, are the main seat of nearly all complexion ills. A breakfast of
oranges and strawberries will do more toward making you a pretty,
wholesome, healthy woman than almost anything else.

To be perfectly wholesome, fruit with firm flesh, like plums or apples
or cherries, must be thoroughly masticated. The skin of raw fruit
should under no circumstances be eaten. It is covered invariably with
multitudes of minute germs which always swarm upon the surface of the
fruit and multiply rapidly under favorable conditions of warmth. Before
eating grapes or cherries all dust and impurities must be removed by
careful washing in several waters.

But to sum up the entire question of diet, eat what you know will agree
with you, and choose the blood-making, nourishing foods. Let fruit and
vegetables predominate in your meals, but do not avoid meats entirely.
Cake is not harmful unless very rich, but greasy pastries--like pies
and tarts and things of that sort--are simply utterly, hopelessly
impossible! Fats make the skin oily and coarse, pastries produce
pimples and blackheads faster than you can doctor them away, and too
much sweets will have about the same effect. Instead of buying candies,
save your money and acquire a fine complexion along with a bank
account. It will pay in the end.




                               SLEEP.

    "What a delightful thing rest is! The bed has become a place of
    luxury to me. I would not exchange it for all the thrones in the
    world."--_Napoleon I._


If womankind half realized the beauty benefits of plenty of restful,
refreshing sleep, all femininity would be crawling into bed at sunset.
I've often wondered why the great sisterhood that is praying and
working and fretting for physical loveliness does not understand that
more real help comes from rational, hygienic living than can be
squeezed out of all the cosmetic jars that ever enticed weak feminine
hearts.

Beauty sleep! Why, we've heard of it since the long-ago days when our
blessed mothers sung it, lullaby-fashion, into our ears! As little
girls it brightened the "sand-man" hour and made us go contentedly to
bed. As women it should rightly continue its good work, and the dear
Lord knows we need it more now than we did then, for--perhaps--the
crow's feet have begun to show their ugly little tracks and the fine
complexion of early girlhood is losing its luster and brightness, and
is growing a bit dull and yellowed--like a leaf first touched with the
autumn chill.

Perhaps you won't believe it, but there are right ways of sleeping and
wrong ways as well. The girl who curls up like a shrimp is the one who
will be writing to me in a great flurry and worry, telling me that her
shoulders are round, and that she simply can't make them nice and
square as they should be for the new tailor-made that is to transform
her into a happy little Easter girl! The woman who is horrified to find
wrinkles appearing like wee birds of omen does not have to tell me that
she is a pillow fiend and sleeps with her head half a foot higher than
her heels. It stands to reason that a pillow will push the flesh of the
face up into little lines. There is no necessity for pillows at all,
and girls don't need them for comfort any more than a little puppy dog
needs patent leathers or overshoes. The bed should be hard and
perfectly flat, with springs that do not sag or give and let the poor
sleeper roll down in the middle in a jumbled-up heap. A hair mattress
is the best for health and comfort, but others will do nicely if they
are only perfectly flat and not too soft.

The first thing to do, then, is to dispense with the pillow. If this
change cannot be accomplished all at once, then let your pillow be
gradually made smaller and smaller until none at all is desired. Your
sleep will be much better, and after the habit is once formed a pillow
is looked upon with derision. I know foolish mothers who put their
children to sleep on pillows as big as a school-girl's love for
caramels, and the poor babies tumble and toss, and the next morning
those mothers dose them for a pain in the "tum-tum." Alack-a-day!
Babies don't need pillows--unless it be those little soft cushions of
down that are as flat as pancakes.

But to return from babies to beauty. If your sleep is restless and you
awaken with a dull headache and the feeling of weariness that makes you
want to begin the night over again so as to get refreshed, you may be
sure that something is wrong--either you are worried or troubled or are
working too hard for your own good. Perhaps your digestion is out of
order, or the room is not properly ventilated. It may be any of these
things that keep you from getting the rest that is really so very
necessary for health and comfort and good looks.

Heavy bedding is also distressing, and as good a maker of nightmares as
deviled crabs or plum pudding. Light blankets make the best covering.
Let the window be open at top and bottom, so as to have perfect
ventilation. Don't eat an indigestible lunch before retiring; this is
the greatest of all beauty follies. Lie on the abdomen, with your hands
at your sides. This position will keep your shoulders back, will give
you a good figure and a better carriage. When you have followed these
directions and still find that you spend most of the night crawling
around over your bed vainly seeking a comfortable and restful spot,
then you can make up your mind that you need a good tonic and a
doctor's counsel, for your nerves or your digestive organs are not as
they should be.

To sum it all up in a nutshell: You must sleep well, and you must sleep
a great deal if you wish to be the "woman beautiful." Sitting up late
at night will cause grey hair as will nothing else. It makes those dark
circles about the eyes, and causes the "windows of the soul," to lose
half their luster and softness and beauty. Who ever saw a pretty woman
with dull, lifeless eyes? She wouldn't be pretty were she so afflicted.
By sleeping properly, the body is kept stronger and fresher, and thus
the complexion is benefited greatly. Wrinkles do not come so soon, the
skin does not take on that muddy, yellow hue as it would otherwise, and
cheeks are pink and rosy with that greatest of all rouges--Health.

There's a heap of truth in all this. If you do not believe it, then
give up late hours--be they for study or pleasure--and see if the
problem won't work itself out nicely with you. I think it will. In
fact, I am really quite sure of it.




                              EXERCISE

    "Better to hunt in fields for health unbought
    Then fee the doctor for a nauseous draught
    The wise for cure on exercise depend;
    God never made His work for man to mend."

    --_Dryden._


It would have done your heart good to see her.

She came into the room with the briskness of a March flurry of snow.
Her cheeks were poppy-red, her eyes sparkled with the mere joy of
living. And she chuckled happily as she tucked back the curly scolding
locks that were flying about, all helter-skelter, like feathers
unloosed or fluffy chicks blowing away from the mother wing.

"Isn't it jolly?" she chirped, as she threw her muff on the floor and
made a dive for Peter Jackson. Peter Jackson is a cat, as black as the
ace of spades and as pugilistic a feline as ever walked a fence.

"Isn't what jolly?" I queried. "The weather or your sprightly self? Do
you know, you'd make a splendid poster now for some new-fangled
cork-soled walking shoe? Or perhaps a bearskin ulster for Klondike
wear. I'm sure a feather boa concern would pay a fortune for your
picture. I would I were an artist man, with a little brush and a little
pencil and a little palette with nice little paint puddles on it----"

"What-in-the-world? Here I start in to dilate upon the joys of exercise
and off you go, just like a musical top with your buzz-buzz-buzz, and
your incomprehensible talk about little painters and little palettes
and little paint puddles. I'm sure it's not a bit nice of you."

Peter Jackson was shoved to the floor.

"But walking is jolly!" she piped, "and I've just had the very
gloriousest tramp and I feel as fine as a--what is it they say? Oh, as
fine as a violin--I--I mean fiddle. I walked miles and miles--perhaps
not quite so far--and the wind was blowing a blue streak right in my
face. Ugh! first it made me shiver and creep up into my collar. But
bimeby I got nice and warmy, and my cheeks tingled. I felt as if I
could walk from here to the place where the sun goes down. Do you know,
I never before realized how much fun it was to take a good tramp. I've
half a mind to reform from my rôle of lazy-bones and walk every day,
whether it snows, blows, cyclones, or turns warm, and fells us all with
sunstrokes and heat prostrations."

"Health is the vital principle of bliss, and exercise of health," said
I, quoting Thomson.

"Oh, well," and my pretty, rosy-cheeked guest arose. "I must be going.
You know how it is when one gets to preaching physical culture and
spouting poetry. Ta-ta!" and away she went, like the fleeting memory of
last night's dream.

                    *      *      *      *      *

If women paid as much attention to exercise as do men there would not
be so many wrinkles and stooped shoulders among the feminine sex, and
old age wouldn't rap on the door ahead of time. The girl who goes in
for outdoor sport, who isn't afraid of walking a block or two, who
loves the cold air and who revels in wheeling and swimming and skating,
is the one who won't be an old woman in appearance while she is still
young in years. Keep the muscles firm and healthy by exercise. This
will not only improve your carriage and add to your general
development, but will aid the digestive organs in their work and keep
you animated and cheery. Who of us does not know the inspiration of a
walk in the open air after a few days spent in the close atmosphere of
the house? Fresh air is the elixir of life. We can't have too much of
it, and--oh, my girls--think of the exceeding cheapness of it! It can
be got for the asking, which is more than one can say for the various
beauty pomades and lotions that beckon us toward poverty.

Walking and skating are the best exercises during the winter, but all
kinds of exercises are acceptable, providing they are gone about in the
proper manner. It is easy enough to see why thorough and regular
exercise is absolutely necessary to health.

We all know--at least, we all should know--that the general size of the
human body depends on muscular development. The same bony frame which
makes a slim-jim girl that tips the scales at seventy-five pounds can
be padded with good solid flesh until it boasts of a triple chin,
fingers like wee roly-poly puddings, and a full 200 pounds in weight.
The framework of the body counts little toward size.

The muscles are like the various bits of machinery which go to make up
a steam engine. In performing their work they produce heat and motion.
The fuel which supplies this force is taken into the body as food,
prepared for use in the intestinal tract, and from there carried by the
blood to be stored up in the muscles and various tissues as latent
force. Through the circulation of the blood the whole body is heated by
muscular exercise. It stands to reason that continual exercise of a
certain kind will develop certain muscles. For instance, there's the
arm of the blacksmith or the firmly developed legs of the danseuse. The
same muscle that grows when used within certain limits will waste away
when deprived of proper exercise.

In physical culture the object is the symmetrical development of all
the muscles, not one at the expense of the other. So, for that reason,
don't pin your faith to dumb-bells and Indian clubs and neglect more
necessary exercise. If you do you will in time find yourself possessed
of big Sandow arms that will make the rest of you look as spindle-like
as a last year's golden-rod stalk.

Walking is as good a form of exercise as anything yet discovered. But
walking as most girls and women walk won't do you one bit of good. You
might just as well spend your time trying to count 700 backward or
while away the hours talking 1880 fashions with the woman next door,
for all the health or happiness or physical development that you will
get out of it.

Corsets and bands and belts must be done away with. You must have full,
free use of your lungs. Then, don't wear heavy petti-coats that will
retard the free movements of your legs and make your hips ache with
their tiresome weight. Dress warmly but as lightly as possible.

Above everything else don't stick your fingertips into a muff and
waddle along like a little duck in sealskin and purple velvet
trimmings. Your arms must swing easily at your sides. Thus equipped
walking should not be a task, but a great, big, lovely joy, no matter
if the frost does nip your nice little nose and make your cheeks feel
as if they had been starched, dried, ironed and hung on the line to
air.

English women who come to America can tell us a thing or two about long
walks. Only the other day a pretty Englishwoman with a complexion like
apple blossoms casually divulged the information that a walk of ten or
fifteen miles was an old, old story to her. So, when I say that three
miles a day--the three miles ought really to be covered inside an
hour--is not a bit too much to give one's muscles the necessary
exercise, I hope you won't lean back in your chair and gracefully
expire. Some of you will gasp, no doubt, for a walk of five blocks to a
suburban station is usually looked upon as a heroic martyrdom to
circumstances and environments.

Alas, for woman's fickleness! And alas, for her playful habit of going
to extremes! Suppose, for instance, that Polly Jones says she is going
to take a nice long walk every day of her life; that she knows the
bountiful blessings and benefits of a brisk tramp, and that she will
take that tramp in spite of obstacles as big as the Auditorium or as
immense as her longing for a cherry-colored silk petticoat.

The first day--and, mind you, she has not walked a mile for weeks, the
lazy girl--she covers five miles in an hour and ten minutes.

And when she comes home she's such a wreck that the whole family is up
in arms in a jiffy, and whisk out the tomahawks ready for war. That's
the end of Polly Jones' pedestrian exercises.

And Daisy Brown. She does quite the same thing, only not so violently.
The first day she walks four miles, the next two, and then comes a trip
around the corner to get arnica and liniments for her poor, aching
bones. Thus also terminates Daisy's stern resolution to take daily
constitutionals.

But the wise woman. Daisy's and Polly's methods are not hers. Far from
it! When she begins to walk for health and beauty she dons loose,
comfortable clothes, and with swinging arms and head well back, strides
along briskly and easily. Her first day's walk is scarcely a mile. The
second tramp is longer; and gradually the distance is increased until
the three miles are covered in about fifty minutes.

The wise woman does not take her exercise in the afternoon, but in the
morning, an hour or so after breakfast, when the day is young and
everything seems bright and hopeful and cheery. Then it is that the
babies are out in their go-carts and carriages, and the "chillens" are
trooping to school. It's heaps pleasanter than an afternoon walk when
one has more of the worries and events of the day on one's mind.

[Illustration: QUEEN HELENA OF ITALY]

It is the regularity of exercise--and living, in fact--that brings the
best results. A stated time for baths, meals, rests and walks is the
proper plan for those fortunate ones who are not rushed into a
condition of decrepit antiquity trying to do fourteen different tasks
in thirteen small, limited minutes. Some of us, the very busy ones,
cannot have the necessary rests during the day, but baths and exercise
can usually be arranged and carried out. They should be, for they are
of more vital import than most of us realize.

Running is splendid exercise, but we city folk have few opportunities
for exhilarating fun of that sort. A woman sprinting for a cable car
might quite as well be a trained bear in a pink mosquito netting
petticoat for the sensation and giggles she creates. With a bonnet
perched over one ear or dangling dizzily from an escaping empire knot
she is neither a dignified nor an inspiring picture.

So it's quite as well all around to run in one's own room. In fact, the
best way to run is to run in one small spot and not go ahead. That
sounds befuddled, but it is easily explained. Get into loose clothes,
throw open the window, place your hands on your hips and go through the
movements of running. It is best to be in stocking feet or light
slippers, else that odious woman in the flat below may knock on the
steam pipe as a signal for peace and quiet.

After fifteen minutes of mock running take an invigorating, tepid
sponge bath with just a dash of benzoin in the water. After that comes
vigorous friction with a rough towel. Then take a nap if you can spare
the time. Of course one must guard against exposure to cold after one
is heated by the exertion of exercise.

Dancing would be one of the best of exercises were it not for the
close, ill-ventilated rooms, the tight clothes, the exposed shoulders
and the nervous strain which is always on hand at large social affairs.

As for skating, there is nothing better. It makes a woman feel like a
new man. I say that quite consciously, as, in my opinion, to feel like
a new woman--that poor, long-ridiculed creature--would be more
humiliating than joyful. Don't you think so?

Horseback riding is questionable exercise. The side saddle is apt to
increase the tendency to curvature of the spine, while tight corsets
prevent the good that would come to the heart and lungs and digestive
organs. Swimming is good, particularly for nervous, high-strung
persons. And the wheel? Well, that best of all exercises--for it is the
best when indulged in by the wise woman, not the crooked-back,
scorching, silly--is a story in itself.




                          STOOPED SHOULDERS

    "Her grace of motion and of look, the smooth
    And swimming majesty of step and tread,
    The symmetry of form and feature, set
    The soul afloat, even like delicious airs
    Of flute or harp."

    --_Milman._


Stooped shoulders is one beauty ill that is wholly unnecessary. Any
girl with real brains and a little energy and will power can make
herself straight and bestow upon herself a good carriage. It is
entirely a matter of doing and persevering. Most of us know remedies
for our small failings, but how many of us apply them persistently
until a cure is brought about? Few indeed, and more's the pity.

When starting the reform always bear in mind that the chest must be
held upward and outward. When this is done it is not necessary to keep
the shoulders back in a forced, strained position, and so make little
crowfeet in the back of your gown. The benefits of holding the chest
thus are more than one--or two, either, for that matter. If practiced
continually it will strengthen the lungs. It will also develop the
chest and neck as no masseure of miracle-working fingers can ever hope
to. Breathing exercises are also excellent.

Incorrect positions during sleep cause many stooped shoulders. The big
fat pillow of our grandmother's day is the worst kind of a horror. No
pillow at all is best, and after one becomes accustomed to sleeping
that way it will be found much more restful and altogether comfortable.
The best position for sleep is to lie face downward, with the arms
straight at the sides. Of course, I am fully aware that most women
sleep curled up like kittens, but they can change their ways if they
will but try.

The woman with straight, good shoulders never carries her arms heaped
full of bundles, for that draws them forward and makes them droop as
dismally as an ostrich plume in a blizzard. Instead, the "budgets" are
carried with the arms down at the sides. Neither does she clutch the
back of her skirt in that bantamlike fashion practiced by the woman of
less judgment. The back breadths of her new tailor-made are grasped
about six inches from the belt, and held up just so that they clear the
ground. Hats worn deep over the eyes are not desirable, this wise woman
also knows, for however tightly they are pinned to one's back hair,
they are mighty likely to keep one's body at an uncomfortable slant.

The plump woman who wears her hose supporters pinned to the front of
her corsets seldom knows that the constant pulling of the elastics has
a tendency to make her shoulders droop. Shoes of high heels and narrow
toes are equally bad, for the wearer is plunged forward in an
ungraceful and line-destroying attitude. The low-heeled, square-toed
shoe--that is now in vogue--is the thing to wear, and blessed be the
Lord for at last bringing womankind to a rational understanding of what
she should wear on her much-abused little feet!

The tailor-made gown is serviceable as a promoter of good figures, for
usually, unless one keeps one's shoulders back, the front of the bodice
proceeds to lay wrinkles in itself and so spoil the good effect that
women love as they do their pet jelly dishes and their Dresden teacups.

Other things to be remembered are: Always stand on the front or ball of
the foot and keep the knees straight. Carry yourself so that a string
extended downward from your chest would reach the floor without
touching another part of the body. Do not push your head forward and do
not be in a hurry so that you will waddle along like a little duckling
with absolutely no grace or carriage. Dress comfortably, have your
clothing well fastened, and your gown loose enough to give your lungs
opportunity for the full expansion that, for the sake of your health,
they should have. Make sofa cushions of your pillows and sleep always
face downward, flat on the mattress. Last, but not least, don't be a
woeful lady and amble along in a disconsolate, sloppy-weather fashion
that is so utterly hopeless that I could never set before me the awful
task of suggesting a remedy. One of the secrets of happiness and
success is cheerfulness. Men and women and even babies like cheerful
folk, while they will race their overshoes off trying to get away from
the unhappy ones of dismal tales and many worries. Be cheerful, even
though the laundress has washed your best handkerchief into a real-lace
sieve, or the rains and snows of December have descended upon your best
Sunday bonnet and made a pocket edition of a rag-bag thereof, or even
if the gas range has blown itself and all the kitchen windows into the
next block. Be cheerful at all hazards! It pays! Really it does!




                              BREATHING

    "The common ingredients of health and long life are,
              Great temp'rance, open air,
              Easy labor, little care."

    --_Sir Philip Sidney._


Among the first lessons that the beauty student must learn is how to
breathe properly. I know, my girls, that that sounds awfully stupid,
but there are yards and acres of truth in it nevertheless, and the
subject is well worth your while--you can depend upon that. Haven't you
ever noticed that most of the women who have gone in for vocal culture
have round, pretty waists? Almost invariably the singer is a woman of
fine figure, well-poised head, firmly-set shoulders and easy carriage.
And the reason is simple. She has learned from the beginning that she
must breathe properly, that every breath must come from the abdomen and
not from the chest, and that to breathe in that way she must hold up
her chin and expand her lungs.

We often mistake carriage for fine figure. It is the woman who poises
her head well and who keeps her shoulders back that attracts the eye of
other women. There is something brisk and energetic and active about
her that makes of her a sight good to look upon; while another woman
with perhaps a much better figure will trail about with a
down-in-the-mouth air and a slow, doleful gait that will give one the
blues and an absence of appetite for weeks to come.

You cannot possibly breathe properly and have your shoulders
stooped--at least you cannot make such a combination without a mighty
big lot of discomfort. If you breathe as you should you will develop
the chest and bust, give better lines to the shoulders and--unless you
are naturally inclined to be plump and rotund--will make your waist
become round and slender and pretty. If you doubt this, try for
yourself and see.

I wish that I could impress my readers with the fact that improper
breathing brings many ills. Breathing is a highly important function,
and bad breathing not only produces symptoms of consumption, but makes
the waist unduly large. The reason for this is that holding the chest
up will keep all the internal organs in their proper places, and so not
allow them to spread the waist in the unsightly way that usually
denotes deficient vitality instead of the "Greek health" upon which
physicians are wont to dilate. Good breathing strengthens muscles and
makes the flesh firm. The reward is a perfect, round, slender figure
and a trim waist.

Begin your breathing lessons in the morning just after getting out of
bed, when you will have no tight skirts or bands to hinder the full
expansion of the lungs. Raise every window and get all of God's blessed
air that you can, and, above all things, let not this practice cease
when the winds of winter blow as if from Greenland's icy mountains. The
breathing exercise is all the better then. Place your hands on your
hips and walk slowly across the room, your chest held upward and
outward, and every breath coming deeply from the abdomen. After three
trips you will find yourself pretty well tired out. Rest for a few
moments and try again. The next morning make the exercises longer, and
as soon as the muscles that hold your chest up become firm and strong
there will be little exhaustion. Vary the exercise by standing still,
taking as long a breath as possible and holding it for several seconds.
This practice, indulged in for five or ten minutes every day, is most
beneficial. But the main motive in all breathing exercises is to get
into the habit of standing straight with the shoulders held back and
the chest up. "Play" that you are trying to make your chest creep up
and touch your chin.

One of the greatest injuries that come from wearing tightly laced
corsets is the compression of the ribs. The unyielding steel and
buckram will not permit a variation in the waist measure as a deep
breath is inhaled or expelled. The proper and healthful corset is the
one that expands or contracts with each respiration of its wearer, and
that is why I am such an enthusiastic devotee of the corset waist with
the elastic bands on either side. It matters not one bit how tight the
clothing may be, so long as it is given elasticity and is yielding.
This is absolutely necessary to perfect health and the proper
development of a woman's figure.

With the breathing capacity increased, enlargement of the lungs and
development of the chest are sure to be the results. But, be it
understood, please, that this growth is not the work of a day or a
week, or a month even. However, if it is continued religiously there
will be a difference of five or six, or even seven, inches in your
chest measure in the course of a year, to say nothing of the
improvement in carriage and figure, and the health and strength that
correct breathing will give.

There are a number of things to remember. The first is that one must
secure breath control, the next that the best authorities condemn
thoracic or upper chest breathing. Keep the chest up and out, and let
the expansion be at the waist line. Inhale slowly and smoothly as much
air as you can, swelling out the lower chest at the sides just below
the arm pits as the air is drawn in. Hold this air five seconds. Then
exhale it slowly and gradually, crushing in the ribs gently with the
hands as the air goes out. During the exhalation be sure to keep the
upper chest still. Do not let it sink, as it will be apt to if not
restrained by an effort of the will. Exhale again and hold the breath
for ten seconds, then for fifteen seconds, and finally for twenty
seconds. This exercise will do for the first day. Increase the power of
holding the breath by practicing regularly each day.

Be careful not to make any motion suddenly. In calisthenics of any kind
the more slowly and carefully the exercise is performed the greater
will be the benefit. But best of all, keep in mind that these breathing
exercises are not only making you a pretty woman of pretty figure, but
giving you that greatest of all beauty elixirs--health.




                               MASSAGE

    "The love of beauty is one of the most firmly implanted qualities
    of the human mind, and only those who are mentally deficient fail
    to appreciate it. From the human standpoint there is no edifice so
    beautiful as that earthly temple which enshrines the soul."--_Dr.
    Cyrus Edson._


Massage is as old as the hills. Most really good things are, I've
found. The Grecian and Roman women preserved their wondrous, wholesome
beauty by reveling in luxuriant baths and then undergoing vigorous
massage by their stout-armed slaves. Massage is a natural alleviator
and comfort-giver. The first thing a baby does when he bumps his
precious head is to rub the injured spot with his little fist. Relief
seems to come with friction. If one's temples hurt, the hands seem to
itch and tingle to get to rubbing and smoothing out the aches there.
And the reason for it is that friction makes active the nerves and
blood vessels and exercises the tired or fretting muscles. Massage is
exercise. If we were to cease using our arms the muscles would shrink
and soon become incapable of movement. The skin outside would, of
course, be affected by the general warpings of the tissues, and the
result would be everything that is dreadful to the mind
feminine--crow's feet, wrinkles, sallowness and lack of the tints and
colors of health. You who have enjoyed the pleasures of a Turkish bath
must know how new and robust and fresh you feel after the invigorating
cleansing and pummeling by a strong and experienced masseuse.

We all know about the system of decay and renewing which the skin
constantly undergoes. It is much the same way with the muscles. The
very tiny cells of which the muscles are composed are continually being
repaired. As the wornout particles are rejected the new fiber is
created. Does it not stand to reason that massage will facilitate this
process, make the flesh firmer, restore vigor to the muscles and give
new life to the entire system?

The muscles of the face, more than those of any other part of the body,
are lazy and torpid. As the troubles of life descend, the wear and tear
of bothersome existence begins to show. The circulation becomes
defective, and this brings flabby tissues and a wrinkled, sallow skin.
Then, oh, woe! woe! One feels as if one might just as well be dead and
gone as to be trailing through life so afflicted.

Massage means "I knead." While the professional masseuse should be well
informed concerning the muscles of the face and neck, the location of
the veins and arteries, and the general formation of the skin, the
little home body who wishes to rub away a few wrinkles or turkey tracks
can easily dispense with the acquiring of so much knowledge. With
knowing what "not to do," she will get along very well, although it has
always been my opinion that the simplest and most satisfactory way to
learn to massage one's own cheeks and brow is to go to a first-class
professional for one or two treatments. If you keep your eyes open you
will easily learn the simplest and most effective movements.

The first thing to remember is that massage will both create and reduce
flesh, according to the treatment given and the time devoted to it.
Severe rubbing and rolling of the flesh between the fingers will
gradually dissolve the fatty tissues. The flesh will then become soft
and flabby, and the skin will be likely to fall into tiny lines unless
an astringent wash, like weak alum water (used hot), is applied to
tighten and harden it slightly, and so make the flesh firm. If the
massage is continued, the flabby flesh will also be reduced, especially
when the astringent wash is applied to help the hardening process. When
the face is to be plumpened or wrinkles removed, then rub the skin very
gently with a rotary motion, which is not a mere rubbing but a kneading
as well, and follow with light tapping movements. Never roll the flesh
between the fingers unless reduction is the object. Also, never massage
oftener than once every twenty-four hours, and then only for fifteen or
twenty minutes.

So much for the don'ts. Before beginning the massage have the face
perfectly clean. Wash with tepid water and pure castile soap. Otherwise
the dust and powder are kneaded into the pores and the result is
frequently extremely irritating.

The reasons for massage are many. It facilitates and stimulates the
skin in its continual effort to throw off the tiny flakes of dried,
dead cuticle. It is exercise for the muscles, and at the same time it
inspires a livelier circulation of the blood. It is easy to understand
then why massage is so beneficial for the face, and why it makes a
rosy, healthy complexion. Massage alone will remedy many a complexion
ill, for when the muscles are sluggish and torpid, the tissues weak and
flabby, the circulation as slow as the messenger boys in the funny
papers, and the skin sallow and wrinkled, all in the world that is
needed is a little gentle patting and coddling and rubbing into a less
lifeless state.

Great care must be taken lest the skin become bruised and irritated.
For this reason a cream or skin food is used. Let me suggest that this
emollient be of the good, pure, home-made kind, not the cheap cosmetic
which has mutton tallow or lard as a principal foundation. The orange
flower skin food (formula appears in the chapter on the complexion) is
the best formula for this purpose, as it will, by absorption, fatten
and build up the impoverished tissues, and at the same time strengthen,
whiten and soften the skin. Mineral oils must never be used. Glycerin
not only makes the complexion darker and rather yellow, but it dries
the secretions of the skin very rapidly, and a dry, harsh surface is
the sure result. Vaseline--as we should know from its reputation as a
hair tonic--will not prove a happiness to one.

The skin food should be rubbed in all over the face and far down upon
the neck with a firm, circular movement. When the cream is partially
absorbed begin the manipulations, starting at the forehead. Place the
thumbs on the temples and in that way hold the skin firm and taut. With
the tips of the first and second fingers of both hands rub the lines
transversely. If there be wrinkles across the forehead, rub up and
down, holding the skin tight at the top of the forehead with the first
fingers and manipulating with the second and third.

Another movement which is excellent for wrinkles is to place the first
finger of each hand crosswise of the wrinkles about half an inch apart.
Then push up a little fold. As the left hand finger pushes its way
along the wrinkle, let the right hand one rub up and down, always
keeping the line up into a little hill.

In massaging the lines about the eyes the movement should begin by
rubbing the eyelid from the nose outward half an inch beyond the end of
the eye, then returning below the eye toward the nose. This will make
the massage sweep back crosswise of the crow's feet. Another movement
is to hold the skin taut and then knead the lines firmly with the first
and second fingers of the right hand.

If the chin is fleshy and you wish to massage it down to smaller
proportions, you must dissolve the fatty tissues by picking up the
flesh between the thumb and forefinger and rolling and rubbing as much
as you possibly can without injuring or breaking the skin. Then, in
order to keep the flesh from getting flabby the rotund little chin must
be bathed in cold water, in which is a small pinch of alum, a piece the
size of a bean being plenty for a pint of water. This alum bath,
remember, is only to be applied when you are reducing the carbon or
fat.

The "kneading" movement is very beneficial. This is done very gently
with the thumb and forefinger only--precisely the motion used in
kneading bread. The smoothing manipulation for the wrinkles is probably
better explained as an "ironing out" motion. All lines can stand these
two movements. Whenever the skin seems particularly dull of color and
generally lifeless, then the patting comes in excellent play. This is
merely a gentle tattoo over the entire face. Electricity is an
excellent accessory to massage--but that is another story.

After the massage, wet a wash cloth in water slightly chilled, and lay
over the face. This will close the pores nicely. Dry and apply powder.

I trust that my beauty students will easily understand the
foregoing--it is certainly a difficult topic to explain lucidly. As I
said before, it is a wise plan to go to some one who thoroughly
understands the art and let her teach you. While massage can be given
at home, it is more satisfactory if done by a professional whose
knowledge of anatomy will assist her toward the best results.




                                DRESS

    "Be plain in dress, and sober in your diet;
    In short, my deary, kiss me! and be quiet."

    --_Lady W. Montague._


The world has its full share of silly women--more's the pity--but there
is not one who can hold a candle to the girl who trots about in the
cold, bleak days of winter clad in summery undergarments fit only for
the warm atmosphere of a baker's oven in August. So long as these
exhibitions of utter absurdity continue we cannot consistently harp
upon woman's recently acquired good sense in dress. It seems more and
more the fad for girls to boast that they have never worn a vulgar
outfit of flannel undergarments, but it is quite observable that these
same girls are the very ones who are eternally grunting and groaning
and coughing and fussing. And how can they help it? You can't have good
health if you keep yourself in a semi-refrigerated state. A sleeveless
vest of silk is not sufficient to keep one's body warm, even though the
prettiest bodice in Christendom and the swellest of "coaties" cover it.
Skirts of white muslin, with pretty frills and lacey trimmings that
fall in soft folds and ruffles around one's feet, are mighty dainty
things for the summer girl--but is there a colder sound than that of a
starched white petticoat in the dead of winter? Bur-r-rr! it gives one
the cold chills to even think of it!

Who has not beheld the stunningly gowned girl stalking majestically
around the shopping district in a little tailor-made jacket topped off
with a fur collarette? She tells herself that she is perfectly warm and
comfortable, but you and I know better, my dear, for we have seen her
unhappy efforts to crawl up into this same collarette, and we have
beheld her shivering misery as a good stiff gust of January wind sends
her flying around a corner.

I am a firm believer in the tailor-made gown, and I am of the opinion
that style often counts more than real beauty with women of stately
carriage and pretty figure. But nevertheless, I believe first in
keeping warm and in protecting one's health. The girl in the smart
little jacket could well afford to wear a winter coat over it on the
coldest days, and even then she would not swelter from the heat.
Really, it is torture for a woman of common sense to go along the
shopping district and see her poor, miserable sisters who let comfort
fly to the four winds of heaven while they revel madly in appearances.
It's all very well, my girls, to look your best. But don't make
sacrifices that will injure your health. I'd rather see a woman in a
last winter's coat with the seams shiny than look upon a foolish but
radiant creature in a bit of a cape that would keep her about as warm
as would two good-sized cobwebs stitched together. The first woman
would have the advantage of displaying evidence of real brains on the
inside of her head. And beauty without brains isn't real beauty at all,
but a sad, shop-worn, tear-wringing imitation.

It is my opinion that in choosing underclothing for cold weather
finely-woven cotton is the best of all. Silk is not durable, and wool,
even of the finest quality, will often prove irritating. Besides, so
many of us spend most of our time in steam-heated homes or offices that
woolen garments keep one too warm. The cotton union suit makes a very
desirable undergarment. This should be high-necked, long-sleeved, and
made to come well down over the ankles. For the girl whose particular
worry is a nose of flaming red, let me say that in fleece-lined
stockings, calfskin boots and warm overshoes lies her only hope of a
less flamboyant nasal appendage.

There is no need of fourteen petticoats, notwithstanding the fact that
really nice old ladies insist upon wearing that number. One skirt of
silk or moreen, together with a tiny short one of white muslin and a
pair of sensible, warm, woolen equestrian tights will make one more
comfortable and will allay that immense swelling about the hips which
much be-petticoated old ladies have. The tights, however, should be
worn only when one is out of doors. During really cold weather no woman
with sense enough to fill a one-grain quinine capsule will venture out
of the house without thus properly clothing her lower limbs. Let
femininity come to the understanding that in proper dressing and
rational eating she will find the first and best materials for building
her house of beauty. It's all very well to wear pretty, fluffy,
lace-trimmed undergarments, but if you think that a wan, white, pinched
little face pays you for such extravagances in silliness, then you are
a ninny. Wear the fluffy things if you will, but put on the warm ones,
too. In making a choice between the raiments of a ballet dancer and
those of an Eskimo lady, I'd point the finger of approval toward the
latter--at least at those times when the thermometer is lounging around
the zero point.




                            THE THIN GIRL

                                "Beauty gives
    The features perfectness, and to the form
    Its delicate proportions."

    --_Willis._


Diogenes and his lantern had an easy, simple task. If they had started
out together to turn their searchlight of discovery upon a woman who
was neither too fat nor too thin, no doubt they'd been poking around in
other people's affairs ever since. I once heard of a woman to whom the
idea of gaining or reducing flesh had never occurred, but she died
before I got a chance to look at her, so of course I am rather doubtful
as to the truth of the story. To my mind she should have been made
president of something or other or else been put on exhibition where
the rest of suffering womankind could have gone and feasted their eyes
upon such an impossible paragon. If there is not a general wail about
over-weight or under-weight, then it's a thin neck, or big hips, or an
inclination to too much "tum-tum," or skinny arms, or cheeks like
miniature pumpkins--and goodness only knows what else. And by the time
one particular horror is massaged out of existence another crops up
like a spook in the closet of a "fraidy-cat" girl, and then the
business is begun all over again.

Therefore, say I this: Don't worry yourself into your grave about too
much flesh or a lack of it unless you find yourself taking on the
extreme proportions of a skeleton lady, or a museum exhibit of unusual
plumpness. A thin neck may be a bad thing--as all girls so afflicted
can testify--but if that thin neck is rebellious, and pays absolutely
no attention to tonics or massage or other coddling for which it should
rightly be grateful, then merely say, "All right, if you insist!" And
turn your attention to other things. What admirer of feminine beauty
would not look upon a bright mind, quick, kindly wits, and sweet
lovableness as a thousand times more acceptable than a neck as round
and perfect as that of a Venus?

On the other hand, let me say that, if you will merely look after your
health--exercise every day, be out of doors, eat proper foods and take
your daily sponge bath--you will keep your chest broad and full, and
your waist trim and neat. Breathing exercises every morning are
excellent for this happy condition of affairs. It is my firm belief
that women could mold their bodies as they would if they only had
patience and perseverance--not so much in flesh-gaining or
flesh-losing, but in being wholesomely strong and healthy. This is most
necessary, not only to prolong life and make it pleasanter and more
livable in every way, but to be what God evidently intended--a robust,
well-developed and perfectly formed woman.

Thin girls must be lazy and plump ones busy. If you work hard and have
the usual load of worries that half the women lug about with them as
they do their powder rags and their purses, then you may never hope to
revel in a vast amount of fat. Fretters are invariably thin; they
simply worry off the flesh faster than nature can create it.

When a woman is unusually slender it is her duty to get fat, not any
more for the reason that she will look prettier with the angles filled
out than for the reason that she will be stronger and healthier and in
a better condition to resist illness and fatigue. She should have at
least ten hours' sleep out of twenty-four, and this must be healthy
sleep in a well-ventilated bedroom, on a hard mattress, and with no
high pillows to make her stoop-shouldered and of ungainly figure. A nap
during the day is a good thing if one can afford the time. Absolute
freedom from care and anxiety are necessary, but--alas--we cannot
always regulate the antics of fate or circumstances that deny us these
sweet privileges. The diet must be of the most nourishing, and should
consist mostly of food containing starch and sugar, such as good fresh
butter, rich milk, cream, fruits both raw and cooked, macaroni, fish,
corn, sweet potatoes, peas, beans, ice creams, desserts without
pastries, and nourishing broths. Cereals, poultry, game, chocolate and
sweet grapes are all excellent. Avoid all spiced, acid or very salty
foods. While plenty of outdoor life is most essential, a great deal of
exercise is not. If there is any internal disease, especially the
slightest inclination to dyspepsia or liver trouble, one cannot
possibly gain flesh until the cause of the extreme slenderness is
removed. When the body is plump in one part and fails in another,
either massage or a gymnastic course is advised. Dumb-bells and Indian
clubs will develop the arms; massage with a fattening emollient,
together with loose clothing, tepid baths and breathing exercises, will
increase the size of the chest and bust, while swimming, moderate
bicycling and walking are good for nearly all plaints of the thin lady.

But until these changes are brought about--and it will take lots of
time--do not fret or worry. Merely wear your clothing very loose,
substitute a comfortable little waist for stiff, unwieldy corsets, and
see that your gowns are made full and dainty. In this last particular
you will have an immense advantage over the woman who would sell the
shoes off her feet to be thin and "willowy."




                           THE PLUMP GIRL

    "What's female beauty but an air divine,
    Through which the mind's all-gentle graces shine?
    They, like the sun, irradiate all between;
    The body charms, because the soul is seen."

    --_Young._


If one had to choose between being too fat or too lean, the wise woman
would certainly take the smaller allowance of flesh. Jack Sprat might
incite pleasant ridicule, but Jack Sprat's wife--lo! there would be
naught but pity and tears for her! It is better by far to be the butt
of jokes concerning "walking shoestrings" or "perambulating umbrella
cases" than to waddle through life burdened to death with an excessive
amount of flesh. The thin sister can pad out the angles, put frills and
puffy things over the bony places, but alas for the fat one! She gets
into clothes that are skin-tight, and she draws in her corset string
until it snaps and gives at every breath and sneeze, and even then she
does not look graceful and pretty, for the fat--like secrets--will out,
and it rolls over and around like the little bumps and humps in a
pudding bag.

[Illustration: LADY NAYLOR-LELAND]

Yet, after all, there's more hope for her than for her sister in
misery. While some thin girls might revel in cod liver oil and nearly
convert themselves into a hospital storeroom of tonics and fattening
foods, they can't get round and rotund--the Lord seems to will it that
certain persons are to amble disconsolately through life minus the
proper allotment of flesh. But with the overplump lady it all lies
within herself as to whether she is to be stout and buxom or of more
artistic and beautiful proportions. It is simply a matter of getting up
and hustling, a condition of animation frequently foreign to her
nature, but not at all impossible to even the most unwieldy.

While a certain careful routine of living is necessary for a speedy
change for the better, the two main points to remember are diet and
exercise. To the girl who says: "But I can't diet. I get hungry. I love
sweets and goodies, and have to have them," I must reply: "Well, then,
be fat." What is worth having is worth working for, and the woman who
is too fat for her own comfort and personal appearance invariably has
ahead of her the dreadful bogy of additional flesh as the years go on.
And surely that should be enough to inspire her to mend her ways.

In beginning the change--that is, in starting out on a regular system
of dieting and exercising--you should remember that the reform must be
worked gradually. One must go slowly into the more healthful manner of
living. The severe methods of flesh-reducing cannot be too greatly
deplored, and many a woman has lost her life by these extreme measures.
I do not mean that they have died at their exercisers or that they fell
exhausted because they did not have enough to eat, but that in their
mad efforts to become thin quickly they undermined their health and
laid a good foundation for physical disorders. Good health, with too
much plumpness, is preferable to beautiful proportions and the
listlessness and pain of ill health. So you can follow my advice with
the greatest safety, as health--to my way of thinking--is greater than
beauty, for the last depends upon the first, invariably.

To-morrow, when you get up, throw on a loose, warm wrapper, and then
open the window. Stand in the cool, crisp morning air, and expand your
lungs a dozen times, holding your hands on your hips and raising
yourself lightly on your toes. Vary this by walking across the room,
taking long, full breaths from the abdomen. This practice is equally
good for the thin girl, or any other kind of a girl, for that matter.
After airing your lungs close the window and run into the bath-room,
where you should have a quick sponge bath, rubbing the body briskly
with a heavy towel. A quick alcohol rub can follow, just as one
pleases. For breakfast let there be fresh uncooked fruit, especially
oranges. Tea or coffee must be taken clear, as neither milk nor sugar
should be indulged in by the beauty patient whose chief ambition it is
to lose flesh. Toast must always be eaten instead of bread, and butter
used sparingly at all times. Avoid fats, starchy cereals,
flesh-producing vegetables and pastries. This is very simple, when you
once make up your mind to it. Do not fancy you are thus left with
nothing whatever to eat--like Mother Hubbard's unhappy dog. Meats,
either cold or broiled, are good if eaten in moderation. Poultry, fish
and game are all right. Asparagus, string beans, spinach and tomatoes
are the most appetizing of vegetables, and in these four alone there
will be sufficient variety, especially when salads of all sorts are
included, although these must, of course, be taken without oil. Young
onions are also excellent, as are condiments, dried fruits and
acidulated drinks. A hot lemonade, taken every night, is good, but it
must have little sugar, else the effects of the acid will be
overbalanced.

As for exercise, walking is best of all. Running is very beneficial,
but the unique witticisms of the average small boy will probably keep
this form of exercise confined strictly to the house. Begin by walking
half a mile for several days, then make the distance a mile, and keep
increasing your daily walk until you cover at least five miles. That
may sound like an impossibility, but don't you believe it, for it's not
at all. In Great Britain a walk of fifteen miles is not considered half
an effort, and who does not know that the English girls have the most
superb complexions in the world? Besides this, they are healthy,
wholesome, well-developed women, and that counts a good deal in the
race for beauty. If the five-mile walk is too exhausting, then take a
longer time getting to the point, when it will be exhilarating instead
of enervating.

Sleep must be limited to seven hours, and daily naps are strictly
tabooed. To those who prefer, mechanical massage can be given, and this
will take the place of long walks, although they are really preferable,
as the fresh air is necessary. Oxygen destroys or burns out carbon, and
carbon is fat. The more exercise and fresh air, the more oxygen, and
consequently destruction of fat by the one healthy means of remedying
obesity. Soda phosphates and the various fat-reducing preparations are
not desirable. The only way to cajole willowiness of body into coming
in your direction is to diet and to take plenty of exercise. Do not
drink much water. A little lemon juice added to it will make it less
fattening.

There, now, plump lady, are your rules! Abide by them and your woes
will surely disappear with a swiftness that will make you laugh.




                          THE WORKING GIRL

    "Labor is life!--'Tis the still water faileth;
    Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth;
    Keep the watch wound, or the dark rust assaileth."

    --_Mrs. Frances S. Osgood._


It has often occurred to me that there are a vast number of plucky
little bread-winning girls and women to whom even a tiny jar of creme
marquise is a hopeless impossibility. For them is this chapter written.

In the first place, we all feel pretty sure that--in the great,
wonderful beginning of things--it was never meant that women should
work. We can't help knowing this when we look about us every night at
six o'clock and see the weary, patient, brave little faces that line
either side of the elevated trains or the crowded street cars. Women
are not given to the solving of problems, so we won't go into the great
"whys" or the "wherefores." That's a loss of time anyhow. But we will
do heaps better than that. We will try to be hopeful and cheery, and
learn how to make the best of the little happinesses that do come our
way.

The working girl--and we all take off our hats to her pluck--needs more
than any other class of womankind to take care of her health. She is
out in all kinds of weather, she works hard, and ofttimes struggles
through a daily routine that is harrowing beyond everything. After
hours there is mending to be done, or a thousand and one little duties
to keep her busy until, tired out and nerve-weary, she goes to bed to
gain rest and strength for the struggles of the morrow. She cannot
afford the little luxuries of the toilet that are so dear and near to
the heart of womankind the world over. The joys of having her hair
"done" or her pretty cheeks massaged are not hers--and the pity of it
is that often enough the fault lies not within herself, but in the
unhappy circumstances of fate that have placed her among the less
fortunate sisterhood.

Let a large bar of castile soap be the working girl's first investment.
I say a "large" bar for the reason that it is much cheaper when bought
that way. A good-sized piece of the pure white castile can be bought at
some of the drug stores for fifteen or twenty cents. This should be cut
into small cakes and put on a high shelf, where it will become dry and
hard and so it will be more lasting. With plenty of warm water, a few
good wash-rags and this pure soap you will have a beauty outfit that
will be more beneficial than all the rouges and eyebrow pencils that
were ever put into the windows of beauty shops.

The bath should be daily. Now do not say that you have not the time,
for the sponge bath--which will make the blood tingle and the flesh
glow--can be got through with in almost no time. It is most imperative
that the secretions of the skin and the dust gathered during the day
should be removed. When the body is not kept scrupulously clean the
complexion is sure to suffer, for there the pores of the skin are most
susceptible, and eruptions and blackheads come from very slight causes.
When the hands become rough and tender, and will not stand soap,
prepare a little almond meal. This, too, is very inexpensive, for,
instead of the powdered almonds, you can use the pressed almond cake,
which is nearly as good and very cheap, and in place of the orris root
wheat flour can be used. Take three ounces of the first and seven of
the latter. If you can afford it, add a little powdered talcum. A cream
for the face and hands, and one which can be used with perfect safety,
is benzoinated mutton tallow. This is simply the best mutton tallow to
which benzoin has been added, and both ingredients kept at a steady
heat until the alcohol of the benzoin has been completely evaporated.

About the hair: The greatest secret of luxuriant locks is absolute
cleanliness. There are many women who vainly fancy that they keep their
pretty locks perfectly clean, when they really do not at all. Only
plenty of running water can thoroughly rinse the soap or shampoo out.
If the hair is at all sticky, or if a slight oily substance adheres to
the comb, then the hair is not clean. (And let me say right here, combs
and brushes too must be kept as scrupulously clean as the hair itself.)
Castile soap makes the best shampoo in the world, especially when a
little piece is dissolved in warm water and a tiny bit of ammonia or
alcohol added, although for dry hair neither the alcohol nor ammonia is
at all necessary. If a tonic is needed, then use the sage tea, which,
however, must not be put on light, blond tresses. Common kerosene, if
one can endure the odor, is an unsurpassed remedy for falling hair.
Rubbing the scalp every night with the finger tips until the flesh
tingles and glows is a most inexpensive way of stimulating the
circulation, and frequently makes the hair grow long and nice and fine.

What one eats plays such a leading part in the beauty-getting
efforts--but I have but little space left now to tell about that.
Summed up in a nutshell, it is this: Eat very little pastry, and shun
greasy foods or fat meats, like pork or bacon. Pin your faith to
vegetables and fruit. A luncheon of two apples is of greater
nourishment, and more, real value to good looks, than a repast of mince
pie and coffee--two unspeakable horrors to any one who regards health
and beauty as worth the having or the striving for.

As for the dress, I could write a seven volume treatise on that. It
sounds prosy, I know, and very stupid, but let me tell you that it is
the wise girl who buys for comfort, utility and wear, instead of style
and elaborateness. A plain little fedora, if well brushed, makes a
trimmer, neater appearance than a cheap velvet hat ornamented with
feathers that have straightened out and flowers that have long since
lost their glory in the rains and storms of autumn time. It is the same
way with shoes and gloves. If one can possibly afford it, calfskin
boots and heavy gloves should always be purchased. They will not only
outwear two or three pairs of the lighter, less durable kind, but they
will give warmth and comfort and a well-groomed look as well.




                            THE NERVOUS ONE

    "The beautiful seems right by force of beauty; and the feeble
    wrong because of weakness."--_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._


Of all the unfortunates on the face of the globe there is none so
worthy of real all-wool pity and yard-wide sympathy as the woman of
nerves. Yes, and her family needs a dash of consolation, too. One
nervous woman can create more nervousness among other women than could
a cageful of mice or a colony of cows suddenly let loose. It is not for
herself that the fuss-budget should mend her ways, but for the great
good of humanity at large.

We are all of us more or less nervous, and it is really interesting to
observe what strange outlets woman's natural nervousness chooses.

"I'd walk from Hyde Park to the city hall at midnight and never be a
bit scared. But let me stay in the flat alone after dark and I'm in a
state of terror that would make you weep were you to behold me,"
confesses nervous lady No. 1.

"I have nerves of iron," pipes up nervous lady No. 2. "Except when
there is a thunderstorm. Then I wish I were as dead as Julius Cæsar."

"Well!" drawls nervous lady No. 3. "I don't believe in ghosts at all,
but I'm scared to death of 'em. Sometimes I not only keep the gas
burning all night, but I sit up in bed so as to be right ready to run
away from 'em."

Some people have contempt for the nervous ones. I have only pity. Any
one who has gone through the tortures of hearing imaginary burglars
three nights in the week for ten or twelve years on an endless stretch
needs consolation and then a good, straight talk on the beautiful
convenience of horse sense. Most women are always hearing burglars.
Probably one in a thousand turns out to be a real, live housebreaker.
Whenever the wise woman hears one fussing with the lock on the front
door or trying to squeeze into the pantry window, she just says: "Same
old burglar. He'll be gone in the morning," and he always is. That's a
heap better plan than arousing the household and suffering the
unmerciful torture that a family given to ridicule can inflict.

I heard a woman say the other day that she never knew what it was to be
nervous until a certain ragman began to take pedestrian exercises up
and down the alley back of her house. He carries a canvas bag over his
shoulder, and he yells "Eny ol' racks" until that woman locks herself
in a closet and stuffs sofa cushions into her ears. His "Eny ol' racks"
has got on her nerves so that she is simply beside herself until that
man takes himself and his yell out of hearing distance. To be sure, he
yells through his nose, but why in the world that woman should make
herself miserable about something she can't possibly help is a
double-turreted mystery to me. The thing for her to do is to sit down
placidly on the back porch and make up her mind that the ragman is not
going to upset the tranquillity of her existence; that he hasn't any
right to interfere with her happiness, and that she isn't going to be
fool enough to let him. I'll wager a peseta against a gum drop that she
could do it, too, and without half an effort, if she would only once be
consistent and determined.

There is no use in beating about the bush. I feel sorry for the nervous
woman at all times and every day in the week, but there's no chance of
a doubt that the nervous woman is mentally unbalanced for want of
courage and lack of will power. Some place, way back in the far corners
of her intellect, there are numerous little sore spots that need the
healing tonic of level-headedness and the bravery of belief in her own
strength. Those wise gentlemen of pellets and pills tell us that when
there is a defect in the structure of the nervous system, some certain
region of cells not well flushed with blood is usually at the bottom of
the infirmity. The cure, they say, is discipline and training, good
food, exercise and plenty of sleep and good fresh air.

[Illustration: MRS. J. R. DE LAMAR]

Sunlight is a glorious medicine for the woman of nerves. If I had a
nervous fuss-budget under my care, the first thing I would do would be
to feed her well. I'd give her nourishing broths and daintily-served
vegetables, and little steaks and chops and plenty of fattening cereals
and drinks. I would bundle her off to the parks every morning with
sealed orders not to come back until she was dead tired and as hungry
as a small girl at a boarding school. I would impress upon her mind the
great need of throwing worry to the winds and taking in good, long
breaths of God's blessed fresh air. Then, after feeding her some more,
I'd make her take a nice, refreshing sponge bath and tumble early into
bed. After several days of such treatment I'd corner her where she
couldn't get away and lay down the laws.

"Now it's just with yourself," the lecture would begin with, "whether
you are to be a jolly-hearted, wholesome-looking woman or a tailor-made
gown with a bundle of nerves inside of it. No matter what comes, don't
make yourself wretched by fretting. Every one has troubles. You can't
escape them. Sometimes they come with a sweep-like tornadoes gone mad,
and you'll say to yourself: 'My heavens! I wonder if I'll live through
it all?' But you will, and between you and me, my dear, it's just as
well to come out of the battle with a smiling face as with eight
additional crow's feet and a new scolding lock of gray hair. Just say
to yourself: 'I will not grind my teeth because the man next to me in
the street car is chewing a toothpick. I am not responsible for his
lack of manners. I positively refuse to have fits because the woman in
the flat next to mine plays the flute eight hours a day. If it's
convenient I'll move; if it isn't I'll not make existence a daylight
nightmare.'

"School yourself!" I will continue. "Get lots of starch in you and a
backbone that is a backbone! Don't fall down in a heap and mope over
things you can't help. The agreeable things in life are as rare as
sage-brush growing in Gotham, while the disagreeable is bobbing up
eternally. So brace up, my friend, and make the best of it. Discipline
yourself. Keep your mind fresh and bright, and your body strong and
healthy. If you have hard work to do then do it with the least possible
expenditure of worry and nerve-force. Be in the open air as much as you
can, and above everything else dwell not on the unhealthy state of your
nerves. Let self-mastery be your shibboleth and 'no nerves' your
prayer."




                              PERFUMES

    "Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,
    By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
    The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem,
    For that sweet odor which doth in it live."

    --_Shakespeare._


Women love delicate perfumes as they do silk stockings and violets.
It's just "born in 'em," like their deep-rooted horror of mice and
bills and burglars. From the time when the baby girl sniffs the
sweetness of the powder puff as it fluffs about her soft, pretty neck
until the white-haired lady lovingly fondles the lavender sachets that
lie between the folds of her time-yellowed wedding gown, she loves
sweet odors.

The true gentlewoman never uses strong perfumes, yet her hats and
clothing and handkerchiefs always send forth a faint scent of fragrant
flowers. The odor is so very slight that it does not suggest the
dashing on of perfume, but, instead, bespeaks scrupulous cleanliness of
body and garments, with perhaps an added suggestion of the soft winds
that blow over a clover field. No perfume at all is far better than too
much, for who does not look with suspicious eyes upon the woman who,
when passing one on the street, seems to be in an invisible vapor of
white rose or jockey club--strong enough to work on the streets?

There is a secret about it all, and such a simple one! It is merely
choosing one particular odor and using it in every possible way. There
is nothing sweeter than violet perfume, so suppose I illustrate with
that? Begin by using orris root for your teeth, combined, of course,
with the other necessary ingredients. Then, if you can afford it, get
the expensive imported violet soaps, although as a matter of
beautifying there is nothing better than the pure white castile. The
odor of this, disliked by some, can be entirely done away with by using
a little violet toilet water in the bath and touching the ear lobes
with it afterward.

Then, between the folds of your gowns and in the crowns of your hats
lay little violet sachets, always removing them before the gown or hat
is worn, as the perfume must be faint and delicate. A few drops of
essence of violet will scent your face powder, if it is not already
perfumed, and bath bags of orris--and other good things--will add to
your galaxy of sweet odors. If you use creme marquise or any of the
other delightful cosmetics told about in our beauty book, add a little
essence of violets to them while they are being mixed. Putting it all
in a nutshell: Simply choose your favorite perfume and carry it out in
every detail. For those who are fond of violet I will give the
following recipes:


    Creme de la Violettes: Place in a porcelain kettle one ounce each
    of white wax and spermaceti, cut in fine shavings. When melted add
    to this five ounces oil of sweet almonds and heat, but do not let
    boil. Remove from fire and pour in quickly one and one-half ounces
    of rose-water in which ten grains of borax has been dissolved. Beat
    briskly. When beginning to thicken, add one-half teaspoonful
    essence of violets. When nearly cold put in little jars. Use as
    cold cream or any general face cosmetic. It is more effective when
    applied at night, just after the face is bathed in warm water and
    while the flesh is pink and moist.


    Perfume--Violettes de Bois:

    Essence of violets, five ounces.
    Essence of acacia, one ounce.
    Essence of rose, one ounce.
    Extract of iris root, one ounce.
    Oil of bitter almonds, five drops.


    Violet Lotion:

    Alcohol, four ounces.
    Ammonia, one ounce.
    Essence of violets, one dram.

    Add one teaspoonful of this to a bowl of water when bathing the
    face, neck and arms. Hard water is the cause of many bad
    complexions, and this will remedy that particular trouble of the
    beauty-seeker.


    Poudre de Vicomtesse:

    Talcum powder, seven and one-half ounces.
    Finest starch, one and one-fourth ounces.
    Powdered orris root, one and one-fourth ounces.
    Oil of orris, ten drops.


    Violet Bath Bags:

    Two pounds of finely ground oatmeal.
    Three ounces of almond flour.
    One cake of best white castile soap, shaved fine.
    One-quarter pound powdered orris root.

    Take one yard of cheese cloth and make it into little bags about
    four inches square and fill with the mixture. These will make a
    soft white lather, and afterward the face, neck and arms should be
    rinsed in water containing a few drops of benzoin. Larger bags can
    be made for the regular bath.


    For the Teeth:

    One-fourth pound of prepared chalk, finely powdered.
    Three-fourths ounce pulverized castile soap.
    One ounce powdered orris root.
    One-half dram oil of sassafras.
    One ounce pulverized sugar.


    Violet Sachet:

    Black currant leaves, powdered, one-fourth pound.
    Rose leaves, one-fourth pound.
    Cassia buds, one-eighth pound.
    Orris, ground, one-half pound.
    Gum benzoin, one-eighth pound.
    Grain musk, powdered, one-fourth dram.
    Mix thoroughly and let stand for one week.


    Violet Toilet Water:

    Essence of violet, one and three-fourth ounces.
    Essence of rose, one-half ounce.
    Essence of cassie, one-half ounce.
    Alcohol, 14 ounces.


    Essence de Fleur d'Oranges:

    One-half ounce pure neroli.
    One pint alcohol.
    One ounce essence of jonquille.


    Violet Sachet Powder:

    Eight ounces of orris root.
    Five drops oil of bergamot.
    Three drops oil of bitter almonds.
    Four drops oil of rose.
    One fluid dram tincture of musk.
    Mix thoroughly.


    Lavender Sachet Powder:

    One pound powdered lavender.
    One-quarter pound gum benzoin (powdered).
    Six ounces oil of lavender.
    Mix.


    Heliotrope Sachet Powder:

    One-quarter pound rose leaves.
    Two ounces tonquin, ground fine.
    One-quarter pound pulverized orris root.
    One ounce vanilla (powdered).
    One-half grain musk.
    Two drops oil of almonds.
    Mix by fluffing through a sieve.






