softening cream.
At the least, for twenty minutes a day—and let it always be liquid and oily, so as to keep the softness of your face!
4 — From age 40 upward.
If you have given your face its due of care, it is still well, with a touch of youth upon it; wrinkles appear, but they are light... From now on, double your efforts and your attention, for you are struggling against the current of age: the fatty layer beneath the skin has begun to run dry and shrink.
What do you do to keep your skin supple?
Do you wipe it carefully and gently? Do you protect it from the harshness of the weather and the scorch of the winds? And do you make up for the natural oil with cream?
Hasten to adopt some means that will show you radiant and glowing, with lasting youth and refreshing vitality, so that no observer could ever think you had passed
even thirty.
Avoid the gestures and habits that leave plain traces: do not frown,
or raise your eyebrows every little while. Make it your habit to apply cream at night, or on
The snow is falling and the winds are fierce with a biting, bitter frost, and the people come and go, making ready for the feast. The shops are full of necessities and luxuries, and people buy what is needed and what is not. The faces of the little ones brim over with gladness in readiness for the feast. The tree glows and lights their innocent, happy faces with its candles. A smile plays upon the mothers' lips, and the fathers are proud. And the kitchen is full of every kind of meat and sweets and fruit. The happy family delights in the sumptuous supper, the warmth, and the peace of mind. And there, at the dining-room window, a small hand wipes the spray of snow and rain from the glass. The poor girl gazes with astonished eyes at
what she sees. In her look is pain, in her depths deprivation, in her bearing supplication. Two bare feet bitten by the cold, an old, loose dress, two small trembling hands, disheveled hair, and a pale, round, beautiful face. The lights of the tree are reflected upon it, kindling in it something of a bitter gladness and the shadow of a smile that fades away from the pain of sorrow and orphanhood. A fine nose pressed to the cracks of the window, and two thin, dry lips!
The maid catches sight of the little one's shadow and scolds her away. She turns and flees, heedless of everything, into the winding streets that took pity on her and sheltered her from the rain and the heavily falling snow—while no human being showed her mercy!!!