‘ ‘ You are offended : that' s ment a warm, mysterious hand slipped round “ No,” she said. her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “ Then will you shake hands ? ” “ Oh, dear !” said Anne, with a sudden Anne hesitated; than slowly stretched out start away. her hand, which he took at once. “ That will “ How nervous you are, child, to be startled do," she said, finding that he did not relinquish by fireworks so far off,” said Mrs. Loveday. it immediately. But as he still held it, she “ I never saw rockets before,” murmured pulled, the effect of which was to draw Bob’s Anne, recovering from her surprise. swaying person, bough and all, toward her, Mrs, Loveday presently spoke again. “ I and herself toward him. wonder what has become of Bob ? ” “ I am afraid to let go your hand,” said that Anne did not reply, being much exercised officer; “ for if I do your spar will fly back, in trying to get her hand, away from the one and you will be thrown upon the deck with that imprisoned it ; and whatever the miller great violence.” thought he kept to him self because it dis­ “ I wish you to let me go! ” turbed his smoking to speak. He accordingly did, and she flew back, but Another hatch of rockets went up. “ Oh, did not by any means fall. I never!” said Anne, in a half-suppressed “ It reminds me of the times when I used to tone, springing in her chair. A second hand be aloft clinging to a yard not much bigger had with the rise of the rockets leapt round than this tree-stem, in the mid-Atlantic, and her waist. thinking about you. I could see you in my “ Poor girl, you certainly must have change fancy as plain as I see you now.” of scene at this rate ! ” said Mrs. Loveday. “ Me, or some other woman ?” retorted Anne “ I suppose I must,” murmured the dutiful haughtily. daughter. No ! ” declared Bob, shaking the bush for For some minutes nothing further occurred emphasis, " I’ll protest that I did not think of to disturb Anne’s serenity. Then a slow, anybody but you all the time we were drop­ quiet " a-hem ” came from the obscurity of ping down channel, all the time we were off the apartment. Cadiz, all the time through battles and bom­ "What, Bob? How long have you been bardments. I seemed to see you in the smoke, there ? ” inquired Mrs. Loveday. and, thinks I, if I go to Davy's locker, what " “ Not long,” said the lieutenant coolly. will she do ? ” “ I heard you were all here, and crept up “ You didn’t think that when you landed quietly, not to disturb ye.” after Trafalgar.” “ Why don’t you wear heels to your shoes “ Well, now,” said Lieutenant Loveday in like Christian people, and not creep about so like a cat ? ” a reasoning tone, “ that was a furious thing. “ Well, it keeps your floors clean to go You’ll hardly believe it, maybe ; but when a slip-shod.” man is away from the woman he loves best “ That’s true.“ in the port—world I mean, he can have a sort Meanwhile Anne was gently but firmly try- of temporary feeling for another without dis­ ing to pull Bob's arm from her waist, her dis­ turbing the old one, which flows along under tressful difficulty being that in freeing her the same as ever.” waist she enslaved her hand, and in getting " I can’ t believe it, and won’t,” said Anne her hand free she enslaved her waist. Finding firmly. the struggle a futile one, owing to the invisi­ Molly now appeared with the empty basket, bility of her antagonist, and her wish to keep and when it had been filled from the heap on its nature secret from the other two, she the grass, Anne went home with her, bidding arose, and saying that she did not care to see Loveday a frigid adieu. any more, felt her way down stairs. Bob fol­ The same evening, when Bob was absent, lowed, leaving Loveday and his wife to them­ the miller proposed that they should all three selves. go to an upper window of the house, to g et a “ Dear Anne," he began, when he had got distant view of some rockets and illuminations down, and saw her in the candlelight of the | which were to he exhibited in Weymouth at large room. But she adroitly passed out at that hour in honor of the King, who had re- the other door, at which he took a candle and turned this year as usual. They accordingly wentfollowed her to the small room. “ Dear Anne, upstairs to an empty attic, placed chairs do let me speak,” he repeated as soon as the against the window, and put out the light, rays revealed her figure. But she passed into Anne sitting in the middle, her mother close the bakehouse before he could say more by, and the miller behind, smoking. No sign whereupon he perseveringly did the same. of any pyrotechnic display was visible over Looking round for her here, he percieved her Weymouth as yet, and Mrs. Loveday passed at the end of the room, where there were no the time by talking to the miller, who replied means of exit whatever. in monosyllabes. While this was going on “ Dear Anne,” he began again, getting j Anne fancied that she heard some one down the candl e , " you m u s t try to forgive aproach, and presently felt sure that Bob was me ; really you must. I l o v e you best of drawing near her in the surrounding darkness, anybody in the w ide wide wide world. Try to for­ but as the other two had noticed nothing, she give me; come. ” A ny imploringly took said not a word. her hand. All at once the swarthy expanse of south- | Anne’s bosom began to surge and fall l i k e ward sky was broken by the blaze of several a small tide; her eyes remaining fixed upon rockets simultaneously ascending from differ­ the floor; till w h e n Loveday ventured to ent ships in the roads. At the very same mo- draw her slightly toward him, she burst out crying. “ I don't like you, Bob; I don't!" 'to dig It up from the she suddenly Exclaimed between her sobs, cellar ? " “ I did once, but I don't now—I can't, I “ Ah ; my nephew hath a scent of the place can't ; you have been very cruel to me !" —how, I don't know ! but he and a young She violently turned away, weeping. woman he's met with are searching every­ “ I have, I have been terribly bad, I know," where. I worked like a wire-drawer to get it answered Bob, conscience-stricken by her up and away while they were scraping in the grief. “ But—if you could only forgive me— ! next cellar. Now where could ye put it, I promise that I'll never do anything to grieve dear? 'Tis 'only my few documents, and my ye again. Do you forgive me, Anne ?" will, and such like, you know. Poor soul o' Anne's only reply was crying and shaking me, I'm worn out with running and fright ! " her head. “ I'll put it here till I can think of a better “ Let's make it up. Come, say we have place," said Anne, lifting the box. “ Dear made it up, dear." me, how heavy it is !" She withdrew' her hand, and still keeping “ Yes, yes," said Uncle Benjy hastily ; “ the her eyes buried in her handkerchief, said, box is iron, you dee. However, take care of “ No." it, because I am going to make it worth your “ Very well, then ! " exclaimed Bob with while. Ah, you are a good girl, Anne. I sudden determination. “ Now I know my wish you was mine !" doom ! And whatever you hear of as happen­ Anne looked at Uncle Benjy. She had ing to me, mind this, you cruel girl, that it is known for some time that she possessed all all your causing !" Saying this he strode the affection he had to bestow. with a hasty tread across the room into the “ W hy do you wish that?" she said, passage and out at the door, slamming it simply. loudly behind him. “ Now don't ye argue with me. Where d'ye Anne suddenly looked up from her hand­ put the coffer ? " kerchief, and stared with round wet eyes and “ Here," said Anne, going to the window- parted lips at the door by which he had gone. seat, which rose as a flap, disclosing a boxed Having remained with suspended breath in receptacle beneath, as in many old houses. this attitude for a few seconds, she turned “ 'Tis very well for the present," he said round, bent her head upon the table, and dubiously, and they dropped the coffer in, burst out weeping anew with thrice the vio­ Anne locking down the seat, and giving him lence of the former time. It really seemed the key. “ Now I don't want ye to be on my how as if her grief would overwhelm her, all side for nothing,” he went on. “ I never did the emotions which had been suppressed, hot- now, did I? This is for you." He handed tied up, and concealed since Bob's return hav­ her a little jacket in paper, which Anne ing made themselves a sluice at last. turned over and looked at curiously. “ I But such things have their end; and, left always meant to do it," continued Uncle to herself in the large, vacant, old apartment, Benjy, gazing at the packet as it lay in her she grew quieter and at last calm. At length hand, and sighing. “ Come, open it, my she took the candle and ascended to her bed­ dear ; I always meant to do it." room, where she bathed her eyes and looked She opened it and found twenty new guineas in the glass to see if she had made herself a snugly packed within. dreadful object. It was not so bad as she had “ Yes, they are for you. I always meant expected, and she went down-stairs again. to do i t ! " he said, sighing again. Nobody was there, and, sitting down, she “ But you owe me nothing!" returned wondered what Bob had really meant by his Anne, holding them out. words. It was too dreadful to think that he “ Don t say it! ” cried Uncle Benjy, cover­ intended to go straight away to sea without ing his eyes. “ Put 'em away...... Well, seeing her again, and frightened at what she if you don't want ’em— But put 'em away, had done, she waited anxiously for his re­ dear Anne; they are for you, because you turn. ______have kept my counsel. Good night f ye. ! Yes, they are for you." CHAPTER XL. He went a few steps, and turning back A CALL ON BUSINESS. added anxiously, “ You won’t spend 'em in Her Suspense was interrupted by a very clothes, or waste 'em in fairings, or ornaments g e n t le tapping at the door, and then the rustle of any kind, my dear girl ? " o f a hand over its surface, as if searching for “ I will not," said Anne. “ I wish you t h e latch in the dark. The door opened a few would have them." inches, and the alabaster face of Uncle Benjy “ No, no,” said Uncle Benjy, rushing off to appeared in the slit. escape their shine. But he had got no " Squire Derriman, you frighten m e !” farther than the passage when he returned “ All alone ? " he asked in a whisper. again. “ My mother and Mr. Loveday are some- j “ And you won’t lend 'em to anybody, or whereabout house.” put them into the bank—for no bank is safe That will do, he said, coming forward. in these troublous times. . . . If I was you “ I be wherrited ou t of my life, and I have I I'd keep them exactly as they be, and not thought of you again—you yourself, dear: spend 'em on any account. Shall I lock them Anne, and not the milter. If you will only j into my box for ye ? ” take this and lock it up for a few days till “ Certainly’ said she ; and the farmer rap­ can find another good place for it—if you, only idly unlocked the window-bench, opened the would." And he breathlessly deposited the I box, and locked them in. tin box on the table. " ' T i s much the best plan," he said with, DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 9 trifled with him in all manner o f cruel ways— “ N—no—no, thanky, Fetus : it is n—n— and all the month. The mill-pond was pushed him into the river, tried to steal his not heavy at all, thanky gasped the squireen. dragged, quarries were examined, woods were horse when he was called out to defend his “ Oh, but I must,’’ said Festus, pulling at threaded, rewards were offered : but in vain. country—in short, served him rascally. So I the box. At length one day in the spring, when the gave him the two guineas and said, ' Now “ Don't let him have it, Bob !" screamed the mill-house was about to be cleaned through­ let’s drink to the hussy's downfall! ” excited Anne through the hole in the floor. out, the chimney-board of Anne’s bedroom, “ Oh ! " said Anne, having approached be­ “ No, don’t let him,” cried the uncle. " ’Tis concealing a yawning fire-place, had to be hind him. a plot—there's a woman at the window wait­ taken down. In the chasm behind it stood Bob turned and saw her, and at the same ing to help him !" the missing deed-box of Farmer Derriman. moment Mr. and Mrs. Loveday discreetly re­ Anne’s eyes flew to the window, and she saw Many were the conjectures as to how it tired by the other door. Matilda's face pressed against the pane. had got there. Then Anne remembered that “ Is it peace? " he asked tenderly. Bob, though he did not know whence Anne’s on going to bed the night after the collision “ Oh yes," she anxiously replied. ‘ “ I — command proceeded, obeyed with: alacrity, between Festus and his uncle in the room didn't mean to make you think I had no pulled the box from the two relatives, and below, she had seen mud on the carpet of her heart." At this Bob inclined his countenance placed it on the table beside him. room, and the miller remembered that he had towards hers. “ N o," she said smiling “ Now, look here, hearties; whit’s the seen foot-prints on the back staircase. The through two incipient tears as she drew back, meaning o' this?" he said. solution of the mystery seemed to be that the “ you are to show good behavior for six “ He's trying to rob me of all I possess! ” late Uncle Benjy, instead of running off from months, and yon must promise not to frighten cried the old man. “ My heart strings seem the house with his box, had doubled on get­ me again by running off when I—show you as if they were going to crack, crack, crack !" ting out of the front door, entered at the how badly you have served me. " At this instant the miller in his shirt sleeves back, deposited his box in Anne’s chamber “ I am yours obedient—in anything," cried entered the room, having got thus far in his were it was found, and then leisurely pursued Bob. “ But am I pardoned? " undressing when he heard the noise. Bob and his way home at the heels of Festus, intend­ “ A too easy pardon is apt to make folk re­ Festus turned to him to explain; and when ing to tell Anne of his trick the next day—an peat the fault. Do you repent ? " the latter had had his say Boh added, “ Well, intention that was forever frustrated by the It would he superfluous to transcribe Bob’s all I know is that this box ”—here he stretched stroke of death. answer. out his hand to lay it upon the lid for emphasis Mr. Derriman's solicitor was a Weymouth Footsteps were heard without. sis. But as nothing but thin air met his fin gets man, and Anne placed the box in his hands. “ 0, begad ; I forgot! " said Bob. “ He's where the box had been, he turned, and found Uncle Benjy's will was discovered within ; waiting out there for a light." that the box was gone, Uncle Benjy having and by this testament Anne's queer-old friend “ W h o?" vanished also. appointed her sole executrix of his said will, “ My friend Derriman." Festus, with an imprecation, hastened to and, more than that, gave and bequeathed to “ But, Bob, I have to explain." the door, hut though the night was not dark. the same young lady all his real aud personal But Festus had by this time entered the Farmer Derriman and his burden were no­ estate, with the solitary exception of five lobby, and Anne with a hasty “ Get rid of him where to be seen. On the bridge Festus small freehold houses in a backstreet in Wey­ at once ! " vanished up-stairs. joined a shadowy female form, and they went mouth, which were devised to his nephew, Here she waited and waited, but Festus did along the road together, followed for some dis­ Festus, as sufficient property to maintain him not seem inclinded to depart; and at last, fore­ tance by Bob, lest they should meet with and decently, without affording any margin for boding some collision of interests from Bob's harm the old man. But the precaution was extravagances. Overcombe Hall, with its new friendship for this man, she crept into a unnecessary: nowhere on the road was there muddy quadrangle, archways, mullioned win­ storeroom which was over the apartment into any sign of Farmer Derriman, or of the box dows, cracked battlements, and weed-grown which Loveday and Festus had gone. By that belonged to him. When Bob re-entered garden, passed with the rest into the hands of looking through a knot-hole in the floor it was the house, Anne and Mrs. Loveday had joined Anne. easy to command a view of the room beneath, the miller down-stairs, and then for the first this being uncoiled; with moulded beams and time he learnt who had been the heroine of CHAPTER XLI. rafters. Festus's lamentable story, with many other FAREWELL. Festus had sat down on the hollow window - particulars of that yeoman’s history which he bench, and was continuing the statement of had never before known. Bob swore that he During this exciting time John Loveday his wrongs. “ If he only knew what he was would not speak to the traitor again, and the seldom or never appeared at the mill. With sitting upon," she thought apprehensively, family retired. the recall of Bob, in which he had been sole “ how easily he could tear up the flap, lock The escape of old Mr. Derriman from the agent, his mission seemed to be complete. One mid-day before Anne had made any and all, with his strong arm, and seize upon annoyances of his nephew not only held good change in her manner of living on account of poor Uncle Benjy’b Possessions! " But he did for that night, but for next day, and forever. not appear to know, unless he were acting, Just after dawn on the following morning, a her unexpected acquisitions, Lieutenant Bob came in rather suddenly. He had been to which was just possible. After a while he laboring man, who was going to his work, saw Weymouth, and announced to the arrested rose, and going to the table lifted the candle the old farmer and landowner leaning over a senses of the family that the —th Dragoons to light his pipe. At the moment when the rail in a mead near his house, apparently en­ were ordered to join Sir Arthur Wellesley in flame began diving, into the bowl, the door gaged in contemplating the water of a brook the Peninsula. noiselessly opened and a figure slipped across before him. Drawing near, the man spoke, but These tidings produced a great impression the room to the window-bench, hastily un­ Uncle Benjy did not reply. His head was in the household. John had been so long in locked it, withdrew! the box, and beat a re­ hanging strangely, his body being supported treat. Anne in a moment recognized the in its ereot position entirely by the fail that the neighborhood, either at camp or in bar­ ghostly intruder as Festus Derriman’s uncle. passed under each arm. On after-examination racks, that they had almost forgotten the pos­ Before he could get out of the room, Festus set it was found that Uncle Benjy's poor withered sibility of his being sent away ; and they now down the candle and turned. heart had cracked and stopped its beating from began to reflect upon the singular infrequency “ What—Uncle Benjy—haw, haw ! Here at damages inflicted on it by the excitements of of his calls since his brother’s return. There this time of night ? " his life, and of the previous night in particu­ was not much time, however, for reflection, if Uncle Benjy’s eyes grew paralyzed, and his lar. The unconscious carcase was little more they wished to make the most of John’s fare-, mouth opened and shut like a frog’s in a than a light empty husk, dry and fleshless as well visit, which was to be paid the same drought, the action producing no sound. that of a dead heron found on a moor in Janu­ evening, the departure of the regiment being “ What have we got here—a tin box—the ary. fixed for next day. A hurried valedictory box of boxes? Why, I'll carry it for ye, But the tin box was not discovered with or supper was prepared during the afternoon uncle ! I am going home. ” near him. It was searched for all the week, and shortly afterwards John arrived. 10 DEMOREST'S Monthly magazine,

Ho seemed to be more thoughtful and a few following years', and their bones left to out of skimpy materials, with but two hours trifle paler than of old, but beyond these moulder in the land of their campaigns. to do it in, the chances are, that, nervous fin- traces, which might have been due to the John lingered behind. When the others gers will get completely paralysed, and what natural wear and tear of time, He showed no were outside, expressing a final farewell to his little wit was possessed in the commencement signs of gloom. On his way through the father, Bob, and Mrs. Loveday, he came ,to will fly at once! town that morning a curious little incident Anne, who remained within. So the young woman, standing before the had occurred to him. He was walking past " But I thought you were going to look in old cracked looking-glass, turning this way and one of the Weymouth churches when a wed­ again before leaving ? ” she said. that, to catch a comprehensive; glance of all ding party came forth, the bride and bride­ sides, had only one thought—to get away from “ No ; I find I cannot. Good-bye.” groom being Matilda and Festus Derriman. the fire of fretful complaints that Aunt Mar­ At sight of the trumpet-major the yeoman had “ John,” said Anne, holding his right hand tha’s querulous tongue had furnished for her glared triumphantly; Matilda, on her part, in both hers, “ I must tell you something. edification through all the work. had winked at him slyly, as much as to say— You were wise in not taking me at my word “ You’ve spilt that bow,” said Aunt Martha But what she meant heaven knows ; the trum­ that day. I was greatly mistaken about my­ critically, perking up her spectacles, and com­ pet-major did not trouble himself to think, self. Gratitude is not love, though I wanted ing up for a nearer view. “ Why didn’t you and passed on without returning the mark of I to make it so for the time. You don’t call me stick that end up higher?” confidence with which she had favored him. thoughtless for what I did ? ” “ Because then that showed where the rib­ Soon after John’s arrival at the mill, several “ My dear Anne,” cried John, with more bon was pieced,” said Hester, with a little of his friends dropped in for the same purpose gayety than truthfulness, “ don’t let yourself laugh, trying hard to be patient. “ Poor folks, of bidding adieu. They were mostly the men be troubled. What happens is for the best, aunty, mustn’t expect to be very elegant." who had been entertained there on the occa- Soldiers love here to-day and there to-morrow. “ Humph ! I like to see things done nice," sion of the regiment’s adyent on the down, Who knows that you won’t hear of my atten- said her aunt, going back to the window, to when Anne and her mother were coaxed in to tions to some Spanish maid before a month is crane her neck after a passer-b y. grace the party by their superior presence, j gone by ? ’Tis the way of us, you know ; a That was too much ! That Hester, with her and their well-trained, gallant manners were soldier's heart is not worth a week’s purchase trim neat ways and her deftness with her such as to make them interesting visitors now —ha, ha! Good-bye, good-bye.” needle, should have her pride over her one as at all times. For it was a period when Anne felt the expediency of his manner, re­ little “ faculty” taken away, was the last romance had not so greatly faded out of mili­ ceived the affectation as real, and smiled her drop, and threw her completely off her guard. tary life as it has done in these days of short reply, not knowing that the adieu was for “ There couldn’t anybody please you,” she service, heterogeneous mixing, and transient evermore, and that John would like a soldier cried passionately, twitching the bonnet off campaigns, when the esprit de corps was strong, fall. Then he went out of the door, where he from her head, “ if they worked a thousand and long experience stamped noteworthy pro­ bade adieu to the miller, Mrs. Loveday, and years; it is bad enough to have a horrid old fessional characteristics even on commonplace Bob, who said at parting, “ It’s all right, Jack, bonnet, without being scolded to death over rank and file ; while the miller’s visitors had my dear fellow. After a coaxing that would i t ! ” And with that she flounced out of the the additional advantage of being picked men. have been enough to win three ordinary Eng­ room! They could not stay so long to-night as on lishwomen, five French, and ten Mulotters, Up in her own poor little room she stood, that earlier and more cheerful occasion, and she has to-day agreed to bestow her hand upon scornfully twirling the offending headgear the final adieus were spoken at an early hour. me at the end of six months. Good-bye, Jack, around and around, to see if there were any It was no mere playing at departure, as when good-bye.” redeeming feature. Finding! none, but, in her they had gone to Exeter barracks, and there The candle held by his father shed its wav­ present ill state, seeing everything at its worst, was a warm and prolonged shaking of hands ing light upon John’s face and uniform as he she ended up by tossing it from her into the all round. turned with a farewell smile on the doorstone, middle of the floor. “ You’ll wish the poor fellows good-bye ? ” backed by the black night; and in another “ There—it’s no use ! ” she cried, with an said Bob to Anne, who had not come forward moment he had plunged into the darkness, impatient little fling; “ I’m never to have any­ for that purpose like the rest. “ They are the ring of his smart step dying away upon thing decent, let alone its being pretty; it’s going away, and would like to have your good the bridge as he joined his waiting compan- drudge, drudge, drudge, and nothing comes word.” ions-in-arms, and went off to blow his trum­ of i t !” She then shyly advanced, and every man pet over the bloody battlefields of Spain. W hat! Didn’t the only bit of brightness in poor old Aunt Martha’s life come with each felt that he must make some pretty speech as TH E E N D . he shook her by the hand. little duty performed out of love? Could her girlhood be spent in a letter way than to “ Good-bye. May you remember us as long lighten the burdens of one who had done so as it makes ye happy, and forget us as soon as much for her? Should she throw away the it makes ye sad,” said Sergeant Brett. result of the sacrifices made, when she had “ Good-night! Health, wealth and long Hester’s Bonnet,- and W hat it turned a deaf ear to those who urged her to life to y e ! ” said Sergeant-major Wills, tak­ look out for herself ? ing her hand from Brett. Brought! “ I’m just like a naughty child,” she cried to “ I trust to meet ye again as the wife of a "herself penitently—“ and I wish there was worthy man,” said Trumpeter Buck. somebody to shake me. I don’t deserve to ever BY MARGARET SIDNEY. “ W ell drink your health throughout the see a new bonnet in all my life.” campaign, and so good-bye t’ye,” said Sad- She whisked into the adjoining room, and ler-Sergeant Jones, raising her hand to his took down an old bandbox from the closet Ups. shelf in the vain hope that another search Three others followed with similar remarks, OR pity’s sake ! ” exclaimed within it might bring to light some hidden to each of which Anne blushingly replied as Aunt Martha sharply, treasure. But her efforts were useless, and well as she could, wishing them a prosper­ “ what a muss you’re m at­ calling up a little scrap or a song, where any ous voyage, easy conquest, and a speedy re­ in’ —and besides, you won’t other girl would have cried or been cross, she turn. be through—do hurry !” went back to do the best she could with what But. alas, for that! Battles and skirmishes, Now, if any one is told to hurry, she had in hand. advances and retreats, fevers and fatigues, told especially if the task is to make “ I think I had better pick up my bonnet hard on Anne’s gallant friends ‘in the coming an old spring bonnet into some­ first,” she said to herself ; “ heigh-—o ! My time. Of the seven upon whom these wishes thing that is expected to be certainly elegant spring bonnet ! --why, where—” were bestowed, five were dead men within the fresher and handsomer than it was at first, For the bonnet was nowhere to be seen, not DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE, 11

a vestige of the offending bow, not a scrap of “ I lost all trace of you," the newly-arrived The Story of a New-Year’s Call. the poor patient was to be seen, for all the cousin was saying in earnest tones, " when I rubbing of eyes feat Hester bestowed on her­ came back last year. How long have you BY ELLEN INGLIS. self, nor the prowling around under bed and lived here in this village?” he asked ab­ chairs, to see if perchance it had rolled off on ruptly. an investigating tour. “ Two years ago last February," said Miss "It's very strange," she said, getting up Martha. “ Warn't it, Hetty? No, I declare MILY, Emily ! Will you tell from the floor. “ Aunt Martha couldn't get up 'twas March ; an' no wonder you couldn’t find me about this idiom ? I stairs without me hearing her. I don’t see—” out from the folks in Berryville, for we' think the Professor ought Just then came a rap at the old-fashioned weren't 'xactly decided to come here when we not to give me so difficult a front door, loud and imperative, as if some le ft; an' we han't had much time to write let­ fable as this to translate, and I one accustomed to being waited on stood with­ ters sence,” she added, as if postage laws were never shall get my other lessons out. nothing but a pleasure learned to-day." " It’s Deacon Smith about that butter, I “ Is this my little cousin ? ” he asked, turn­ “ Emily ! Did you quill that foot- suppose,” said Hester, flinging all thoughts of ing around on Hester with a smile. ing up for my black silk dress? bonnet and everthing else to the four winds. “ Yes,” said Aunt" Martha, “ that's Job's No ? Well, do it now, there's a love! No­ “ Oh dear! we shall have to stop taking it en­ daughter, Richard. Hester, this is your body else can please me, or make my ruffles tirely ; we can't afford it. ” father's cousin, Richard Green.” look decent.” Down the stairs she ran, and threw open Hester's hand was grasped cordially. “ I'm “ Emily ! Maud Elliot is in the school-room, the door. "Deacon Smith," she began, and very glad to have found y o u '" he repeated, waiting for you to give her her music lesson, then flushed all up to the roots of her pretty “ although the bonnet was spoiled,” he added, and you ought to go to her at once, for the brown hair. laughing. “ And by the way, I haven't told days are growing so short the dark will over­ “ It’s not Deacon Smith, " said a tall, fine you yet, I believe, how it happened.” take the child before she gets home.” looking old gentlemen, smiling down at her. Aunt Martha led the way back to the These three voices, querulous, pleading, And then he held out something in his hand, “ keeping-room.” Cousin Richard gave one and admonitory, followed each other in quick and burst out into a hearty laugh. glance around the poor little room that looked succession, and the young lady to whom their Hester's eyes went from the fine, cheery as if trying violently to sustain an air which tones were addressed had not time to really face downward to, the object put forth for j it couldn't quite carry ou t! and he winked answer any of them. She gave each her reply her inspection, at sight of which her eyes away something bright from the keen gray in a characteristic way by bending over the stretched suddently their very widest extent, eyes. impatient little Lou, and explaining the con­ while her lips refused to utter a sound. “ I was passing through here,” he began, struction of the French phrase ; by taking up “ I'm afraid you cant make much out of plunging into explanations at once, “ on busi- a pretty shell-shaped basket, overflowing with i t ' said the stranger ruefully, looking at it ness ; and, having an hour or two at my dis- snowy lace, and carrying it with her, thimble too. “ I tried to get it away from him before posal, preferred a run through the place in­ on finger, aud needle threaded, to the school­ the mischief was done, but I never saw such stead of waiting at your little—beg pardon, room, where Maud was drumming on the old a dog to hold on. I'm very sorry.” cousin—but it really is a stuffy little station. piano, stopping an instant to press a kiss on Hester faintly gasped, “ Thank you, sir. Just as I reached your gate, when I was in­ the cheek of her mother, the last speaker. You're very good;" and put out her hand, dulging in quiet meditations on matters and Mother and daughter were very like, each while her heart went down, down! things in general, I was suddenly startled out to the other, though the one was a pale, worn, “ I've got no bonnet now !” she thought, of them by a rushing noise ; and looking up, weary-looking woman, whose forty years had that took all her self-control to keep from find­ I saw a large dog flying out of your door, with left more than their due share of lines and ing utterance in a hysterical laugh. not an appropriate mouthful exactly—a lady's wrinkles; and the other was eighteen, straight “ What's the matter?'’ asked Aunt Mar­ bonnet! Not wishing to see somebody’s work as an arrow, delicately tinted as a damask tha's thin, querulous voice from the “ keep­ spoiled in that fashion, I remonstrated; but rose, and clear-eyed, with hope and health. ing-room ;" and then she came out into the his dogship, not willing under any considera­ The plate; on the outside of their modest entry to see the visitor herself. tion to part with it, the bonnet suffered some-- dwelling, bearing the inscription “ Female “ Nothing, aunty,” said poor Hester, hold­ what until I did have my way. I'm afraid it’s Seminary,” as the fashion then was, told that ing up the wreck, “ only— —" pretty well chewed. Isn't it, Hester? ” they had sought to earn a living in the most But she got no further - for, rushing past “ Never mind,” said Hester, laughing gayly: genteel and available way then open to women her, spring bonnet and all, the stranger went and then the bright color came into her cheek who had themselves to Support. directly to Miss Martia ! “ Well, cousin ! ” he at the thought of what Cousin Richard would Besides Mrs. Mulherne and Emily the said, and held out his hand. say if he knew how naughty she had been ! household consisted of Aunt Adaline. an im­ “ Hey !" said Aunt Martha, who couldn't And he looked so good, and as if he had never perious dame who managed everybody, and take her eyes off from the bonnet; and she been impatient or repining. considered she did them a favor by conde­ turned to peer sharply over her spectacles at “ I bless it,” said Cousin Richard, “ for scending to issue her orders: of Great-aunt him. “ I never!" she ejaculated, and sat without it I don't know as I should ever Mercy, who had a little money, which it was right down in the big old-fashioned chair to have found y ou ; and now I don't go home supposed she would leave to Emily, should catch her breath. without you. Stop, Cousin Martha," he she (Aunt Mercy) ever consent to go out of “ I'm glad to find you at last,” said the commanded, seeing her about to speak, “ it's this life; of Cousin Grace Hastings, a parlor gentleman, speaking very rapidly, while Hes­ no use ; my mind's made up. Our house is boarder; and of the little Lou Preston, whose par­ ter, still holding the bonnet,, stared from one big, and my wife and I need you for company. ents had gone abroad and left her under Mrs. to the other. This must be the cousin of And besides, think how this child ”—he took Mulherne's wing. A family of ladies exclu­ whom her aunt was aways telling, who had Hester’s hand in his affectionately — “ will sively, with forty day scholars and ten music been abroad for so many years, who was cheer us up and brighten our lives.” pupils, the latte of whom were bonny Emily’s “ dreadfully rich" and whom Miss Martha That settled it for Aunt Martha! She particular charge. . had declared, with pardonable pride, that “ I couldn't bear the brightness that shone in Hes-j It must be confessed that she sometimes wouldn't have him know for all the world, ter's brown eyes, and that flowed all over the longinggrew a little tired and depressed, for her work Hetty, how poor we be; for Richard Green face, was monotonous and uneventful, and in the was always an awful generous boy, an 'twould “ W ell,” she gasped, “ tain’t right, but w e'll brief intervals when she ventured to s e iz e be the same as askin’ him to help us.” come—” a moment's rest, the demands on her time were “ It must be," thought Hester, and then “ Not come,” he cried, laughing joyfully, incessant. Everybody wanted Emily. Everybody gave herself up to the two old cousins and but you go with me to-morrow! I won't lose felt that she had a right to her company, their conversation. sight of either of you again as long as I live! ” her music, and her help. She was praised* 12 DEMOREST'S MONTHL Y MAGAZINE. petted, scolded, blamed, caressed, and loved by the second, that Aunt Adaline paid the rent, perience of her few summers was but thirty- the whole establishment, from Aunt Mercy to and thus her very liberal rate of board almost three and in his prime. That be was a widow the cook. But she was hardly allowed to call entitled her to a wider freedom of speech than er, and had a little brood of boys and girls at her soul her own. she could otherwise have claimed. Besides, home, was an objection, but not, in Mrs. Mul- When Maud’s lesson was completed, she Aunt Adeline, though a Christian, was stern herne's opinion, an insurmbuntable one. He slipped on her hat and cloak, and accompanied and unsympathetic to a fault ; just, but never Was rich, influential, and handsome, and Emily the little girl part of the way home. There generous. A little child under her care as his wife would have opportunities such as was a hill in Stock wood from which there was would have had plenty of judicious punish­ she never seemed likely to gain in Stockwood. a very fine view of the sunset, and Emily fre­ ment, with a whipping now and then as a Her mother saw her in imagination growing quently walked as far as this spot in the hour tonic, and indulgence would have been slight prim, angular, and old-maidish, teaching at the close of school duties, which was the and seldom. Once when Emily, a year or two music till the thick brown pair grew thin and only one, in the whole circle of waking hours, over twelve, had been left in her charge, dur­ faded, the bright eyes lost their luster, and which she could spend in recreation without ing an absence of her mother's, she had had the lithe form its elasticity. On the other being pricked in her conscience. Evenings the misfortune to be caught in a rain-storm, hand, she fancied her with wealth and luxury were, in general, devoted to practicing or to and destroy her best dress. Aunt Adaline as her portion, a circlet of diamonds on the correcting the scholars’ compositions, while had obliged her to go to church, in it the next graceful, tapering finger, and rustling silks her mother made or mended the clothing, or Sunday, stained, limp, and spoiled as it was, and soft wools adorning her stately figure. cast up domestic accounts, and as soon as and when Emily had cried and begged off, Meanwhile Emily had dismissed all serious breakfast was over, music lessons began. A and remonstrated, had silenced her by saying thoughts, and was enjoying the gay sallies and wearing life, but work is never play, and retorts of the lively young people in the par­ Emily knew how to do hers, and did it well. “ You have your Saviour, Emily. Ask him lor. They had music, and the instrument Years after she looked back from a very differ­ to give you a meeker spirit, and to chastise there, a fine, full-toned one, gave back very ent sort of environment and occupation, and your wicked pride. How can you shed tears different sounds from the antique, second­ thought how happy she had been in the day of over a dress? You deserve to have some­ hand piano, which was in rose for the school­ small economies, of constant engagements, and thing given you to cry for.” room practice. They lingered late, late that of humdrum cares. Yes, how happy! though But in these days the scepter had departed is for Stockwood, where people retired at ten, at the time she did not know she was eating from Aunt Adaline, and, like the old giants in and at the door, Rob pressed Emily's hand, her white bread and tasting her honey. the Pilgrim's Progress, she could only sit in and asked permission to write to her when he A soft hand was laid on her arm, as she the door of her cave, and grumble. Emily should return to Yale. stood looking off at the sunset's crimson and shirked none of her proper work. She accept­ “ But in the meantime," said Maggie, “ you gold, and a pair of violet eyes overflowing ed whatever was tiresome as a necessary part can call on her on New Year's day. She will with fun looked into her soberer brown ones. of her own and her mother’s social endeavor receive with me." “ You here, Maggie?” she exclaimed; “ why after respectability, but she took what com­ Good-nights were exchanged, and Emily I thought you in New York! " fort she could by the way. When Maggie’s closed the piano, extinguished the solar lamp “ I’ve been at home a whole day and a brother Fred and his college mate were at on the center-table and the swinging one in half, Mignon, and was on my way to see you home, Emily threw herself gayly into their the hall, and taking her candle in her hand, now. Rob Everett is at our house. He came young life, And went with the current, enjoy­ went softly up to bed. Not so softly, how­ down from college with brother Fred, for the ing it heartily. ever, that Aunt Adeline did not hear her. holidays, and we’re all going to visit you this She slipped to her own room after tea, and That lady, in nightcap and curl-papers, stood evening, and hear your new pieces. Rob says exchanged her gray dress for a pretty garnet in her chamber-door, and said : he can hardly wait to try again the duet you merino, with lace rippling at the neck and " Are you sure you are not too tired to read and he began to learn last vacation.” wrists. A gold pin at the throat fastened a your Bible, Emily ? ” The friends separated, and Emily sped bow of pale blue ribbon, and she assumed the And from Aunt Mercy’s room there came a homeward with flying feet. At the tea table embroidered apron of black silk, which she call : she unfolded her news. It was received with put on only when she had guests at home, or “ Emily, Emily !" various degrees of approbation. Little Lou when she went to sewing society. “ Well, Aunt Mercy ?" declared that she meant to stay in the parlor as Mother came up to turn her round and look " Are you sure you locked the front door? " long as the company did, and pouted when at her. New Year’s day arrived, crystalline in at Mrs. Mulherne told her that she could not go “ My sweet, you are as fresh as a snow­ mosphere, cold as an Arctic temperature could there at all. and would retire as usual. Aunt drop,” she said. “ Don’t worry over Aunt make it, but a beautiful day for calling. Mercy, being deaf, had to be informed three Adaline, she has gone to prayer-meeting. And Quite early, our Emily, arrayed in a pretty times who was coming, and then remarked Aunt Mercy has retired for the night.” | and becoming suit, evolved by her mother’s that Maggie Tracy and her set were wild and “ I wish, mamma darling, that you and I taste and industry out of a former evening ill-bred. She didn’t like Emily’s making her­ had a home by our two selves, away from dress of her own girlhood, and wrapped in self so common as to be at their beck and the cross, fault-finding aunties,” said Emily shawls and furs enough to have enveloped call. impulsively. “ They are growing harder to | an Esquimaux, tripped over to the Tracys. Aunt Adaline said, with emphasis, “ It is get on with every day.” j Cousin Grace had gone to her home for the very well for an idle young woman like Mar­ “ Hush, daughter, Aunt Mercy's door is holidays, giving a truce to the music and garet to entertain young m en and enjoy her­ ajar, and she always hears when one isn’t ex­ ! French she was pursuing in an elegantly leis­ self. You, Emily, have a principle to main­ pecting it. You frighten me. There is a way urely manner. Aunt Adeline, who approved tain, and have your livelihood t o gain, and open to leave them, you know, if you would of New Year's calls, had been graciously your mother to assist. Let me h ope that you take it. Such a fair home, and my child pleased to lend Emily some rare old lace, and will not ask those frivolous butterflies to re­ might reign in it like a queen, if she would. ” the two old ladies had gladdened her mother’s peat their call. ” “ Anything else, mamma, but never that,” heart by admiring the young girl, as much as " Dear me! ” said cousin Grace, “ it's a great said Emily, running down to meet and greet did Mrs. Mulherne herself. A few days* rest pity if Emily is not to have a moment’s pleasure her friends. from the strain of a school in the house had in her life, and she only eighteen.” The mother sighed. It seemed hard to her brightened the whole family. “ Duty, and not pleasure, is, I trust, Emily's that a gate into Paradise should be open to Perhaps nobody ever had a much better motive in life. She feels her responsibility to her darling, and the darling refuse to recognize time than Emily did at Maggie Tracy’s that her Maker,” said Aunt Adaline severely. what gate it was, what good things were there day. There was not the stream of visitors to Mrs. Mulherne was silent. She could not for her taking, and what pleasure she could which city girls are accustomed, for Stock- protest in uttered speech for two reasons: the have if she would. The lover who appeared wood was a suburb, and gentlemen were not first, that she was timid and weak by nature; elderly to Emily, surveying him with the ex­ too numerous, especially young gentlemen. DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 1 3

But all day there company, and. the gayety was ushered into the dimly-lighted parlor. “ I married for love,” said Mrs. Mulheme was unchecked by any unpleasant incident. Mrs. Mulheme’s face flushed with delight; he bitterly. Stockwood never offered its guests wine on would see her pretty Emily at her best. The Alas! too well Emily remembered the un- New Year’s, and the inspiration of good coffee first of the year had brought its embarrass­ happiness of her early years,the recriminations and sparkling lemonade never unfits gentle­ ments to the good lady, in the shape of bills j between her parents, the dissipation and drunk- men for ladies' society, or sends a youth the and interest. The aunts had been very try­ en carousals of her handsome, well-appearing, first steps on the downhill road of intemper­ ing, her health was not strong; if only, only gentlemanly father. She knew that widow­ ance and ruin. Mr. Forbes would propose, and Emily ac­ hood had brought relief to her poor mother, Toward evening, Bob Everett and Emily cept ! and not alone sorrow and regret. were sitting by themselves in a cosy cur­ Mr. Forbes had brought some exquisite hot­ “ And my dear, I'll tell you one thing more, tained nook in the back parlor,, looking over house flowers, the gems of his conservatory, which, under other circumstances, I would an illustrated book. But their eyes saw each and he presented them gracefully and with have kept to myself. Dr. Pendleton has other’s faces rather than the pictures, and the empreesement to Miss Mulherne, thinking the examined my heart, and he says there is pro­ book was only a pretense. He was telling her while how like them she herself was in her nounced disease of the membrane which of his hopes and ambitions, and of the pros­ beauty and charm. He was in no haste to go, surrounds it, and that the stress and anxiety pect, when his studies were completed, of his he begged Emily to play for him, and then he of my present life are wearing me out by de­ being taken into partnership by his uncle the talked of art, of music, of travel, and drew grees. He says I must have less worry. Now, doctor. enchanting pictures of the delights of a if you love me, you will think seriously before “ And then, birdie, my fortune will be European tour. In fact he spent the evening, you withdraw encouragement from Reuben made,” he said, “ and I can look out for a | and when at last he took his leave, it was far Forbes.” nest, where my dove may fold her white wings too late for Emily to seek the Tracy mansion " Well, it is easy to see how it ended. It was and sing for me.” that night. thirty years ago Emily became Mrs. Forbes, Just then the face of Maggie Tracy ap- She carried her flowers up stairs, as her and this New Year’s she entertained some of peared in the alcove. mother bade her, but it was with a heavy New York’s proudest and most influential citi­ “ Emily dear, your mother has sent for you heart. Aunt Mercy had slept peacefully the zens, with a troop of little grandchildren to come home. Your Aunt Mercy is ill.” whole evening, and the sound of rhythmic playing in the rooms, a bevy of bright-haired “ Aunt Mercy? Can it be anything seri­ snores proclaimed that Aunt Adaline was also girls surrounding her own beautiful daugh ters, and a fine lad her son, going out and in, ous?” said Emily. " Who came for m e?” slumbering profoundly. with his guest, another Rob Everett, for “ Your Aunt Adaline. Don’t go, dear, if As she deposited her bouquet on the dress- whom mamma is known to entertain a very you can help yourself. The evening will be ing-table she saw, what had escaped her no­ the best of all.” special fondness. Her life has not been so very tice hitherto, a little white velvet case securely But Aunt Adaline Was imperative. She had unhappy, but it missed that which is the fastened among the roses, and as she was not | chrism and crown of fortunate womanhood, just come from the house, she said, and Mrs. without curiosity, she opened it with an ex- and often when she sees the real bliss of her Mulheme wanted Emily. It was not seemly clamation. for one of the family to be out enjoying her­ eldest daughter, an Emily who made a love “ Why, mother ! ” self when an honored member of it was ill match, she thinks somewhat sadly of the old and suffering. On a bed of purple satin reposed a tiny Bible story of one who parted with his birth­ She did not tell her niece that she had seen b ijou of a gold watch, with the letters E. M. in right for a mess of pottage. She gave her as she stood in the hill that Bob and herself diamonds flashing from its cover. A long husband respect and esteem. She lived in were neither of them in the parlor, and had thread-like chain of woven gold was en- amity and friendship with his children. But surmised that they might be courting some­ wreathed around it, and on the accompanying she has always had an unsatisfied corner in where, and that then she had resolved that card were these words: “ A happy New Year to her heart, and that is a hard fate for a loving Emily should go home and stay there. Mrs. dear Emily, with the love of one who hopes ere woman. “ It might have been,” she sometimes Mulherne's message had been sent to please long to claim her by a dearer title than that of repeats in the confidence of her own thoughts, the aged lady, and she had intended to let her admiring friend and well-wisher, Reuben “ so very, very different.” Emily return. C. Forbes.” Her mother lived several triumphant years It was not in a very good humor that the Mrs. Mulherne was in ecstasies, she impul­ with her. Aunt Mercy died at a great age, young girl walked back with the spinster. sively pressed a rapturous kiss on Emily’s and left her money to an orphan asylum. She was used to Aunt Mercy’s attacks, and lips, but none was given in response. Aunt Adaline still lives, exacting and crabbed, said so. “ Mamma, I cannot accept this gift, it im­ attending duly on the means of grace, but showing little grace in her daily deportment. “ I truly believe, Aunt Adaline, that you plies too much,” said the girl with entreaty just worried her into due, so that you could rather than decision in her voice. There was ------have a good excuse for spoiling my day’s temptation in it, for she loved the artistic and Not the Rich Alone Have the Power pleasure. You are just as disagreeable to me the beautiful, and this dainty watch was an to Make Happy.—It is very common for the as you can be.” earnest of more in prospect. Satan loves to tempt pure souls, by offering them the king­ poor to envy the rich, and say, “ If I only had The guess was so near the truth, that Aunt doms of this world and the glory thereof. such a one’s wealth, how happy I would make Adaline felt as if she would like to pinch her “ My dear,” said Mrs. Mulheme, “ do not those around me ! ” But money is only one niece’s plump arm, and had to make quite an of the many means of contributing to the en­ effort to restrain herself. She preserved an break my heart by sending Mr. Forbes back his gift. If you want to keep me with you, joyment of others. If we reflect on the favors injured silence till they reached the door-step. by which others have added largely to our When they were fairly in she said, with a you will marry this man.” own happiness, we shall find that a large pro­ sarcastic smile: “ But I do not love him, he is too old.” portion of them have been pure deeds of kind­ “ I cannot say, miss, that I regret very much “ Old! ” Mrs. Mulherne raised her voice in ness which have cost the bestower little or that Providence has interfered to stop your shrill displeasure, but presently lowered it, nothing beyond the good disposition to per­ unseemly flirting with Robert Everett, a mindful of the aunts. “ He is thirty-three, a form th e m . Do not attempt to excuse your­ youth for whom I entertain a feeling of con­ man, with a man’s place made for himself al self. from the obligation to do something—in tempt.” ready; he can give you position, ease, influence, fact, to do much—to make others happy, on “ Aunt Mercy is better, darling. You may every advantage. And you turn your back on the ground that you are not rich. It is not a see her and rest a little, and I’ll go back with him ? ” valid excuse. A smiling face and an encouraging you,” said her mother, " I was sorry to inter­ “ O mother dear, hush !” said Emily. “ I j cheerful word, to the afflicted and the rupt your good time. ” must marry with love, or I cannot marry at I troubled often go farther than all that money Just then the door-bell rang, and Mr. Forbes all.” can buy. 14 DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE

leader of the people, Mrs. Howe could Mrs. Julia Ward Howe. not but see always the noblest and tru­ est phase of private and public duty. M rs. Ju l ia W a r d Ho w e , whose name Her second volume “ Words for the Is so intimately connected w ith the lite­ Hour," commemorates the struggles of rary, philanthropic, and woman’s ques­ that time, while her third v o lu m e , tions of the day, is the daughter of a for­ Later Lyrics,” has numerous poems mer eminent New York banker, a man of the civil war, among them the “ Bat­ not only of wealth, hut distinguished for tle Hymn of the Republic,” which has sound wisdom, ripe judgment, and keen not inappositely beat called the Mar­ intuitions, and whose companionship was seillaise of America. This stirring war equal to a liberal education. song was written in Washington in the Her mother, whom she lost in early fall of 1861, when the city was surround­ childhood, was a lineal descendant of ed by McClellan's great army. General Marion, of South Carolina, one In 1857, Mrs. H o w accompanied her of the Southern heroes of the revolution­ husband and Teodore Parker to Cuba, ary struggle, while on her father's side and upon her return published “ A Trip she is related to Roger Sherman, through to Cuba,” a book which still enjoys the Governors Green and Ward, of Rhode distinction of being a prohibited volume Island on the island. When but a tiny maid, not yet eman­ In 1867, at the period when the Cretan cipated from nursery rule, Mrs. Howe struggle for national independence occur­ strung rhymes together, and made child­ red, Dr. and Mrs. Howe visited Athens, ish orations to invisible audiences, and where the Greek community vied with dreamed dreams of all she would accom- MBS. JULIA WARD HOWE. each other in their expressions of grati- plish if she was only a boy, feeling at tude to the Dr. for his sympathy and that immature age, the restrictions which extensively in Great Britain and on the Conti­ the substantial aid he had afforded them. hamper a girl’s aspirations. nent, Rome was reached, where they wintered, From that date Mrs. Howe has been an en­ Like hosts of other precocious and imagina and where Mrs. Howe's eldest child, a daugh­ thusiastic student of Greek. five girls, she was studious by starts only, ester, was born. In 1861, she was called upon to sustain one teaming all she undertook with readiness, es­ Until her marriage Mrs. Howe had led a life of the heaviest sorrows which can touch a pecially foreign languages, hut devoting h er-, devoted to literature. A t the age of seventeen woman's heart, in the loss of her youngest self to music with eager and passionate fond- she had published a review of Lamartine's child, a fine boy of three. To keep up her ness. When eighteen she left school, under- Jocelyn, with translations, a paper upon the courage under this g rie f she wrote and read standing French perfectly, and speaking Ital minor poems of Schiller and Goethe, besides aloud to an invited circle of friends, some es­ ian with considerable fluency. original poems from time to time. But the says on various questions of practical ethics. Up to this time she had studied Latin prob- cares of wedded life, and the joys and anxieties From this time, she also devoted herself ably as the generality of school girls of that of maternity naturally interrupted these occu­ closely to the study of philosophy, as set forth day did, advancing as far as Cicero and Livy, pations, though through all she always kept in the works of Hegel and Spinoza, Auguste but after leaving school she resumed her Latin some book of solid interest for daily reading, Comte's Positive Philosophy, and Kant's studies, and read Virgil, Horace, and Tacitus mostly of a historical or philosophical charac­ Critiques of Pure Reaton, this last being with delight. She also devoted much of her ter. especially delightful to her. time to the study of German, not the construc­ In 1850 Mrs. Howe went abroad a second In the course of these studies, she wrote tion and practical use of the language only, time, passing the winter in Rome, and taking many essays on philosophical subjects, most but the literature and philosophy of that with her her two youngest children. Upon of which have been read to public and private tongue, which could not hut be a source of her return to Boston, in the autumn o f 1851, audiences, though none of them have yet been limitless enjoyment to such a mind. | she so arranged her methods of life as to be published. When Mrs. Howe was about twenty, in I able to devote the greater portion of each day About this time she began to feel her work 1889, her father died, and shortly after a favor­ to study. Within the following two years she was too much isolated from the work of the ite brother. Naturally of an excitable tem­ published her first volume, entitled “ Passion day, and the desire arose to do some practical perament and extremely sympathetic, she was Flowers," a lyrical collection which awoke service for her fellow creatures. This feeling drawn by her losses and sorrows into a relig­ much interest in the author, and caused many induced her to attend a small private meeting ious revival, but from which she emerged a predictions of future greatness from lit­ for the consideration of the establishment of a Unitarian in creed, after passing through erary authorities. This was followed by woman’s club in the city of Boston. This plan many phases of religious needs and con­ another practical volume, “ Words for the was speedily carried into successful operation, flicts. Hour,” and a drama in blank verse, which | and Mrs. Howe was chosen president in the In 1841 she was married to Dr. Howe, so was brought out at Wallack's in New York, third year, a position she has ever since held, celebrated as the teacher who opened to Laura and also in Boston. Although possessing un- Miss May filling her place during her last Bridgeman's closed senses the charms and doubted literary and dramatic merit, it did not visit to Europe. T h is club life she feels to delights of life, as well as the-noble helper of "keep the stage," partly because to write a have been an education for her in one impor­ Greece in her early struggle for Independence, successful play, it is absolutely necessary to tant respect, it having elevated her opinion of and as one o f the most ardent, yet reliable have an understanding of scenic effects and her own sex greatly, to learn what they are philanthropists that America has e ver pro­ stage business. capable of doing individually and in associa­ duced. In 1851, when Mrs Howe returned from tion with others. Directly after their marriage, Dr. and Mrs. Europe, the anti-slavery question was greatly About 1870, Mrs. Howe’s mind became sud- Howe went abroad, where they received every agitating American society. Dr. Howe had denly quickened with the thought that if wo­ attention, especially in London, Dr. Howie's been one of the very earliest and foremost of men all over the world would unite their fame as Laura Bridgeman's teacher having abolitionists, his sympathies being wholly efforts, the settlement and maintenance of preceded him. Dickens, Sidney Smith, Ma- enlisted on the side of human freedom for political and national tights might be effected eready, Samuel Rogers, the Marquis of Lane- every race and color, and he greatly in flu by peaceful methods of arbitration, rather down, and the Duchess of Northumberland eneced the progress of the cause in Massachusetts. than the barbarism of war and bloodshed, opened their doors and spread their hospitable | and the wholesale destruction of human boards to do them honor. A fte r traveling Being so intimately associated with this life. DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 15

To accomplish this, she called for a wo­ panied each by a hearty hand shake ; the men’s congress of all nationalities, to be field singing of the national anthem, and a “ three. in London, to consider the essential conditions times three,” given with all the lungs and vim of universal peace. In 1873 she went to Eng­ of real English boys. land, where, proclaiming her errand, she re­ The institution is one of the sights of Lon­ ceived invitations, which she accepted, to don, and perhaps a few words concerning its speak upon the subject in some of the princi­ origin may not be amiss. Ridley, Bishop pal cities of Great Britain. In London she o f London, preached on a certain day a ser­ held a succession of Sunday evening services, mon before Edward VI. at Westminster, in in which she considered " The Mission of which he exhorted the rich to be merciful to Christianity in relation to the Pacification of the poor in the relief of their necessities. the W orld.” She was then made a delegate The young king was so impressed by the na­ to the great Congress for Prison Reform, held ture and extent of the evils indicated, that be in London, in 1873, speaking in its m atings sent for the good bishop at the close of the in both French and English. service, and requested that some, plan should After her return to the United States Mrs. be devised for the relief of the London poor, Howe proposed the institution of a Women’s desiring him to take council with some of the Peace Festival, to be held on the 33d of every citizens, who were not only “ many and wise,” June, and succeeded in inducing people in va but also “ pitiful and merciful.” So pleased rious States, who were advocates of the peace was the bishop with the effect of his sermon, theory, to join with her in celebrating that that he lost no time in talking over the matter day. Her own meetings in Boston are held in with the Lord Mayor and aldermen, and the a hall decorated with flowers and adorned result was, that a brief and business-like plan with appropriate emblems, while addresses was speedily laid before the king. and appropriate music fill the time of their From this arose the Bridewell, for the remaining together. “ thriftless poor, vagabonds and idle per­ Three years ago, Mrs. Howe again visited sons ; ” the Hospitals of St. Thomas and St. Europe, remaining abroad more than two A Great English Charity. Bartholomew, for the poor by casualty, com­ years, revisiting England, France, and Italy, prising “ wounded soldiers and diseased per­ and going as far east as the Holy Land. sons ; ” the Almonry of St. Mary Ovaries for Everywhere the question o f woman and her the poor by impotency, consisting principally THE “ BLUE COAT” SCHOOL AND ITS rights and cause she found in agitation, and o f “ orphans, the aged, the blind, and lame; ” she gave two lectures in Paris and one in DOINGS. while for the largest and most important class, Florence, on themes connected with the duties that of “ destitute children,” the most re­ and education of women. She was made one nowned of all the old religious houses of Lon­ L o n d o n , 1880. of the presiding officers of the Woman’s Rights don, Gray Friars, was set aside. Congress, held in Paris, in 1878. She also lec­ Within six months the conventual build­ tured in Athens upon the various associations ings, then greatly dilapidated, were restored HRIST’S Hospital p l a y - o f women in America, and their work and to a fit. state, and three hundred and forty ground presented a stirring methods of work. children were admitted within the old monas­ sight this afternoon, with its tic walls. They were clad in a lively of rus­ In addition to the organization o f the W o­ throng of blue-coated, yel- set, which was soon changed for the garb they man’s Club in Boston, and, later, the Young low-legged boys waiting for the now wear, long yellow stockings, blue gowns Ladies’ Saturday Morning Club, in the same hour in which they should be with ample skirts, red leathern girdle and city, Mrs. Howe bad much to do with founding called into the great ball for the an white bands, this being the customary dress the Town and Country Club of Newport Rhode nual speech-day exercises. By two for the children of humble citizens in the Island, which meets in the season only, for o’clock eight hundred boys bad filed time of the Tudors. literary purposes and social enjoyment. - W ith into the venerable room and climbed the raised It was not long before the institution be­ this she is still intimately co n nected, as in­ seats at either side of the organ, and very came a favorite one, and benefactions poured deed she is with every society in Newport soon after the sound o f music announced the in. A few days before his death, King Ed­ which has an elevating and ennobling pur­ entrance of the Lord Mayor in his official ward donated lands to the value of four thou­ pose. robes, accompanied by the Lady Mayoress, the sand marks annually, saying, when he had Since the publication of the books previously Sheriff and Under Sheriff, Treasurer and Gov­ signed his name to the deed of gift, “ Lord, I mentioned, Mrs. Howe has written another ernors, preceded by the golden mace and thank Thee that Thou hast given me life thus volume of " Lyrics” and a book of European sword of state. long, to finish this work to the glory of Thy travels, called, “ From the Oak to the Olive.” The ceremonies of the day .consisted of or­ name.” Dame Mary Ramsey, whose portrait She has also delivered lectures and attended chestral music composed by an Old Blue and hangs in the Treasurer's room, made a mag­ conventions in many of the State of the Union, performed by the school band ; a prologue by nificent bequest to the Hospital, which now besides preaching frequently in churches of one o f the Seniors, a Latin oration, in which yields four thousand pounds a year. Of this Liberal Christians. the orator expressed thanks on behalf of him­ lady the following story is told ; she intended Indeed, a busier life than that led by Mrs. self and colleagues for their education in the to leave five hundred pounds a year to St. Pe­ Howe can scarcely be imagined or, in its way, Hospital; extolled the wisdom and benevo­ ter's College, Cambridge, but made it a con­ a more useful one. Though somewhat past lence of the Royal founder ; recalled the dition that the College should take the name middle life (she was born the 27th o f May, names of those who have lately done honor to of Peter and Mary. To this the Master ob­ 1819), her temperament is such that she will the school; expressed gratitude to the Gover­ jected, saying, “ Peter, who had lived so long never be able to give herself test while the nors and Masters, and commended the Hospi­ single, was now too old to take a feminine cause of truth, liberty, and universal freedom tal to the sympathies of the audience. Then partner; ” a speech which caused the loss of is in need of an advocate. And since she is so followed orations in French, Greek, and Eng­ the benefaction. peculiarly fitted for the work, let every woman lish, succeeded by the ancient custom of pass­ Richard Castell, a Westminster shoemaker, wish for her a life which passes the allotted ing the “ glove ” for contributions for the called, from his industrious habits, the “ Cock span, and strength of body and mind with it, benefit of scholars who are leaving for the of Westminster,.” left lands which, at the time to keep her from faint-heartedness and falter­ universities ; after which came the distribu­ of his death, brought in forty-four pounds a ing. tion of prizes by the Lord Mayor, who accom- year, but which are now of great value. Some 16 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE, legacies were hampered by curious stipula­ Manx. The English Isabella was buried with In 1078, Charles II. founded a mathematical tions, one person leaving money on condition the heart of her murdered husband on her school for the instruction of forty boys in nav­ a certain number of boys should receive breast, and according to all true Blues, her igation, endowed it with one thousand pounds gloves at Easter, on which were to be printed, ghost still haunts the cloisters. for seven years, and added an annuity of three “ He is risen! ” and which were to be worn in Many other knights and ladies almost hundred and seventy from the exchequer to the various processions that took place during equally illustrious by birth rest here. Isa­ educate and fit out for sea ten boys annually. Easter week. The gloves are still given, but bella, daughter of Edward III. and wife of To supplement the king’s grant, one of the a badge is now worn with the inscription, in­ Earl Bedford, John, Duke of Bourbon, one of governors left a legacy for the maintenance of stead of having it on the gloves. Leigh Hunt the French nobles taken in battle of Agincourt, a preliminary class of twelve boys, to be also says that in his day the motto conveyed no who died after eighteen years' imprisonment | taught navigation. The " twelve” wear a badge serious idea, but only called to mind an old in the Tow er; W alter Blunt, Lord Treasurer on the right shoulder, the king’s boys on the doggerel which the boys were fond of repeat­ to Edward IV ., “ gentle Mortimer ” paramour left, the figures upon which represent Arithmetic ing : of Isabella, who was hung at Tyburn, and Sir , with a scroll in one hand and the other “ He is risen! He is risen! Robert Tresilian, Chief Justice of England, placid on a boy’s head ; Geometry, with a tri- All Jews must go to prison. ’ also hung at Tyburn, and who, tradition says, angle ; and Astronomy, with a quadrant in could not be hung until they had removed one land and a sphere in the other. Around One Mary Hunt left three pounds a year, to from his neck the head of the devil and cer­ the plate is inscribed : “ Auspicio Caroli Se- be expended in dinners of boiled legs of pork ; tain other magical images. In the old church* cunda Regis, 1078.” and some one else money for beef and mutton was the splendid tomb of Lady Venetia Digby, There are now about twelve hundred boys to be given to the boys, in addition to what whose beauty Ben. Jonson celebrated, and on the foundation, eight hundred of the elder they already were to receive. These bequests who was supposed, absurdly enough, to have ones at Newgate Street, and the remainder at were really needed some time ago, when the died from viper broth given by her husband the branch institution in Hertford. The boys fare was really so poor and scanty that the to heighten her beauty. enter at seven, and, as a rule, leave at fifteen, boys strung together the following rhymes : The Treasurer's Hall is an elegant speci­ though when Reserving a university course, men of Gothic architecture, built upon arches " Sunday, all saints, they are kept longer. On an average, four Monday, all souls, which form noble cloisters, and over the cen­ scholars are sent to Cambridge every year, Tuesday, all trenchers, ter of which are recorded the names of the with an exhibition of £80, tenable for four Wednesday, all bowls, officers of the institution under whose super­ years, and one to Oxford with £100 for the Thursday, tough jack, intendence the building was erected. A Friday, no better, same period. Besides these, there are the Pitt Saturday, pea soup with bread and butter. " grained oak wainscoting lines the walls of the and the Times scholarships, of £30 each, room to the height of ten feet, upon which awarded to the best scholar In mathematics are painted the coats of arms and names of The diet now, though plain, is good and and classics combined, and held in addition the chief benefactors from the founding. abundant, as the healthy faces of the boys to the general exhibition. testify; but, like the friars in the old refec­ In the center of the north side, opposite the Upon going to the university, each Grecian tory, they eat their meat off wooden trench­ steward's table, is a pulpit, from which a Gre­ receives £20 for books, £10 for clothes, and ers, and ladle their soup with wooden spoons, cian reads grace and the daily Scripture les­ £30 for caution money and settling fees. from wooden bowls. These, with leathern sons. A few feet from the pulpit is the These aids the Hospital can well afford to jacks for beer, and the black piggins into entrance to the kitchen and buttery. At the give, as it has a yearly income of £70,000, which it is poured, give us a tolerable idea of farther end of the hall is the famous picture of which £42,000 is spent in educational pur­ the primitive manners of our ancestors. of Edward VI. by Halbein. The young mon­ poses. The discipline is strict, but not as ultra arch sits on an elevated throne, in a scarlet Although Christ’s Hospital was intended for Spartan as Coleridge reports it to have been robe trimmed with ermine, and holds the scep­ a commercial school, still the list of the Blues in his day when Dr. Jeremy Boyer was head ter in his left hand, while he presents the who have acquired celebrity in the liberal master. Once when Coleridge was crying, charter to the Lord Mayor with the other. By professions would do honor to any institution. after his return from his holidays, Dr. Boyer his side stand the Chancellor and other offi­ Chief upon the list , are Edward Campion, said, “ Boy, the school is your father ! Boy, cers of state. Bishop Ridley kneels before Camden, the great antiquary, Joshua Barnes, the school is your mother ! Boy, the school him with uplifted hands, as if invoking a the Greek scholar, Richardson, the novelist, is your brother ! Boy, the school is your sis­ bleSsing on the event, while the Lord Mayor Middleton, first Protestant bishop to India, ter ! Boy, the school is your first cousin, your and aldermen, kneeling, occupy the fore­ S. T. Coleridge, Leigh Hunt and Charles second cousin and all your relatives ! Let us ground of the picture. Citizens stand behind Lamb. have no more crying! ” When Coleridge them, and on one side are a double row of L. P. L. heard of his old master’s death, he said, boys and of girls on the other. The old-fash­ “ Poor Jeremy Boyer! May all his faults be ioned square windows with rude niches be­ forgiven, and may he be wafted to bliss by lit­ tween, in two of which are statues, and the tle cherub boys all heads and wings, with no checkered floor bear every mark of being a Old Songs. real representation of the old palace of West­ bottoms to reproach his sublunary infirmities!" “ Sing a Song of Sixpence," is as old as minster. The principal entrace to the Hospital is on the sixteenth century. “ Three Blind Mice,” Newgate Street, through a brick gateway sur­ There is another immense and curious pic­ is found in a music-book dated 1609. " The mounted by a statue of Edward VI. in his ture of Christ’s Hospital scholars bringing Frog and the Mouse," was licensed in 1580. robes. At the right of the play-ground is the their drawings to be examined by James H. in “ Three Children Sliding on the Ice,” dates entrance to the cloisters, which form a large the midst of his court. This custom , is still from 1639. "London Bridge is Broken square, where the monks used to walk, and kept up, the boys going every year to the Down,” is of unfathomed antiquity. “ Boys where many burials have taken place. In the Queen at Buckingham Palace, who selects the and Girls Come out to Play,” is certainly middle ages, Gray Friars churchyard was three best drawings, and presents each of the as old as the reign of Charles II., as is also thought to be peculiarly free from flying de­ young artists with a gold pencil-case. “ Lucy Locket lost her Pocket,” to the tune of mons, and it became a fashionable burial place, The Hall is famous for its rats, who, at­ which the American song of ‘ Yankee Doodle ” almost as popular, even with royalty, as West­ tracted by crumbs and fragments of food, was written. " pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, where minster Abbey. Four queens lie there : Mar­ forage about by hundreds after dark, and it is have you been” is of the age of Queen B ess. garet, wife of Edward I.; Isabella, the infa­ the peculiar pride of a Blue to catch these “ Little Jack Horner, ” is older than the seven­ mous wife of Edw ard II.; Joan, daughter of rats with his hands only, traps being consid­ teenth Century . "The Old Woman Tossed in Edward II. and w ife of David Bruce, king of ered cowardly aids and unworthy the Hos­ a Blanket,” is of the reign of James II., to Scotland; and Isab ella titular queen of pital. which monarch it is supposed to allude. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 1 7

in some human heart. It could not be a take their evening drives together, be would Seed-time and Harvest voluntary desire with her to act this part to make a short excuse, to the effect that he was her husband, she could not believe him capa­ to ride in to Bascombe, where he had an engage­ ble of feeling the sort of need she desired to ment, or sometimes he would simply say he felt By SHERRILL KERR, f i l l ; but she remembered that she must choose disinclined to go. Self-love was the very strong - her pleasures no more than her crosses, and est feeling of his heart, and this had received determined to try, as far as she might, to make an overwhelming blow when Count Varene herself a comfort to her husband. She had had gone off with the Lynnes. He was thor­ (Continued from page 668.) much to contend with, of course. Alderstan’s oughly convinced that Ethel was the cause of surprised looks and scarcely concealed amuse­ it, and it was an offense he would not readily CHAPTER XXIII ment at the change in her, roused some of her get over. So she had to stand the trial of find­ worst feelings, and,often made her long to ing her overtures constantly repulsed—some­ gratify her swift impulse to utter sharp and times with positive rudeness. It was a weary E S PITE the quiet and perse- reckless words, and avow her deliberate choice and an incessant struggle, but she pursued it vering efforts which Ethel of an irresponsible, heedless, and wicked life, with more perseverance and consistency than c o n s c ie n t io u s ly made to such an impulse as she would quickly have she might have thought possible at the out­ change the tone of her life gratified a few weeks back. Sometimes she set, and the struggle that was in constant from apathy and inaction to spirit gave way and allowed herself to be morose progress within her made her life less aim­ and energy, she was very often and dull, thinking it best to be silent, because less and monotonous at least, and she hoped a heart-sick and weary and ready to an under-current of better thought and feeling little more earnest and worthy. One tempta­ give up. She had now a very clear kept her advised of the fact that in a less bit­ tion to desperation and rebellion that she had idea of what her life ought to be, ter moment, when she came to repent of this constantly to fight against, was the thought but to bring it up to that standard when her mood, the remorse would be less hard to bear, of the future. She could fancy all her weary husband was so unconformable and indolent if she had no weak and wicked words to call life being passed here at Coldstream, with and self-indulgent, seemed to her the next to mind, and fill her with an intolerable sense drives to Bascombe occasionally, and visits to thing to an impossibility. She was so con­ o f shame. But mostly she was able to con­ Col. March's. The variation of a visit to Lon­ vinced of her mistake in having separated quer; the hourly self-discipline she had im­ don in the season was not a pleasant thought herself in her pursuits and sentiments so j posed upon herself made self-control a habit to her, for she knew it would be fraught with completely and w ilfully from her husband, with her. I f she could have imbibed the idea new temptations to despair, and abandonment that it seemed to her now the Most mani- of self-castigation, rigid penance, and volun­ of the good purpose she was able to keep be­ fest part of her duty to identify him with tary bodily torture, she would have been capa­ fore her as long as she was left in quiet to her newly-formed resolutions, and associate ble, in her present mood of self-contempt and meet and combat temptations, and apply her him in their fulfillment. One of her greatest her passionate need of atonement, of carrying rules of self-examination and discipline. In causes o f remorse was that ever since her it to a fearful extent. She could have found the rush and excitement of London all her marriage she had only tolerated his presence keen satisfaction in the fasting and vigils, in rules would have to be broken through, and and endured such remarks and suggestions as the scourge and hair-cloth, the wounds and she had not yet acquired sufficient self-confi­ he chose to make, instead of seeking to bring bruises, but she could not accept these acts as dence and stability to be sure of herself in any about a conformity of purpose and desire and , a means of atonement. The crossing of her state and circumstances; indeed, she felt so establish common feelings of interest and s y m will and voluntary infliction of irksome tasks insecure and uncertain, that she had a nervous pathy. she observed, it is true ; but with a view of ac­ dread of failure if she should be placed in She imagined that this might have been quiring power over herself, that it might be more trying circumstances. She was in pain­ easily effected, if she had tried, and, that she | ready in time of need; it was with no ful need of some one to advise and help her had w ilfully hindered any such condition of thought of expiation. The tense strain which and give her a little sympathy, but there was affairs, made it the more essentially her duty j she put upon herself made her often nervous no one in all the world to whom she could to attempt its accomplishment now. So she and inclined to petulance, but the application turn for these. She began to realize the idea endeavored in every way to associate herself of her rules of self-control soon enabled her that just in this way her life would drift on with his affairs and interests and pleasures. to shake this off, and she found that, in the to its end, with slight variations of London, She would never have her meals now until he main, there was more peace in her present Col. March’s, and Coldstream, when one morn­ was ready for his, though she now always rose state of voluntary hardships than she had ing there came a large letter for her husband, at a stated hoar, much earlier than bad here­ found in the post time when she had so dili­ which gave a new and most unexpected turn tofore been her habit, realizing that if she was gently sought it through her course of doing to affairs. to succeed in governing herself, in the matter only what she liked and felt inclined to. She Among the inconsistencies of Alderstan’s of her changed conduct to her husband, she j used often to meditate, with a dim, sad wonder character was an aptitude for business that mast discipline herself in minor things. Her upon the time when she had found it so easy might have been turned to good account in self-examination had shown her that her to do right, when she had been conscious of the case of a poor man. He had carried on a greatest danger for the future, and strongest deserving the praise people gave to her. Her correspondence with the managers of Ethel’s fault in the past, had been indifference and | highest motive then had been not simply to affairs in America ever since her marriage, and inertia, not caring what came and not seeking, do right, but to deserve this praise, and the although she never asked questions, she was to overcome evil or encourage good So shed thought that a certain act was beneath the es­ satisfied that things were going on well, and made for herself a set of rules as to her daily timate people had of her, and had taught her Mrs. Stirling had more than once alluded to disposition of time, and clung to their strict to have of herself, was a sufficient impetus to Captain Alderstan’s judicious decisions in observance as her only hope of good. They enable her to resist wrong. Now it was all dif­ matters upon which the agents had written were not hard or vigorous ones; indeed, in the ferent, her old belief and pride in herself was for instructions, and said her husband was enthusiastic longing to do right which had [Utterly dead, her self-dissatisfaction made it much struck with the good sense of his busi­ prompted their creation, she had tried to think her impulse to do right for right’s sake, and ness views. So Ethel was quite willing to of how she could make them harder ; but there though she did not think of, nor realize it, this leave the management of her fortune to him, seemed no stronger way of crossing and con­ showed her on the Way to a better life. and had got to look upon the American letters trolling herself than that of forcing herself Her efforts to enchain her husband's attention that came for Captain Alderstan with as little to act with system, promptness, and uncom­ to his home and his wife were not met with interest as she gave to the rest of his corre­ promising conformity to rule, where she had much success. He would not seem to notice spondence. On the day when the letter allud­ formerly been so lax and listless and self-indul­ when she had waited an hour or so in order to ed to was received, however, she saw a look of gent. Again and again would come the old breakfast with him, and it often happened uneasiness come over his face as he read, and longing to be of use to some one to fill a need that when she would propose that they should was surprised to hear him say : B . -1 7 18 DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

“ Ethel, have you any personal knowledge Captain Alderstan had found the business she should ever find anything o f any actual in­ of this man Richardson in New York? " affairs in considerable complication, and he set ter to her again, when she heard a coming “ None at all,” Ethel answered ; “ he was himself, with an assiduousness that surprised step and looked up languidly to see who my father’s agent, and I believe he thought and pleased Ethel, to righting them. As he would pass by. The step came nearer and very well of him.” was necessarily absent for some hours of each reacted her door, and at the same time some­ “ Here is a letter that I don’t like,” said her morning, he strongly advised Ethel to acquaint thing clutched her heart and seemed for a husband uneasily. “ Mr. Stirling writes to her friends in New York with the fact of her moment to deprive her of her senses; but advise me that having reason to be a little being in town, and Ethel had been quick to pres ntly she drew herself up in her chair doubtful as to some of his dealings lately, he agree to this ; not because she cared for going and Recalled it all. Yes, she had seen Mr. Erie. went to him and put certain questions about out and receiving visits, but because she knew It was the grave, dark, powerful, unforgotten your property, which the man declined to her husband did, and she was sure that unless face, with more than the old nobleness in it, answer, unless he would show his authority they had engagements together for the even­ more than the old beauty and power, and less from you or me. Mr. Stirling also says that the ings, he was very sure to spend them away than the old sternness. The arbitrariness, the opening of a street in the rear of some of from her. So, as she would be detained in impatience, the repellent self-containment the warehouses has greatly increased their New York for something like a month, she had given place to* a gentler look. She value, and he learns that all the rents in the notified her friends of her arrival, and cards had noted all this in the quick moment neighborhood have gone up. Now Richard­ and visits and invitations followed in quick in which he had passed her by, not see­ son has written me nothing of this, but, on profusion. She was a beautiful and charming ing her or dreaming of her presence—all the contrary, has made much smaller remit­ woman, and was known to have married into this and something more. There was an tances lately, saying that rents had gone an excellent English family, and the personal infinity self-contained sadness in his face, a down and much was needed for repairs. I appearance and liberal style of living of her troubled anxious look that all the energy there haven’t liked the way he constantly talks husband at once made him sought after and could not hide. In a little moment of time he about repairs lately, and his charges have justified all that people could have expected had come and gone—and yet she had seen seemed to me very large. Still I did not of him. They had a charming suite of rooms, him clearly and palpably, within five yards care to annoy you about it, and thought I might and gave occasional dinners which were de­ of where a moment before she had sat so list­ be mistaken, but this makes me seriously un­ lightfully arranged and composed of the happi­ less and nerveless and dull. Now a fiery easy. I shouldn't wonder if I should conclude est mingling of people. So Alderstan found brilliancy shone in her eyes, a deep flush was to go over myself and see about this thing.” himself extremely well entertained in New on her cheek making her beauty a vivid and “ And take me with yo u ! ” Ethel cried, York, and the unfortunate habit possessed by glorious thing. She did not know how long it with sudden animation, but her heart sank, as j so great a number of our people of lionizing and was that she sat there holding to the chair—it she thought of the pain she would feel at Mrs. feting foreigners, and especially the English, could not have been many minutes ; but the Stirling's discovery of their unaffectionate and made him feel his own importance agreeably, rapidity of her agitated thoughts had crowded restrained intercourse, but her husband did and decide that America was a very good sort the feeling and emotion of hours into that not seem to observe the sudden change and of place, and the Americans a very discrimin­ brief space, when suddenly she heard a step re silence, and said : ating sort of people. Ethel, too, was entertained turning and the fierce clutch at her heart came “ Very well, I don't see what better we and amused, and most thankful to find her again. Before he reached the door she knew could do, and we have always vaguely planned | husband more agreeable and friendly to her that it was Mr. Erie, and she loosed her hold it, and now's as good a time as any other, and than he had lately shown himself ; but she upon the chair, dropped her heavily-ringed really, in a business point of view, it seems was pained and angry with herself to find how hands into her lap, and waited. This time he important.'' constantly she was restless and discontented, turned and looked in—a swift change passed and that the burden of living bore upon her over his face, as he paused and turned toward still with such a sad oppression. But time her—a convulsive working of the features, flew rapidly on, and the business was assum­ as of a man who comes out of the dark­ CHAPTER XXIV. ing such a shape that her husband said they ness into the sun's full lig h t; but it passed might go on for their visit to Mrs. Stirling in away in a moment, and left him composed and On e month later Mr. and Mrs. Alderstan a short while, and Ethel had begun to make calm. had left Coldstream and England behind them, her farewell visits and prepare for going “ Miss Chesney,” he said, in a low, deep and were established at a charming hotel in away. voice, as he entered the room, “ it can be no New York. In spite of herself, Ethel felt On the day before they were to leave New other—but how strange to see you here.” some pleasure and refreshment in being once York, Ethel, having been out making calls all pis calmness revived the sinking strength of more in her native country, and looked forward the morning, had come in weary and tired, and her spirit, and she rose and stood before with much satisfaction to seeing Mrs. Stirling sat in an indolent, languid attitude in one of the him. He took her hand for a moment and and the children again. She hoped she would deep chairs in her little parlor resting and then loosed it. She knew she ought to speak, not have much to fear in the matter of her wondering what she might do to beguile the but to save her life she could not utter a husband's conduct to her, as her now unfail­ tedium of the hour that would pass before Al- word. ing course of gentleness and considerateness derstan would come to dinner. She was in at “ I am mistaken,” Mr. Erie said, in guarded, for him had made it almost impossible for rich visiting dress, with exquisite laces ; the quiet tones. “ You are Miss Chesney no him to treat her with either rudeness or neg­ French bonnet, with its curling plumes, be longer, but for the moment I had forgotten lect, and besides, Ethel remembered that he came her admirably, and, despite her weari­ that, you look so entirely the same, though and Mrs. Stirling had been friends in Canada, ness, she was looking extremely beautiful, my memory has played me false in thinking and justly divined that he would take into but she suddenly became aware that the room of you pale and sad, instead of blooming and consideration what would probably be expect­ was unpleasantly warm, after her drive in brilliant as I see you.” ed of him, and his pride would teach him the open air, and rose and opened the door In the returning consciousness which Ethel conformity thereto. She felt a little regretful that gave upon the hall. There was felt she fancied she detected a shade of bitter­ sadness at the remembrance of her aunt's old but little passing about at that hour, ness in these last quiet words, but she was enthusiastic admiration for and ardent belief and she even found a little interest in the obliged to pass that over as the necessity for in her, and wondered if she would not see movements of the few who came and went. speech could be postponed no longer now, that she was changed, now that her belief in She sank into her chair again and began to “ I am very glad to see you, Mr. Erie,” she herself was gone; but she knew people made draw off her long gloves preparatory to the said, in a formal tone ; “ you have taken me allowances for changes of all kinds, and hoped change in her toilet which she must make for so by surprise that I could hardly realize it her aunt would perceive nothing in either j dinner. She was feeling very listless and out was yourself. W ill you not sit down ?” herself or her husband to mar the pleasure of spirits, and finding the struggle very hard Mr. Erie brought a chair and put it near of their intercourse. and tedious, and wondering a little whether her own, closing the door as he passed it. DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 19

“ Your surprise can scarcely equal mine,” ‘‘Some business matters, connected with have thought of her, and to hear of her con­ he said, ‘ ‘ as I did not know you were in my property, brought us to America. M y tinued illness has been a grief to me, too. America, but I was not troubled with any husband has been greatly occupied with look­ You will let me see her, I trust, though, of doubts as to its being you— I could never fail ing in to these since we came, and I have not course, she has forgotten me.” to recognize you on the instant." yet seen my relations. W e leave on to-mor- “ You will find that she has not,” Mr. Erie “ And yet you say you find me changed,” row for a visit to my aunt.” said quickly. “ I w ill bring her to you at said Ethel, feeling that she might now allude She spoke in a composed voice, and her for­ whatever hour you appoint this evening.” to his words which had seemed so cruelly sar­ mal words seemed to put him at a great dis­ A shadow passed over Ethel's face. castic when she applied them to her listless, tance, nevertheless he preserved his interested “ W e are engaged for the opera to-night,” weary life. tones as he said : she said sadly, “ but I will see if I could pos­ “ I wished to compliment you,” Mr. Erie “ So you leave to-morrow! And when will sibly escape it. I could not hear to go away said, in a cool, light tone. “ I said you were you return to England?” without seeing the child. How good of you more blooming than of yore.” “ I cannot tell,” said Ethel. “ Perhaps in a to speak to her of me, and keep me in her Ethel felt inexpressibly cut and wounded few weeks, perhaps not for a month or two. memory.” by these cold, indifferent words and her mouth Captain Alderstan has made no definite plans “ I don't think she would have forgotten looked piteous and entreating as she turned as to that.” you, in any any case,” said Mr. Erie. her eyes downward and said in low and trem­ “ Shall you go down to Fenly ? ” he asked. Ethel took ‘ these words as a desire to dis­ ulous tones: “ No—dear old Fenly! ” said Ethel ten­ claim having talked of her to the child, and “ I have had great trouble. I am not gay derly. “ I should like to see it once more, but was sorry that she had gone so far as to pre­ and brilliant as you think me. I wear these I have no idea that I shall. ” sume that he had done so. When he had rich clothes because I m ust; but my heart “ Still I am glad you speak fondly of it. spoken of the shadow on his life, she could w ill never leave off its mourning for its dead. The place, in spite of its dull ugliness, is still not divine whether he meant his wife's death I have had great unhappiness or his child's illness, and she felt and grief, and you are wrong to that, after having seen and talked speak to me so scornfully and to Mr. Erie, she understood him accuse me o f forgetfulness. " very imperfectly. It was clear " I accuse you ! ” he cried (oh, that he remembered her kindly, “ the thrilling, tender, proud, but it might he as much for her pathetic voice i ” ). “ You do not father's sake as anything else. comprehend me. I would die There had been a moment's before I would offend or injure silence between them, when Mr. you. Forget my foolish words.” Erie said: He spoke with deep fervor and “ You must not think of giving passionate earnestness, and his up the opera for to-night. If you words made Ethel feel more find you have time I can bring tremulous and agitated still. He Nelly to you earlier.” saw the nervous workings of her There was something in the jeweled fingers, and was the first quiet formality of bis tone that to recover his calmness. hurt Ethel, and there came to her “ I have heard of you only face again the distressed and rarely,” he said in a guarded humnled look that no one but Mr. steady tone ; “ but the news of Erie had ever seen th e r e . your dear father's death came to "You know I do not care for me, o f course, and brought with the opera,” she said, with her it its heavy weight of sadness. eyes lowered to conceal the tears I mourned for your father with that had gathered there. But you, Miss Chesney,” he said they were evident in her voice. speaking the name readily, and “ You think me utterly light and without seeming to realize its in- frivolous, and it is not kind of appropriateness after he had said you, when you don't know.” it. “ I never had so honored and SHE HEARD A STEP PAUSE OUTSIDE THE DOOR, THE HANDLE TURNED, AND “ How can you misunderstand SHE KNEW THAT MR. ERLE WAS COME. dear a friend, and I felt it bitterly me so ? ” Mr. Erie said with Later came the news of your marriage to dear to me, though you may not have heard ! quick reproach fulness. “ I think nothing but an* Englishman. I don't think I heard the that I no longer live there,” what is good of you. What reason have I name, and I know I heard no particulars, “ Yes, I saw Mr. Hall in England and he given you to doubt it ? ” but from my heart I have wished you happi. told me,” Ethel said, with a quick recollection “ I know i t ! " Ethel cried with smothered ness. ” of the other facts that she had learned from agitation. “ You scorn me for what my life Oh, the mockery of his speaking to her of Mr. Hall. Perhaps Mr. Erie divined her has been.” happiness and peace! The cruel bitterness of thought, for he said at once, in a slow, grave | “ Remember how utterly ignorant of it I his words ! Ethel felt them keenly and pain­ tone : am, before you accuse me of anything so mis­ fully, but they made her feel the necessity of “ I have had trouble, too, since we parted. taken and unjust,” he said fervently. forcing herself to be calm in order to resist the Perhaps Mr. Hall told you.” Ethel had not paused to think of that. In impulse she had to cry out in agony. Ethel bowed her head. her confused agitation she did not take time “ You have been very good,” she said: " I “ Yes, I heard,” she said gently. “ I felt to reason. She saw Mr. Erie before her, with thank you for your recollection o f my father. for you. I know what your grief must more of the power and nobleness on his face He is always the thought nearest to my heart, be.” than she had seen in the old time, when she and to hear that some one here, in his own “ I have passed through much pain, since I had known him. His whole look and bearing country, remembers and speaks of him thus saw you, and a lasting shadow has fallen on made her feel, with renewed force, his superi­ gives me great comfort.” my life, but I will not grieve you by speak­ ority to other men. The purpose and good of Mr. Erie observed that she did not speak of ing of it. I have little Nelly here with me. his life, the patient labor in which his time herself, and perhaps a sort o f waiting look I hope you remember her yet.” was passed, resulting in the achievement of upon his face made her realize the fact that “ Could you think I would forget her?” good and the lessening of evil, and contrasting be expected this, and continue rapidly : Ethel said. “ You do not know how often J her estimate of his life with her certain 20 DEMOREST'S monthly MAGAZINE.

knowledge of what her own was, made her I hoped, with all sincerity, that it had come to “ Ah, you live at Fenly?” Alderstan said, seem so miserably beneath him, that she was you, because I thought you worthy. ” entering easily into the conversation. “ I prepared for his doubt and scorn, and morbid­ Ethel lifted her pale face and looked at him think Mrs. Alderstan would like to go down ly sensitive to find some expression of it in with excited incredulity. there, but I fancy we won’t have time.” his words and looks. She had been so swift “ Do you not know,” she said eagerly, “ that “ I did live at Fenly, when Mrs. Alderstan in forming her conclusions about him, and I am miserable ? That my life is empty and was there," M r. Erie answered, “ though I felt so entirely certain that her vivid and in­ aimless and altogether weary ? Could it be have since moved away. I should not think tense convictions as to the nature of his so, unless I was wicked and neglected t h e you would find much to interest you there, purposes and life were accurate and just, that duty that every condition of life brings with it ? though, of course, Mrs. Alderstan would like she felt as if he must fathom her in the same 0, Mr. Erie, you will never understand.” to see her old home and the servants. There way. He saw her in sumptuous apartments, She spoke with low, fervent vehemence; is not a good society there, and you would in­ richly clad in laces and silks and jewels, rest­ and rose and walked across the room and back; evitably find it very dull.” ing from a round of visits to prepare for an I again excitedly. ( “ He thinks St. George too shallow for engagement for the opera, and knew of her “ Dear Mrs. Alderstan,” Mr. Erie said, stand­ resources in him self, and too dependent on marriage to a rich young Englishman of high ing, and looking at her with grave, sympathetic excitement to find sufficient entertainment for birth, and it seemed to Ethel that with these eyes, “ is there anything I can do to help a day or two in me,” Ethel thought, with a lights, aided by the swift intellectual sym­ you ? You are unkind not to let me, if I can.” sudden revulsion of feeling that had come with pathy, that had made her comprehend him so Ethel felt the kindness of his tones, and the keen consciousness of her husband’s being promptly, he must know that she was leading a knew he meant to be patient and gentle with in the presence of a man who was in every shallow, aimless, miserable life. The keen con­ her, but from the first word that he spoke way his superior, and who, as she fancied, viction that he did divine this, and used those there had come a chilling, composing change must feel it so), so she said in a high, light cold and formal words in consequence, made upon her. He had called her Mrs. Alderstan. tone : her ten times more wretched and dissatisfied Was it to remind her of what that title im­ " Captain Alderstan is quite accustomed to with herself than she had been y e t ; and the plied? Her quick pride made her resolve at and likes the country, but I see no use in our earnest kindness of his last words only made once to show herself not impervious to the undertaking the trip. W e want to travel in her feel sure of one thing—that he pitied, as warning. So she turned her face away a mo­ the North a little before returning, if there is well as condemned her. ment, and then walked calmly back to her time.” Again a long silence had fallen between chair and sat down, facing him. He resumed After a little more indifferent and general tin m, and Ethel felt angry that he did not his seat also, and waited for her to speak. conversation, Mr. Erle rose to go. speak. The chance was so rare, and she “ Seeing you again has brought back to me “ W ill you not dine with us ? ” said Captain would have nothing to recall when this inter­ such memories of the past as to unnerve me,” Alderstan, rising too. view was over. She wanted him to say some­ she said calmly. “ I have been able to talk “ I am much obliged,” Mr. Erie replied for­ thing that it might comfort and help her to to no one else about my father as I can to you, mally, “ but I have an engagement which remember. She had such a longing for this and it brings my grief up fresh and new be­ will prevent.” that it helped her pride in enabling her to sup­ fore me, and seemed to make it wicked and Then he went up to Ethel and said : press the strong desire she had to pour out to forgetful that I should be gay and careless “ If you are to go out this evening, I may him all the sorrow and wrong of her wretched now that he is gone. Y o u must excuse my not see you again. I am sorry to see so little wasted life. Presently he spoke : fretfulness and agitation. It is over now. ” o f you on your Visit to America, and that I “ You are going to-morrow,” he said, “ and Mr. Erle looked surmised and puzzled, and w ill have to say good-bye to you now.” w ill shortly return to England. __ Then I shall j was about to speak, when a step was heard Ethel, in spite of her proud composure, was not see you again." approaching, which made Ethel flush slightly frightened at this but she gave no sign except The words roused Ethel, and she drew her- and draw herself into an erect and waiting at­ to Say calmly, self up, saying eagerly : titude, and Mr. Erie at once divined that she | “ You have forgotten that you promised me ‘ "And I have so much to ask you— so much supposed the coming person to be her hus­ I might see Nelly. W ill you bring her to me that I shall be sorry not to know after you band. In another moment the door opened and at seven ? I shall be quite at leisure to receive have gone. O, Mr. Erie, tell me about your­ he entered. It was not a favorable moment | her then.” self—are you happy ? ” for a stranger to observe Captain Alderstan “ You are very kind to remember it,” Mr. T h ough Mr. Erie smiled, he answered seri­ for the first time, for his long and unusual ap­ Erle said ; “ I w ill bring her, certainly.” ously : plication to business had annoyed him, and he Ethel observed the distant politeness of his “ Do you think that matters much? So looked tired and warm. He was always a tone, and was hurt by it—not remembering. long as one is striving and can feel that one has man whose good looks depended upon his that her course had been such at the end of not quit! failed, that ought to be enough.” being well kept, and as his toilet was usually their interview as to imply a desire to put him “ Ah, but suppose one feels that one has scrupulously nice, he usually looked well, hut Lt a distance. failed,” said Ethel, excitedly, now his hair was dishevelled and his clothes _____ “ He can still struggle on,” said Mr. Erie, hung loose and careless, and one hand Was “ and need fail no more.” Then he went on, thrust in his pocket. He had his hat on, too, CHAPTER XXV. in a changed tone, of personal interest, sepa­ and Ethel thought she had never seen him rate from the feeling with which he had spoken look as flushed and unhandsome. Perhaps ft W h en Mr. Erie had left the room, and Al- of these abstract subjects. “ But you must there was a reason f or th is; perhaps it was derstan had gone to arrange his toilet for din- let me ask something too. Are you hap- only the contrast to the dark, pale, cool-look­ e r, Ethel sank back in her chair and fell to py?” ing man who rose to face him, as Ethel, ris­ thinking. She determined to dine in her pres­ “ You show what you are thinking,” Ethel ing too, said, in a quilt, collected tone : e nt costume, in order that she might secure to said, bitterly. “ The striving and labor and “ Let me present my husband, Captain A l­ herself the time during which her husband noble fulfillment are for you— and the happi­ derstan, Mr. Erle.” would be away from her. She was deeply ness, apart from all of these, you leave to me. Alderstan took his hand from his pocket, agitated and confused as to her future course, You do not think me fit to struggle, but only removed his hat, came forward and offered his and the new restraint she had imposed on fit to be heedless and gay.” hand; while Ethel felt a thankful satisfac­ herself made her involuntarily ask herself She dropped her face in her hands as she tion that his inherited good breeding was a what was the highest right. Her desire was to spoke, while he answered her in atone of hur­ thing that did not fluctuate; no matter if his ask her husband to excuse her to the friends ried amazement: beauty did. she had promised to join to-night, as she was “ How strangely you misunderstand me.’ " Mr. Erle was an old friend of my father’s,” really very tired and worn out. She knew he Do not think that I underrate happiness. I she said, reseating herself ; “ he has been giv­ would be disappointed, because he was proud believe it is the sure result of a good life, and ing me some news of Fenly.” of her beauty and the admiration she created, DEMOREST'S MONTHLY M A G A Z I N E . 31

and also because in sitting up a whole evening ; Ethel said nothing in response ; and Alder­ If she had gone, submissive and gentle, to in an opera box with people in whom he felt stan, who was always particularly good-hu­ her husband, as she had often shown herself no especial interest, he would be less bored if mored, when moods like this came on in his lately, and said she was tired and would like she were there, for her gracious tact was often j wife (and he was not wholly unacquainted to remain and spend a quiet evening with her the means of ridding him of unpleasant tete- with such), went now on in a polite easy way ; old friend, and if he had agreed to it, as was a-tete, and arranging things the better to his | “ I saw Robert Ashton, to-day.” at least possible, she could perhaps have liking. And on the other hand, if she could j “ Ring, please," said Ethel, pushing back stayed and talked to Mr. Erie without too manage to be excused and remain at home, her plate of soup, and feeling that she would much self-reproach and compunction of con­ Mr. Erle would come to her and spend all the go mad, if he continued to discuss these in­ science. But if she were to stay after the evening, and she would sing to him and talk I different trivialities, while her brain was on rebellious conduct she was conscious of hav­ to him about the things which were nearest fire with the tantalizing contrast between the ing indulged in for the last hour, she would to her heart, and in which she felt that no one alluring wrong that she bad decided to forego, feel herself so utterly wicked and at fault else could quite understand her. It would be and the painful right she bad decided to ac­ that the quiet, hopeful, comforting conver­ a delicious evening, but the very delight cept. sation with Mr. Erie which she had antici­ with which she thought of it alarmed her ; “ And he said,” proceeded her husband, in pated would have been out of the question. the keen longing which she had for it made the same easy tone, after he had politely com­ So her husband’s brief and cutting words did her realize the more correctly the danger j plied with her request, “ that there was to be for her what no amount o f kindness could there would be. Her ardent desire for this a supper at Colonel Howard’s after the opera, have done. They made her realize that if she gratification was so mighty and passionate, and that Governor Somebody and Secretary resisted the temptation to stay and went with that she knew if she conquered it, she would Somebody else would be there, and it would her husband, that act, after the anger and re­ have a claim upon Mr. Erle's respect which she | be a splendid affair. So you bad better dress bellion and fretfulness she bad previously had never had before and could never have, if accordingly.” shown, would not do more than balance the she yielded to the temptation now. And when To be directed as to a toilet, in her present good and the evil. Still the good impulse she came to look the matter in the face she | state of feeling, was so intensely exasperat­ within her, which bad been roused sufficient­ could not doubt that to go with her husband ing to Ethel, that it would be hard to say how ly to settle her decision, clamored for satis­ was the course of duty. So she fretted she would have received it, if the man had faction, and made her decide not only that she a little, struggled a few moments with the not here appeared to remove the first course. would go to the opera, but would act with rebellious tears that would come, and then j “ Please be very quick,” said Ethel, address­ submission and deference to her husband’s resolved that she would go. But in h e r ing him with forced politeness— she might be wishes in doing so. So, when she left the struggling progress toward the right she had rude to her husband, but she could not be dis­ dining-room, she went at once to her dressing not attained enough yet to make her capable j courteous to a servant. The fatiguing routine table and arranged her hair in the shining, of a complete and unreserved sacrifice. She of dinner was exceedingly trying to her, and careful plaits round and round her head, and had determined to go, and she felt conscious she longed to have it over. It provoked donned the shining silken dress. Then she of having done a great deal, when there was her, too, to see how her husband en­ put on the whole of her handsome set of dia­ such an overwhelming temptation to do other­ joyed th e delicate dishes before them, monds—what she did not often d o; clasped the wise just within her grasp, and she felt in­ while everything was so tasteless to her. rich bracelets on her arms and the delicately jured and fretful, and conscious of having After the next course had been served, and set necklace about her throat, drew on her done a brave thing because it was the hard they bad dismissed the attendant, Ethel made gloves, and stood before the mirror complete. right, and also of the fact that her husband no attempt to show that she took any interest The pale, melting color of the blue silk and had done nothing to deserve such a sacrifice at | in, or had even heard her husband’s last an­ its thick, dull texture became her admirably, her hands. But the sacrifice, feeble and in­ nouncement. She was conscious of feeling but she turned from the mirror with a look of complete as it was, was an evidence of a rebellious and wicked, and also of not having discontent. She hated to appear before Mr. stronger self-mastery than Ethel, a few any desire to feel otherwise. She was going Erle so ; it would confirm him in the very con­ months back, would have been capable of, and to give up a happy quiet evening with Mr. clusions about her which she wished most that she did not realize it now, as a sign of her Erle, for a stupid noisy one with a lot of peo­ ardently to avoid ; but the failure of her first progress and acquired power in the right road, ple who did not interest h e r; and that was attempt at sacrifice had made her determine was not the worst of its features. She knew i quite enough, she thought, and, for the rest, to be most rigorous and strict as to this, and she ought to have done it, and she had done it; she would be as cross and disagreeable as she she knew it was her husband’s wish that she she knew also that she ought to be patient j chose. should be richly dressed, and also that her and humble about it, but that she would not | “ What will you wear to-night?” asked husband’s wish and not her fear of Mr. Erle’s even attempt to be. If she must give up the Captain Alderstan, apparently not conscious disapproval ought to be her guide. So she only chance of a happy evening which she of the fact that he had been snubbed. took her handkerchief, opera glass, and large had had for years, she would do it, but she “ I don’t know— what I have on, perhaps,” white wrap in her hands, and went in to him would not pretend not to feel it hard ; it was said Ethel, impatiently, taking a grim satis­ in the parlor. He was reading a paper, and hard—bitterly, cruelly hard— and she felt her­ faction in saying this, because she knew a did not look up when she entered ; she walked self injured and aggrieved. So she was very ! rich silk, with trimmings of rare lace, had over to where he sat and stood before him, cross to her husband during dinner, and very been laid out on her bed ready for her attend­ and as he looked up she said : silent and dull, and when he put that most e x - ance at the opera—having been left out, in “ St. George, I hope you are pleased with asperating of questions : “ What's the matter the general packing up, by her express direc­ me. I have thought better of what I said at with you?" tions. dinner, you see.” She answered crossly : “ Perhaps you had better stay away,” said “ I am glad to observe it,” said her husband “ I am tired and worn out. I've had the her husband, his temper giving way at last. I returning to his paper and speaking coolly. most wearisome, fatiguing day, and have seen “ I only wish I could,” said Ethel, with an He thought she deserved a snub in return such a lot of stupid people.” impatient sigh. for the one she had given him, and it suited don’t see why you may not,” returned bis present mood very well to deliver it. Ho " I shouldn’t say your friend, Mr. Erle, was her husband. “ I had much rather dispense was too used to the influence of her exquisite stupid,” said Alderstan, eating his soup. “ He looks capable of cutting a man right through with your society, if this mood is to continue.” beauty to be seriously affected by that. with his eyes.” Ethel looked at him quickly to see if he was Ethel was able to take this conduct on the in earnest, and discovered that, as far as she part of her husband with entire calmness, as "D o you not think him handsome?” said could judge, he was entirely so. But now she was quite prepared for the exasperating Ethel, forgetting her griefs for a moment. that her coveted freedom was within her change of humor that had taken place in him. “ Handsome ? That depends. He looks like reach, she suddenly found that she did not It very often happened that he pointedly a brigand find it desirable under these circumstances. maintained a good-natured course when she DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

was fractious and irritable, and then, when a toward them calmly, but her eyes still showed the same time slipping it off and putting it on contrite mood came to her, would choose to traces of the tears that had been hurriedly the largest of the child’s small fingers, which display the resentment for her late conduct brushed away, though the child seemed to look it fitted very loosely. “ And will you give that he had felt all along. So she made no at them none the less admiringly for that, and me the pleasure of thinking, when I am far comment upon it, but quietly passed him by, their beauty went more directly to Mr. Erie’s away across the ocean, that you are wearing and went and sat down on a deep lounge a heart, at that moment than it had ever done it for my sake? I’ll teach you a little line little way off. She had put on and carefully before. Ethel sat down on the lounge and about it that you will read in a wonderful buttoned her long gloves, but she now began lifted the child to her lap, bending over her book when you are older. Some flowers have to draw them off, half absently and half be lovingly. meanings to them, and the line I mean is : cause she felt more untrammeled when her “ Nelly, do you know who I am?” she P ansies, that's for thoughts.' hands were bare—the heavy bracelets were asked. cumbrous enough at any rate. In a few mo­ “ Yes, Miss Chesney,” said the child, "You must remember it, and let the little ring ments Alderstan rose and went into his room promptly, lifting her sweet serious face to remind you of Ethel, even if you never see to dress. The making of his toilet was always meet the tender gaze of Ethel’s dark eyes. her again. ” a lengthy operation with him, and Ethel began “ She has learned to know you so,” said Mr. “ But I thought you were going to sing to to wish that Mr. Erle and the child would Erie, apologetically, and then he added speak- me some time,” the child said. come so that she might have them with her ing gently to the child: “ Miss Chesney is “ So I am,” said Ethel, “ but when I’ve for as long a time as possible, but it yet lack­ married now, Nelly. You must ball her Mrs. sung, and told you good-bye, and gone away, ed a few moments of seven. She sat with her Alderstan.” you’ll wear the little ring, and remember the eyes fixed on the hands of the clock on the “ Please not,” said Ethel, speaking with line—won’t you ? ” mantel until they came to seven, and yet a quick emotion. “ May she not say Ethel? “ Yes, 'pansies, that’s for thoughts,’ ” the little longer, and then there was a tap at the That is one of the few things that belong to child said, turning the little ring around on door. She rose and went to open it, perfectly me always—past, present, and future. You her finger, and seeming to be pleased with it. calm and composed, and prepared to meet Mr. will call me Ethel, won’t you, darling ? ” At this moment there was a sound, and Cap­ Erie without any of the perturbation she had “ Yes, and won’t you sing for me, please?” tain Alderstan entered. He looked very ele­ shown in their late interview. He was stand­ the child asked, at the same time holding out gant and fashionable in his faultless evening ing at the door alone, and for a moment he a few sweet buds and leaves that she had held dress, but contrasting its careful details with looked at her without speaking a word. Ethel in her hand when she first came in. “ I the unconventional simplicity of Mr. Erie’s could not account for this, as she was totally brought you these if you will have them.” costume, it was as offensive to her, in her unconscious of the entrancing spell of her “ How sweet of you to think of it,” Ethel present mood, as the difference between her own loveliness, and never divined that that said, taking out the glittering diamond pin own splendid adornment and Nelly’s little could be the cause of his self-forgetfulness. that fastened the laces of her square corsage, white lawn dress and black ribbons. The two But he quickly recovered himself, and said to while she carefully fastened the buds where gentlemen stood talking together for a few her in a low, grave tone : it had been. " Where did you get such lovely moments, while Ethel sat quite still with the “ I wanted to prepare you for the change ; flowers ? ” child upon her lap; bolding the little pale you will see a great one in Nelly, and I fear it She asked the question heedlessly—only to bands in hers, and thinking innumerable swift will grieve you. I wanted to tell you and beg show her interest in them, and also to divert and painful thoughts. Presently a servant you not to mind." the child’s mind from the music for which she knocked and announced their carriage, and He turned away then, and walked a few felt herself unequal, but when Nelly’s an­ Mr. Erle rose to go. Ethel bent over the steps down the hall, and in a moment returned swer came it touched her anew. child and kissed her softly on brow and lips, with the child by the hand. One moment be­ “ Papa gets them for me every day,” she and then put her down and rose. Mr. Erle fore Ethel had felt herself calm enough to said. “ all sorts of flowers. I like roses and came toward her and held out his hand. She meet any issue without emotion, but she had violets and pansies best of all. ” | gave him her cold fingers quite simply and not prepared herself for the heart-breaking “ Nelly does not care for toys,” Mr. Erie said only a quiet good-bye, and turned away sight of the tiny fragile child, with the sweet said. “ Flowers and music are the only into the inner room while her husband ac­ face she so well remembered, drawn and con­ things in which she seems to find pleasure.” companied Mr. Erle and Nelly to the door. tracted with pain, and the once straight and “ Yes, you were going to sing,” said the When she had entered her sleeping-room, she slender figure broadened and bent in mis­ child, when he spoke of music. walked a few steps forward, and then stood shapen disfigurement. Mr. Erie led the child “ I really don’t believe I could,” said Ethel, suddenly perfectly still, with a hard, set look into the room, and turned to close the door looking appealingly at Mr. Erle. upon her features. She was realizing that behind him ; as he did so, he heard a quick “ Nelly, Mrs. Alderstan is tired and cannot she had parted from Mr. Erle perhaps for all smothered exclamation, and when he turned sing to-night. You must not ask her again. time, and that the parting had been formal he saw that Ethel had sunk upon her knees, We must bear our disappointment without and without Significance, as it should have with all her delicate flounces crushed careless­ annoying her.” been in the presence of the man whom her ly beneath her, and had folded her tender A fretful impatient look came into the sick own free will had made her husband. She arms about the child’s bent form. As he child’s face. She was evidently not used to felt no inclination to cry out—lamentation was came a step nearer, she looked up at him— having her wishes crossed. too hopeless a thing. No expression of her her lovely eyes were full of tears. “ Papa told me you would sing,” she said, feeling could possibly do any good. She did She loosed the child, and rose with her face in petulant disappointment. not think of staying away from the opera. averted, as she turned away. Mr. Erie took “ So I will, another time,” Ethel said, with She was under the influence of a dogged reso­ Nelly’s hand and led her off to the other side eager haste. Mr. Erle understood her words lution to proceed with what was before her. of the room, saying gently : to be only a means of pacifying the child, but She felt that she must go on. So, when her “ See, Nelly, here is a beautiful fan with a they were really the result of a newly-formed husband called to her, Ethel went calmly back bird on it something like the little robins at determination within her. Nelly looked only to the parlor wrapped her fleecy shawl about home,” taking up Ethel’s fan and showing the partially appeased, but as Ethel laid her hand her, put her h and within her husband’s arm child first the designs in the lace and then the over the little pale one that lay in Nelly’s lap, and suffered I him to lead her down to the car­ pearls which headed the rivet in the handle. the child’s eyes caught sight of a pretty little riage. She did not heed—she scarcely saw Nelly looked at the fan without much interest, ring which Ethel wore on her little finger ; it the passing people, who regarded this strik­ and laid it down on the table again, and turned was set with an enameled pansy with a dia­ ing couple with animated interest. Alderstan to look for the beautiful face of which she had mond heart. Nelly took no notice of the had drawn on a light overcoat, but it parted had but a brief glimpse before she had been splendid diamond on the next finger, but lifted in front, and showed plainly his perfect even­ folded in the, caressing arms. By this time Ethel’s hand and looked at this. ing dress. He carried his opera hat in his Ethel had composed herself, and she turned “ Do you like that, Nelly ? " Ethel said, at hand, as he passed through the halls, and his DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 23 bare blonde head was a very comely thing to her calm deportment until she had gone of eager curiosity. The dog, with that instinc­ see. They were not talking to each other, through with her adieux to the many people tive knowledge which animals show of trouble but that gave them a more marked English who crowded around her, knowing she was in the household, has crept out of harm’s way air, and corresponded with Alderstan’s unmis­ to leave next day, and yet farther until she under the chair, and peers out with a quizzi­ takably English appearance. Perhaps no one had traversed the lobbies on her husband’s cal expression to see what is going on. thought of whether Ethel was English or not. arm, calm and beautiful, and had got into the There are few genre paintings more admira­ The rare existence of a perfectly beautiful carriage that awaited them. Then a sad, sad ble in composition, expression, and execution woman should entitle her to the claim of a look came over her face, and her fingers than that from which our engraving is taken. cosmopolitan origin. worked themselves convulsively together, and Full of quiet humor, it tells its own story In the same silence they entered the carriage the color faded slowly from her cheeks. Al­ with rare expression and graphic fidelity ; and that was awaiting them, and drove swiftly to derstan noticed that she was pale, when they Is one of those serio-comic home scenes not the Opera House, and, as they passed through were once more in the light of the hotel, and unusual in the house that holds a boy of an its crowded lobbies, the same attention was advised her to go at once to bed, as she was inquiring mind and venturesome spirit. bestowed on them as in the hotel, with the to travel the next day ; he himself was going ------same gratifying result upon Alderstan, and below to smoke and look about a bit, he said. the same careless unconsciousness on Ethel’s So Ethel hurriedly took off her gorgeous or­ The Spirit of Love and Truth. part. They were prompt in their arrival, and naments and quietly went to bed ; but an even, (See page Engraving.) the curtain had not yet risen. Room was soothing sleep had come to her husband immediately made for Mrs. Alderstan to pass many hours before she was able to take her to the front of the box, and with her settlement thoughts off the miserable weary subjects HIS strikingly beautiful en­ into the seat which had been arranged for her that claimed them now, at every quiet time. graving is from an alto-relief there, the look of satisfaction sat on Mrs. (To be continued.) of the sculptor, Joseph Howard’s face which comes to people in the Edwards. It was executed fulfillment of an ardent expectation. Colonel for the authoress, Mrs. S. C. Howard moved forward to Ethel’s side; the Domestic Troubles. Hall, and forms a part of a man­ curtain went up, and the opera began. It was telpiece, which will account for its the Trovatore, and poor Ethel was seized with (See page Engrafting.) peculiar form. It is fifteen inches a mighty fear of its power over her. She had by six, and is of the purest white trusted in the hard, resolute mood that had marble. come upon her to take her through the even­ HIS is a well-told story of do­ The sculptor of this charming work of art ing’s ordeal successfully, and she knew that if mestic troubles, the painter’s is most at home in the purely ideal, and is she listened to this music, and suffered it to brush portraying the scene indebted for his reputation to such produc­ enter into her soul, there might be a revulsion far more graphically than the tions as ‘'Religion consoling Justice,” “ The of feeling which she would find ungovernable. writer’s pen can do. The artist, Last Dream,” and “ A Vision.’’ Although “ The So she tried to close her heart to the passionate John Burr, a Scotch painter, has Spirit of Love and Truth ” is produced in the strains of l l Balen and Non ti scodar di me. produced a painting of remarkable cold, calm beauty of marble, the sculptor has She tried to divert herself by looking scan- spirit, humor, and fidelity, of which infused into it wonderful vitality and expres­ ningly around the house, and fastening her our engraving is an excellent repre­ sive loveliness. It is not a marble figure that mind upon the people and costumes before sentation. is bringing to us a lesson of love and truth, her, or any object that would hinder the mu­ The shadows of evening are beginning to but it is some angelic being, who comes to sic’s influence. Then between the acts she fall around the old farm-house. Supper time smooth with her celestial message the ways shut out recollection by rapid talking with draws near; the tea-kettle is put on the fire of life, made rough by the demoniac hands of the different gentlemen who came and went. place, and soon its evening song will float into falsehood and of hate. Every one of these was eager for the distinc­ the room. The old-fashioned bellows is called “ Truth,” says the poet, “ has her head tion of a word or a smile from her, and to­ into requisition to fan the embers to a blaze ; among the stars.” Thus we find “ The Spirit night she proved less chary of her favors than but, for the first "time, it fails to do its duty. of Love and Truth ” crowned with a star, and her husband had ever seen her before. "Who­ The reason soon becomes obvious : the mis­ encircled by a galaxy of stars, which spread ever furnished her with diversion or amuse­ chievous urchin, desiring to see in what part a halo of light around. Floating in the air, ment she was gracious to, though these were of the bellows the wind is located, cuts the the light streaming on her upturned face, in some cases men whom she would have dis­ leather with destructive curiosity. But swift lovely in its noble serenity, “ The Spirit of liked at other times ; but she encouraged much comes Nemesis, in the form of an enraged Love and Truth ” spreads forth her arms, dis­ talking and effort at wit, and laughed freely if mother, upon his path. She does not spare playing the beautiful motto, “ Ever let Love there was a bare excuse for it. A Mr. Landys the rod, but administers a castigation which and Truth prevail.” was the recipient of marked favor, though he makes a sadder, if not a wiser boy of the If this motto had been written on the tab­ was not known to be either especially dignified young offender. She is evidently not disposed lets of our hearts, on the door-posts of our or profound ; but he told amusing stories and to drop the matter here ; but stands prepared, houses, on the walls of our public temples said things which were striking rather from with rod in hand, to repeat the punishment. and business marts, that Paradise lost by our the boldness with which they were put than Her hand has not been a light one, for the first parents would have been regained by us. from any positive quality of their own , he boy stands peering in at the door with an ex­ Home would mean happiness, life would be was also vain, egotistical, and frivolous—the pression of pain as he rubs his arm. The ma­ the blessing God intended it, and heaven sort of man Ethel most detested—but she let ternal countenance and uplifted rod indicate possible even on earth. For those sisters him sit nearest her now, and encouraged him what his prospects are if he ventures within fair, “ Love and Truth,” bring no discordant in all his various lines of being entertaining, the room, which he has no desire to do at music from the harp of life. It is they who and laughed and responded with such zest present. " beat our spears into pruning-hooks ; ” who that he began to flatter himself that he had The old grandfather undertakes to put the j make our " deserts to blossom as the rose; ” really been able to impress the beautiful Mrs. bellows in blowing order again ; but, to judge | and who go out from our storm-tessed arks, Alderstan—a thing no one else could boast; from his puzzled expression, he finds the task bringing back the olive branch of peace. but the next morning, when Mr. Landys more difficult than he anticipated. The grand­ With this motto, engraved in golden letters called, on the strength of this, Mrs. Alderstan mother, having no faith in her husband’s on our hearts and homes, Peace will sleep received his card, but was excused. powers as a bellows-mender, resorts to the sweetly in the arms of “ Love,” and “ Truth,” What a relief it was when the opera was primitive method of bringing the coals to a standing on immortal heights, will shine fairer ended and they might go home ! Ethel felt blaze ; while the little child stands by the old than any creation of the sculptor's art or the almost ready to cry for joy ; but she preserved man, watching his efforts with an expression poet’s fancy. 24 = DKMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

The Innocent for the Guilty. (Cause beautiful, sat apart at her knitting, seemingly into something like interest in what was pass­ unconscious of the gossip within or the ele­ ing around her. Her pale cheek flushed into Célèbre.) mental uproar without. a wild-rose color, and her great black eyes Suddenly distinct blows were heard on the softened and drooped, while her white lips BY HART ARYAULT. outer door, given apparently with the handle quivered with a new and vague emotion to of a rid ing-whip, and the men removed their which she could give no name. A ray of joy pipes from their mouths and listened ; the had penetrated the desolation of her isolated I e r r e d u v a l was th e boys ran clinging to Suzanne, who started spirit, and she felt for the first time since her thriving host of “ Le Plat like a person awakened from a heavy sleep. mother’s death as though she were no longer d'Eta in ” a small inn at the “ Whoever can it b e? ” exclaimed the land­ alone. As her shy glance rested on the beam­ extremity of a little country lord. ‘ ‘ It is past the diligence hour, and no ing face, whose noble brow bespoke candor, on town near Nantes. The patron­ traveler could be abroad in this weather. ” the waving clustering curls of the fair hair, her age accorded him was well Again the loud knocks echoed through the heart swelled at the bitterness of her position. earned, for nothing could be kitchen, and Pierre Duval, somewhat reluc­ What could she appear, in the eyes of such a more inviting than the luxury of tantly, took up the lamp, traversed the passage, being as he who was before her, but a menial, cleanliness that pervaded every and demanded, without attempting to open at the beck and call of every one who could nook and corner of his establishment. On the door, who was there. repay her services with money! While he— the ground floor there was a large entrance- “ A traveler,” was the impatient reply. the poor girl choked back her tears ; she was hall, from which opened on the right hand “ Open the door quickly, and don’t keep me not free even to weep over herself. a dining-room, and on the left a spacious out here in this panning rain.” In due course the supper was served and kitchen, where the cooking utensils gleamed “ Ta ta ! don’t be angry, Monsieur, whoever discussed, and then her stepfather harshly brightly in the light of the fire that always you are,” grumbled the host, as he drew back bade her light a candle and conduct Monsieur blazed within the ample chimney, and whence the pondrous bolt and unlocked the door., “ I to his room. Suzanne obeyed passively, and the savory steam of many a well-cooked dish beg Monsieur will remember that he has ar­ led the way to a clean and pretty chamber on came temptingly to the craving appetite of rived at an unusual hour, and as our country the next floor. the hungry wayfarer. is swarming with robbers it behooves honest As she placed the light on the table, the stran­ Mine host had been twice married, or, as he folks to he careful to whom they open.” ger addressed her with courteous grace : argued with himself, he had tried both ex­ As he spoke he raised his lamp to a level “ Mademoiselle cannot be the daughter of tremes. Ho had indulged in the luxury of a with the stranger’s face. The investigation the landlord,” he said. dame comme il fa u t, the reduced widow of an apparently terminated satisfactorily, for his “ I am his stepdaughter, Monsieur,” she army officer, who, terrified at the beggary that manner changed, and he bowed obsequiously, answered, while a vivid blush overspread throat stared her in the face, had given her hand to shouldering his guest’s portmanteau and pre­ and face. the landlord of “ Le Plat d' Etain ” in order to ceding him to the kitchen. “ I was sure Mademoiselle was not of the secure bread for herself and her child ; and A handsome and graceful young man threw bourgeoisie ; those delicate hands and the slen­ who, after an unhappy year or two, had pined off his large military cloak that was dripping der grace of Mademoiselle’s figure bespeak and died, leaving her poor little girl to the with mud and rain, and rubbing his hands better blood. Have you many travelers in not over-fond stepfather, who quickly chose gleefully, ensconced himself in a snug corner the house to-night ? ” a more congenial mate in a good stirring by the fire, saying in a clear joyous voice, “ You are the only one, Monsieur.” homely femme de menage. But Pierre Duval “ This is charming, mine host; one would say “ I am glad for your sake, Mademoiselle. was destined to be unfortunate in his matri- that you were expecting me, and bent on giv­ W ill you tell me your name ? ” nnnial speculations, for his second choice, ing me a warm welcome. I only ask now that “ Suzanne, Monsieur.” after making him the father of three boys, you will hasten my supper, for I have fasted “ A sweet name, and one that becomes you left him again widowed, and, in view of Su­ since I left Saumur, and as I want to get off well,” said Leon de St. Colombe, as he gazed zanne Meuron, his stepdaughter, rapidly at­ to ------, at daybreak to-morrow, I should like to lingeringly on her downcast face. taining to a serviceable age, he resolved go to bed early and get all the rest I can.” The young girl asked timidly, “ Does Mon­ thenceforth to continue the Alpha and Omega “ It shall be as Monsieur directs,” said sieur require anything more? ” , of his comfortable establishment. Pierre Duval; “ but Monsieur will pardon me “ Nothing,” said the young man bowing as Suzanne was beautiful in no ordinary de­ if I venture to remind him that had he kept courteously as to a high-born dame. “ Good­ gree, with so much of the grande dame in the in the diligence which passes through the night, Mademoiselle.” simple dignity of her manner as to be alto­ town, instead of stopping here, he would have “ Good-night,” Suzanne murmured hardly gether incompatible with the scenes and per­ arrived a t------to-night.” above her breath as she descended the stairs sons with which she was associated ; and her “ Ha, ha!” laughed the stranger; “ it stumbling at every step. stepfather, who could not be branded as a seems that you are either very curious or very Leon could not recover his astonishment. sentimentalist, utterly failed to understand timid, mine host; in order, therefore, to tran- Who could this young girl be ? How was it. the proud delicacy of her reserved nature. quilize you I will explain that my family live that so coarse and uncongenial a man as the host Her life was therefore far from happy, as it a t------, and by continuing my journey in the could stand in the relation of stepfather to was a continued struggle to bear up against diligence I should have arrived at the chateau her? He was thoroughly mystified, and yet the constant outrages inflicted on her sensitive in the middle of the night—an arrangement that this was her home was nevertheless evi­ spirit. comfortable neither for myself nor for my dent. The artistic grace with which every The night when our story opens was a friends, when by spending the night under object in the room was disposed attested no stormy one in the latter part of January, 18—, your hospitable roof I can arrive in their vulgar or servile hand. The snowy draperies, when the wind was sighing and surging with­ midst by dinner-time to-morrow.” the pretty toilet, all bespoke her care and out, and the rain plashing against the closed “ Monsieur misunderstands me,” protested taste. Who could she bet shutters of the “ Plat d'Etain, " where Pierre the somewhat embarrassed host. “ One look After all, he thought, as he piled fresh logs Duval, his children, and a neighbor who had into Monsieur’s frank and handsome face is on the fire, what is it to me ? I am but a pass­ taken shelter from the inclemency of the enough, though I was puzzled to guess, what ing traveler; to-morrow I shall be with my weather, were seated around an enormous fire caused Monsieur to stop here, and break in dear mother and sisters until my leave ex­ of pine logs, indulging in local gossip and a cap­ upon his journey, I confess.” pires; so, Monsieur le Sous-Lieutenant of Cava- ital glass of wine. The three boys, half-fright- During this brief dialogue the eyes of the lerie, as you’ll have to be up betimes, you’d ened at the wind roaring in the wide chimney, stranger followed Suzanne’s graceful move­ best retire. and half-amused by the conversation between ments, as she prepared his supper, with un­ When Suzanne returned to the kitchen, she their father and his guest, were huddled to­ disguised admiration and astonishment, and found their neighbor had availed himself of a gether in a corner, while Suzanne, pale and she on her side was for the first time aroused clearing in the weather to wend his way home- DEMOREST’S MOFTHLY MAGAZINE. 2 5

ward, and the boys had re­ Madame de St. Colombe tired to their beds in the sighed. “ He is absent grenier but her father was from home, my son. You not alone. A second trav­ know he is frequently ab­ eler had taken up his rest sent, and we are as little at Le Plat d'Etaim, a man as ever in his confidence.” past middle life, tall and “ How long has he been powerful, with grizzled gone, mere ? ” asked Leon, hair and beard, and a sin­ “ and do you not know ister light in his restless when to expect him eyes. But his manner was back?” self-possessed and easy, “ He left three days and the landlord was wait­ since, and as he is rarely ing on him with great re­ absent oyer four days at a spect. time, we look for him at “ I must be your only any moment now.” guest to-night,” he was “ And is he as distrait saying as Suzanne entered and low-spirited as when the room. I saw him last ? ” “ Pardon, Monsieur,” “ Unfortunately, yes,” was her fathers reply, replied the gentle matron. “ the room next yours is “ I fear he has met with already occupied by a great pecuniary losses, and young man who arrived in the future of his children diligence ; but there presses heavily upon him is —but,” she added bright­ you, as be is worn out ening, “ let us talk of with fatigue, and is to yourself, my darling. it is STRIKING STEADILY DOWNWARD WITH ALL HIS FORCE HE SEVERED A FINGER FROM THE take an early start in the HAND THUS TRAITOROUSLY EMPLOYED. morning.” The stranger arose, and after giving careful j its binges. Trembling with anger, the young journey was directions for a saddle-horse to be ready for man resolutely raised his sword above his Do not be him by seven o’clock next morning, he fol­ bead, and striking steadily downward with all said Leon, la lowed Suzanne, who once more ascended the his force he severed a finger from the hand venture worth stairs to show the new-comer his room. thus traitorously employed, A smothered “ An adve In the meantime Leon had got into bed, but groan fell upon his ear, and then stealthy chorus. “ OH his brain was too busy to allow him to sleep. steps retreating along the passage, and all was us hear all ah The anticipated meeting with his parents, his "again still. Trembling in every limb, Leon They gathe: newly-acquired rank, the mystery attached shrank from touching the hideous trophy of with their re to Suzanne, the storm that was dying away in his victory, but, overcoming his weakness, be pale when he wild gusts of wind, and the moonlight that picked up the severed finger, remarking, as of the prece threw a fitful gleam across the uncarpeted be did so, its slender proportions and well-kept handkerchief floor of his chamber, all made him wakeful; nail, and wrapping it in a handkerchief, shiv­ dently folded. so, when he heard the heavy tread of a man’s ering sought his bed once more. At this moment foot traversing the passage and passing the door He soon fell into a profound sleep, from and a large stalwart of his room, he was conscious of every sound. which he was awakened by the landlord bring­ saturated from rain Suddenly a thought struck him, and springing ing him the matutinal cup of coffee. torted by pain. He sank into across the floor he brought his sword from the Great was that honest man’s consternation while the whole party ran farther side of the room, and placed it under when the events of the night were related to ward him exclaiming: his pillow. After this he seemed to fall into him. He turned ashy pale, and rushing to “ Father here is Leon ! ” a restless sleep, from which he was awakened the door of his elder guest he flung it open. " But, are you ill ? ’’ exclaimed the young by midnight chiming out from the old clock The room was empty. Traces of blood be- man, whose extended hand had met with no in the kitchen below. The house was wrapped smeared the window sill, and the window was responsive action on the father’s part, and in profound silence, when suddenly he became wide open. Looking down into the garden glancing toward what was so strangely with­ conscious of a sound as though the key slowly below, the heavy impress of a man’s foot was held, he remarked that it was enveloped in a turned in the lock of his door. He listened j visible on the damp and soaking soil. There blood-stained linen. attentively, but as the sound was not repeated, could no longer be any doubt in Pierre Duval’s “ Yes,” was the faint reply, “ I have been he began to think he had been the sport of mind that the stately traveler, who had so attacked by brigands in the forest three leagues his over-excited nerves, and drawing the bed­ impressed him with an idea of his importance from here this morning, and in endeavoring to clothes closer about him he endeavored to go the night before, was none other than the defend myself, the scoundrels struck off one of to sleep. He had nearly succeeded when he mutilated robber. His indignation and horror my fingers. I am faint from loss of blood ; was a second time disturbed, and now he was were extreme, and he no sooner saw Leon off give me a glass of wine.” convinced he made no mistake. Some one than he hastened to acquaint the police with Leon stood motionless like one in a fright- was trying to enter his room. His candle had the tragedy which had desecrated his hitherto ful dream, while his mother and sisters be­ burned out, but, by the straggling rays of respectable house, and set them on the rob- stirred themselves in tender care of the in- the moon, he noiselessly groped his way to the ber’s track. | valid. door, and stood by it sword in hand. He had In the meantime Leon de St. Colombe had Suddenly little Marie, their youngest dar- carefully locked his door on retiring, and had reached his home, where his mother and sis­ ling, who had understood very little of what little fear that the fastening could be forced, ters welcomed him with vehement joy. After | was going on among her elders, but who with but accidentally casting his eyes on the floor, the first greetings were exchanged Leon asked : a child’s curiosity had busied herself in un­ he saw that a hand had been introduced be­ “ But where is my father? His welcome and folding the handkerchief which Leon had left tween the boards of his chamber and the bot­ congratulations are still wanting to complete upon the table on the entrance of his father tom of the door, and was trying to lift it from my happiness.” cried out, clapping her chubby hands: 2 6 DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

“ Oh, papa, papa! here is the finger Leon “ To prove which fact,” said a low clear “ inspired ” willingly enough ; but let him be cut off at the auberge, and you can have it in voice coming from the body of the court, “ I a rough, quiet worker, not proclaiming him- place of the one you lost.” submit to the President the finger I cutoff I self melodiously in any wise, unpretending, The police were already on Monsieur de fet. under the door of my room, which he will see and letting all his littlenesses and feeblenesses Colombo's track, and in another hour he was belongs to, the left hand, while Monsieur de be seen unhindered, wearing an ill-cut coat in the hands of justice, having been clearly St. Colombo was mutilated in the right.” And withal, and, though he be such a man as is tracked by the traces of his blood from “ Le as Leon ceased speaking, an officer of the only sent upon the earth once in five hundred Plat d'Etain” to his own chateau. court laid the finger upon the President's years, for some special human teaching, it is The tenth of March saw the assize court at desk. irreverent to call him “ inspired.” Nantes filled to overflowing with its citizens. An expression of astonishment was visible A drama of real life, one in which the culprit on the face of the learned judge as he verified Of all the poetry I know none is so sorrow- was a man of old and honored family, was be­ this assertion, and handed the trophy to the ful as Scott's. Other great masters are pa­ ing enacted in their midst. A father was to be jury. thetic in a resolute and predetermined way tried for the attempted murder of his own son. Leon de St. Colombe had thus frightfully when they choose, but in their own minds are No wonder the whole community were con­ mutilated himself to save the honor of his evidently stern, or hopeful, or serene, never vulsed with unusual excitement. family. really melancholy. Byron even is rather The court, the prisoner, the jury, were as­ The young soldier's career was over. He sulky and desperate than melancholy ; Keats sembled, and the proceedings had begun. sought and obtained a dangerous post with is sad because he is sickly ; Shelley because he The first witness was called. Pale and agi­ the army in Africa, where he was killed in is impious; but Scott is inherently and con- tated, dressed in his uniform of a cavalry his first engagement. sistently sad. Around all his power and officer, and wrapped about by a military cloak, Before leaving France he had seen Suzanne. brightness and enjoyment of eye and heart, Leon de St. Colombo answered the crier's Each appreciated the devotion of the other; j the far-away AEolian knell is forever sounding ; summons. He raised his right hand and re­ each felt that thenceforth they had done with there is not one of those loving or laughing peated the oath in a steady voice. the world as they gazed at each other for the glances of his but is brighter for the film “ Your name ? ” demanded the President. last time. tears; his mind is like one of his own rivers, “ Leon Ferdinand Marie de St. Colombe . " " I understand, Suzanne," he said to her, it is w hite and flashes in the sun Your age ? ” “ and I accept. Adieu till death reunites us.” fairly, careless as it seems, and hasty in its She answered solemnly, “ Adieu, my Leon, going, but till death.” Leutenant of cav- This was their troth-plight. “ Far beneath, where slow they creep From pool to eddy, dark and deep. Where alders moist and willows weep, the nocturnal Yon bear her streams repine." persisted, upon irse unable to Gleanings from Ruskin. ninal, nor did Life begins to pass from him early ; and while Homer sings cheerfully in his blindness, the prisoner's er sat, guard- O D appoints to every one of and Dante retains his courage and rejoices in rme. He was his creatures a separate mis­ “ hope of Paradise” through all his exile, sion, and if they discharge it Scott, yet hardly past his youth, lies pensive in sweet sunshine among the harvest of his ness. “ Pierre honorably, if they quit them­ native hills. ee days, selves like men and faithfully be hall. “ Su- follow the light that is in them, girl dressed in there will assuredly come of it such There is an expression and a feeling about black veil conceal- burning, as, in its appointed mode all the' hill lines of nature which is not to be to the witness box. She and measure, shall shine before men reduced to line and rule, nor to be measured back her veil, and a and be of service constant and holy. Degrees by angles or described by compasses—not to ghastly in its pallor, from of luster there must always be, but the weak­ be chipped out by the geologist, or equated by black eyes were gazing with est among us has a gift, however seemingly the mathematician. It is intangible, incalcu­ fixedness, was disclosed to the trivial, which is peculiar to him, and which lable—a thing to be felt, not understood—to crowded court. She trembled violently as worthily used will be a gift also to his race be loved, not comprehended—a music of the she took the oath, but when desired to say if forever. eyes, a melody of the heart, whose truth is she recognized the prisoner, she answered known only by its sweetness. firmly : Let us beware that our rest in this world “ No.” becomes not the rest of stones, which so long Now it so happens that by far the largest Did not the recording angel blot out with a as they are torrent-tossed maintain their ma­ part of things happening in practical life are tear the perjury this poor girl had committed jesty, but which, when the stream is silent and brought about with no deliberate purpose. to save the father of the youth to whom, in the storm has passed, suffer the grass to cover There are always a number of people who one short hour, she had given her heart ? them, the lichens to feed on them, and are have the nature of stones ; they fall on other Lacking the evidence of the landlord or plowed down into dust. persons and crush them. Some again have his stepdaughter to establish the identity of the nature of weeds, and twist about other the culprit, the circumstantial evidence— Happily for mankind beauty and ugliness people's feet and entangle them. More have though overwhelming—still failed to convict are as positive in their nature as physical pain the nature of logs, and lie in the way, so him. His counsel made an able speech, in and pleasure, as light and darkness, or as life that every one falls over them. Most of which he endeavored to prove an alibi. He and death ; and though they may be denied or all have the nature of thorns, and set them­ argued that it was impossible to prove that misunderstood in many fantastic ways, the selves by waysides, so that every passer-by the prisoner had slept at “ Le Plat d'Etain” most subtle reasoner will at last find that color must be torn, and all good seeds choked ; since the only witness now alive who must and sweetness are attractive to him, and that or perhaps make wonderful crackling under have seen him, had positively sworn she did no logic will make him think the rainbow various pots, even to the extent of prac- not recognize hint. “ No, gentlemen of the somber or the violet scentless. tically boiling water and working pistons. jury,” he concluded, “ the prisoner is a vic­ All these produce immense and sorrowful tim mutilated by violence which has beefi Let a man have shaggy hair, dark eyes, a i effect in the world. Yet none of them are explained, but the sword of the son is un­ rolling voice, plenty of energy, and a facility doers ; it is their nature to crush, impede, and stained by his father’s blood.” of rhyming or sentencing, and we call him prick ; but deed is not in them. DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 2 7

Where I First Saw the Obelisk. It was a tribute to her intellectual taste when take off the veil of the past. Alexandria would Mark Antony presented to her the great Per- arise from her long burial, would display gamenian Library, which bore comparison her Egypto-Roman and Egypto-Macedonian with, but did not equal the one which had supremacy, and, in comparison, the curious E landed in Egypt after two been lately burned. Cairo, to which we hasten for its Saracenic hours of winding among the Our ship had nearly reached the wharf architecture, would be a modern city. low, curving strips of land and no longer moved. It was time to leave After an appetizing breakfast, with birds which form and diversify the our Cleopatra's barge of thought, and we singing and flowers blooming—it was a May beautiful harbor of Alexandria; beckoned to the boatmen whose breasts were morning in January, 1879—we hastened to the city which for nineteen cen­ broadly labeled “ Hotel d’Europe,” and hav- drive to the Obelisk and the Pillar. “ Pom- turies has held the Egypto-Ameri ing pointed out our luggage to the hotel agent, pey’s Pillar" was not erected by or in honor can Obelisk; the Alexandria which who alone came on board, we went ashore of the distinguished Pompey ; “ Cleopatra’s was founded by Alexander the Great, without any of the confusion and annoyance Needle" was not by Cleopatra’s order, but by and received his name two thousand two hun­ of which all the guide-books had forewarned that of an ancient Egyptian king, Tahutimes dred and twelve years ago; the Alexandria us. j (or Thothmes), hewed out of a bank of the which three centuries later was the home A human Wall, composed of people bright­ | Nile, 1590 B.c. We saw it standing by the of the great historical beauty of the world, eyed and dark, yet not of the negro race, en­ | sea, in an uhkept, shade-treeless region, not Cleopatra, who passed away a few years be­ vironed the landing, and without offering a near modern pleasure-life, and with nothing fore the twin obelisks of New York and Lon­ word, looked upon us as though they thought around it betokening a reverent affection, or don were transferred to Alexandria. we were a sight indeed. We, on the other befitting an object of remote antiquity, and She often looked at them in her chariot hand, thought they were the sight. We were probably of a religious character; an emblem drives over Heliopolis, which was near the seven, the only passengers on a ship of the of the sun's rays; the work of kings so long apex of the great Delta; and she wondered Rubattino line—three Australians, viz., Man­ ago wrapped in mummy cloths that we do not how Her predecessor monarchs of the ages ager Lister, of the Melbourne Opera House, know exactly what their names were, and but past felt when they drove around these mon­ his wife, a “ prima donna," and with them a lately have learned to read their character-let- uments, and read intelligently the curious and principal tenor, who had come by the Pacific ters. shining hieroglyphics. How the gilded hawk Ocean, North America, the Atlantic Ocean, and The one ancient relic which the devasta­ high on that tall spire must have shone from across Europe, all this without a passport, and tions of time had left to Alexandria was a afar on the wide sunny plain of Heliopolis, were on their way home by Egypt, the Red treasure there as it is here. We have it hon- with every chance for the reflection of light I Sea and the Indian Ocean, to Melbourne. The estly, as honesty goes, yet we have despoiled More centuries have passed since thy time, fourth passenger was a professor in the Na­ Alexandria and enriched ourselves, even as O famous and fascinating queen ! than lay be­ tional Conservatory of Music at Naples. The she despoiled Heliopolis. tween the obelisk-hewet and thee, and we of fifth was a young clerk from the Cairo Post- There were great flapping objects moving the West, looking backward, are now as curi-| office returning to his nineteen brothers and about the streets, presenting a broad front of ous of thee as thou wert of Tahutimes; and sisters, all the children of two Italian parents; loose black, inflated in the wind, unshaped by our obelisk is more wonderful to us, than as the sixth was the Reverend Head of the whole dressmaker's scissors, and free of the omni­ a Heliopolisian obelisk it was to thee. European Expectant Church, commissioned to present pins which here plentifully bestick The spacious and, let us believe, ever-placid encourage the scattered several in Alexandria our female attire. I hardly knew what these bay of Alexandria is one of the finest on the and Cairo, who were waiting, in their white things were, for no signs of a human being Mediterranean Sea. Alexandria is the sum­ garments of faith, to ascend and meet Jesus in were revealed—none until I noticed a pair of mer resort of the wealthy Cairenes, for the the clouds. I was the seventh of the tourists, eyes. These were the women. No cheek, no sake of the sea-breeze, and the bay answers in this accidental companionship of four or nose, no chin, no mouth—nothing but eyes. the place of a drive, when—with Egypt’s mild five days, and when we drew near Egypt, it The men also being in habiliments not ad­ air, with a great number of small yachts, and was often discussed whether the four of the justed to the form, were not too readily recog­ ships with their floating banners from all the seven: who had no passports would enter the nized—not as we here, at less than half a countries of Christendom, and around us, the Land of Goshen. The provided three pre­ glance, know which are the men and which old shores which once were familiar to Per­ dicted that we would be sent back to Naples are the women. sian, Macedonian, and Roman conquerors, and on the ship that brought us. I clung to the This first lesson learned, which is more be­ native land to the celebrated woman whose three Australians until a glance was given to wildering than you may imagine, the next luxurious yachting we commemorate to this the visiting card of Manager Lister, and his mystery to clear away was the cut and the day in the favorite name, " Cleopatra's hand-bag was opened, which was all the cere­ put-on of these robes. But this subject, which barge"—in a brilliant reverie we dream of mony that preceded our exit from the cus­ took a longer time and some attention to get a more than we see, of temples, universities, tom-house and entrance into the city of the knowledge of, comes decidedly under the de­ libraries, monuments, and gardens, which Ptolomies. An active city to-day, although partment of dress and fashion. stood here in the hazy past. the dynasty that made it a magnificent capital Anna Ballard. Alexandria is the principal city in the south has been extinct for nineteen centuries ; a city and east Mediterranean, on all the long so old that, like Damascus, its ruins are little stretch from Gibraltar around to Constanti­ fragments, or else mere dust. What more of nople the one large, Europeanized city. It the past may exist is hidden by the burial of HONEST Belief.—The honest expression was a great seat of learning, from its founda­ the ages, covered with ground by Time, the of an earnest belief ought always to awaken a tion, more than three hundred years before slow-working sexton of the nations. respectful sympathy, even in those who can­ Christ, nearly until the grand division of the And, since we have accepted and removed not share i t ; and, if we only drew closer to Roman Empire about a.d. 400; for the very the obelisk, Alexandria has not a single emi­ those whose opinions are adverse to our own, first Ptolemy, he who came immediately after nent mark of history, except one Roman- we should find much in them to draw forth Alexander the Great, planted the famous Egyptian monument to the Emperor Diocle­ this very sympathy. Nothing can be more Alexandrian Library, the library of Aristotle tian, about a.d. 800, and down this part of the unjust than to charge people with moral de­ the philosopher being the nucleus. Cleopa­ past of the world we set little value upon any linquency because their intellectual percep­ tra was the last of the Ptolemies. She died antiquity that does not date from before the tions are at variance with our own; yet this thirty years before the Christian era, and, as Christian era. is precisely what we do when we decry an she was learned as well as beautiful, we may All the old empires are covered with ground opposite party and attribute to its members infer that she knew all that was known at —all Syria, Asia Minor, Italy; anywhere the mean and unworthy motives, when their only that nearer age about the long-previous obe­ Roman Empire spread her eagle wings of crime is that they will not adopt our views or lisk-hewing and pyramid-building Egypt. wealth, we have only to dig into the soil to pursue our methods. SB DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

We cannot tell where usefulness or happiness borne, the burdens taken up, and bravely begins for us, nor where it ends ; it may be and silently carried, while the processions are Talks with Women. marred by a piece of mince pie, or helped by going by, and the whole world seems to be what seems, at the time, an untoward event. singing a Te Deum laudamus over the univer­ Having no omniscient knowledge, no omnipo­ sal prosperity. This is true of nations, as BY JENNIE JUNE. tent power to direct or control events, the only well as individuals. The world is not happy thing that remains to us is to do the best we to-day. The veil has been torn aside from can with ourselves, and trust the rest to the the inner life of queens and emperors, of WHAT THE PAST HAS DONE FOR US ; working of a Power whose manifestations we princes and statesmen, and we see that all see all around us. the happiness they find comes from the prac­ WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS One thing we may be very sure of, that, in tice of the commonest virtues, the cultivation FOR US. doing the best for and with ourselves, in the of such tastes and occupations as are shared true and noble sense of these terms, we are by the least distinguished of their neighbors doing the best we can for others ; for our or subjects. duty to ourselves is so blended with the duty I do not decry wealth, or its power, or its HE New Year comes to us we owe to others that they cannot be disso­ influence ; on the contrary, poverty, even un­ with a friendly hand-clasp, ciated. We cannot be sick, we cannot be sel­ certainty, is a cruel strain upon mind and and we take it, perhaps with fish, we cannot even be ignorant without in- body, depriving life itself of enjoyment in J returning confidence and juring others. On the other hand, we cannot the present, and hope - for the future ; but cordiality, perhaps with fear and be healthy, and strong, and cheerful, and what I urge is this, that we are not to be de­ trembling, perhaps with indiffer- helpful, and self-forgetting without being a ceived by the cry of present or future pros­ rence, for life may not as yet have conscious or unconscious blessing and comfort perity into supposing that it is going to im­ forced its serious side upon us in to others, and these influences act and react in prove the status of each separate individual; J such a way as to compel serious myriads of ways every hour and moment of on the contrary, the tendency of all material thought on our part when we come to one of our lives. advancement is to made a few rich, but its milestones. We may not have learned to Sickness and selfishness are not accidents, many poor, and women will share the fate of yield frank acknowledgment of its goodness, any more than dirt and cleanliness; they are men in this respect. or brace ourselves up with fresh courage and the result of causes which have been at work What to do in the premises is not so clear. determination to meet its cold withdrawal of perhaps before we were bora, but are still There are thousands of women all over this sunshine and favor. But there comes a time capable of being helped or hindered; of be­ country to-day, who are, beyond all measure, to us all when we must think, when the past ing assisted to perpetuate what the folly or puzzled to know what to do with their lives. and the future assume most attractive or wickedness of ourselves or others began, or They have capacity for something, they know menacing aspects, and looking at them by the checked by determined effort in a new and not what, whether for writing a book, or light of experience it is hard to say which are better direction. starting a millinery store; but they are held the more dangerous. Life, as a whole, is not It is a great thing to have been bora with a partly by fear, partly by a sense of duty to easy for any of us—doubtless, it is easier for good and harmonious temperament, to have parent, or brother, or sister, and the years go some than others—but even ease is not always inherited a sound and healthful organization, by, and the strength and the opportunity with happiness, and the law of compensation is so for these things attract to themselves pure them. This is in many cases not right. Give closely interwoven with every circumstance of and wholesome influences, and the life thus the girls all the chance that is given to the human life, and so rigidly enforced, that we environed finds no temptation in what is low­ boys; let them go out if need be to seek or may be sure that some sharp, keen-eyed in­ ering in tone, degrading in association. But make their fortune, and trust them to give a strument of its purposes is always lying in then, on the contrary, such happy transmission good account of themselves in the future. If wait to execute its commands. is as yet rare ; the converse is more often true, you have not fortified them against evil and Yet life is not necessarily a sandwich—a that is, the inheritants of strong passions temptation you cannot do it now, and both slice of good and a slice of evil. There are and appetites and weak moral power to re­ will find them at your own hearthstone as persons whose lives throughout have been sist what presents itself in the form of temp­ easily as elsewhere. There are plenty of exceptionally happy ; but they would have tation. We have not as yet reached perfec­ chances for girls nowadays, if they do not all been more or less so anywhere, under any cir­ tion ; but we are capable of growth, of im­ make a rush at one thing, and that probably cumstances, for they are born with happy, provement, of making advances upon what the one for which they are the least fitted. It harmonious temperaments, and the good, the we were, and have been; and working up is not necessary to wait long to find out what sweet, the wholesome, and the true have a toward an ideal which we should set high if you want to do ; do anything; you will find natural affinity for them, and keep them sound we hope to accomplish anything in the way your way out if it is not the right thing, and and pure. Our philosophy of life has been of self-enlightenment. all experiences are valuable. Only let it be very imperfect so far; we have imagined that The present age seems to me a very decep­ something you can do at least tolerably well. we could do a little wrong, or be a little, or a tive one in regard to real progress. We boast There are plenty of copyists of bad things; good deal, wrong and get rid of it, as of a bad of material advancement, but are the great plenty of imitators of poor work. What is condition of the body by taking a pill. But masses really enriched in mind, body, or es­ needed are women who will put intelligence, we are beginning to discover that we cannot tate, and are they really any happier? A brightness, ideas into common things, both at do either ; that the secret of perfect health great deal of money is made and spent, but is home and abroad. of mind and body lies deeper ; tha i t begins it not creating false wants, widening the gulf We have such women, thank heaven, as the with the foundations, and that if these are not between the rich and the poor, and reproduc­ mistresses of happy homes throughout the sound and strong and well laid the super­ ing for us the question of Caste which has country-—clever women who can mend, and structure cannot be relied upon. been the stumbling-block of all ages, and make, and keep a house as sweet as a pink, Moreover, this soundness, and evenness, all nations? Thus, the mere acquisition of and dress their children till they are as pretty and strength, and their perpetuity in the wealth and power does not mean the increase as Kate Greenaways, and find time to decorate character of the structure, depend upon the of good things for the majority, but the few, their mantels with drapery, their chairs with quality of the bricks, stone, mortar, and the and the enhancement of happiness only tem­ art needle-work, and their walls with fern way in which they are laid, and if this is the porarily as it is increased for a time by novel­ baskets and all sorts of dainty trifles of their case with mere materials for erecting a wall or ty and possession. But all women do not own devising. But these women do not real­ a floor, what must the necessity be, and what share in the golden shower any more- than all ize the good they are doing to the rest of the must the danger be, in the multiple of ele­ men ; nor do taste and the power of enjoy­ world, the happiness they create for every ments that go to the formation of the human ment have much to do with the distribution one about them, the influence their bright­ body, the development of the human mind ! of wealth ; longings have to be stifled, crosses ness and cheerfulness and many-sided activity DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE, 29

exercise not only upon the present, but the chair tidies, and the like. But nothing can to be entered into without proper guaran­ future ; because these things have not a mon­ be purchased that is not ridiculously expensive, ties. ey-value, cannot be bought and sold like because intelligent industry, that which knows The one great use of men to women is as stocks, and have no pecuniary interest even how to combine simplicity with true esthetic walking-sticks, as escorts. They made it un­ for their husbands. taste, has not yet been applied to it, except in safe for women to go out alone, and then So it is not any wonder if they get a little a private way. Kate Greenaway struck a made it a virtue to protect her. Many a discouraged, and wonder if they might not vein, and made her fortune by producing a woman has married for the sake of having have taken their goods to a better market, if true baby face. Her faces are rarely seen some one to escort her to concerts, and balls, somewhere in the world there is not a place among the grown-up children of to-day—with and lectures, and found too late, that by that where they are needed, where honor, and dis­ their airs, and their ball-room manners, and very act she has not only lest her escort, but tinction, and even fortune would have fol­ elaborate dress. But they are the new, wonder- all chance of obtaining one forever. lowed the unfolding and development by struck, just-awakened faces that seem to be­ Marriage therefore is not a certainty even of encouragement and concentration of their long to childhood, and they have become such legal rights and privileges, and its doubtful powers. It is not likely that such a place a rage that the future may produce them in issues will aid the extended opportunities would have been found, but it might, and it real earnest; for artificiality soon sickens of which women are making for themselves, in is natural for them to dwell Upon it, when itself, and dies a natural death. rendering it less desired as well as less desir­ they find themselves and their work little I think it is a pity to be forced whether one able as a means of life settlement. This is thought of at home. There are great suc­ wishes it or not into the spirit of money-get- certain to be the case in the future; and as a cesses which seem only like happy accidents, ting ; I would like myself to work without a result we shall see strange events, a revolution and the girls and the women are achieving thought of it. I should be glad never to see in circumstances—elderly women, who have them nowadays simply by making use of it, but to find my home, my books, my friends, achieved fortune and independence, marrying faculty and opportunity. my work, and divide myself among them. young men who are willing to sell their ser­ But this is a money-making and money-spend­ vices for a livelihood. We shall also see A girl applied a few months ago to a pub­ ing age, and we must swim with the current, woman, living together, making homes and a lisher for work. What he wanted he hardly or be swallowed up by it; and women find social life of their own, not rarely as now, but knew himself, but as they sat and talked she themselves compelled in self-defense to provide often, and with deliberate purpose. Said one sketched it out without knowing it, until he themselves with resources. There are few so who has lived such a life for the last fifteen said, “ That is what I want—go home and put poor but demands are made upon them ; there years: “ It has been ideally happy—our it on paper.” She did, received seven hun­ are few so rich but would be glad to add to troubles have come solely from the outside ; dred and fifty dollars for it, and is now in their income. Thus women are driven to the together we have known nothing but peace. " Europe applying herself to study with this employment of all their ingenuity to make a The Baroness Burdett-Coutts would never have money. little money which they may call their own, thought of marrying had she not lost her The “ home ” women have been at a disad­ and the unexpected success of a few has friend and companion for so many years, Mrs. vantage, because their labor has had no pecu­ stimulated others to effort, until the ranks of Brown. It is something to know and feel that niary value. It is no use to talk nonsense the workers have been ennobled by the addi­ doors are open to women, that a certain amount about the “ sacrifice” of making the love be­ tion of the most illustrious names ; and idlers of freedom is conceded to them, that more tween men and women, and the sacred tie of are almost expelled from society, for those than a certain amount of recognition has been husband and wife, a matter of money, of busi­ who are not obliged to work for themselves awarded to them. But they must be worthy ness, of bargain and sale. Such stuff nowa­ are expected to work for others. When the their future, worthy a great destiny, or such a days has not even the gloss of sentiment to daughter of the prime minister of England destiny cannot in the nature of things wait make it go down. Nothing kills love so quick accepts the post of private secretary to the upon them. The age is above all other things as the unfair position women occupy in rela­ president of the college in which she was industrial ; it will not let any power, any tion to money matters, and the utter discour­ educated, the young women in republican strength, any activity, go to waste, if it will agement that a wife feels who has given her America may well be ashamed of idleness. only make itself seen and felt. Women are youth, her strength, her care, her thought, Besides, it is work after all, and work that heartily welcomed in many fields, and public her daily labor, to her husband and family, pays that brings recognition. A girl may be opinion is with them when they demand an and feels at last that she has done it with­ a belle in her own little circle for a few years. equal chance in others. But they must do out recognition or acknowledgment, that she She may be invited to balls, and ice-cream equal work. They must not apply as mendi­ is only a family drudge, that her husband saloons, and pass over the course on the free cants, or as objects of charity, but as trained holds the purse which contains their joint list, for from perhaps eighteen until she is and independent workers. They must fit them­ savings, and that his possession of it gives twenty-two, or three ; but after this, her place selves, and then try for the higher positions. him the power to rule the household, which is taken. She begins to be neglected, and They should leave the hand labor and sewing- he does with a rod of iron. finds herself left out when the lists are made machine labor for men, whose physical strength This has been the case very largely in the up for sleighing-parties and picnics. But better fits them for it, and prepare and work to­ past, but it is less so in the present, and will the workers never grow old ; men leave the ward the business positions and the professions. keep growing smaller by degrees in the future. young and beautiful to crowd about a woman The noblest example that has ever been set At least one half the women now living earn no longer young and never beautiful, if she in this country is unconsciously given us to­ their own living by working at some regular has done work that arrested their attention, day by one of the finest of our New England occupation, and receiving wages. At least and commanded their respect. poets, who keeps cows and sells milk to his half of the other half “ assist" in sustaining Work immortalizes—every kind of work, neighbors. Yet if he lifts up his voice, a themselves and their families by keeping according to its degree—and excites respect. whole nation and the people of other nations boarders, or renting rooms, o r doing some I have seen an old servant treated with the stand still to listen. Let women who want to work at home that does not expose them to utmost deference by visitors of distinction to do something to earn money, remember this, remark or the imputation of “ working for a the family in which she lived, and there is and not be afraid of anything that is not dis­ living.” Quantities of young women, and un­ scarcely an avocation in which skill and per­ honest or dishonorable. Let ns, above all married women who are no longer young, earn severing industry do not tell in the acquisi­ things, not make work the excuse for being money by painting, by making knick-knacks, tion of reputation, as well as means. Almost less true, less gentle, less modest, less kind, by embroidery or decorative art work, and everything desirable for women is now open less considerate, less refined, less ladies, in many more might, if they were not mere copy­ to women, and as they lose their fears and the fine sense of the word; but add to all the ists, but had ideas of their own, and knew timidity, and take advantage of their oppor­ graces that have distinguished, women in the what was practical, and what was wanted. tunities more and more, marriage will be­ past the courage of conscious ability, trained There is a craze for art curtains, for portieres, come less desirable—much less desirable for and ready for action to give voice to the wo­ for mantel draperies, for lambrequins, for women than for men, and therefore less liable men of the future. 30

L o v e M a t e s H e a r t s Not Ages

BY HENRY FAUNTLEROY.

T h E evening sun shed forth his brightest ray, T H E two together, oft would walk or ride, As if he wished to signal earth good-night; When Kate, in whimsey, hid or played recluse ; That none might maunder at departing day, And in the parlor, whispered low, aside, But see his promise of returning light. Or fond love-songs well served their courtship’s use.

Cye DURLEY caught the sign—his head he raised, T HIS great-souled man began to waste away, Supported by his loving daughter, Grace ; As-hopeless burned the secret of his breast; And long upon the gorgeous pageant gazed, And, while “ ’tis fit and right,” he could but say, As darkening shadows gathered on his face. “ For Grace and Lee he groaned to think the rest.

F O R his sun, too, was racing to his set, " M Y presence,” said he, “ shall not, e’en by thought, No more to shine, to gladden earthly eyes ; M Obtrude across the dear one’s freest love ; But from the night of death, far brighter yet, i’ll flee abroad, to die, that she may naught To rise to morning in eternal skies. E’er know that could to her a sorrow prove.”

C l i f f MURTON knelt, heart-broken, by his side ; S O O N had he all arranged to suit his plan ; From boyhood friends, they’d borne true honor proof His earthly stores on her he loved conferred, For twenty years, in business union tied, Save a small sum, to toll life’s shortening span, Sharing, the while, one peaceful hearth and roof. And buy a spot where he might be interred.

" D E AR Grace,” spoke Durley, “ it is now my end ; T HEN, when Grace came for prayer, ere they begun, I leave you to our Saviour’s promised care. With choking voice, he told her tenderly, And, Murton, pledge me, be the orphan's friend ; Saying that ere the next day’s setting sun, Let her your love, to me so faithful, share.” He would be far away, out on the sea. " As God’s my help,” good Murton sobbing cried, S HE first turned pale, then gasped, then shrieked and cried, " All that you leave I’ll make for her secure ; Oh, why forsake me? take me, take me, too ; And all I have, and life can earn, beside, For naught but death shall tear me from your side ; With love like yours, shall make her welfare sure.” You pledged me your life, mine I pledge to you ! ”

" T h a n k s thanks ! ” spoke Durley, as his hand he grasped. " B U T my dear ward, love you not Edward Lee ? ” " Now, darling Grace, grieve not in sorrow long ; “ No, no,” Grace cried, “ we played the lovers’ part For while your parents are in heaven clasped, Because he loves dear Kate, and hoped through me Think not your joy will do our mem’ries wrong.” To sober her, and make her know her heart.”

" N O W God’s love guard and bless my precious child ! ” " B u t can you mate with twice your years, dear one?” The sun’s last beam across his visage shone ; " Had you but one short year left you to live,” Grace caught his blessing in her kisses wild ; She spoke, while eye and cheek with radiance shone, But all his love, so fond, so true, was gone. “ For that yearns love I would my lifetime give.”

ITH reverent touch, kind Murton lifted Grace ; " O LOVE celestial, beauty, truth divine ! ” W But they in spell of solemn pity knelt, He cried, and strained her madly to his heart; Unthoughtful of a grief-impelled embrace, "O morning love, with burning noon’s to shine, Together drawn by new dependence felt. And make life’s afternoon of heaven seem part! ”

A f t e r fond love had tend’rest tributes paid, S W E E T Kate, who’d come at Grace’s cry, then spoke : The home of Grace was made again to smile; “ Oh, bless you, Grace, for what you now explain ; Gay cousin Kate her arts of witch’ry played, I trifled, till my cruel heart you broke; And young friends strove her sorrow to beguile. Thank God, the good meant me brings you such gain.”

G RACE duly shared in pure joys of the day; UICK Grace flew out, and soon brought Edward in ; Thought first of health and her mind's need of ligh t; Q Kate stood with open arms and flushing face ; But, bed-time, Murton joined, to read and pray, “ Forgive me, Edward, for my wayward sin.” And, bending, take his blessing for the night. His pardon priced love’s kiss, and warm embrace.

" A h ! she gives me,” said he, “ a father’s place "W I T H grateful hearts all knelt to give God thanks ; While she’s the secret idol of my life ; But thoughts so honey-laden, scarce could rise. My all I give, in worship of her face, And pulses thrilled so long with love’s wild pranks, To see some younger man make her his wife.” The morning star waked ere they closed their eyes.

He loved too fondly not to quickly see A FORTNIGHT’S sun sank slowly down the west, How Edward Lee and Grace each other sought, Between fond homes and a ship far at sea, While Kate, her cousin, whom he meant for Lee, That bore abroad four hearts, supremely blest, Appeared to never give the youngster thought. In bonds so sweet they fain would ne’er be free. DEMOREST'S m o n t h l y M A G A Z IN E . 31

SUBURBAN RESIDENCE

The perspective view here shown faces the south-east; the rear portion, showing the kitchen etc., is to the north. A country residence is a house generally sur- j rounded with sufficient land to give importance to two fronts; it is desirable that the interior should be arranged with this object in view, and j also for the general view from the structure. When possible the north-east portion of the build­ ing should be protected with a cluster of trees or shrubbery on rising ground. The accompanying plans give the arrangements j of the first and second doors : The main entrance hall is twelve feet wide, with an inviting stairway, easy of ascent. The parlor is on the north side, and in the rear is the library. The sitting-room and conservatory on the east front; the parlor, library, and hall form a large saloon by opening the sliding doors. The dining­ room has on the north a large dining-room pantry with closets; on the opposite side of passage way is a store-room to dining-room. The bay window to sitting-room affords a fine view to the south, east, or west. The whole house is provided with all modern improvements, hot and cold water, bath, etc.; under the kitchen is the laundry provided with wash tubs, etc. The structure is intended to be built of stone or brick, whichever may be the most desirable in the locality selected; and it will cost from eight to ten thousand dollars, In proportion as the material may be furnished, and the cost of the work in cer­ PLAN OF FIRST STORY. FLAN OF SECOND STORY, tain localities. 33 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

The style of the structure is strong in outline, tion of finely-ground enamel of the color required, hut plain, without any extravagant display of or­ and apply it to the reverse side of the glass. It namentation ; the roofs are also simple in con­ will, however, be as well to fix the painting color struction. The tower affords an agreeable obser­ by firing before doing this, as both the painting vatory in hot weather and sultry nights. pigment and the enamels flux better when fired Reference: color-side up.

F i r s t S t o r y P l a n : Parlor, 18x32. 3. Stains.—Glass staining differs from enameling Library, 12x18. in this: that whereas enamels contain a certain “ The Shadow of Death,” Sitting-room, 18x18. proportion o f fusible glass or flux, and adhere Dining-room, 18x25. only to the surface upon which they are painted, HOLMAN HUNT’S GREAT PICTURE. Kitchen, 17x20. stain contains no flux of any description, but has No. 12—Dining-room Pantry, 7' 6"xl4' 0". within itself the power o f penetrating and colors M e s s r s . A g n e w & So n have brought over to No. 3—Main Hall, 12 feet wide. ing the glass to a certain depth with various fixed this country, and placed on exhibition, Holman Passage, 5 feet wide. colors. The coloring matter of stain is silver, and Hunt’s great work, “ The Shadow of Death.” No. 10—-Office, 8' 6"xl2' 0". although there are nearly a dozen different kinds This is pre-eminently a religious work, not by No. 2—Conservatory. of stain, they all contain as a base this expensive reason of its subject, but by reason of its treat­ No. 9—Store-room, 5' 6"x8 '6". metal. Although silver itself contains the ele­ ment, and as such provokes curious speculation. ments of a stain, all glasses are not susceptible of It is a work for which Taine’s fascinating theory S e c o n d S t o r y P l a n : Nos. 10, 10, .16, 16, Cham­ taking it alike. Some kinds of glass are impossi­ of the milieu fails to account. This is not a religious bers, and average 18x18 feet. ble to stain, while others can be scarcely touched generation. The tendency of thought which char­ The chamber over dining-room is 18x25 feet. with the silver without, on being fired, striking an acterizes this age no future historian will describe A ll spaces marked No. 18 are lobbies. intense orange. Nor does the difference in the as devout in any such sense. Nor does the pecu­ Nos. 17,17, are closets, and are large, averaging glasses end here. In some the stain will pene­ liar form o f religious thought which exists touch 5x6 feet. trate to a considerable depth, while in others it on any side such a work as this. The Son of Man, The Bath-room, etc., is 7' 6"xl4' 6''. will merely lie upon the surface like an enamel. who came eating and drinking, who raised the For further information address Geo. T. Pow ­ This is caused by the variations of the proportions sick, lifte d the fallen, restored the blind, has ell, Architect, 141 Centre Street, New York: of the alkalies in the glass. The amateur, as well forced into pale obscurity the Man of Sorrows ac­ as the professional, before commencing to stain his quainted with grief. The Christ straining down work should make a proof; that is, put a little toward humanity, which finds expression in hos­ Correspondents’ Class. stain on a piece of the same description of glass as pitals, asylums, and practical deeds of benefi­ that which he intends to use, and then fire it. By T h is department is intended exclusively as a means of cence, is the. Christ of our d a y; and Mr. Page’s communication between those who have questions this means he will be enabled to judge o f the effect head, exhibited some years ago in the Academy to ask in regard to art decorative, industrial, or art proper, and those who have information to give to which is possible on that particular kind of glass. of Design, though it pressed somewhat hardly on those seeking it. Questions in regard to literary and Do not introduce too much stain, in small win­ social matters, household, fashions and the like, belong our sensibilities, is, after all, nearer the thought to the department of the Ladies' Club. The “ Class ” dows especially, nor have it too powerful, or the o f the nineteenth century, than the mediaeval must adhere strictly in future to its original purpose.— (Ed.) result w ill be a disagreeable saffron tint to the Saviour crowned with thorns. whole subject, throwing an unpleasant light into Mr. Hunt’s picture is rather an individual ex­ ‘ ‘ A m ateur.”—Baintiny in tar follows the pro­ the room. Avoid also getting it too flat; at the pression brought out of surroundings he has ere- * cess o f “ stieking-up ” in glass painting. The same time do not have its flatness broken by ated for himself. Of all the pre-Raphaelites he process is as follow s: Having a little rectified streaks, and within certain degrees keep it varied has adhered most closely to the traditions. Bot­ spirit o f tar in a glass, grind the painting color in fullness. Never apply stain to any but a clean ticelli never allured him from Fra Angelico, nor with it, being careful not to make it too thin, and surface; it must never be laid on the painting have the pagan glories of the Renaissance ever dis­ then add the least possible portion of fat oil to color. Stain requires grinding well in tar on a turbed his vision. As the early masters he nour­ keep the color open and prevent it drying too slab, scraping up and putting aside into any vessel ishes a single thought, and has bent toward it the rapidly. Now take a flat camel-hair brush, similar kept free from dust, as a stock for future use. purposes of his life, and for its expression reserves to the one used for laying on water mats, but in Before using, stir up the contents to an even con­ the serious study o f years. This is literally true this case termed a wetter, and dipping it lightly in sistence, and simply put it on the back of that from his own account. He states that for sixteen, the tar, apply it to the surface o f the glass it is in­ portion of the painted work which is desired to be years he had the subject In his mind, and six years tended to paint, not using the brush too full, as yellow to about the thickness of a sixpence, mak­ was spent in Palestine recording the most literal the tar is apt to run on the back of the glass and ing sure it does not go beyond the part intended. facts with the most painstaking accuracy. This make the color very difficult to manipulate. It The material with which the stain is mixed should supreme faithfulness, these years of preparation, should be evenly applied, or the painting will be scraped or brushed off the glass after firing. would of themselves demand consideration. From have a very disagreeable appearance. This done, It may be used again for the same purpose. a man of Mr. Hunt’s rank as an artist, such con­ paint, with either a camel or sable hair pencil of a sideration is the more imperative. QUESTIONS. suitable size, the intense shades and half-tones The painting is seven feet high; the scene, a that are represented on the drawing. Let every “Co r . Cl a s s :—1. Should landscapes in oil carpenter’s shop, overlooking the plains of Jez- touch be decisive, in other words, do not put the colors be varnished or only oiled? reel and the mountains of Galilee. Jesus is repre­ color on the glass until its proper position is “ 2. What vehicle is most used in painting in sented at the age of twenty-five. He stands, hav­ decided upon; and by thoroughly entering into oils? D e l l .” ing left his saw in the board, and, with his head the spirit of the subject, the work will when “ Co r . Class :—Will some one please give me thrown back, his lips parted in prayer, extends finished convey that feeling and expression which some hints about oil painting ? his arms. The level rays of the sun, pouriug in are the very life and soul o f art. During the exe­ "1. W hat is the best shadow color for flesh ? the open door, cast his shadow on the wall in the cution of this part of the work, it is imperative “ 2. How is the best way to use mastic varnish form of a cross, of which his tools, hanging above, that there should be an entire freedom from dust, and drying oil, and whether mastic is now con­ make the upper part. Mary, who is kneeling be­ that the color should be well ground, and that the sidered the best varnish for pictures ? fore the ivory casket containing the gifts of the spirit of tar used for the purpose of grinding the “ S e l f - t a u g h t A r t i s t .” Magi, apparently recalling, as a mother might color should be kept clean. Should the color by “ Cor. Cla ss :—Would yon kindly inform me as fondly do, the homage to the infant, sees the. any accident get dirty, or show any sign of seedi­ to the process of firing for china painting, etc. ? shadow. The face is turued away; but her start ness; it is much better at once to throw it away “ R. D a v id .” of emotion is felt at the painful symbol, as if with and mix fresh, as with dirty color it is impossible a sudden premonition. This is the motive of the “Co r . Cl a s s :—1. Please publish best method to paint with any degree of satisfaction. After the Work, and is at once simple and dramatic. The of polishing and painting fresh-water shells. work is painted it must be allowed to stand a few figure of the Christ, which is girded about with a “ 2. Where can the best kind of water-color hours until it is partly dry, when a few high white cloth at the waist, and the slight tension of paints be purchased ? lights may be taken out with the etching tool; the portion bringing into view the anatomy, gives “ 3. How are the colors of pressed flowers and after which, having become thoroughly dry, it may a magnificent opportunity to an artist capable of autumn leaves to be preserved ? M rs. J. B. W .” be taken down from the easel, the wax removed doing justice to it. The figure is superbly drawn, from the edges, and the work itself placed in trays “Cor. Cl a s s :—How is pumice-stone used to and painted at once with boldness and subtlety. to be fired. soften and whiten the hands, and what will The flesh is that of a laboring man, bronzed with 2. Enam eling.—Should any portion o f the work destroy the effect o f chalk on the skin ? It rough­ the climate and tinged with the strong red light require a coat of enamel, such as the flesh of ens the hands terribly as used on the blackboard. o f the setting sun. The face has Jewish traits, the figures, or parts o f the draperies, take a por­ “ Sch o o l-te a c h e r .” but the eyes are b lu e; and the hair, warm and DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 33 brown, falls back from the face. Yet face and to be immortal. Surely, matter was never intend­ to her life. Or, better still, she could have afford­ figure reveal the pre-Raphaelite conceptions of ed to dominate over spirit. ed for her health’s sake, to lose the entire week, Christ, if they could have been expressed by the And yet, you say, we must work. True. But and the price of the whole bonuet—she had technique that delayed some centuries. it is when we make our work subservient to some another quite as good. But the painting does not rest in this simplicity. great end that we elevate it, conquer it, sanctify What would you think of a mother who insisted The canvas is crowded with detail, each asserting it. W e are dignified in laboring only when we that her two little daughters should wear hand­ its historical accuracy or symbolic truth. These rule our endeavors, not when they rule us. So, some sashes, at any cost? I know such a one. do not remain as accessories, but insist ou a prom­ my friend, remember always, that you yourself The girls had very pretty white suits, with fresh inence at war with the accepted canons of art. are greater than what you do. ribbons for their necks and hair, but because they As a consistent pre-Raphaelite, Mr. Hunt contends Then, women all over the land, rouse your­ hadn’t broad waist-ribbons, the mother fretted for the importance of facts rather than for the re­ selves. I care not what your outward circum­ and vexed her soul almost as much as she would lation of facts; for his Christ he studied the models stances are—you have a right to live, and breathe, if they had had no food to eat. So, when their of the tribe of Judah at Bethlehem of Judea. He and grow—the light, the air, the day, are as much school closed, and when they were home for va­ has made a point of his Eastern saw with its pecul­ for you as for any one. Determine, first of all, cation, she suggested that they sew rags for a iar teeth, the Oriental tools, costumes, the green that you will possess your birthright—then, if you carpet-mill and earn the desired trappings. A h ! jar with its aromatic herbs, the carvings and are hungry, provide your mess o f pottage. How stones for bread ! By this means, working early shapes of the gifts of the Magi, of his woods and many know the sweets of perfect liberty ? Ah, I and late, they could have made from a dollar and the shaving which strew the floor. Each of them fear, few. A far greater proportion could truth­ a half to two dollars a week. Then, by sacrificing is wonderfully realized, and as if it were the fully say: weeks of their precious holidays, they might have object o f the painting; no trifle, seemingly, has “ Look how we grovel here below, come out, near the end of the season, with a little been too small for the most painstaking care. Fond of these earthly toys.” more gorgeousness on their backs. But, oh ! on This, it need not be said, detracts from the pictu­ Earthly toys ! Precisely. Silk dresses, and gold the one hand, heat, weariness, toil, perhaps even resqueness and unity of the work. But nothing chains, and new bonnets, and bushels of pretty sickness; on the other, fresh air, gayety, rest, apparently could have been further from the trifles. Beautiful things, I grant, fascinating to health. These things were as nothing to the fool­ artist’s idea than to strive chiefly for pic turesque- every truly feminine mind—well worth possessing ish mother. It is to the credit of the girls that ness and unity. He contented himself rather with if circumstances favor. But how often are these they refused any vanities purchased at such a accuracy and religious enthusiasm. But this last things bought at too dear a price. price. They reveled in the breezes, the fields, is not infectious, and so in its principal aim the I wouldn’t want the handsomest robe ever and the woods. They went walking, boating, and work is a failure. Mr. Hunt feeds himself with woven, if I had to work early and lute in a noisy, picnicking. As to money value, perhaps they tore, symbolism, and uses it in the paintings like argu­ dirty factory, month after month, in order to get soiled and destroyed the worth o f the possible ments in support o f a cause. To the ordinary ob­ it. I wouldn’t wear the most valuable watch ever sashes. But they went back to school healthier, server, this is carried to the limit of absurdity. made, if owning it necessitated a dreary, monoto­ stouter, and better in every way. The star above the head, and the curled shavings nous life behind a counter. Not that I would be The mother did not know it, but the girls did, under foot, are extreme instances of this. too proud to do anything honest for my living— that the world respected them more for their The picture is exhibited by gaslight, which is but are things of this order worth, the sacrifice of course of action. It is an old piece o f wisdom, unsatisfactory, the red light on the figure being leisure, and comfort, and rest, and enjoyment, and that if you cringe to society, it will kick you; if materially strengthened by it, and the tone of the study? Is it worth while to spend days and you rule it, it will serve you. People don’t praise work naturally modified. M. G. H. weeks In grinding, benumbing toil for the sake of those who spend all they have for adornment— a few hours’ gratification of vanity ? such a thing is far too common; hut they do I believe there arc many women who must earn praise those who intelligently strive for the high­ their living, and I honor them for doing so. But est good, and make themselves superior to their I believe there are also a great many who have circumstances. The latter is much too rare. good homes and ought to stay in them, but who Docs it still seem incredible to some of my would rather do outside work for a little more readers that there really are men and women who finery. Them I pity—all the finely in the world live along from day to day, striving for nothing, isn’t worth domestic comfort. hoping for nothing, beyond their present bodily End and Means. But the very same toil may be made little else comfort ? I know there are such. I know a family than a consecration, if undertaken in a different all of whose members above the years of infancy BY MARGARET B. HARVEY. spirit. The woman who works in a factory in or­ not only work, but work hard. And yet, I never der to educate her brother, is a saint; she who saw a dingier, drearier, more unattractive home “W o r k ! work! work!” stands behind a counter so as to obtain means to in the course of all my travels. But they live Well, what for? go to college, belongs to the “ noble army of mar­ upon the fat of the land, frequently spending a Why, because It is our duty. tyrs.” No praise is too high for the young girl whole week’s income upon their Sunday dinner. Simply to work ? who does copying to pay for her piano ; the poor The markets are ransacked, at the earliest possible Yes. teacher, who cuts down her wardrobe in the hope moment, for the costliest delicacies from every Then, why should not every man and every of going to Europe. These all deserve silk dresses clime-—for, you must know, they don’t want any­ woman gather together a pile of stones, and march and gold chains—but, remember, only as inciden­ thing edible at a time when everybody else can around it ten hours every day, for weeks, and tals. They can afford to wait for these until they have it. They can’t afford a picture on the wall, months, and years? Would not that be work? have performed their appointed tasks. or a book on the shelf; they can’t send their And in doing this, would not he or she be doing Work is hard. But I believe most people make children to school beyond the primary—because, bis or her duty ? it very, very much harder than they need—or, in “ W e’re poor—we might want the money for vic­ Ah ! This performance, you say, would be fact, ought. They spend their substance for that tu a ls !” work, and work o f the severest kind, but nothing which satisfieth not, and so are compelled to add Who are more dainty, more economical, more would be accomplished by it. Here is a new idea. to their toil. To illustrate. industrious, more thorough, and, in some senses, W e must work, then, not only because it is proper I know of a woman whose work was in the base­ more happy and contented than the French ? Can for us to work, but because we expect to achieve ment of a large dry goods establishment. In the you guess why? Simply because they live for something as a result of that work. summer her quarters were exceedingly warm, caus­ something. They don’t settle down to any work And yet, how many tread on, from day to day, ing her much discomfort. One day in particular, and say, “ I ’m going to do this all my life.” No, in a routine little more elevated than the one when the thermometer rose above ninety, she indeed! What they look forward to may seem an mentioned, never getting one step further ? How came home nearly fainting. She excited much unworthy end, and to the average American mind many must say that the world and they them­ pity, as well as much annoyance, by her continued it is, but it is ten times better than no end at all. selves are no better off at the end of their toils complainings. But she herself was largely to They work in the hope of being able some day to than at the beginning? Especially, I think, is blame for it all; had she been less extravagant for live in idleness—and all the more merrily for it. this the case with women. her circumstances, she might easily have bettered But a Frenchman docs not neglect pleasure and There is too much sentimentalism about labor. herself. I was especially struck with this fact on culture as he goes along. By no means. He Some o f us have well-nigh forgotten that labor, learning that she had given two dollars for a flower would lose a whole week’s wages rather than not simply as labor, Is a curse, and was first pro­ for her hat, while she only earned a dollar and a spend a day in the park ; he would go without his nounced as such. W e may know this to-day by half a day. That two dollars would more than dinner, but not without the opera. I don’t up­ its disastrous effects upon hand, and back, and have paid a substitute for that time, which she hold French life in all respects, but I do think brain, which were meant to be over youthful; might have spent, out of the stilling heat, and that we might, to advantage, copy some of its upon heart, and mind, and soul, which were meant away off in the breezy woods, and so have added good points. C . - 1 7 34 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

0 friends, is it enough simply to come into the 2 inches at each end. In either case they should Very simple and convenient screens, because world, pass through it, and go out again ? Let have a loop at each end to hang to the support easily washed, to fix to the wall at the back of us be remembered, then, not by our names on our which is generally fixed to the window-frame for washstands, may be made by first nailing to the tomb-stones, but by the amount of useful work this purpose. The bands may also be made of wall a piece of pink (or any other color) glazed that we have done. crash, or, for a bedroom, of dimity, bordered with lining about three-quarters o f a yard wide and the a narrow white cord. A ll should be first lined same length as the washstand. Then take a piece with stiff muslin, and then with silk or soft cot­ of figured net or muslin half as long again as the Articles for Fairs and Bazaars. ton lining. lining, and rather wider, so as to allow for a good Girls like to make their own particular bed and deep hem at the top and bottom : hem the sides As this is the season for these enterprises, we morning rooms pretty. This is to be done with narrowly, and at both top and bottom make a hem offer the following suggestions for articles princi­ blue and white china, brass flowerpots, inkstands, one and a half inches wide, and, at the distance pally home-made, and likely to sell, and which candlesticks, and coal baskets, peacock feather of an inch from the top of each hem, run a line of besides afford an attractive change from the com­ fans, palm leaf fans, photographs and engravings tiny stitches. In each of the spaces thus made mon custom of " buying ” to sell again the ordi­ (framed in oak and velvet), antimacassars of gui­ run a piece of narrow tape and draw it up until of nary goods of ordinary stores. pure d’art, and the like. the width required. Children’s tables may be famished with an Lamp-shades are fashionable and useful. First Quite inexpensive articles, quickly made, are get the shape, which should be cut and re-cut in infinitude o f pretty things. bath slippers, with cork soles, the piece over the paper until it fits the glass. Then you may trace Excellent chatelaines for school-children may instep serge, satin, or flannel, almost entirely hid­ comic designs on silk muslin, or you may paint on be made of brown linen, trimmed with red braid, den by a gladiolus, or a bunch of cherries, or a satin, with fringe for border, or you may arrange or embroidered in crewels, ribbon, velvet, or print. dahlia, or some large flower. No shoemaker Is ferns or dried flowers on silk with thin gum arable. Make first a band for the waist about an inch and required; the sole and the front constitute the This latter work is pretty and novel. a half, then stitch six little flat bands about three- slipper; the edge which comes on the instep is Autumn leaves or ferns arranged on thin 6ilk, quarters of an inch in width, and attach them bound with braid, or a bias band o f the material, and covered with transparent muslin with pinked carefully to one side of the waistband, and to the and is sewn to the sole inside, and turned over. edge, are lovely, and very pretty shades are made other side fasten a small square pocket in such a Most little maidens over three summers old of lace lined with colored silk and edged with manner that when the waistband is worn the wear aprons worked in silk or crewels. These fringe. straps will hang on the left side, and the pocket have the bib cut in one with the skirt, which Hanging receptacles for Christmas cards may be on the right. At the end of each of the straps made as follows: Take a strip of colored card­ slopes slightly at the side toward the waist; must be fastened something necessary for writing, board, 12x5(1/2) inches, cut the upper end into a there are no braces and no back bib. Some are thus a note-book, ink-eraser, pencil, penholder, made in green or grenat satin cloth, and are elab­ point, lay on the lower edge an outer pocket of box o f pens, and a penknife or a ruler, may be cardboard, with flowers upon it 4 inches deep, orately worked with silks; but holland colored substituted for the note-book, and the note-book drill (which is almost everlasting in wear) is more and cut in a point; place another similar pocket placed in the pocket at the side. above, border the whole with gold edging, and generally employed, and very simply ornamented. Bed pockets of holland, embroidered in forget- Above the hem there is a row o f stars in crewels, put a bow and loop at the top to suspend it from. me-nots, and edged with fringe, are pretty, and and worked with—what we have hitherto called Arrange the Christmas cards in these pockets children’s blankets, with just a bunch of cherries Russian embroidery—mere loose stitches. against the wall, and a pretty effect is the result. embroidered in one corner. Dolls dressed as sol­ Wall-baskets like these will be found useful in The large morocco stands intended for three rows diers and fisherwomen, brides and babies, always many parts of the house. Those in the shape of of photographs, twelve in a row, make excellent sell well. a French peasant’s “ hotte,” or basket carried on receptacles for Christmas cards; and cases are Parasol needlebooks are made of a small round the back, will be found handy for many purposes, made on exactly the same plan in crash, embroi­ piece o f silk, edged with fringe or narrow lace, as they are to be had in so many different sizes ; dering a border in silk round each aperture, and in fact, made as much like those at the present the large ones would be useful in a h a ll; those of mounting the whole on cardboard. time as possible, lined through with fine cashmere, a medium size will hold a pot of flowers or trail­ Cards look well arranged on folding screens and divided into sections for the different num­ ing plants, while the small ones make capital re­ mixed with good scraps, and the small wooden bers o f needles; the handle is made of a small ceptacles for spills. screens, which are fashionable now for standing wooden or ivory knitting needle, with a little bow on tables, would be most attractive covered with A useful article for a gentleman is a pocket at the to p ; this is put through the exact center them. There are small Japanese screens now to made in huckaback, to be hung by the dressing- o f the circle, which is then folded to the shape, be had that would be suitable. A good idea is a table for brushes and combs. Take a strip o f the and a tiny elastic and button, or ivory ring added, long strip of satin cloth to hang against the wall, stuff twenty-four inches long, twelve inches broad, slipped up to fasten it. with a succession of pockets, all embroidered with round the ends, and work them over in the loose Knitted and crocheted “ Tam o’ Shanter ” caps birds, butterflies, and daisies. Large bags to place buttonholes, fold in half, and sew the sides to­ in dark blue or cardinal wool, or velvet jockey opera cloaks in at parties sell off very quickly, gether to where the rounding begins. The upper caps, embroidered with forget-me-nots. Pinafore and if orders can be obtained beforehand they side must be worked with large red carnations dresses made of bright gold-colored satin sheet­ should have the monogram in the center. and leaves. ing, embroidered with poppies, cornflowers, and Of course the foundation cloth should be quiet In a hall or gentleman’s room is often required corn, are useful for children. Bonbonnieres al­ in color, gray, or brown, or stone color. a receptacle for hat and clothes brushes, button­ ways give satisfaction, and with a little ingenuity It is a pretty fashion now to have one or two hooks, straps, etc. The most useful basket to "they may be made up at home. Procure some low seats about a drawing-room or boudoir in the hold these odds-and-ends is one of those sold at hamper-like tiny baskets, fill them with candied form of two large square cushions, one upon the all basket-shops for carriage-baskets. As they fruits, chocolate, or sweets, on the top tie a bun­ other. In two colors, such as blue and black, red have flat backs they can be hung to the wall, and dle of straws with a colored ribbon, and a small or black, or, indeed, of any colors to suit the fur­ may be made very ornamental by the addition of fairy-like doll, or a toy hen or monkey resting on niture of the room, they look well. They are firm­ a lining of colored chintz. The lining must be it, or a cheap smelling bottle, or, for a boy, a clasp- ly stuffed with horsehair, and joined together at full, and finished off round the edge by a close knife. right angles, with or without tassels. Colored ruching of the same material. The most attractive method of knitting reins is satin sheeting is a good material to cover them Tidies and mats in tied work are easily made. with scarlet wheeling,working arm rings, the name with, or a pretty dark-flowered cretonne, and then For these a frame is necessary—four pieces of wood o f the little horse on the breast-piece, and orna­ they need not be expensive. These styles are par­ grooved or notched at regular intervals, and ar­ menting with bells. It is rather difficult to meet ticularly good for a morning-room; gold or garnet ranged so as to fasten at the corners into a square, with the bells. Four ounces of scarlet wheeling are is a good color for plain sheeting. larger or smaller as may be desired. On this the required, a pair of bone needles No. 10. Cast on An excellent and inexpensive portiere is made wool or cotton is wound back and forth, an equal 12 stitches, and knit a length of 4(1/4) yards. With a of dark olive oatmeal cloth, faced with a deep number of threads to each skein, and when the piece of rope covered well with list form rings for border of garnet plush, or velveteen outlined square is filled they are tied at the intersections the armholes. Loop one end of the scarlet knit­ with feather stitch in garnet, old-gold, and blue. with a needle and thread. Cutting the work from ting over a ring, and the other end over the other Curtain-bands may be made of blue or crimson the frame leaves a fringe all around. The mat ring, making a neat finish where it joins the reins; cloth, or of satin, embroidered with gold purse may be left flat, or the strands, save one, cut then knit two lengths of 120 rows on needles for silk. The Greek “ key” pattern is one of the across between each knot, in which case it will breast and back; on this work for the front the most effective of all. They may either consist of appear to be formed of fleecy balls strung to­ name of the horse; on the back sew three bells, a plain straight band of from 4 to 6 inches wide gether. The last mode is pretty for tidies. This then three bells on each rein, just below the arm and about 14 inches long, or they may be 6 inches work looks well in bright wools, or in red wools rings. wide in the middle and diminish to the width of and white tidy cotton mixed. Model gardens, lawns, and farms can be con- DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 36 structed easily with, suitable materials. Two feet mered oxidized silver, four-sided, with two elab­ a handle of gold or silver, and a silk cover richly square of stout brown cardboard makes a good orate rustic handles; on each of the sides is a gold embroidered with gold and silver. When the foundation for any of these. The remaining ma­ panel with designs representing the seasons in Emperor of China goes forth to hunt, a part of terials are dried moss, grasses, glue, sand, small repousse. Around the top is twined in bas-relief the attendant ceremonies is for a procession of pebbles, a Swiss chalet, box of sheep, cows, farm a vine with brown berries and tinted leaves. twenty-four men to precede him with umbrellas. buildings, palings, etc. These can all be had at Most tempting salt and mustard jars stand on The early English umbrellas were made of oil the toy-shop. For a lawn, the foundation must be a golden base, and are made of citron-tinted, silk. They were very heavy, and when wet could divided or laid out into grass plots, a hill being satin-finished silver, decorated with marsh mari­ not be opened easily. Silk and gingham covers added, on the top of which the Swiss chalet is golds and cattails, with green gold foliage. superseded those of oil-cloth, and were found mounted, with garden and drive winding up to it. There are also ornamental ginger-jars of oxi­ quite an improvement Alpaca coverings were For grass plats a mixture of dyed and plain dried dized silver and g o ld ; plates, and simulated fine more recent. The frame was at first made of moss is the best, rubbed small, and put on with damask napkins with silver fringe ; jelly jars cov­ whalebone, then of split and dyed cane. As a glu e; the drive and paths are glued and sanded. ered with a napkin tied with a gold cord; a tea- general thing the frames, consisting of ribs and The trees, if not included in the box of palings, caddy of hammered oxidized silver, the lid tied stretchers, are now metallic. A recent improve­ etc., are best made of dried and dyed fairy or down with a gold-fringed silver napkin and gold ment is to make them grooved, which lightens trembling grass or other grasses; these must be cord. the weight. set in little blocks to make them stand. A bit of A new lace pin shows two oars tied together There have been various descriptions of um­ mirror will make a pond or lake, and toy swans with gold cord, and in the center a gold plaque, brellas made, but none have proved as convenient put on it. The hill for the house is best made of upon which is a miniature light-house, and a sea­ as that now in common use. One had the cover­ a block of virgin cork, on which stones and moss bird flying over the waves. ing folded in a hollow stick; another was fitted are glued. Baskets for N e e d le w o r k .—The most deco with a spear; and thirty years ago an umbrella For a farm the fields are well stocked with sheep rative needlework basket is lined with garnet satin had a small heating apparatus set in the handle. and cows, the farming buildings added ; carts and padding beautifully upholstered. Three are tied This was intended for persons with cold hands. straw and haystacks neatly made and fastened on. together back to back, thus offering three fronts The plain twilled silk used for covering um­ Skilled fingers can also make fencing on narrow and three baskets. One is appointed for knitting, brellas is generally imported, while figured para­ strips of wood of short lengths by fastening wire with bags for wool balls and slides for needles ; sol silk is made in this country. The worsted netting or rustic wood on it. A pretty kind can another fo r needlework, with pincushion and bags serge, with a silk border, is imported. The plain be made with long strong hairpins, fastened on for reels of cotton, needle-book, etc., all of which “ English boiled” is largely used by manufac­ 6uch closely, and diagonally crossed. accessories are in the back, leaving the hollow turers, and as it is only in superior qualities, is free for the work itself ; the third is for fancy found lasting and in every respect satisfactory. work. But twilled silk remains in extensive use, and is u Cab in et ” Clocks are a late Paris novelty. A N e w M usic Ro lle r .—Articles o f dress are doubtless the leading article. They are composed of black marble inlaid with presented this season under the most unexpected In the way of color, a choice is afforded between light or red-grained marbles, and take the cabinet disguises. The very pretty “ Marguerite ” balay- black and dark brown of the shade called “ Lon­ form, with recesses for small pieces of china or euses, and an improvement on the common plaited don smoke. This is so dark that, as a manu­ bric-a-brac. The side pieces match the clock. balayeuse, are among the most useful knicknacks; facturer laughingly remarked, “ It is black if a There are others inlaid with exquisitely enam­ they are available in a morocco music roller. black umbrella is desired, or brown if a brown is eled or painted tiles, fine as jewelry, and out­ preferred.” Somewhat lighter browns are seen, lined with gold work. —------but a very dark shade is most stylish. In choos­ Christm as Cards.—The efforts made by pub­ The Use of Umbrellas. ing between a brown and green twill silk, the lishers abroad and at home have brought out some M a n , always inventive, and ever regardful of brown will be the better choice, as it does not marvelous things in the way of Christmas cards. his own comfort, was not long in devising a pro­ fade so readily as the green. S. W. Tilton & Co., have secured the quaintest, tection from the heat and the rain when walking Alpaca umbrellas are now so nicely made that most captivating types of baby faces and figures, abroad. they have come to rival silk; being handsomely and others produce flowers or small landscapes, As early as twelve centuries b .c. umbrellas finished as to handles, and of fine material. They which are startling in their natural beauty. The were in use. This we learn from the bas-reliefs are purchased by fastidious buyers, and, in the greatest novelty issued by Messrs. Marcus Ward & found at Nineveh, on which are carved figures, best styles, are no longer regarded as common. Co., is a set of six folding tryptich cards, illumi­ probably kings, walking under umbrellas, held The best umbrellas are now made with double- nated in the highest style of chromo-lithography, over them by attendants. These umbrellas are woven seams, to allow for the wear. with original songs, composed expressly for this not unlike those of modern times. They arc The handles are made of a variety of materials. purpose. adorned with a flower or ribbon at the top, while Celluloid makes one of the best handles, and is T he N e w Go ld Cr ack le glass is more beau­ linen or silk falls down at the sides and forms a much in use, being strong and pretty. These are tiful than any which made its appearance last sea­ protection. red, blue, imitation tortoise-shell, and black and son. The forms are Oriental, and the designs pure­ In the beginning of the twelfth century, um­ white. Ivory, mother-of-pearl, ebony, coral, and ly natural upon a groundwork of such wonderful brellas were in use in China. They had twenty- even gold are used for making the handles of iridescent color as presents a constant succession eight ribs, and the stick was in two parts, the umbrellas and parasols of an expensive kind. of surprises. lower part being a tube into which the upper part Natural woods are much liked at present for the Christmas P resents in silver for household usd slid, in order to close the umbrella. Greece and making of handles, and, of course, the lightest hammered or repousse work, have acquired the Rome had their umbrellas, the latter being made kind possible are employed. Many are finished highest vogue in the manufacture of rich, solid of leather or skin. in bulb style, but a hook finish is also popular. silver articles, and specimens of both will compare In the seventeenth century we find mention of The same ideas prevail in regard to ivory, which with some of the finest ever executed. The fash­ umbrellas as being used in Italy, Spain, and Por­ divides favor with natural woods. ionable tea sets rest flat on the table, without tugal. Horsemen used them when they rode, by Chinese and Japanese umbrellas and parasols standards of any description; they are very low fastening the handle to their thighs. have ribs and stretchers o f wood, and are covered and broad in shape. A set of this style of five There seems to be some doubt regarding the with varnished paper. They have been, of late, pieces is of satin finish, the silver of moonlike precise time that umbrellas were first introduced used in this country to a limited extent, but they luster, Persian in shape and design, of carved into England. Various authors mention them as can never attain popularity. panels inclosing plumes carved in the most mi­ early as 1616, 1640, and 1664. Yet in the North A writer, in describing a visit to an English um­ nute details. Another tea set, low and fiat, has a British Advertiser it is recorded that the first um­ brella manufactory, says: “ Now we wend our hammered surface, richly decorated with flowers brella appeared in England in 1777, and was car­ way to the cutting room, and sec there the cutters and arabesques. A small tea set—one of the finest ried by John Macdonald, a footman. Another with pattern boards neatly and expeditiously cut­ specimens of repousse work—is covered with writer tells us that they were introduced into ting out gores. Then we repair to the machine flowers worked out with unequaled fidelity to England as early as 1611, from Italy. room, and there in skillful hands we see the gore nature. The literal signification of umbrella is shade- just cut out, gradually assume the shape of an A remarkable specimen of hammered work maker, showing its original use. By degrees it umbrella. Then we notice the finisher, who, in consists of a silver tea set showing a delicate was used for other purposes, such as to keep off an incredibly short space of time, takes a stick, tint of buff, and forming a perfect imitation of the rain, to indicate state and authority in cere­ puts the ferule on, fits the runner, inserts the bamboo; it is called the bamboo set. It contains monial processions, and as •personal adornment. springs, and then a girl quickly fastens the cover seven pieces, including a large kettle. The deco­ In the ceremonious occasions of the present day to the frame, the seams are ironed down, and rations are bamboo leaves and flowers. in India the umbrella plays an important part. then, with a few additions, the umbrella is fin­ A gift for a gentleman is a loving cup of ham- The State umbrella of the princes has ribs of gilt, ished.” 30 DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

" Oh—eie—ur—boo—hoo—hoo! ” This Pruny hated beyond all things. But when­ Thereupon ensued such a bedlam in the kitchen, ever she was very naughty, and he caught her, be that Maum Silvy broke her eggs in to the garbage- always set her at it, with an old cloth and a bottle pall, and upset a cup o f molasses that trailed its of oil. And she invariably came out of the siege, sticky sweetness all over the big old table, drip­ either furious at her close confinement and aching ping down upon the spotless floor. elbows, or completely subdued, as the circum­ “ E f I eber—see—such a disrageious young u n ! ” stances o f the case allowed. To-day, considering she cried in perfect desperation. “ Ye’ll git two herself very lucky at the narrow escape she had slippers now, Prunella Car’lin e! ” she screamed in suffered, she set to work with a series of brisk a higher key. little nods, that started all the various small tails If it could be possible, this piece of information to trembling, keeping time to the rub—rub—robot increased the outcry and noise to such an extent, the small black arms. that the kitchen seemed all squalls, and as if cer­ “ Bex, where In the world Is Prunes f Oh, why Prunes and Prisms. tainly a dozen children were in it, instead o f one. here you are. Goody roe, how I ’ ve looked for “ For pity’s sake! ” cried a voice, coming Into you!” cried somebody dashing in, at sight of the kitchen, followed by a tall boy, whose bright whom, seeing another deliverance beering down BY MARGARET MONEY. dark eyes seemed determined to go to the foun­ upon her, Pruny threw down her old oily rag, and dations of things in general, and this one in par­ bounded forward with a sigh of relief. CH APTER I. ticular— “ what a muss ! ” “ Oh, here I be, Miss Ceey—here I b e ! I ’ll do It “ Muss ’tis well ter c a l l ’t, Mister R e x ! ” cried right smack off, woteber 'tis ! ” PRUNES. Maum Silvy in high dudgeon, diving down into " No you don’t! ” declared Rex, decidedly, “ Ef eber I see de beat o’ i t ! ” the basket for a fresh supply of eggs. “ until you’ve finished this job. Go right straight Old Maum Silvy brought one foot, arrayed in a The howls ceased immediately. back and pick up that greasy old thing, and fly at thick blue stocking and heavy carpet shoe of gen­ “ Oh, Mister Rex! ” cried Pruny, seeing a good- it again, q u ick ! ” erous proportions, down to the floor with such a sized ray of hope at his appearance; and unscrew­ “ I ’ ve scraped an' scraped, till I can't scrape no bang, that Muff, the lazy yellow cat, basking In ing her little black fists out o f her eyes, and wip­ more,” grumbled Pruny, slowly retracing her the genial warmth of the kitchen stove, gave an ing off the torrents of tears on her mangy apron steps. “ Nassy ole thing! ” And she caught her ominous start, and sat straight upright, blinking — “ don’t let her take her old slip to me—don’t I foot and stumbled against the table; but, catch­ out of two astonished green eyes. “ Dat Pruny’ ll It ’s most awful horrid bad— 't is !" ing wildly at the bright cover with one greasy cotch it when she does come home, dat’s all I've “ What have you been doing!” asked Rex, little paw, she recovered her balance and set her­ got to say! Ter be gone an hour jest for a leetle turning on her a keen glance ; " no shamming self sniffling to her task. lasses; an' me a-settin' here, an’ dat gingerbread now, Pruny.” " Well, I’ve got to have her,” cried Cicely, nod­ ter be shook up fer tea! Dar’ll be somethin’ else " I didn't sham! ” said the child, indignantly. ding her head so briskly that the long braid of shook wen I lays my han’s ----- ” “ I dunno wot dat is.” And all her fear depart­ light yellow hair flew out like a pump-handle. The door burst open suddenly, and a small body ing, she commenced on a series o f small chuckles “ So, Rexie, be sweet, and give her up.” staggered in, all out of breath, dragging, with an that would scarcely allow her to hear anything “ Thar, Miss Ceey wants me,” cried Pruny, turn­ extreme show of haste, a big tin pail. further, as she kept time with sundry gyrations of ing smartly around at this reinforcement to her “ Ugh—oh ! oh dear! ” grunted the figure, set­ her body, calculated to express her delight at the hopes. “ So—I go,” she added, looking se­ ting down the pail, when comfortably within the turn affairs had taken. must verely over at Bex, with a most virtuous look in door, and beginning to feel o f its arms— “ Oh, I ’m " I shell be driv to distraction,” cried old Maum her black bead-like eyes. most dead ! I tort I nebber should git here! ” Silvy, glaring at her. " Stop yer whirlin’—can’t “ Take her along, then,” be cried, “ and I wish “ I tort so too! ” said Maum Silvy dryly. “ Take ye ? I ’m so conflutterated now, I can’t tell whether off de kiver.” I ’ve put in salt or sody.” you jo y o f your bargain. Now, Prunes, If you’re not good ! ” He pointed solemnly to the array o f “ It ’s dretful heavy,” said the figure, turning “ I’ll take her off,” said Rex, quickly. " Come little handles. her back on pail, cover, and all, and, with one on, nuisance. You’ll be in the way somewhere-, and kick, she gave a terrible twist that seemed to run it might as well be where Lean get something out “ I ’ ll be jes’ as good,” said Pruny, quickly, up and down her whole body with a delighted of you,” he added, more forcibly than politely. smoothing her old brown apron with dexterous w riggle; and then finished up with a long, restful And picking hold of one of the numerous little pats, “ jes* preeac’ly as Mas’r Bale hisself.” yawn. tails sticking out all over her head, like spokes of | “ W ho! ” said Rex, squaring around with “ Wen I gets my ban’s out o' dis yere ginger­ a wheel, he marched her, without another word, astonishment. bread,” observed Maum Silvy coolly, looking at upstairs to his den, where he kept her, very glad of “ Why, de man In de Bible dal driv de donkey,” her sidewise, “ I ’ll limber ye out a little, an’ gib two evils to choose the least, hard at work polishing said Pruny, perfectly delighted to show that she ye somethin’ to make ye yawn t’other way! ’’ up the brass handles to his cabinet o f curiosities. knew, " H e was awful good,” she added, with a “ Ur—ow ! oh, don’t ! ” cried the most impressive air. “ Now, I tell small object, whirling around in the yer—he was one-ful good, wen that greatest terror. “ Oh, I say, don't! donkey got seat! ” I ’ll take off de kiver—right slap off— “ She means Balaam,” explained I w ill! ” And she skuttled up to the Cicely. " I was reading It to her last cause of all the trouble, and began to Sunday. M erry! what greasy hands, tug wildly with her little stumps of Pruny ! ” as she caught sight o f the nails on the sharp edge. active little digits moving up and “ Wen ye does as I tell ye,” said down, not to the improvement of the Maum Silvy, striding with one swoop long-suffering apron. “ Run down, up to her, and dealing her such a gen­ child, and douse them In the sink.” erous cuff on the little black ear that “ Oh, I can’t,” cried Pruny, twitch- it seemed as if the kitchen rang with ing back at the thought. “ Marm'll the sound, “ it’ll be de best ting fer be after me with her ole slip. She y e! Now do ye let dat kiver alone! ” hain't forgot yit. Don't make me go “ Couldn’t help it,” mumbled Miss Cecy, ’cos de gingerbread ’s Pruny, through her tears, as she done. I smell it.” And she wrin­ backed safely out of reach o f her kled as much of the end of a note mother’s hand—“ couldn’t help it, as she possessed, in the direction nohow—couldn't. It’s most awful long o f the kitchen stairs. down to de store—couldn't. Say, ain't “ Go along and stick ’em over dere somefin I kin do fer ye, mam­ the bath-tub, then,” said Cicely, with my ?” a grimace, “ and I ’ll turn on the “ Ye kin go up stars an’ wait fer faucets. Phew ! how they smell ! ” me,” said Maum Silvy, ambling off “ Whicky ! ” cried Pruny, in high for the egg-basket, “ den you'll see. glee, who decidedly relished the idea Me an’ de slipper’ll want you fer a o f the splashing she saw before her; little spell.” u NOW, DO Y E LET DAT KIVER ALONE! and scudding with rapid footsteps she DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 37

was soon calling, interspersed with many chuckles, “ H e’s asleep,” said Cicely. “ That is, he was, care and oversight which the faithful friend be­ for Cicely to hurry. " The grease was all a-pour- a while ago. Only I ’ve been busy, so I don’t stowed on the children up at the cottage, where in’ off ’ m me,” she'said. know just this very minute, and Jane’s with him.” for many a long year she had worked at her trade “ Don’t shake ’em so,” commanded Cicely, “ Oh, she is,” said the big woman. “ Well, I ’ll of dressmaking with conscientious service for giving her sleeves a twitch to insure attention. go right up then an’ get the mending. Cicely, I their mother before them. They had always “ Stop; you 6ent that water right into my eyes. want you to go home with me.” called her “ Annt Elderkin ” ever since their little Stand still, Pruny.” “ Oh goody! ” exclaimed Pruny, heaving a long baby feet had pattered over the stairs, and wan­ Thereupon, Pruny, with a great show of obedi­ sigh of satisfaction. “ Then we sha’nt have to dered with tyrant wills all through her quaint, old- ence, stood as if petrified, her black arms stuck tote this ole box.” And she glanced with intense fashioned home. For, despite all entreaties, Miss out straight before her as stiff as two sticks oyer scorn at the recumbent desk. Elderkin refused to live anywhere but with a little the bath-tub. Suddenly she gave a great hop, “ I was going over to Fussy’s to write my com­ widow broken down in the same trade, and with and jounced up against Cicely with a lurch that position with her,” explained Cicely; “ but I’d whom, after she had saved up enough earnings to nearly precipitated them both head-over-heels rather go with you, aunty, an’ I ’ll stop an’ tell retire, she took rooms in her friend’s big, old into the tub. her I ’ll come to-morrow.” house, and there with her ancient canary, her par­ “ Ow ! ” she exclaimed. “ De w a te r’s all a- “ W ell,” said Aunt Elderkin briskly, going with rot , and all her household gods and belongings, runnin’ up my sleeve—ow! ” long, even strides down the hall to the nursery she kept watch and ward over the trust bestowed “ You’re the wickedest child!” cried Cicely, door, “ we’ll see to that. Anyway, you must go on her by the gentle mother when dying, “ to look feeling tempted to box the little wooly head, home with me. That's certain sure, an’ I ’ll make after the little ones.” And so, now that Mr. Sey­ “ that ever lived! You’re only doing all this to it all right about Fusena.” mour was off to search after health, and the re­ plague me, when, if I don’t get over to Fussy “ I must see old Rex, ” cried Cecy. And rushing gaining of the fortune he had lost through ill- Hitchcock’s at five o’clock, I might as well stay up the stairs, two steps at a time, she bounced health and poor investments, “ Aunt Elderkin ” at home altogether.” into his den, and surprised that individual, who became guardian angel and everything else com­ “ ’S tru e’s as I live an’ breeve! ” cried Pruny, was fastening his collection of butterflies more bined to watch after the interests of the children with the greatest earnestness, bringing herself securely. left in her charge. straight up with another lurch that sent a gen­ “ I ’m going to AuntElderkin’s,” she said, giving She wouldn’t move up to the big cottage, but erous shower all over the flo or; “ I didn’t mean his head a pat. “ Oh, Rex, what a beauty that big never a day passed without her presence in it at to—I didn’t, Miss Cecy, an’ dat’s de solemn tru f e ! brown fellow is ! ” some period of time between the twenty-four Hope to bust an’ die, ef tain’ t ! ” “ Take care ! ” cried Rex wamingly. “ The hours. " It ’s best for old maids to live, alone,” “ Come on, then! ” said Cicely, reaching down least thing will upset his dignity. So you’re off ? ” she said to all of Mr. Seymour’s entreaties to a towel from the rack. “ There, hurry up and wipe “ Yes,” said Cicely, gazing with fascinated eyes domicile her there during his absence. “ I should your hands d ry; you’ve got to carry over my writ­ at the various specimens of insect life. “ Oh, misery only fight a thousand times a day with that Silvy. ing-desk.” me! there she is culling ! Good bye, Ducksie ! ” Now Silvy’s well enough, an’ she’s been in the “ The old ile ain’ t all off,” said Pruny, investi­ She gave him a loving little hug, which he return­ family I ’m sure as long as I have, but la ! if I was gating her paws critically. “ It’ll spile your nice ed with interest, dropping his favorite butterfly mistress, as I would be if I lived there, me an’ Silvy box, Miss Cecy,” she said, with a longing for to accomplish. would be out about the whole time. No, no, another splashing. “ Take care of yourself, Puck! ” he called after ’taint best. The children can't get sick without “ Let me see,” said Cicely, examining for her­ her. “ Give my respects to the parrot,” but half my knowin’ it, an’ we’re all used to going’ on as self. “ Oh! what a little cheat you are, Prunes! way through the long hall, intent on following we be.” And so there it ended. But the watch­ They’re as dry as punk—come on.” “ Aunt Elderkin’s ” bright green shawl as it was ful, lynx-eyed vigilance that never slept on its “ Is that what you mean when folks get mad ? ” proceeding! down the garden path, Cicely didn’t post remained ! And now the father was to come asked Pruny, following to take the writing-desk, hear, and only stopped to say, as she passed home in just one month! while Cicely armed herself with several books and Pruny reposing in one o f the best hall chairs, “ And now don’t walk quite so fast,” cried Cecy, swung her hat on the top of her head. “ Take the desk up carefully, Prunes, and set it look in g up at a big, white house with green blinds, “ What ? ” said Cicely, absently, “ what are you on the table under the window.” and a sociable looking veranda that ran 'a ll talking about, Pruny ? ” around the house, as much as to say, “ Come right “ You’ll have to be-in a hurry,” observed “ Why, spunk—you said my hands were ' as dry in, everybody!” “ and I’ll run ahead and tell Fussy “ Aunt Elderkin,” when she caught up with her as spunk,’ an’ I ain’t mad one single bit,” said at the corner, and marching on with long, firm and meet you again. O h ! there she is looking Pruny, taking the box and managing to turn it | footsteps, “ for I promised Miss Page to be home out of the window! ” she exclaimed at sight of a upside down and make an inward commotion un- early to-night. She’s a-goin’ out to te a ; and the crop o f dark curls evidently bent over a book. pleasant to the ears. poor soul don’t go visitin’ so often but that she “ For once you hain't got to go scoopin’ in ! ” “ W ell, I am !” exclaimed Cicely, righting it, sets a sight by it.” said Miss Elderkin who, on some accounts, didn’ t “ if you are going to do that. Hold it straight, “ Let me carry your bundle, Aunty,” said altogether approve of this dose intimacy, and so child. I said p unk ! ” Cicely, falling into step and panting, “ Oh, my, wasn’t completely overwhelmed with grief when­ “ O h ! ” said Pruny, looking very wise. “ What­ I ’ m so h o t! Dear me ; seems to me your bag’s ever a chance like the present broke up their ever is it, anyway ? ” fuller than ever,” she added, glancing at the stuffy meeting. “ Now don’t be long in tellin’ her, for “ Oh, something to make firecrackers go off,” a ppendage that dangled comfortably at the good I shall have to go right straight on.” said Cicely, carelessly, and running to the top of friend’ s side. “ I won’t stay but just one teenty minute,” the stairs. “ The boys use it—come, hurry up.” cried Cecy, who above all things liked a walk “ Do you s’pose Mister Rex has got any, now ? ” “ If children will go stubbin’ out nice stockings with her cheery companion, and running under the asked Pruny, clattering after her down the stairs, —like the Dickens! ” observed Miss Elderkin window she called out in a merry voice, “ Fussy! ” churning up the desk frightfully at every step. coolly, while a little smile, like the sunshine over “ I don’t know, I ’m sure,” replied Cicely. “ No, a fresh winter apple, ran across her honest face, “ What ? ” said the girl with the book, and put­ I guess not. Nobody uses it only on Fourth of “ why folks ’ll have to go paradin’ through the ting out her head her face took on an expression July.” streets with big hags on their arms for all that I of great joy. “ Oh, good ! you’ve f in a l l y come! ” “ I ’m a-goin’ to— ” began Pruny. But she never know. Somebody's got to take care of the toes! ” " But I haven’t come,” gasped Cecy, “ at least, got any further; for on opening the big outside “ It’s too bad! ” cried Cecy, shocked at the that is, I can’t stay. I ’ve got to go home with door, both children, without a bit of warning, at the work that she saw in vision popping up its ' Aunt Elderkin,’ so ’ twill be too late when I get ran directly into the arms of a tall, thin woman, I head from all those invisible stockings, and hug­ back to-night, an’ to-morrow----- ” who, with a big work-bag on her arm, looked ging up to “ Aunt Elderkin’s ” portly side, she “ That’s always the way,” complained Fussy as if she had come to stay. ran her hand up under the green shawl, and gave fretfully. “ Oh dear me! ” “ Oh, Aunt Elderkin! ” cried Cicely, giving the her arm, on which hung the bag, a good, faithful " Aunt Elderkin ” was going on rapidly in the old shawl a loving hug, " I ’m so glad you’ve squeeze. “ I will try, dear auntie, I certainly will opposite direction, so Cecy stumbled out her ex­ com e! ” not to wear so many holes in mine this week. cuses and her sorrow, and raced after her with all Pruny gave a little crow of delight, and dumped You shan’t have to put out your eyes any more,” her might and main. down the desk, regardless of the nature o f the “ Aunt Elderkin” smiled kindly, and retained “ Oh, dear,” she sighed, coming up at last, resting place. her composure of feelings, having heard the same " Fussy is so disappointed, and I’ m so sorry ! ” “ Where’s Putkins ?” asked the big woman, statement on an average once a week since taking " I should do my compositions at home,” ob­ turning a pair of gray eyes down on them, in charge of the mending department over at “ the served Miss Elderkin, sententiously “ I don't which such a sturdy, kind light shone, that it Seymours.-” believe in girls racin’ round an’ carryin’ their seemed as If a bright little ray of sunshine skipped For this “ mending department ” had grown books, pretendin’ they’ re gettin' their lessons. right into their hearts. until it assumed huge proportions in the kindly You’d do better at home without that Hitchcock 38 DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. girl gallivantin’ round. Well, here we arc! " filled table, where the steam from fragrant tea and And she turned in at a little square garden, up Joe’s Exaggeration Cured. pudding arose like a cloud of incense. “ Draw through a box-bordered path that led up to a big. up, draw up, we’ll finish our talk after supper.” flat door stone, above which was an old-fashioned “ Yis,” said Aunt Hepsy, looking around, as BY M. S. green door with brass knocker, that surmounted she was bending over Joe, whom she had forced a modest little sign that read, “ Mrs. Page, dress­ on to a wooden stool up against the wall, for sur­ gical treatment. “ You set down an’ help your­ maker and repairer.” “ Te n acres are enough," said Joe’s father to selves, I'v e got to attend to this boy.” “ I ’ m here, Mrs. Page,” she announced, putting Fanner Sampson. her head into the first door on the right of the “ They’re too much ! ” grumbled Joe, stumbling “ What’s the matter ? ” asked Mr. Bennett, help­ little entry, while Cicely, with the freedom of an into the door, with a big basket on his arm. ing his friend to a generous portion of the pudding, old visitor, skipped up the broad, quaint staircase “ Whickets! I ’ll have to stamp all night to get and a hot roasted potato, “ what’s happened to him?” * to Aunt Elderkin’s rooms above, “ so you can go ’em w arm !” And he set up such a vigorous “ Oh, he’s froze his feet,” said Aunt Hepsy as soon as you’ve a mind to.” And then she leis­ pounding with his boot-heels on the old wooden quietly, pouring on a generous quantity of liniment urely mounted the stairs to find Cecy hobnobbing floor, that the cat flew oil in a trice and took of the slipperiest kind, to a wad of cotton-wool, with Poll, who was hanging on his roost, unusual­ refuge behind the stove. which she then clapped on to the squirming toes in ly glum and forlorn from his mistress’s absence. “ I f you can’t come into a room like decent front of her; “ there, hold s till! an* of course they “ I do think Poll grows cross, don’ t you. Aunt folks, Joe Bennett,” said Aunt Hepsy, setting must be doctored.” Elderkm ? ” said Cicely, throwing off her hat on down a big steaming dish of hasty pudding on “ I h a in 't! ” came in a perfect roar from behind the big, roomy old sofa. “ Oh, isn’t it nice to get the supper table with a bang, “ you needn’t Aunt Hepsy's big figure, “ oh, I h a in 't! an’ she’s a- here again! ” she cried, in the greatest satisfac­ come in at all. You can stay out all n igh t! Come tying ’em up so I can’t step. Make her git away,do! " tion—a remark that never lost its power from the Isaac, supper is ready.” fact of its being made on each successive visit. “ Can’t help it,” grumbled Joe, going behind “ He said so,” remarked Aunt Hepsy grimly, “ Um—maybe,” said Miss Elderkin, replying to the stove to give the cat a kick as a relief for his proceeding to tie on another wad to the remain­ the question. Then she stopped abruptly in the feelings. “ When a feller’s toes are froze, it’s time ing five toes, “ and of course he ought to know. middle of the room, and looked a moment at to bang. An’ mine are stiff as ice—they are! ” I sent him down to W idow Snell’s with a basket Cicely. “ Are your toes froze?” asked Aunt Hepsy, of apples, an’ he’s come back, an’ says his toes are “ Don’t you want to know what I’ve brought anxiously pausing as she was about to take her frozy. Poor boy! Th ere, hold up your other foot! ” you home for ? ” she asked suddenly. place at the head of the table ; and turning away “ What, just over to Mrs. Snell’s ? ” said Farmer “ Why, to carry back a bundle, p’raps—or—I from pudding and supper and all, she peered over Burgess, setting down his tea-cup in astonish­ don’t know,” said Cecy, with a merry little laugh. her spectacles at him, while she mentally ran over ment, “ why, that ain’t but a quarter of a mile ! ” “ Oh, Poll, you idiot! ” for Poll, being under the various remedies, out of which to select. “ Poor “ I know it,” said Aunt Hepsy, “ but ’twas an delusion that his face needed a constant washing, boy, pull off your boots now, quick, and let’s errant, you see, so ’twas pooty dangerous.” was going through all the movements with clum­ see! ” “ Yes,” said Mr. Bennett, turning back to his sy solemnity. “ They ain’t exactly froze,” said Joe, beginning supper with a relish, “ I ’ve noticed he’s always “ You’re to stay all night,” announced Miss El­ to wish he’d kept still, and looking at the supper- havin’ things happen on his errands. Ha, ha, h a! derkin, with no change of manner ; “ an’ I brought table longingly. “ They won’t be if I can have Tie ’em up tight, sister, an’ if you want me to along your nightgown,” and she unrolled the par­ something to eat, but I thought I sh’d die a- help, I ’ll come.” cel, shaking out the contents on the gay patched luggin’ that old basket, anyway. Now I ’m goin’ “ I can get along,” said Aunt Hepsy, surveying bed-quilt. to have my supper! ” And he began to prance to with great satisfaction the two woolly heaps stuck “ Am I? ” cried Cicely, hopping up and down in the table with a satisfied grin. out from the ends o f Joe’ s miserable little legs. great delight. “ Oh, what fq n ! Poll, I ’m going “ You said they was froze,” said Aunt Hepsy “ There, now, they’ll feel better soon.” And she to stay over-night ! ” she cried, flying up to the decidedly, and turning from the little old medi­ got up, and gave a long stretch, gathered up her cage with the important announcement. . cine closet in the comer, she sent a gleam from liniment bottle and cotton-wool, then looked at Miss Elderkin followed her, and taking hold of her sharp black eyes not to be misunderstood, him. “ Let me see,” she said, “ sick folks must both of her shoulders, turned her around, and “ an’ they must be froze. Now, Joe Bennett, do have sick food, so I ’ll get you some toast and tea.” gazed down into the big blue eyes. you off with them boots, an’ don’t you let me “ I don’t want no toast an’ tea! ” screamed “ I ’ve got something to tell you,” she said quiet­ have to tell you twice! ” Joe in perfect despair, and digging both sets o f ly, “ an’ I could do it better here than up there,” “ Oh, dear,” whimpered Joe, tumbling back knuckles into his eyes, he gave vent to a dismal indicating with her thumb the cottage. “ Cicely, from the table, “ they ain’t froze, they never was roar o f sad disappointment. “ I want puddin’ an’ you’re a big girl now, almost twelve years old, an* froze, oh, dear, dear! Do lemme have some sup­ molasses an’ quince sauce an'—an’ pie, oh, dear! I must take disappointment when it comes, so’s to per ! I never’ll say it again; I won’t ! ’’ never’ll tell again when anything's froze! ” comfort Rex.” “ That’s just what you’ve told me a thousand “ I wouldn’t,” said Aunt Hepsy quietly slipping “ Yes’m,” said Cecy, standing quite still, and times,” said Aunt Hepsy coolly, coming up to him a cup of tea under the tearful eyes, “ at least, looking up into the kind, sturdy face, with its with a roll of cotton-wool, and a bottle of lini­ not until it was." keen eyes. Her heart went down, down, with a ment in her hand. vague feeling of dread of, she knew not what. She “ An’ I’ve told was only conscious that Poll was croaking out you just as many “ Good-night, good-night,” thereby stimulating times that I ’d stop the ancient canary, whose singing days were de­ it some way, this cidedly over, but who still fancied himself one of rushing in an’ the most charming of warblers, to attempt an scarin’ mo to evening song. death days, a-say- “ I had a letter from your pa this afternoon,” in’ you’re dyin’, Aunt Elderkin was saying, and her voice sounded an’ half killed, about a mile off, “ an’ he ain’t as well, an’ has an’ all that, now concluded not to come home at present. ” then! ” Down went 'Cicely from underneath the kind “ W h a t’s the hands, into a little heap of disappointed misery on fuss ? ” asked Mr. the floor. Not coming! when they were just as Bennett, attract­ sure of it as that they were alive. ed by the noise; “ He s h a ll!" cried Cicely passionately. “ W e and turning away can't wait any longer! Oh—oh—oh ! " from the fascinat­ ing conversation “ And that,” said Aunt Elderkin gently but firm­ of farm-lands, ly, “ is just what you must do, child, to show the meadows, and others that you can wait, if the Lord says so. sheep-lots, etc. Can't ? Them four letters never come into any­ “ Oh, Mr. Bur­ body’s life until they spell ’em there themselves! that's sure as gospel.” gess, supper’ s ready,” as his eye (To be Continued.) fell on the well- " OH, D EAR ! I NEVER'LL t e l l a g a i n w h e n a n y t h i n g 's FROZE I DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 39

intervals, and the player scores as many points as New Toys and Games. the spots on the upper side of the dice amount to. Solution to Rebus Enigma in G r e a t skill has been displayed in making the A novel folding perambulator has been invent­ December. new building blocks. They are entirely new. ed. It is a nursery chair mounted on four wheels, Many buildings of ancient and modern architec­ and so arranged that it can be folded up when not On e little blackbird sang two little notes, ture can be made with them. in use, or for transportation. In this perambulat­ And the jay-birds and thrushes took up the The new iron Rapid Transit Train is an inde­ or a small child can be safely placed, and while it refrain: structible and clever toy. The Ponyfore is an im­ is playing with its toys on the little table in front, Now three little frogs, far out in the pond, provement on the hobbyhorse stick heretofore it can be wheeled about. An improvement in the Croaked the two little notes again and again. used by the little fellows. It is a smooth, long handles and tops of baby carriages is noteworthy. Of the word that you search for we can show but stick, with a wheel on one end, and a horse’s The handles are reversible, and can be easily at­ a section, head, with flowing mane and bridle, on the other. tached to the front or rear of the carriage. The Add the two little notes, ’tis a term of affection. A large box, filled with sea sand, witn shovels, tops are nearly square, like those of buggies, and Two notes Do, Ra. Section of word A BLE. buckets and tin molds, is a new toy called “ The have rubber curtains that can be let down. Beach Brought to Your Door.” The sand is dean English rag dolls are homely but durable—an Word, “ Adoroble.” and will not hurt the nursery carpet, should it be excellent purchase for a very small child. Rub­ 1 “ lit ” tle black bird sang 2 “ lit ” tle notes, spilled in playing; but careful mothers may spread ber has advanced thirty per cent., and rubber dolls And T “ H E ” J birds and th-rushes 2 cup the re­ and toys are correspondingly dear. However, the a crumb-cloth down while the play beach is in frain ; dollies are prettier than ever, which is some com­ use. Now 3 “ lit” tle frogs fa r out “ in the pond” pensation. Baskets are shown filled with tiny A new and elegant toy is the Floating Palace— crow ked dolls, all dressed, and a pretty wicker cradle con­ a handsome double-decked saloon steamboat, The 2 “ lit ” tle notes egg ain & egg a in. tains a small bisque doll and her outfit. Inde­ made in imitation of the sound and river steam­ Of t he word T HAT U search for structible heads, with hair of sheep’s wool, are boats, each with a promenade deck, steam- We can show but a section A BLE, very durable, and are a good purchase for careless whistles, smoke-stacks, a walking-beam, and a Add t he 2 “ lit” tle notes, ’tis a term of affection. rudder by which the boat can be guided in any children. Many pretty dolls are dressed as chil­ direction. It can be used both in the water and dren in their first short clothes, with yoke slip of (Term of affection, adorable) A DO, RA, BLE. on a smooth floor. sheer cambric. Sliced Jingles are made of thin pieces of paste­ Japanese dolls board, which, when joined together, form beauti­ are hideous, fully-colored pictures of different objects, with but meet with acrostic verses in illuminated text. Each box con­ ready sale. tains a large assortment of subjects. This game is intended to enlist the interest of the children, Solution to and at the same time teach them. I llu s t r a t ED The Unique Building Cards form another toy. Rebus in D E- Slots are cut in each card, and they can be joined C E M B E R .— together so as to form several buildings. The Face the world Gold Digger’s Cabin is made of logs of wood. It without fear. can be taken apart and placed on a small wagon that belongs with it, and in front of which are hitched a yoke of oxen. A Band Wagon is gor­ One Way of geously painted in red and gold. In front of it Putting it.— are eight horses gayly caparisoned, and in it are “ Sam,” said fifteen musicians dressed in showy uniforms. one little ur­ A pretty toy is the Circus. It is made of an up­ chin to anoth­ right with several arms, to each of which is sus­ er, “ Sam, does pended the carved figure of an animal of some your school­ kind. On the horses are clowns, acrobats, and master give lady riders, that can be placed in many positions. you any reward Overhead are monkeys swinging in rings, and of merit ? ” — men performing on trapezes and the horizontal “ I s’posc he bar. A small crank keeps the whole arrangement does,” was the in motion, and presents a very amusing spectacle. reply; “ he Very popular toys are the new Drawing-Room gives me a Coaches and Locomotive. They are made in two lickin reg’ lar qualities, one being plainer and cheaper, and con­ every day, and sists of a locomotive and one coach, and the other says I merit a train of one locomotive and two coaches. The two.” coaches are handsomely painted, and are supplied with brakes, platform, rails, steps, ventilators, Peculiar, and all other attachments that belong to the real rather than drawing-room coaches. Flattering. — There are many musical toys from Japan. Some Papa to Mabel, curious whistles when blown cause a figure of a who has been man to rotate and a drum to beat. The exquisite to a juvenile precision of Japanese work is best illustrated by party: “ Did the female Blondin, a fiat cardboard figure, which, any one pay with a balancing pole in hand, passes slowly up you any atten­ and down a rope attached to a wooden stand. tions, Mab?” The magnetic toys, like most that come from — Mabel; “ I- Japan, are unique. A beautiful little box of birds don’t know.” are made so that each bird can be raised with a mag­ — Papa; “ I net by its head only, and a snake poised on a pil­ mean did any lar, when faced by the magnet, turns deliberately one talk to away from the snail and after the frog, and fishes you or dance placed in water are caught by a magnetic hook. with you ? ” — Anew out-door game recently patented is called Mabel: “ Well, Lawnette. Its principles are, in some respects, there was a lit­ similar to croquet. It is played with mallets, tle boy who balls, and huge wooden dice, that are to be struck made faces at by the player’s ball at certain correct and stated me.” , REBUS ENIGMA—SOLUTION IN OUR NEXT 40 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

Texts. W ork a text on cloth pr serge in crewel wool, or with cloth appliqued, or the letters cut out and laid on cloth or velvet, and covered with horizon­ tal lines of gold silk, or covered with white plush. Finish the edge with a wreath of artificial roses and leaves.

Slipper Case. Cut two pieces of cardboard the size desired; cover them with momie cloth. Then cut of card­ board a smaller piece for the pocket; cover it on one side with the cloth, and fasten it in the center of one of the large pieces; then finish where it is joined with a worsted cord. Overhand the two large pieces together, and sew the cord all around the edge. To hang it, sew two large brass rings Child’s Lunch Basket. at the back o f the two top-side scallops. Paper Weight. T ake any shaped basket desired; lay a piece of Cut six pieces of cardboard, four inches long paper on the outside and cut a pattern off i t ; then and two w id e; cover them with silk, and button­ cut of dark blue cloth, and transfer cretonne flow­ hole-stitch the edges and overhand them together; ers by buttonhole stitching the edges. Fasten the then cut a piece to fit for a bottom ; cover that cloth on the basket, and finish the edges with a also, and fasten to the sections. Then fill the box full ruching of satin ribbon. The handle has half full with white sand, and on the top put loops o f the ribbon on the upper side, and finished curled hair. Next, cut of velvet, six diamond­ at the sides with full bows. Through the center shaped pieces like pattern, sew them together, and o f the plaited ribbon sew a fine gilt cord.

MONOGRAM— W. T.

Stuffed Animals. I n the present day everything, from soup-tn- reens to walking-sticks, seems to be hung on the walls. I f one is fond of game, have them stuffed and hung in a bunch, to look as though just killed. If hung in a sitting-room a background of velvet or cloth, red, blue or green, would im­ prove it. Large skins, simply nailed up, are ef­ fective ; but if hung in a room it should be large and airy, and be sure that the skin is well stretched. Cabinet and Bookcase Doors. M a n y cabinets having plain glass doors, with plaited silk behind, we would suggest, for a nov­ elty, to substitute fern leaves, glued against the inside of the glass in a pretty design, and back of that a very common looking-glass or swiss muslin. Piano Fronts. Remove the fretwork in the front of an upright piano, and in its place put a piece of satin, on which is painted, in water-colors, a trail of Vir­ ginia creeper leaves, or a large branch of wild roses and leaves. Cretonne figures, fastened on Handkerchief Bag. black velvet, or cloth, are very effective. buttonhole-stitch the points. For the handle take a brass ring and crochet over it with floss, Ta k e eleven inches of twenty-two inch satin, lay and fasten it to the center of top with a large the two selvages together, and cut a half round. Sea-weed Lamp-shades. fancy bead between. Drawn the cover tightly over Then lay the two straight edges together and W it h a little care the most fragile sea-weed may the top of the box, and sew it firmly between each sew. Turn in the round edge one and a half be attached to silk or tulle with china cement, and point. The tassels ate the same color as the floss inches, run it twice, and put in the drawing cord it will make charming hand-screens or shades for used to buttonhole with. I f the cover fits nicely or ribbon. Finish the point with a heavy tassel. lamps. the top is used as a pin-cushion. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE 41

The president is Mrs. Wm. G. Choate, the sec­ Mrs- M. L. Nichols, the granddaughter of Nicho­ W h at Women are Doing. retaries, Mrs. C. R. Agnew, and Mrs. F. B. Thur­ las Longworth, is an enthusiastic worker in dec­ “ Jack and J ill” is the title of Hiss Louise Al- ber, treasurer, Mrs. E. A. Packer. About one orative art, and has day after day, for a year past, cott’s latest work. thousand eight hundred names are on their books, busied herself in clay and colors at a Cincinnati The Sister of Keats has been pensioned from of women formerly well off, who now need means pottery. She has made many beautiful and origi­ the Royal Bounty Fund at the suggestion of Lord of support, and many of these are wholly depend­ nal vases, and has accumulated a comfortable Houghton. ent on the returns furnished by the society, which sum from the sale of them. Mrs. Nichols now has done an admirable work in developing practi­ intends to have a pottery of her own In which to Mrs. Mary J. R Newton was elected a school cal industries. try divers experiments in decoration. Mr. Joseph trustee of Long Island City, the only Republican Longworth has purchased a building near the A Number of Women in Salt Lake City, Gentile elected to any office. river bank in Fulton for the use of his daughter. and Mormon, have organized themselves into an Mrs- Louise Chandler Moulton has written a Here the pottery will be located, and a kiln is anti-polygamy society, and started a paper called third volume of “ Bedtime Stories,” which Rob­ already in process o f erection. She has asso­ the Anti-Polygamy Standard for the futherance erts Brothers will soon issue. ciated E. P. Cranch, Esq., a warm friend to her of their object, which is “ To plan and execute Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement is revising and since her childhood, with her. in the business, and such measures as shall, in the judgment of its bringing down to the present time “ Spooner’s will be ready to begin practical work some time members, tend to suppress polygamy in Utah and Dictionary of the Fine Arts.” next month. Mr. Cranch, who is more than a other Territories of the United States.” Mrs. A. Miss Minei Tabu, a young Japanese lady of six­ clever artist, will aid her in making designs, and G. Paddock is the secretary of the society, Mrs. teen, daughter of an official in the Emperor’s will also conduct the business transactions of the Froisette the editor of the paper, which deserves household, has arrived in the East from San Fran­ firm. A s we understand it, the new pottery will success, and which all women who can arc re­ cisco. She is a graduate of the English school in not be a dilettante concern, but a regular, out- quested to assist by subscribing the one dollar Tokio, and will remain three years in America to and-out, practical, enterprising pottery, only con­ which is the subscription price. perfect her education. She is a poet and a land­ trolled by one who is not dependent on its returns scape painter. Miss Annie B Irish has been elected lecturer on for a living, and who can consequently work to Miss Margaret Hicks, a recent graduate in ar­ modem literature in the University of Wooster, her heart’s content in improving the quality and chitecture from Cornell University, is, we believe, Ohio. This appointment is made, having in view styles of domestic ceramics. the first woman in this country to undertake a pro­ the permanent connection of Miss Irish with this In a paper read before the “ Church and Stage fession in which there is no reason whatever why institution in some one of its chairs of languages Guild ” in London, Miss Ella Dietz remarked: a woman should not succeed. The American A r­ so soon as she shall have completed her engage­ “ That spirit of Puritanism is fatal which discards chitect has published portions of Miss Hicks’s grad­ ments in Washington. 8he has been in charge of all art because art has occasionally been used for uating thesis oil “ Tenement houses.” the foreign correspondence of the Interior Depart­ evil purposes. Moreover, nothing can be worse Madame Delsarte, widow of the famous teacher ment, during this administration, as the trans­ for dramatic art than that people should go to it of the “ Art of Expression,” is living in Paris. lator, and has recently been engaged, in addition, with the feeling that it is a stolen pleasure, some­ She has supported herself by keeping a boarding upon the very important work of classification of thing of which they ought to be ashamed : people school since her husband’s death. Her two the library. who can only go the theater in that spirit had daughters are teachers ; one of music, the other of The Women’s Congress, which met in Boston on better stay away, for they dishonor themselves, drawing. Madelaine Delsarte is said to be very the 13th, 14th, and 15th of October, was a great the art, and the artists by such thoughts. There­ beautiful. Her pictures are now attracting atten­ success, and elected the following officers for the fore I say to the clergymen, members of this tion at the Salon, and she bids fair to become ensuing year: President, Mrs. Julia Ward H ow e; guild, who do honor this noble art in their hearts, famous as an artist. vice-presidents, Abby W. May, and eighteen and have the courage to prove it by their words Miss Florence C. Perkins and Miss Emma Per­ others; secretary, Mrs. Kate Gannett Wells; treas­ and deeds, I f you wish to help us to elevate it, try kins are teaching in the High School at Cleveland, urer, Henrietta L. S. W olcott; auditors, Eliza- and inculcate a spirit of reverence in your congre­ Ohio, at good salaries. Both of these young ladies beth K. Churchill, E. M. O’Connor; directors, gations, both for the art and those who devote graduated at Vassar Collage as valedictorians, Sophia C. Hoffman, N.S.; Alice C. Fletcher, their lives to the service of it; and if you criti­ both believe in woman suffrage, and both are Anna C. Brackett; Phoebe M. Kendall, Mary J. cise, let it be with discrimination and wisdom, and deeply interested in the temperance and other re­ Safford, M. D., Mary A. Livermore, Mary F. East­ not so much from the point of view as to how the forms. They are the daughters of Rev. Sarah M. man, Lita Barney Sayles, Ruth Denison, Henrietta play affects you as how it is likely to affect the Perkins, and early imbibed, in an intelligent and W. Johnson, Augusta Cooper Bristol, M. Louise great mass of the people whom it ought to bene­ happy home, the principles of freedom and phil­ Thomas, Rachel J. Bodly, M.D., Kate Newell fit.” anthropy. Doggett, Ellen Mitchell, Caroline M. Brown, E. A Woman’s W ill.—The will of Mrs. Maria Child Mrs. C- A. Plimpton of Cincinnati, the wife of Mont McRae, Mary Wright Thompson, Clara M. makes the following bequests: the assistant editor of the Cincinnati Commercial, Holmes, Margaret V. Longley, F. H. Mason, To Hampton Agricultural* College in Virginia, has made some ceramic discoveries of importance Sarah Berger Steams, M. E. B. Lynde, Ella A. under General Armstrong’s care, $2,000. “ Said in the art world. Mrs. Plimpton is an artist, Giles, Caroline M. Severance. sum is never to be used for any species of theo­ whose years of study in Europe and natural talent The Energy and Vitality of the Baroness logical teaching.” have combined to give her fine power in oils and Coutts are extraordinary. When she is well she For the elevation of the character of women, water colors. It is the same truth of outline and defeats her age by a dozen years. She is a good and the enlargement o f their sphere o f action, delicate touch that she has brought to ceramic dec­ horsewoman and is still fond of exercise, and she $1,000, to be used in such manner as Colonel Hig­ oration, in a new and original style, by a combin­ walks with an elasticity which many a younger ginson and Mrs. Livermore may direct. ation of clays in lieu of paints. The results are woman might envy. Her capacity for business To the Free Religious Association, $1,000. “ I unique and beautiful. has long been known, and though her benevolence do this to express my cordial sympathy with those The Sister of a Singer.—Miss Matilda Phillips, is boundless, no begging impostor could ever who are trying to melt away sectarian barriers the sister of the incomparable Adelaide, has been i hope to outwit her. She has all the shrewdness which so balefully divide the human family, singing with the Tagliapetra Opera Company in of the Charity Organization Society, without the whether they exist between the different sects o f the British Provinces. Her success has been callous cynicism which makes that body nothing Christians, or between the different religions of signal. The newspapers are filled with praises more than a system of police. Her knowledge of the world.” If that “ Association ” has ceased of her noble voice, her spirited acting, and her politics and politicians extends over half a century, to exist, Colonel Higginson and W illiam J. Potter complete mastery of the most difficult music. and as she can write as well as speak with no little are to use this sum for the same object. The younger Miss Phillips promises to run an grace and force, a book of her recollections should To the home for old colored women, $1,000. artistic career as brilliant as that of her better have greater interest than anything of the kind To the town library of Wayland, $100. known sister, who has more friends and admirers, which has been published for many years. It is a After the death of one of her legatees she perhaps, than any other of our native singers. melancholy crisis in the career of a woman like leaves: The Woman’s Exchange for woman’s work has this, whose unblemished life and magnificent ben­ To A bby W . May, for the education of destitute succeeded so well that it has enlarged its premises, efactions have made her name a household word, Protestant children, $1,000. by taking a whole house, and dividing its business when a matter which concerns her happiness is To the Consumptives’ Home, $1,000. up into departments. Canned fruits, jellies, and the subject of ribald mockery to every chattering To the Society for the Prevention to Cruelty to home-made provisions occupy the basement floor, slanderer, who, to use the strong language of Animals, $1,000. the art-decorative work, the ground-floor, and the Macaulay, has “ a front of brass and tongue set on To Quaker schools for the education of the In­ clothing, and articles sent to be disposed of, the fire o f ” —well, a place which one would not dians, $1,000. floor above. choose for a summer retreat. To the Homoeopathic Hospital in Boston, $2,000. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

us all. Some one has said that if we could save months ago. This picture has been a long time our worries with our letters for three weeks before in preparation, is costly, and executed in the very answering, we should find that few of them need­ best style; it is alone worth much more than the ed attention at the expiration of that time. And price of the Magazine. this view was met by the experience of a lady not long since, who received a disagreeable letter, which was so long she could not find time to read New Year’s Customs. it, and did not for three or four days, for she was The one that is most characteristic, most truly a very busy woman, indeed. In fact, before hav­ American, is the old Knickerbocker custom of ing read it, she received another, retracting and making calls upon New Year’s Day, and it is to The New Year* apologizing for much that the first letter con­ be hoped that it will be long continued by those The approach of the New Year brings a very tained. The first one, therefore, she put in the who care to encourage and sustain whatever is different train of thoughts, feelings, and emotions fire, and never read at all. A great many of our distinctly national and characteristic among us. to the old than to the young, or those who are on troubles might be got rid of in the same way, or It is true that this custom belongs to a time when the edge of middle life, but still full of bounding better yet, we might never know we were in dan­ making calls had not become a daily business, life and activity. To the young, whatever is new ger of them, if they were not brought to us so pursued for want of other occupation by men and is full of hope, and the future is one vast store­ hurriedly and impetuously. women of leisure. It is true that it belongs to a house of great possibilities, of which no one knows Well, the New Year is a good time to make a time when men were too busy to do much visiting, how many may be garnered up in the year upon new departure in many ways, and one of these is and gladly seized this annual opportunity of look­ which they are entering. the avoidance of debt. The brightness of the ing up old friends, and especially the busy wives Mere possession has little or no charm for the New Year is obscured for those who arc besieged and mothers they had known as girls, and recalling young; they care little for what they have in hand, by bills, and beset by fears of not making both and recounting the scenes and events of their youth. because everything is prospectively theirs, and ends meet. It is a moral degradation. It makes a This annual brightening of the links of old what they have not is the thing they most covet. man or woman lose their self-respect, and takes friendships is the special function of New Year’s Youth is proverbially ungrateful. Parents who the light and joy out of life itself, for those who calls. The day is put to very bad use when it is have toiled, and toiled, to obtain for their children have any conscience remaining. Let us remem­ employed in a mere effort to count up a long list the wealth and ease which they never knew for ber, too, that we get out of the year, as out of the of names of persons whom one may have seen themselves, have seen with dismay the ill conse­ ground, very much what we put in—increased and yesterday, or the day before, and who have- no quences of their indulgence, and have been re­ multiplied if the soil is good and fruitful, but steady purpose to prevent them from calling every proached with taking away the great stimulus to never wholly different in kind, so that we should day of their lives. Of course one does not want attainment, which is the necessity for exertion. be neither surprised nor disappointed at results. to mi6s one’s intimates on such a day, but there is Children know little difference between riches not the same object in setting apart a day for and their absence, except that in their absence them, and that is the reason why some modern they usually enjoy a sweeter home life—have A Brace of Brilliant Attractions. and fashionable people, who have “ traveled,” re­ more of their mother’s society and influence, and We have the pleasure of announcing that we linquish the custom when they return home to a more to do with the everyday life and surround­ have completed arrangements by which we shall life based, as far as possible, on what they have ings of their parents. The rich are mainly given be able to give to our readers a treat, in the latest heard and seen abroad. But this class are not all over to servants, and happy are they who can look works of two of the most brilliant writers of the of New York, or American society. There are back upon some kind old “ Mammy ” who partly present day, Miss L. M. Alcott, and Miss Jessie many who represent the oldest and best families, made up by her tenderness for the absence of their Fothergill, the author of the popular novels, “ The who cling to old habits, who do not spend half natural mother, although her indiscriminating in­ First Violin,” “ Probation,” and “The Well- their lives abroad, but who are the strength and dulgence probably intensifies their faults. steads,” published by Henry Holt & Co. of New honor of the best enterprises and efforts at home. It seems very singular that the acquisition of York. Then there are others, busy business and profes­ large means should render us so blind that we are Miss Louisa M. Alcott fulfills the promise of last sional men and women, who form the largest part willing to delegate our most important duties to season, in contributing to our columns a story of of our “ best ” society, who perhaps do the most others, and to a class naturally unfitted to perform original construction and great dramatic power, to formulate its habits and perpetuate its customs, them. Nor is this the result of a lack of the entitled “ The Artist,” and divided into three and to these the First of January, as a day of sense of duty; it is only that its manifestation has parts. It is quite different from anything Miss freedom and devotion to the social idea, is a boon changed, its form become perverted, as the sub­ Alcott has written or published, and will de­ which they welcome apart from its significance ject looks at it through strange eye-glasses. Many velop a new strain of intense and dramatic com­ and the desire to perpetuate it as a custom. a mother who only sees her own children once or position in this gifted author. The young do not realize the value to those who twice in the day, when they are brought to her in Of Miss Fothergill’s new story, which is to be are older of the traditions of their past: but, as apple-pie order, is prominent in a dozen charita­ published simultaneously in Temple Bar, in Lon­ they grow old themselves, they find a terrible ble societies, a “ directress ” in “ Homes for the don, Mr. Bentley, its editor, and one of the high­ poverty, even in the midst of wealth, in lives that Friendless,” or a Waif Asylum, quite unconscious est London literary authorities, thus writes : are not bound by habits and associations, even that her own children need just such gentle in­ “Dear Mr . Ho l t : .... Now I want to though these may at times have proved irksome. fluences as she eloquently asks for others. If the tell you that I have just read through a work Another pleasant New Year’s custom, bound New Year could bring to each of us a true concep­ which has taken me by surprise. It is by the perhaps to become more universal even than tion of duty, and a will to perform it, it would be author of ‘The First Violin,’ ‘Probation,’ and “ calls,” is the one of sending New Year’s cards. the best gift it could bring to young or old—much ‘The Wellsteads,’ but as superior to these, and to everything else she has written, as it is possible This is possible to every one who can afford the better than those material things which we desire, to conceive. To me it has the strength of ' Jane smallest amount of outlay, from a few cents to a and pray for so ardently. Eyre.' It is so powerful that though in MSS. I few dollars—the expenditure only being in pro­ For the middle-aged the New Year holds few il­ was glad to get back to it. I write after a week’s portion to the number of one’s friends and de­ lusions. They know that it can bring them little absence from it, and my opinion is confirmed by the distance of time. I greatly increased my offer sire to be kept in their remembrance. Cards have except what they can put into it; but they have to Miss Fothergill, and told her I believed she had become worthy of preservation as works of art. also learned the extent of their own powers, and written a work which would immensely increase Some of them are beautiful, and there is no better the weakness and the strength of the forces ar­ her fame. I shall run it through Temple Bar next way of reminding old friends who are at a dis­ rayed against them. They know that life is but a year (1881). tance of our existence, than by sending a remem­ “ (Signed), George Bentley.” hard-fought battle at best, and that there is more brance of this kind. honor in winning the game against odds, than in We shall begin the publication of this powerful It is well also not to look upon these things having it fought and won for you. Difficulties story, for which we have contracted with the from the standpoint of cost at all, but from that strengthen and develop character, and thus one of American publishers, Henry Holt & Co., in the of the human and social idea, from which nearly the philosophers of our time has said, “ For the February number of the Magaziue, as, on account all of our happiness in this world and that which young, nature and simplicity, an atmosphere in of the early publication of this periodical, and its makes life worth the living springs. Time will which to grow; for the middle-aged, cities, contest, large London and Australian editions, the first in­ teach us that the compensation in the case can­ and constant activity; for the old, rest and peace. ” stallment did not reach us in time for our January not be counted by cost, and that to neglect For the old have nothing to expect; all that is number. our part is to separate ourselves from the great left them to enjoy is the love and care of those The February number of this M a g a z in e will body of breathing, working, hoping, loving life about them, and they need a divine patience to contain a beautiful picture of Marie Antoinette, about us, many of whose sorrows and mischances endure the loss and the waiting which come to a companion of, and quite equal to the much- are compensated for by participation in such them. A little more of this quality would help admired portrait of Marie Stuart, issued some simple joys. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 4 3

-treat to palates not accustomed to delicacies, and The Revised Bible. even by others more cultivated, they are still con­ Country Life in Winter A g r e a t deal has been said lately in regard to sidered superior to many an article of high cost. Is sometimes more pleasant than life in the city. the “ new” Bible, which is to come out of the Breakfast, dinner, and supper, at night or be­ It is where the people are bright, intelligent, and work of revision which is now approaching com­ tween meals, the apple is never out of place, and interested, where they take plenty of magazines pletion at the hands of some of the most distin­ never clogs upon the taste. Less delicate than guished members of the Protestant clergy in this and newspapers, and have frequent neighborhood many other fruits, it ripens at a time when it has parties, and sociables. It is where they have a country and in England. An idea has obtained to take the place of them all, and is the only one that there was some ground for the objections men’s and women’s club, or a lively musical or that can offer us any compensation for their de­ literary society which keeps everything moving, which have been raised of late years, and that parture. this revision is to smooth things, to u adapt ” the and will not let the wit or the talent grow rusty Bible to modem ideas, without much regard to its for want of use. The young people do not care integrity, or the exactness of its relation to the A Good Work. to leave such country places as these, and so we " old ” Bible, the Bible of many hopes and prayers. find more of them remaining at home, and con­ The Association for the Advancement of the All this is so utterly foreign to the work and sequently more life, more activity, more growth, Medical Education of Women is endeavoring to and an absence of the dead-alive stagnation which the purpose, and so at variance with the real state raise an endowment, or an annual subscription of the case, that it becomes a duty to dispel mis­ is characteristic of other country places. You equivalent to the income from an endowment, for can tell what a country town or village is, on en­ apprehension on the subject. There has never the benefit of the Woman’s Medical School of the been any reason to doubt the integrity of those to tering, by just looking at the door-yards. If these New York Infirmary. The medical schools of are gay with flowers, neat and trim in appearance, whom the important work of collecting, or arrang­ women are in the same condition as the colored ing, or classifying the Scriptures of the Old and and show signs of care, it is pretty certain to be a schools: that is, the wealth and resources of the bright, progressive place; but if there is a hang­ New Testaments has been delegated. But there country are all lodged in the richly endowed have been enormous difficulties in the way in get­ dog look about everything, if the only paper to be schools for young men. A school for women has seen is a week old, and the “ old folks ” have been ting at the originals and comparing translations no endowment, no rich backing, and therefore de­ left alone, it is quite certain that it is because the with the original text. The first English transla­ pends on individual effort solely. The associa­ young folks could not stand the stupidity any tions were made contemporary with Shakespeare, tion already supplies two chairs, and wishes to longer. and nothing can exceed the beauty and majesty of provide a salary for the dispensary department, the language in which the thoughts are conveyed, the work of which is enormous and of a very the splendor of the diction, or the grandeur of onerous kind, and has heretofore been done the poetic imagery. gratuitously by the women physicians and gradu­ Our New Title Page for 1881. To “ modernize ” the noble simplicity of the ates of the College of the New York Infirmary. style would be to destroy it, and no lover of the Dr. Mary Putnam Jacobi is the founder and presi­ We need hardly direct the attention of our lady Bible would endure the sacrilege for a moment. It dent of the association. readers to our new illuminated title page which would no longer be the Bible. But, on the other has been designed expressly for this number. hand, there has never been the slightest desire to The artistic grouping and rich blending of color impair in any way a style which, as well as the will at once strike even an uneducated eye, while matter, is accepted as 6acred, and which appeals The Hew York Cooking School. the preservation of the unities, and the decorative to the most ignorant as well as the most learned hat T New York has a cooking school is owing taste displayed in the whole of the work is calcu­ understanding. It is also picturesque as well as to the persevering efforts of Miss Juliet Corson, lated to please the most fastidious. The idea is strong, and if not always clear, it is because lan­ and the wise benevolence of the ladies and gentle­ mainly the representation of Japanese decorative guage is plastic, and the English language never men associated with her. Slowly, and with little art. The Japanese forms, the plaques, the fans, more so than at its most grandly formative period, help from the outside public, it has grown into an the peacock’s feathers, the China jar containing when the King James version saw the light. influence, if not a power, and, encouraged by the the blossoming plant, which is a feature of all The present revision of that translation is the interest which is beginning to be manifested, and Japanese interiors, are so thoroughly characteris­ ninth, but each one has been more or less imper­ which expresses itself in the best possible way, tic as to be recognized at once. And though more fect for want of the materials. Instead of some that of a steady increase in the number of pupils, such objects might have been introduced, yet they twenty comparatively modern manuscripts to the board of managers have extended their sphere could not without crowding the space, while the judge from and compare with, there are now over of operations, and organized a department of skill of the artist has been fairly shown in the one thousand discovered by modern research, household economy and management upon the happy manner by which he has brought the va­ some of which are of the most ancient date, and basis of a permanently chartered and incorporated rious features into proper relations—measured which are used for comparison, and in order to institution. their values, and distributed his strong and varied correct errors which have arisen In the past Already they have in their premises, 22 East coloring, so that no single one should predomi­ through old methods of making copies, and the 17th Street, six young girls in training for domes­ nate, but all live together in accord and harmony. like. tic servants, who are bound by the terms of their The present work has been in progress ten agreement to remain in the institution one year, years. All sects are represented in the nearly and are then furnished with a certificate and sup­ eighty divines who are at work, and who must plied with places at excellent wages. This num­ agree upon every doubtful point before it is ber will be Increased probably to a dozen before “ Paola.” admitted, including Unitarians and Quakers. the year is out, which is all for whom they have When completed it will be more truly the “ old ” accommodation. (See Card Oil Picture.) Bible than ever, for the errors which have crept This is only the beginning of the new departure, The little Paola, whom we have put on a into the modern versions will be eliminated, and which it is hoped in time will greatly extend its card and honored with a place in the January will be more truly the Word of God as delivered usefulness. The principal business is still th e number of our Magazine, is a little Italian girl, to true believers than before, and a stronger courses of demonstration lessons, which include brought to the great city of New York, probably weapon in the hand of the ministry, because a First and Second Artisan Course, the Plain by one of the vile agents who sometimes kidnap secure from criticism. Cook’s Course, and a course for ladies. A kitchen the children of poor peasants, and carry them to garden has also been organized for the training of foreign countries, where they use them for their younger pupils. The instruction is naturally, at own wicked purposes. You see the wistful, far-off A Blessing to the Poor. least much of it, an oft-told tale to experienced look in the poor child’s eyes, and the sadness of housekeepers who are also good cooks, but it is her expression, which is so painful on a young "Apple-year ” is a matter of rejoicing to thou­ not always possible for these to teach others, and face. But the point to which we wish to call spec­ sands. When apples are cheap the poor are not so it is an enormous advantage to have as a perma- ial attention is the feather in her hat. Doubtless likely to go hungry, for almost any one can man­ nant institution a well-regulated school of cookery this little girl inherited the Italian love of the age an apple and a piece of bread, and together under intelligent management, where girls, young beautiful, for, finding a peacock feather in the they make no despicable meal. Apples are a bless­ married women, and young women expecting to be street one day, she eagerly picked it up, and ing because they are so wholesome, as Well as so married, can obtain in a series of lessons many stuck it in her worn felt with the utmost pride delicious, and can be cooked in such a variety of facts and principles which they will never forget, and delight, and this is how she comes to have ways. Apples baked, apples stewed, apples fried, and which, if they do not cover all the ground this bit of gayety in her picture; though it must apples in a pie or pudding, apples above all things necessary for household management, will at least truly be said to harmonize well with her bronze in dumplings, baked, and apples raw, are equally enable them to furnish their tables more health­ hair and yellow stuff dress, subdued by its black welcome. The cost is a mere trifle, yet what a fully and palatably. bodice. 4 4 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

Do you delight in the expression of pathos or pas­ not draw checks or give notes—they pay cash. sion ? There it is living and moving before your There is nearly $60 per capita of coin circulation, eyes. It seems to me that the theater combines and in the United States there is only $24. Clear­ C urrent Topics all the arts, and fine plays worthily presented are ly we might learn something from the French. an education esthetic as well as intellectual. Miss Rustic.—What you say excites my curi­ Pity the Poor Rich. Notes and Comments on Events osity, and, as I am away from home, I may some We are living in prosperous times. The price time venture to go with you to see a famous of all sorts of property is advancing, and every of the Day. artiste. I see you are having a great deal of at­ one in business is getting rich or hopes to do so tention paid to Sarah Bernhardt. What do you soon. But there is one drawback to the prosper­ think of her ? ous times. People who live on incomes derived INTERESTING SUBJECTS AND NOTABLE | Mrs. Urban.—Now there is a case in point. from government and other standard securities | Sarah Bernhardt, as the Lord made her, was a tall, find themselves growing poorer. Money is be- THINGS WHICH HAVE OCCURRED DURING awkward, bony creature ; but through the most coming cheap. In Wall Street it has not averaged perfect training she is lithe, graceful, willowy, much above three per cent, during the past busy THE PAST MONTH. — CONTEMPORA­ and her very defects have been converted into season. Investments in United States securities beauties. Her voice was not naturally strong, but NEOUS HISTORY FROM A FAMILIAR bring in only three and a half per cent. Mortgages by training and culture has been made music it­ on real estate that ranged from seven in the East- POINT OF VIEW. self. Her origin was poor, for her mother was a lern States to fifteen in the West have been reduced runaway Jewess of unfortunate antecedents, yet until now four and five per cent, is the common rate. this marvelous woman seems from her appearance Those who held securities when the “ boom ” ABOUT THEATERS. to have descended from a race of princesses. To commenced find themselves apparently much bet­ see Sarah Bernhardt, is to look upon the finest ex- ter off. But when they seek to invest there is no [A conversation between Miss Rustic. Miss Urban, and lemplification of the highest French art. We have margin of profit. In the meantime the price of Mrs. Urban.] nothing like her in this country, nor have we ever everything is advancing; food and clothing cost had another artist so remarkable, save perhaps more, and rents are higher. So a good many Miss Rustic.—I would so like to see Sarah Bern­ Rachel and Salvini. I do not think it will hurt people who thought they had fair incomes find hardt, but where I come from good people are anyone to see this woman in one of her great roles, they cannot live without work. They are forced prejudiced against the theater. They say that or to hear the purest French spoken upon our to go into business to keep up their old standard amusements of that kind are demoralizing, and boards. After all, the public deals with the artiste, of comfort. It is now settled that we will never that women like Sarah Bernhardt are no credit to not with the woman or her private life. She does have money so dear as it has been in the past, and their sex. How do you regard it, pray ? not parade her personal virtues or vices. She as­ this means that we will have a smaller return for Miss Urban.—I am sure I like to go to the the­ sumes ideal characters, gives them form, and all investments. One benefit arises from this ater, and I don’t realize that it has done me any brings before the mind’s eye (and the body’s eye state of things : it sets everybody at work pro­ harm. I know there are stories as to the private for that matter) the exact intention of the author. ducing, and “ it is better to wear out than to rust lives of theatrical artists which are not to their Say what we will, the theater is established among out.” credit. They are the subject not only of private us ; it is growing in popularity yearly, and instead of discountenancing and condemning it, the clergy A 2,500 Acre Farm. scandal but of public ill report. In private life we The late A. T. Stewart in 1869 bought 7,000 hear so many unpleasant things about good and would be much better employed in reforming it, reputable people that I have always supposed that and making it the school of art and morals it acres of land at Hempstead, Long Island. It cost injustice was done these artists. might become. him $394,350. It was regarded as almost worth­ Mrs. Urban.—I think you are right, daughter. Miss Rustic.—I notice that in church festivals less land. As a speculation it has not paid to this Women who work so hard as do actresses cannot and school exhibitions there is a growing ten­ day. A city was built, but no one seems to care live very reprehensible lives. The necessities of dency toward theatrical display. Dialogues are to live in it, and a college is about to be estab­ their profession keep them so constantly em­ spoken, in which young people take part in pub­ lished to help to populate Garden City, as it is ployed that they have not time nor strength for lic ; and these declamations and readings have got called. 2,500 acres of the land have been set apart the orgies in which it is vulgarly supposed they to be very common, even in the sitting-rooms of as a farm, and W. R. Hinsdale is its manager. He pass most of their time. I think it very likely clergymen, when there is a social gathering of uses steam plows and all the improved machin­ that the intimacy between the sexes which is con­ church people. ery. This year he has raised 20,500 bushels of sequent upon a theatrical career, the publicity Miss Urban.—Yes, and I have noticed, in social oats, 30,500 bushels of shelled corn, 600 bushels which attaches to an artist’s life, robs them of festivities among the laity, that recitations have of wheat, and 500 bushels of buckwheat. The modesty, ami makes them tolerate familiarities taken the place of dancing. Now, I like to dance, oddity about this great farm is, it being the only and conversation which is not considered proper but I think the hearing of fine verses, by one one in the Eastern States comparable to the great or right in private life. But no really depraved trained in the elocutionary art, is much more im­ prairie farms of the West. The land is flat and woman or man can be a great artist; it would tell proving and quite as pleasant. without trees or herbage. No fences are used. upon their features and their voice. No very Mrs. Urban.—Yes, I regard this as one of the Underneath this curious farm is a reservoir of pure wicked woman has a sweet voice or a gracious best social tendencies of the times. Music, in­ water. The property is worth a visit on account presence. Vice soon shows itself in the demeanor strumental and vocal, is very well in its way, and of the labor-saving machines used, and the hint it and gestures of all her votaries. I can uever be­ I do not object to young people enjoying a dance. gives to fanners to dispense with fences. The lieve that the noble, sweet women I have seen But the training or the human voice, so as to give cost of fencing, taking the whole country through, upon the stage are wholly bad, or that they are, the best expression to “ thoughts that breathe is something enormous; and with a proper sys­ taken for all in all, much worse than the average and words that burn,’’ seems to me a very desira­ tem of caring for cattle, this waste might all be of human kind. ble accomplishment. One of the greatest charms saved. It is a curious circumstance that the late Miss Rustic.—How is it that these people have of our sex is a sweet, well-trained voice, capable A. T. Stewart, while great as a merchant, was most such dreadful reputations ? Why is the Church of giving expression to all the softer and sweeter unwise in his investments in real estate. He bought so set against the theater ? emotions of our race. The stage, in so far as it houses and lands simply because they were cheap; Mrs. Urban.—Well, for a very good reason. cultivates the taste for natural action, and the ex­ and he was mistaken in his every venture. Houses The theater dates back to a rude age. Strangely pression of feeling by voice and gesture, is so far and lands that are cheap are apt to be undesir­ enough the first theatrical representations were of an educator and improver of the human race. By able. all means let us try and reform the stage. a religious character. They depicted in the mid­ On to Mexico. dle ages the life and sufferings of the Saviour. Miss R ustic.—Well, suppose we go and see The Evil One was represented by a weak and fool­ Sarah Bernhardt to-night. The American speculator looks with longing ish fellow who furnished the amusement and Living on their Income. eyes to the halls of the Montezumas. It is known that in Senora and Chihuahua are the greatest the sport for the common people. The clown and People who live on their investments in France the pantaloon in the modern pantomlne are really mines in the world; that certain portions of the modem representatives of the ancient devil. are called rentiers. Out of a population of 37,- Mexico are rich in sugar and coffee lands; and it Further along in the history of the stage the im­ 000,000, it has been found that nearly two million is known that so far her commerce has been morality of society tolerated language and charac­ have fixed incomes and do not need to work. diverted to England rather than to the United teristics which were very reprehensible. Iu the Some 7,500,000 French people are also in receipt States. To get this trade away from Englaud, time of Charles II. the stage was dreadfully im­ of sums from investments and government secur­ to develop the industrial possibilities of Mexico, moral, and the ministers of that day were justified ities, savings banks, and the like. The French it is proposed to build railroads which will connect In protesting against the looseness of the stage. are the richest people on earth, that is to say, they the different parts of the republic with the rail­ But since that time theatrical entertainments have are the most economical of the Caucasian race. way system of the United States. General Grant been much improved and moralized, and certainly Wealth is very generally distributed, and all the made a speech recently in New York advocating some of the plays produced in our leading cities world pays tribute to French art and taste. There the opening up of commercial relations with our for the last ten years are as good as any sermon I is more money in Great Britain; but it is unequal­ sister republics, and already ground has been ever heard. Take the " Two Orphans." What a ly divided, and there is less economy practiced by broken to construct railways through the State of pitiful story it tells, and how can a person see it the average inhabitant of the two islands. There Texas to the Laredo Pass on the Rio Grande, on without having his heart touched and his sympa­ are no panics in France, for the Frenchman never the way to the capital of Mexico. No less than thies aroused, and all his better nature strength­ goes in debt. One secret of the prosperity of that three roads are under way. Once they are built ened, and yet it is a French drama. nation is the fact, that it has more gold and silver the reign of lawlessness in that country will be Miss Urban.—Yes, mother, and is it not true coin in circulation than all the rest of Europe put over. Property will be rendered secure, and it that ail that Is noble in the poetry of our language together. There are nearly $2,000,000,000 in gold in is supposed that thousands of active, energetic finds expression on the stage ? Do you love use in France,and 000,000.000 silver five-frauc pieces Americans will seek their fortunes in that country. painting? How splendidly the theater brings out have been coined for the use of the Latin Union. It is believed that there is a design on foot to the scenery. Do you admire statuary ? Here it What a boon it would be to the United States if purchase from Mexico, Chihuahua and Sonora. is on the boards, animated. See how those trained its people had the same horror of debt which is This Is to satisfy the covetous American miner, artists pose, how graceful in all their movements! characteristic of a Frenchman. The French do I who hungers for the great mineral wealth now DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE,

unutilized in the mountains of Northern Mexico. a wire cable wound around a drum. When the the United States. Some day or other Canada The inhabitants of Mexico are not desirable addi­ express train dashes along, a hook on the last car will cast her lot with the great Republic. In tions to our population. They are generally half- catches a ring in which the cable terminates, and case of war between the United States and Great breeds, a cross between the Spaniards, Indians, the waiting car is carried forward, not with a sud­ Britain the Dominion would drop like a ripe plum and negro races. Hence, as a people, we have den jerk, but at a rate gradually increasing to that into the mouth of Brother Jonathan. There is been averse to the annexing of Mexico. The coun­ of the train, the cable being unwound in the no scientific frontier between the two countries. try is desirable, but we do not want the inhabi­ process. Then the motor is used to rewind the Canada would be wholly at the mercy of the tants. Our custom has been to dismember Mexi­ cable on the drum until close connection is made United States, even though backed by the whole co gradually, and to quietly get rid of the inhabi­ between the waiting car and the train. When the power of Great Britain. We can afford to wait, tants of the annexed States. There are but few passengers are transferred, the waiting car is cut for English capital is building vast railway lines, of the original inhabitants now left in Texas or loose, to be carried back to the station by its own Welland Canals, Victoria bridges, and the like, all California, and should the coming four years see j motive power. What a saving of time this will of which will be owned some day by the Amer­ Senora and Chihuahua annexed, the present in­ bring about when universally adopted. ican people. There has been a natural reluctance habitants would soon disappear. They don’t like it. to incorporating Cuba, San to Domingo, or Mexico Electric Light And now the English millers are in trouble. into the United States, for the additions that The Americans are sending forward flour in would be made to our population would not be Yes, the problem is certain to be solved. In desirable; but the English, Irish. Scotch, and a quarter of a century from now our present place of wheat. The farmers of Minnesota and French, who make up the bulk of the people of illuminating oil will be as much behind the age Dakota say, Why send the bran, and waste thou­ the Dominion, are of our own race and religion, as whale oil, the “ penny dip,” or the old tallow- sands of miles before it reaches a market, when and would become very desirable citizens of the candle are to-day. If Edison, has not solved the we can manufacture the wheat into flour, and American Union. May all our readers live to see problem of electric lights, others will take up ship that at a greatly reduced cost ? As yet the the day when the sway of our country will not the task and do so. In all our large cities these great bulk of our export is in wheat, and this only extend from the Atlantic to the Pacific, new lights are becoming common. Little by because the English flour requires American but when our flag will float over the whole land, little, electricity is being used for illuminating grain to give it body. English wheat is soft and from the Gulf of Mexico up to the open Polar purposes. At first the lights in theaters were starchy, while California and our Western grain is Sea. glutinous and far more nutritious. In this con­ ignited by electricity; then came the brilliant International Boat-racing. displays in our public squares-; and now Edison, nection it would be well to note how rapidly we and a host of inventors, are at work to break up exhaust our soil for the production of the best Well, Hanlan has won the international match, the light so that it can be used in private dwellings. varieties of wheat. In the early history of this and wrested the championship belt from Trickett, It will be cheaper and safer than the old methods country, Long Island wheat was the finest known the gigantic Australian, who has held it for sev­ of illuminating. Then it will be marvelously beau­ anywhere ; afterwards, Northern and Central New eral years. The remarkable thing about this race tiful, when properly manipulated. The effect lust York became famous; then the Genesee Valley was the ease with which it was won, while the now is somewhat ghastly, but, when modified by flour was known all over the world for its nutri­ time was longer than usual. Four miles and tinted glasses, the light will be soft and weird tious qualities; then Ohio flour took its place, three furlongs were covered in twenty-six minutes and very grateful to the eye. The night, in time, while now the best flour in the market comes and twelve seconds. The distance has been re­ will be far more brilliant than the day. It is not from Minnesota and Dakota. The desirable qual­ peatedly gone over by scullers of less fame in too much to look forward to the time when all ity is the gluter, which soon disappears after re­ twenty-five minutes. The critics say that Han­ the inhabited portions of the earth’s surface will peated croppings, leaving the starchy elements to lan’s success is due to some abnormal develop­ blaze with light during all the still hours of the predominate. The time will come when it will ment in two muscles in his legs, known as the ex­ night, and that too at very small cost. The sun pay to revive our old wheat grounds. For the tensors. With these he can make a pull in the itself will be voted a poor luminary alongside of present it-is cheaper to cultivate new land than it water so tremendous that it takes the heart out this human invention; while the moon will no is to artificially improve old soils. of any sculler who contests the race with him. longer have the mouopoly of the mild, soft splen- Our Pig-tailed Fellow-Citizen. While Hanlan is able to give these tremendous dor which distinguishes its effulgence. What a short pulls, he soon becomes tired, and is forced marvelous world our descendants will live in! And now it is reported that the Chinese Govern­ ment has consented to a modification of the treaty to rest repeatedly. Hence his queer maneuvers; The House of the Future. his stopping to look around; his laughing at his Are we realizing the great change that is taking between the United States and China, which gives rival. Had Trickett borne in mind Hanlan’s pe­ us the power to regulate Chinese emigration. It place in the domestic architecture of the large culiarities he could have won the race easily, but is a notable circumstance that wherever China­ he tried to “ spurt,” and lost the race by tiring cities. The apartment house, sometimes called the men have settled a hostile public sentiment has himself out prematurely. But how absurd it Paris Flat, is a thing of yesterday; yet how im­ 60on been excited against them. The more China­ seems for millions of people to wager their money mense they are, and how numerous they have men the more keenly are they antagonized by the and become intensely excited over a boating con­ become. Certain social reform dreamers have been whites. In the Middle and Eastern States, where test between two men where the race was finally telling us of the possibilities of the associated home, John Chinaman is a curiosity, it is difficult to re­ won because one man had a larger muscle in his where a hundred families can live under one roof, alize the hatred felt for them on the Pacific coast. leg than the other! “ Men are but children of a with a common kitchen, laundry, and dining hall. There is the same prejudice in New Zealand, New larger growth.” They have pointed out the economy of washing South Wales, Australia, and in every other place and cooking by machinery; but all this was to be on the globe where the Mongolian and the Cau­ The Naval Review. done by means of associations, and the organization casian compete for labor. Last August the Legis­ Last month the available naval force of the of phalanxes and communities. But, lo a marvel! lature of South Australia passed an act to restrict United States was gathered together at Hampton we have the associated home where many fami­ Chinese emigration. It provides that no vessel Roads for inspection by the President, Cabinet, lies live together with comforts and conveni­ shall land more than one Chinaman to every ten ences the isolated house could not afford; but tons of its tonnage, while £10 (that is $50) shall be and all who cared to see them. It was a sorry these great buildings are being erected by capi­ paid the collector for every Chinaman thus per­ spectacle. The United States has no navy. One talists, and not by committees or associations. mitted to land. And there are other restrictions. good foreign iron-clad could do more execution New York City has the Florence, the Victoria House, Theoretically the prejudice against the Chinese than our whole fleet. There are no better sailors the Haight House, and at least a hundred other im­ seems to be inhuman and preposterous, and it in the world than the Americans; our officers and mense buildings furnishing luxurious suites of does seem in conflict with the whole theory of our engineers are accomplished gentlemen, but our apartments. And on Eighth Avenue, opposite the government to restrict the liberty of any human ships of war belong to a past age, and are useless Central Park, an enormous structure is to be Being. Yet the arguments against Chinese emi­ either for offense or defense. On this occasion erected covering a whole block. It will have an gration are many and strong. They do not officers and men showed splendid drill, but it interior court-yard, a great restaurant, four eleva­ come here in families; the women are all of bad would be simple murder to risk an engagement tors and every possible luxury in the way of fine character; many of them have hideous vices un­ with tiny well-equipped foreign vessel. The ships living and beautiful appointments, all furnished known even to our depraved class; they reduce should have been maneuvered in a squadron, but at a cost very much below what would be required the standard of living in a way to make life in­ this was not done, although, to properly train our in a private house. The man of the future is tolerable to an Anglo-Saxon workman ; they mon­ officers, this should have been attempted. On going to be much better housed than were his opolize the employments of girls and boys, this occasion some fourteen vessels were brought ancestors. The American citizen can dwell in a and the one becomes a hoodlum, and the other— together, which is an extraordinarily large show­ palace superior to any occupied by emperor, king well, that story cannot be told. Something will ing for our contemptibly small and inefficient na­ or queen, and yet not costly. The feature of the undoubtedly be done to restrict Chinese emigra­ val marine. The reports made to Congress em­ architecture of the future will be these great resi­ tion to this country. phasize the fact that we have no navy, and that we dential palaces which amount to veritable com­ have no guns capable of coping with the artillery munities, and are the precursors of great social The Dominion to the North of Us. of Great Britain, France, or Germany. We have reforms. Let the American eagle exult in its pride of no great cannon in this country, nor any means of place no more. The Dominion of Canada, to the making them. Even the little armor we use on Saving Time. some of our naval vessels has to be bought How marvelous are the devices in use among north of us, now includes more acres than can be abroad, as Congress has refused to appropriate the inventors for saving space and time. All measured in the United States. The Canadians money to armor any of our vessels. The guns, have annexed all the vast spaces to the north of such as we need, would take from a year to eight­ the forces of the modern world seem bent upon them up to the very pole. Hudson’s Bay, Labra­ een months to manufacture; but modem wars are getting rid of distance in space and of shorten­ dor, from Greenland over to Alaska and Behring’s short affairs, and our sea-coast cities would be ing time. Our readers will have noticed that on Straits is now included in the Dominion of Can­ captured before we could begin to construct them. some railroad lines long tanks are placed, out ada. Two thirds of the Dominion is probably un­ The economy of Congress in this matter of the of which they scoop the water required for the inhabitable. Vast tracts of it is a mere snow and public defense is as criminal as it is contemptible. engine, without any stoppage of the train. A new ice field in which the hardiest animals cannot live. invention in Germany is designed to take passen­ It is some little humiliation to Americans that Disturbances from the Stars. gers on board trains without “ slowing up.” The Canada to the north and Brazil to the south have The prophet of disaster is abroad. The next plan is to have a waiting carriage ready which has a larger extent of country than is to be found in few years, according to a semi-scientific forecast, 4 6 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. is to be signalized by grave astronomic phenom­ I better attended to, better fed, better trained, 000,000 per annum. If a tenant improves his ena which will affect unfavorably the condition of than the Arab. But Mr. Blunt argues that in farm the landlord can raise the rent, because of us poor inhabitants of this earth. There are to be a few generations the pure Arabian will show an im­ those improvements; that is, except in Ulster, meteorological disturbances all over the globe. mense superiority over the English and American where tenant-right prevails. There seems to be Jupiter has passed the point when it is nearest the thoroughbred. Man is showing his dominion over no hope for Ireland, so long as America can pro­ sun, and its retreat from its perihelion is to be nature by improving all the plants and animal duce food so cheaply, while the governing class marked by violent snowstorms and earthquakes, which minister to his necessities, his comforts in England are a race of merciless landlords. extending about the globe. Saturn is coming his luxuries, and his tastes. Whether it be cereal, Unhappy Ireland! very near the earth. It will continue to grow vegetable, fruit, flower, sheep, oxen, or horses, Contagious Lunacy. brighter until 1884, when it will be a hundred mil­ the fostering care of man betters them, improves One of the most curious chapters in human lion miles nearer the sun than when at its maxi­ them, increases their usefulness, value, beauty, mum distance. It is supposed that the pulsations from generation to generation. The only excep­ history is that which tells of emotional conta­ made by the retreating and the coming planets! tion in all animated nature, is in the case of man gions or epidemics. Whole communities some­ will have their effect in shocks, electrical and himself. True, civilization and education are do­ times are afflicted with a particular mania. Ver- magnetic, which will cause divers evils to the in­ ing much to add to the beauty, strength, and in­ zegnis, Italy, has recently been visited by an epi­ habitants of the earth. The prophets of evil of telligence of the human race; but there are other demic of a religious character. A hysterical old professed to draw their inspiration from the things quite as important, which are attended to woman saw a priest under circumstances which stars. They cast nativities, and foretold the fu­ in the case of the lower animals and the plants, threw her into convulsions, she uttering cries ture of individuals from observations with the but which are utterly neglected in the hitman and lamentations on seeing any one in holy or­ horoscope; but modern science takes no stock in kingdom itself. ders or when she heard a church bell. The peas­ the notion that individual lives are influenced by France to be Educated. ants believed she was possessed of a demon, and the stars. But we know that stellar, lunar, she was publicly exorcised. After a short time and solar influences do affect climates and mag­ Hurrah for the noble French republic! The three other women were attacked in the same netic conditions so as to produce storms, deluges, education of the children has been taken away way. In their case a solemn mass was said to droughts, earthquakes, and alternations of violent from the clericals, and Minister Ferry proposes expel the demon. But the evil spirit got the best heat and cold. to furnish compulsory and gratuitous education of the church, for some forty other women be­ The coming five years will be marked by many to all the young of France. The priests, when came possessed, and proclaimed themselves pro­ important astronomical occurrences. Winnecke’s they had the monopoly of teaching, thought a phetesses and talked nonsense about the future. comet made its perihelion passage December 4th, great deal more of instructing their pupils in Only one man, and he a soldier, imitated the and was visible for some weeks after. Faye’s the creed of the Church than in the letters of women. As the priest had failed, the authorities comet will be at its perihelion January 23d next, the alphabet. Of the recruits in the German sent a file of soldiers to the commune where the and, in November, Encke’s great comet is due. army before Sadowa, two out of every hundred epidemic prevailed, the afflicted women were ar­ The great comet of 1812, it is expected, will be could not read and write. In the French array, rested and sent to a hospital, given appropriate visible before the close of the year. Indeed the fifty-six out of a hundred could not read. The State remedies, whereupon the Evil One departed from stars will be worth looking at during the coming educated the Germans: the priests had charge of Verzegnis and has not been heard of since. year. We will have four eclipses—two of the the education of the Frenchmen. The Republi­ sun, and two of the moon—one of them a total cans of France have realized that their defeat by Ships by the Mile. eclipse. Saturn will be in a position which will the Germans was attributable more to the school­ The use of shipping has revived all over the give astronomers a chance to study the texture of master than to the needle-gun. Germany has world. When the telegraph became extended to its mysterious rings. Who knows but in the not taught France the necessity for secular education, distant foreign ports, shippers of goods were en­ distant future that we may communicate with but France in turn is teaching Germany and Eu­ abled to follow merchant vessels and steamers to beings of superior intelligence in the far distant rope an important lesson in republican freedom. every port on the globe. This resulted in an enor stars ? On this earth we have learned to trans­ If Frauce can maintain a republic whose citizens mous saving of tonnage, for the ship-owner, with mute light into sound. In other words, by means are free, and whose children are educated; if its the pricelist before him, could tell what to buy of flashes of solar or electric light, we can produce people can be as contented and prosperous as un- sounds at a distance which will convey a meaning or sell without any waste of time. The telegraph der an empire, the time cannot be distant when practically doubled the tonnage on the ocean. And to other human beings than ourselves. Why may Germans, Austrians, Italians, and Englishmen so for some years back but few ships have been not this also be true of the distant stars ? What will be asking why royalty, why this vast ex- would seem more inexplicable than the consti- constructed. But sea-going craft are very perish­ pense for useless state officers ? Why cannot we able, and the world has entered upon a new era tution of the sun, the stare, and the planets ? Yet, be free as well as the people of the United States, I by means of the solar spectrum, we can be as­ of shipbuilding. The Clyde rings with the click of Switzerland, and of France ? And the leaven of hammers closing rivets up. All is activity in sured of the fact that iron, hydrogen, potassium, is working. Italy to-day is ripe for a republic. magnesium, and a dozen other familiar metals and the British shipyards. Alas, that we should say And, when Wilhelm and Bismarck are no more, it I there is no corresponding activity in our ship­ gases are a part of the constitution of the sun, the German may think the time is ripe for him to stars, and planets. This information has reached yards, nor is there likely to be, owing to unfortu­ assert his right to himself and to the choice of his nate legislation by our Congress. We export more us from a distance of hundreds of millions of rulers. miles. Why, if inorganic matter thus reveals of our native productions than any nation on earth, itself to us from the depths of the starry heavens, What’s the Matter with Ireland? but the profits all go to foreign ship-owners, as our may not intelligence, in time, flash between star Poor old Ireland again plunged into misery, and flag has practically disappeared from the ocean. and star, and from planet to sun ? the reason strangely enough is to be laid at the We are without a navy and without a merchant marine. The reports say that England is building Arabian Steeds. doors of the American farmer. It is the enor­ ships by the mile. At last the best blood of Arabia is accessi­ mous production of cheap food in this country ble to the world. The famous horses of the which is impoverishing the agricultural class ail Ericsson's Torpedo. over Europe. Nations with diversified industries, The Monitor of Capt. Ericsson saved us during Anazeh Tribe of Bedouins can now be purchased. such as France, Belgium, Switzerland, and the Two famous Arabian stallions have given us manufacturing portions of Germany, are able to the civil war from a great disaster. When the the best strains of blood in the English thor­ bear the competition of America in the supplies Merrimae the Confederate ironclad, sailed from oughbred. Darley Arabian was one, the other Go- of food. But purely agricultural countries, such Norfolk Harbor, there was nothing apparently to dolphin. These two stallions were pure Kehilens. as Italy, portions of Austria, Hungary, and Rus­ prevent her from coming to New York, and cap­ It is alleged that all that is valuable in the English sia, are plunged into poverty by the ability of the turing that city. Then, as now, we had no de­ racing horse is due to these two stallions, and that American farmer to sell his wheat at a profit in fenses for the metropolis that could resist the at­ the imperfection, occasional foaling of immature, Liverpool at less than $1.50 a bushel. Ireland tack of the poorest kind of an ironclad. But after fractious, and imperfect horses is due to the old suffers more than all the others, as it has no the Merrimac had beaten the wooden fleet at impure strains of blood which no crossing will get manufactures; for it has no mineral wealth, Hampstead Roads, the newly-constructed Monitor out. Of course, the English thoroughbred has neither coal nor iron, and the wretched peasantry came into view, and soon put an end to the dan­ been so carefully attended during the last 160 cannot pay rent when American wheat can be gerous career of the Confederate war vessel. Capt. years that he has greatly improved, while the pure landed in Dublin cheaper than they can raise it. Ericsson has now invented a very formidable en­ Arabian, because of the poverty of the Bedouins So the people of Ireland are on a strike. They gine of war. It involves three things—a boat, a and imperfect-nourishment, has not improved. But say, We cannot and we will not pay any rent for gun, and a projectile. The boat is submerged like it is the testimony of Mr. W. S. Blunt, who was the land we hold. We cannot help ourselves. the Monitor with the machinery below a deck of married to the granddaughter of Lord Byron, and All the English government can do is to arrest plate iron, strongly ribbed and defended by ar­ who has lived in the East among the Arabs, the leaders of the new agitation ; for Parliament mor plates. The deck-house above water has no that the English thoroughbreds to-day cannot be­ is dominated in both Houses by the owners of ports at the sides, and can be shot away without gin to compare with the Kehilen pure-blooded landed property, and to admit the no-rent claim damage to the vessel. The steering gear is ten Arabian horses. The latter have almost human in­ of the Irish people would be to upset the indus­ feet below the water line. The Destroyer, as it is telligence, never get out of temper, are docile and trial system and social importance of the govern­ called, is practically invulnerable, for with her enduring unto death. The breed has been care­ ing class of Great Britain. Some statistics of the armor she can defy the heaviest ordnance. At­ fully preserved, probably for tens of thousands of distribution of land in Ireland maybe interesting. tacking bows on she would be irresistible. A sin­ years. The. Turkish law did not permit of the ex­ There are 20,000,000 acres in the whole island. gle breech-loader of wrought iron, with a bore of portation of this fine animal. Now, however, the Four hundred and fifty-two men own 5,000 acres sixteen inches, is her only armament. This gun Arabs, who own this valuable horse, are poor, each; a hundred and thirty-five men own 10,000 lies seven feet under water, and discharges a pro­ and they are willing not only to sell their stallions acres each; ninety men own 20,000 acres each; jectile containing 250 pounds of dynamite. Ten but their brood mares, and, for the first time, it fourteen men own 50,000 acres each ; three men men will suffice for the crew, and within 400 feet will be possible to get a strain of blood pure on own 100,000 acres each: while the Marquis of of the enemy the gun is fired by electricity. If both sides. It is not argued that the Arabian Lansdowne owns 187,000 acres; while 5,000,000 the first shot fails, the firing can be kept up with horse can be taken on an English or American men of Ireland who till the soil have no own­ extraordinary rapidity. It is supposed that by this race-course, and there contest with the thorough­ ership whatever in the land they cultivate. great invention Capt. Ericsson has rendered use­ breds of the two countries, for the latter have been The absentee landlords take out of Ireland $50,- less all the costly iron-plated fleets in the world. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 4 7

It is terrible to think how sudden would be the gravies, sauces, and soups of France are largely destruction of a heavily armored ship, which like Scientific Items. indebted for their excellence to that source, and Achillea is vulnerable only in his heel; that is to say, below the line of armored plates. Let us hope Mildew—If clothes are absolutely dry before the bread and pastry equally so, while a deal of we will never have a war in which to test this tre­ they are folded and laid away, they will not mil­ the so-called cognac imported into England from mendous engine of destruction. Perhaps the in­ dew. France is distilled from "the potato. Throughout vention of so many death-dealing implements may Germany the same uses are common. In Poland in time render wars so cruel that mankind cannot Stained Marble.—A small quantity of diluted longer indulge in them. vitriol w ill take stains out of marble. Wet the the manufacture of spirits from the potato is a most extensive trade. “ Stettin brandy,” well Under the Ocean Again. spots with the acid, and in a few minutes rub briskly with a soft linen cloth till they disappear. known in commerce, is largely imported into Eng­ And now it is proposed to lay two new cables land, and is sent from there to many parts of our Cleansing from Foul Odors.—All sorts of vessels under the ocean. We already have one French foreign possessions as the produce of the grape, may be purified from long-retained smells of and three English lines, but they have become a and is placed on many a table of England as the every kind in the easiest manner by rinsing them monopoly, and hence the American Union Tele­ same; while the fair ladies of America perfume graph Company, an opposition to the Western out well with charcoal powder after the grosser Union, proposes to have two cables of its own. impurities have been scoured off with sand and themselves with the spirit of potato under the des­ The telegraph, cither on land or sea, should not water. ignation of eau de cologne. But there are other be owned by private companies; but should be uses which this esculent is turned into abroad. worked by an international commission, represent­ How to Clean Silver-ware.—Frosted silver-ware After extracting the farina, the pulp is manufac­ ing all the nations interested. It has been found or frosted ornamentation on plain silver should tured into ornamental articles, such as picture- that the government monopoly of telegraph lines never, says a contemporary, be cleaned with pow­ in Europe has resulted in cheapening telegraphy, frames, snuff-boxes, and several descriptions of der, but only with a soft brush and strong lye, toys. and giving the public far more facilities than is accompanied by frequent rinsings with soft water. possible under private corporate management. Peruvian Bark.—The experiments begun ten or The two new lines, it is said, will land at Cape After the frosted parts are dry, the polished parts Cod. No doubt the time is coming when they may be rubbed carefully with powder. twelve years ago for naturalizing in certain parts of India the best varieties of the cinchona or Peru­ will be needed not only for telegraphic, hut for Sea-Water.—Sea-water is largely impregnated telephonic communication. vian bark tree have been attended with the most with common salt and with chloride of magnesium, A Landlord Hunt. remarkable success, and there are now in various to which it owes its bitter taste. From the vast stages of growth probably millions of cinchona “ Boycotting,” it is called. The name comes surface of the sea pure water is constantly evapo­ from an English fanner who settled in Ireland as plants already yielding the Peruvian bark so plen­ rating to form the clouds; into it run the con­ tifully and so perfectly that the price of quinine the agent of Lord Erne. He undertook to evict tents of myriads of rivers, while the sea itself some tenants for non-payment of rent, whereupon has fallen considerably in Ceylon and other parts. constantly returns to the earth marine plants, fish, There is every probability that in six or seven every person in his employ, laborers, herdsmen, guano, kelp, etc., which are useful to men. gardeners, stablemen, cooks, chambermaids, ev­ years the Indian production of quinine will be so erybody declined to do any work for the offend­ Seidlitz Powders (Aperient).—Tartrate of soda, large and the price so low that it will become a ing family. The butcher would not supply meat, two drachms, carbonate of ditto, two scruples; considerable article of export. nor the baker bread. There were splendid crops mix, and put it in a blue paper; tartaric acid, ready to he gathered, but not a laborer was per­ A Paper House.—The Sydney Exhibition has in mitted to come near the grounds. There was no thirty-five grains, to be put in white paper. Mix in half a pint of water. it a house built and furnished from paper. The violence or intimidation. So the government was structure is one story high, and its skeleton is appealed to, and troops were sent with laborers to Jet Black Varnish.—To make a jet black varnish made of wood. The exterior is molded in carton- gather the crops. The movement spread; wher­ for small wood handles, that will make them ever a landlord was unjust to his tenant he was pierre, while the interior is covered with the same " Boycotted.” The people made up their minds smooth and shining and hard and solid, so that material, being plain on the floor, forming splen­ that the cruel land laws of England should not they will not get dim by handling or lose their did arabesques on the walls, and molded in imi­ be enforced hi Ireland. This has put the Eng- gloss, take of asphaltum, three ounces; boiled oil, tation of plaster on the ceiling. The doors, cup­ lish Government In a dilemma. Minister Glad­ four quarts; burnt umber, eight ounces; and stone, John Bright. and the leading liberals wish boards, and shelves are of the same material, to do justice to Ireland. But the landlord and enough oil of turpentine to thin. The three first while the entire furniture, including chandeliers property interests of England demand coercion, must be mixed by the aid of heat, and the turpen- and a stove, in which a fire can be lighted, is made the setting aside of the habeas corpus. And the Uoe gradually added—out of doors and away from of papier-mache. The carpets and curtains are of legal punishment of those who defy laws. fire—before the mixture has cooled. The work— paper, and there is a bedroom in which there is But the trouble is that there Is no real defiance dry—is given several costs, each being hardened of the laws. It is a strike of the people against not only a large bed made of papier-mache, but landlords who have the legal power to oppress In a japanners oven. The last coat may be rubbed there are also blankets, sheets, and female under­ and make their tenants miserable. How all this down, first with tripoli applied on a soft cloth, clothing, dresses and bonnets, in the latest style, will result is hard to foretell. But Great Brit­ then with a few drops of oil. composed solely of carton-plate. It is proposed ain ought to legislate in the interest of the com­ mon people, and do full justice to poor old Ire­ Washing Linen in France.—Any one who has to give a series of banquets in this building, in land. ever been In France msut have observed the snowy which the plates, dishes, knives, forks, and glasses The English Way, You Know. whiteness of the peasant women’s caps and aprons. will all be of paper. The habit of Imitating English ways of doing This is obtained by first roughly washing the Milk for Fowls—A correspondent of the A m eri­ things Is at present the prevailing mania among clothes. They are then placed In layers in a large can Poultry- Yard gives the following bit of expe­ young Americans who have traveled abroad. Our tab which has a bunghole in the bottom. Some rience : “ A neighbor of ours, whose hens, to our young fellows come back wearing narrow brimmed course sacking is next laid over the top, and on exasperation, kept on laying when eggs were for­ English hats, trowsers and vests of tweed, loud that a thick layer of wood ashes. Upon the ashes ty-five cents per dozen, while ours persistently laid neckties, and the smallest of canes. They set up boiling water is then poured, which passes through coaching clubs In Imitation of English snobs, go off during the same season, on being questioned, to the races in green veils and white overcoats. the clothes and is let out at the bunghole, carry­ revealed the fact that bis hens had a pailful of They dine on Southdown mutton and drink Lon­ ing with It all grease and other Impurities. This skimmed milk each day, and no other drink. On don porter. They even Imitate the English in process is repeated until the linen Is whiter than comparing notes, we each found that our manage­ conversation, and occasionally drop their h’s to milk. ment of our fowls was almost exactly alike, with give an Impression that they were born within the sound of Bow Bells. A Tattersalls has been Charcoal and Its Uses —Charcoal, laid flat while this single difference—a difference that put many opened In New York on Broadway for dealing cold on a burn, will cause the pain to abate. a dollar to the credit side of his ledger, while our In horses after the London pattern. An archi­ Tainted meat, surrounded with it, Is sweetened; own was left blank during the same period; and tect was applied to by one of these Britainized strewn over heaps of decomposed pelts, or over this thing had been going on for years, with the young Americans, and he was told " We want, you dead animals, It prevents any unpleasant odor. result always In favor of a milk diet. In cases know, to build a Hinglish Tattersalls, you know; we want the fellows, you know, to feel as If they Foul water Is purified by It. It sweetens offensive where milk is very plentiful, and only a portion is were In Lunnun, you know. ’Ave everything air if placed in shallow trays around apartments. needed for fowls, it would be well, say once a made after the Hinglish pattern, you know. Then It Is so porous that It absorbs and condenses gases week or oftener, to give the milk in the form of there s the bricks, you know, for the floors, you most rapidly. One cubic inch of fresh charcoal curd, by heating It until the whey separates from can import them, you know, from Hingland.” will absorb nearly one hundred cubic inches of the more solid portions. This is very nutritious, But the architect. explaining that they made bet- t e r brick in this country than in England, and gaseous ammonia. Charcoal forms an unrivaled and its constituents so nearly resemble the white that they cost one-third as much, actually poultice for malignant wounds and sores. In of the egg that egg-formation must naturally fol­ lost the contract, because he would not waste cases of what is called “ proud flesh ” it Is invalua­ low its use. Let no one hesitate to take from his good money in bringing bricks from London. ble. It hurts no texture, injures no color, and is waste milk whatever his hens will use, assured He didn’t, know, you know.” But the American a simple and safe sweetener and disinfectant. that they will yield five times over the returns Tattersails has been built for the accommodation of rich gentlemen who want to buy and sell horses Uses of the Potato.—In France potato farina is that swine or any other stock would give for the after the English manner. largely used for culinary purposes. The famous same amount.” 4 8 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

Cream Sponge Cake.—Two eggs, half a cup of j then of dark, upon the bottom of the pan in which cream, one cup of sugar, one cup of flour, one tea­ t is to be baked, and so proceed until the pan is spoonful of cream of tartar, half a teaspoonful of full. soda ; flavor to taste. Spiced Marble Cake.—The whites of seven eggs, Bread Cake.—One pint of sponge, two teacups three cups of white sugar, one cup of butter, four of sugar, one teacup of butter, three eggs, one cups of flour, one cup of sour cream, a small tea- NEW YEAR’S TABLES. tcaspoonful of soda, fruit, spice to taste; flour spoonful of soda. depends upon the thickness of the sponge. The yolks of seven eggs, two cups of brown The table of refreshments which is set for New Year’s callers, should adapt itself to the tastes of Sponge Cake.—Seven eggs, whites and yolks to­ sugar, one cup of molasses with a small teaspoon­ gentlemen, and not be furnished wholly with gether, three-quarters of a pound of sugar dis­ ful of soda in it, one cup of butter, five cups of sweets or confectionery. It may be simple, but solved in half a tumbler of water, let it melt and flour, one cup of sour cream, one te a s p o o n of if showing only a few dishes, let those few be sub­ just come to a b o il; half a pound of flour, one soda; cloves, allspice, cinnamon to taste. Half stantial rather than otherwise. teaspoonful of yeast powder, one teaspoonful ex­ this quantity of dark is sufficient for the white tract of lemon ; beat eggs and sugar together until top and bottom. A VERY PLAIN TABLE. very light, then add the flour. Connecticut Loaf Cake —Six pounds of flour, SANDWICHES, SARDINES, BOLOGNA SAUSAGE, Silver Cake.—Two cups of fine white sugar, two three pounds of sugar, three pounds of butter, CHEESE, PICKLES, BISCUITS, and a half cups of sifted flour, half a cup of but­ one and a half pounds of mace, five eggs, three COFFEE. ter, three-quarters of a cup of sweet milk, the pounds of raisins stoned, four nutmegs, one pint whites of eight eggs, half a teaspoonful of soda, of home-made yeast, two lemons, one wineglass AN ORDINARY TABLE. quarter of a teaspoonful of cream of tartar ; flavor of pickled fruit syrup; beat half the quantity of PICKLED OYSTERS, SANDWICHES, with either almond or lemon. butter and sugar to a cream, add the flour wet with half the quantity of yeast; mix it quite soft, OLIVES, MIXED PICKLES, Gold Cake.—Cream one cup of sugar, and three BISCUITS, COLD CHICKEN, HAM, SARDINES, and let it stand till risen very light; add the rest quarters of a cup of butter together very light, of the ingredients, and let it rise again, then FRUIT, CAKE, JELLY, add half a cup of milk, the yolks of eight eggs TEA, COFFEE, LEMONADE. stir in lightly the raisins dredged with flour, and beat very light, two cups of sifted flour, half a bake. The above will make eight loaves. teaspoonful of soda, one teaspoonful of cream of TABLE WHERE TWO HUNDRED CALLERS tartar; flavor with lemon. Martha Washington Tea Cake.—One and one- ARE EXPECTED. Lady Cake.—One pound of sugar, three-quarters quarter pounds of white sugar, one and one-half COLD TURKEY AND HAM, of a pound of butter, one pound of flour, whites pounds of butter, two pounds of flour, one pint of GAME PIE, of sixteen eggs beaten light; cream the butter sour milk, six eggs, grated rind of two lemons PICKLED OYSTERS, SANDWICHES, and sugar together, then mix the eggs three or and the juice of one lemon, one nutmeg, a little CHICKEN SALAD, four at a time, then the flour. mace, one pound of raisins, one pound of cur­ OLIVES, PICKLES, BISCUITS, rants, one and a half pounds of citron. Whip the Hickory-nut Cake—One and a half cups of butter and sugar to a cream, to which add the CANDIED FRUITS AND JELLIES, sugar, half a cup of butter, two cups of flour, CAKES AND FRESH FRUITS, yolks of the eggs well beaten; then put in the three-fourths of a cup of sweet milk, one cup of milk and flour alternately; then the whites of the MOTTOES, hickory-nuts, one teaspoonful of cream of tartar, COFFEE, CHOCOLATE, TEA. eggs beaten to a fro th ; have the fruit flavored and one-half teaspoonful of soda, whites of four eggs. stir in last. Bake two and one-fourth hours, TABLE WHERE GENTLEMEN LIKE TO Cocoa-nut Cake-—One pound of fine sugar, half a cover with buttered paper to keep from browning LUNCH. pound of butter, three-quarters of a pound of too fast. This recipe is said to have been used by flour, six eggs, one large or two small cocoa-nuts; DRESSED SALMON, Mrs. Martha Washington. cream the butter and 6ugar together, add the Maccaroons.—One pound of Punched almonds CREAMED OYSTERS (h o t), yolks of the eggs, then the whites, then the flour; PICKLED OYSTERS AND SARDINES, pounded fine in a mortar, whites of four eggs mix well, and just before baking add cocoa-nut; whipped to a stiff froth, two and a half pounds SANDWICHES OF VEAL AND HAM CHOPPED TO­ bake in two long tins. GETHER, of sifted leaf sugar; mix all well together, then . GAME PIE, Lemon Cake.—One cup of butter and three cups add the whites of ten more eggs, beat all together COLD CHICKEN AND HAM, of sugar, beat to a froth yolks of five eggs, whites until very light; drop with a spoon on stiff white OLIVES, beaten separately, juice and rind of one lemon paper, and lay in a baking tin in a slow oven, after SMALL GRAHAM CRACKERS AND ROQUEFORT grated, four cups of of flour, one cup of milk, one having dropped upon each a few small bits of CHEESE, WHITE GRAPES, teaspoonful of soda. sliced alnonds. TEA, COFFEE, CHOCOLATE. Bride’s Cake.—Two cups of sugar, one-half cup Icing.—The whites of four eggs to a pound of of butter, the whites of five eggs beaten to a stiff powdered sugar is a good rule for icing; beat till DINNER FOR LADIES ON NEW YEAR’S froth, one cup of cold water; mix well together; very light, stir in the sugar by slow degrees, flavor DAY . then add three cups of flour into which one tea­ with lemon or vanilla to taste, and spread on the C o l d R o a s t TURKEY, spoon of soda and two of cream of tartar have cake with a knife, dipped in cold w ater; set in a LYONAISE POTATOES, CRANBERRY SAUCE, been stirred ; beat briskly for two minutes; flavor cool oven to harden. with almond, and bake in a quick oven ; frost the CELERY, To Ornament Cakes.—To make any kind of orna­ COLD PARTRIDGE WITH JELLY, top. ment for cakes -the icing must be perfectly smooth, MINCE PIES WITHOUT MEAT, Coffee Cake—“ Very Nice.’’—Two teacups of su­ and is fit for use when it retains a given shape. FRUIT, gar, one teacup of molasses, one teacup of butter, Only simple tools are required for even a rich CHEESE, CIDER, COFFEE. one teacup of cold coffee, five cups of flour, four ornamentation of cakes, and practised hands can eggs, two teaspoonfuls of cloves, mace, cinna­ This dinner can be eaten at convenience, and accomplish great things with a paper funnel. This mon, half a pound of chopped raisins, two tea­ is made like a grocer’s cone sugar-bag, with an will not suffer by waiting. Moreover, a friend of spoonfuls of soda. the family may be invited to partake, if one should opening at the point large enough to admit of the happen to drop in at the right time. Marbled Cake—Two Cards.—Light part.—One required size of ornament being forced through We subjoin a variety of receipts for cakes spe­ and a half cups of light sugar, half a cup of but­ it. Tin tubes of various sizes and shapes are to cially desired for New Year’s and New Year’s ter, half a cup of sweet milk, half a teaspoonful be bought, to be fitted as nozzels to paper funnels; parties, obtained, many of them, from original of soda, one teaspoonful of cream of tartar, whites those of French make are the best. To make a of four eggs, two and a half cups of flour; beat piping or a running pattern on a cake, put some sources. the eggs with the sugar, add the butter melted, icing into a paper funnel, and, holding it in much Orange Cake.—Two cups of flour, two cups of put the soda, cream and milk together, then add the same manner as a pen, press out, but not too sugar, half a cup of water, the yolks of five eggs the flour. near the point, in the desired pattern. This can and whites of four, two teaspoonfuls of yeast Dark Part.—One cup of brown sugar, half a cup be varied by using a tin tube in the paper funnel, powder, grated rind and juice of one orange. of molasses, half a cup of butter, half a cup of with the point slit so as to mark the sugar as it is White Mountain Cake.—One pound of flour, sour milk, half a teaspoonful of soda, one tea­ pressed out. Tubes for shaping leaves and flow­ one pound of sugar, one-half pound of butter, one spoonful of cream of tartar, yolks of four eggs, ers are made, and to use these' it is necessary to cup of sweet milk, the whites of ten eggs, two two and a half cups of flour, one teaspoonful of have a lesson, in order to secure a uniform pattern, even teaspoonfuls of yeast powder; bake like jel­ cloves, one of cinnamon, one of nutmeg, one of and even letters on a christening, birthday, or ly cake. Put iceing and grated cocoanuts between allspice; beat and mix same as the light part. Twelfth cake; it will be well for an inexperienced the layers. Same over the top and sides. When each part is ready, drop a spoonful of light, hand first to trace the design lightly with a pencil. SPECIALITE OF FASHIONS. We invite the attention of ladies particularly to the original and special character o f the Designs and Styles in Dress furnished in this Magazine. In this department it has always been acknowledged unrivaled. Unlike other Magazines, it does not merely copy. It obtains the fullest intelli­ gence from advanced sources abroad, and unites to these high artistic ability, and a thorough knowledge o f what is required by our more refined and elevated taste at home. Besides, its instructions are not confined to mere descriptions o f elaborate and special toilets, but embrace important information for dealers, and valuable hints to mothers, dressmakers, and ladies generally, who wish to preserve economy in their wardrobes, dress becomingly, and keep themselves informed of the changes in the Fashions and the specialties required in the exercise of good taste.

ALWAYS FIRST PREMIUM.

CENTENNIAL AWARD OVER ALL COMPETITORS, MEDAL OF SUPERIORITY AT THE PARIS EXPOSITION.

If we do wear a long dress for an hour or so at an Review of Fashions. evening entertainment, or if some of us do, it is of Models for the Month. There is very little to complain of in the little consequence, as during this period we are, so In our illustrated designs for the present month fashions of to-day even by the most inveterate to speak, relieved, off duty, with only the necessity will be found several cloaks in the new pelisse grumblers, for there is no fashion that is unwise laid upon us of smiling, chatting, performing the forms, and toilets both for . reception and walking that is obligatory. In fact, day fashions, fashions social duty of making ourselves as pleasant to the purposes. The “ Giulietta ” is an example of an for the street, impose upon all women a simple, eye and agreeable to the mind as possible. elaborate costume for formal dinners or recep­ short, sensible dress, if they will wear it, and per­ Those persons who feel that they have a mission tions. It is a very stylish combination of brocade mits them to envelop themselves in a straight, on the subject of dress would be better employed with satin or velvet, though we should consid­ protective garment, which requires no more in directing their efforts toward the folly of rich er velvet too heavy to be used in conjunction with care or thought than a man’s overcoat. It women who accept as unalterable the decrees of brocade for a dress so fully trimmed, and should is true that there are dresses with long trains, and any standard-bearers of fashion which are opposed recommend instead satin or satin de Lyon. The masses of ruffles accompanied by bodices cut as to common sense—decrees which are often in design, it will be seen, is suited for combinations, small as possible, and sleeves which are either direct violation of the requirements of health, and however, of many different kinds. The front may gossamer or no sleeve at all. But it is not neces- the principles of physiology. “ Everything is vel­ be of brocade to match the princess casaquin, or it sary that all women should wear such dresses, and vet and fur this season,” remarked one lady to maybe of draped satin, with rows of fringe or lace, as a matter of fact they don’t. Only a very small another. “ Yes,” replied her friend; “ and what and fringe to form the divisions, or it may be minority wear very costly dresses, and out of this to do with my clothes I do not know. I never cut of cloth of gold, the brocade being gold upon a still smaller number have them made with tight could endure much weight or warmth, and there a black or red ground, and the solid fabric black bodies and short sleeves, or without sleeves. have only been a few days when my heavy suit and or red. We would not advise satin even in a dif­ The majority of women are fast settling down cloak have been endurable.” This is paying a ferent color for the tablier if satin is used for the to some permanent ideas in regard to dress, and very high price for discomfort, and because it is solid part of the train, unless it is enriched with it could be done much better and more rapidly if said to be the fashion by one or two interested hand embroidery so as to give the appearance of it were not for ignorant would-be reformers, who individuals, and echoed by their ignorant clientele, a flowered fabric. A very fine effect may be pro­ know nothing of the subject, but are possessed seems to be a very poor reason for persevering in duced, however, by employing wide bands of with the antiquated notion that fashion is folly, and what is so bad a bargain for one’s self. embroidered satin, and separating them with their particular hobby wisdom, and keep hammer­ Let those who would teach women anything in fine knife-plaitings of plain satin covered with ing at it, totally oblivious of what has been accom­ regard to their clothes, teach them independence chenille or knotted silk fringe. The design is plished, and of course giving no credit for it. This and self-reliance. Teach them to choose such lovely in ivory white, in two shades of heliotrope, is not only discouraging, it is false, and discredits materials for wear as are suitable to time, place, in primrose, or in all black, in the latter case their judgment even where it is sound. Luxury, ele­ and circumstance, and to the health and comfort beaded fringe and embroidery adds greatly to the gance, and refinement will always exist, it is to be of their own bodies. There is no excuse now in effect, and in the former cases pearled or white hoped,and certainly there is no prospect at present want of proper fabrics. There is every variety of jetted lace and fringe may be applied to the pur­ of any decrease In the growth of wealth and its in­ soft wool, silk, satin, and rich piled velvet; but poses of decoration. About twenty-two yards evitable concomitants in this country. Naturally there is nothing so suitable as wool for street and a half of satin and brocade are required, very it will find its expression in dress; it is part of the wear, for those at least who have to walk and nearly divided as to quantity, and three yards law of things that it must be so ; it is useless work, and that is the majority of women. The and a quarter of fringe for the trimming of the therefore to rail at what cannot be helped, and few who ride in carriages may wear velvet and fur, apron. The “ Beloeca ” train may be arranged in that is right, if whatever is, is light. A long dress for the burden of caring for it is not superadded less costly materials, and requires smaller quanti­ is a suitable dress under certain circumstances, to the necessity for exertion; but wool is more ties, although it must be remembered that the and it is not necessarily a weighty dress. Some pleasant as well as more healthful, and to lose “ train” does not include a basque or bodice, long dresses, particularly those made recently, and the exhilaration of daily exercise upon one’s own and is mounted upon a lining. Sixteen yards of rich materials are distinguished by being per­ feet is scarcely compensated by the wearing of a and a half will make this graceful trained fectly plain, and are as quiet and gentle as they richer fabric. Certainly, there are many sides to skirt, divided into eleven and a half of domaa- are graceful. the dress question nowadays,and to look at it from sd for the train and apron drapery, and plait­ But the great fact remains, that it is the short one side solely is to do it great injustice, and ex­ ings at the edge of the train, and five for dress which is the every-day dress, the all-day hibits our own ignorance, rather than our know­ panels, and ruffles in front. These last may dress, the one In which we walk, and work, and live. ledge. be of silk or satin in combination with the D .- 1 7 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

damasse, and the toilet completed by a basque convenient for the handkerchief, also for the small of the damasse, open in front, or cat square with purse which holds change. It is finished with an elbow sleeves. All wool and velvet may be used elegant cord and tassel. The amount of material to reproduce this design very handsomely. Dark required is only three-eighths of a yard twenty myrtle green cashmere, for example, for the drap inches wide, half a yard of the same width for the ery, and velvet of the same shade for panels, lining, and these quantities include sufficient for ruffles, plaitings, and basque ; or, instead of myr­ the pocket. tle, use the dark shade of heliotrope or wine color. There is a very graceful wrapper to which we The “ Patricia ” and “ Stellina ” costumes are desire to call attention because it is a pretty examples of walking dresses adapted to woolen design for spring chintz as well as winter cash- and combination materials. The “ Stellina ’’ is a mere. It is lovely in white or pale blue flannnel princess design in front, but a basque at the or cashmere, and it is, perhaps, still more appro­ back, and to this basque the drapery is attached, priate in satin foulard, chintz, or figured louis- which constitutes in effect the back of the skirt, ine. Too much lace cannot be put on a wrapper, and may be arranged over a lining set in to the at least on a handsome one, and therefore the side seams, and finished on the bottom with a trimming en cascade and upon the edge of the deep kilted flounce. One side of the front of the ruffles will not be considered out of place. dress is buttoned over upon the back, and the drapery, which forms a pointed tablier, secured by a loop; on the other is a cascade of ribbon. Deep collar and cuffs of the trimming material finish the neck and sleeves. The “ Patricia ” is a simple walking skirt and polonaise, the latter cut in the form of a coat with breadths attached, which are turned up and fas­ tened in regular plaits under a large double bow. Flannel or suiting will serve for this costume if of nice quality, and only eight yards of the usual width (forty-eight inches) will be required. Stitching may be employed instead of braid. GIULIETTA TOILET. The “ Sarita ” polonaise is recommended as a useful and easily arranged design for house mate­ G iulietta T o ilet,—An elegant design for a Winter Costumes. rials of any soft and graceful style. Plain wool, reception or dinner dress, arranged with a close- corded cotton, striped or Surah silk are all suita­ fitting casaquin, rather short and rounded off on Fig. 1.—Mack satin de Lyon street costume, ble fabrics, and may be finished upon the edge the front and sides, but extending in prin­ completed by the addition of the “ Alexandria ” with bordering of plush, of velvet, of embroidery, cess form at the back nearly to the end of the pelisse, made of black Antwerp silk, richly or lace. About eight yards of the material are long, full train, giving the effect of a double train, trimmed with jetted passementeries and fringe, and required for the whole design, unless made in un­ and ornamented with two draped sashes, crossing la plaque and cuffs of silk plush. “ Paola” muff bleached linen, when seven would be found suffi­ it en torsade and confining in moderately bouffant o f garnet plush, lined with pale pink satin, and cient. Bands and a collar of linen embroidered drapery. The train, is peculiarly graceful, and is ornamented with a garnet and pink silk cordelier in crewels would trim it very nicely. cut in a manner to throw all the fullness at the Red plush bonnet, trimmed with a bird of para­ The two new and elegant cloaks illustrated are back. The neck is cut heart-shaped in front, and dise and Colored cashmere beads ; strings of gar­ very graceful specimens of the most admired the Marquise sleeves only reach to, the elbows. net satin merveilleux, lined with pink, and finished pelisse forms. The “ Alexandria” is simple yet This design is especially suitable for the richest on the ends with Alencon lace. Pattern of pelisse very distinguished, owing-to its length and pecu­ materials and is very appropriate for a combina­ in two sizes, medium and large. Price, thirty liar shapeliness. Its parts are few in number, the tion ; and may be trimmed as illustrated, with cents each. Pattern of muff, fifteen cents. sleeves being formed by an extension of the back plaitings and Jetted tulle and fringe on the front, pieces, and the whole amount required for the or in any other way to suit the taste and material Fig. 2.—The “ Vladimir’’ pelisse is here illus­ cloak is only two yards and three-eighths of goods employed. Price of pattern, thirty cents each trated, completing a visiting toilet of dahlia satin forty-eight inches wide. Upon this may be trim­ size. de L y o n . The pelisse is of black sicilienne, lined med cuffs and a long gored-sbaped plaque at the and "trimmed "with plush and heavy triple corde- back, which will require one yard more of a mate­ libres of silk ornamented with jet. Bonnet of he­ rial twenty-four inches wide. The materials used liotrope satin and gold-beaded tulle, with prelat may be sicilienne and plush, velvet, or satin for violet satin strings, and trimmed on the left side trimming, to which may be added a rich fringe, with a cluster of Parma violets. Tea-rose colored and eight yards of passementerie. The lining gloves. Pattern of pelisse in two sizes, medium should be plush. and large. Price, thirty cents each. The “ Vladimir" pelisse is more In the long dolman style, and requires rather more material. Fig. 8.—Veronese-green cloth street costume. It may be made in fine dark tricot or di­ The design used is the “ Patricia ” costume, a agonal cloth, bordered with woolen beaver plush, simple and stylish model. The skirt of cloth is a substitute for fur; or for a richer cloak heavy edged with a narrow plaiting of Veronese-green silk or sicilienne, satin de Lyon, or silk matelasse satin, and the polonaise is trimmed with a sepa­ are equally suitable, with handsome fur or silk rate breadth of dark green plush lined with satin. plush for a trimming, and an additional garniture The front is closed under passementerie ornaments, of heavy cords and tassels. If the material were and rows of braids are stitched plainly all around cloth with reversible beaver side no lining would the dress. Dark green felt hat, trimmed with be required, but if it is silk or a silken fabric of shaded gold colored plumes. Strings of old-gold any kind, plush or fur will be the proper lining. satin merveilleux, finished at the ends with point de Among the secondary designs is a pretty hood Brabant lace. The “ Olga ” muff of dark green which may be copied by a clever seamstress with ANGELA HOOD. plush, lined with old gold satin merveilleux, and or without a pattern, and is one of the most grace­ trimmed with Veronese-green and gold-colored ful of the capuchin forms. One yard of material A ngela H o o d ,—An especially stylish model satin ribbon. Muff pattern, fifteen cents. Pat­ for the hood, one also for the lining, both ordi­ of the favorite capuchin, now so fashionable. It tern of costume, thirty cents each size. nary (that is, twenty-four inches) width, makes may be made of the same material as the jacket it with the addition of the cord and tassel attach­ or wrap with which it is worn, and is most effect­ ment. The “ Paola ” muff is another variety of ive with the lining and revers of a different mate­ the pretty, fanciful style of muffs which are at rial. The cordeliers is the most suitable ornament, LADIES w h o HAVE NOT SUBSCRIBED for 1881 present so fashionable, and which are made in but a bow of satin ribbon may be substituted if do bo at once; the names are rushing In at a rate rich trimming stuffs to match costumes. This desired. Pattern a medium size. Price, fifteen which will soon exhaust the first edition of Miss has an exterior pocket which will be found most cents. Fothergill's new story. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE 3

Winter COSTUMES DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE,

NEW DESIGNS IN LADIES’ SETS (Actual Sizes.) No. 1.—A lace-pin and ear-rings of “ rolled ” and rosetted flowers of silver and frosted gold, Tam o’ Shanter Cap. gold and Byzantine mosaic. The setting is com­ with a polished gold ball in the center of each posed of delicate filigree work and polished gold, flower. The center of the pin is a semicircle of Materials, 5 oz. of Germantown wool, single and in the center of the pin is a square medallion polished gold, from which is suspended a swing­ zephyr, or Angora wool, the latter imparting a of Byzautine mosaic representing a white dove ing medallion of Byzantine mosaic, with a floral hairy appearance. Bone crochet hook, middle size, with gold wings, and small flowers upon a dark blue design of red and yellow roses, myosotis, and white say No. 8 to 10. The cap is worked throughout in ground, surrounded by a band of highly polished jessamine on a black ground, set in an oval of pol­ single crochet into the stitch, not into the loop of gold. The ear-drops match in design. The pol­ ished gold. The ear-rings match in design. All the chain. When the 9th round has been reached, ished gold is all solid. Price, $7.25 for the set. the polished gold that is seen is solid. Price $8 it is a good plan to tie a piece of white cotton into for the set. a stitch; it will be of great use in marking the No. 3,—An artistic design for a lace-pin and ear­ commencement of each round, and save trouble. drops, having Watteau paintings on copper, set in No. 5.—A Byzantine set of entirely novel and Make a ring of 6 chain.—1st round. Work 10 “ rolled ” gold. The pin is of dead gold, with or­ elegant design, consisting of a lace-pin with swing­ stitches into the ring.—2d round. Work round, naments of filigree and polished gold. In the ing pendant, and ear-drops of “ rolled ” gold, set 2 stitches in each stitch.—3d round. Work round, center a painting, representing a shepherdess up­ with Byzantine mosaic medallions. The pin is of 2 stitches in every 3d stitch.—4th to 7th round. on a silvery background, is set as a square medal­ dead gold, with ornaments of polished gold and Work round, 2 stitches in every 4th stitch.—8th lion in highly polished gold. The ear-rings match filigree. The pendant swings from the center of to 12th round. Work round, 2 stitches in every in design. All the polished gold that is seen is the bar, and is set with a mosaic, representing a 12th stitch.—13th to 23d round. Work round, 2 solid. Price, $8 for the set bird of paradise in many colored stones upon a stitches in every 16th stitch.—24th to 29th round. black ground, in an oval medallion of highly pol­ Work round, 2 stitches in every 28th stitch.—30th No, 3.—An especially handsome set, comprising ished gold. The ear-rings are of corresponding round. Work round without increasing.—31st to a lace-pin and ear-rings of “ rolled ” gold of Byzan­ design. All the polished gold is solid. Price, $9 36th round. Work round, decreasing by omitting tine design, set with floral medallions of Byzantine for the set. every 28th stitch.—37th to 47th round. Work mosaic in dark blue. The lace-pin is of dead gold, rounc, decreasing by omitting every 10th stitch. with ornaments In filigree and polished gold. In No. ft.—A lace-pin and ear-drops of tl rolled ” —48th round. Work round, increasing by work­ the center a medallion of mosaic, representing gold, set with cameos, compose this pretty set. ing 2 in every 6th stitch.—49th to 56th round. roses and Jessamine upon a dark blue ground, is The pin is a bar of highly polished gold, with Work round, without increasing or decreasing. set in an oval of polished gold* The ear-rings ornaments of frosted gold. In the center is a These last seven rows should be worked tighter match in design. All the polished gold that is cameo representing a Grecian head cut in profile, than the rest of the*cap. seen is solid. Price, $7.25 for the set set in a raised oval of polished gold. The ear­ To make the tuft, wind a sufficient quantity rings match in design, and the oval medallion of yam on a piece of cardboard about 2 inches No. 4 —An elegant set, comprising a lace-pin forms a swinging pendant. All the polished gold wide; withdraw the cardboard, and then bind the and ear-drops of Byzantine mosaics set In “ rolled" that is seen is solid. Price, $6 for the set. center of the yarn with 5 or 6 turns of carpet gold. The pin represents a latticed bar of dead All of these goods are of the best quality of thread, tying it tightly ; then out the ends of each gold crossed with polished gold bars near the material and workmanship, and many of the de­ loop of the yarn, and trim the hall or tuft to ends, and ornamented with tiny gold halls, scrolls, signs are fac-similes of those made in solid gold. shape. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 5

VINETTA WRAPPER. GINETTA WALKING SKIRT. Vinetta W rapper.—An elegant and graceful and may be trimmed, as illustrated, with a plaque the richest materials, especially those which drape design, especially becoming to tall, slender figures. of plush to simulate a hood, and passementerie and gracefully. Price of pattern, thirty cents. The wrapper is tight-fitting, cut in “ Princess ” fringe; or in any other style to correspond with style, with a single dart in each front, side forms the material selected. Pattern in two sizes, G in e tta W alking S k irt.—Simple and grace­ rounding to the armholes, and a double ‘‘Wat­ medium and large. Price, thirty cents each. ful in arrangement, this design is short enough to teau ” plait at the back. It is suitable for almost escape the ground all around, the back breadths any kind of dress goods, and the trimming can be straight and full, and the front and sides slightly selected to correspond with the material em­ B elocca T ra in .—Very unique in style, this gored. The short, fully draped apron is orna­ ployed. This design is an excellent one to be graceful trained skirt is cut the usual walking mented at the sides by an upright shirring laid used for a domino, and is so illustrated with the length on the front and sides, and in a long, round on over the plaits; and the bottom of the skirt is fancy costumes. train at the back. The front is trimmed with a finished with a plaiting two inches deep, and a long apron, draped high in the middle over a suc­ band six inches wide of contrasting material com­ A lex an d ria P e lisse .—This singularly grace­ cession of gathered raffles; the sides are orna­ pletes the trimming. The back breadths are shir­ ful yet simple design is cut in sacque shape with mented with plaited panels extending to the bot­ red at the top. This design is appropriate for all loose fronts, the back fitted with a seam down the tom of the skirt, and the back is draped full, over dress materials, and is particularly suitable to be middle, and extensions at the sides of the back a lining, in a novel and graceful manner. The worn with a round waist and belt. It is most ef­ pieces forming the sleeves. This model is desira­ train is edged all around with three narrow plait­ fective with the apron and the band of figured ble for the richest materials used for heavy wraps, ings ; and the panels and drapery are ornamented material, and the rest of the skirt of plain goods, especially for those to be lined with fur or plush, with large Bebe bows. The design is adapted to as illustrated. Price of pattern, thirty cents.

ALEXANDRIA PELISSE. BELOCCA TRAIN. DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

arc of rich satin “ sublime" (a soft, thick, corded Reception Toilet. satin), trimmed with pointed fur, or with natural A reception or dinner drees of beaver. The blue, gray, and silver fox furs are satin brocade and velvet. The design used for light cloths mainly, or for velvet; and illustrated is the “ Giulietta ” toilet, the chinchilla, for Antwerp silk and satin; al­ with long, full train of vin de Bordeaux though, of course, silver fox may be used with velvet, and apron of pale salmon-pink great distinction for satin and rich silk also; and satin trimmed with three flounces of the black and “ pointed” (or dark furs set thickly opal-beaded tulle, edged with a fringe with white hairs) upon all black fabrics by those of the same cashmere beads falling who wish to preserve the “ all black ” character over satin plaitings. The tulle is as nearly as possible, in a street garment. The embroidered in a beautiful floral de­ point of our remarks is this, that nearly all of sign. The casaquin, of ruby satin this class of fur-trimmed gar­ brocaded with pink and opalescent ments are for dress purposes, flowers is short in front, but reaches more or less elegant and fanci­ nearly to the end of the train in the ful ; for fur is by no means hack, where it is confined with two the only trimming, it is supple­ draped sashes of brocade and pink mented by wrought clasps and satin, crossing it en torsade. The handsome passementeries, by neck is cut heart-shaped in front, rich contrasts of color, and and the casaquin is ornamented with all the elegance imparted by a pointed plastron of opal-beaded tulle. depth and harmony of tone The marquise sleeves are trimmed in the most splendid materi­ with a narrow band of velvet and als. Fur-lined wraps are a ruffles of Alencon lace. Salmon-pink class by themselves. They are gloves and gold bracelets. Pink satin always ortonde in shape, and slippers with gilt buckles. The confined to black silk, sicil- double illustration of this toilet is ienne, or satin de Lyon, with shown among the separate fashions. lining of whole squirrel, and Price of pattern, thirty cents each a collar of dark or chinchilla give. fur. They are most useful ------♦-*-*------for “ wraps,” that is for a cloak that can easily be taken Fashions in Furs. off and put on. They are in­ The noticeable change in the use valuable for theater, or after­ of fur as an element in a lady’s toilet, noon concert, or reception is the variety and. adaptability. There purposes—for occasions where was a time, not so very remote, unusual warmth is required though perhaps not within the mem­ to protect a lady from expo­ ory of die younger women of this sure in a thinner dress than generation, when a muff and a pel- she is accustomed to wear­ erine, or “ Victorina,” as it was called, ing. They are almost too was the standard “ set, ” and a lady warm for regular street wear, thus provided, particularly if the excepting in the coldest weath­ articles were composed of Russian er, and too “ old” for very sable, or even dark, several-striped young ladies. The fur-lined mink, was happy, and relieved from jacket, or the cloth coat with all care, so far as furs were con sealskin collar, cap, and cerned, for two or three years at muff, is a more suitable outfit. least. We recommend an inspection But fashions in furs have changed by our stylish readers of the with other fashions; Russian sable, very attractive novelties in always very costly, became less de­ furs at the well-kuown fur- sirable, when styles became liable to house of C. G. Gunther, the more frequent modification, and seal- oldest in New York. skin in time displaced even the pop­ ular mink. At present, sealskin is undoubtedly the most fashionable of RECEPTION TOILET furs, if fashion means the patronage of a majority of, well-dressed people; and, upon the whole, it cause of its effect hi heightening the charms and deserves the ascendency it has obtained. Its distinction of Its stylish wearers. It is not much The Combination Underwear. rich, dark depth of color, its softness and refine­ more in reality than a lengthening of an elegantly The whole undergarments are making rapid ment, its adaptability to the smaller and larger shaped sealskin jacket, a garment which has been headway, because ladies are becoming more and garments, and to almost every general and pur­ gradually undergoing improvement in shape, and more averse to multiplied and unnecessary folds pose, render it the most convenient, as it is one of style since its first appearance among us. Cer­ and ridges about the waist, a condition directly the most becoming and beautifying of furs. tainly, in buying, it is better to buy a coat than a opposed to smoothness and elegance of outline. There are two special kinds of fur garments, jacket, for a coat can be reduced in length much The fewer pieces into which clothing Is divided and two distinct uses to which they can be p u t: easier than a short jacket can be lengthened. the more convenient and practical, and in this one Is the fur garment to be taken off, the other A long fur coat, a small fur muff, and a fur cap case the more true and harmonious it becomes. the fur garment to be kept on. The first should make a decidedly Russian outfit; but one very be a fur-lined garment; the outside, silk, sicilienne. suitable for a Western or a Canadian winter, if satin de Lyon, or matelasse satin; the second not so desirable for New York. should be a fur cloak, or coat, with satin or plush But of course fashion able fur designs are not Veils have nearly disappeared from hats lining, because the environment of rich sealskin limited to coats or jackets; there are an immense enhances the beauty of a beautiful woman, and variety of beautiful cloaks, some pelisse and some and bonnets for ordinary wear. Occasionally a makes even a plain woman seem a ttr a c tiv e and dolman shaped, others shaped at the back, and bit of white tulle is used to keep crimps in place, this is very desirable when the tint of a delicate having circular fronts, and still others with sleeves and long gauze veils are found useful in traveling, complexion is put to unusual tests. C. G. Gun­ set in full surplice style upon the shoulder, and but the warnings of physicians in regard to the ther Sons, 184 Fifth Avenue, are to be credited fitted into the back, of which they form a part. effect of the rasping net and exclusion of light upon the eyes is having a good effect, and women with the introduction of the long sealskin coat, These are made of sealskin, lined with plush, or ulster, which has created a sort of furore, be- are beginning to emerge from the seclusion of and trimmed with a broad band of otter. Or they centuries. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 7

tied down in the shape of a gipsy bonnet. The Evening Dresses. Winter Hats and Bonnets. deeper the brim the more effective and stylish it The toilets for evening wear are remarkable for The contest still continues between the large becomes. The trimming is feathers (ostrich) and their diversity this season, and for a wide range hats and small bonnets, but a diversion has been wide, soft satin ribbon, black upon black, gray or between simplicity and magnificence. Perhaps created by the sudden and unlooked-for appear­ garnet upon gray, feathers to match the ribbon. this is partly due to the fact that evening parties ance of the cap. The cap takes various forms, The large, all-black hat is the most striking. are now much less common among the medium the turban, the Scotch, the Tam O’Shanter, the The small bonnet is, as we have remarked in class of people, their places having been taken by Polish, and the like, but it is inoffensive in them previous numbers, simply a vivid bit of color. It the afternoon reception and the weekly evening all; pretty, coquettish, but not at all belligerent, may be ruby red velvet or gold with red feathers. and day receptions, which have become the rule and best suited to fresh and youthful faces. Ma­ It may be bronze velvet, or gold with feathers to of late years. tronly ladies make a mistake in indulging in the match. Certainly evening entertainments have been ! temptation offered by the picturesque hats, or It may be composed of small over-lappiug largely relegated to the wealthiest class and to I dainty little caps. Young-looking and handsome feathers of the most brilliant edges, and it may be clubs, who give them on a scale which ordinary women may indulge in the hat, but the modest beaded in a rich mixture of dark, iridescent individuals cannot hope tot rival; and the style of frame of a bonnet is best for a face that is fight­ hues, or in the white of “ jet,” and “ rice” or dress shows its relation to the importance of the ing its battle with time, and getting the worst. pearl. Whatever it is, it should look like a jewel, social event. All costumes, however, cannot be j of it. just as the hat should look as if copied from a of equal richness and splendor, especially if they What looks like one of the quaintest novelties picture; the heaver bonnet, as if stolen from a belong to one wardrobe; even magnificence may in beaver is simply the large hat, the brim which woman of a past generation going to the fair, and become monotonous, and, to save variety from had been turned up at the side turned down, and the cap from the little sly-boots who created such drifting into commonplace the mischief by “ Comin’ thro’ the t wo extremes are chosen of rigid Rye,” instead of going home by simplicity, and supreme elegance the straight road. of ornamentation. Let no one imagine, however, that this sim­ plicity means white muslin tucked over a cotton skirt, ac­ cording to the “ sweet sixteen ” Evening Toilet* code of our grandmothers—oh, A charming toilet of cream- no. It means thick white satin colored voile de religieuse, with a or brocade, from ten to twenty- long, full-trained skirt, trimmed five dollars per yard, made in a on the front with a long apron, long,“ whole gown, with price­ edged with Languedoc lace, and less lace at the neck and upon draped high over a succession of the sleeves, and a string of beads pale blue satin ruffles. The train or diamonds, worth as much as a is edged all around with alternat­ modest house. ing narrow ruffles of lace and A beautiful dress worn recently '"blue satin. The side's are orna­ was of ivory brocade, draped ap­ mented with plaited panels of parently over a petticoat of Turk­ pale blue satin, extending to the ish gauze. Ruffles of gauze, ex­ bottom of the skirt. A knot of quisitely embroidered, formed pale pink roses, with plush leaves the lower part of the tablier, the and petals, is placed on the panel upper part of which was shirred, just below the knee, confining and a panel was formed of ruffles the plaits in the form of a quille. upon the left side, the other being The pointed corsage is low In fastened with cords brought from front and half-high at the back, the shoulder. Another dress was with marquise sleeves. It is of of umber satin sewn over thickly Pompadour satin brocade, trim­ with small gold beads. The en­ med with a plastron of light blue tire dress, sleeves, and bodice, satin, and a bertha of voile de and train, were enriched hi this religieuse, confined in front and way, and the effect was most pe­ on the sides with pale pink roses. culiar ; the labor, all performed The neck and sleeves are edged by hand, must have been enor­ with a full plaiting of Languedoc mous. lace, and the corsage is laced In A charming princess dress of the back with blue silk cord. pale blue and silver brocade had Cream-colored gloves trimmed an entire front and sleeves made with insertion and plaiting of of pearled lace and pearl fringe, white lace, and embroidered with and a brown brocade was effec­ myosolis on the hack. Black vel­ tively combined with what Is vet dog-collar with silver pen­ known as cloth of gold, though dant. The designs used in the in reality it is all silk and gold, composition of this toiletware the and realizes all one’s ideas of “ Belocca ” train, and the “ Thy- oriental magnificence. ra ” corsage without the second The cost of the elaborate com­ baBque. The train is illustrated binations of satin and lace, or separately elsewhere. Skirt pat­ brocade and satin, of the em­ tern, thirty cents. Pattern of broidery and fringe and superb corsage twenty cents each size. stuffs used for ornamentation is now so great, that many ladies have given up what are known as “ evening toilets,” the present Miss L. M. Alcott has sent us fashion of day receptions and the initial chapter of a story en­ entertainments permitting them titled “ Victoria,” to run through to do so without great sacrifice ; several numbers, and which one handsome visiting dress, and shows how the struggles of an a dinner dress for at homes, being artist’s life assisted in the all the toilets they require for growth and development of a society purposes. EVENING TOILET. noble, womanly character. ROMAN APRONS AND LINGERIE. DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 9

Stel l in a C ostum e.—Cut in princess style No. 6.—A beautiful jabot or plastron, made of the whole length of the front, with irregular India mull laid in deep plaits, and edged with drapery failing in a shawl-shaped point at the wide Breton lace, which is arranged very full at right, and the back arranged with a deep each end. A knot of pale blue gros-grain ribbon basque to which the drapery is attached and is placed near the top, and the lower end is orna­ falls over an underskirt, this is a decidedly mented with a cluster of pink rose-buds and unique and stylish design. The waist portion mignonette. Price; with ribbon of any desired is tight-fitting, with the usual number of darts color, and flowers to suit the taste, $3. in front, and a deep dart taken out under the arm on each side, side forms rounding to the No. 7.—A white linen apron in Italian style, al­ armholes, and a seam down the middle of the though not doubled at the top. It is made of a back. The bottom of the skirt is trimmed piece of heavy white linen fifteen inches long and with a narrow side plaiting on the front and half a yard wide, increased to the required length sides, and a deep kilt-plaiting on the back, of three-quarters of a yard by several strips of but any other style of trimming can be substi­ linen alternating with heavy Smyrna insertions tuted. The front laps over the edge of the an inch and a half wide. Stripes of red and blue underskirt, and is fastened with buttons on embroidered trimming, two-thirds and three-quar­ each side, and the drapery is secured by a ters of an inch wide, are placed on the linen strips large loop on the right side and a cascade of and secured by cross or herring-bone stitches of ribbon at the left. The collar is turned over colored silk, and a trimming to match the strips very broad, and the plain cuffs are deep and is placed on the lower edge of the apron proper. trimmed with buttons like the dress. This is The fringe, one-eighth of a yard deep, is knotted a suitable design for almost any dress mate­ into the lower insertion. The apron is fastened rial, especially for a combination of contrast­ around the waist by a cord two yards and a half ing goods. Price of pattern, thirty cents each long, finished with tassels. The corners are cut size. off and left loose. No. 8.—An Italian apron made of black silk, PATRICIA COSTUME. twenty-four inches long and twenty inches wide, Roman Aprons and Lingerie. and embroidered with deep red, blue, green, and P a tric ia C ostum e.—The absence of unneces­ yellow floss silk in "gobelin" stitch, which will sary ornament is a conspicuous feature of this No. 1.—An Italian apron, made of fine white be found very effective. A silk and chenille graceful and stylish costume. It consists of a linen cut lengthwise, about one yard long and half fringe, three and a half inches deep, finishes the tight-fitting polonaise and a walking skirt, the a yard wide, and folded over a quarter of a yard bottom of the apron, and a second row is placed former coat-shaped in front and extending nearly from the top. The strings are sewed in, under the just below the upper row of embroidery. A cord to the bottom of the skirt at the sides, where a fold, three inches from the edge on each side. The with tassels, in which the colors of the embroidery separate breadth is added which is caught up in a trimming consists of two rows of embroidery, done arc combined, fastens the apron, and the corners reversed manner and fastened to the back of the with ecru thread in tapestry stitch, and narrow are left loose but not cut off. polonaise, in plaits, under a large Bebe bow. The hem-stitching, or darned open work upon the sides of the apron and around the embroidery; No. 9.—A handsome chemisette fichu especially polonaise is cut with three darts in each front, suitable for dressy wear. It is made of white silk two in the usual positions and one under the arm, the ends are hemmed and finished with a knotted- in ecru fringe about two inches deep. mull with pale blue polka dots, and Italian lace side forms carried to the armholes, and a seam and insertion. The mull is folded and laid in down the middle of the back, which is left open No. 2.—Linen chemisette and standing collar plaits on the outside and finished around the neck below the bow. A short, round walking skirt slightly flared in front. The bosom is laid in tucks with insertion and two rows of lace, turned over edged with a narrow plaiting competes the cos­ about three-quarters of an inch wide. The collar to form a collar. The ends are trimmed with a tume. This design is adapted to almost any dress has button-holes worked in the band to be fastened deep plaiting of lace, fastened at the belt with a material, being especially appropriate for the with a collar-button, and the front has eyelet-holes cluster of wild flowers and pink rosebuds. Price, heavier varieties, and may be trimmed, as illus­ for spiral studs. Price, with any size collar, 65 with any kind of flowers, $3.25. trated, with rows of braid and passementerie orna­ cents. ments, or with any other garniture appropriate to No. 10.—A plain gored apron of black silk, the goods selected. Price of pattern, 30 cents No. 3.—A handsome fichu-jabot, intended for a trimmed to about one-third its depth with fine each size. dressy toilet, made of silk India muslin, with gold ecru canvas, worked with floss silk in bright col­ polka-dots, and trimmed with Breton lace. The ors in a bold design. The ends of the strings and fichu is of muslin, doubled and laid in plaits, and a pocket on the right side are trimmed to match. finished with a ruffle of lace; it fastens in front, A plain silk fringe, from two and a half to three under a large bow of the muslin edged with lace, inches wide, finishes the bottom, and may be which forms a very full jabot. Price, $3.50. sewed together in little bunches, or left plain, No. 4.—This dainty chemisette, intended to be whichever is preferred. worn with dresses that are cut out in the neck in No. ll.—This stylish fichu is made of white In­ front, is made of French nainsook and insertions dia mull, edged with a wide ruffle of Breton lace. of embroidery and Breton lace, and trimmed with It is a sty le which can be utilized for various pur­ a double plaiting of Breton lace around the neck poses ; may be crossed on the bust and fastened and down the front. It fastens in the back with a at the belt, loosely knotted in front just below small pearl button. Price, $1.40. the bust, as illustrated, or tied close about the throat. A cluster of flowers placed on the left No. 5.—Although not turned over at the top, side renders it more dressy if worn as it is illus­ this is also known as an Italian apron, and is made trated. Price, with flowers to suit the taste, $5.50. of fine white linen, cut lengthwise, three-quarters Without flowers, $4.50. of a yard long and twenty-four inches wide, and hemmed on three sides. The upper edge is sloped No. 12.—Ecru linen Italian apron, made of a off about one inch toward the middle, and is straight piece of linen, one yard and an eighth sewed plainly to a straight belt, the corners being long and half a yard wide. Fold over three- left loose about five inches, and cut off about an eighths of a yard of the length on the outside, and eighth of a yard from the top. The strings are hollow it in the crease by a dart about half an sewed to the belt at the sides, and may be of inch deep in the middle, leaving about an eighth double-faced satin ribbon of any desired color. of a yard loose on each side. The illustration The trimming is colored embroidery upon the represents the apron trimmed with a hem-stitched material, in bands three inches wide, and at the and darned border, and a fringe an eighth of a distances of an inch for the lowest row, and a yard deep knotted in the lower edges with a cro­ quarter of a yard for the upper row, from the chet-hook ; but the apron may also be trimmed lower edge. Smyrna lace, embroidered in colors, with embroidery oh the linen, or embroidered STELLINA COSTUME. is sewed on just below the embroidery. bauds and fine knotted macrame fringe or lace. 10 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

Ladies’ Fancy Costumes. Fig. 1.—Domino of satin-finished Pompadour foulard, trimmed with Languedoc lace. The design used is the “ Vinetta” wrapper, which is tight-fitting, and has a double Watteau plait in the back. It is trimmed down the front with a jabot of lace, interspersed with loops of pale pink and blue satin ribbons, and around the bottom with ruffles of lace. The sleeves are loose, and trimmed with lace and ribbon. A hood, covered with ruffles of lace, conceals the coiffure, and is tied in front with a bow of ribbon. Cream-colored gloves with lace insertion. Pink satin mask, with curtain of Languedoc lace. Fig. 2.—The " Sorceress.”—An effective fancy costume made of red silk and black satin. The short red silk skirt is trimmed with a wide band of black satin, embroid­ ered with cabalistic designs in gold. A short, full tunic, embroidered with gold stars, is draped to form two side paniers, and joined in the back with a large bow and ends of black satin. Bed silk basque, pointed front and back, closed in front with a band of black satin —a similar band extending all around the basque. This band is ornamented with colored stones in square gilt settings. A plastron of black satin, striped with gilt braid, is placed upon the basque in front, which is very slightly decollete, A red tab, embroidered in gold and trimmed with gilt braid, falls from under the point of the basque in front. The sleeves of black satin are short, and trimmed with sim­ ilar tabs. A gilt band, ornamented with a large emerald, and two gilt points in the middle, is worn just back of the forehead; and a sec­ ond band, with gilt rays, is placed further back on the head. Bed silk boots with gilt heels and lacets. Fig 8,—Louis XV. Fancy Dress. —Made of blue and white pekin and blue velvet. The short under skirt is of blue and white pekin, and the overskirt of blue velvet, draped at the sides and bouffant at the. back, and ornamented with a how of cherry-colored satin at the left side. India muslin apron, edged with a ruffle of lace, headed with cherry-colored satin ribbon. LADIES' FANCY COSTUMES. The basque Is of pekin, cut very short on the sides, the fronts long, and the back way from the ankle, under a straw-colored skirt, open undersleeve of white tulle is fastened at the In postilion shape; and a short jacket of blue and tunic of blue satin. The tunic is plain in top with a turquoise and gold clasp, and at the. velvet covers the upper part of the basque and front but plaited full at the back, and is trimmed bottom with a similar clasp. Turban of blue satin forms the sleeves. This is ornamented with a with straw-colored bands and embroidery of white entwined with pearl beads, and ornamented with turned down collar and revers of white velvet, silk and fine pearl beads. A white tarlatan scarf, gold tassels and a circlet of sequins, falling on the trimmed with gilt buttons. The sleeves, which with gilt stripes, is placed upon the, right hip, hair in front. Turkish slippers of blue satin, e only extend to the elbows, are trimmed with crosses the skirt, and is tied at the bottom of the broidered with gold. white velvet revers, and the undersleeves are of skirt on the left side, leaving uneven, floating — ------white halide, with full ruffles at the wrists, A full ends. The long basque opens in front over a Dr. Farrar, an American physician, estimates ruche and jabot of white lace finishes the neck. straw-colored vest embroidered in the same style that half a ton of pure gold, worth half a million Powdered hair, arranged in a catogan at the back, as the tunic. The basque is trimmed, with em­ dollars, is annually packed into people’s teeth in tied with a bow of black satin ribbon. Three- broidery and silk galloon ornamented with pearl j the United States. At this rate, all the gold in cornered hat of black felt, bound and trimmed beads. The low opening in the neck is filled in circulation will bo buried in the earth in three hun- with cherry-colored satin. with a guimpe of white tulle, drawn close around dred years. He also calculates that three millions Fig. 4.—Oriental Costume.—Full trowsers of the neck. The sleeve Is only a point of blue satin of artificial teeth are annually supplied, and that blue satin, drawn in at the bottom, about half­ trimmed like the basque with pearl beads. An only one person in eight has sound teeth. DEM OREST’S M o n t h l y M AGAZINE.

Visiting cloaks are a rich combination of black fur also is apt to rub off upon a woolen dress, Winter Cloaks and Wraps. damasse, magnificent passementeries, and high- particularly the second year of wear, and, as a colored plush lining, old-gold, red, or “ tiger ” good silk fur-lined cloak costs from sixty to a There is no lack of warmth this season so far striped. They are very warm and comfortable hundred dollars and is only worn a part of the as that can be obtained from outside garments. as well as effective for carriage wear ; and the year, it is not to be thrown aside after one season. The variety of cloaks is endless, and the weight soft, thick chenille fringes, and even the beaded Besides, though there is the temptation of warmth of some of them, where heavy trimmings are passementeries are so beautifully wrought as to and comfort in it, the warmth is too great not to added to thick fabric and dining, is almost more mass without harshness or jingle, and envelop the render change a risk; and while silk is too easily than a woman could carry, if the burden did not person with a delightful sense of luxury and en­ defaced to render it serviceable wear for thrift depend from her shoulders. joyment of it. The bright-hued plush linings are women who want a wrap for many and various A serious attempt at a revolution in outside gar­ an inspiration in conjunction with the rich-fig­ purposes, the style of the cloak is too uniform ments has been made of late, and though, as yet, ured silks and satins, and both are matched by and too commonplace for anything but ordinary there are few signs of it upon the street, or even the beauty of the chenille and jet ornamenta­ wear. in the stores, yet it is bound to make its way tions. A round cloak is unquestionably a most desir­ when we are once freed from the sort of despotism The round, fur-lined cloaks of black silk have able addition to every lady’s wardrobe, and a ne­ that the jacket, the circular, and the paletot have lost much of their popularity, because of the dif­ cessity to many; but it should be of the nature of exercised over us. ficulty of preserving them, and their uncertainty a “ hack,” and therefore it is best to make it of The tendency is toward complete- garments, as an investment. Unless the silk is of very good reversible cloth, soft, thick, and furry upon the that is, cloaks or coats that envelop the person; quality, it soon looks shabby and defaced ; the inside, that can be worn and thrown aside, in this direction are the hand­ some seal-skin ulsters, and ul­ sters of feather-cloth. The pe­ lisse, which is more dressy than the ulster, though equally pro­ tective, is a movement of the same kind, and the dolman has been gradually lengthened until it has ceased to be the small garment with wide sleeves which we knew ten years ago, and has become a long; graceful cloak, whose sleeves are not its most important part, but bear the proper relation to the rest of the garment. So far these are improvements. Fashion pre­ fers extremes, and the fashion­ able outer garment must be small or large. The features of the new cloaks are, first, length; second, full­ ness about the neck and arms. The fullness at the neck gives them the appearance of a “ sur­ plice," and can only be applied to silk, satin, and fine wool. A gathering of thick cloth is ex­ tremely clumsy, and the rever­ sible cloths, which are the latest and best development of this species of manufactures, though very soft, are too thick to be even laid in plaits. On tall and slender figures silk and satin can be shirred and drawn in to form outlines with very good effect, but it must be in rather light and easily draping materials. The two examples which we give, in our illustrations for the present mouth, of the pelisse forms are graceful as well as novel, and very distinguished ; they can be safely relied upon as permanent designs, at least for years, subject, perhaps, to slight modifications. The seal-skin jacket h a s lengthened Into the seal-skin ulster—a Russian-looking gar­ ment warm enough for an Arc­ tic winter, and wonderfully be­ coming when it is accompanied by a jaunty seal-skin cap and muff. The addition to it for the neck is a wide embroidered necktie of soft mull, a cravat of antique lace or muslin trimmed 3 i 4 with lace. LADIES’ FANCY COSTUMES. 1 2 DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. dropped or exposed to weather without fear of Cut both pieces of the pattern straight, the spoliation. outer piece crosswise, and the lining lengthwise The advance upon this is a long cloak with a of the material. shaped princess hack and sacque fronts, which is Three-eighths of a yard of goods, twenty inches elegantly made in American satin de Lyon, and wide, will be required for the outside; and three- lined with seal-skin silk plush of a very handsome quarters of a yard of the same width for the lining, quality. This cloak has great distinction, and is to make as described. costly, though not any more so than one that is fur-lined and first-class. It is a very suitable cloak Clubs, H urry u p, or your subscribers will be for an elderly lady who is in the habit of dressing disappointed in not getting the first chapters of richly. our new serial stories by Miss Alcott and the au­ Opera-cloaks are in white exactly what the thor of “ Probation,” also our fine portrait of finest class of day cloaks are in black. They are Marie Antoinette, and the many brilliant attrac­ of the richest silks lined with satin or plush, and tions in preparation for succeeding numbers. trimmed with mossy ruches of white silk and thick chenille fringe. The inner wadding is a sheet of pure wool or down, and the softness and beauty of those garments, which are used merely as wraps, is hardly to be realized from description. A still more gorgeous style of evening and car­ riage wrap is an India dolman, the material a very rich India stuff wrought with pure gold. The thick ruches and fringes of this cloak are mixed thickly with gold threads, and have all the ELMA POLONAISE. colors of the stuff blended in them, the prevail­ ing one being red; the lining is red-striped silk Elm a Polonaise.—Tight-fitting, the fronts plush. Such a cloak is worn with a dress of white ornamented with wide revers, and partially double- damasse or brocade at the opera, or in a box at breasted, and the back in the favorite coat style, the theater ; but, in the latter case, it will be ac­ the “ Elma ” is one of the most popular designs companied by a large beaver bonnet tied down for misses’ wear. It has one dart in each front, with white satin and trimmed with a plume of side gores under the arms, side forms rounded to white ostrich feathers. the armholes, and a seam down the middle of the black. The back pieces and side forms extend the entire length of the garment, but a separate skirt is added to the fronts and side gores. The design is most appropriate to complete a street costume, and is very desirable for a combination of goods or colors. Almost any of the various dress fabrics used for street costumes may be employed. Pattern in sizes for from twelve to sixteen years. Price, twenty-five cents each.

Description of Cut Paper Pattern. OLGA MUFF. A convenient and dressy little arrangement, serving the double purpose of muff and reticule, and intended to be made of silk, satin, velvet or plush, as desired, trimmed at the sides with lace, and ornamented on the outside with a large bow of satin ribbon. It may be made of goods to match the costume, wrap, or bonnet, or of an en­ tirely different material, as preferred. The entire pattern is given, consisting of two pieces—inside of the muff, and outer part forming the reticule. Cut two pieces like the inside piece, which is the smallest, of the satin or silk used for lining, and between the two pieces an interlining of French wadding is to be placed. The edges indi­ cated by single notches are to be joined in a seam, and the ends are to be gathered and drawn up to the width of about nine inches. The outer por­ FABIA CLOAK. tion of the muff is to be lined throughout tacked across the middle to the seam in the muff, FABIA CLOAK. F a b ia C lo a k .—A stylish and dressy design in thus forming a pocket on either side of the muff, “ visite” style, cut with loose fronts, in sacque or the lining may be omitted and false pockets A dressy design, in visite style, made of black shape, side gores under the arms, and a curved introduced, and the outer piece faced to the depth diagonal cloth, and trimmed with revers of black seam down the middle of the back. The flowing of the row of holes. T he edges marked by a sin­ gros-grain silk and silk fringe. The costume with sleeves are inserted in dolman style and orna­ gle notch are to be joined to the ends of the muff | which it is worn is of black serge, with a kilt- mented with broad revers. This is an excellent as far up as the notch, and above that they are to plaited skirt, edged with a narrow plaiting of red model for all kinds of cloak materials, both heavy be joined together in a seam. The row of holes Surah silk. Collar and muff of natural beaver and light, and makes up handsomely in silk or denotes two rows of gathers, forming a tack, fur, lined with red Surah silk. Black fur felt hat, sicillienne trimmed with fur, or with the cloak of through which an elastic, about nine inches long, trimmed with a shaded red plume, and black satin figured material and the collar and bands on the can be run between the outside and facing, or a ribbons. The double illustration of the cloak is sleeves of plain goods, and trimmed with passementerie drawing-string may be substituted, so that the shown among the separate fashions. Pattern of ornaments and fringe, as illustrated. Pat­ muff may be carried on the arm as a reticule, if cloak in sizes for fourteen and sixteen years. tern in sizes for fourteen and sixteen years. Price, desired. Price, twenty-five cents each. twenty-five cents each.

DEMOREST’S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 13

PAOLA MUFF. P aola Muff.—This dainty little muff may be made of plush, satin, velvet or silk, lined with the same or a different material or color, and trimmed, as illus­ trated, with a silk cordeliere and a bow of satin ribbon, or in some other appropri­ ate manner, and may be of material to match the costume or bonnet, or different from both. The design is simple and easily reproduced. Price of pattern, fif­ “ JERSEY” COSTUME. teen cents. " Jersey" Costume.—Exceedingly stylish but SARITA POLONAISE. simple in design, this costume for young girls is com­ Sarita Polonaise.—Simple in design, gracefully posed of a tight-fitting cuirass basque to which is draped, and tight-fitting, with the usual number of attached a kilt-plaited skirt. The joining is concealed darts in front, deep darts taken out under the arms, by a plaited scarf or sash, which may be of the same, side forms rounding to the arm-holes, and a seam or a contrasting material as illustrated. The “ Jersey” down the middle of the back. The fronts are cut waist is fitted with three darts in the front, one on away and very fully draped, forming paniers on the each side and one in the middle of the front, side sides; and it is ornamented with a wide, turn-over gores under the arms, and a “ French ” back. This collar. All classes of dress goods are adapted to this design, usually made in Jersey webbing, or stockinet, design, and the trimming can be selected to suit the either silk or wool, with a skirt of a different material, taste and material used. It is especially desirable is also appropriate for nearly all other dress goods, for washable fabrics, as it is easily arranged. Price of but is especially suitable for the heavier varieties. pattern, thirty cents each size. Pattern in sizes from ten to sixteen years. Price, each

WILHELM SUIT.

W ilhelm Suit.—A deep, side-plaited, single-breasted blouse, and pants without fullness at the top are combined to form this stylish suit. The design is suitable for flannel, the lighter qualities of cloth, linen, jean, or any of the goods of which suits for small boys are made, and rows of stitching form the most suitable finish. Pattern in sizes for from six to ten years. Price, thirty cents each.

Our next, the February number of Dem- orest’s Illustrated Monthly, will contain the companion picture to Marie Stuart, a magnificent portrait of Marie Antoinette. VLADIMIR PELISSE. It will be the best monthly magazine, ADELAIDE COSTUME. without regard to price, published in V lad im ir P e lis se .—Simple, yet distingue in ap­ has full breadths in the back, and the front and America. pearance, and somewhat in visile style, with loose sides are slightly gored; it is trimmed on the bot­ sacque fronts, the back slightly, fitted by a curved tom with a box-plaiting about two inches deep and a seam down the middle, sleeves inserted in dolman band of contrasting goods, six inches wide, and the style, and a deep, pointed collar trimmed to simulate A d e la id e C ostum e. — The “ Ade­ sides are ornamented with detached panels. The a hood. The design is appropriate for any goods used laide ” costume has a plain, round waist waist is trimmed with a large, square collar forming for winter wraps, and maybe trimmed, as illustrated, in front, fitted with a single dart in each double revers on the front, and altogether this is a with plush and passementerie ornaments, or with fur, side, and side gores under the arms; and dressy design for a young girl’s costume. Any of the or any other style of trimming suitable to the material the back is a " polka” basque with side various dress fabrics now in use are suitable for this chosen. Pattern in two sizes, medium and large. forms rounded to the armholes and model. Pattern in sizes for from twelve to sixteen Price, thirty cents each. a seam down the middle. The skirt years. Price, twenty-five cents each. DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

fourteen years, six yards and three-quarters of not-too thick, cloth. It is tailor-stitched for finish, Children’s Fashions. plain goods are required for this dress, and two and takes for ten years of age three yards and and three-quarters for the combination, both one-half of cloth twenty-seven Inches wide. T here is a sort of return to the quaint old fash­ twenty-four inches in width. Fashionable hosiery for children is in dark, ions of previous generations in some of the chil­ The “ Elma ” polonaise is a pretty combination solid colors for day wear, and the best is made dren’s fashions of to-day-—in the beaver bonnets oi coat, with basque effect, and is suitable also to double at the knees, as well as the heels and toes. tied down under the chin, in the cape cloaks, and a union of two materials. The skirt would natur­ Dog-skin gloves, fleece-lined, are used both for Mother Hubbard overdresses, which are caught ally be of the plain, with perhaps two bias folds of girls and boys’ school wear, so that muffs are not back at the sides, and have a bodice properly the figured. For the polonaise for fourteen years obligatory, especially as the coats and ulsters all finished with a kerchief in true Mother Hubbard three yards and a half of plain material are needed, contain pockets. This is a very important matter style. and one yard and a half of the trimming goods, when books and luncheon box or basket have to It speaks well too for the majority of mothers both of ordinary (twenty-four inches) width. be carried. that the p rin cess dress, shaped and mounted The “ Fabia ” cloak is an adaptation of the dol­ Best suits for children are all made complete, with simple folds or sash, still continues the base man designs to young girls of fourteen and six­ and of one color, including cap and fancy muff. of the popular designs, for there is none other so teen years. It is very stylish, but need not be The combinations of ruby plush and velvet, with practical, or so convenient for school, and work, very expensive if it is made at home, for only two immense Vandyke collars of antique lace are the and play ; and none that preserves a certain ap­ yards and a quarter of cloth, forty-eight inches most striking. But they can be made in any color, pearance of elegance with the employment of so wide are required, and three-eighths of a contrast­ and any combination of material. little material, and such moderate resources. The ing material for the collar and bands of the sleeves, whole dress throughout is the only sensible dress from which the ornaments may he omitted if pre­ for girls, and the combination underwear enables ferred. mothers to employ it for every part of the dress, The “ Wilhelm ” suit is one of the latest and Children’s Costumes. thus decreasing the number of pieces, and saving best designs, in two pieces, for a boy of from six F ig. 1.—Young girl’s costume of vin de Bordeaux the pressure and multiplication of folds round the to ten years of age. It may be made in heavy cashmere and “ Jersey” webbing. The “ Jersey” body at a time when it should have all the freedom flannel, cheviot, woolen, cashmere, or any durable, waist is made of the webbing or stockinet, laced and all the chance possible for ______in the back with a red silk cord. healthful development. - One The kilt-plaited skirt is of cash- whole knitted merino undergar­ mere, and the joining of the ment, one corded waist to which basque and skirt is concealed by stocking suspenders are attached, a plaited scarf or sash of natte one whole cotton garment, a silk, with red and gold figures woolen skirt attached to shoul­ combined in a palm-leaf pattern. der-straps, and a whole flannel The design used is the “ Jersey ” dress lined. This dress, with long costume. Pattern in sizes for woolen stockings and stout from ten to sixteen years. Price, boots, is complete and comfort­ twenty-five cents each. able, and is made suitable for the street by adding a cloth coat or F ig. 2.—-Boy’s suit' of figured ulster, a cap, a muff, and red silk brown fancy cloth, made with a cravat. plaited blouse and knee-pants. Another skirt may be added if The design employed is the considered desirable, and one or “ Wilhelm ” suit, simply finished other of the skirts may be at­ | with rows of machine stitching tached to a cotton waist, but this and tortoise-shell buttons, white should depend upon climatic con­ linen “ Pierrot” collar, and red ditions and amount of exposure. silk tie, “ Tam O’Shanter” cap All children should be provid­ crocheted of dark blue worsted. ed with wristlets, gloves, and The directions for crocheting cravats of bilk or wool for the this hat are given in the fancy neck, as ft is in the absence of work department. Pattern of these accessories that they are suit in sizes for from six to ten most apt to suffer from the cold. years of age. Price, thirty cents We give an illustration of a fash­ each. ionable complete costume in the ------»-+-*------present number which furnishes Look out for the F ebruary au admirable model for school N umber, for in it we shall begin or home wear. It is called the the new story by Miss Jessie “Jersey,” and Is, In fact, the cel­ Fothergill, author of “ Proba­ ebrated design known by that tion,”- “ First Violin,” “ Well- name, adapted to different ma­ steads,” etc., but said by com­ terials. This can be made in petent critics to be infinitely su­ any plain fabric, or woolen ma­ perior to either, and destined to terial, and the sash may be of a create as great a sensation as figured stuff, or a different fab­ “ Jane Eyre.” ric, such as plush, satin, velvet, —- —• •• •— —— silk, or plaid wool, instead of The long, undressed kid the brocade as shown in the cut. glove, buttoned at the wrist, The entire dress for a girl of but whole above, and drawn upon twelve years only requires six the arm, so as to leave it a lit­ yards and a half of goods twenty- tle wrinkled, is the fashionable fonr inches wide, and two yards French glove of the season.- of the same width for sash. The latest breakfast touch Another pretty costume is the is the neckerchief of mull, em­ “ Adelaide.” This has the effect broidered upon the scolloped of a coat, and from the belt edges, and trimmed with Breton Is suspended the ends of the lace or not, at discretion. " sword " sash. The costume ------should be made in two materials, wool and plush, or wool and bro­ A Lady says in a recent letter, cade (in a small figure), or wool " ‘ Demorest's ’ has more ideas in one number than other maga­ und velvet. For the size for CHILDREN’S COSTUMES. zines in a whole year.” DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 15

na Berners, bom in 1388, and daughter of Sir James always ladies, loaf-given;' and, as you are to see im­ Berners, a favorite of Richard II. and prioress of Sopwell peratively that everybody has something pretty to pin Nunnery, near St. A lbans was celebrated for her ex­ on, so you are to see yet mote imperatively that every­ treme beauty and great learning. She varied the devo­ body has something nice to eat.” tions of the cloister with field sports, and wrote books " Linguist.”—Among the languages of civilized na­ on hunting, fishing, and heraldry. A copy of tions English is the most wide-spread. It is the mother- her book sold in London lately for £180. tongue of about 80,000,600 people ; German of between “ Mis s LEMONs."—The lemon tree is a native of Asia, 50,000,000 and 60,000,000; French of between 40,000,000 “Puzzled.”—Make up the dress with an adjustable though cultivated In Italy, Portugal, and the south of and 50,000,000; Italian of 88,000,000, and Russian of be­ train, and with a bodice in addition to the figured France. In Europe it is a small tree, while in its native tween 56,000,000 and 60,000,000. jacket; you will then have two complete dresses in one state it is sometimes over sixty feet in height. Lemon “ Harold.”—The lines of railroads in the five divi­ suited to day and evening receptions. The “ Imperia ” juice is very useful in sickness, makes the hands smooth sions of the earth cost, in round numbers. $16,000,060,- is an elegant and very graceful design ; the " Lang and white, is an alleviative to neuralgia if rubbed where 000, and would, according to Baron Kolb, reach eight try ” casaque would be a suitable pattern for the jacket, the pain is, and is useful in destroying dandruff, times round the globe, although it is but little over half with or without the hood, and the bodice may be any " Wallingford.”—Near the bathing establishment of a century since the first railway worked by steam was pretty open basque, with elbow or long sleeves. opened between Darlington and Stockton, September The “ Musette ” will give you a pretty design for your Sandefiord, Christiana, Norway, there is a tumulus local­ ly known as King's Hill. Under this tradition averred 27, 1825, and between Manchester and Liverpool, Sep­ little girl’s party dress; it may be made in pale pink, or tember 15,1830. blue, or white, in wool, or silk; only, if it is wool, the that a mighty king had been buried with costly puffing should be laid in plaits. The trimming may treasures near his body. Last January the peasants " Gardener.”—You should never destroy black ants; remember the “ Ancient Mariner,” and think before kill­ be lace, needle-work, or colored embroidery in silk or on whose land the tumulus was situated began to sink wool . a well. Upon reaching some timber they sought the ing even insects. In Northern Italy and Southern Ger­ services of an able antiquarian, and under his guidance many orchard proprietors are cultivators of the common “Mrs. W. H.“--The “ Rosalba” would make you the whole body of an old Viking vessel was revealed, black ant, which insect. they hold in high esteem as the a very handsome toilet arranged in the following seventy-four feet long from stern to stem, sixteen broad fruit-grower’s best friend. They establish ant-hills in way: use satin, bronze or olive, for the draped and amidships, drawing five feet water, and with twenty ribs. their orchards, and leave the police service of their fruit- ruffled front of the robe, and mount it upon a lining. It is evident that when the burial took place the sea, trees entirely to the tiny colonists, which pass all their Make the train of satin, and the upper part of the dress which is now a mile away, washed the base of the tu­ time in climbing up the stems of the fruit-trees, cleans­ of silk and wool brocade, in olive, old gold, and pea­ mulus. The craft is placed with her stern toward the sea, ing their boughs and leaves of malefactors, mature as cock blue. The ribbons may be olive satin, without so that when the Great Father should call him, the chief­ well as embryonic, and descending laden with spoils to any admixture of color. The fichu may be mull, or tain might start fully equipped from his tomb. Among the ground, where they comfortably consume or pru­ dotted net and lace. the articles found in the vessel were some smaller boats, dently store away their booty. They never meddle with “Amy Robsart.” —There is nothing improper in a quantity of bars, and some shields too thin t o sound fruit, but only invade such apples, pears, and thanking a gentleman for an act of attention if yon feel, beused except for ornamental purposes. Bones of man, horse, p lu m s as have already been penetrated by the canker, obliged to him. He may have rescued you from an em­ and dog, together with various utensils, drinking cups which they remorselessly pursue to its fastnesses within barrassing position, or at least taken trouble, and gone etc., were found. The tumulus is supposed to date the very heart of the fruit. Nowhere are apple and pear out of his way to serve you. To thank him in such a from about 800, when Charlemagne was crowned Em­ trees so free of them blight and destructive insects as in the case is not politeness, it is only decency. peror of Rome, and when Norway was still divided be­ immediate neighborhood of a large ant-hill five or six “Ruby.”—The general tone of the houses now is tween the wild chieftains and sea-kings. The burial years old. The favorite food of ants would appear to be dark, and is very much objected to by physicians as craft is to be left where it was found, a roof being built the larvae and pupae of those creatures which spend the warning in cheerfulness. Dark walls, thick dark cur­ over It to shelter it from the weather. whole of their brief existence in devouring the tender tains, dressed mantelpieces, chairs, pianos, and tables, “Scholar.”—You are right. The so-called " P re­ shoots and juvenile leaves of fruit trees. all in somber hues, are rather depressing, unless bright­ tenders ” to the English throne lie buried in Rome, and “Ugly Buckeye.”—A growth of hair where the skin ened by gold and rich color. The temptation too is to on their tombs they are styled respectively James III., is usually fair and sm oothie not an attraction, but it return to the old fashion of keeping for years without Charles III., and Henry IX. King of England. difficult to remove it; the better way would be to ar­ change or renovation, and this is anything but sanitary. range your hair and dress to conceal it. It might possi­ Doubtless the healthiest houses in the world are the “ Medical.” —It is said that a discovery has recently bly have been done in childhood—it would be almost, cottages that are scrubbed once a week, that are white­ been made by M. Toussaint, a professor of the Veterin­ ary School at Toulouse, by which he has succeeded in impossible now. You can wear corsets, however, that washed twice a year, and have the doors and windows will greatly improve your appearance and, not injure open, some of the time, the year round. inoculating animals with vaccine taken from an infected o ne, and rendering them proof against epidemics, such your health. Your handwriting is that of an honest, “Grace.”—It is a very nice idea, and we should ad­ as pleuro-pneumonia, etc. M. Pasteur, as is well truthful, right-minded, intelligent girl. vise you to carry it out. It need not be a very costly known, was successful in vaccinating poultry, and thus undertaking, but it will give you a permanent interest "Dear Demorest: I am glad to have read Jennie preserving them from the attack of what is known as June’s ‘Cost of a Career.’ It has done me good—not in your home, and as your parents are willing yon should chicken cholera. retain the proprietorship of your room, even while that I am one of those who are ' sighing,' but there are teaching, the sense of cosiness and ownership will not “ Student.”-O n Friday, September 17, 1880. Boston, but few of us who cannot look around us and see some be disturbed. You like blue—select, a soft, leafy carpet Mass.., celebrated her two hundred and fiftieth anni towering height whereon we think we m ight have written in blue, wood-color, and white. Let your furtiture be versary. The great feature was a procession of tre- our names had we but undertaken the task ; and I wood-color with a little blue ornamentation. Get a menendons length, including all the militia of Massachu­ believe there are women who go through life with an un­ chintz curtain for your window, and attach it to rings setts, many regiments from other States, and numerous satisfied ambition to know for themselves, and to show which can be run upon an oak or walnut b a r; yon can trade representations. A bronze statue of John Win- to the world what their capabilities are, and just how- drape it back with blue ribbon. This will give yon the throp, the first Governor of Massachusetts, was unveiled, high up the hill of fame they can climb—women who foundation for your accumulation of properties, for the and there were many appropriate orations. September are talented, and who, if they had cultivated those gifts, cultivation of a precious home-nest. Let the first thing 17th was selected because on that day in 1680 the magis­ | had undertaken a ' career,' would have ranked among you add be a little shelf or case of books, and let them tracy passed a resolution bestowing the name Boston on the very best and brightest, but who seldom display their be those whose authors you would most desire to know, what had been called Trimonntain and Shawnmt. A gifts outside of their own homes : to be sure these gifts and of whom you would wish to make personal friends ; settlement by whites had been, made there during the make the home of such a w oman all the pleasanter and for the best of people, as a rule, is put into what they previous summer, their predecessor being a solitary Eng­ more enjoyable. write, and to read them is the best way to get acquaint­ lishman named Blackstone. of whom they bought the “ I must say that I like Demorest exceedingly. I have ed with them, land. At the end of its first century Boston was a pros­ | taken it for three years, and I think I have it next perous town of several thousand inhabitants. The pres year. S ubscriber.” ‘E ngineer" -- The Gorham Manufacturing Com­ pany, and Tiffany & Co.; both Union Square, New ent population of the city is 350,000, with about as many “ Margaret.”—Your best plan would be to get one York. more in the suburbs. One of its original three moun­ | handsome and complete suit in which to be married, tains has been leveled, and the others greatly flattened, and which you could reserve for visiting, church, and any “ Three Brown Girls."—Short dresses of red wool so that, the topography of Boston,is very decidedly ceremonious day occasions. Such suits are made now would be very pretty, with white bib aprons, and red changed. very elegantly of a combination of wool and plush, all caps. Or gray dresses with white Normandy caps, and in one color, and consist of trimmed skirt, plush jacket, “Housekeeper.” —Mr. Ruskin takes a charming aprons a la “ Two Orphans." Short black dresses with view of the dignity of the cook’s function, and one that lined, and finished with large buttons; plush cap, with white Alsatian bow of embroidered muslin, and white should encourage women, who are tempted to feel dis­ ostrich feather band and gold ornaments: and muff, aprons without bibs but with square pockets are effec-. contented with a quiet life. “ What does cookery ornamented with large satin bow and ruffles. This tive, But whatever your dresses,, make them of a solid mean? ” he asks. “ It means the know ledge of Medea, makes a very neat-looking though very elegant com­ color, and the three alike, as they will attract attention and of Circe, and of Calypso, and of Helen, and of R e plete costume, and our. Furnishing Bureau w ill make i t to “ Refreshment Corner" of the fair, and help to bekah, and of the Queen of Sheba; it means knowl­ to order, of finest materials, for $125. The jacket, cap swell your receipts. Also do not charge too much for edge of all herbs, and fruits, and balms,and spices, and muff could be utilized in many different ways, and your wares. It should be said that with the black Alsa­ and of all that is healing and sweet in fields and groves, save outlay for separate articles, which, after all the tian dress small white muslin fichus are worn. and savory in meat, it means carefulness, and inven­ cost, have not the peculiar cachet of fashion. " C. L. McM.”—The price of spun silk vests varies tiveness, and watchfulness, and willingness, and readi “ A Subscriber.”—We should advise an English, or from twelve to fifteen dollars, and drawers about the ness of appliances; it means the economy of your great- a French one; and the best way would be to go to same. Probably a very fair set could be obtained for grandmothers, and the science of modern chemist; it some good bookseller, look at the different ones, and twenty-five dollars. means much testing and no wasting; it means English select one to suit your own taste. “ Modern Student."—All the learned ladies of Eng­ thoroughness, and French art, and Arabian hospitality; “ E."—Instruction by correspondence began in Eng­ land are not confined to the present time. Dame Julia­ and it means, in fine, that you are to be perfectly and land, but the idea has been copied in this country. 16 DEMOREST'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

There is a society of this kind in Boston. We do not to convey it, until a young lady named Emily Geiger remember the address of the secretary, but a letter presented herself and offered to make the journey on would probably find her addressed to Boston, Mass. horseback. She was intrusted with a letter, but in­ “ Violet.”—Get dark green, and trim with plush formed of its contents, that, if the missive could not be same shade. presented, she might deliver the message verbally. Her journey was intercepted, and an old woman bidden to “La Reina.”—Try muriatic acid on your warts; touch them with it; do not let it touch the skin else­ search her person. To escape detection, up the where. Utter piece by piece, and, nothing being found upon her, Oh! Pshaw.—Why cannot two slender persons ever was allowed to go her way unmolested. She inched become great friends ? Because they will always be “ Denver.”—There is a cosmetique for darkening the Sumter in safety, and brought about, through the de­ slight acquaintances. eyebrows, which is the simplest and easiest means of livery of the message, a union of the two divisions. deepening, and more strongly defining them. It is the A hem !—When a poor young lady hemstitches hand­ size and shape of a small stick of chocolate, and costs “ Ruth.”—The only usher required in receiving New kerchiefs for a rich bachelor, it may be suspected that about twenty-five cents. Year’s calls is the servant in attendance. He, or she, she is sewing that she may reap. receives the card of the caller and carries it to the lady “Mrs. L. R. M.”—Garnet and old gold, or gray and Uses of A dversity.—One of the uses of adversity is of the house, or to the lady for whom the call is special­ to enable your neighbors to buy all your new furniture crimson, are, either of them, good combinations for an ly intended, perhaps a daughter of the house, or some afghan. The stripes should be about five inches in at about 95 per cent off store prices. one who is receiving with the ladies of the family. This How to do it.—“ How shall we get the young men to width, and the embroidery upon them should be butter­ lady, whichever it is, walks forward and does the flies, birds, grasshoppers, etc. Quantity of wool will de­ church ? ” is the title of an article in a religious weekly: honors ; that is, she presents her friend to such of the Get the girls to go, sainted brother, get the girls to go. pend on size, fringe, and the like ; that you can judge ladies as may not be engaged with friends of their own, for yourself. Do not put any contrasting color with |or if it is a busy time and many callers are present, she A Clergyman, meeting an inebriated neighbor, ex­ plum-colored cashmere. Use velvet of the same shade, introduces him to the nearest ones, or entertains him claimed, “ Drunk again, W ilkins! ” to which Wilkins, and this also for trimming the gray hat—unless you pre­ until an opportunity offers to present him to some of in a semi-confidential tone responded, “ Sho am I, par­ fer plush. She can wear pale blue at the neck. her friends. Perhaps all are bound for the refresh­ son ! ” “ Van.”—Sancho Panza is a character in the “ Don ment-room, and then the latest comer joins the rest, and The child probably destined to be the greatest of Quixote ” of Cervantes, a famous satire upon chivalry. takes his chances afterward of a chat. American naturalists is already born. He lives in T en The majority of educated men at the North are Republi­ Everything about New Year’s calls is as informal as nessee, and is the author of the remark that “ a jackass cans ; that will account for the ministers being of that possible, for gentlemen who have many to make come is the only animal that winks with his ears.” political stripe. and go with lightning-like rapidity, and often cannot Certainly, and as Often as Possible—Epigram “ Dilemma.”—The handkerchiefs are a very good idea. stay for refreshments, bat only to wish the regulation found written on the back of a bank-note—” A wee You should not get less than half a dozen. They should “ Happy New Years.” short while ye hae been mine, Nae longer can I keep ye; not cost less than a dollar each—$1.25. including the em­ “Mrs. H . N . W ." - corsets are only suitable I hope you’ll soon be back again, An bring anither like broidery. Our Purchasing Bureau could furnish them, fo r very slight forms. Our corsets, filled with durable ye! ” But this advice will probably come too late for you to substitutes for bones, are made in for $6.00, in Ju st like Them.—“ I apologize for saying you could execute the embroidery. Has he a dressing-gown or a satin jean for $5.00. Your alpaca is not worth brocaded not open your mouth without putting your foot in it,” handsome pocket and memorandum-book combined? silk, you might put a cheap woolen brocade with it, if said the editor to Mrs. Snagsby. “ I solemnly assure Doubtless either of these would be welcome, you could find one to correspond with the shade of you that when I said it I had no idea of the size of your "Mrs. A. H.” Use crimson dress flannel, or some brown. foot” other solid color in all wool for your little boy's dresses, “Mrs. A. W.”~A long, well-fitting cloth jacket would A Spoony newly-married couple at Bridgeport were and select any good princess pattern which is sim­ be the best permanent, inexpensive garment for you. It overheard billing and cooing. He—“ What would dovee ple and convenient. The combination knitted merino should be black diagonal or tricot cloth, and requires no do if pidgee died ? ” She—“ Dovee’d die, too.” Drug drawers are the best and most useful. They can now finish but facing of farmer’s satin for the stitching, and stores cost money—listeners didn’t have to buy emetics bought in any size. buttons. Such a jacket is good as long as it lasts. We for a year. do not know the address desired, nor can we give the “An Ardent Admirer.”—We do not exactly under­ Hold on dar,” said a colored address of individuals in this department unless some Sensible Darkey.—" stand your questions, in regard to New Year’s Day. You man, hailing an acquaintance. “ Does yer cross the say, “ Should callers be introduced individually to every public good requires it. We do not think that Mrs. street ebery time yer sees me, to keep frum payin’ dat member of the family? ” And again, “ Should a card be Wilson is writing another book at present. bill?” “No I doesn’t.” “What fur den?” “Ter inclosed in a separate envelope for each gentleman, “ L. D.”—Black armure, and lusterless black silks keep from being axed for it” generally, are mourning; and heavily trimmed with supposing there are two, or three, in a family ? ” My Train.—“ Is this my train ? ” asked a traveler The custom, in regard to New Year’s calling, may be handsome crape, would be “ deep ” mourning. Black armure is the best mourning silk. at the Grand Central Depot, of a lounger. “ I don’t different in your locality from what it is in New York. know,” was the doubtful reply. “ I see it’s got the But here only the ladies of a family receive, not the “Mrs. M .J. B.”—We do not flatter ourselves when we say that the best dressmaking chart yon can procure name of some railroad company on the side, and expect whole family, and, especially not the gentlemen, who are. it belongs to them. Have yon lost a train anywhere ? ” presumed to be out calling, as in duty bound, upon their you can get at this office, by applying to Madame Demorest lady friends. Sometimes, when there is only one lady , 17 East 14th Street. The simple reason is that Good Man Robert. —The late Rev. Dr. Symington, in a family, she invites ladies to receive with her; but, it was based, in the first place, on scientific principles, not feeling well one Sabbath morning, said to his beadle, unless she has several grown daughters, there is not capable of adaptation to the various changes in fashion, who was a “ character,” “ Man Robert, I wish you likely to be an embarrassment of numbers among the and has been carefully modified in its details in accord­ would preach for me the day.” “ I canna do that,” ladles receiving on New Year’s Day; and, so far from ance with the latest ideas. Long experience and actual promptly replied Robert; “ but I often pray for you.” having a difficulty in introducing callers to every lady knowledge have made Madame Demorest’s charts for ladies, and children also, as near perfection as it is pos­ Dark Philosophy.- Two darkies were vaunting present, there is usually a difficulty in getting ladies their own courage.—“ I isn’t ’feared o’ nothin’, I isn’t,” enough to attend to the callers. able to make guides in cutting, and a very little prac­ tice will make an intelligent dressmaker, by their said one. “ Den, Sam, I reckon yon isn’t feared to Refreshments are a matter of choice and convenience. meaner, perfect in fitting. The price- of the ladies’ chart loan me a dollar ? ” “ No, Julius, I isn't feared to loan Very many gentlemen do not partake of them at all, is $3.00, children’s chart, $1.50; a discount is made if pur­ you a dollah, but I does hate to part with on ole fren’ but they should be adapted to suit their taste. Pickled chased in quantity to sell again. for ebber.” oysters, chicken salad, sandwiches, a basket of cake, “J en.”—In almost all schools and colleges there are Philosophy is Good in the Absence of Everything fruit, olives, sardines, bouillon, coffee and lemonade, Else—One ought to get as much consolation as possible make a sufficient bill of fare. Perhaps your inquiry, in scholarships which are given to deserving students, or a provision by which a very earnest and energetic pupil out of one’s grievances, and most persons will admire regard to leaving cards for gentlemen, refers to “ La­ the cheerful and hopeful spirit of the colored man, who dies’ Day,” but that has long been obsolete in cities. may work out the tuition; but we know of no school in Kansas, or elsewhere, based entirely on this principle. when struck by lightning, simply rubbed the abraded “ A. B.”—Beaver hats are more fashionable than felt. Perhaps some Kansas subscriber can enlighten “ Jen ” spot of his skull, and remarked, “ flat makes free times We do not know how brown hair can be bleached to on the point. Tilton & Co. of Boston have published a I’ve been struck; now I shouldn’t wonder if it let me white; and, if we did, we should not want to tell of it, series of manuals on art which would probably be about alone.” for fear some foolish person would make the experi­ what you would need. As for “ literature,” it is not Sitting Still.—Says a writer in the P a r i s i a n “ I do ment regardless of consequences. The hair is dressed contained in manuals, or any “ two ” books. Cut your not know which is the more exasperating, an American very simply this season. It is merely waved, and coiled hair regularly, it is better than shingling it. woman tilting to and fro in a rocking-chair, or a German at the back, where It is fastened with a comb, or one or woman knitting, knitting, knitting, until the needles two immense hairpins. “Mrs. A. B.”—Walking-skirts are still short and nar­ row, and ruffles are slip-stitched or lightly basted, so as seem so many. restless, shining imps. I fancy that it “ A Devoted Admirer.”—The combination suits of not to show the stitches upon the outside. When stitch­ requires very high degrees of— of—breeding to enable wool and plush, or wool and velvet, are the latest and ing is seen, it is mode so neat, and in so many rows, as women to sit still, quite still, not to rock, or do fancy most elegant costumes for visiting and church wear. to be ornamental and used as trimming. work, or even sway a fan to and fro.” They include hat, muff, jacket, and trimmed skirt—the “Mrs. H. S. L.”—The Rose Darner will fit the Something About Daughters.—” There’s something three former of velvet or plush in a solid color, the lat­ Singer, but not the Secor sewing machine. ter of wool trimmed with velvet. There is no contrast about your daughter,” Mr. Wanghop said reflectively; Any of our readers who will send their address to the of color, only of fabric. “ there’s something about your daughter.” “ Yes, Toilet Mask Co., 1165 Broadway, New York, will re­ said old Mr. Thistlepod, “ there is. I had noticed it “ Busy Bee.”—The following Is the story of Emily ceive without charge a Descriptive Treatise explaining myself. It comes every evening at eight o’clock, find Geiger: Gen. Greene was very desirous to send a mes­ how to obtain a pure and faultless complexion without does not get away usually till about twelve o'clock. sage to Gen. Sumter to join his forces and aid him in using poisonous cosmetics, powders, etc. We hope that And some of these nights I am going to lift It all the attacking Lord Rawdon. There were so many tories our lady friends will avail themselves of this liberal way from the front parlor to the side gate and see what scattered all about the country, no one would consent offer. there is in it.”