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 GODEY'S

LADY'S BOOK

MAGAZINE.
EDITED BT

MRS. SARAH J. HALE,

AND LOUIS A. GODEY.

VOL. LXVII.-FROM JULY TO DECEMBER,

186 3.

PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY LOUIS A. GODEY,
323 CHESTNUT STREET.
 PHILADELPHIA :

COLLINS, PRINTER, 705 JArifE STREET.



TABLE OF CONTENTS.
YOL: LXVII.
A Broken Fortnne, 147 Slimmer Mantle (Tlltt^rated), 63
Acrostic. To Mrs. ., hv Lfwifi Torsnn Voigt^ 69 Summer Talma (TlJuJitrftted), 121
ActiuR CImrarte. Wedlock, by A. 31 DuWy, 244 Summer Wrap (Illtistrnted). 120
A Discreet Wile, 440 The Audalu-siau, from Brudit; (Illustrated)^ 24
A Disli of Fi>ibles, by Mrs. C. S .
324 The Balraerino Sack (lUuMrated), 403
After Tea Ye;irs of Wedded Life, by John Calvin 1 he Caipe [Illustrnttd), frum Brodie, 509
aUchdl. 319 The Castilian, from Brodif [Illustrated), 213
*'
All Alone,'" by LUi/ Ltn, o.Vi The Central Park Jacket {lUustrnted), 265
Alphabet of FMQcy Letters (/U*(raietl), 414 The Cordovan, from Brodie {lUttstrated)^ 300
A Netted Tidy tTlhuitraied), 179 The Darro, from Brodip (Illustrated), 400
A New Mode of Prtiating in Oil, by a Contributor^ 177 The Geraldine {Illustrated), 304
A new Style of Crochet Friuge illtnstruit;d), S9 The Masetto Wrap (rUuxtrfded)^ 402
A new Style of Girdle {Illustrated), 471 The Oleaves Cloak (Tllnstrnied)^ 404
A Party, and what caine of by M^try Mayfidd^
it, 241 The Pesota Sacque {Illnstnded), 405
A Pensive Ode for Pensive Hearts, by Frtderick The Polish Jacket (lllnstrnted), fi08
WrigM, 563 The Pompeiau Cloak (Illnntrnttd), 400, 401
Aprons (lUustratM, S3, 17.5, 306, 465 The Toledo, from Brodie (IllustrcUed), 124
A Sifb for the Absent Sprina, by W. S. Gnffnt-y, 451 Winter Sacque {Illus(rnted), 509
A Slit;lit Sketch of Miss .lumble's Career, by Hersel/, 48 Alexandra (flliu<(ti-ottd),
('oiflTure 21
A Sudden Shower {Ittu.<itruted)t U5 Coiffure Horlense (Illu^strated), 511
A True Ghost St.iry, by K. L.. 461 Coiffure for a Youni,' Lady {IllustrntetT), 20, 107
Aunt Esther's \Varnin^'-pan, by Mrs. D. P. .5., 127 Coiaures (lllnstrated), 20, 21, 23. S2, li>. 173, 215, 2t)3, 511
Aunt Sophie's Visits, by the late. Lucy iV. Godfrey, 355 Collar in Waved-Lacet Braid {Illuslrattd), 267
A Warm Over-Shoe in Crochet (Illwlrnled), 675 Collars {Illustrntad), 2C7
A Wreath for Mattie E. S hy Jtnnie, , 136 Corner fur a Handkerchief {Illustrated), 472
A Youns Man in Search of a Quiet Home (Illustratetf). 399 Corsages (IlluMrated), 302, 303
Bead Bracelet and Chain, 86 Cottage in the Italian Style {Ulustrated}^ 3S6
Bibs (Illm'trated), 269 Cottages, etc. (lUusfrfited), 104, 194, 3S6
Bird-Case Border in Crochet {Illustrated), S66 Cravate Maria Theresa (Illustrated), 3G5
BonneU (Illustrated), 216, 262, 466 Crochet Pelerine {Illustrated)^ 514, 573
Braided Slipper \IUustrnle.d), 475 Crochet Purse (Illustrated), 367
Braided Top of Pincushion {Illustrated), 364 Crochet Sock {lUvstrnted), SS
Braiding Pattern for a Lady's Cravat {Illustrated), 85 Crochet TrimmiuiC (Ilhuitrntp.d), 471
Braiding Pattern for the End of a Silk or Sluslin Tie Design for Berlin Work (Illustrated), 370
{Illustrated). 474 Dress Trimming {lUustratfid), 411
Braiding Patterns {Illustrated), 85, 91, 174, 264, 271, 306, Edging in Wavy Braid and Crochet (Illustrated), 367, 474
364, 370, 372, 408, 409, 468, 472, Editors' Tahle, containing
474, 475, 613, 613, 316, 675, 578 Aluranse Association of the WesleyanFemaleCoUege, 3Tb
Brother Richard, by Grace Gardner, 452, .535 Anglo-Saxon Weddings of the Olden Times, 480
Call me thine tjwn, by Kate Harrington, 361 Borrowed Feathers, 9t>
Cape {lllustratid). 364 Christmas is Coming, 682
Caps {Illustrated), 362
83, 263, Common Sense, and How to Gain it, 97
Carriage Boot {Illustrated), 674 Deaconess' Institutions and Protestant Sisterhoods, 5fi3
Carrie Harding, by .V, Annie Frost, 30 English Novel-Writers, 4fttt

Chemistry for the Young, 106, 196 2S5, 388 Eugenie De Guerin, 378
Cheerful Music. 170 Extract from a. Letter to the Editress, 377
Chemisettes {Illustrated), 172 263, 362 "Faith," 277
Child's Braided Bib and Band {Illustrated), 269 by Lillian,
Faith, not Sight, 4S1
Child's Braided Shoe {Illustrated), 270, 271 German Dramatists, 450
Cloaks, Drk^ses, Maxtili.as, Talmas, Ac. Literary Women during the Tear 1863, 5S2
A Greek Girl {Illustrated), 409 Meraiy's Song, by Clio Stanley, 563
A Roman Girl {Illustrated), 409 Mistakes in Language, 6S3
Children's Dresses {Illustrated), 465 Mrs. Alice B. Haven, 47.^
Child's Sack {Illustrated), 264 Mrs. Mason and Woman's Mission to Woman, 5S4
Dinner-dress {IlUuttrated), 210, 211 New York Medical College for Women, 481
Dress for a little Girt of Ten Tears {Illristrated).
uted ), 607 Obituary, ^7
Dress for a Miss {Illustrated), 606 Oar National Thanksgiving, 276
Fall Sack for a little Bov {Illustrated), 467 Pamphlets, &7
Fall Wrap for a little Girl {Illu.ltrateiX), 467 Pianos, 167
Fancy Paletot for the Country (Ilhtstrated), 18 School for TouDg Girls, 378
Foulard Kobe {Illustrated), 118, 197 Sensation Novels, 186
Garibaldi Suit {Illustrated), 264 Stanzas, by L. S. D. L., Til
Gored Morning Robe {Illustrated), 214 "The Pen is Mightier than the Sword,'* 277
Grenadine Dress {Illu-itrated), 119, 197 The Sin of Extravagance, 480
Henry IV. Costume {Illu.stratedj, 407 The Widows of the War, 277
Home-dress {Illustrated), 468 Troy Female Seminary, 4Sl
Latest Style of Riding-dress {Illustrated), 208 209, 237 Valedictory Address, 1S7
Latest Style White Grenadine Dress {Illustrated), 16 WhitestowD Seminary, 277
Lonjnmeau Jacket {Illustrated), 301 Woman Her Place in the Church, 376
Misses' Street Sack {Illustrated), 174 Woman Her Place in the Plan of Redemption, JS5
Morning R.,be {Illustrated). 19, 212 Woman In her Marriage Relation, 275
October Walking Suit {Illustrated), 298 Woman In her Perfection, 95
October Wrap {Illustrated), 2.<19 Effects of Wine, 142
Organdie Dress {Illustrated), 17 Ellen Jaynes's Resolution a Story for Wives,
;
2-59
Paletot for a little Girl {Illustrated), 467 Embroidered Initialslbr a Pillow-case (Ilhistrfded), 91, 161
Polish Dress and Louis XIV. Costume {IUustrated),iOS Embroidery for Corner of Handkerchief (Illustrated), 576
Riding-jacket (Ill'tstrated). 362 Embroidery for Front of Slipper {Illustrated), 576
Spanish Mantilla {Illu-itrated), 122, 12.3 Embroidery for Side of Slipper (Illustrated), Vtl
IV TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Embroidery. Inserting, 4c. (lUuflrated), 18. 19. S7. 89, Iam Old and Gray, by Jos. M. Stewart, 14
90, 91. 174, ISO, 181. 270, 271, 370, 400. 401, 407, Not Lost Forever, by James M. tiiewart, 412
470, 472, 473, 506, 607, 611, 617, 6^0, 676, 077, 078 Ritck me to Sleep, by W. Delesdernier, 116
Errors, 440 My Ca-ket of Gems, by Mrs. Wu/verton, 668
Evening, by Catluirine Mitchell 239 My iiister-in-Law. by 0. J. M., 81
Excellence, fir Names for Marking {Illustrated), 87, 167, 214, 474
fancy ."Mphabet f.ir Marking ^Illustrated), 26, 126, 372 Keck-tie and Cuff (Illustrated), 90, 174
Fancy Apron, with Pointed Girdle {Illiistrated)^ 306 Netted Burder (Illustrated), 25, 87
Fancy Bag (lUuMrnted), 369 New Styles for Cor-ages (Illustrated), 302
Fiincv Bow for a Child's Hat (Illustrated), 677 Novelties for the Month (IWd), 82, 172, 262, 362, 464, 569
Fancy Coiffures (UhtMrnted), 23. 107 Original Designs (Illustrtded), 676, 577
Fancy Pattern for Perforated Card-board (Illustrated), 572 (lur Gal, by Mary Furiuan, 137
Fancy Pen-wiper {Illustrated), 515 Our Musical Column, 99, 204, 312, 401, 495, 681
Fancy Spencer {lUustritteii), 617
Our Sentimental J-oirney Lay 2. Bones and I, by
Fancy Tiinimin^' [Illustrated), 90 Harry Hiirewoud Leech, 14.3
Fancy Watch-case {Illustrated), 305 Patchwork (Illustrnted), 264
Fashions, 106, 196, 286, 389, 490, 591 Pattern for Netting nr Crochet (Illustrated), 270, 468
French Corsage {Illnstrnted), 303, 389 Patterns from Madame Demorests Kslablishraent
Friendship Endanj^ered, by S. Annie Frost {IlVd.), 434 (IllustriUed), 173, 265, 363
Fruit Culiure, 3S4 Peace, hj J. B. W., 319
Garden Structures {Illustrated), 27 Plato, 81
Gentleman's Braces in Crochet Silk {Illustrated), 266 Point Lace (Illustrated), 270, 474
Gentleman's Driving Gloves {Illustrated), 613, 573 Practical Lessons in Drawing (Illust'd), SO, 258, 353, 4-59
Gentleman's Flannel Shirt {Illustrated), 178 Porpo.se in Life, 4.S2
Gentleman's Knickerbocker Stocking {Illustrated), 176 Purses (Illustrated), 309, 365, 367
Get Knowledge, by F. S. C, 147 Raising a Beard (Illustrated), 205
Class Bead Mat (Illustrated), 410 Eeccipts, ic, 92, 183, 272, 373, 476, 679
Glove Trimming (/HiMfra/erf), 266 Rita's Maslei-, by Mary W. Janvrin, 264
Qodey's Arm-Chair, 100, 190. 280, 381, 48S, 586 Ruff for a Youug Girl, 89
fjossip about Gloves, %'tZ Rural Residence (Illustrated), 104, 194
Growing Poor Gracefully, by Melirutt Irwin, 252 Rustic Ornaments (illustrated), 263, 371, 470
Hallowed be Thy Name, by Rei). H. Hastings Weld Safely Skating Frame {Illustrated), 505
(Illuntrated), 15S Shoes {Illu-itriited), 270
Hals and Faces at a Watering-place (Illustrated), 13 Short Night-dress (Illustrated), 620
Headdresses {Illustrated), 22. 82, 125, 362, 464 Skating for Ladie-, by J. M. L. 666
Health Department, 97, 187, 277, 371), 481, 584 Slate-pencil Drawings (lUuslreUed), 171
Heroines, bv Augusta H. W(*rthen. 227 Sleeves (Illustrated), 173, 365, 363
How the Kye is Swept and Washed, 223 Spanish Opera Hood (Illustrated), 692
'
Husks," by IllnrUm Uiirland, 62, 1.69 Temper, 847
Hunting Gloves (Illvstrated), 469 Thanksgiving, by S. G. B., 429
Hyacinth Cottage, by Mary W. Janvrin, 70 The Broken Lyre, by Sara, 640
I Can't Afford It, by M. 31. Barrett, 438 The Casket of the Year, by Willie E. Pahor, 01, 142. 261,
Infants, 69 332, 440, 647
Initial Letters for Braiding (Illustrated), 615 The Child's Dream, by E.
,S. H 40
Initial Letters for Maiking (IllustriUed), 410 The Christmas Gifl, by
Mellirent Irwin, 561
la Memoriara, 148 The Coiffure Calisle (Illustrated), 216
Insertion arranged for Colored Ribbon or Velvet The Comedy of an Evening, by Marian Douglas, 65
(Ill'jstrated), 91 The Daily Governess, by Mary Forman, (Illust'd), 656
Insertion for Muslin (Illustrated), IS, 90 The Faded Flower, by Flora, 469
Insertion for Skirts {Illustrated), 370, 400, 617 The Fatal Bridegroom, by M. E. D., 346
Insertion in Embroidery {Illustrated), 87 The Future, 640
Instructions for Knitted Milieus and Cuffs, 369 The Lesson on the Flageolet (Illustrated), 290
It might have Been, by Klizn Frances Mnriarty, 428 The Lover's Pride, 29
1 see Thee when the Twilight Folds, by Una, 345 The Maria Theresa Cravat (Illustrated), 22. 107
Jackets (Illustrated), 608 The Marvels and Mysteries of a Seed, 39
John Broad, 224 Tiie Modem Cinderella or, the Blue-spangled Slipper,
;

Juvenile Department, containing by Metta Victoria Victor, 337

Charades in Tableaux. 103, 195, 285 The Niece of Judge H umphreys, by Virginia F. Town-
Evening Prayer {Illustrated), 103 send, 41
Fairy Tale Tableau. 385 The Old Barn at Home, by George Cooper, 223
Miscellaneous Arausement^s, 385 TheOld Love, by Clara Augusta, 140
Mother Goose Tableau, 690 The Orphan, 432
The Sabbath Day (Illustrated), 488 The Psyche Butterfly for Headdresses (Illust'd), 610, 570
Knitted Artificial Flowers, 269 The Pursuit of Wealth under Difficulties, by Eltie
Knitted Gauntlet (Illustrated), 1612, .572 EUon, 230, 320
Lady's Purse {llln.Hrated), 30t, 355 The Rain, by Earnest BenUe, 40
Ladies' Vest (Illustrat'd), 363 The Rights of Women, 229
Latent Parisian Styles of Headdresses, etc. (/Kwjf'd), 125 The Seasons of the Heart, by Furbush Flint, 534
Latest Styles of Aprons (Illuslraled), 175 The Sisters' School, by S. Annie Frost (Illustrated), ;i20
Latest Style of Bonnets (Illustrated), 216 The Soldier's Wayside Dream, by S. F. Flint, 170
Leah Moore's Trial, by Mnriein Hnrland, .307, 416 The Story of " Fair Mab-I," by Beata, 433
Legend upon the Invention of Lace, by ilrs. H. C. The Vertical Railway, by tlie aiUhor of ^^Experiences
Ciyvant, 655 at the Seashore," 348
Lines, by Mrs. Jennie J}. Langdon, 354 The Village with one Gentleman. A Parlor Drama,
Lines to ,
158 by Marian Douglas, 333
I.iterarv Notices, 98, 188, 278, 379, 482, 584 The' Watch Pincushion (Illustrated), 473
Little Boy's Belts (Illustrated). 268 The War of the Roses, by Daisy Howard, 217
Little Girl's Crochet Under Petticoat (Illustrated), 84 Thoughts on the Past, 346
Jfargaret Darling, by Virgi7da F. Townsend, 549 Tidies (Illustrated), 179
Mary, by G. II. S. Hull, 251 Toilet Mat in Crochet (Illustrated), 616
Meta. A Christmas Story, by S. Annie Frost, 641 Transplanted, by W. Derler Smith, Jr., 229
Mignardise Work (Illustrated), 366 Trides, 47
Miriam's Duty, by J. E. W., 149 Tnft Netting in Wool and Cotton (Illustrated), 180
Mr. and Mrs. Pidgeon's Visit to their City Friends, by Twilight Musings, by Estelle Beatrice, 261
Emily B. Carroll, 246 ITndersleeves (Illustrated), 172, 255
Mrs. Vining's "Help," by Mary W. Janvrin, 441 W^hat a Jealous Man saw on Christmas Eve, by Ma-
Mnffatee (IUustr<Ued), 671 rion norland, 621
Music When Thou art Near, bv J. Brainerd Morgan, 336

Music Autumn Schottische. by Qeorge E. Fawxtt, 296 White Muslin Bow {Illustrated), 84
Estapha March, by J. Starr Hnllmoay, S)8 Why Don't He Come ? by CtUliarine Mitchdl, 560
Forget Ttaee No'.! \>y James McWilliamt,
I S06 Widows, 134, 2.39 45
i)[)^ Yx^wwvvm ^^^^i '( (' (iV mM
( ) , )
 HATS AND FACES AT A WATERING-PLACE.
TBUTHFCL AND SATIRICAL.

vol.. I.XVIl. 13
 ill IWIP lttPg
WRITTENBy LIEUT. A.T.LEE, U^S J
COMPOSED FOR THE PIANO-FORTE, FOB GODEY's LADY'S BOOK,

BY JAS. M. STEWART.

%^~z :S=^ -ii=i-

:|s:zt==j!r=jfc:
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1. I am old and i^raj, I am old aod ,e:ray, And my
2. They bear jne back, they bear lae back. To the

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field of youth and its flow - 'ry track, When my step -was light and my
 I AM OLD AND GRAY.

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heart wns
is K'one,
bold,
s^^m^ig
And her
And my
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gaie on the glad ones who lin - per here. To breathe their 6we*?t songs on my a - ged ear.
gaze OQ fuU ma - ny a Bmil - lag brow That sleeps in the still old charch-yard now.

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It wrung my heart, it wrung my heart, t am old and gray, I am old and gray.
To see them one by one depart, But I've strength enough left me to kneel and pray,
And it cost me fall many a tear of woe. And morning and evening I bless the power
For my hopes then hung on the things below ; Tlia^t woke me to light in the midnight hour
But the visions of earthly joy grf>w dim That tipared ine to gaze with an aged eye
With the wbiteaing hair and the failing limb. On a hope that can never fade or die.
 LATEST STYLE.

Dress of white grenadine, with bouquets of gay flowers tlirown over it. A
fluted flounce of sea-

on edge of skirt. The tablier and corsage trimmings are also of green silk. White
green silk is the tlie

straw hat, trimmed with a black l.ice scarf and a bunch of wild flowers.

IG
17
 INSERTION FOR MUSLIN.

.o<^^- -^

FANCY PALETOT, FOR THE COUNTRY.

g'-iia!im5gmLiiiiL8mj mi5 ! S^
It will require two and a half yards of clotla, or five yards of silk to make this paletot. Either
mohair or silk hraid can be used The two braids which form the cable should be
for the braiding.
worked at the same time, so that they may be turned over and under alternately each link. The out-
line only of the anchors should be braided, the inner part being formed of velvet or cloth.
18
 EMBKOIDEET.

MORNING EOBE.

Trimmed do<vn the front with a graduated piece, scalloped on each edge, and
finished with a row
of insertion and magicraffling, neatly fluted. The sleeves and sash are trimmed in the same style.
19
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FANCY COIFFURES, -(."ve de.icriphon, Fashion departmaiC]
Fig. 1.

23
 THE ANLALTJSIAN.
[From the establishmenl of 0. Brodie, 51 Ciiiial Street, New York. Drawn by L. T. VoioT, from actual
articled of Costume.]

Amonc the parti^ssus of the season we think none snrpass the heautv of this charmin<r yanety :

attraction. Tlie stuff of which it is

the oiUt eives a dash of piquancvr that adds greatly to its
popular
made is taffeta, with drop bullous falling from macarons, and adorned with the universally
braid-wrought embroidery.
24
 NETTED BORDER.
(See deicription, Work Department.)
VOL. LXTII.
25
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26
 GODEY'S
Jcibg's ^ook mxd gfaga^int
PHILADELPHIA, JULY, 1863.

GARDEN STRUCTURES. TRELLISES.

Fif. 1.

Whether a garden he large or small, there the ground about two feet at regular distances.
which it may not be im-
are few instances in The part that is let into the ground may be
proved by means of some sort of rustic-work, made even more durable by giving it a coat of.

in the way of trellised arches or fences, either pitch, or by holding it in a fire till the part is

for the purpose of dividing one part of the gar-
den from another, or simply as an ornament in
some suitable spot. 'The simplest form of trellis
is a low fence composed of hazel stakes, driven
into the ground in a slanting direction, with
others crossing them at right
these may
be joined together by tying them at
the top with pieces of thin copper wire, or
slightly nailing tliem. This sort of fence an-
swers admirably for training nasturtiums or
blackened or ch.arred, but not burned away.
This has a wonderful effect in adding durability
to the wood in resisting damp, which is the
first thing to be guarded against. When the
posts are in their places, and firmly rammed
angles ; and down, it is advisable to tie them together wkh
stakes cut to the required length, and then
proceed to nail hazel rods crosswise, or in any
ornamental style and this is easily suggested
on the spot it may also be a means of testing
;

sweet peas, whicli may be sown close to it, and the ingenuity of the operator, as it is never
allowed to trail over it. Such a fence will last advisable to copy from others in such matters,
several years ; but if it is desired to make it since it ought not to be lost sight of that the
more durable, or carry it higher, it will be surroundings, which may tally well with one
necessary to make it stronger with stout posts style, may not suit another.
of the required height ; these should be let into Wire trellises may be got ready made, and
27
 28 godet's lady's book and magazine.

Fig. 2.

and often elegant pat-

also wire arches of neat the place and if a person can only spare the
;

terns, which have only to be fixed in tlieir time necessary for building them, there is not
places and these are sometimes fixed over
;
otherwise any great expense incurred. When
pathways, where climbing plants are trained well done and judiciously placed, they add ex-
over them ; indeed, the chief uses of trellises ceedingly to the interesting features of a gar-
and rustic-work of this kind is for the purpose den. The accompanying designs are to be
of supporting climbing plants a most import- carried out in larch poles or oak saplings,
ant section, comprising some of the most orna- always with the bark on they are useful for
;

mental plants in cultivation, and will be sure
to add an interesting feature to any garden
where a little attention is given to them, and
that of a suitable kind.
Garden trellises may be made both durable
throwing across a walk at any part where a
semi-division of the ground is required where
the more highly dressed portion of the ground
merges into the wilderness, the fernery, the
rose-garden, etc. or may encircle any special
;

and exceedingly ornamental, by using suitable nook set apart for any special purpose. These
material, and exercising a little taste in the sorts of things will hardly look amiss anywhere,
arrangement of it in doing this there may be
; as they would be, of covered with
course,
an endless diversity of form and pattern in the climbers as roses, honeysuckles, jasmines,
disposition of the smaller pieces ; and, if well pyracantha, cotoneaster, clematis, etc. ; or
done, nothing adds more to the general effect otherwise with ivy a class of plants, generally
of a garden, however small but it is a too
; speaking, too little grown. The distance from
common have them of deal wood,
practice to column to column may be regulated according
both posts and laths cut straight and planed to circumstances as also their height
; but ;

smooth, and generally painted green, which from seveu to eight feet in the width of open-
takes off all from their appearance,
rusticity ings, and from seven to nine feet in the height
until they are completely covered with such of columns, will be about tlie best proportions ;

plants as are allowed to trail over them. In
these structures a certain air of rusticity should
be a characteristic feature, and where a person
is at all capable of doing the work, it is
to do sothan to employ a carpenter who does
his work by line and rule. We do not think
we can do better here than to copy the follow-
ing from the " Gardeners' Weekly Magazine
and Ploricultural Cabinet," which applies very
much to the point, and expresses most of what
we would say : most beautiful ornaments to a garden."
" The chief requisites for the structures here
figured, are generally to be found growing upon
of course using the greatest height where the
columns are furthest apart, and vice versa. The
principal posts should be about five to seven
better inches in diameter, and the filling-up stuff
about two inches. The iron bows over Figs. 1
and 3 are formed of round iron rods, five-eighths
of an inch in diameter. Collectors of climbing
plants cannot adopt a better mode of display-
ing them than these trellises ;when covered
with species and varieties of clematis, they are
One of the best climbing plants for trellises
is jasminum nudiflora the yellow naked flow-
 GARDEN STBUCTUKES. TRELLISES. 29

Fig. 3.

ering jasmine ; it flowers freely in the winter, filling up in a most effective style what would
and makes a fine dense foliage in the summer ;
otherwise be a most unsightly comer.
it will grow in any soil or situation, and requires

no extra treatment beyond what is required by

ordinary climbers, that is, to be neatly trained,
and never allowed to make any extra growth TiTE LovEit"s Pripe. I believe there is no

before tying up. Clematis flamula, or the period of life so happy as that in which a thriv-
sweet-scented virgin's flower, is another climber ing lover leaves his mistress after his first

exceedingly well adapted to cover a trellised success. His joy is more perfect then than at
archway it gives out a delicious perfume when
; the absolute moment of his own eager vow, and
in flower, in July and August. Cotoneaster her half-assenting blushes. Then he is thinking
macrophylla will also give satisfaction on ac- mostly of her, and is to a certain degree embar-
count of its red berries. Many sorts of roses rassed by the effort necessary for success. But
will also be found highly ornamental when when the promise has once been given to him,
allowed to trail over arches and trellis-work ; and he is able to escape into the domain of his
but although, as before mentioned, climbing own he is as a conqueror who has
heart,
plants ought never to be allowed to wear any mastered half a continent by his own strategy.
appearance of neglect, and should be fastened It never occurs to him, he hardly believes that

up in time to prevent that unsightly appearance his success is no more than that which is the
that always accompanies tying up, after allow- ordinary lot of mortal man. He never reflects

ing them to grow as they please for too long a that all the old married fogies he knows whom
time, still they look none the better for being and despises, have just as much ground for
trained in too closely or with any degree of pride, if such pride were enduring that every ;

formality a certain natural and easy look

; fat, silent, dull, somnolent old lady whom he

about these trellis plants will always have a sees and quizzes, .has at some period been
most pleasing effect. It would be impossible deemed as worthy a prize as his priceless gal-
to enumerate all the various plants suitable for leon : so deemed by as bold a captor as
and
the purpose of clothing garden trellises with a himself. Some one has said that every young
verdant covering they are very numerous,
; mother, when her first child is born, regards
comprising both annuals and perennials. Of the babe as the most wonderful production of
the former, tropeolnms, convolvulus, cobea that description which the world has yet seen.
scandens, etc., may be taken as examples, And this, too, is true. But I doubt even
they being the most common. Others die down whether that conviction is so strong as the
every year, as everlasting peas, and some sort conviction of the young successful lover, that
of clematis but the best are those tliat live on,
; he has achieved a triumph which should enno-
as the honeysuckle, the jasmine, the glycine, ble him down to late generations. As he goes
or wistaria and not the least worthy of note
; along he has a contempt for other men for ;

is which makes a fine evergreen wall or

ivy, they know nothing of such glory as his. As he
fence for hiding one part of the ground from pores over his Bhciflone, he remembers that
another, or covering in an unsightly corner. he does so, not so much that he may acquire
Speaking of this, we have seen some beautiful law, as that he may acquire Fanny and then ;

arches built of burrs and shells, having both
v.ariegated and plain leaved ivy trailing about
them, but not enough to hide the burrs and
shells, yet presenting a due proportion of each,
3*
all other porers over Blackstone are low and
mean in his siglit are mercenary in their
views, and unfortunate in their ideas, for they
have no Fanny in view.
 CAREIE HARDING.
3T 8. ANNIE

"What are you studyiog so earnestly, large, Imrried order required constant work.
Carrie f" Then, seeing the child's love for books and
" French verbs, mother. Miss Delattre said study, she began to teach her her own musical
I was backward in my verbs and, as she is so ; language, and felt a real pleasure in hearing
kind as to teach me her language for nothing, the well-loved accents from the fresh girlish
the least I can do is to try to be a credit to my voice.
teacher." "There ! I know it !" and Carrie laid aside
" Right I you are right, Carrie. Learn all her book and came close to her mother's side.
you can now, it will come of use some time, " Mother, do you feel sick to-night? You are
be sure of that." And the widow sighed as so pale, and your lips look dry and parched."
her eye rested on the intelligent face raised to "My head aches," and Mrs. Harding leaned
hers, regretting the limited advantages accorded wearily back in her chair, letting the sewing
to the child. fall from her listless fingers.
True, she went to the public school, but there Carrie placed a soft, cool hand on her mother's
were many times when Mrs. Harding's illness forehead, whispering, in low, loving accents
kept the uncomplaining little girl in her room "Poor mamma I dear mamma! Lie down and
for weeks at a time. rest!"
Mrs. Harding was the widow of a sea-cip- " No, no ! this must be done to night," said
tain ;and of seven children, Carrie was the her mother, taking up the sewing.
only one who had survived her infancy. Carrie "I will finish it! Oh dear, I can't it is

was, at the time my story opens, in her thir- embroidery ! I must learn
Oh, to embroider.
teenth year, tall, but very slender, with a pale, mamma, how wish I could help you I"I

thin face, lightedby large brown eyes, of won- " You do help me, Carrie. Think how little
derful intelligence. Accustomed from her earli- I should get done if I had to stop to run home

est childhood to he her mother's comfort and with work, to make the bed, dust, sweep, or
support, her willing little hands were fitted for do all the labor my little girl does so handily."
many a task suited to older years. To cook " I will make you a cup of tea now, and see
their simple meals, to take care of the room, not take the pain from that poor head."
if it will

and help her mother to sew were her daily And, pleased with the idea of relieving her
tasks; and when illness came, Carrie's busy mother, Carrie hummed a merry little tune as
hands finished the work her mother was un- she proceeded with her labor of love.
able to complete, and took it home. In the The tea did not prove a sufficiently powerful
same house, where Mrs. Harding rented a room, remedy, and Mrs. Harding was forced to lay
there lived an old French lady, who earned an aside the work, and resign herself to Carrie's
humble livelihood by making artificial flowers. nursing. The next morning, rising softly and
She had lived for years in this little house, dressing herself, Carrie was preparing to get
and none suspected her of being born to a breakfast,when a moan from the bed startled
higher station than the one she filled ; but her her. She went towards it. Mrs. Harding lay
history was one quite common, but not less with her eyes staring wide open, a bright color
mournful on that account. She had been a in her cheeks, herlips parted, breathing heavily.
lady of rank and fortune, driven from her home "Mamma!" said Carrie, uneasily, for she
by_the Revolution, and obliged to turn the had never seen her mother look so before.
pretty art she had learned to decor.ate her own "Go away," said her mother, turning her
rooms and vases, into a means of gaining her eyes towards her daughter, without one ray of
daily bread. From their first meeting, there recognition in them. " Go away !"
had been a cordial feeling between Mrs. Harding "Go away, mamma? Will you send away
and Miss Delattre and the old French lady
; your own little Carrie?" And the child bent
especially loved the active, handy little Carrie. over her, and kissed the hot cheeks.
She had taught her to cut and form the many- "I tell you go away!" cried Mrs. Harding.
colored muslins into flowers, and was repaid " Iknow what you want. You want to persuade
by many an hour of active assistance when a Harry to go to sea again without me ! Harry,
30
 "

CARRIE HARDIXG. 31

don't leave me I It is so lonely when yon are sorrow. Many tears were shed as she and her
away ! Our babies are all dead, Harry ; dou't kind old friend t.ilked over the loved cne who
leave me all aloue 1" w.as gone but they were quiet tears, and she
;

The tears started into Carrie's eyes at the became resigned to the will of Providence, and
mournful pathos of her mother's voice, and calm in proportion as she felt willing to submit.
then she drew in her breath quickly with Her days passed quietly, but were not witli-
terror, for it was the first time she had ever ont their pleasures. Miss Delattre, who loved
seen delirium. What could ail her mother I
her intensely, took her from school, to super-
" Mamma, dear mother, don't you know me f intend, herself, her studies. It was a pleasant
she said pleadingly. sight to see the old lady, with bu^y fingers,
" Ilush 1" said her mother, "don't you hear shaping the leaves which the child cut and
the waves f Under the waves far away at I
handed to her, and all the while listening to
sea ! Dead ! dead and he could not bid me
!
the recit.itions the one was giving.
little .\s
good-bye. I couldn't go ! They wouldn't let French from constant intercourse with her in-
Lim take me and the b.iby I Carrie Where
1
structor became easier, Carrie gradually ft-U
is my baby Did she die too f"
? into the habit of using it instead of her own
"lam here, mother. Your own little Car- tongue, and reciting her lessons in history or
rie !" sobbed the child. geography in her teacher's own language.
"Don't cry," said Mrs. Harding, looking Her mother had been dead some months,
earnestly at her ; "don't cry. We must all die. when her room was taken by a gentleman, a
It 's only that some are called earlier than middle aged man. with light hair and a heavy
others." beard, whose violin and piano preceded him,
Frightened now beyond lier powers of control, and who met the cliild in the entry with a
the child left hor mother's side to seek assist- grunt and a nod of approval.
ance. Miss Delattre answering her loud, ter- She gave him a sly. but graceful salutation,
rified knock, accompanied her back to the room. her eye wandering curiously to the open piano,
One glance showed her how the case was, and visible through the door.
she calmed Carrie effectually by telling her " You knows him, ha?" said the gentleman,
life perhaps depended upon
that her mother's following the glance.
careful, quiet nursing. Loving, as she did, the "Sir?"
only parent she had ever known, Carrie con- "You plays him ?"
trolled her grief by an effort, marvellous in one "No, sir!"
so young, and started to go for a doctor. " You have hear' him ?"
Miss Delattre, seeing the impropriety of leav- "No, sir."
ing her friend entirely in the charge of a mere " Come in, come in I plays him for yon."
I

child, brought the table with her articles of Carrie followed him into the room full of
toil npon it, and set down to await the arrival curiosity, wondering what the queer looking
of Carrie with the doctor. instrument could be.
A few days of violent illness bitter days, The first chord made her eyes open wide with
during which the poor child obtained not one delighted surprise. A hand organ and the hu-
glance of recognition and love, and then Carrie man voice were the only mediums through
Harding was motherless. which the child had ever heard music, and t'ais
was like opening a new world. The musician.
" She shall come into my room. I teach her amused and pleased by the unaffected delight
my trade. She shall live with me !" said Miss betokened in the eager face and large daik
Delattre, when the question how to dispose of eyes, played one simple air after another when ;

the child came up. he ceased, Carrie, drawing a deep breath, and
These were days and nights of bitter, monm- unconsciously using one of her old friend's ex-
'
fnlsorrow but, young as she was, Carrie had
; clamations, whispered: " C'est magnifique :

been taught by a pious parent where to look Her own delight in the music w.-is equalled
for comfort, and Miss Delattre, a sincere, ear- by the expression of the musician's face.
nest Christian herself, enforced the early les- " Vous parlez Francais ?" he cried.
sons and, as the elasticity of a child's mind
; "Oui, monsieur!" said Carrie, blushing as
gradually awakened to new impressions, she she spoke.
became cheerful, happy once more.
Not that The gentleman, or, we may as well give him
she forgot, but she let present duties fill her his name, Mr. Beauvais, began eagerly to ques-
time, and drew her thoughts from unavailing tion her about het love of music, and while he
32 GODET S LADYS BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

appeared amazed at her ignorance of different
instruments, he was delighted by the intelligence
of her answers, and, above all, by her pure
Parisian accent and correct use of the language.
Questions, delicately put, elicited from the
little girl a simple but touching account of her
mother's death and her dear friend and instruc-
tress Miss Delattre. Atthispoint of the conver-
sation, finding he had a countrywoman in the
building, the musician, discarding all ceremony,
took the hand of his little and started to
friend
pay his respects to Miss Delattre. The rooms
being directly opposite to each other, separated
only by an entry. Miss Delattre bad heard
much of the conversation, and rose to
guest as he came into the room.
He introduced himself Mons. Beauvais,
! first
violinist of the theatre orchestra, and her
countryman.
The three neighbors were soon fast friends.
Many a meal Carrie's active little fingers pre-
pared for Mr. Beauvais, amply repaid by the
uninterrupted flow of music from his violin or
piano, and through the open doors the sounds
trials she found she could sing and play occa-
air, and
sionally a note without interrupting the
with this simple, one note accompaniment, she
poured forth her pure clear Toice fearlessly.
No miser, over a new-found treasure, ever felt
his heart beat with more rapture than this
child felt newly discovered power. Her
at her
pale cheeks flushed crimson, her eyes were
raised, and her whole figure seemed expanded
with rapture, as the clear notes swelled higher
and higher, filling the little room with waves of
melody. At last, excited, trembling with plea-
sure, she bent her head over the piano, and
burst into tears. An exclamation behind her
meet her made her start and spring to her feet.
Mons. Beauvais stood there, and not alone.
With him was a gentleman, whom she had
never seen before, whose large blue eyes rested
full upon her trembling figure and flushed face,
as she stood silent before him.
" Is this one of your pupils, Beauvais?" he
said, putting his fingers under the child's chin,
and gently raising her tearful face.
" No, sare I never heard her sing before."
!

of his practising made little fingers fly speedier "Who taught you?" said the gentleman
in the pretty task of flower making, and the kindly, to Carrie.
little old maid's heart beat with new life and " No one, sir. They were all out, and I tried
energy. a I was very careful not to strike hard,
little.

One morning Mr. Beauvais had gone to re- and I did not wear it out much, I hope !"
hearsal. Miss Delattre was out purchasing the Both gentlemen laughed, and glad not to be
materials to fill a large order for flowers, and scolded for meddling, the child glided past them
Carrie, having put both rooms in perfect order, into her own little room.
was w.mdering listlessly up and down, weary " Beauvais, that child '3 a genius I" said the
with the, to her, novel weariness of nothing to stranger.
do. Her eye rested on the open piano, and, " Eh, sare I never hears her sing before !"
I

crossing the entry, she sat down before it, repeated the musician, who was in truth over-
wishing intensely that she could draw from it whelmed with surprise at Carrie's performance.
the sweet sounds which Mr. Beauvais' fingers The conversation turned upon other topics,
called forth. With a timid hand she touched and having settled the business wliich had
one of the keys, then another, and having run brought him there, the arrangements for a ser-
the scale with light frightened fingers, she began enade to be given to one of his fashionable
slowly and laboriously to pick out note by note friends, Mr. Clarence Latimer went away, and
one of her favorite airs. Finding the task wondered who that child was with such a mag-
rather a hopeless one, she abandoned the effort nificent voice, and then forgot the whole inci-

and began to hum the air. Before the arrival dent.

of the wondrous instruments of music she had
often sung softly as she moved about her work,
but her wonderful reverence for them had
lately kept her musical efforts silent. Now,
alone, and full of earnestness to hear the air
she loved, she gradually allowed her voice to
rise and sometimes touching one of the
swell,
keys, flushing with delight if it accorded with
the tones of her voice. A new idea now struck
her. She could not play the air, but she could
sing it, and some of her notes accorded with
these white and black keys. After several
Not so Mons. Beauvais. The idea that he
had lived for six months within reach of such
a voice, and never heard it, confounded him.
He had liked Carrie, was pleased with her
attentions to himself, and her frankly expressed
delight at his music, but he had never thought
of taking the same place as Miss Delattre
towards their little friend. Now the case
seemed entirely altered, and he at once con-
ceived the design of instructing the child, and
cultivating the musical talent with which she
was evidently endowed.
 CARRIE HARDING. 33
i

Words cannot describe Carrie's ecstasy when "Carrie, can you spare time to alter the
this plan was imparted to lier. Her eyes filled arrangement of these llowers ?" said Mrs. Man-
with tears, and throwing herself on her friend's ners, coming into the show room with an ex-
bosom, she fairly sobbed out her thanks. quisite crape hat in her hand. " Mrs. Latimer
From that time regular hours were set apart wishes to have them higher up, and the girls
for music. are so hurried just now."
Six yeare had passed since Mrs. Harding "Certainly ; give it to me. How stiff they
died, when became necessary for Carrie to
it are!" And with quick, skilful fingers, Carrie
leave the quiet, happy seclusion in which she took off the flowers, and began to reshape
them.
had heretofore lived, and go out into the great
city to earn her living. Miss Delattre had "Don't you will tear them to pieces!"
I

taken early in the winter a severe cold, neglect cried Mrs. Manners.
of its symptoms had increased it, rheumatism "Tear them to pieces !" said Carrie, smiling.
came after, and finally terminated in the loss of " Why, I have spent nearly all uiy life making
the use of the right hand. Now was the time for flowers There
! Is not that better ?"
I

Carrie to repay the years of care which the old "Beautiful! There, put them in. Here
lady had lavished upon her, and she cheerfully comes Mrs. Latimer, and why, bless me, she
took np the burden. has got our new neighbor, the rich French lady
Making would not be
flowers she soon found who lives around the corner. If I can secure
sufficient; was very well while there were two
it her custom I 'm a made milliner for, I think, ;

persons to work at it, but, alone, she found her she wears a new bonnet every time she goes
labors would not be sufficient to support them. out."
She applied at the millinery establishment Mrs. Latimer, a tall, elderly lady, entered the
for which her old friend had worked for so many salesroom, accompanied by another lady about
years, and they readily agreed to take her as her own age, dressed with exquisite taste, and
a hand. with a mild, benevolent face once seen never
A perfect French scholar and a fine musician, to be forgotten.
it may seem strange that she did not think of After duly admiring the change in her new
these accomplishments as a means of support hat, wrought by Carrie's skilful fingers, Mrs.
but Carrie never thought of this. For every Latimer introduced Madame de Villa-, and,
difficulty that she conquered in music, her in- pleading an engagement, hurried away, leaving
structor supplied another to be surmounted, and her friend to make Jier own selections. A dif-

the young girl really felt that her progress was ficulty now arose, which Carrie, occupied in
slow, and would have urged her own incompe- another part of the room, did not at first per-
tency, had any one suggested to her to teach ceive. Mrs. Manners could speak nothing but
the art in which she was so promising a pupil English ; Madame de Villa, nothing but French.
and, as for French, so natural was it now for Weary at last with the fruitless effort to un-
her to use it, that she did not think of it as an der.";tand her customer, Mrs. Manners turned
accomplishment. She would as soon have away, saying :

thought of priding herself upon speaking Eng-
lish correctly.
Mrs. Manners, the principal of the milliner's
store in which Carrie now worked, placed her
as saleswoman in the show room. Her childish
leanness of contour had vanished with her
growth, the thin face was now a beautiful oval,
the pale complexion, still white and smooth,
was tinged with a healthful color, and a profu-
sion of rich brown hair shaded the broad white
" Dear me! how provoking to lose such a rich
customer, just because I can't speak French I"
Carrie caught the words, and coming to Ma-
dame de Villa, requested her order in French.
Mrs. Manners was surprised, but gratified ; and
through the medium of this willing interpreter,
the orders were clearly delivered.
" Call at my house this afternoon, and I will
give you the flowers for the bonnet," said M.v
dame de Villa to Carrie, as she left.

forehead. Tall, graceful, and beautiful, with
a natural refinement, improved by her inter-
cours#with her old French friend, Carrie was
a most valuable acquisition in the show room,
especially as a native modesty, fostered by her
secluded life, made her unobtrusive and re-
spectful. Her evenings were devoted to music
and the society of her friend.
"Will you go?" said Mrs. Manners. "I
know it is not exactly your place, but the er-
rand-girl would never understand her."
" Certainly, I will go," said Carrie.
When she made the promised call, JIadarr.e
de Villa sent for her to come up into her dress-
ing-room. The young girl's eyes would rove
with a natural curiosity over furniture, dresses,
34 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

and bijouterie, such as she had never seen be- maid's former state, but one and another was
fore ; but she listened attentively to the direc- rejected. One was too dark, another faded,
tions for the disposal of the flowers. and all were too small, while the difference
Hearing her own tongue from such a musical between the stature of the tall graceful girl,
voice, and with such a pure accent from a beau- and her little old friend, made any alteration a
tiful girl, who, simply attired, acted as sales- hopeless task. With a sigh, the roll was placed
woman in a store, naturally roused Madame again iu the drawer.
de Villa's curiosity and, courteously request-
;
" Oh," said Carrie, suddenly, " I know what
ing Carrie to be seated, she began to question will do. remember a roll of white muslin
I

her, and iu a short time drew from her her father sent to mother before I was born, which
simple history. she always persisted was too rich for her to
" Why do you not teach French ?" she asked. wear. It is in her trunk ; I will giet it. I

" You say you have studied the grammar tho- have often seen it," and Carrie turned eagerly
roughly your accent is pure and your idioms
;
to the trunk.
correct." The muslin proved to be a rich India muslin
" I should not know where to apply for scho- heavily wrought, yellow, but otherwise in per-
lars," said Carrie. " I have no friends except- fect order. Soap, water, and a hot sun soon
ing Mons. Beauvais and Miss Delattre, and bleached it white, and Carrie made it up.
they have lived very secluded." The anxiously expected evening came, and,
" Well, well, we will see I" said Madame de when dressed, Carrie looked like some bright
Villa, and Carrie, understanding that the inter- spirit in the little room. For the first time in
view was over, took her leave. her life she wore a dress which, fitting her form
The next morning she was standing in the perfectly, left her arms and shoulders unco-
show-room alone, when Mrs. Latimer came in. vered. It fell, this snowy drapery, iu full soft
"Miss Harding," she said, coming abruptly folds round her, and was untrimmed, save by
to the point, "I have been talking to Madame a lace hunted up from Miss Delattre's stock,
de Villa about you, and she says you are com- which partially shaded the round white arms.
petent to teach French. I have been looking Wreathed in with her dark chestnut curls, were
out for a French teacher for my daughter, and clusters of jessamine, made by her own skilful
having ascertained from Mrs. Manners that the fingers, and her beautiful face needed no orna-
story you told yesterday was true there, don't ment of jewels to set it oflT. The carriage sent
blush, we never doubted it Ihave come to by Mrs. Latimer came early, and, with many
engage your services. As I know that one good wishes from her two friends, Carrie started
scliolar alone will not support you, I propose for the party.
to get more. Come to my house on Wednesday The dressing room, filled with gay laughing
evening next ; I am going to have a party, and girls,gave her an uneasy sensation she felt so ;

I will introduce you to some of my friends who lost and lonely in this crowd of strangers, but,
have children, and we will try to make you a throwing .aside her shawl, and smoothing her
class. There, not a word. are a good Yon hair with her hands, she descended the broad
gill, or Mrs. Manners would never speak of staircase to find her hostess.
you as she does. Be sure you come on Wed- Many admiring eyes followed her graceful
nesday. Stay ! I will send for you. What is figure threaded her way among the
as she
your address ?" crowd, but she did not know it. Mrs. Latimer
Carrie gave it, and Mrs. Latimer left her. received her kindly, herself astonished at the
Invited to a party at one of the largest houses wondrous beauty of the young girl in her be-
in the city, and by one of its most elegant coming dress, and Madame de Villa took her
was half afraid she
leaders of fashion, Carrie young protegee under her own especial charge.
was dreaming. The blaze of light, rich dresses, and splendid
As soon as she reached home, she spoke of apartment were like dream laud to the young
her new opening in life to Miss Delattre, or girl, but native ease took the pl.ice of custom,
Aunt Elise, as she always called her. and no awkward stare or gesture marked the no
"Yon must go, my dear! you must go!" vice. She was still chatting with Madame de
said the oldl.ady, decidedly. " Open the lower Villa, not hearing the inquiries made to Mrs.
drawer in that bureau, and bring me a large Latimer about the beautiful French girl, when
roll you will find there." the hostess came up with a face full of vexation.
Carrie obeyed. When opened, the roll con- " Is it not too provoking ?" she said "Mr. B. ;

tained many rich dresses, relics of the little old has brought his violin to play for us, and all
 "

CAKKIE HARDING. 35

his music is ia duets. His friend Mr. L., who B.'s eyes were full of tears, so powerfully had
was to play second violin, has sent a regret, this affected him ; and, still perfectly ignorant

and 30 we lose our music." that she had done anything worthy of especial
Carrie listened, and then said timidly :
" If notice, the young girl glided back to her seat
it is not very difficult, I cm play it lor you. beside Madame de Villa.
" Play the violin !
" cried the astonished lady. Gentlemen were introduced to her, but after
"lean play a little !" a few moments' chat, shrugged their shoulders,
The music was brought to her, and one glance voted her a mere musical machine, and left her.
showed it to be within her power. Au instru- Why She had never been to the opera, knew
?

ment lay upon the piano, and Carrie, taking it none and had no small talk.
of the celebrities,

up, pronounced herself ready to assist Mr. B.
The celebrated musician one half con-
temptuous glance proposed assistant,
at his
but took bis violin, and, nodding to her, began
to play. The contemptuous expression changed
to one of quiet satisfaction as they proceeded.
Perfect time, accuracy and expressioucbaracter-
iied Carrie's performance. Unconscious that
she was doing anything extraordinary, only
anxious to give her hostess the pleasure of
hearing the greatviolinist, she played her part,
as should be played, secondary to her com-
it
panion. As the last note died on the air, mur-
murs of applause greeted them, but Carrie
never dreamed that any of these were intended
for her.
Mr. B., turning to her, complimented her
highly upon her performance, and, taking an-
other piece from bis pile, asked her if she could
One only exception there was to this rule.
cast One gentleman, Mrs. Latimer's only son, kept
his place beside her. He knew her history, and
instead of talking on the chit-chat of society, he
began to discuss books and music. Here Carrie
was in her element. Mr. Beauv.ais had a good
library of French literature, and knowing as he
did many men of letters, he had from time to
time borrowed standard works in her own lan-
guage for the young girl's perusal, and also to
improve his owninowledge of English.
Modest and quiet, Carrie still chatted with
ease and grace, and Clarence was amazed at
the information her remarks displayed.
" Do you remember," he said, suddenly,
"the first time you ever tried to play ?"
"Y'es, indeed," said Carrie, smiling; " I was
caught in the act by Mr. Beauvais and another
gentleiran. I do not remember his face, for I

pl.iy the accompaniment. It was for piano and was too much frightened to look up but he ;

violin, and Carrie gave a ready assent. She had a gentle touch and a sweet voice."
was even more at home here than with the " Thank you," said Clarence, laughing. " I
violin, and the performance went oil' with great prophesied then that you had genius, and my
success. predictions are fulfilled."
'You sing?" said Mr. B., as she finished. " Y'ou ! was it you?"
He seemed to wish to engross the young girl "I, myself," was the gay answer. "TeU
entirely. me, now, how you enjoy this evening ?"
"Yes." "Oh, so much," said Carrie, "particularly
"Sing 1" he said, abruptly, and Carrie com- the piano" and she glanced at the grand piajio
plied. on which her fingers had lingered with such a
There was no wish for display in all this. loving touch. "It don't jingle like ours, and
Remembering the intense deligUt she herself the pedal does not creak."
felt hoped that, in a less
in hearing music, she "Rather important advantages," said Clar-
degree, she was imparting the same pleasure. ence. " So you enjoy the piano ?"
Her instrumental perfonuances had been purely "Indeed I do. And I like to talk to you,
mechanical, but now the genius in her own too," she added, frankly. "Y'ou know so
soul shone forth. .4.S she sang, the murmurs much. How I should like to travel as you
of conversation through the room were hushed, have done, and see all you have seen."
and all crowded to the piano. Clear, pure, Clarence had too much tact to embarrass her
and true came the notes, and full of power by noticing the compliment, but he fully ap-
and richness rose the fresh young voice. Now, preciated it.

as the song required, dying away in trills, grow- All pleasant things must have an end, and
ing fainter and fainter, then coming back in at midnight, according to promise, Carrie went
prolonged full notes, filling the whole room home. She bade Mrs. Latimer and Madame
with music. As she finished, a deep hush was de Villa good-night, and gliiied away, leaving
over all that crowded room, for it seemed more the gayety in full bloom. Clarence accompanied
than Unman, that glorious young voice. Mr. her ; and asking permission to call, left her at
36 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

her own door. Think how odd it seemed for then she said: "Oh, you are too kind, too
such a girl as that, to live in a little room in good, but I cannot !"
the third story of a small house in a narrow- " Cannot why ?"
!

court. " I cannot leave Aunt Elise. She depends

The next day Carrie took a grateful leave of upon my labors for her daily bread. Could I
her kind friend, Mrs. Manners, and entered upon leave her to starve ?"
her duties as a teacher. The eclut of her intro- " My dear child, do not accuse me of such au
duction, and the announcement of the fact that inhuman idea ! I will leave an ample income
Mrs. Latimer intended to place her daughter forMiss Del.ittre."
under her instruction for both French and " But she is a cripple ; she cannot live alone."
music, gave her a start in this line, and in a "I will pay some one to attend to her; so
few weeks her time was entirely filled up at make your mind easy about that."
good prices. " P.ay some one Oh, Madame de Villa, can
!

She was glad change her former life for

to hired h.ands be to her what mine are ? Can
the present one, as it gave her more time to be paid services take the place of those dictated
at home, and her Aunt Elise seemed every day by love alone ? She loves me, and the separa-
to need her care more. The old lady, in her tion would kill her. You are kind, and I am
littleroom, watched for the bright young face, very, very grateful ; but I cannot leave Aunt
and hungered for the cheerful voice that made Elise 1"
the music of her home. No invitation to dine " But, my child, I will m.-ike you rich, and
or sup in the houses where he taught, could you can send her superb presents. She is no
keep Carrie away at the hours when she knew
relation to you has no real claim upon you."
Miss Delattre was waiting for her to prepare " No real claim upon me She has been !

her simple meals, and no daughter's hand could more than a mother to me since my own died.
have more gently and kindly fed the cripple. Parent, teacher, friend. All I am I owe to her.
Her first party was the only indulgence of this Could you expect me to be a grateful, dutiful
kind she permitted herself to take. Many in- child to you, if I repaid her by deserting her in
vitations were extended but she remembered
;
her lonely, crippled old age ?"
her old friend's words when she returned " You are right Go back to her. I will
!

"Oh, I am so glad to see you I have been !

write to you often and remember if her death
;

so lonely all the evening. Mr. Beauvais was releases you, you are to be mine, my child."
at the theatre, and it was very dull." A long loving conversation followed, and then
And Carrie, thinking only of the immense Carrie returned home.
debt of gratitude she owed her old friend, re- Miss Delattre was seated in her arm-chair
solved never to call forth the same complaint near the window when Carrie entered, and a
of loneliness again. gush of emotion flooded the young girl's eyes
Madame de Villa was the young girl's con- as she pictured her waiting thus for one who
stant friend. were
Books, music, paintings, all would never come. Crossing the room softly,
placed within her reach, and the French lady she knelt down beside her old friend, and
delighted in her young pro(^;7^e. One morning, looked up lovingly into her face.
calling to get a book to read in the evenings " Carrie, Carrie," softly sighed Miss Delattre,
to Miss Delattre, Carrie was surprised to find stroking back the rich dark hair from the fair
Madame de Villa making preparations for a forehead. " I think you have been gone a
journey. great while."
"Ah, Carrie!" she said, looking up as the " I was detained at Madame de Villa's."
young girl entered. " I was going to send for "Did you get a new book?"
you. Sit down, and listen tome. I am going " No, auntie, I forgot it. Madame de Villa is
to France, going to live there, and I want you going home to France. She starts for New York
to go with me.
Not," she continued, mistak- this afternoon."
ing the young girl's expression of dismay, "Going home ! France, dear France !" and the
"not as a companion or a subordinate, but as invalid's fingers fluttered. " Home to France !"
my child, my .adopted daughter, to whom at my and then a deep silence fell on the two. Carrie,
death I shall will all my property. I love you, leaning her head agfiinst the arm-ch.air, thought
Carrie I " .and she drew her into a close embrace. over her long conversation with Madame de
" I am widowed and childless ;
you shall be Villa, and the invalid went in fancy across the
my child." water to " dear France."
For a few moments surprise kept Carrie silent The next afternoon, when Miss Julia Latimer
 CABRIE HARDIXG. 37

was takiug her singiug lesson, her brother and melody, she burst suddenly into a song of
Clarence strolled into the parlor. It was the praise. There were no words, yet Clarence
first time Carrie had seen hiiu since the event- knew she was recalling the day when she first
ful party, and she returned his graceful bow, tested her own musical powers. The rich gltv-
with smiling pleasure. rious voice filled the air around him, and the
"Do go away, Claire, while I take my les- joyousness of the song made him almost long
son," said his sister. to join his voice with hers, when she was re-
" I shall not disturb you," was the reply, and called from her dreams, he from his ecstasy,
he sat down near the wimlow. by-
The lesson was over, but dophie, Carrie's other " I am ready for my lesson. Miss Harding 1"
scholar, was out, though expected home every Little Sophie, Mrs. Latimer's youngest child,
minute. Julie, glad to run away, left the room, had, unperceived by Carrie or Clarence,
all
and Clarence joined Carrie at the piano. No come taken off shawl and bonnet, and now
in,
idea of impropriety disturbed the young girl. stood ready for her lesson.
She was waiting for a pupil. Mr. Latimer surely Thoughtfully, his heart full of that glorious
had a right to remain in his own parlor, and music, Clarence left them, feeling that his
the time would be less tedious in company sister's childish strumming would be unendu-
than aloue. rable after Carrie's performance.
" Do you still retain your love for this piano?" same evening, while Carrie sat at her
Q'hat
said Clarence. aunt's feet reading aloud, therecame a tap at
" As the first really fine instrument I ever the door. She opened it, to find Mr. Latimer
touched, 1 certainly love it, "was Carrie's re- standing there.
ply. " M.iy I hope I am not intruding?" he said ;

" never heard you play except to accom-

I "you gave me permission to call, on the even-
pany a duet or the voice will you favor me ; ing when I escorted you home from my mother's.
now ?" I have been out of town, or I should have
" Certainly ! I must wail till Sophie comes. availed myself of it sooner.
Give me a subject 1" " Walk in," said Carrie. " Aunt Elise, this
"A subject?" is Mr. Latimer, the gentleman I spoke to you
" I had rather improvise than play from about."
memory. Mens. Beauvais always gave me a Clarence spoke to the old lady in her own
subject at every lesson." tongue, and accepted Carrie's offered seat. His
" She does not seem aware that there is any call was a long one. Having lately visited
genius required for that," thought Clarence, France he could give Miss Delattre intelligence
amused at her simple business-like tone aloud ; of scenes and people, from whom she never ex-
he said : " Take memory. Miss Harding." pected to hear again, yet although attentive to
"Memory, whose? mine?" her, his eye took in the neat arrangement of
"Yes." the simple furniture and the graceful figure
For an instant she was silent, then she said sewing near the table.
in a low tone: "My first recollection is my "You will come again, come often," said
mother's lament over my fatlier's death at sea.i Miss Delattre as he rose to go.
Low, quivering notes softly glided into a " Thank you for permission to do so," he said.
murmuriug like rippling water, growing deeper There were few tile a tile's after this for Carrie
and stronger as, forgetting her listener, the and her old friend. Some time in the evening,
yonng girl'simagination pictured a storm at if only to stay long enough to bring some
sea. Gradually the deep sonorous chords, and flowers or a book, Clarence came in, often re-
rapid sweeping, like wind, among the keys, maining for hours, reading aloud while Carrie
died away, and joining her voice, a wailing sewed, or chatting with Miss Delattre of the
dirge for the lost sailor filled the room ; then
never wearying sulject France. Coming home
more a hymn for her
slowly, solemnly rose from long walks and patience tasking lessons,
mother. Gliding softly from sad strains, little Carrie learned to listen for the well-known
scraps of the negro airs she Iiad first learned knock, and cheerful voice at the door, welcom-
from the hand organs followed, and then her ing both with frank pleasure.
and her eyes shone as she recalled
face flashed Coming home one day at dinner time, she waS
Mods. Beauvais' first meeting with her. Look- surprised at having no answer to her cheery
ing earnestly forward, her fingers gradually good-day, from her aunt, and looking up s.aw
drawing out sounds of unparalleled sweetness that the old lady's head was thrown back, her
VOL. LXTII.
38 godey's lady's book and magazine.

mouth partly open, her eyes fixed and glassy. in, and the usu.al mixture of costumes belong-
A louil cry of terror brought Mens. Beauvais to ing to such a scene prevailed. Uis own dress
her side, but all help now was useless. Miss was too modest to attriict much notice,
of a friar
Delattre was dead. and be mingled in the crowd.
With weighing bitterly upon
this grief still " Have you seen the fortune-teller ?" said a
her, a new trial Mrs. Latimer visited
came. pretty blonde, who accepted his arm for a pro-
her, paid her bill for her daughter's tuition, menade. " All the gentlemen are crazy about
withdrew them from Carrie's care, and then her, and she will not unmask. Ah there !

heap'd upon the young girl's head the bitterest she is I"
reproaches for her "shameless conduct with Clarence looked in the direction indicated.
regard to Clarence." A tall, graceful girl was leaning against a marble
" My conduct My brain is confused with
I pedestal, toying with some flowers upon it,
sorrow and surprise What have I done ?"
I and conversing with two gentlemen. She was
" It is too late to feign ignorance, Miss Hard- dressed in black velvet, richly embroidered in
ing," said Mrs. Latimer, severely. "I little gold. The dress, open in front, left exposed a vest
thought my kindness to you would meet with of white satin buttoned with large pearl buttons,
such base ingratitude. Have not you and your and rich l.ice closed with a, diamond pin at the
aunt tried to inveigle my sou, one of the first threat. Upon her he.ad was a long, rich, black
young men in the city, into marrying you lace veil, and her mask covered all her face
music te.acher ?" save her mouth, which could be seen through
Carrie stood erect, with flashing eye and its lace edge, while two large d.ark eyes shone

flushed cheek. " You mistake, madam. That
your son has sought me, loves me, is true.
That I return his love is also true for, unac-
customed to let worldly calculations influence
my heart, I gave him my love freely, as he
offered his. He h.as asked me to be his bride ;
but" .and she drew a ring from her finger,
and pl.aced it in Mrs. Latimer's hand "you
will return this, telling him why
and she drew herself up proudly " I enter
no family where I .am unwelcome." And she
bent her head with queenly gr.ace, and left the
through the holes in the mask.
"Ah," said one of the gentlemen, looking
; up, "therfe comes Clarence Latimer. Now,
Lady Sorceress, for a new trait of skill."
The lady did not answer, her graceful head
being bent low over the flowers.
" Come, and have your fortune told,"
Claire,
said both gentlemen, in gay tones.
I send it. I" Clarence bowed to the stately lady, who
turned her eyes full upon his face.
"You have known trouble," she said, in a
deep voice " the lines on your face tell that."
;

room, crossing the entry to remain with Mons.
Beauvais till Mrs. Latimer saw fit to depart,
which she did soon, glad to have got through
her errand without the expected
hysterics.
Furious with generous indignation, Clarence
flew to Carrie that evening, .after hearing his
mother's story. She was gone. Mons. Beau-
vais could not or would not give any clue to
"Trouble !" said one of the gentlemen, g.iyly,
" I think your skill is failing you. Why, Clar-
ence Latimer is the envy of half his friends."
fit of tears and " Yet he has known trouble through poverty
and obscurity."
" It is clear you have mistaken the person,"
continued tlie young man, sou of the hostess
for the evening.
"No, I do not mist.akel" was the .answer.

her whereabouts aud, after weeks spent in

;
" was not his own poverty, but th.at of one
It

fruitless search, Clarence finally relinquished "Hush! hush!" said Clarence, in a low
the pursuit in despair. tone " do not n.ame her here."
;

"Then yon have not forgotten her?" said

Three years passed away. Clarence wai on the l.ady, in the same low voice. The rest of
a visit to New York when
an invitation was the group left the two together.
sent to him to join a large fancy party; the " Forgotten Never!" 1

note concluded thus :

" I can give you tidings of lier."
" Amongst our other guests, my mother has "You can?" said the young man, e.agerlr.
"Where is she? Is she near, or far away?
invited a new belle, a French lady, heiress to
Alas ! I fear poor and friendless now !"
an immense fortune, who is on a visit to Ame-
" Not so. Through the death and liberal
rica with: her guardian. Be sure to come.
will of one who adopted her after her aged
"Hbnrt."
friend's death, she is now in the highest society

The rooms were crowded when Clarence came in Paris, and rich enough to" and her voice
 THE MARVELS AND MYSTERIES OF A SEED. 39

took a tone of bitter irony " satisfy even your up, perhaps, by a bird for her little ones the
mother." smallest seed of a poppy or a bluebell, or even
"Lost! lost!" said Clarence, in a low, sad one of the seeds that float about iu the .lir in-
tone. " Ilad she been iu trouble, seas could visible to our eyes There is a world of mar-
I

not have divided us but now she might justly

; vels and brilliant beauties hidden in each of
despise me if I sought her." these tiny seeds. Consider their immense
" Not so I know her well
! she cannot for- : number, the perfect separation of the different
get, cannot cease to love one who won her kinds, their power of life and resurrection, and
he.irt when her friends were few, and who their wonderful fruitfulness I

would have married her despite her station. Consider, first, their number. About a hun-
But she is proud she cannot seek one whose
; dred and fifty years ago, the celebrated Liunseus,
family cast her off." " the father of Botany," reckoned about 8,000
" Gently," said Clarence, " gently My mo- I different kinds of plants ; and he then thought
ther is dead." that the whole number existing- could not
" Are you confessing to this reverend friar ?" much exceed 10,000. But, a hundred years
said a gay voice belaud the two. after him, M. de Caudolle, of Geneva, described
"Not 3'et," said the sorceress, taking Clar- 40,000 kinds of plants and at a later period
;

ence's arm. " Will you promenade with me, he counted 60,000, then 80,000, and he sup-
Mr. Latimer?" She gently led him to the posed it possible that the number might even
conservatory. Then, when they were alone, amount to 100,000.
Clarence said in an agitated voice : Well, let U3 ask, have these 100,000 kinds of
"Tell me, who are you ?" plants ever failed to bear the right seed ? Have
" Mademoiselle de Villa, the adopted child they ever deceived us ? Has a seed of wheat
and heiress of your mother's old friend, but" ever yielded barley, or a seed of a poppy grown
and she took off her mask "better known to up into a sunflower? Has a sycamore-tree
you as Carrie Harding." ever sprung from an acorn, or a beech-tree
So Clarence, of all the suitors to the French from a chestnut ? A little bird may carry
heiress was the successful one, though all the away the small seed of a sycamore in its beak
disappointed ones declared they could not make to feed its nestlings, and, on the way, may
it out " why he was iutroducod at Mrs. Mason's drop iton the ground. The tiny seed may
fancy ball just one week before he was mar- spring up and grow where it fell, unnoticed,
tied." and si.Kty years after it may become a m.ignifi-
cent tree, under the shade of which the flocks
of the valleys and their shepherds m.ay rest.
Consider next the wonderful power of life
THE MARVELS AND MYSTERIJS OF A
and resurrection bestowed on the seeds of
SEED. ,^v
plants, so that they may be preserved from
Have you ever considered low wonderful a year to year, and even from century to century.
thing the seed of a plant is ? It is the miracle Let a child put a few seeds in a drawer, and
of miracles. God said, " Let there bo '
plants shut them up, and sixty years afterward, when
yielding seed,' " and it is further added, each his hair is white and his step tottering, let him
one "after his kind." take one of these seeds and sow it in the ground,
The great naturalist, Cuvier, thought that and, soon after, he will see it spring up into
the germs of all past, present, .md future gene- new life, and become a young, fresh, and beau-
rations of seeds were contained one within the tiful plant.
other, as if packed in a succession of bo.xes. M. Jouannet relates that in the year 1835 sev-
Other learned men have explained this mys- eral old Celtictombs were discovered near Ber-
tery in a different way. But what signify all gorac. Under the head of each of the dead
their explanations ? Let them expl.iin it as bodies there was found a small square stone or
they will, the wonder remains the same, and brick, with a hole in it, containing a few seeds,
we must still look upon the reproduction of which had been placed there beside the dead
the seed as a continual miracle. by the heathen friends who had buried them,
Is there upon earth a machine, is there a perh.aps 1,500 or 1,700 years before. These
palace, is there even a city, which contains so seeds were carefully sowed by those who found
much that is wonderful as is inclosed in a'
them and what, think you, was seen to spring
single seed one grain of corn, one little brown up from this dust of the dead ? beautiful snn-
apple-seed, one small seed of a tree picked flowers, bine corn-flowers, and clover, bearing
40 godey's lady's book and magazine.

blossoms as bright and sweet as those woven

THE CHILD'S DREAM.
into wreaths by merry children playing in the
fields.

Some years ago a vase, hermetically sealed, "Mamma, I 've had a sweet, sweet dream :

was found in a mummy-pit in Egypt, by Wil- thought the spring was come,
I

And, standing by a cool bright stream,

kinson, who sent it to the British Museum.
I heard the brown bees hum,
The librarian there having unfortunately bro-
ken it, discovered in it a few grains of wheat "The countless sands beneath my feet
Seemed drops of yellow gold,
and one or two peas, old, wriukled, and as
And the wind that toss'd my hair was sweet
hard as stone. The peas were planted carefully With odors manifold.
under glass on the 4th of June, 1844, and, at the
"And mamma, you cannot think
oh,
end of thirty days, these old seeds were seen to
How
gay the blossoms grew !

spring up into new life. They had been buried A host upon the river's brink
probably about 3,000 years ago (perhaps in the Were clad in white and blue.
time of Moses), and had" slept all that long "While others stretched across the wood,
time, apparently dead, yet still living, in the And up the hillside wound,
dust of the tomb. As if a bunch of rainbows had
Is not the springing of the seed an emblem Been flung upon the ground.

of the resurrection of the dead ? Accordingly it " And aa I watched in ecstacy

is mentioned by the Apostle Paul, in 1 Cor. xv., Their bright heads toss and flare,

where, from the springing of the seed, he ex- A stream of sweetest melody

plains the doctrine of the resurrection unto

Came surging through the air.

life. "And oh, mamma, it soared and rang.

And seemed the sky to fill

An Eden seraph must have sang

Above that flowery liill.

" And while I knelt with strange sweet awe

THE RAIN. I ne'er bad felt before,

3T EAHNEBT BEALLE. These words came mingling with the song,

And echoed down the shore:
Merbilt, mournfally, pattering still,
Falling like dew on the flowers, " Sweet child no strife, nor fear, nor
' ! care.
Singiug, and sighing, and moaning at will, Hath aught to do with thee
Fatleth the rain all the bonrs ;
Thou art too pure to see or share
Dancing so merrily over the eaves. The false world's falsity !

Falling liko masic's refrain,

" * ere the sun
And, bright-haired darling !

Hiding its gems in the heart of the leaves,

Another round shall take,
JUerrily falleth the rain.
Thou 'It stand where sorrows never come.
Falling and falling cheerily still. Where pure hearts never break !'
It kisses the lilies' white breast **
And then the music, soft and low,
Over the meadows it wanders at will,
Died out along the stream ;
Lulling the blue-bells to rest.
The landscape faint and fainter grew,
Merrily, cheerily falleth the rain
I woke and 'twas a dream !

Over the country and town,

Like (he soft murmar of music's refrain. " But deep within my heart I know
The fairy-like rain, cometh down. The angol's words were true ;

And, mother, I would joy to go

The rain, the rain, the beantiful rain, If you were going too.
Sadly and sweetly it falls,

To the souls of the dead, w here the grass gro weth green,
" And you will come ere many years;

In sweet spirit voices it calls; This world is fleeing fast

It makes, with its murmurs of beantifal grief. Ob, mother, why those bitter tears?
!"
The flowers to blow o'er each head, We '11 meet above at last

And by its sweet treasures of rose-bud and leaf

Makes lovely the homes of the dead.
When twilight's clouds of purple hue
The rain, the rain, the beautiful rain, Sailed o'er the far off sky,
The merrily, monrnfally falling,
That child with dreamy eyes of blue,
The echo of footsteps that fall not again,
Lay sweetly down to die.
. Strange voices to earth ever calling ;

The whisper of magic that maketb the buds And first gush of song
ere with morn's
In beauty and frailty to glow. The eastern hills were rife.
The mes^at'o of mercy to man from his God, He stood amid that shining throng
Proclaiming " All peace be below." Beside the stream of life

n
!
 THE NIECE OF JUDGE HUMPHREYS.
BY VIEOISIA F. TOWNSESO.

It was something very nnasual, but that she came into the sitting-room, and saw her
niorutug Mary Humplueys had a headache ; husband drawing on his gloves.
not oue of that kind whicli throbs with its " This dreadful morning This glorious
I

fierce heats through the temples, and fires the morning, you mean, my dear, with the pines
brain, and tortures every nerve with its sharp drooping, heavy with the white lilies of snow
baptismal of pain nothing of that sort had ever they 've gathered overnight and the branches
;

seized on the pretty head of Mary Humphreys, of every tree thick with crystals, that remind
but it ached, nevertheless, with a dull, slow, one of Aaron's rod which blossomed all over."
heavy ache, that made her long-lashed eyelids "0, Samuel, you have your old way of
droop over a pair of eyes like amethyst, and putting things I" said Mrs. Humphreys, with a
quenched somewhat the half blossomed roses smile which retained somewhat of the beauty
that always seemed on the point of opening of her youth.
wide and bright in the cheeks of this girl of "It's the right way, mamma," said Mary,
whom I am to tell yon. with eyes cast, brimful of pride and tenderness,
She was an only daughter, and her father, on her fatlier, who was a man that any wife and
Doctor Samuel Humphreys, was the oldest phy- child might be proud of.

sician in Woodleaf, and belonged to one of the The doctor kissed the two women, then went
oldest families in the fine old town. Indeed, out, and his sleigh cut the first line in the
the Humphreys have always prided themselves white flannel of snow which clothed the prin-
on their fine old stock, and the doctor seemed cipal street of Woodleaf that winter morning.
to combine all the best qualities of his race. The ride to the Run was a long one, but the
He was a man of high cultivation, of warm, doctor's patients there were a family poor
broad, generous nature, of instincts and sympa- and sick. That was enough. Mary Humphreys
thies fine as a woman's a Christian gentle-
; walked up and down the room awhile, looking
man and this Christianity, which was, with
; out of the window, and marvelled at the mir-
the old doctor, a living, abiding principle, acle which had clothed the earth the earth,
permeated his whole life, and softened the which had waited bare and patient for it,
haughtiness and exclusiveness which mani- through the slow December and now, in the;

fested itself in the other members of his family. sunlight, the branches were glorified with clus-
Mary was like Her mother was a
her father. ters of pearl and opal, and the grove of pines
woman gentle, a true home
sweet, lovable, on the left crowned its green plumes with
wife and mother whose rare and delicate
; snow that looked like a surf of lilies.
beauty, faded now, was a type of her character. Mary was in a softened, susceptible mood
Mary inherited her father's force, his warm, that morning, for pain has likewise its mission,
quick, impulsive nature, which her twenty-three and her sweet eyes searched in the snow, and
years had not yet controlled and disciplined. found in its whiteness and purity, wrapping
The holidays were just over, and the doctor's up the blank, sodden, uncomely winter earth,
daughter had taken an active part in the Christ- a type of the Eternal love, and wisdom, and
mas festivals, in the dressing of the Christmas power from whence it came. At last the sed-
tree in the old gray stone church : and the late ative soothed the pain in her head she turned
;

nights and the exciting work had at last proved from the window, and sat down before the
too much for even Mary's elastic youth and grate fire, and watched the bright jets of flame,
nerves. and compared them to glowing leaves bursting
" You want rest, my dear, for a day that is suddenly out of the dark soil of coal beneath.
all; yon '11 be right to-morrow," said the doctor, And as she sat there, in her dreamy, conva-
as he looked at the drooping face of his darling, lescing state of mind and body, the door opened
and handed her a sedative he had just mixed. suddenly, without even a preliminary knock,
" Take that instead of the sleigh-ride I intend- and a young man entered the room. He was
ed to give you to-day." dark, tall, with a fine, not handsome face,
" Oh, father, you 're not going down to the which had some subtle likeness to Mary's, a
Run this dreadful morning !" said Mrs. Hum- good manly face, a rapid, nervons figure and ;

phreys with a deprecatory tone and face, as always the bearing of a gentleman. But his
41
42 godey's lady's book and magazine.

face was white, now, and agitated. No one fairly hurled out the words at her, in a stern,
could doubt tliat he was laboring under deep, defiant way, that for the moment took no
hut well-disciplined emotion there was some- ; thought of their, effect.

thing that bordered on desperation in his eyes, But the shock for the moment was too much.
hut a purpose, deliberately made, one that She leaned her head hack, faint and sick. Her
would be followed to the death, had concen- cousin was at her side in a moment, chafing
trated itself about his lips. her hands.
"George, what is the matter?" stammered " Forgive me, Mary I didn't think you
!

Mary, as she rose up, for she felt at ouce that would take it so."
her cousin brought her evil tidings.
" Wait a moment I am better now. What
He was the son of Judge Humphreys, her have you done, George?" She asked the ques-
father's brother, a gentleman of the old school, tion without faltering, looking him steadily in
with all the pride and obstinacy of the old, the face, and yet the heart of Mary Humphreys
dead Humphreys. With a deep-seated pride stood still as she awaited the answer, for a
in his good name and position, a man with had taken possession of her.
terrible fear
many good qualities, but one whose purposes It came prompt and fearless. " Nothing,
and convictions it was not pleasant to encounter. Mary, that I am ashamed of before God or
The young man sat down, and looked at her man."
a moment without answering a word. There "Thank God!" said Mary Humphreys, and
was something :n his eyes which drew out she burst into tears. Her worst fears were
Mary's heart, and George had always been to relieved now. Nothing would seem very ter-
her in place of the elder brother God took in rible after that.
liis boyhood for the cousin and the brother
;
" You do not fear that, Mary ?"
were both of one age, just four years Mary's " I minute forgive me."
did, George, for a ;

seniors. At last the young man spoke. She saw what was coming next cost him a
"What is the matter, did yon say, Mary? terrible struggle. " But there has harm, dis-
Perhaps I had better leave it for others to grace come to Elizabeth. Oh, Mary, you used
tell as I first intended. You will know soon to love her you were schoolmates together
enough." you will not forsake her now, now that the
She put her little hand on liis arm in the world will!"
pretty sisterly way that was like her. " It is "What has happened to Elizabeth, George ?"
something that concerns you that troubles And again there was bewilderment and terror
you, George and so I had rather hear it from
; in the sweet eyes of Mary Humphreys. In the
your lips." nest hour she had learned the whole truth. It
He looked her again, and she saw the des-
at was fearful enough and yet Mary thanked God
;

perate gleam banish from the eyes and they ; in her heart that the sin was not on the souls of
filmed with something that at another time those she loved. George Humphreys had been
George Humphreys would have turned away for a year betrothed to Elizabeth Seaton. She
his head that she should not see. " It is the was the daughter of a wealthy banker inNew
same sweet, bright, pitiful face that it always York, a schoolmate and friend of Mary's, whom
was, Mary," he said " the face that I always
; the young lawyer had first met on a visit to the
believed in, trusted, and loved, too, better than doctor's.
all faces in the world all but one. It will be Elizabeth Seaton was a girl-woman, fit to be
very hard, very strange to see it grow cold, and the elect and dearest friend of Mary Hum-
darken down on me ; but it will not shake my phreys ; a sweet, generous, noble woman, with
purpose, not for a moment." And now the a face, not handsome, but at times beautiful,
old gle.am drank up the tears in the eyes of always delicate, sweet, intelligent.
George Humphreys, and he ground his teeth The families on both sides had been gratified
together. with the engagement. The Seatous occupied
" George, George, what is the matter ?" some a high social position in the city, and were
vague fear taking hold of the doctor's daughter wealthy and honorable. And Judge Humphreys
and chilling her from head to foot. was a man who valued these things and George ;

He did not delay his answer now. "This is was his only son, of whom any parent might
the matter, Mary My father has this morning
: be proud.
turned nie from his house forever, and forbade The matter was the wedding was
all settled ;

me to look upon his face, because I have dis- to transpire the following May, when lo! Mr.
graced liim, and dishonored his name I" He Seaton, the president of the old saving bank, was
 THE NIECE OF JUDGE HUMPHREYS. 43

fonnd to have embezzled large sums from the father's disgrace liad fallen upon her, as he was
bank, where he had occupied for more than when it stood fair as liis own before all men.
two years a position of the highest trust. The And, like a true man, George Humphreys re-
discovery wasmade suddenly, and fairly stunned joiced that his strong arm and his loving heart
those who had known the man longest and should shelter Elizabeth Seaton in the time of
most intimately. no m.an can sin
But, al.is ! amazement and anguish.
to himself. With what bewilderment and an- And with this purpose deliberately settled,
guish, bitterer than death, the blow fell upon George Humphreys sought his father. It co^t
Gerald Beaton's wife and daughter cannot be him a strong pang to tell the story to the stern,
imagined, much less told. The defaulter ma- proud old man, who listened silently and with
aged to make his escape from the country, just his head hidden in his hands, after the first few
in time to avoid apprehension. brief, sharp questions he had asked at the com-

The first knowledge of these appalling facts mencement. So George Humphreys was not
reached George Humphreys through the letter interrupted until he had disclosed all that
of his betrothed: It fell like a thunderbolt on Elizabeth had written, and added thereto his
the heart of the young man. Elizabeth Seaton, intention of going to her at once, and having
in the midst of her humility and anguish was their union consummated.
too honorable to conceal She dis-
anything. There was a little silence when the ardent
closed the whole truth, holding back nothing voice of the young man ceased: and then old
for her own sake or her father's, and olTering Judge Humphreys lifted his face, a pale, proud
no extenuation for his crime beyond that which face, beneath its crown^f shining gray liairs.
all his friends did, that he had been beguiled "You sh.all not do this thing, George. You
into heavy and ruinous speculations and that ; shall not bring dishonor upon the old name of
he had hoped, as many a man so vainly does, Humphreys by uniting it to the daughter of
to save himself from failure, by employing the a criminal."
bank funds, and restoring what he had taken The young man winced under the words ;

before the embezzlement should be detected. for amoment his eyes blazed it was well that
He did not mean that it should be robbery. no man bnt his father dared speak that name
And then Elizabeth Seaton did just what any in his presence but remembering whom he
;

one, knowing the real essence of this girl's was addressing, he choked down the pain and
character, would be certain she would have, the anger, enough to say in a pleading voice:
done. She absolutely released her betroAe^ " Bnt Elizabeth is not to blame for her father's
from his engagement. She and her mother Bin?"
were about to hide their sorrow and shame in " I grant I am sorry for you both from
it.

some obscure village, where the small fortune my But she must Ijear her shame
heart.
which Mrs. Seaton held in her own right would alone no son of mine must take it on him."
;

support them. So the old Judge was inexorable. Pride was

George Humphreys was a man of the finest the strongest, hardest part of his nature pridef ;

honor moreover, he loved Elizabeth Seaton

; in the old honorable name of his fathers, which
with that love which neither misfortune nor had come down to him through many genera-
disgrace could shake and the idea of forsaking
; tions without stain or blemish, and this pride
her, in this hour of lier great affliction, was hardened and blinded the old m.in to all pity
one that his honor would have spurned as it or compassion for George was his only son,
;

would the suggestion of a crime, had not his
heart, too, wrung with pity and tenderness, for
he longed to bear all the storm which had
fuUen so suddenly into her sweet young life.
George Humphreys held long counsel with
himself after reading the letter of his betrothed,
and the thought that he would marry the daugh-
ter of one whose name was now a by-word and
a disgrace, was more than the old Judge could
bear. Argument and entreaty availed nothing.
The strong will set itself as a rock against
them and at last high words, terrible words,
;

and his resolution was taken. He would at
once seek Elizabeth, and prevail upon her to
become his wife, overruling any obstacles which
her pride and delicacy might interpose at this
juncture to their union. He, at least, would
show to the world that he was as proud and
glad to do her that greatest honor which man can
bestow on woman, now that the shadow of her
passed between the father and the son. George
would not be moved from his purpose of at
once taking to wife Elizabeth Seaton, and it
ended at last in the old Jndge's solemnly lift-
ing up his hand, and declaring that the hour
in which he married the daughter of " that
outlaw from justice," he was no longer a son
of his, and forbidding hiiA even, as the hns-
44: godey's lady's book and magazine.

band of Elizabeth Seaton, to cross bis father's her anguish and desolation, and there is none
threshold again. but me to comfort her?"
So George Humphreys bowed his head and And after that Mary could not say " wait."
went out frombis father's presence, with a face She followed her cousin
to the door, and they
white as the dead, and a step that faltered parted here with a mute caress which said
as a little child's ; bat bis purpose was not what their lips could not.
shaken. When Doctor Humphreys returned from the
An hour be was leaving Woodleaf, re-
later, " Run," that noon, be heard from his daughter
.solving to confide nothing of all which had all tliat she had learned from her cousin. The
transpired to any mortal, when the thought of doctor's sympathies and his wife's were with
liis cousin Mary came over him. The shock their nephew. " Elizabeth is not to blaine for
which the young lawyer had received during her father's
sin, neither does it absolve George

this interview with his father m.ide him feel from his duty," was the old physician's ver-
for the time that all men were against him ;
dict.
but as Mary's sweet face rose before him, "But, father, she did just what I should do,
and the memory of the quick, tender heart be- if Iwere in her place I" exclaimed Mary and ;

neath it, which boyhood intimacy with

all his then, as that terrible " if" flashed across her,
)ier had furnished him such proof, the soul of she sprang to her father's side, gathered her
George Humphreys softened and, half against ; arms about his neck, and was sobbing ou his
his own will, he turned back, and sought his breast.
uncle's dwelling. The old doctor divined her thought. "My
Mary Humphreys had listened to her cousin's precious child !" trying to soothe her, and
story, with a face out of which all the roses feeling a keener sympathy for her suffer-
still

were blanched. Amazement, horror, and pity ing schoolmate. "Truly, we should thank
shook her by turns but the thought of all
; God for every day that we are kept from temp-
Elizabeth Seaton's anguish mastered all the tation, and delivered from evil."
others at last for the girls had been to each
; "Samuel, you always had more influence
other almost what sisters are, and she was with Joseph than anybody," said his wife,
sobbing like a child when her cousin finally wiping away her tears. "Won't you see now
paused. what you can do with him for poor George's
" What are yon going to do, George ?" she sake ?"
stammered out at last. "I shall see him this very evening but I
;

" Mary, how can you ask f There is but one see. Lucy, that it will be no light thing to move
thing which it is right that I should do. It is him. In most matters, I might but here his
;

that which I told my father." pride will be stronger than his afl'ection, and
What could Mary say ? Surely in this case the more so, because George is his idol and ;

the higher law abrogated the lower: "A man
shall iaBe father and mother and cleave to his
wife."
George searched her white, agitated face, and
read there his answer. "Mary, if you were in
iny place, you would do as I am doing," he
said.
" I should do it," answered, solemnly, Mary
the thought of any disgrace falling on him will
steel his heart. But for the sake of the living
and the dead, I will do what I can."
Doctor Humphreys was faithful to his pro-
mise. That evening Mary and her mother
waited until the long hours gathered themselves
into midnight for the doctor's return.
He came at last and when they looked Jn
;

Humphreys, and she thought of Elizabeth.
" God bless you, you and Elizabeth both."
George Humphreys smiled for the first time,
were in his proud eyes, as he
.ind the tears
bent down and kissed the girl. "Ah, Mary, I
was not wrong in trusting you. And I shall
carry that blessing in my
keep it from growing cold when I remember
his face, they knew that his mission had failed.
"We must wait God's will, now," he said, in
a weary way, as he drew off his overcoat.
" Didn't he melt once, father ?" asked Mary,
as she assisted him to put on his dressing-
gown.
heart, and it will "Not once, daughter. I tried every appeal,
I urged every motive which would be likely to

my father. I must go now, or I shall miss the reach his sense of justice, or his love but it
;

train." all availed nothing. He walked the room,

" Wait for the' next one wait and see white as a sheet he told me that to save George
;

father !" pleaded his cousin. this sorrow, he would gladly lay down his life
" Wait, Mary, when Elizabeth sits alone in but when, despite his commands and entreaties,
 THE KIECE OF JUDGE HUMPHREYS. kB

he made LiiDself the son of a criminal flying years as her mother had, when the picture was
from justice, he could be his child uo longer." painted and so Mary, the doctor's daughter,
;

" Oh, father, such pride is sin !" was christened after her dead cousin and living
" I know it ; I told liim so." aunt. And those who loved them best, always
A little silence, and then the doctor said, detected some subtle likeness betwixt the face
looking from his wife to his daughter :
" There, that lay still and cold, under the dark plush of
Lucy, Mary, go to bed at once. You both look the summer grasses, and the face warm and
as though you 'd been ill a week." bright above it.

Mary's pillow was a sleepless one that night.

So Mary became to her uncle and annt almost
She thought of Elizabeth and of her father's
in place of the daughter that to them was not ;

sin, ofher inexor.able uncle, and of the face of

and one day, a little while before her aunt's
her Cousiu George, and these all drove slnm- sudden death, she entered her chamber in her
l>er from her eyes. She longed to be able to privileged fashion, and found her busy in
serve them in some way ; she sometimes half arranging her drawers. The child was a pet
resolved to go and plead with her uncle, with
with every one in the Judge's house .and after ;

whom she was a great favorite, standing to him standing and watching her aunt for awhile,
daughter that was not, and then
in place of the
she suddenly laid her hand on a small box in
remembering how her father had failed to in- a corner of the drawer, and asked with the
finence him, she relinquished the plan hope-
.is
curiosity of childhood: "What is it, Aunt
less. At last the gr.iy day began to break slowly Maryf"
the long darkness of the night, and with it a
Mrs. Humphreys opened the box, and dis-
new purpose suddenly tl.aslied among Mary's
closed the miniature inside. "Do you know
thoughts, as she lay with her face turned to
who it my
dear?" smiled the lady, as the
is,
t'lie east, watching the first faint prophesy of
breathless, wondering child lifted her bewild-
the day, written in gray blurred lines upon
ered eyes to her f.ice.
the distant horizon.
In one of the drawers of the pretty dressing
" It looks like the portrait of Cousin Mary in

cabinet in Mary's chamber, was a box contain- the parlor."

ing a miniature, of whose esistpnce no one in "So it does ; but it 's not she. It is your
the world but herself w.as now aware. The Aunt Mary as she was at your age and looks ;

miniature was set in a case of costly veined more like you now than it does like anybody
agate, and the face was tliat of a little girl, else in the world," glancing from the miniature
which could hardly have passed out of its tenth to her niece. " Nobody, not even yonr uncle,
summer a beautiful child's face! a face that knows of the existence of this picture, and you
once seen could hardly be forgotten. The deep must not reveal the secret, Mary. Some time
sea-blue eyes, the brown hair, touched with I intend to show it to him."

gold, the wide warm roses in the small oval Mary promised, and she was a conscientious
cheeks, and the smile on the lips, red as swamp- child she kept her word faithfully.
;

berries in the low marshes in December, all Several years after this, when Mrs. Humph-
made the sweet, wonderful child beauty of that reys was gradually sinking into that decline
face like a vision that is sometimes seen in which ended her life, she said one day to her
dreams of the night, like some face haunting, niece, who w.as now blossoming into her girl hood
and shining, and baffling an artist at his work " Mary, I want you to take and keep sacredly,
of love. for my sake, that miniature which you have
This face was the face of George Humphreys' seen of me in my e.arly childhood. It is the
mother. was t.iken just after her tenth
It most precious gift which I could olTer you, and
birthday, and just too after her future husband, you must take it in place of the Mary who went
then a young sophomore, happening on a brief home before the rest of us, and whom it some-
visit at her father's house, had met her for the times seems of late that I sh.ill see in a little
first time, for the parents of the young student while. Some time, when I gOK gone, you must
and the little girl were old friends. show it to your uncle; it will comfort him :

Mrs. Humphreys had never discovered this and, Mary, if the time shonM ever come, when
picture to her husband, intending to surprise yon have som^ petition to m.ake of him some
and gladden him with it some day, and then, especial favor which only he can grant, take
after the birth of her daughter Mary, preserv- this,and tell him in the name of his dear wife
ing it for the child whom it singnharly resem- and child not to refuse you." And Mary had
bled. But the little girl never saw as many taken the gift with m.any tears, and locked it
46 godet's lady's book and magazine.

away from all human gaze until the time ap- flinching will had graven itself, her heart failed
pointed. her, aud her uncle felt the shiver which shook
Aud as slie watched the gray dawn with its her as she sat on his knee.
white fingers silently breaking down the black " What is the matter, my child ?"
walls of the darkness, she felt that the time " I came here. Uncle Joseph, to ask you a
bad come for her to present the gift, to make question, but my heart has failed me. I can't
known her petition. She knew that her uncle do it," stammered the girl, looking at him in
had loved bis wife with a love which bordered fear aud bewilderment.
on idolatry, a love whose great tides of tender- He divined iu a moment what she meant
ness had risen high, and overflowed his proud, the face settled away from itssudden tender-
strong, reticent character, as the rivers swell ness into stern rigidness. Every feature aud
in the spring, and overflow the banks aud lineament was like a rock.
eover the fields. "Mary, it will be useless to ask that!" said
" I will go to him this very day, aud God be Judge Humphreys.
with me !" murmured Mary Humphreys and ;
" Then, I will not. Uncle Joseph, but some-
she turned upou her pillow and slept, and the body else will instead. See here, it is she
dawn grew into day. speaks to i/ou." Aud with her swift, shaking
fingers, she drew out the case of dark veined
"Uncle Joseph !" agate, opened it, and there, before Joseph
The voice, sweet, soft, with a little timid Humphreys, was the face of the wife of his
plea in it, stole to the old Judge's ear, as he youth, just as he had seen it the first time iu
sat, just as the day was closing, in his office his The sweet, breathing, living picture
life I

study, with his piles of papers before him ; and of the dead wife aud
child. The blue eyes
lie looked what he was, the straight, inexora- looked out, the lips like berries smiled upon
ble, stately, masterful old man. No matter him, just as they had doue those long, long
what anguish he might suffer, what loneliness, gone years, over which his thoughts went
what desolation of spirit, whatsoever he had swiftly as lightuiug now, and he saw the old
said, that thing he would do to the death ;
avenue of chestnuts, aud the great lawn, and the
you read this in the face, in the forehead, and wide old-fashioned house, and he w.is chasing
in the eyes, and read it anew in the firm con- that face of wondrous beauty through them all,
centrated lips there was no weakness, no flexi-
; and the sweet laughter was tossed back to him
bility there. But the voice, the sweet woman's on the summer wiuds, and then again, a little
voice stole softly to the old Judge sitting among graver, the chfld's face had come to his side
his books and his papers, as another voice and was nestled longingly down close to his
tised to steal in at that very door, and wind knee, and he was stroking it softly, and watch-
itself in silvery flowing sounds through the ten- ing the great wonder and eagerness which
derest and softest places of his heart. filled it, and he was telling stories, strange,
" Come in, Mary," said the Judge and his ;
mArvellous stories of foreign lands, as he told
tones now were like those with which he used them iu his youth, to the child who was one
toanswer that other voice, that he would never, day to be his wife.
never hear again, speaking at the door. She Tlie old man gave a low cry as his eyes first
came with her swift step and her young
in, caught the pioture. He lifted it up, aud gazed
bright face, in which some thought at her with that long, greedy gaze that could never
heart made the roses wider than usual. have enough of it, and the tears fell like raiu
"Uncle Joseph, are you glad to see me?" down his cheeks.
she said aud she put her arms about his neck.
;
" Where did you get it, Mary ?" he said at
His heart, his lonely heart, that would ache last, looking up, with a face that was not the
l-eneath the iron will that held and ruled it, face of Judge Humphreys.
was touched aud comforted. "She gave it to me. Uncle Joseph, a little
" Was I ever otherwise than glad to see you, while before she left us. And she charged you
Mary, my child ?" answered the old Judge, and solemnly, through roe, that if on the time when
took the girl on his knee, and held her there, I should show you that picture, I should bring
as though she had been his very own. to you any petition, j'ou should listen to it, and
And Mary Humphreys smiled, and brushed should grant it in her name, for her sake, and
with her soft, warm hand the white hair from for the dead child's, as though she asked it
her uncle's forehead, and then, as she looked standing by your side."
to find courage iu that face whereon the un- "Mary, Mary, what have you come to ask |
 THK XIECE OF JUDGE IIUMPHKEYS. 47

me ?" There was a great pain and pathos in TRIFLES.

the Judge's voice.
What a trifle 1 We search the dictionary,
is
Tlioii Mar/ Elamphreys stood np, very white,
.and find, "A thing of no moment, no value."
and her words were slow and calm, althongh
We look abroad to the heavens, where stars
lier loud heart seemed almost to shake her
" Numeroos a glitt'ring gems of morning dow.
where she stood. "I came. Uncle Joseph, to Or sparks from populooif citiett in a blaz,**
ask you, in the name of your dead wife, and
your boy's mother, and in the name of your
each in their sphere of nse no trifle there.
Look we to nature 'tis but a drop that wea's
;

love for her, not to cast him out from your

the hardest rock, and opes the way for foaming
heart and home forever, because he cannot do
cataracts and gushing rivers, which sweep re-
the wrong you would have him to the woman
lentlessly o'er lands and homes, bringing de-
whom he loves as you loved his mother. And
vastation. A grain of sand is but a small
I ask you, and not I, but those silent lips speak-

ing through me Take back our boy, Joseph,

'
thing, yet what agony can cause either it

singly, or as the dangerous bar whereon so

take him back with your new daughter, for my
many mariners' hopes are wrecked. The care-
sake, to the heart and home from which you
less gardener passes the down which blows
have driven him with your curses !' "
hither and thither, and only w.ikes to his mis-
The old Judge bowed his he.id on the table.
take when on the following year, he tries in
The night had fallen now, and drowned the
vain to eradicate deeply-rooted weeds, which
room with its darkness. Mary heard the long,
choke his blooming flowers, and thus is it,
heavy sobs which filled the silence, and the
" For there is nothing on the earth so small
large frame of the old man shook with them,
that it may not produce great things." And,
and Mary sat down at his feet, and wept, too.
as in nature, so with humanity, for to us " Each
At last, through the darkness she felt a hand
breath is burdened with a bidding, and every
steal and rest softly upon her head.
" Mary," said a voice which w.as not like the minute has its mission." We cannot say to
the passing event, 'tis but a trifle, like the
voice of Judge Humphreys so tender and stone thrown in the water, causing a circle far
solemn was it, " I have answered the prayer
beyond the beholder's eye. So the word which
which the de.id has spoken through you."
escapes the thoughtless lips may go forth winged
That night Judge Humphreys wrote a letter.
It was very brief, but few letters have ever
with a power to change a life nay, perhaps,
tipped with a poison as deadly ,as the Indian's
contained so much in so few words.
arrow, which the speaker forgets as soon as
Come back to your home, ray
son, and bring said, or only remembered it when too late, in a
your wife Elizabeth, my daughter. You shall time of distress or despair ; and thus the heed..
both be welcome, my children. less ones of the earth daily repeat in society
Your father, Joseph Humphkbts. words and deeds, and calm their consciences
with the thought, " 'Tis but a trifle!" Half
And if you had seen the face of Mary Humph-
our faults arise from thoughtlessness, forget-
reys, as she went home through tho darkness,
ting that
you would have wondered if you had seen the *'
So oar little errors
face of an angel.
Lead tbe soal away
The next week George and Eliz^eth Humph- From the pactis uf virtoo.
reys returned to Woodleaf. Judge Humphreys Oft in sin to stray."

gave the newly-wedded pair a father's welcome, Happy the man who
goeth forth knowing no
and the young bride little suspected that a few trifles, "sowing the good seed beside .ill
days before her husband had, for her sake, waters, " waiting in p.atieuce for its fruits ; real-
been driven from that very home forever ! izing that the acorn m.ay become the pride of
In less than a year, her father sank into his the forest, and that no action is too small to
dishonored grave in a strange land but it was ; influence others for good or evil ; and particu-
years later, until she was a wife, happy and larly remembers, at this joyous season, that
well beloved herself, that Mr. .and Mrs. George " Little deeds of kindness,
Humphreys knew all that Mary, the niece of Little words of love,
Judge Humphreys, had done for them. Make oar earth an Eden,
Like tlie boaven above.**

DrmcrLTiES dissolve before a cheerful spirit One might as well be out of the world as be
like snow-drifts before the sun. loved by nobody in it.
 A SLIGHT SKETCH OF MISS JUMBLE'S CAEEER.
BT HEKSELF.

Fakny said to me the other day : "I wish I a 'little music and flirtation.' A very good
could wiite such sweet, iuterestiug pieces as you thing they made of it, too, as they did not
do for Q's Magazine. I 'd publish, too, aud get happen all of them to be geese. But it so fell

a reputation for being literary, as you have." out that time, and again on the very morning
" Which is not at all desirable." of the day on the evening whereof a meeting
"Dear me! why not ?" And Fanny stared was to be held, Molly Jones, or Tilly Smith, or
at me, her great blue eyes opening wider than somebody else would rush to my house, saying :

ever with wonder. ' Oh, look here, please The Athenians meet I

"Let me tell you some of my woes, and to-night, and there isn't a single original article.
trials, aud annoyances, and then you will see Do now. Miss Jumble, write one of your funny
for yourself that it is not so very fine to be the essays, or a poem, or a little story, or some-
firmament."
literary star of a small village thingnow do. You write so easy it's no-
"Pray do but you will be unable to change
;
thing for you to throw off an article. And
my wish. When I was a litle girl, I used to they are going to meet at my house, and I want
think you the most wonderful person in the a real nice lot of pieces, you know, when they
world, because I read your stories in print. come there.' It was of no avail to tell Tilly or
And I 'd like to be such a marvel to others." Molly that could write nothing good in such
I

" That is the worst part of the whole matter. haste. They believed my brain was a sort of
Hear me. I began to write when a child of mill, and that I had only to grind with a few
nine years, because I couldn't help it, stories, strokes of the pen, and a story or essay would
school compositions, and endless letters to all come forth. If I went to the gathering, witli-
my young cousins. When I was older,and out a peace-offering of this description, some
went to boarding-school, the girls would beg would look cross at me, and others bemoan
me to write their compositions. I did so at and lament my dereliction in a manner that
first, it gave me a sense of
partly because was meant to be flattering, but that proved
superiority, aud partly because I liked the greatly tiresome. So I would hunt up some
wo;k. But I not only soon grew weary of old thing that I was ashamed of, or scratch off
laboring in this way for others, but began to a few pages in such a hurry that nobody but
see that it was wrong, and then refused. They myself could make sense of them, and read
called me a very selfish, disobliging person. aloud to an admiring auditory. No matter
After leaving school, and when the stern re- what it was, it was always praised. My favorite
alities of life looked me in the face, I kept on style then was serio-comic, aud I mention it as
scribbling, and saw myself in print.
at length one of the trials of my '
career, ' that often after
This I took quietly, but was glad to profit by an article some matter-of-fact
had been read,
thanks to a publisher as kind as he was liberal young man in the company would ask his
to the amount of sundry convenient sums of neighbor Do you suppose that 's written in
'

pocket-money, not large, but very welcome. earnest ?'

Aud then to hear the remarks of friends and " Once went out West to visit some relatives
I

acquaintances
'Jane .Tumble was so literary whom I h.ad never seen. They received me
they were afraid of her. It is very queer that
' kindly, but very constrainedly, and for several
some people will persist in calling a woman days were shy and embarrassed. I could not
literary who has only written a few light, veri/ understand their manner till after a week had
liyht articles for the was not
magazines. It brought about some signs of confidence and ;

long, however, before their awe subsided, and Cousin Peggy said to me one morning, with the
then such an ordeal as some of these same first genial expression of face that she had

friends would subject me to, would have been worn: 'Well, I don't see but what you can
funny if it had not been so vexatious. make up a bed jest as well as my girls, and
"They started a ' literary association,' a sort wait on yerself, too. I was dretfully afraid to
of '
mutual admiration'
affair, meeting once a have you come here, for I thought ye 'd be stud
week each others' houses to read original
at '
up^ because ye wrote for the papers.^ Shade of
pieces,' talk over the last remance, and have my grandmother Wasn't that a poser !"
I

43 ,
 A SLIGHT SKETCH OF MISS JUMBLE'S CAREER. 49

Fanny thought these very trifling tronbles acquaintance I made in a quiet way, introduced
when compared with the ictat of being such a me to all her friends in my literary character.
"lovely writer" as myself. One day, after dinner, I sat with my own party
" But I have not told you all yet. One sum- on the piazza, when this person joined ns, and
mer I went to Spa with my brother, to asked me if I would like to be introduced to a
driuk the sulphurous nectar for both our New York lady, who held a high and iullueu-
healths. I had not tlie least idea that any- ti.al position in society. 'A very remarkable
body there knew me for the same 'Jane Jumble' woman,' she proceeded to say; 'very fond of'

that wrote for Q's Magazine, for I put my real literai-y people, and she has literary soirees at
name to my articles. had decreed But fate her house every week. Encourages all the
that I should be famous, andidentity was my young writers, and does a great deal to elevate
soon discovered. The second day after my the tone of society.' Hardly waiting for an
arrival, our private parlor was unceremoniously answer, she dragged me
through the nearest
entered by two tall young gentlemen, evidently window to a sofa just within, where sat an
country youths, who introduced each other, elderly lady of a very serene and elegant aspect,
and then asked was Miss Jumble ?'
if
this richly, but quietly dressed, diamonds on her
" 'Yes, that is my name, gentlemen,' said I, fingers, and diamonds in the superb lace of her
rather bewildered by their abrupt entrance, and coiffure.
thinking them farmers' sons with butter and " Mrs. V.an Derbunt, my dear madam, I
'

cheese to sell. am glad to have found you here. This is the

" Well,' said the foremost, sitting
'
down in lady I spoke of. Miss Jumble, that writes for
a gawky way, we heard you was the one that
'
Q's magazine. Allow me to introduce you to
wrote for Q's Magazine, and we had a curiosity each other.'
to see you, and so we 've called.' "Mrs. Van Derbunt eyed me kindly and
" That was coming to the point with refresh- patronizingly. She must have had the names
ing frankness. They believed that no kind of of all the writing women mixed up in a queer
talk except about ' literatoor' would be agree- heap inside her dear, old, honest head. For
able to me, and at it they went, asking my she said to me: 'Oh! then, you're Fanny
opinion of all the autliors with whose names or Fern, ain't you ?'
works they happened to be acquainted, and "'No, madam, I beg your pardon I never
especially of lady writers. Much amused, I saw that authoress, but am quite familiar with
turned the subject as soon as possible, by in- her writings.
quiring into the peculiarities of the soil in that " Excuse the mistake,' said my lady patron-
'

region,and the properties of their very fragrant ess ;'I meant to ask if you were not the
spa. They stared and soon went away, evi- author of " Say and Seal." Or her sister
dently disappointed because I looked and acted I have heard there are two of them.'

like otherwomen," " Another disclaimer from myself : and then

Fanny thought it mtist be delightful to have Mrs. Van Derbunt, being determined to settle
strange youths hunt you np in a strange place in her mind who I could be, launched forth
by reason of your literary reputation having once more.
gone there in ^vauce. I did not agree with " I remember now all about you. I am
'

her. sure I have seen your name to that long story

" But, Fanny, my next experience was rather iaiheWeekli/ Biui[/et, 'the Red plumed Bandit,*
more startling. In a certain large inland town that is just finished. I have not read it. I get
where I went to rub off the rust of country life, no time to read though I admire talent very
and visit a married schoolmate, it was soon much. But my son and daughter are delighted
made known to me that the general impression with it. You must come to the city and attend
of the re.iding folks there was that I was my literary reunions.'
actually the original Mrs. Partington. That "What do yon think of that, Fanny, to be
was too much for me me, who never concocted pronounced a contributor to the Weelli/ Budyet
a single Partingtonian saying in my life, and a writer of Eens.ation stories ? I withdrew
who secretly prided myself on the growing dig- from my officious new friend after this adven-
nified character of my magazine articles and ; ture. Such scares are rather more than human
homewards in disgust I went. natnre can bear and m.aintain gravity."
" Yet this was nothing to wh.it happened not " There is nothing terrible iu what you have
long after, when I was 3t,ayiug at the famous told me," said Fanny. " And in the end you
watering-place of S where a ladv, whose , found a husband too, notwithstanding the men
VOL. i.xv:i.
50 godey's lady s book and magazine.

are said to be afraid of writiug women. My you any more of my experiences, let me say
associates tell me the gentlemen will all be that they have proved congenial friends, and
:fraid of me if I cultiirate my taste for compo- are as conversant with the best authors as
bition, and that I shall be an old maid. Surely they are skilful in farming and housekeeping.
they were not all afraid of yoa." The only difficulty had been, that they had not
"Wait a moment, and hear that part of my a live author among them, and could not de-
experience. You know that, about the time tach the creator of books from his works."
of ray visit at S that lucky man who
,
" It all turned out nicely, then," said Fanny ;

was to be my husband came to our Tillage to "and you have just as good a husband as if

reside, a mau weary of business cares,and you were not literary. I am still determined
seeking retirement. My fame liad be-
literary to write if I can."
come an old story, and nobody thought of " But Fame, my dear Fanny, has other draw-
telling him that I was a writing woman. What- backs, and many I have not
humiliations that
ever may have led him to become interested in mentioned yet. There are people living on the
nie, it certainly was not my reputation as a same street with me who do not dream that I
writer.
But we were engaged when, ten days write, and to them I am only one of the neigh- '

before the wedding, my cousin lent him a bound bors.' A few days ago, my washerwoman's
voluine of Q's Magazine with some of my effu- daughter came to me, and said Noaw. :
'

sions in it. He handed me the book a few mother's been out West to Uncle Smith's, and
days after, saying, rather gravely I like those:
'
she heard how 't you wrote a story 'twas printed
stories of yours. They are very good. Some in a book, and she wants to borrow it.'
of the love scenes are very touching but if I " Alas thought I, and you have lived near
!

had read them before I made your acquaint- me these six years, and never before knew that
ance, you may be sure that I should never I wrote. And again, your acquaintances are
have had the courage to approach you.' always making you out to be your own heroine,
" It was too late to back out, therefore back and saying such absurd things to you, thai it
out he did not. And what do you suppose he is out of the question to frame a reply. Not
really did ? In a retired farming village, a long ago, a .sketch of mine .ippeared in the
pleasant day's drive from us, live some of his Trumpet, our weekly paper. Most of my neigh-
kinsioHc and many warm friends. So he must bors take it. The object of the sketch was to
e'en freight the invitations to our marriage depict a certain social foible, and turned on the
feast with some odd numbers of Qs Magazine incident of the writer having been visiting a
containing what he, in his newly found pride in distant town.
my so-called talents, thought my best produc- "'That piece sounds just like yon,' said
tions. Mark this instance of masculine vanity. Molly Jones of the olden time, now a quiet
The gifted author of these ' interesting articles' matron. And the other day, at the sewing
'

was to be his wife. He had secured this intel- society, we all said the same. But then we
lectual prize no
matter whether he knew it knew you couldn't have written it, because
or not when he proposed to me. On reading you hav'n'tbeeu away anywhere in more than,
these writings, they would know how to appreci- a year.'
ate his choice. Well and what was the result? " Such a misconstruction is by no means dis-
Not one of those good people came to the wed- tressing but too intensely foolish not to make
;

ding a circumstance that caused in us regret one feel a little wiser than one's neighbors,
.ind wonder. They afterwards confessed tliat which is not good for me."
they were afraid to come. I was so literary,' ' " And you are just as good a wife and house-
that the party would be of the bluest, primmest keeper," said Fanny, "as if you never wrote.
kind, they were sure, and being used to the And I know aU your household look up to
freedom and joyousness of country gather- you."
ings, they couldn't stand it, they knew they
' " Alas ! no. Do you not believe that saying
couldn't.' We went among them on a round of about no man
being a hero to his valetdi-
honeymoon visits, and you would have laughed chambre ? Now, there is my cook, who duly
to see the astonished faces of the women, and buys and reads each number of the Ladien'
to hear the admiring remarks of the men, Parlor Friend. She holds me in no more awe
when they found that I ate, and talked, and for knowing that I write for its pages. In faet,
joked like other folks, knew how to keep house, I think she would respect me more if I was not
eould prescribe for a siok child, and give a re- a writing woman. She doesn't hesitate at all

ceipt for a new tind of cake. And before I tell to dispute my ways of doing thing*. And the
 POETRT. 51

only fact that has made me of late rise in her And call them angelx, on their way
':^timation this: Last summer I insisted To far off realms of endlcRs day,
is
With messages of love and bliss
lliat the green corn should bo boiled before
To brighter, fairer worlds than this;
drying. She insisted just as strongly lliat it Or, liKtening to siugiog bird^
should be scraped from the cob and dried raw Kopeating tender, wooing words
and so she did it. The consequence is that our In bowers hard by, they fall asleep,

winter dish of succotash' is not fit to eat,

*
-And she has been glad to liave left
of my own preparing the previous season.
lieard her say to your mother's maid the other
lay that I did know something after all."
"And, after all," said Fanny, with a laugh,
j iBt give me your receipt for making a maga-
'
zine article, and I will set about concocting one
without delay."
**Well, Fanny, laugh if
your jesting request reminds me of another of
my experiences. Many a one has come to me
and begged it as an especial favor tliat I would
tell her or him even how to go to work to write
an article. What hour day to begin,in the
and what to begin with what to do with the ;
personages of a story, if a story it was to be, or
how from their misty brains a sub-
to evolve
;-^t for an essay. There was something me-
chanical about the process that they conld
not just hit upon, unless I would be so kind as
to give them a hint. Rules for composition
And in tbeir dreams Time's burrirrs leap
And reach that fair, Utopian clime.
some com Where like a t-ong of perfect rhyme
I
To sweetest music weildcd life.
Forever separate from strife,
From agony of hope or fear,
From bursting sigh, from falling tear.
From disappointed plaas, and from
The wo that makes its victims dumb-
Moves onward in the grooves of joy
Without the taint of Time's alloy ;
yon please; but "Where perfect happiuess resides
Where Summer as a qneon abides
In a perpetual reign, and where
All beatific things and rare
I'resent their pleasures to the soul.
As from an overflowing bowl.
So, 'neatb the fervor of July,
Its sultry heats, its torrid sky,
Man languishes with timeaud sense.
And lapses into iudoleuce.
While Nature from her treasure pours
t'pou the world her myriad stores
or fruits and flowers, and strews the road
With gifts that leads to her abode.
The droning bee, amid the hay.
Fears not the reaper in its play ;

are very proper but where there is nothing in

;
The butterfly, amid the flowers.
one's noddle to apply them to, they can be left Heeds not the child that roams the bowers;
i:nknown." The hamnting-bird upon the rose
Sits idly, careless of all foes;
"So I am not to have your receipt," said
Aod all the children of the air
Fanny. " You put me among the empty nod-
The confidence of nature share.
dles." The days go by, we scarce know why,
*'
No, far from it. But go home and read We scarce know how ; they're bjru, they die,
'
Addison*3 Spectator,* and Washington Irving, And others come, and stillwe turn
those delicious old tales of the days of
.-\'id
And in the sky and air discern
A sense of heaviness and gloom,
King Arthur, and the Knights of the Ronnd
Though freighted with Cathay's perfume.
Table. Then, if you are determined on being Turning aside from written books,
r* writing woman, stick to good, old-fashioned We find our lessons in the brooks ;

English. And be sure of my deepest sympathy The leaf of the witch-hazel gleams
with you in your '
career.* " With the bright alphabet of dreams
In the lake lilies' bosom lie

Stars with twin-sisters In the sky ;

And the sweet violet offers up,

Within the aznre of her cop.
THE CASKET OF THE YEAR. The heavy freighted odorous hour.
BT WILME g. PABOB. And bids us prize the precious dower.

Pearl the SererUh. July.

5^aw the long, fervid summer days
Oppress the heart the saltry rays
;
ExcELLEsCE. Excellence is never granted to
Of solar beat make weak the oerve, man, bnt as the reward of labor. It argues,
And nifn from all their purpose swerve. indeed, no small strength of mind to persevere
And only ask some qalet epot in habits of industry, without the pleasure of
Where, all forgetting and forgot,
perceiving those advantages which, like the
Thejr may in indolence and ease,
Beneath the cool, umbrageous trees, hands of a clock, whilst they make their hourly
Or by the limpid streamlet, lie, approaches to their point, yet proceed so slowly
>&Dd wAtch the white clouds in the sky, as to escape observation.
 "HUSKS."
' And he would fain have filled himself with the husks that the swine did eat ; and no man gave unto him."

ET MARIO K HAKLAND.

[Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1563, by Locis A. Godet, in the clerk's otfice of the District
Court of the United States, in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.]

(Continued from page 563.)

CHAPTER XIV. reserved manners he would act the part of a

Lewis Hammond had thrown the whole weight real brother to her in any case, he wouJ4 te
;

of [lis iufluence in the family conclave, into the kind, and see that she wanted for nothing.

Newport scale ; and to this popular resort Sarah

weut, in Jnly, in company with the Bensons,
her mother, and Jeannie,
the party at Lewis's request and expense.
generous fellow acted in conformity with con-
science and judgment in this temporary exile
of his treasures ; and, consistent in his purpose
of rendering it a pleasure
wife, he made very light of his prospects of
lonely widowerhood, representing, instead, the
benefit she and the babe would draw from the
sea-breezes, and his enhanced enjoyment of his
weekly visits, because they tcere so far apart.
He went with them to the shore, at their general
tiittiug, and spent two days saw for himself
that those whose comfort was nearest his heart
were properly accommodated privately feed
ch.imberraaid and waiter, with hints of future
emolument to accrue to them
Then shot into his head by some unseen
and unaccountable machinery there darted
who was made one of across his mind a fragment of a conversation
The he had cverlieard, at entering his parlor, the
day before the Bensons left. Philip and Lucy
were standing before a miniature painting of
Sarah and her child, completed and brought
excursion to his home a short time previous. Although seem-
ingly intent upon the picture, their conversa-
tion must have strayed far from the starting-
point, for the first sentence that reached the
unintentional listener was a tart, scornful
speech from Lucy, that could by no stretch of
the imagination be made to apply to her sister.
;
" If you admire her so much, why did you
not marry her when you had the opportunity ?
;
She was willing enough !"
" Take care you do not make me regret that
from special I did not do so 1" was Philip's stern rejoinder

regard to the wants of Mrs. and her Hammond as he turned from her.
infant, and returned
town with the unenvi-
to The change of position showed liim that
able consciousness of having left at least three- Lewis was present, and for a second his in-
fourths of himself behind him. imitable self-possession wavered. Recovering
A brisk rush of business beguiled bim of the himself, he reverted to the picture, and called
aching, hollow void for a few hours after he upon his host to decide some disputed point in
got back. Not even Baby Belle's accents could its artistic execution which he and Lucy were
be heard amid that roar and whir. But at discussing.
luncheon-time, while waiting for his order to " Poor fellow he has learned that all is not
!

be filled at a restaurant, the dreary, solitary
void overtook him a fit of unmistakable home-
sickness, that yet caused him to recoil at the
idea of entering the deserted house up-town,
when evening should oblige him to seek a
lodging. How were Sarah and baby getting
.along without him ? He was afraid that Lucy
was not, in all respects, as congenial a com-
panion as he could have wished his wife to
gold that glitters !"mused Lewis to the news-
paper he was pretending to re.id. "Lucy had
a high reputation for amiability before she was
Mrs. Benson. There is no touchstone like the
wedding-ring to bring out one's trae qualities."
He with his back to the entrance of the
sat
saloon, and the table directly behind him was
now taken possession of by three or four new
arrivals
all gentlemen, and apparently on

have, and that Mrs. Hunt's undisguised world- familiar terms with one another. They called
liness, her foolish love of fashion and display, for a bountiful lunch, including wine, and
would annoy and mortify her sensible",
often plunged into a lively, rather noisy talk. Lewis
right-judging daughter. Benson was capital closed his ears, and applied himself in earnest

company, though a gentleman, every inch of to his paper. He started presently .it a word
him and very friendly to Sarah. But for her
! he could have declared was his name. Re-
52
 63

'^training tb impnlse to look around and see deeply as he admitted himself to the front hall,
who group was known to liira, he yet
of the that echoed dismally the sound of tho closing
(onld not help trying to determine this point door. His next movement was to walk into
hy their voices. One, a thin falsetto, lie fan- the parlor, throw open a shutter, and let in the
cied belonged to George Kond, who Was no evening light upon the portraits of the dear
more of a favorite with him than was his better absent ones. There he stood, scanning their
half with Sarah. Lewis regarded him as a faces eyes and soul full of love and longing
conceited rattle-pate, whose sole talent lay in until the mellow glow passed away and left

the art of making money whose glory was his them in darkness.
purse. " Wliy should he be talking about me The comfortless evening repast was over,
here? Nonsense I was mistaken !" and an-
; and he betook himself to the library, Sarah's
other page of the newspaper was turned. favorite room, as it was also )iis. Her low
" Wl\en I leave my wife at Newport, or any- easy-chair stood in its usual place opposite his,
where else, in the particular and brotherly care at the centre-table, but her work-basket was
of one of her former flames, publish me as a missing ; likewise the book, with its silver
crazy fool !" said the wiry voice again, almost marker, that he was wont to see lying side by
in the reader's ear. side with some volume he bad selected for his
" He doesn't know old stories as well as you own reading. But one lay there now, and
do, perhaps," replied some one. there was an odd choking in his throat as be
" I should tliiiik not ! When mi/ wife pulls read the title on the back. He had expressed
the wool over my eyes in that style, horsewhip a wish for it in Sarah's hearing some days be-
me around town, and I won't cry 'Quarter!' ibre, and her delicate forethought had left it
Sister's husband or not, I 'U be hanged if I here as a solace and keepsake, one that should,
would have him in my house for two weeks, while reminding him of her, yet charm aw.iy
and he such a good-looking dog, too I" sad feelings in her absence. Even in the ex-
He stopped, as if his neighbor had jogged terior of the gift, she had been regardful of his
Kini, as Lewis looked over his shoulder in the taste. The binding was solid and rich no ;

direction of the gossip. A dead and awkward gaudy coloring or tawdry gilt the thick smooth ;

'silence ensued, ended at last by the pertinent
observation that the " waiter was a longtime
bringing their lunch."
In a maze of angry doubt and incredulity as
to the evidence of his senses and suspicions,
Lewis finished his meal, and stalked out past
the subdued and now voracious quartette, favor-
ing them with a searchiug look as he went by,
which they sustained with great meekness.
All the afternoon a heavy load lay upon his
paper and clear type were a luxury to touch
and sight. Lewis was no sentimentalist, in
the ordinary acceptation of the term, yet he
kissed the name
his wife had traced npon the
fly-leaf ereho sat down to employ the evening
as she by her gift tacitly requested him to do.
But it was a useless attempt. The book was
not in fault, and he shonid have read it in-
tently, if only because she bad bestowed it
still the hand that held it sank lower and

heart an indefinable dread he dared not ana- lower, until it rested upon his knee, and the
lyze a foreboding he would not face, yet could
; reader was the thinker instead. The most
not dismiss. prosaic of human beings have their seasons of
"You are blue, IjewisI" said Mr. Marlow, reverie pleasing or mournful, which are, un-
kindly, as they started up town together. known often to themselves, the poetry of their
" This is the worst of having a wife and chil- lives. Such was the drama Lewis Hammond
dren you miss them so terribly when they are
; was now rehearsing in bis retrospective dreamr.
away. But you will get nsed to it. Make up The wan and weary mother, whom he re-
your mind at the eleventh hour to cross the membered as always clothed in widow's weeds,
water, and stay abroad three months. You and in painful drudgery to maintain
toiling
will be surprised to find how easy your mind herself and her only boy who had smiled ;

will become after a couple of weeks." and wept, rendered thanksgivings and uttered
" I am satisfied, sir, without making personal prayers for strength, .ilternately, as she heard
trial of the matter, that men do become innred Mr. M.arlow's proposal to protect and help the
to misery, which seemed in the beginning to lad through the world that had borne so hardly
l* insupportable." npon her who had strained him to her bosom,
;

Mr. Marlow laughed, and they separated. and shed fast, hot tears of speechless anguish
Lewis sighed as he looked up at the blinds at their parting a farewell that was never to
of his bouse, shut fast
and grim, and still more be forgotten in any meeting ou this side of
5*
 godey's lady's book and magazine.

eternity ; this was the vision, hers the palla- mamma, caring nothing for beaux and ball-
<lium of love, that had nerved him for the close room, is preparing to follow her."
wrestle with fortune, guarded him amid the Beaux and ball-room I Pshaw I why should
Imrning ploughshares of temptation, carried the nonsensical talk of that jackanapes, George
him unscathed past the hundred mouths of Bond, come to his mind just then ? The whole
hell, that gape upon the innocent and unwary tenor of the remarks that succeeded the name
in all large cities. Cold and unsusceptible as he imagined was his disproved that imagina-
he was deemed in society, he kept unpolluted tion. But who had left his wife at Newport
in his breast a fresh, living stream of genuine in the care of a " good-looking" brother-in-
romantic feeling, such as we are apt to think law who had been domesticated in the family
?

went out of fashion aye, and out of being of tlie deluded husband for a fortnight ?
with the belted knights of yore we.ilth he had ; Pshaw again What concern had he with
1

vowed never to squander, never reveal, until their scandalous, doubtless slanderous tattle ?

he should pour it, without one thought of self- " Why you not marry her when you had
did
ish reserve, upon his tcifc! He never hinted the opportunity ? She was willing enough !"
this to a living creature before the moment Could Lucy have spoken thus of her sister ?
came for revealing it to the object of his choice. Sarah was barely acquainted with Philip Ben-
He was a " predestined old bachelor !" an "in- son when Lucy wedded him, having met him
fidel to love and the sex," said and believed but once prior to the wedding-day at the house
the gay ivnd frivolous, and he let them talk. of her aunt in the country, from which place
His idea! woman, his mother's representative his own letter penned by her father's sick bed

and successor the beauty and crown of his recalled her. How far from his thoughts then

existence was too sacred for the gaze and was the rapid train of consequences that fol-
comment of iuditierent worldlings. For her he lowed upon this preliminary act of their inter-
labored, and studied, and lived confident in ;
course !

& fatalistic belief that, at the right moment, Did that scoundrel Bond say "Hammond ?"
the dream would become a reality the phan- It was not a common name, and came quite

tasm leave her cloudy height for his arms. distinctly to his ears in the high, xmpleasant
Love so beautiful and intense as this, like snow key he so disliked. A flush of honest shame
cannot be
in its purity, like fire in its fervor, arose to his forehead at this uncontrollable
won to full and eloquent utterance but by straying of his ideas to a topic so disagreeable.

answering love a sentiment identical in kind, and so often rejected by his mind.

jf not equal in degree ; and Sarah Hammond's "As if even had

been the person insulted
I

stimate of her husband's affection was, in

by his pity I would believe one syllable he
onsequence of this want in herself, cruelly said of a woman as far above him in virtue
unjust in its coldness and poverty. His patience and intellect, iu everything good and lovable,
with her transient fits of gloom or waywardness as the heavens are lifted above the earth I !

in the early mouths

married life his
of their ;
would despise myself as much as I do him, if

noble forgetfnlness of her faults, and grateful I could lend my ear for an instant to so de-
.-ivknowledgment of her most trilling effort to grading a whisper I wish I had faced him and
!

please him his unceasing care

; his lavish ;
demanded the whole tale yet no that would ; !

bounty all these she attributed too much to have been rash and absurd. Better as it is
natural ansialiility and conscientious views of By to-morrow, I shall laugh at my ridiculous

duty ; too little to his warm regard for her, fancies !"
personally. In this persuasion she had copied " y cratch ! The house
scratch! scratch!"
his conduct in externals so far as she could was so still midnight that
in the approaching

.ind applauding observers adjudged the mock the slight noise caused him a shock and qui-
frem to be a fair and equitable equivalent for ver in the excited state of his nerves. The
the rare pearl she had received. interruption was something between a scrape
Lest this digression, into which I have been and a rap, three times repeated, and proceed-
inadvertently betrayed, should mislead any ing, apparently, from the bookcase at liis right.

with the idea that I have some design of digni- What be ? He had never seen or
could it

fying into a hero this respectable, but very
'ommonplace personage, return we to him as
he hears eleven o'clock rung out by the moni-
tor on the mantel, and says to himself, " liaby
Belle lias been asleep these three hours, and
heard of a mouse on the premises, nor did the
sound much resemble the nibbling of that
animal. Ashamed of the momentary thrill he
had experienced, he remained still and collect-
ed, awaiting its repetition.
 'HUSK3.' 55

"Scratch! scratch! rap!" It iias in the when Sarah loved him, and had reason to think
bookcase
in the lower part where were drawers herself beloved in return I What was this
shat in by solid doors. These he had never sable badge but the insignia of a bereaved
explored, but knew that his wife kept pam- heart, that mourned still in secret the faithless-
phlets and papers in them. He opened the ness of her early love, or the adverse fate that
outer doors cautiously, and listened again, had sundered him from her, and given him to
nutil assured by the scratching that his search another ?
was in the right direction. There were three Crushing the frail, dead stems in his hand,
drawers, two deep, the third and upper shallow. he threw them back into the box. and took up
This he drew out and examined. It contained a bit of dark gray wood, rough on one side
writing-paper and envelopes, all in good order. smoothed on the other into a rude tablet.
Nor was there any sign of the intruder amongst " Philip Bensnn, Deal Beach. Juhj 11th, 18.
the loosa music and periodicals in the second. Pense: d moi .'" Bnt ten days before he met
The lower one was locked
no doubt accident- her at the wharf in New York to take her to
ally, forhe had never seen Sarah lock up any- her sick father but three months before she
!

thing except jewels and money. Their servants plighted her troth to him, promised to wed
were honest, and she had no cause to fear him, while in spirit she was weepingstill

investigation on his part. tears of blood over the inconstant for he did !

Feeling, rather than arguing thus, he re-
moved the drawer above, leaving exposed the
locked one, and thrust his hand down into
Itencountered the polished surface of a small
box or case, which he was in the act of drawing
through the aperture left by the second drawer,
when something dark and swift ran over his
hand and np his sleeve. With a violent start,
not forget that Philip's engagement to Lucy
preceded his own to Sarah by eight or nine
it. weeks. There were other relics in the box, a
half-worn glove, retaining the shape of the
manly h.and it had inclosed whicli, he learned
afterwards, Philip had left in his chamber at
the farm-house when he departed to seek
gayer scenes a white shell, upon whose rosy
;

he dashed the casket and another

to the floor,
energetic fling of his arm dislodged the mouse.
His first care was to pursue and kill it his ;
next to examine into the damage it had indi-
rectly produced.
The box ebony, lined with
sandal- wood had fallen with such force as to
loosen the spring, and lay on its side wide open
its treasures strewed over the carpet. They
were neither numerous, nor in themselves valu-
able. A bouquet of dried flowers, enveloped
in silver paper, lay nearest Lewis's hand, as he
lining were scratched with the point of a knife
the ominous initials "P. B.," and beneath them
" S. B. H.," a faded rose-bud, and several
printed slips, cut from the columns of newspa-
pers. He unfolded but two of these.
One was an extract from i^nnyson's "Mand"
;
the invitation to the garden. Breathlessly,
by reason of the terrible stricture tightening
around his heart, Lewis ran his eyes over th
charming whimsical morceau. They rested
upon and reviewed the last verse :

knelt to pick up the scattered articles. The "She is coming my own, ray sweet
paper was tied about the stalks of the flowers Were it ever so airy a tread,
with black ribbon, and to this was attached a flty heart would bear her and beat

card: "Will Miss Sarah accept this trifling Were it earth in an earthy bed,
My dust wonld hear her and beat
token of regard from one who is her stanch Had I lain for a century dead,
friend,and hopes, in time, to have a nearer Would start and tremble under her fpet,

claim upon her esteem ?" And blossom in purple and red.'*
The hand was familiar to the reader as Philip He did not discriminate now between printed
Benson's. Why should Sarah preserve this, and written verses. These were love stanzas
while the many floral tokens of his love which sent by another man to his wife, received and
she had received were flung away when with- cherished by her, hidden away with a care
ered like worthless weeds ? The pang of jeal- that, in itself, bordered on criminality, for was
ousy was new sharp as the death-wrench to not its object the deception of the injured hus-
the heart-strings, cruel as the grave ! The band ? The most passionate autograph love-
card was without date, or he would have read, letter could hardly have stabbed him more
with a different apprehension of its meaning, keenly.
the harmless clsinse" And hopes in time to The other was Mrs. Browning's exquisite
have a nearer claim upon her esteem." There "Portrait."
was a time, then, when, as Lucy had taunted And here the reader can bavp an explanation
her husband, he might have married her sister 1 the tortured man could no^obtain. WHh the
 godey's lady's book and magazine.

acumen for which Cupid's votaries are prover- at Mrs.Hammond's door. Her features wore a
bial, Philip Benson, then at the "summer most woe-begoue expression.
heat" degree of his flame for the Saratoga belle, " What has gone wrong, Jeannie f" inquired
liad recognized in this poem the most correct Sarah,
and beautiful description Cu-
of his lady-love. "Why, mamma says that I will be in her
riosity to see if the resemblance were apparent way if I go into the ball-room ; and it will be
to other eyes, and a desire
sympathy tempted
for so stupid to stay out the whole evening, while
Uim to forwairl it to Sarah. She must perceive all the other girls can see the dancing and
tlie likeness to her divine sister, and surmise dresses, and hear the music. And sister Lucy
the sentiment that had induced him to send it. says that children are 'bores' in company."
A little alteration in the opening stanza was "A sad state of things, certainlyPerhaps !

requisite to make it "a perfect fit." Thus it I may persuade mother to let you go."
ran when the chiinge was made : "Yes; but if she does, she will" sit close
" I will paint her as I nee her: against the wall with a lot of other fat old
times liave the lilies blown ladies, and they will talk over my head, and
Since she looked upon the sun." squeeze me almost to death, besides rumpling
The poetess, guiltless of any intention to cater my dress and I so want to wear my tucked
;

for the wants of grown-up lovers, had written pink grenadine, sister!"
Ten" in the space made blank by Philip's " And you would like to have me go down
gallantry and real ignorance of his charmer's with you is that it ?"
;

age. For the rest, the "lily-clear face," the Jeannie's eyes beamed delightedly. " Oh,
'forehead fair and saintly," the "trail of if you only would !"
golden hair," the blue eyes, " like meek prayers Sarah looked down into the eager face and
before a shrine ;" the voice that saw, in anticipation, her own little Belle im-
' 31armnrs lowly, ploring some boon, as important to her, as easy
As a silver stream may run, to be granted by another as this, and consented
Which yet feels you feel the sun" with a kiss.
were, we may safely assert, quite as much like " Run away and bring your finery here 1

poor Sarah, when he sent the poem, as they Mother is too busy to attend to you. Mary
were now like the portrait he would if put can dress you."

upon his oath sketch of his unidealized Lucy. The order was obeyed with lightning speed ;

It was not unnn*iral then, in Lewis Ham- and Sarah, still beholding in the excited child
i7joud, to overlook, in his present state, these the foreshadowing of her darling's girlhood,
glaring discrepancies in the picture as applied superintended the toilet, while she made her-
by him. With a blanched and rigid counte- self ready.
nance he put all the things back into the box, "What shall I wear, Jeannie?" she asked,
^<hut it, .^nd restored it to its place. Then he carelessly, holding open the door of her ward-
knelt on the floor and hid his face in lier chair ;
robe.
and there struggled out into the still air of the "0 that lovely fawn-colored silk, please!
desecrated home-temple, made sacred by his the one with the black lace flounces It is the !

love and her abiding, deep sobs from the strong prettiest color I ever saw and I heard Mrs. ;

man's stricken heart a grief as much more Greyling tell another lady the night you wore
fearful than that of widowerhood, as the deser- it, when brother Lewis was here, you know,
tion and dishonor of the loved one are worse that was one of the richest dresses in the
it

than death. room, modest as it looked, and that the flounces

must have cost a penny 1"
" Probably more !"
Sarah proceeded to array herself in the for-
CHAPTER XV. tunate robe that had won the praise of the
It was the "grand hop" night at the head- fashionably distinguislied Mrs. Greyling. Her
quarters of Newport fashion. Sarah, charac- abundant dark hair was lighted by two coral
teristically indift'erent to gayeties "made to sprigs, which formed the heads of her hair-
order," had detennined not to appear below. pins, and handkerchief and gloves in hand, she
The her room was fresh and pure, and a
air of was taking a last survey of Jeannie's more
book, yet unread, lay under the lamp upon her brilliant costume when there came a knock at

table. Her sister and mother had withdrawn the door.

to dress, when Jeannie's curly head peeped in
" Mr. Benson 1" said Mary, unclosing it.
 'HUSKS. 57

" May I come in f" he asked. bobbing and waiving in their earnest confabu-
The tidy Mary had removed all traces of tlie lations, in a style that presented a ludicrously
recent tiring operations from the apartment, marked resemblance to the gesticulations of a
which was a compound of parlor and dressing- group of Muscovy ducks, on the margin of a
room, a necessary adjunct to the small chamber mud-puddle, held by them in their capacity of
and smaller nursery, leading out of it, at tho a, joint stock comp.iuy.
side and rear. "I see that Lucy has taken the floor," ob-
"You may!" replied Sarah. "Here is an served Philip. " She will not thank me for
aspirant for b>all-room honors, who awaits your any devoirs I could render her for the nest
approval." three hours. they get up anything so hum-
If
" Mademoiselle, que vous ctes chavmante ! drum may I ask the pleasure cf
as quadrilles,
I am penetrated witli profound admiration 1" your company for the set ?"
exclaimed the teasing brother-in-law, raising
"If yon wish it and my dress is not too
his hands in true melodramatic style. grave in hue
Jeannie laughed and blushed until her cheeks "And too decorous in its make, you were
matched the grenadine. about to add, I presume," lie finished the sen-
" Mrs. Hunt told me that you had changed tence bluntly. " It forms a refreshing contrast
yonr mind, and intended to gr.ace the festive to the prevailing style around us."
scene with your presence," continued Philip, Lucy here flitted into sight, and her very
addressing Sanah. " She and Lucy are there, bare arms and shoulders pointed her husband's
and the dancing has begun. I came to escort strictures. A stool, brought into the room for

you and our fair debutante here that is, unless the use of some child or invalid looker-on of
some one else has offered his services and been the festivities, now empty under Sarah's
stood
accepted." chair, and Philip, espying it, seized upon and

" That is not likely, since Mr. Hammond left drew it forth. When seated, his mouth was
us in your care. Do not your fourfold duties nearly on a level with Sarah's ear.
oppress you ?" " This is pleasant '" he said. "We are quite
" Not in the least. If all of my charges were as much isolated from the rest of mankind as
as chary of their calls upon me as you are, my if we were sitting among the heathery hillocks

time would hang heavily upon my hands. No
one would imagine, fronj your reluctance to be
waited upon, that you had been spoiled at
home. If Mr. Hammond were here now, he
would tell you to draw that shawl
" It is an opera-cloak !" interrupted Jeannie.
"A ball-cloak to-night, then, is
was saying that, although the night
for sea air, you had better wrap that mantle
on Deal Beach. You do not love the visions
of those tranquil, sunny days as I do. Y'ou
never allude to them voluntarily. Y'et you
have had less to convert your dreams into
every day actualities, tedious and prosaic, than
I have. I st.and in direful need of one of the
it not? I old lectures, inculcating more charity, and less
is not cool study of complex motives and biassed tenden-
cies in the machine we call Man. Begin I am !

alx)utyonr chest and throat as we go out." at your mercy."

Just outside the door, a waiter passed them "I have forgotten how to deliver them. I
with a note in his hand. He stopped, on seeing am out of practice."
Philip. "That is not surprising. Your husband is

"Mr. Benson! I was on my way to yonr behind the age he lives in and so are you.
rooms with this, sir." Y'ou two wouldmake Barnum's fortune, could
Philip stepped back within the parlor to read he ever persuade the public of your idiosyn-
itby the light. It was a line from a friend who crasies."
had just arrived at another hotel, notifying him "
What are you talking about ?"
of this fact. It required no reply, and leaving " Look aronnd and through this room, .xnd
it upon the he rejoined his companions.
table, you will understand one part of my meaning.
"See mamma! Isn't it just as I said?" Do you remark the preponderance of married
whispered Jeannie, as she established herself over single belles ? and that the most tenderly
beside her sister in a comfortable corner that deferential cavaliers are Iiusbands, and not
commanded a view of the spacious hall and its dancing with their wives f I conld point out
gay, restless sea of figures. to you three men, leaders of the ton in this ex-
Sarah smiled at discovering her mother sand- tremely reputable, eminently moral assembly,
wiched between two portly dowagers one in ; who, it is whispered among the knowing ones,
pnrple, the other in lavender silk ; all three aie married, and, having left their domestic
 GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

associations for a season of recreation, boldly gruous blending of past emotion with present
attach themselves to certain stylish young duty, were now aggravated by the enforced
ladies here, and challenge observation, defy acceptance of unmerited fraise. Her woman's
pnblic censure, by their marked and increasing instinct, her experience as a wife, told her that
devotion. I meet them strolling along the beach the cause of tlie sinful recklessness, the con-
in the morning riding together in the after-
; tempt of the true spirit of the marriage tie was
noon and when not engaged in this evening
; not the fruit merely of the vanity and thirst for
exhibition of toilet and muscle, you will find adulation, to which it was properly attributed.
them pacing the moon or star-lit piazza, or, With the recollection of her own life, the edu-
perchance, again sentimentalizing on the shore cation she had received at home, the hateful,
until the witching hour draws near." yet even to her independent spirit resistless
" You surprise me !" decrees of society, there swelled up within her
" You Lave no right to he surprised. You bosom something akin to Philip's bitter cyni-
have the same thing continually before you in cism. Under this spur, she spoke.
your city. Every fashionable hotel or boarding- "And from these signs of the times, you
house can supply you with such flirtations by would argue an inherent degeneracy of woman-
the dozen. A married woman who declines
hood a radical change in its composition,
the polite services of any gentleman, except such as some anatomists tell us has taken
lier husband and near relatives, is a prude, place in the structure of our bodies our blood
with false scruples of propriety and delicacy. our very teeth. A dentist, who filled a tooth
Let her legal partner comjilain he is cried out for me the other day, imparted divers scien-
upon as a despot, and you can trust the sweet tific items of information to me that may illus-

angel of an abused wife to elude his vigilance trate your position. Enamel, madam, is not
'

violence, she terms it for the future, with- what enamel was in the days of our ancestors I'
out altering her conduct in aught else. Do he aflirmed, pathetically. The color, the very '

you see that pretty woman in blue the one ingredients of the bone, the calcareous base of
with the JLadonna-like face ? Her tyrant is the teeth differ sadly from the indestructible

here but once a week from Saturday until molars of At this passage of
fifty years ago.'

Monday then hies back to the business he he chanced to touch the nerve
his jeremiade,
loves as well as she does her pleasure. Mon- in the unhappy molar' he was excavating,
'

day, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and I am persiraded that I suffered as really as
and the forenoon of Saturday, any moustach- my grandmother would have done, had she sat
ioed puppy may walk, talk, drive, and flirt in my place."

with her bask in the rays of those liquid Slie paused, and beat time with her fingers
orbs. Wheu the rightful lord appears, she is on Jeannie's shoulder to the wild, varying
demure as a imn, patient as a saint, dutiful as waltz that swept the giddy crowd around the
him alone. Do you begin
Oriselda, to liim and room in fast and flying circles.
to understand why I congratulated you upon " Your analogy asserts, then, that at heart
having a husband of the olden stamp ? why I women are alike in all ages ?"
do from my heart felicitate my friend Hammond " Why not, as well as men ?"
upon having gained, as a helpmeet, one of " Then why does not action remain the same,
tliat nearly obsolete species Woman!" if that be true?"

Sarah's embarrassment was painful, and but

"Because custom fashion, if you prefer this
indifferently concealed. She felt that it was name an unaccountable, irresponsible power
barely excusable, in consideration of his frater- owing its birth oftenest to accident or caprice,
nal relation to her, for Philip to speak so plainly says, 'Do this !' and it is done 1 be it to per-
iif blemish and altogether unpar-
this social ;
petrate a cravat-bow, a marriage, or a murder I"
donable, while he did not or could not prevent Another pause in which music and dancers
Ills wife's participation in the questionable seemed sweeping on to sweet intoxication so
gayeties he assailed so unsparingly. Reply joyous in their ahandon were the gushing
she oould not, without implicating Lucy in her strains ; so swift the whirl of the living ring.
reprobation,and he must perceive her difficulty. The fingers played lightly and rapiiUy on .Tean-
This was the trouble that lay uppermost. At nie's plump shoulder then rested on a half-
her heart's core, the uneasy feeling she ever beat.
experienced in conversation with him ; the "Yes !" She was looking towards the crowd,
stirring of the entombed love, of whose actual but her eye was fixed, and her accents slow
death she had hon'ible misgivings ; the Incon- and grave. " Hearts live and hearts love.
 HUSKS. 59

wbiltitime endures. The heart selects its mate had no

right to think much less to utter. If

iu spriugtime, with judgment as uu-

lile'3 my freedom has displeased you, I am sorry.'
taughl as that of the silly bird that .isks no '

The error if error there were was mine,"
compauiou bat the one the liod of Nature has rejoined Philip. " I led the conversation into
bestowed upon it. But see you not, my good the channel ;
you, after awhile, followed. I

brother'" she faced him, a smile wreathing believe there is no danger of our misunder-
her lip a strange glitter in her eye "see standing each other.'"
vou not to what woeful disorders these un- "Darby and Joan good children in the cor-
!

trained desires, this unsophisticated following
out of unregulated affections would give rise ?
It would sap the foundations of caste level
all wholesome distinctions
-heaccomplished daughters of palatial halls
hoary with a semi-decade of years to one-
ner!" cried Lucy, flushed with exercise and
radiant with good-humor, as she promenaded
; past them leaning on the arm of a young West
of society ; consign Pointer, a native Southerner and an acquaint-
ance of Philip's. If his wife must flirt and
frolic, he was watchful that she did not compro-

story cottages and a maid-of-all work doom ; mise him by association with doubtful ch.irac-
nice youug men to the drudgery of business, ters. On several occasions, the advances of
forthe remainder of their wretched lives, to gay gentlemen, whose toilets were more nearly
uaintain wives whose dowries would not keep irreproachable than their reputations, had been
their lily-handed lords in French kids for a checked by his cool and significant resumption of
year cover managing mammas with ignominy,
; the husband's post beside the belle, aud if need

and hasten ambitious papas to their costly existed, by the prompt withdrawal of the unwil-
vaults iu ad Dickens has it
' some genteel ling lady from the scene. The c.idet laughed,
place of interment." Come what may of blasted and, convinced that she had said a witty thing.
hopos aud wrecked hearts, the decencies of Lucy swam by.
life must be observed. Every heart has its "The common sense of our tropes and rhodo-

nerve genuine, sensitive, sometimes vulgarly mont.tdes aud allegories is this!" said Philip,
tenacious of life but there are corrosives that biting his lip, and speaking in a hard tone.
wiil eat it out ; fine, deadly wires, that can "The only safe ground in marriage is mutual,
probe and torture and extract it. And when permanent afl'oction. You meant to convey tbu
the troublesome thing is finally gotten rid of, idea that if each of these dressy matrons,
there is an end to all obst.tcles to judicious humming around onr ears, had a sincere, abid-
courtships and eligible alliances She laugh- !'
ing love for her husband and each of these
ad scornfully, and Philip recoiled, without gallant Benedicks the right kind of regard for
knowing why he did so, as he heard her. his wedded Beatrice, the vocation of ua corner
"That is all very well, when the nature of censors would be gone ?"
the contract is understood on both sides," he " Well said, Mr. Interpreter!" she responded
said, gloomily. '
I doubt, however, whether in affected jest.
the beautiful economy of yonr system will be "This poiut settled, will you take my arm
appreciated by those whose living hearts are for a turn through the room before the next set
bound to the bloodless plaster-casts yoa do is formed? They are talking of qnadrilles. I

describe." shall claim your promise if a set is made up.

"These aooidents will occur in spite of cau- unless you are not courageous enough to havM
tion on the part of the best mauagers of suita- the public sneer by dancing with your brother.
ble marriages. By far the larger proportion of Come, Jeannie, aud walk with us."
the shocks inflicted upon polite circles arise Two sets of quadrilles were arranged at dif-
from this very cause. Pygmalion grows weary ferent ends of the saloon. Philip led Sarah
of wooing his statue, and wants sympathy in through one, with Lucy who considered it a
his disappointment and loneliness." capital joke
and the partner vis ct-vis to them.
The dauce was ended. The fantastic varia- Jeannie, meanwhile, remaining by her mother.
Uoaa of the waltz were exchanged for a noble The summer nights were short and, when ;

march pealing through the heated rooms like the dance was over, Sarah intimated to her
a rush of the healthful sea-breeze. The spark younger sister the propriety of retiring. Mrs.
died in Sarah's eye. Her voice took its habit- Hunt's head ached, and she esteemed the
sal pitch. sacrifice comparatively light, thrrefore, that
"have permitted myself to become escited,
I she, too, had to leave the revels and accompany
aud, I am afraid, have said many things that I the ohild to her chamber. Sarah's apartments
 :

60 godey's lady's book and magazine.

were on the same floor, several doors further on.
Having said "Good-night" to the others, she
and Philip (valked slowly along the piazza,
light as day in the moonbeams, until they
reached her outer room, the parlor.
"I hope you will experience no ill effects
from your dissipation,'' said Philip, in playful
irony. " In a lady of your staid habits, this
disposition to gayety is alarming.
eleven o'clock ! What will Hammond
when he hears the story ? Good-night Don't
letyour conscience keep you awake !"
Sarah opened the door softly, that she might
not startle the baby-sleeper in the inner room.
The lamp was shining brightly, and by it sat
her husband ! until
CHAPTER XVI.
forming was directly in front of her. Lewis
saw but the two, virtually tHe-d-tHe ; and, as
he obtained fleeting glimpses of them through
the shifting throng, marked Philip's energetic,
yet confidential discourse, and the intentness
with which she listened, until, warmed or ex-
cited by his theme, Sarah lifted her downcast
eyes and spoke, with what feeling and ettect
Absolutely her auditor's varying expression showed.
say The gazer stood there like a statue, unheed-
I ing the surprised and questioning looks cast by
passers-by upon his travelling-dress, streaked
with dust his sad and settled visage, so un-
befitting the scene within while Philip mad*
the tour of the room, with Sarah upon his arm,
they took their stations for the dance
he, courteous and attentive she, smiling and
happy, more beautiful in her husband's eyes
than her blonde sister opposite and he could
stay no longer. If Mary had thought
;

hira sick
Lewis had entered his wife's room within and cross at his former entrance, she considered
fifteen minutes after she left it. He looked so him savage now, for one who was ordinarily a
ill and weary that the girl, Mary, gave a stifled kind and gentle master.
scream of fright and surprise. "You can go to your room!" he ordered,
'Are you sick, sir?" she asked, hastily, as not advised. "I will sit up for Mrs. Ham-
he threw off his hat, and wiped his pale fore- mond I"
head. "Shall I toll Mrs. Hammond that you " I have slept in the nursery, sir, while you
are here ? She weut down to the ball-room were away."
awhile ago." "That cannot be to-night. I will find you
"What did you say f No!" replied he, some other place."
shortly. He had no intention that the anticipated
His frown rather than his tone silenced her. conversation with his wife should be overheard.
He had picked up the envelope Philip had " I can stay with a friend of mine, sir, only
dropped on the table, and his face darkened a few doors off."
still more. Too proud to question a servant of "Very well."
her mistress' actions and associates, he believed Quickly and quietly the nurse arranged the
that he had gathered from this mute witness night-lamp and the child's food, that her mis-
all that it was needful to know. As a privileged tress might have no trouble during her absence,
lia'ntui oi the cozy boudoir lie had been at such and weut out.
pains to procure and make fit for his wife's Baby Belle slumbered on, happily wandering
occupancy, another had sat here and read his through the guileless mazes of baby dream-
evening mail, while awaiting her leisure care- ; land one little arm, bared fi-om the sleeve of
;

less of appearances, since the deceived one her gown, thrown above her head the Iiand
would not be there to notice them, had tossed of the other cradling her cheek. The father
this note down with as much freedom as he ventured to press a light kiss npon the red lips.
would have done in his own apartment. In his desolation, he craved this trifling solace.
Through the open windows poured the dis- The child's face was contorted by an expressiou
tant strains of the band and, seized by a
; of discomfort, and, still dreaming, she mur-
sudden thought, he caught up his hat and mured, in her inarticulate language, some pet-
strode out, along piazzas and through halls, to tish expression of disgust.
the entrance-door of the ball saloon. As Sarah's "My very child shrinks from me! It is in
ill-fortune ordained it, the piercing glance that the blood !" said the unhappy man, drawing
ran over and beyond the crowd of spectators back from the crib.
and dancers detected her at the instant of If his resolution had waned at sight of the
Philip's taking his lowly seat at her side. sleeper, it was when he returned
fixed again
Jeannie's pink attire was concealed by the dra- to his chair in the outer room. He raised his
pery of a lady, whose place in the set then head from his folded arms when lie heard Philip
 'HUSKS. 61

ami Sarah approaching, bnt did not otherwise She threw herself at his feet, clasped his
alter his position. The low tone of their part- knees, and implored him, chokingly, to " for-

ing words one soon learned by the sojourners give" her. " Oh I if you knew what I have
in hotels and watering-places, where thin par- suffered !"
titions and Tentilatora abound was, to liiin, " What you have suffered I" He folded his
the cautiously repressed voice of affectionate arms and looked sorrowfully down at her
good-nights. But one clause was distinct crouching figure. " Yes you were not by na- !

" What will Hammond say, when he hears the ture coarse .and unfeeling The violence you !

story?" They jested thus of him, then. One have committed upon your heart and every
of them, at least, should learn ere long what he principle of delicacy and truth must have cost
would say. you pain. Then, you loved him !"
" Lewis I yon here I" "Once! a long while ago I" said Sarah,
Sarah changed color with amazement and hands.
hi'ling her face in her

vague alarms emotion that paralyzed her mn- "Take, care!"There was no softness now
raeiitarily. Then, a-s she discerned the tokens in his tone. " Remember that I have seen you
of disorder in his dress and countenance, she together day by day, and that glances and
hurried forward. actions, unnoticed at the time in my stupid
"What has brought you so unexpectedly? blindness, recur to me now with terrible mean-
Are you sick Has anything happened ?'
? ing. For once, speak the true voice of feeling,
He and, resting her hand on
did not rise ; and own what I know already, that all the
his shoulder, she stooped for a kiss. But his love you ever had to give belongs still to
stem gaze never moved from hers anxious your sister's husband !"
suid inquiring
and his lips were like stone. " I will speak the truth !" Sarah arose and
" Lewis, speak to me If you have dread- I
stood before him face and eyes burning.
livid
ful Dews to tell me, for pity's sake, do not keep " I did love this man married you, partly
! I

me in suspense !" to please my parents, partly because I found

"
have nothing to say that will be new to
I out that by some means my secret had fallen
you," he said, without relaxing his hard, cold into unscrupulous hands, and I was mad with
manner, " and not a great deal that ought to dread of its exposure It seemed to me that
!

have been kept back from me when I wished no worse shanie could come upon me than to
to marry you, believing that you had a heart have it trumpeted abroad that I had bestowed
to give me with your hand." my love unsought, and was ready to die because
As if struck in the face, Sarah sank back into it was slighted. have learned since that it
I

a chair, speechless and trembling. is far, far to despise myself

worse to live a
lie
" Yes had you been sincere with
I me then, Oh that I had died then !" She battled with
!

grieved and disappointed as I would have felt, the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her,
I would have respected you the more, and and went on. " Once bound to yon, it has
loved you none the less for the disclosure. been my hourly endeavor to feel and act as
But when, after a year and a half of married became the faithful wife of a kind, noble man.
life, I learii that the woman I have loved and If, sometimes, I have erred in thought if my
trusted with my whole sonl from whom I feelings have failed me iu the moment of trial
have never concealed a thought that it could yet, in word and deed, in look and gesture, I
interest her to know has all the while been have been true to yon. No one have I de-
playing a false part vowing at the altar to ceived more thoroughly than Philip Benson.
love me and me alone, when she secretly He never suspected ray unfortunate partiality
idolized another bearing my name, living
; for himself; he believes me still, what I would
beneath my roof, sleeping in my bosom yet give worlds to become in truth, your loyal,
thinking of and caring for him, treasuring his loving wife It is well that you know the
!

keepsakes as the most precious of her pos- truth at last. I do not ask yon how you have
sessions is it strange that, when the tongue of obtained the outlines of a disgraceful story,
a vulgar gossip proclaims my shame in my hear- that I have tried a thousand times to tell you,
ing,and other evidence proves what I thought but was prevented by the fear of losing your
was his vile slander, to be true as gospel is it favor forever. This is my poor defence not
strange, I say, that am incensed at the decep-
I against your charges, but in palliation of the
tion practised npon me at the infamous out- sin of which they justly accuse me. I can say
!"
rage of my dearest hopes my most holy feel- nothing more. Do with me as yon will
ings ?" " It is but just to myself that you should
VOL. LXVII.
62 godey's lady's book and magazine.

hear the circumstances which accidentally re- must remain here awhile longer under your
vealed this matter to me." mother's care. To accomplish the same end,
He narrated the scene at the restaurant, and I must appear once more in public, and on

the discovery of the evening. He evinced apparently friendly terms with your brother-
neither relenting nor sympathy in the recital. in-law. Whenyour mother returns to the
Her confession had extinguislied the last ray city, you had best go, too, and to your own
of hope, cherished, though unacknowledged by house. Your brother Robert is now sixteen
himself, that she might extenuate her error or years old steady and manly enough to act as
give a more favorable construction to the evi- your protector. Invite him to stay with you,
dence against lier. It was not singular that, and also Jeannie, if you find it lonely."
in the reaction of disappointment, he was ready "What .are you saying? Where will you
to believe that he had not heard all to imag- ; be that you speak of my choosing another pro-
ine that he could perceive throughout her tector?"
statement a disposition to screen Pliilip, that "A very incompetent one I have proved
was, iu itself, a proof of disingenuousuess, if myself to be !" he returned, with the same sad

not deliberate falsehood.She denied that he smile. "I have not been able to shield you
had ever been aware had
of her attachment or from invidious reports still less to save you ;

reciprocated it. What meant then those words from yourself. Europe day after to-
I sail for
"hopes in time to have a nearer claim?" morrow."
what those impassioned verses 1 what the " Lewis, you will not If you ever loved !

linking of their initials within the shell ? the me, do not desert me and our child now I !

motto on the wooden tablet ? While these sub- will submit to any punishment but this !" She
tle queries were insinuated into his soul by clung anew to his knees as she poured out her
some mocking spirit, he concluded the history prayer.
of the discovery of the casket. Not a month ago she had turned pale with
"have never opened it since the night
I tliis voyage.
fright at the suggestion of It was

before I was married," said Sarah, with no sheer acting then ! why not now ?
haste of self justification. " I put it into the "Objections are useless!" he said. "My
dr.T,wer the day after we went to our house. arrangements are made. I have passed my
It has not been unlocked from that day to this." word."
" Why keep it at all, unless as a memento of " But you will not leave me in anger! Say
one still dear to you ?" . that you forgive me ! that you will return
" I felt as if I had buried it. I said to my- soon, this miserable night be forgotten !"
and
self : 'If the time ever comes when Ican dis- " Shall I tell you when I will return ?" He
inter these relics and show them to my husband, raised her head, and looked straight into her
without a pang or fear, as mementoes of a eyes. " When you write to me, and tell me
dead and almost forgotten folly, he shall de- that you have destroyed the love-tokens in that
stroy them, and I sliall have gained a victory box when you bid me come back for yonr
;

will insure my lifelong happiness.'

" sake not for our child's Until then, I sh.iU
that !

"And that time has never arrived." believe that my presence would be irksome to
Sbe would have spoken, but her tongue you. It is necessary for our house to have a
proved traitorous. She crimsoned and was resident partner in England. It is my expec-
silent. tation to fill that place for some time to come ;

Lewis smiled drearily. " You see that I it shall be for say how long."
you to

know you better than you do yourself. It is Bowed as Sarah's spirit was beneath the
well, as you have said, that I know all at last. burst of the long dreaded storm and her accus-
I pity you If I could, I would release you
! ing conscience, her womanly pride revolted at
from your bondage. As it is, I will do all that this speech. She had hnmbled herself in the
I can for this end." dust at the feet of a man whom she did not
"Never!" cried Sarah, shuddering. "Have love had borne meekly his reproaches sub-
; ;

you forgotten our child ?" mitted dumbly to the degrading suspicions that
" I have not !" His voice shook for a second. far transcended her actual sin : but as the idea
" She is all that unites us now. For the sake of her suing servilely for the love she had
of her future her good name an open separa- never yet valued of him, indifferent and in-
;

tion ought to be avoided, if possible. If it be dependent, awaiting afar oflf for her petition
inevitable, yotir conduct must not he the osten- hers, whom he had abandoned to the scornful

sible cause. To quiet malicious tongues, you sneers of the keen-witted hyenas of society to ;
 "ncsKS." 63

the cross-examination of her distrustful rela- this respect, as in everything else, according to
tives ; the stings of remorse ; left in one word the dictates of your will ami pleasure. At the
to herself! as this picture grew up clearly be- end of a certain term of years specified by law,
fore her mind, the tide of feeling turned. you can, if you wish, procure a divorce on the
" You reject my prayers and despise my ground of my wilful and coutiuned deser^jon of
tears!" she said, proudly. "You refuse to you iu which case, the provision for your
;

accept of my Yet you do not

humiliation. support will remain nnchanged. As to the
doubt me, as you would have me believe that child themother's is the strongest claim. I
vou do Else you wovild not dare to trust me
I shall never take her from you. Do not let me
the keeper of your honor and your child's keep you up longer. It is late I"
fair name
out of your sight I throw back I With a silent inclination of the he.ad, she
the charge in your teeth, and tell you that withdrew, and he cast himself upon the sofa,
your conduct gives it the lie I have asked ! there to lie during the few hours of the night

you shame on me that I did to continue to ! that were yet unspent.
me the shelter of your name and presence, to He had arisen, and was standing at the win-
shield me, a helpless woman, more unhappy dow when Sarah entered in the morning. lint
than guilty, from the ban of the world, and for the dark sh.adows under the eyes, and the
you deny me everything but a contemptible tight-drawn look about the mouth, she appeared
shadow of respectability, which the veriest as usual; and her "Good-morning," if cold,
fool can penetrate. I would not have you sup- was yet polite.
pose that your generous confidence in my in- " I imagine," she said, as the gong clashed
tegrity" she
brought out the words with out its second call, "that you wish me to ac-

scathing contempt " will deter me from sink- company you to bre.akfast, and to preserve my
ing to the level yon are pleased to assign me. ordinary manner towards you when others are
If the native dignity of my womanhood, the by. Am I right?"
principles I inherit from my father, my love for " You are. This is all I ask. The effort will
luy innocent b.abe do not hobl me back from not be a tedious one. I leave here at noon."
ruin, be assured that the hope of winning your Arm iu arm they directed their steps to-
approval will not. To you I make no pledges wards the great dining-hall to the view of the
of reformation I offer but one promise.
; If spectator as comfortable and happy a pair as
you choose remain abroad until I, in spirit,
to any that pursued that route on that summer
kiss your feet, and pray you to receive a love morning. Together they sat down ,nt table,
such as most men are glad to win by assiduity and Mr. Hammond ordered "his lady's" break-
of attention, and every pleasing art which you fast with his own. Mrs. Hunt bustled in
would force into being by wilful and revengeful shortly after they were seated, full of wonder-

absence you will never see your native land ment at having heard from Sarah's maid of
again until the grass grows upon my grave I" her master's unexpected arrival while Jeannie ;

She paused for breath, and continued more gave his hand a squeeze as hearty as was the
slowly. " While your child lives, and I remain welcome in her smiling face. The Bensons
her guardian, I will use your means for her were always late. So much the better. There

maintenance will reside in your house. If were more people present to observe the cordial
she dies, or you take her from me, I will not meeting between the brothers-in-law, ni.ade the
owe you my support for a single day more !" more conapicnons by Philip's surprise. The
Lewis grew pallid to his lips but he, too, ; genuineness of his good spirits, his easy, un-
was proud, and his stubborn will was called embarrassed manner was the best veil that
into bold exercise. could have been devised for Sarah's constraint
" Very well I It is in your choice to accede and Lewis's counterfeit composure.
to my propositions, or not. A share in all that It did not escape Philip's eye that Sarah ate
I have is yours not only during the child's
; nothing, and spoke only to avoid the appear-
life, but as long as yon live. Before I leave ance of singularity, and he believed that he
America, I shall deposit for you in your f.ather's had discovered the origin of her trouble when
bank a sum, which, I hope, you will find suffi- Lewis communicated his purpose of foreign
cient to maintain you in comfort. Y'our father tr-avel. When the burst of surprise subsided,
will be my executorin this matter. I shall not the latter tried successfully to represent his
confide to him the peculiar circumstances of plan as a business necessity. Lucy, who never
my departure, leaving you at liberty to act in saw an inch beyond her nose morally and
u godey's lady's book and magazine.

mentally speakiug except when her intuitions dismissing the woman

with a word, he took
were quickened by self-love, was the questioner his darling into his arms, and sat down behind
most to be dreaded. his wife. Inflexibly sullen, Sarah tried not to
" Why don't you go with him ?" she inquired listen, as she would not see them but she ;

of her sister. " He should not stir one step heard every sound the child's soft coo of
:

without me, if I were iu your place. Only satisfaction as she nestled iu the father's
think you might spend six months iu Paris !"
! bosom the many kisses he imprinted upon her
;

'
' How would Baby Belle relish a sea voyage I pure face and mouth what agony Sarah well
returned Sarah. knew the irregular respiration, sometimes
" Nousense How supremely silly
! One I repressed, until its breaking forth was like
would suppose that she was the only member sobs ; and the proud, miserable heart confessed
of the family whose comfort was to be consulted. reluctantly that, in one respect, his share of
Rather than expose her to the possibility of their divided lotwas heavier than hers. She
inconvenience, you will deprive yourself of was not to witness his final resignation of his
profit and pleasure, and he separated from idol. Under color of summoning Mary, he
your husband for nobody knows how long. carried the infant from the room, and came
This shows how much these model married back without her.
people really care for one another. When put " It is time for me to go now, Sarah !"
to the test they are no better than we poor His voice was calm, and its firmness destroyed
sinners, whom everybody calls flirts. Phil, what slender encouragement she might have
are those muffins warm ? This one of mine has drawn from the scene with his child, to hope
grown cold while was talking."
I for some modification of his resolution.
"How are the horses, Benson?" inquired " Will you write to me, at regular intervals,
Lewis. " Have they been exercised regularly?" to give me news of Belle ?"
" Yes, and are in capital order. You could " Certainly, if such is your wish."
have left us no more acceptable reminder of "And yourself? you will be careful of your
yourself than those same line bays." health, will you not ? And, if I can ever serve
" If you have no other engagement, suppose you in any way, yon will let me know ?"
we have them up before the light carriage after " It is not likely that you can thank yon." ;

breakfast, and take a short drive." There was a silence of some moments. Sarah
"Agreed, with all my heart unless Mrs. I stood playing with the tassel of her morning-
Hammond quarrels with me for robbing her of robe, pale and composed.
a portion of your last morning with her." " Sarah 1" Lewis took her hand. "We have
"She will forgive you !" Lewis rejoined, to both been hasty, both violent Unfeeling as !

spare her the effort of reply. you think me, and as I may have seemed iu
From her window Sarah saw them whirl this aflTair, believe me that it almost kills me
offalong the beach iu sight of the hundreds of to part from you so coldly. It is not like me to
spectators on the sands and about the hotels, retract a determination, butif you will say now

and recognized the ingenuity of this scheme

for proclaiming the amicable feeling
the two.
" But one more scene, and the hateful mock-
ery is over!" thought the wife, as she heard
her husband's step outside the door on his
return.
what you did last night 'Do not go !' I will
between stay and be as good a husband to you as I can.
Shall we not forgive, and try to forget?"
The demon of resentful pride was not so
easily exorcised. At a breath of repentance
a suggestion of compromise, the fell legion
an impregnable phalanx. She was frozen,
r.allied

She snatched a paper from the table, and relentless her eyes, black and haughty, met
;

seemed absorbed in its contents, not looking up his with an answer her tongue could not have
at his entrance. Lewis made several turns framed in words. ,

through the room, sighed heavily, and once

paused, as if about to address her, but changed
" I have nothing to say I"
" Nothing !' The ocean must then separatS
'
^
his mind.
us for years it may be forever !"
Then sounded from without the fresh, gur- " It was your choice. I will not reverse it."
gling laugh of a child, and the nurse came in " Not if you knew that if you let me go I

with the b.iby rosy and bright from her would never return ?"
morning walk on the shore. She almost sprang "Not if I knew that you would never re-
from Mary's hold at sight of her father, and turn !"
 THE COMEDY OF AX EVENING. 65

Without aiiothur word, without a farewell of her ill-directed life and aOections the victim ;

look, or the h.ind-grasp mere strangers ex- of a worldly mother and a backbiting tongue I
chauge, he left her there the stouy luuuuiiient (CoQclusiOQ next muath.)

THE COMEDY OF AN EVENINa.

IT UARIAN DOCGLAS

Dramatis Personce. pear perfectly calm, and I assure you it is en-

tirely unnecessary.
Mr. Lf.rot. a mliMle-ayed cienthmnn of fortune.
Dr. Samfsos, brother-in-law to Mk. Luuuv, and Mrs. Medford. Just think of it, Harvey I

liviiitf in his ftimihf. Your mornings are all dogs and horses, your
Dr. Hemminoway. /riVnrf (o Dr. Sampson. afternoons all smoke and billiards, your eve-
Mr. Harvby Lawrence, cousin of Hks. Medford.
nings all waltzes and wine.
Mrs. Medforp.
Miss Therf.sa Lekov, Mr. Lawrence. How unjust All yesterday I

^
Miss Emily Leroy. y- Jaui/htcrs of Mr. Lerot. I devoted to your charming self; and, to-night,
Miss LuzETTA Leeoy, ) intend to spend the evening with the three
I

Miss Leroys, when I certainly shall not waltz,

Scene Mrs. MEriFORD's sitting-room. Mrs.
I.
and wine is highly improbable.
Medford and Mr. Harvey Lawrence.
^frs. Medford. The Miss Leroys For once, !

3/rs. Medford. Thirty-five, and not engaged !

Fortune favors me If you ever intend to re-
!

What keeps you, Harvey, from marrying ? linquish your obduracy, you will never have a
You are handsome, wealthy, and attractive. better opportunily than the present. They
J/i-. Ltiwreuce {ironical I ij). You are no flat- are, at once, fascinating and intelligent. They
terer, Mrs. Medford, ah ? sing like sj'rens.
Mrs. Med/urd. No, I am no flatterer. I only Mr. Lawrence. And are as amiable as angels,
say what you already believe to be true. A and as beautiful as Peris the only trouble
bachelor's life is, at best, a heartless life. being, there are too many of them. I 'm not

J[r. Lamrence. And what do

I want of a prepared to take three at once ; and, besides,
heart, pray? have aches enough al-
Don't I I am not sure you would better my morals by
ready ? My heart throbbed all iast week, and making me turn Mormon.
my teeth have troubled me for a fortnight. Mrs. Medford. But I ara in eaniest, Il.arvey.
You, no doubt, would be pleased to see me They are, really, girls, and so
very uiieonmion
pouring out tears, and reciting verses, like a different from each other that you have the
lover in the Arabian Nights ; but, really, unless widest liberty of choice. Do you know them,
I can meet with your counterpart already ?

Mrs. Medford. Either talk seusibly, Harvey, Mr. Lawrence. Very slightly. I have met
or give up talking entirely. them at parties, and admire them all. They
Mr. Laurence. And leave all the time to you, are, as yon say, very unlike each other.
Mrs. Medford, in which to deliver your homi- Mrs. Medford. Theresa now ; she is exactly
lies on marriage. Were all husbands as happy the person I would wish you to marry. She
as Mr. Medford, I might change my
views on converses with the dignity of a queen, and
the subject ; as it is, St. Paul, Hannah More, would preside at your table
and myself, form an excellent trio in favor of Mr. Lawrence. Dyes! I shall certainly marry
celibacy. Theresa. But Emily what of her?
Mrs. Medford. Hannah More herself came Mrs. Medford. Oh, slie is as amiable as the
within an ace of marrying and if you were
;
day is long. She doesn't read much, it is true ;

more like St. Paul, I should have less objec- but you have a horror of learned ladies, and
tions to your remaining single. But, placed perhaps you will prefer her to Theresa but, ;

as you are, you are leading a heartless, selfish, for my part

dangerous life (Afr. Lawrence smiles) for it ; Mr. I^tcrence. delightful ! I admire one
itdangerous, Harvey. If yon were poor, it of these waxy women, that will take your
would be different but with wealth enough,
;
stamp, whatever it is. As for the youngest
and time enough, and Satan to find work for one ?
your idle hands I tremble for you, Harvey ! Mrs. Medford. Lnzette, Tou mean. She is a
Mr. LMwrence. I can't perceive it. You ap- bright little butterfly, pretty and pleasant
66 godey's lady's book and magazine.

enough but then I hadn't thought of her.

; It will be a difficult and somewhat painful
Theresa seems to me more fitted tlian either of operation, though, of course, I shall use chlo-
the others to render you happy. I hope roform. (He holds up a bottle.)
Senmnt (at the door). Mrs. Pendleton is in Dr. He7nmin(prai/. That chloroform? I thought
the parlor. it was a cologne bottle when I saw it in your
Mrs. Medford. Don't forget my injunctions, hands. By the way, have you read Jessup's
Harvey ; I am really in earnest. Essay on the Uses and Abuses of Chloroform f
Mr. Lawrence. You must give me leave to Dr. Sampson. Yes and the answer to it.
;

cast lots, Jlrs. Medford. Dr. Hemmingway. Answer? I hav'n't seen

l^Exk Mrs. Medfokd. it. My four boys must be my excuse but you ;

Mr. Lawrence (solus). It is as she says. I have all your spare moments unless, indeed, ;

am leadiug a heartless, selfish, dangerous life. they are given to your nieces, who are, I hear,
I am sick of it ! tired to death of cigars and the belles of the town, and the sweetest singers
billiards, and balls and parties, and dancing in the county.
and flirtations Bah those girls at Saratoga
! 1 I Dr. Sampson. My nieces ! Pshaw ! They are
I want to do something serious and sensible I ;
pleasant enough in their way, but they are no
wish I were anything a student of theology society for a man of science.
a missionary to the Tulus anything but what Dr. Hemmingway. You are censorious. I have
I am a poor, miserable, pleasure-seeking fool heard them all well spoken of
but Theresa, ;

I have half a mind to follow her directions and especially, I have always regarded as a young
marry Theresa Leroy. It, at least, would be lady of superior mind.
what people call a sensible proceeding she ; Dr. Sampson. I never intimated that she had
has property, she has family, she has intellect, no mind. I said she had no science, and she
she has good looks she has also two sisters,
; has none. Her desire for knowledge is limited
possessing equal advantages with herself. One by the acquirements of those around her. If
of the family must certainly furnish the future her companions knew nothing but their letters,
Mrs. Lawrence. Adieu
and billiards to hotels ! she would never get beyond the abs in the
I mean and a better life. It
to live a nobler spelling-book. She was the best scholar in the
will certainly be easier to do right with some school she attended. She desired to excel, and
good angel to point out the way. she excelled. She is now in society she is ;

ambitious to please, and she pleases.

Scene II. Mk. Lf.rot's parlor. Db. Hem- Dr. Ilemtniifgiray. A little artful, perhaps ?
SIISGWAY seated. It seems to be the special temptation of young
ladies.
Enter Dk. Sampsos.
Dr. Sampson. A little artful ? I am positively
Dr. Sampson. What ? Hemmingway ? You afraid of her. She
checker-man that
is like a
are a sight to do my eyes good. I 've been has been in the king-row she can move both ;

down your otEce every day, for a fortnight,

to ways and jump on either side. She is, how-
and always found the door shut. How is Miss ever, I suppose, a good girl, and I am very

What-'s-her-uame the case of fits 1 Does the much attached to her I am to all my nieces.
;

medicine suit her? Dr. Hemmingway. And Emily does she re- ;

Dr. Jiemmmgwai/. I can scarcely say. She semble her ?

had a spasm yesterday, though not so violent Dr. Sampson. Emily ? Ko ; she is one of the
as the day before. yielding sort, and takes her form, like a jelly,
Dr. Sampson. What a splendid opportunity from the mould she is put in. She has not
for your investigation I quite envy you to ! strength enough to oppose ; she would yield
have her among your patients. You seem to alike to Satan or an angel.
have all the remarkable cases. Are you going Dr. Hemmingway. And Lnzetta ?

to amputate young Nicholson's leg? Dr. Sampson. Oh, Letta? Bless her little

Dr. Hemmingway. We are hoping to avoid an heart She is the sunshine of the house
I She I

operation. we are compelled to use the

If is truthful, and good-tempered, and conscien-
knife, you must certainly be present. tious but she has about as much science as a
;

Dr. Sampson. I am expecting, to-morrow, to kitten, and is as noisy as a Guine.vhen. I

remove the tumor, of which I told you, from spent all one evening explaining to her the
the neck of an old laiVy sixty-nine years old. circulation of the blood, and the next morning
Let me call for you, m.ay I, at nine o'clock ? she had forgotten it aU, and refused to hear it
Most of the frate;uity at our end will be there. over.
 ;

THE COMEDY OF AN EVENING. 67

Dr. Hemmintjtcay. Poor fellow what man ! better for it. He enjoys a gay girl, I have no
ever euduruJ sucL atflictions 1 But I must uot doubt. You must talk to-night, for I feel as
dela>- I have stayed too loug already.
;
Cau though 1 could scarcely say a word. There is
you not call nith tiie now ou Miss Clark, the no danger of being too lively. Say what yon
young lady who has spasms f like, and enjoy it.

Dr. Sampson. Certainly, there is nothing to Emily {languidly seating herself). What is that
detain me, but this bottle of chloroform. I was bottle on the table f never saw it before.
I

intending to take it up to the office, but as you Theresa. It is a cologne-bottle I should think.
are in haste, I will leave it here. a neat
It is Do you wish for some ? {She passes the bottle

looking bottle, and the girls, silly butterflies, towards Emily.)

never meddle with luiythiug pertaiuiug to Luzetta {who is standing by her and takes the
science. bottle). Here; give a penknife
it tome. I 've
in my (She tries
pocket to take out the cork.
Scene III. Mr.s. 1,bot's pmlor. MissThebesa to remove the cori:) I never saw a cork in so
seattd in fall dress hi/ the table.
tightly. {She tries again.) Oh, here it comes.
Miss Theresa (_soto). Three of us, and all at Do you want some, Emily ? {She talcs out her
home ; it is so provoking ! Two young ladies own handkerchief and perfumes it.) If you do,
at once in a family, are only just pa-ssable ; hand me your handkerchief. I 've drenched
but three is beyond all endurance. In such a mine. ( They hand their handkerchiefs, which
family, a tcte-d-tete is quite out of the question, she moistens from the bottle.) Here, Emily, let

and a flirtation is simply impossible. Among me pour some on your hair. {She pours some
so many sisters, one attracts no more attention on Emily's hair.) And Theresa, I will anoint
than a single blossom of a compound flower. you with oil. {She pours some on TJieresa's hair.)
You are never viewed individually but collect- Theresa {pettishly). I wish, Lnzetta, you
ively. I always get my invitations in this would b^ quiet. You are wetting my collar,
way " Please come. Miss Theresa, or send one
: and spilling it on my neck. If you want the
of your sisters." I am always known by the cologne, use it yourself; and besides, I never
town's people as " one of the Leroys." And, saw any perfumery like it it is very strange ;

to-night, instead of having a clear field, in and unpleasant.

which cise I should feel sure of a conquest, I Luzetta. Well it is not much like cologne I
;

mast meet Mr. Lawrence in company with my must confess. I hope Bridget hears the bell
two rival sisters. But Emily and Luzetta can- it must be he. I didn't mean to vex yon,

not have equal chances with myself. I can play Theresa. {Aside). dear I wish I hadn't I

a better game than both of them together and ; touched that bottle I never saw anything like
;

I shall do it. Emily I will throw into the back- it before, and hope I never shall again. (Shetti
ground. Luzetta is too talkative by far, when smells of her handlcercfiief and places the bottle on
she is excited. I will humor her bent ; she a mantle in another part of the room.) ,

shall appear like a noisy child ; I will be dig- Emily. It is a gentleman's step in the entry.
nified, yet aflfable ; but above all things I will It must be he.
be observant. Theresa. Don't talk so lond.

Enter Emilt and LrzETTA. Enter Mr. Lawkexce.

Emily. Theresa, how do I lock ? Mr. Lawrence. Good evening. Miss Leroy.
Theresa. Very
were yoa I would
nicely. If I {He shales hands with Theresa.) Good evening,
have worn that corn-colored bow. Miss Emily {he shales hands) and Miss Lu- ;

Luzetta. That bow ? It makes her look like zetta {shales hands).
a fright. Do / look well I I 've spent time Theresa. We are happy to meet you again.
enough I hope I do. I can't help it, Theresa
; ; Pray, be seated.
you always seem so calm, and dewy, and in- Mr. Lawrence. And I to renew the acquaint-
different, as if it made no ditference whether ances I formed at Miss Gibson's party. I re-

you plea.sed or not but I never can be satis-

; member your repartee. Miss Lirzetta and the ;

fiedwithout I know that people are pleased sprig of honeysuckle you pave me. Miss Leroy,
with me, and I with them. Should you care I shall keep among my treasures. (Miss The-
because you talked so much when I met Mr. resa bows.) Have you been well since we last
Lawrence before at the Gibson party ? I can't met ? all of yon ?
help it I 've been troubled about it ever since.
; Luzetta (rather drowsily). Quite well thank
Tlitresa. Nonsense He liked you all the I yoa ;
quite well thank you.
68 godky's lady's book and magazine.

Mr. Lawrence. I am happy to hear it. Mrs. awaken. Have I gone really mad ? Is not
Medford was speaking of you this afternoon, this the vision of a distempered brain ? It is

and said yoii had been devoting yourselves to too terrible too terrible a thought I (He walks
music of late. It is a divine accomplishment I back and forth.)
One can enjoy it either in society or in soli- Theresa sjieaks. One thing is certain. If I
tude. It seems to me an art,
far superior, as cannot succeed in winning Mr. Lawrence,
to painting does it not to you. Miss Leroy ?
; neither of my sisters ever shall. That thing is

Theresa (rery drowsily). It is very pretty certain that thing is certain that thing is

thank you sir very pretty indeed. certain.
Mr. Lawrence. Mrs. Medford assures roe I Mr. Lawrence. It is past comprehension.
must imitate Ulysses hut I prefer to try and
;
Surely, they cannot be subject to such turns.
make friends with the syrens than to seek to Luzetta, there, I like the hest ; she 's laughing
avoid them. (^Daring these remarks, the young in her sleep.
ladies are becoming more and more unconscious, Luzetta speaks. I want to please him of course,
and are now lost to all around them.) hut I won't try ; I hate trying. He shall either
Mr. Lawrence. I hope I shall be able to prac- lilce me for what I am, or lie sha'u't like me at

tise now and then with you, before I leave. I all. I won't be a hypocrite.
play a little upon the flute very little to be 3Ir. Lawrence. That 's right, Luzetta. I 'U
sure, hut I am passionately fond of it. Are remember that when I come to choose tlie
there many singers in the place. Miss Luzetta ? future Mrs. Lawrence. But, really, I must do

{Mr. Lawrence, who has been obsen'ing them be- something to get away from thisabsurd situa-
fore, here perceives that they are all apparently tion. Perhaps, however, I am mad, and yet
asleep. He supposes it to be a joke.) I appre- my head seems clear. If I am mad, I may as
ciate the wit of your idea, young ladies ; and, well do one thing as another. (He seizes Miss
though I am the subject of your jest, I can Theresa, and begins to shake her with consideruble

enjoy it with you provided, of course, it is force.)W^ake, wake, for mercy's sake wake! !

not continued too long. {He waits a moment.) wake ( While he is thus engaged, Mk. Leroy
I

Ah, you are unrelenting I shall be obliged to!

rushes in.)

wait for your returning smiles, and solace my- Mr. Leroy (very angrily). Sir, what does this

self with books. What have you here f (He mean ? I demand an explanation. Is this the
on the table.)
tal-es lip the hools Godey's Lady's part of a gentleman to startle ns with the cries
Book, Great Expectations, Bryant's Poems. of a madman f

(He opens the latter, and turns over the leaves.) Mr. Lawrence (pointing around him). My only
Oh, here we have something to the point 1
explanation, sir, is the state of these young
^{He reads aloud.) ladies. I. found them
"If slumber, eweet Lisena, Mr. Leroy. Found them ? You Found
villain !

Hath stolen o'er thine eyes, them ? Out, out of my you can
house, before
As night steals o'er the plory tell what infernal arts you have practised upon
Of Spring's transparent skies;
them,
Wake, in thy scorn and beauty,
Mr. Lawrence. But certainly, Mr. Leroy, I
And listen to the strain
That murmurs my devotioo, am as unable as yourself to account for their
And mourns for thy disdain." situation.
(He pauses and looks around him.) Mr. Leroy. My daughters are not idiots. Ont
Indeed, Miss Luzetta, since you so obdu- I find of my house out of my house and thank
I !

rate, I must take my own way of awaking you. Heaven that I have not a pistol with me. To
(He rises, and talcing the hand of Luzetta, who is have done this injury you must have been a
next him, presses it to his lips, when he perceives fiend, and not a man.
that her stupor is unaffected. ) Can it be possible Mr. Lawrence. But, sir
that you really are asleep ? I must entreat Mr. Leroy. Leave my house.
yon, young ladies, if you are in jest, to please,

for my sake, discontinue it. It hears too much

the semblance of reality. (He takes the lamp Scene IV. Mr. Leroy's library. Misses The-
and holds it close to the faces o/" Emily and The- resa and Luzetta seated in rocking-chairs, par-
tially recovered, but looking very ucary. Mk.
BESA. He puts down the lamp.) Where am I ? Leroy walking up and down the jioor.
Tell me, are you awake, or is it I who sleep ?
It seems as if I were wandering around in a Mr. Leroy. I wish (he clutches his hands) I

strange dream, from which it is impossible to wish

 ! !

THE COMEDY OF AN EVEXING. 69

Enter Oft. Sampsoh. of your truthful face has kept me back from
Dr. Sampson {hurriedli/). What, yoQ sick? many a sin, and tliat, to-d,\v, Iam a nobler
Not much, I hope, for I can't possibly stay. and, I trust, a better man, for having known
Hemmingway took me offwith him to see one aud loved you ?

of his patients ; fits remarkable fits. But I Luzetta {with mock graviti/). No, I did not re-
can't stop a moment ; I only came in to ask alize it. I had no idea my goodness was so
about a bottle, that I left upon the parlor table. remarkable.
Mr. Leroy. What kind of a bottle ? Mr. Laurence {affecting a frown). You pro-
Dr. Sampson. A bottle of chloroform. voking image You are, I believe, only charm-
I

Luzetia {starting up). Theresa, Thpresa, the ingwhen you are unconscious of your charms.
mystery is expLiined. That bottle of cologne Did you know that I might never have loved
Theresa. Was a bottle of chloroform. What you had I uot seen you fast asleep on the
Lawrence think of us ? What will Mr.
will Mr. night of my memorable call ?Through the
Lawrence say? What lunatics we must have dull haze of that chloroform stupor, I saw your

seemed {She coeers her/ace with her handker-

I
soul gleam out like a star from a cloud, aud
chief.) you have been dear to me ever since.
Dr. Sampson (impatientli/). What was it ? Luzetta. What a wonderful call
What is it ? Mr. I^atcrence. Yes; the idea of drawing one's
Luzelta. I can't help it. It was a splendid happiness from absurdity of finding the elixir ;

joke. of life in a chloroform bottle I

ScekbV. Mr. LEROT'.s/inr/or. Mr. Lawrence

sdilid in an
reciting to himself.
easi/ chair, singing, or, if preferred, Infants.
This is a hard world for babies,
We have had experience enough of the dear
Mr. Lawrence. little creatures to feel keenly the hardships of

their state, and to rejoice greatly in anything

"I have placed a golden
RiDi; npoD the h.iud, that promises to make it easier for them, or
Of the sweetest little that may help iu any measure to carry their
L^idT in the land. tender and precious life safe through the perils
*'When the royal roses which threaten it. For what were this world,
SceDt the suiomer air, what could it be, to us, without the purity, the
I shall 1,'ather white unea innocence, the frolicsome happiness, the moral
For my darling's hair.
sunshine of little children ? They are indeed
*Hasta, happy roses. the very best fragrance that has survived the
Come to me hy 3ray ;
wrecks of Paradise. And we can but pity the
In your folded petals
man who does not so regard them nay, we
Lies my wedding-day I"
;

more than nJty him we fear him too, even as

;

Enter Luzetta, who steals up behind him and lays

we would ^
her hand upon his forehead. The man that hath no mnsic in himself,
Mor is not mov'd by concoid of sweet sonad.
Luzetia. Harvey !

Mr. Lawrence. My better angel

Luzflta. Positive good, conipnrative better,
superlative best. I only possess the second ACROSTIC TO MRS.
degree of excellence. BT LEWIS TOKSON VOIQT.
Mr. Laurence. Von desire promotion ? my
As some cool fonut, amid the desert sands.
best, best angel Then do yon know how mnch
!
Makes a green Eden in its crystal pUy ;

you have done for me ? And fills with rapture the faint pilgrim bands
Luzetta. Certainly. I made your lonnging- Noon's torrid heats have parch'd so o'er our way. ;

cap and two pairs of slippers. Do thy sweet charms, fair lady, winsome throw,
Mr. Lawrence. But seriously. A spell enchanting as that streamlet's flow.

Luzetta. I did not speak of the watch-case, Brightly may gentle thoughts and deeds of love
and of the red pin-flat. Enwreath, like fragrant flowers, thy path beside;
And home-born joys around thee sweetly prove
Mr. Lakvrence. But truly, Luzetta, do yoti
That still on earth an Eden may abide.
realize how often your shadow has come be- Enshrined within the heart; as that glad stream
tween me and temptation ? how the memory Smiles with the rainbow blooms which o'er it gleam.
 HYACINTH COTTAGE.
iX MAKT W. JANVKIN.
" Arthfr !" in a calm voice. " Let ns talk this matter over
" Well, Maria ?" dispassionately. We will set aside the question
" You hav'n't said a word about wliat we of our neighbors, who should be no guides for
talked of last evening." us in our domestic aliairs. I always thought
Tills sentence was spoken a little querulously, itwas a pleasure to you to visit your girlhood
and a shade of dissatisfaction rested on the home at Wheaton, and that you enjoyed your
forehead of the pretty, stylish-looking little summer stay there."
lady who behind the cofffe-urn. Her hus-
sat "And so I do," interrupted the lady, a

band the tall, liandsome man, who had risen, little ashamed of her hastiness, "and of course
and was drawing on his gloves preparatory 1 don't intend to give up my yearly visit home,
to going down town
turned toward her with only I shouldn't stop so long there if we took a
a half-annoyed, half-wearied expression, and house out of town. I could be a fortnight at
dropped into his chair again. The nursery girl the homestead, and then bring sisters Anuie
at that moment appeared, and took away the and Kate back with me to Belmont. And don't
two children, Master Charlie and Miss Katy, you see tliat it would be far better for me to be
who had sliared tlie breakfast of hot rolls and in my own house with the children father is ;

fragrant coffee, and tlie parents were alone. growing old, and they must disturb him."
"You mean about taking the cottage out of " I thought your father was never weary of
town this summer, I suppose, Mrs. Woodner?" Charlie and Kate," said Mr. Woodner, iu an
He always said " Mrs. Woodner" when dis- astonished tone.
pleased or grave. "Oh, children always disturb old people I"
" Yes," replied the lady, too eager in secur- was the reply.
ing her point to seem to notice his evident Mr. Woodner smiled a little incredulously at
dissatisfaction. " We must take it I I can't her ingenuity in presenting reasons for the
tolerate tlie idea of staying cooped up in town, carrying of her point. Only a year before, she
when everybody is to leave. And it 's such an had anticipated the pleasure the advent of the
opportunity 1 Mrs. Harrison says her husband children would give Grandma and Grandpapa
lias made a purchase of the one adjoining it. French at the old homestead but that was ;

Oh, Artliur, I wish you 'd buy this one !" before a bandof building speculators had erected
"That isn't to be thought of iu these times," a dozen showy "Gothic" cottages, in the
said Mr. Woodner, decidedly. "You ought to much-advertised, much-newspaper-puffed new
knoiv as well as I, income and
that, with my town of Belmont, said cottages being set forth
our expenses, it is impossible for me to keep as " elegant, desirable suburban residences,
up two establishments and, if we even lease
; airy, roomy, with all the modern improvements,
this house at Belmont for the summer, it will and presenting rare inducements for genteel
be a hard drain on ray purse." families going out of town for the summer."
" Why, Mr. Woodner, you talk as though it "And then another reason, and the best of
would ruin us!" said the lady, with a little all!" continued Mrs. Woodner. " You know
red spot on each cheek. " I 'm sure your busi- that when I have been at father's, you always
ness is as profitable as Mr. Harrison's, every- liad to sleep in town, and was lonesome but ;

body says and we never have lived half so

; now you can come out every night. Mr. Har-
extravagantly. Her wardrobe is far more ex- rison is going to !" and she clinched the sen-
pensive than mine, and they have been to the tenoe triumphantly.
seaside every summer since they were married, " Twenty miles out, and twenty in and I

besides that trip to the Mountains last season. don't love the steam cars well enough to spend
If we cannot take the cottage, say so at once nearly two hours every day in them," said
and I '11 go poking off into the country, and Mr. Woodner. " Harrison must find greater
bury myself at Wheaton !" And the little comfort in the puff of a locomotive than I

lady grew decidedly unpleasant-looking as the do."

crimson spread from cheeks to brow. " Why, they 're all coming out every night
" Maria, listeu a minute," said Mr. Woodner not only Mr. Harrison, but Mr. Davenport and
70
 HYACIXTn COTTAGE. 71

Mr. Blake, and others. You wouldn't be alone, W8 shall Deed, only a few, yon know ;
you '11

Arthur!" let me get those, won't you, Arthur ?"

" Miser/ loves company to lie sure !" ho " Certainly, anything reasonable ; only re-
replied, sbruggiug hia shoulders at her sugges- member, Maria, that we shan't require our
tion. menage very elaborately furnished for three
" What bugbears you do conjure up, Arthur I" mouths," w.a3 the answer. "And don't g>t
exclaimed Mrs. Woodner, testily. " How many what we can dispense with."
times I 've heard you say you 'd give anything " Oh, Mrs. Harrison will tell me just what I
for a little rural home of your own, after the want I will send Bridget right in to ask if
!

day's bustle iu the city I" she can go down town with me this very day.
" And so I should, Maria, if it were realli/ a It 's best to commence early."
home," he replied. " But a man may sigh for "Better trust to your own good sense, and
wh.it is neither expedient nor practicable. We go alone!" said Mr. Woodner, quite vexed at
are comfortable here the house is large, high,
; this lady's influence over his wife.
and and on a good street and so long as I
airy, ; "Why, how you do dislike Mrs. Harrison,
am in business we must make our home in the Arthur! You are so prejudiced I'm sure I

city. If I ever am rich enough to retire, then her husband always admires to have me accom-
we will own a house in some fine old country pany her ont shopping 1"
town, where we may have society, and build " I suppose because he is in hopes you some-
np new interests around us. We cannot serve times prove a check upon her extravagance

two masters nor keep up two houses," he and thoughtlessness," was Mr. Woodner's com-
added. ment.
Mrs. Woodner's face fell. Tliis sentence " I 'm snre I don't think her extravagant.
seemed to dash to earth the darling project People ought to live np to the times if they
of her heart. " Then I am to be disappointed, cau afford to, and they can, if anybody. But
I suppose !" she said in a voice that quivered I shall be very economical about furnishing the

a little. cottage, I assure you, Arthur. I shall send

But, talk as he might, Mr.
only been making a decision. Although he
doubted the wisdom of the step his wife was
so intent upou taking, he had determined to
permit her to pi^ceed. He was neither an
unkind nor captious husband.
" Maria, I am not going to disappoint you,"
Woodner had out everything available from here, as I said ;
only getting a few light things that we can't
do without such as straw mattings, for you
know we shouldn't want to take out our heavy
Brussels carpets, one or two of those pretty
garden chairs, and a bamboo lounge for the
piazza and, oh, Arthur why can't you hire
!

he said. " We will take this cottage for the a good cottage piano, for ours is too large to be
summer ; tease it, for as I said, I am not able moved easily, and you will enjoy music so
to buy; and, if I were, I don't think any of after coming from the noisy, dusty city."
these cheap-built affairs would suit me. So Mr. Woodner smiled. A vision of the daily
you may make your arrangements as soon as twenty miles ride by steam cars rose before him,
you like. Yon can probably send out some of leaving little leisure for anything afterward.'?
the furniture from here, enough to make us but rest and sleep but he only replied
; "I'll :

comfortable it would be needless to furnish it

; see But I must be at the store, it is late I"
I

new for one season." And, after the customary parting kiss, he again
"Oh, that's a kind, good Arthur!" ex- drew on his gloves, took his hat, and left the
claimed the little wife, now all smiles and sun- house for down town.
shine, springing to his side and hastily bestow- After Mr. Woodner emerged from liis dwell-
ing a shower of kisses on his cheeks. " I knew ing and gained the brick pare, a shade of de-
you would have the cottage
let me I told I pression deepened over his face, aud his eye
Mrs. Harrison u-e ought to afford it as well as grew moody. Many thouiihts were at work iu
thei/. You 're a dear, good soul, if you do get his brain.
such queer notions into your head sometimes "It isn't the expense of this house for the
about living within our income and economy I summer," he mentally murmured, ''but it's
And now I shall go to work with a will to get Maria's growing love of display and restlessness
away from this horrid, dusty old Boston And ! never satisfied, ne vercaleulating in her expen-
of course I shall be very economical, and send ditures that troubles me; aud that woman's
out lots of things from here mattresses, crock- influence over her." (By "that woman," he
ery, aud furniture. But there 'U be some things meant Mrs. Harrison.) " How changed she i3
72 godey's lady's book and magazine.

since the early years of our marriage 1 Then, and pleased with the thought of the agreeable
our house here was the height of her desires ; duties before them.
DOW, though I refurnished last year, by another
I suppose there 'U be more new things, to keep The last of June came and the Woodners
;

up with the times. Then, two or three months were fairly established at " Hyacinth Cottage,
of the hot weather at the pleasant old country- for so the rural home at Belmont had been
house at home was enjoyment now, it 's one ; christened, patterning after Mrs. Harrison, who
of these sham-built martin's nests Slab & had bestowed upon her own summer retreat
Lathe have put up, with Gothic' fixings round '
the poetical cognomen of "Lilac Hill," from
tlieroof and portico. I '11 wager that the first the fact that several young specimens of that
July thunder-shower will make a sieve of it rare (?) shrub had been disposed along the
But Mrs. Harrison takes a cottage at Belmont,'
' gradually ascending avenue that led to the
itsounds well and so Maria must. Well, I '11
; house.
leave her have her bent' this time see if she '
; From the last week in May, when Mr. Wood-
don't see the folly of it 1" ner had taken the lease of the cottage, and his
Mr. Woodner walked the length of a block busy wife had commenced her "arrangements,"
after closing up his mental argument with this there had been no quiet in the formerly well-
peroration ; then, turning the corner of the kept, orderly city home on H
Street. As
street thatbrought him into one of the city's the first programme, Mrs. Woodner
act in the

great thoroughfares, he held up his hand as had dispatched Charlie and Katy, with the nur-
the customary signal to the horse-car that now sery-maid, to the Wheaton farm-house, quite
came in sight. The harsh tinkle of its cease- forgetful of the fact that " old people are alwai/s

less bell did not disturb the tenor of his brain disturbed by children," sending word to her
wanderings ; he stepped from the side-
for, as young sisters to hold themselves in readiness

walk to take his seat in the vehicle, he set out to spend half the summer with her at Belmont
anew in this wise :
" after she was settled ;" then followed such a

" dismantling of chambers, sitting-room, dining-

I suppose they
bamboo-lounge' hunt-'11 be '

room, and closets, that the husband who re-

ing all day together wish I 'd limited Maria;
! I
turned at evening from the store found a literal
that woman '11 lead her into every conceivable
reign of "chaos and old night ;" and one day
piece of extravagance and folly 1"
imparted to his wife his decision to "go to
His train of meditation was here again inter- Parker's till affairs were regulated."
rupted by the dissonant tintinabulation of the "And I didn't oppose Arthur one bit," said
car-bell and then, with the passenger who
;
Mrs. Woodner to her confidential friend, Mrs.
entered next, came the stereotyped barefooted,
Harrison. "It is such a trouble to get up
ragged, old-faced, small newsboy, who, a mo-
dinners now, when we want half the crockery
ment before, had been exercising his little
packed to take out to Belmont, that I did feel
lungs along the pave, by informing all within
relieved when he proposed it. I wouldn't have
sound of his shrill voice that the damp sheet believed that I should have so much to do If I

on Ms arm contained "the latest strategies of

I could have done just as I pleased, I 'd have
General M'Clellan, and news from the Army had the cottage entirely new furnished, and not
of the Potomac."
sent out a thing; but Arthur never 'd have
A moment more, and two bright nickel cents consented to that and, as it is, I don't know
;

had found their w.iy to the newsboy's dingy but he '11 think I 've been rather extravagant.
palm and ourdown town merchant was plunged
; Dear me you 've no idea how he talks 'eco-
1

deep into the "Latest by Telegrapli" of the nomy' and war times !' What a relief it must
'

morning journal, forgetful, for the time being, be not to hear that word economy' for a month
'
!

of rural cottages, breakfast conversation, or Yotir liusband doesn't preach like Arthur, I do
his little wife's ambitious plans. believe, Mrs. Harrison !"
Meantime, that little lady had received, via "Oh, la, my dear, there's nothing like get-
Bridget, her neighbor's message that " Mrs. ting used to it ! Harrison, if you will believe
Harrison would indade be plazed to go out with it, actually said he couldn't afibrd a single
Mrs. Woodner." And, after bestowing a hasty additional item of expense this year, and talked
visit to Master Charlie and little Katy, she left of 'retrenchment' instead; but I was deter-
the nursery to expedite her toilet for the day's mined to carry my
and wouldn't listen
point,
shopping. An hour and a half later saw the to 'a lease,' but made him hni/ the house at
two ladies seated in the horse-oar, animated
Belmont. These men it 's a habit they have
 HYACINTH COTTAGE. n
uf denring ns any little thing we may ask, I paved walk bordered by box which he had
tell U.trrisou it 's as natural for liim to say " ordered, " at so much per foot, from a nursery.
'
Can't afford it' to me as 'tis to eat liis break- Mrs. Woodner was awaiting her husband on
fast ; but I 'm pretty well used to it liow ; and the piazza and she made a pretty picture
;

so I made liira buy the cottage." tastefully dressed in a flowing, airy muslin,
Mrs. Harrison did not know that the genteel which became her still girlish figure, and
littleplace at Belmont was not, iu reality, her standing under a jessamine trained over the
husband's " possession," since the conditions trellis at the door. Mr. Woodner cast a brief
of the purch.ise were saddled by a " mortgage glance over the cottage, the peaked roof, dor-
back," which nearly covered the property. mer windows, with their abundant Gothic
But her injudicious, unwifely system of '-teaz- adornments of pendent carved wood, the vari-
ing," to "gain her point," had wrought its ous lattices, and the columns that supported
legitimate effect; her husband a kind-hearted, the piazza, then called out " Well, I suppose
but weak-minded man had not the courage to this is 'home' till next October, Maria ?"
stand out against her ; and so acts of folly and " Yes and don't you think it's delightful,
;

extravagance followed upon each other, and Arthur ?" replied his wife, animatedly. Mrs.
they drifted on. Harrison has run over to-day, and says they 'vs
The last day of June came Mrs. Woodner ; got settled nicely, too."
had paid a flying visit of a week to the old "That woman here!" muttered the
Jirst
homestead brought back the children and
; liusband he sank wearily on the
solto voce, as
nurse Ann to Belmont, where she had given light bamboo lounge on the piazza under the
orders for the cook, and Bridget the chamber low parlor window, fanning his heated forehead
girl, to proceed before her and now all was in ; with the brim of his hat.
readiness to receive the paler familias. Mrs.
"But come you are tired, Arthur; and tea
Harrison was established at " Lilac Hill," the is waiting !" said his wife. " The children have
Davenports at " Laburnum Villa," the Blakes
just gone np stairs such a cunning little room
at "Sycamore Lodge," and one or two other as they have You must go up afler tea, and
!

citj* families at their " Country residence," the over the house, " and she led the way to the
"genteel," desirable cottages erected by the dining-room along the hall.
firm of Slab & Lathe, Architects, aforemen- "A country tea ! Plenty of sweet milk,
tioned. This little community at Belmont was strawberries and cream, golden butter, and so
qnite an affair of city neighbors come to their forth, I suppose, Maria?" said Mr. Woodner,
" country seats" for the summer and Mrs. ; entering the apartment which seemed strangely
Harrison and Mrs. Woodner congratulated small and cramped after that of their large and
themselves upon the ' select society" Belmont comfortable city house, and he seated himself
would afford them. at table.
It was day that Mr.
at the close of a pleasant " Well, I'm sorry that we've been quite
Woodner left the Belmont station and walked unfortunate for a few days, Arthur," replied
over to his cottage. It had been intensely hot Mrs. Woodner with some embarrassment. "The
iu town, one of those scorching days when all butter isn't so good as we otujht to have had ;

the he.^ts of summer seem conceutr.ited in the I engaged to take it of a farmer who called,
air and reflected back from the tall brick walls ; but it i.sn't sweet ; and milk, I fear, we shall
and he wore his thinnest linen duster and find it difficult they send it
to get regularly ;

lightest straw hat. into the they say. I always thought

city,
" A full half mile, ifit'sastep, to the house!" everybody could get plenty of everything in the
he soliloquized, as he walked along with a country. I 'm sure I must have milk for the
somewhat lagging pace. " I declare, I did not children !"
think it half so far ! A pretty walk this, every "Tea without uiilk, and rancid butter ! This
night after being all fagged out in town, and is one of the conveniences of being in the
in this new road, too, where the soil shifts like country !" said Mi-. Woodner. " Well, I shall
quicksand under your feet 'Hyacinth Cottage' ! send out a firken of prime butter to-morrow,
is a humbug !" and he trudged along wearily
and hunt up a man who will supply us with
through the shifting, red, sandy soil of "Oak plenty of milk and eggs. Why, what ails the
Avenue," the new road from the depot. biscuits,Maria? Jane never baked the.^e!"
It was qnite sunset when he turned up to and he broke one hard, clammy edible which
Hyacinth Cottage, lifted the latch of the rus- he took fiom the plate before him.
tic wicker-gate, and set foot on the fancifully- " Yes, they are Jane's, but the blame isn't
VOL. ixvii.
74 godet's lady's book and magazine.

liers. It is the range ; it don't draw well or adapted to a house so much smaller so we ;

bake Jane has been scolding about it

at all. purchased these cheap at Veneer & Co's. You
for three days, and says she had rather lose hav'n't had the "bill sent in yet, I suppose. He
her place than her reputation as a cook. She said we should not deface them at all this sum-
ruins everything." mer and, if we didn't want the house another
;

"A defect in the chimney, I suppose, is the season, they 'd sell for almost as much as we
reason it don't draw. The chimneys in these paid at the auction-rooms. But perhaps it is

modern cottages are n't much bigger than a possible we may come here again, you know,
stove-pipe. I '11 have a mason sent out to- Arthur?"
morrow. A glass of ice water, my dear ! I am Mrs. Woodner's tone was a little hurried and
very thirsty to-night." embarrassed as she said this she began to ;

"We have no ice; they don't bring it to realize that she had exceeded her warrant, led
Belmont, but you will fiud the wrter pretty on by Mrs. Harrison. The curtains, tabourets,
'
'

cold, I think," and Mrs. AVooduer filled a gob-

pictures everything else, came from home,
let, which she passed hira. you see, Arthur."
"About the temperature of our Cochituate, "What else did you buy at Veneer's, Mrs.
I should say," he replied after one sip, when Woodner?" asked her husband, as he followed
)ie quickly sat down the glass; " but what a her into the hall and up stairs. His tone was
peculiar taste, Maria !" and he wiped his lips full of displeasure.
with his napkin. "Only a couple of chamber sets. Ours were
" I know it. Disagreeable, I thought ; but too large to put into these smaller rooms, you
Mrs. Harrison says it 's just like the Congress know, husband. We needed these."
really
water at Saratoga Springs, and it 's because it "And the straw m.attiugs throughout the
comes through a ledge or mineral .soil, or
house those are all new ?" he asked. "And
something. We sha'u't taste it when it 's the rustic furniture for the piazza and gar-
been boiled." den ?"
" Possibly But boiling or boiled water is
!
" yes, I forgot that Three garden chairs
!

not very palatable, my dear!" replied Mr. and two bamboo-lounges and then then ;
AVoodner, with a wry face and a queer smile, got a smaller extension-table than ours. That
returning to his milkless tea again. "Mrs. was too large for this dining-room, you 7ust see,
Harrison may drink her Congress water. It Arthur !" And her voice grew a little sharp
isn't quite to my taste." through its embarrassment, as though she was
Woodner took
After the tea was over, Mrs. determined not to acknowledge her folly in her
a kerosene lamp and preceded her liusbaud "bargains."
"over the house." First, they visited the Mr. Woodner made no reply. He was dis-
parlors, two small square rooms, communi- pleased that she had not consulted him. " That
cating by an archeddoorway showily papered, ; woman" had been the means of this ; and he
and poorly painted. Low, " French" windows inly anathematized Mrs. Harrison none too
opened on the piazza in stepping through one
; mildly.
of which Mr. Woodner's head came in contact "Which your nursery, Mrs. Woodner?"
is

with the sash with some violence. he asked, from the little seveu-
after turning
"An imitation of city parlors in the tenth by-uine box, crowded with a staring, new,
degree !" he said, rubbing his head. " Why, a painted chamber set, which apartment his
man can't stand upright in this little box !" wife had informed him was their chamber.
"You're very tall, you know," said his "Here it is," and she paused at an open
wife, excusingly. door, between which and the one window sat
" So I am. I never realized the fact before !" poor perspiring Ann, vainly endeavoring to
was the rueful reply, saturating his handker- catch a breath of air as she essayed to rock
chief from a cologne stand on the table, and Miss Katy to sleep.
bathingthe abrasion onhis forehead. " You 've "Oh, but isn't it i/fsscJhot weather, Misther
got the cottage piano, I see, Maria. But these Woodner!" Ann exclaimed, looking up as he
chairs, and this table, and irte-d-ttie, where 'd pansed in the doorway and scanned the little
they come from ? Not from home, surely I" room, crowded with the bed. Master Charlie's
" No the truth was, Arthur, after I 'd been
; crib, and a few toilet conveniences. "And
out here to see the cottage with Mrs. Harrison, wasn't ye afther being scorched to death in the
we came to the conclusion that very little of city to day ?"
our heavy parlor furniture at home would be " No, Ann a hot day, to be sure but 'twas
; ;
 HYACINTH COTTAGE. 75

cooler there than here!" he answered, as he after so hot a day. I hope it 's a healthy loca-
turned away from the stifling prison. tion, Maria ?"
" Sure an' how can the mastlier say so f " soli- " Oh, it mnst be so delightfully cool 1" was
;

loqnizeJ Ann, after he had departed. " When her quick answer.
it '3 hot as tlie hreath ov Purgatory here, in " Outside the house, you mean it 's stifling ;

the green and blissed country, I thouglit they enough muttered Mr. \Voodner, as
nitliin,"

must be de.id intirely in the town. Now hush, they re-entered the parlors. " But let us have
Miss Katy Will ye uiver be afther shuttiu'
! a little music
Old Hundred,' anytliing, only
'

yer swate blue eyes the whole livelong eve- one tune, and then I '11 go to bed, for I feel
nin' ?" And, with a fresh lurch of the low wretchedly tired after suuh a tedious day ;"
rocker and another copious start of perspira- and he lifted the lid of the cottage piano.
tion, honest Ann sw.ayed the poor heated, Mrs. Woodner played one or two pieces with
her stout red arms, and started
fretted child in much grace, for she possessed considerable
anew upon the seventh verse of a lovediUy in musical talent and her husband listened from
;

her native Celtic tongue. his position on a lounge he had drawn up close
" And now your bath-room, Maria?" W.1S the by the window to get a breath of the evening
nest query, as Mr. Woodner left the nnrsery. air. Presently, in the midst of a strain from
There was a little hesitancy of manner, and Norma, slap, slap together came his li,ands,

then she said in a vexed tone: "That is a creating a little discord and much commotion
luxury I miss, Arthur I quite forgot to notice
! as he jumped from the lounge.
the want of it when I looked at the house it : "Confound it, Maria, not only mosquitop,
isa shame that a new house should be built but beetle-bugs I" he exclaimed, as one flying
without one but Mrs. Harrison says we can
: visitor settled on his head, whence he brushed
have a tub set in that unoccupied chamber it with fr.antic eagerness. "It 's the light
over the wood-shed. They 're going to at their that brines them. We
have no peace to-
shall
cottage." night, I see, unless we close the windows and, ;

"I thought the advertisements stated 'all in that case, we run the risk of stilling. What
the modem improvements,' " said Mr. Wood- is it Willis says about going to sleep in the

ner, sarcastically, as he led the way down st.airs. country, and waking with a bug in your ear?
" But I hope we have a cellar ; else, in the But hark there 's Katy
! How feverish and !

absence of ice, we shall be in a nice quandary restless she looked to-night !" and the child's
where keep our food and stores."
to voice sounded out in a loud, fretful cry.
"0 there is a cellar I" was the trium-
yes ; "I do hope Katy isn't going to be sick!"
phant reply butasyet, Mrs. Woodner was quite
; said Mrs. Woodner, anxiously, dropping the
ignorant that said cellar whose regions Jane lid of the piano, preparatory to going up stairs.

only had explored was scarcely larger than a " It must be that she 's played too hard to-
coal-bin, and damp and mouldy and that ; day."
" Hyacinth Cottage" was built over a stagnant, " More likely it 's the heat, and that stifling

marshy soil, redolent of miasmas and typhus. little chamber!" was Mr. Woodner's ejacula-
" And this is the back yard ?" continued the tion to himself, as he lowered the "French"
lessee of the summer residence, emerging into windows, to the exclusion of the great, brown,
those precincts from the passage beyond the shining insects that now bumped and whizzed
kitchen and wood-shed. " These water cisterns vainly against the p.iues. "The children will
may be convenient for Bridget on wash-days, miss their nice airy nursery at home, and the
bnt, to my fancy, they are strongly suggestive b.ath-room, and a hundred conveniences it 's
of mosquitos. I must have bars at all the impossible to get here, in this little coop yclept
windows. What are those old willows down 'Hyacinth Cottage.' But no matter; we'll
yonder ?" and he pointed away across a lonely, sweat the summer through because it 's '
gen-
desolate, low marsh to a sickly row of pale- teel,' and Mrs. Harrison has laid down her
green, gnarled bushes bordering a brook that dictum. That woman I only hope she 's en-
!

flowed sluggishly onward. joying a hot-air bath in her little, pent-up

"Yes, Isupposeso, "Mrs. Woodner answered.
" Hum ! the '
fine
open country views' the advertisements of Bel-
mont property speak of, I suppose," was the
somewhat satirical comment. "Come, let us
go in, now ; it seems uncommonly damp here
' Lilac Hill Cottage' to-night."
belts of woodl.ind and " Sure, ma'am, it 's the bloody murtherin'
mushatoes that plague the childt;r so!" ex-
claimed poor Ann as her mistress made her
appearance, and found that worthy dauphter
of Erin battling a whole army of those winged
76 godet's lady's book and magazine.

pests with a, large feather-duster, while the home unless he brought news of somebody's
window stood wide open, and a glaring kero- going somewhere;" and perhaps the latter lady
sene lamp burned brightly on the table between had not found her summer retreat that btait
the bed and Master Charley's crib. "Ah, bat ideal of rural felicity which she had conjured.
wasn't I prayin' this blissid minnit for Saint Hyacinth ottage had held numerous guests
Patrick to fly into the winder, and then fly out during those three months from the last of
agin wid ivery singin' divil ov 'em I" June to the close of September. Mrs. Wood-
" Put out the Ann, after you have
light, ner's two young sisters had spent some weeks
driven out alland then drop your
you can ; with her at her urgent solicitation, though it
window curtain. Mr. Woodner is going to send must be confessed that they had left a far
out some mosquito-bars to-morrow. I never pleasanter countryhome behind, in the pleasant
imagined we should be so infested by these tor- old town Wheaton and then many city ac-
of ;

ments, " said the lady and, after soothing little

; quaintances, to whom the lady had spoken
restless, heated Katy, she left the chamber. patronizingly of "our house out town," had
"There, nowl Kape whist, and out wid ye, not hesitated to test her hospitality. Once,
ye murtherin divilsl" said Ann, after several Mr. Woodner had expressed the wish that " the
wide brushings and plungings with her weapon dining-room was bigger than a band box," in
of clearance. "Sure, an' the misthress called order that he might invite half-a-dozen gentle-
ye right ' pesterin' torments,' comiu' here to bite men cronies out to dinner but he contented ;

the swate, slapiu' childer 1 There 1 Saint Pat- himself with transferring the locale of his good
rick be off wid ye now, while honest folks are intentions to Parker's, at whose "mahogany"
afther gettiu' a wink ov sleep for it 's clane ; they enjoyed a feast of good things, while Hya-
tired out I am intirely I" and the poor girl be- cinth Cottage was left to the undisputed pos-
gan to make preparations for shaving her little session of lady and children visitors.
charge's slumbers. Scarcely three minutes " It seems to me that you are wearing your-
after, she lifted her head from the pillow to self out with so much company, Maria," said
ery out, " Arrah now ! is it back agiu' ye are, Mr. Woodner, one evening, after the last re-
ye murtherin' thieves? Sure, but it's aisi'cr treating ebb of a tide of visitors which had set
slapin' in ould Ireland ! An' it 's there I wish in a fortnight before from the city the last
I was this blissid miuit, and not in tliis buggy having that day departed.
Ameriky 1" " I have had considerable lately, though not
An hour later, silence had spread her mantle half as much as Mrs. Harrison. Mrs. Law-
over Hyacinth Cottage silence, save the shrill,
; rence and Mrs. Oakley, with their five children
small " winding horn" of the insects that and two servants, have just left her. But she
roamed the " stilly night ;" but sleep had not enjoys it ; and tells me that I feel too much
yet brought her blessed dew to seal the eyelids care when people are here, that I don't know
of all beneath that roof. how to take things easy."
"Maria," said Mr. Woodner, turning rest- " sincerely hope you never will learn to
I

lessly on his pillow, "I advise that you cage take some things as easy' as that woman '

and train one of the biggest of these mosquitos, does And perhaps her mood of repose won't
I

in case you want a carrier dove to bear any little
neighborly dispatches to Mrs. Harrison."
Three months had passed at Belmont
the little community had perspired, fretted,
and pined away the heated term in their " gen-
teel," "desirable," country residences.
lated as they were, yet the roar of the breakers
of the fashionable worldcame dimly to their
ears. Perhaps had not enjoyed their re-
all
tirement as much as they had anticipated
perhaps Mrs. Harrison had felt a longing to
join the party of friends
Niagara or to the White Mountains she con-
fessed asmuch, in imparting to Mrs. Woodner
last always !" he impetuously returned, " Poor
Harrison !"
" Why, what can you mean, Arthur ?" asked
; and Mrs. Woodner. " Is anything going to happen ?
Yon speak strangely. Is Mr. Harrison involved
in any unfortunate business speculations ?"
Iso- "Time will tell!" was the evasive answer;
then, h.astily changing the subject, he began
imparting some bit of news he had heard that
day in town, and finally drew forth the evening
paper, from which he commenced reading aloud
the latest war-tdiugs, while Mrs. Woodner
who whirled off to listened between the intricacies of her crochet-
; work.
The last of September arrived and the Vta- ;

her resolution to "stay it out at Lilac Hill, venports and the Blakes had given up their
though she did believe Harrison never came cottages, and returned to town. Mrs. Woodner
 HYACINTH COTTAGE. 77

began to revolve the same siiliject in her own feverish. But you must get some sleep and, ;

mind ; when, one day, Sirs. Harrison oarae

an<i Ann, you look tired, too you had better go ;

over to make known her decision to "break out and get a breath of the evening air, and
up" witliin the next fortnight, slie immediately then sleep up stairs to-night. I will take care
resolved to follow. That evening she commu- ofK.ity."
nicated this resolve to her husband. The night passed ; and Mr. Woodner did not
" Well, for my part, I shall be glad to get close his eyes beside the sick child. With the
home again," was his pleased reply. "It's early morning train, he sought the city ; and
getting to be too much like work, to be at the returned in the afternoon with the family phy-
station for the first train, now the days are sician, in whom both himself and wife reposed
growing shorter. But yon look anxious to- implicit confidence. When DoctorSibley turned
night. How is Katyf The child isn't well from the little crib, which had beeu removed to
I 'm convinced of that she 's been pining all
; Mrs. Woodner's room, and beside which the
summer." mother had anxiously watched all day, a grave
" That what worries me, Arthur," replied
's look was on his face.
his wife, nervously. " Katy 's been fretting "Is she very sick, doctor?" asked the
and moaning all day and to-night she 's hot
; mother. "And oh, don't tell me that it's
aud Hushed. I'm afraid she's going to have scfirlatimi! I dre.ad that so !"
some of the diseases children are subject to " No, it 's not that ; but a fever as much to he
scarlatina, perhaps." feared was the physician's thought-
ti/phus!"
Mr. Woodner started up from the tea-table ful reply. " I will not deceive you your child ;

where this conversation had taken place, and is very sick but we will hope for the best."
;

went upstairs hastily. Charlie slept in his crib " Oh, my darling Katy do not let her die, !

he, too, had not gained either in size or plump-
ness, as he always had during his previous
Slimmer visits at his grandfather's in the
healthy country mansion at Wheaton but in
little Katy, always a delicate child, the change
doctor I" pleaded Mrs. Woodner, in great agita-
tion. "' Typhus r how do you think she
took it, doctor ? I have been so careful of her.
; No one has been here to give it. If we were
in town, now, I .shouldn't wonder so mueh hut ;

was most apparent. She moaned and tossed
on the pillow, beside which faithful Ann sat,
soothing her her little face was pallid, save
; "Fevers of this class are often the result of
two bright red spots that burned on her cheeks
and her skin was dry aud hot to the touch.
" I have had her in my arms all day," said
Mrs. Woodner, who had followed her husband.
" Have hardly given her up to Ann a minute.
Isn't she really sick, Arthur ?" And she nerv-
ously w.atched his anxious face as he leaned
over the pillow. "Oh, I wish I had sent into
town this morning for Doctor Sibley
Ann has taken her out every day, and she has
had the country air all summer."
;
our surroundings. Are you quite sure you
have selected a healthy summer residence,
Mrs. Woodner 1 I could not help observing a
heavy mist that hung over the low grounds iu
the rear of your cottage, as I came up from the
station. And you are not looking as well
yourself as when I saw you last in town, Mrs.
Woodner."
; he un- " Hyacinth Cottage is built over a bog-hole ;

derstands the children so well and there isn't and the water we have been drinking all sum-
a good physician anywiiere round here." mer, doctor, would nauseate your srtomachl"
" Katy certainly is feverish, aud I wish Doc- bluntly replied Mr. Woodner. " And we have
tor Sibley was here," was the father's reply as been stifled iu these little chambers. No won-
he felt the hot, dry skin of the child, and the der Katy is sick I 'm surprised that we all
!

hard, bounding pulse. " I shall not leave her are not. We were talking of going back to
to-night; but you look quite worn out, and town next week but now, I suppose poor little
;

must go to bed immediately, Maria. To-mor- Katy must stay here, and take her chance of
row I will have the doctor out by the early recovery. What a pity we hadn't got away,
afternoon train." doctor 1"
" Oh, if it should be scarlatina, Arthur I I "Yes, it is a pity but the child is too siok
;

always dread that so !" was the anxious excla- to be removed at present. I have no doubt
mation. " And Katy is such a delicate child, but this location is very unhealthy hav'n't| ;

would go hard with her !"

it much faith iu these modern cottages for sum-
" Do not be unnecessarily alarmed, Maria I" mer retreats you really would have had much
;

her husband replied, soothingly. " It may he purer air in your large house near the Park, it
nothing more than a cold, which renders her seems to me, Mr. Woodner. But do not be
7
78 godey's lady's book and magazine.

over alarmed about your child ; I irill do my settled heavily on the heads of his wife and
best for herand that is all any of U9 can do,
; Mrs. Harrison.
you know," he said, sympathizingly.
"But Katy is so frail so delicate, doctor!" Three weeks dragged by, on leaden wings to
said the mother. the afflicted parents and then, to their great
;

"That very circumstance maybe in her joy, little Katy was pronounced convalescent.
favor, Mrs. Woodner for often a fever goes
; P.ale, weak, and emaciated, she lay in her little

harder with a very vigorous person than a less crib, over which the mother had hung ten-
healthy one. Now, your boy is more robust derly, and beside which the father had passed
I should fear more for him, with typhus. Aud, many days, feeling too anxious to be away in
by the way, you had better send him away at town. Doctor Sibley, meanwhile, had been
once from this region of danger. faithful and unremitting and it was with ;

"Ann shall take him to Wheaton to-morrow. genuine pleasure that he received the grateful
I wish I had gone there this summer. The thanks of the parents when he spoke confidently
children were never healthier th.in when there. of his little patient's recovery.
Oh, doctor, if I were well out of Belmont, I "And, now, my Last piece of advice is, that
never would desire to set foot in it again. If you break up here and return to town just
Katy lives, I shall only be too happy to leave it." as soon as possible ; taking care that little

As from the sorrow-strick-

this confession fell Katy gets no cold to bring on a relapse. Your
en mother's lips, Mr. Woodner could not help own health demands it, Mrs. Woodner ; for the
wishing that Mrs. Harrison were present and, ; sake of your husband and children, I don't
looking upon his darling child, tossing to aud want to have you on my hands nest," s.iid the
fro upon her little pillow, his feelings toward kind physician, as he paid his last visit to the
" that woman, " who had been the prime cause cottage.
of their coming to this unhealthy region, were Mrs. Woodner drew a long breath of relief,
none too pleasant. and the tears stood in her eyes. "To think
" Doctor, what do you think of Katy ?" he dear Katy is spared to us, Arthur!" she said,
asked, .as he followed the physician to the gate, thankfully, to her husband. "I cannot get
when he was leaving to take the train b.ick to aw.ay from here soon enough. I shall tell Jane
the city. "If we should lose her, I never and Bridget commence packing up to-mor-
to
should forgive myself for letting Maria come row. We have the new furniture sent off
will
here." to the auction-rooms I never want to see any-
:

"As I .said, very sick

she but I hope to
is ; thing that shall remind me of this summer at
be the instniment of saving herfor you. Keep Belmont. To-morrow, when yon are in town,
calm, Mr. Woodner I will be out .again in a day
; you had better go up to the liouse, and see that
or two: meantime, follow my directions. Good- it is properly aired for our coming. And oh,
night!" And Doctor Sibley left him. "There how glad I shall be to liave Charlie at home
is miasma in every breath. I would as soon again 1 Sister Annie writes that the little fel-
bring a family to the midst of the Dismal low is plump and rosy, and has had such
Swamp as to this marshy spot," said the phy- splendid times at 'grandpapa's,' now they are
sician, ashe walked rapidly along. "I see gathering the fruit in. How liappy we shall

how it is hot and burning at mid-day, and all be when we get home again ! If ever I again
damp and chilly at night and the vapors curl- ; leave our nice house in Boston during the sum-
ing up from that sluggish creek that cuts the mer season, it shall only be to spend the hottest
lowlands. These building speculators they weather at father's."
ought to be hung, every one of them, to put "Then you've had enough of 'Hyacinth
up a line of showy cottages in this region, and Cottage,' Maria?" s.aid her husband, quizzi-
then dupe the people from comfortable city cally, though inly delighted as much as her-
homes where the air is a hundred times purer, self at their proposed speedy flitting.

I am surprised that a man of Arthur Woodner's "Don't mention it to me again, Arthur!"

sense should have fallen into the trap. But she .answered, quickly, with a vexed tone, but
,the illness of his child will be a lesson to him." a little laugh. " Hyacinths !' I never saw a
'

As Doctor Sibley indulged in these reflec- single specimen of that flower here. I 'd better
tions until he gained the Belmont station, some named it ' D.andelion Cottage,' for they were
friendly voice ought to h.ave whispered into plenty. Mrs. Harrison's 'lilacs' did bloom;
his ear th.at Mr. Woodner should not have but that shrub grows everywhere but the ;

borne the blame which ought, by right, to liave Blakes were as foolish as I, for there was only
 HYACINTH COTTAGE. 79

one oM, dying sycamore 'bnttonwood' they pity thatwoman so much as I ought to, perhaps,
call it out here
that grew vrithin half a mile Maria!"
of their house." "'Retrenchment!' 'Economy!' the very
" I pity Uiirrison, with his cottage ou his words her husband used to say to her," re-
hands ; but probably she won't want to come peated Mrs. Woodner, in a low tone, when she
here next summer, now some of her neighbors, was alone. "Poor soul! I 'm io sorry for her I

over whom she used to have such influence, But how thankful /ought to bo that Arthur's
have decided not to accompany her " Mr. !
business stands so firm, when many others are
Woodner did not hesitate to say "iw/ to have," broken up these dreadful war times Let him !

for he felt qnite sure, now, that the influence talk 'economy' as much as he pleases iu the
"that woman" had formerly wielded over his future, I shall be convinced that he is the best
wife was lessened. And, if this result had judge 1" And, with a blush of shame, she re-
been accomplished, "Hyacinth Cottage" had membered the many occasions when she had
not been such a costly lesson after all. contested his better judgment, and, like Mrs.
The following day, Mr. Woodner went into Harrison, "gained her point" through "much
lowrf, tr.ansacted his business at the counting- importunity." And, as she turned away from
room, dined at Parker's then, with elate heart little K.tty, whom she resigned to Bridget while

and eager step, turned his way to the old she went down to take her place at the tea-
familiar house on H Street. Opening table, Mrs. Woodner gave another deep and

its doors, and walking through lonely halls and heartfelt sigh for poor Mrs. U.irrison.
apartments that would soon ring again with A week more saw the Woodners comfortably
the sound of welcome honsehold voices, he established in their city home again while ;

felt a keen thrill of pleasure at his heart. But, the deserted "summer residence" at Belmont
as he left the honse and walked down the w.as resigned to silence, and the cottage-furni-
street the length of a few blocks, he suddenly ture turned over to an auction-room. The still
cast his eye npstone front on
at the handsome pale, but fast-recovering little Katy was as-
whose was engraved "George
silver door-pl.ate signed the coziest corner in the large, cheerful,
Harrison." Mrs. Harrison had left "LiLac well-ventilated nursery; and when Charlie,
Hill," full three weeks before, for her town accompanied by nurse Ann and Aunt Annie,
home but to-day the honse on H
; Street m.ade his appearance from Wheaton, the little
was strangely dull-looking the curtains down, convalescent's delight knew no bounds. Brud- '
'

and no callers had left their cards for forty- der Charlie" was ever ready to play with her
eight hours at the door. and amuse her she pined no longer, but
;

" Poor Harrison I thought it would come to

I gained rapidly day by day. " Sure, but it's
Mis, with that woman's extr.avag.ances and hlissid good to saj Miss Kathy gettiu' so well
want of sympathy with his business cares and an' strong, afther the dreadful faiver !" said
perplexities " sighed Mr. Woodner as he walked
!
Ann "an' it's good, too, to be back agin in
past. onld Bostin, away from the siugiu' bugs and
When he crossed the threshold of the cottage 'skaters ! Ah I and wouldn't Saint Patrick be
at Belmont that evening, his wife's first excla- afther havin' plenty 07 worruk to do, if he
mation was " Why, Arthur, how sober you
: lived in Ameril-i/ f"
look Has anything h.appened ?"
! Another summer has passed since Mrs.

"Yes, Maria what I have feared for some Woodner learned her lesson, that a " genteel,
time, though it shocked me when I heard of it desiraljle summer residence" may not always

to-day on 'Change the firm of Harrison & Co. be a comfortable or healthy one and she was ;

has gone down." well content to spend months in the large,

its
" Fuiled, Arthur ? Yon don't mean it What ! airy mansion whose roof had sheltered her
will poor Jlrs. Harrison do ?" girlhood, and where blossoming clover roses,
" Do what she ought to have done years ago new-mown hay, plenty of sweet milk, and
learn to thin!;; to see the folly of her idle, " good country fare" deepened the bloom of
fashionable, extravagant life to adapt herself, ; he.alth upon her own cheeks and her children's.
in future,poor Harrison should ever rise
if As for her husband, whenever that gentle-
above it, to her limited income to do what ; man wishes to satirize any plan whereby gen-
she seemed bent on not doing for the past few uine comfort is likely to be sacrificed to out-
years, though she must have known the need ward show, he gently refers to "Hyacinth
of retrenchment
to live economically. I cin't Cottage."
80 godet's lady's book: and magazine.

Draw squares, polygons, and triangles within

PRACTICAL LESSONS IN DRAWING. circles, and then construct a circle within a
THIRD LESSON. square.
You mnst now turn your attention to the Copy the following figure (11), and then pro-
drawing of curved lines. Unless you can draw Fig, n. Fig. 12.
a curved line accurately in any direction, you
can never hope to delineate the human figure
or animals in a proper manner for the out- ;

lines of both the animal and vegetable kingdoms

are made up of curved lines of every variety.
It is needless to give a long list of examples ;

the student will easily observe them in the ob-

jects around him, from the horse to the cat or
diminutive mouse or from the gay butterfly
;

that soars above him, to the caterpillar from

which it has been transformed or from the ;

lofty oak to the humble acorn. ceed to draw the three following outlines, which
Commence practising the formation of curved you will no doubt do correctly and readily,

lines by drawing several like a, Fig. 10, and from the practice you have already had in the
then, when you are able to do so accurately curved lines. Be careful, in copying a and c,
and easily, draw parallel lines with greater to make the left-hand lines darker than those

curve, as b, Fig. 10. When you can enlarge to the right, while b has lines of each breadth.
these copies upon a blackboard, with a piece It is well to use the pencil marked HB for this

o! chalk, or reduce them with a pencil upon purpose, the different thicknesses of the lii>e
paper, then you may venture to draw a circle being produced by the degrees of pressure em-
like e, Fig. 10. ployed.

To draw a circle. Commence by making a In drawing lines, the hand should rest upon
faiut dot upon the paper to mark the centre ;
the last two fingers. If the lines are short the
then place another dot on either side of it, and motion of the hand should not extend beyond
at equal distances, and continue placing dots the wrist joint but if the lines are long, then
;

.at equal distances all round tlie central one, the hand will glide over the paper easily, if it
until a circle of dots is formed you must then ;
is carefully bal.anced and rests upon these fin-

join all the dots with a steady and slow sweep gers, while the motion of the hand proceeds

of the hand, beginning at the top of the circle, from the elbow or from the shoulder.
and drawing from left to right, and right round As you h.ave already practised curved lines
from the point at which you started. Practise and circles, you will no doubt be able to copy
this several times, as it will give you precision, this example, which is tlie outline of the volute
and enable you to observe the relative distance Fii;. 1.3.

of the outer part of the circle from the centre.

Do not attempt to use compasses to draw a
circle.
When you have drawn a few dozen by
circles
the aid of the dots, draw some without making
any marks upon the paper or board some- ;

times drawing from left to right, and at other

times from right to left.

Draw one circle within another, so that their

margins shall be parallel, as in the poition of of an Ionic capital from the Ericthenm, at
the one shown in h, Fig. 10. Athens. It is needless to describe how it
Draw a semicircle (as/, in Fig. 10), and should be drawn, because, if you have attended
then practise forming d and in the same to the rules already given, you will be able to
figure, until you can join lines neatly, some- know how to proceed at once. Copy this ex-

times commencing from the lower part of the ample over .and over again, enlarging and di-

figures, and at other times from the upper p.art. minishing the copy, until your eye has become
Divide circles into sections, so as to exhibit familiar with the figure then endeavor to f'onn
:

the half, a quarter, a third, or other divisions its outline without having the example before

of a circle. you. When you have accomplished your task,

 PRACTICAL LESSONS IN DRAWING. 81

yon will be better prepared to copy the next MY SISTER-IN-LAW.

example.
BT C. J. M.
This drawing is a combination of curved and
I k:(ow not how to palot her, so good nod fiiir was she:
Fig. 1-L Her eyes were like tho ring-dove's, so pure their bril-
liancy ;

Uor voice was low aod liquid, her hair was soft and
browu,
And her cheeks wore like the roses that hloom in Sum-
mer's CIOWQ.

But not for all hor beauty my sister did I prize

'TwHS fur the lovo thai loukcd ou me ftom out her gen-
tle eyes
'Twas for tha soul's sweet graces that beamed upon ber
face,
And all the truth and goodoeas that in her heart found
place.

'Twas not in days of childhood wo learned to love so

well
Her homo a city's crowded mart, mine In a northern
dell;
And not until a husband's love my happy life had
crowned,
Did I find the name of sister o very dear a sound.

For years our skies were cloudless, our paths were

strewn with flowers,
But at length we saw the shadows from out the coming
hours
Ah, then life's thorns so pierced oar hearts bosido our
mother's tomb.

straight lines, so arranged that they form the Wo felt no more the sunshine, we saw no more tho
bloom.
ontliue of the base of a column and by copy- ;

ing this example frequently, you will acquire a Time laid his hand upon our grief once more tiie skies
very good idea of proportion. If you had 1191 grew bright,
Wlion o'er my sister's home there fell the tlni-kness of
exercised yourself in drawing straight and
tho iiifht;
carved lines, you could not have ilrawn this In the midst of anxious watcbings tho angel Death
figure. You may, therefore, look upon straight came down
and curved lines as the letters or alphabet of And bore away hor fairest to beautify bis crowu.

draw in*;. And though I loved her dearly when sorrow was nn-
known,
For her days of anguish she bad far d^'arer g-rown,
Plato. Several anecdotes of Plato are pre-
I
all
said, " If prayers can shield her from aught of grief or
served, which reflect honor on his moral prin- ill,

ciples and character. Having raised his hand Can bring her any gladness, God knows mine surely
to correct a servant when in anger, he kept will."

his arm fixed in that posture for a considerable Alas, 'twas not in power of lovo to eave her life from
time. To a friend coming in, and inquiring care,

the reason of his singular conduct, ho replied, God lays on each the burdens he wishes them to hear ;

** I am Stiehad her joys and sorrows as those of mortal birth,

punishing a passionate man !" At an-
But bore them all so meekly she seemed not of earth.
other time, he said to one of his servants, " I
would chastise you if I were not angry." And now that God hath called her unto ber heavenly
rest,
"When told that his enemies were circulating
"Why should we mourn and marmar7 lie knowetii
reports to his disadvantage, he remarked, " I
wliat is best
will so live that no one will believe them." A Oh give us, God, the eye of faith, that henceforth we
friend observing his studious habits, even in may Me
extreme years, inquired how long he intended Tho one whom thou hast torn from us, forever, Lord,

to be a scholar.
** As long," said he,
*'as I
with thee.

have need to grow wiser and better."

A LiTTi.E explained, a little endured, a little WnoKVER is honorable and candid, honest
passed over as a foible, and lo, the rugged and courteous, is a true gentleman, whether
atoms will fi.t like smooth mosaic. learned or unlearned, rich or poor.
 NOVELTIES FOR JULY.
LATEST STYLE 01 HEADDRESSES, MASTLE, CAPS, ETC.

Fig. 1. Fig. 2.

Fiff. 3. Fig. 4. Fig. 5.

Fig. 6.

Figs. 1and 2 are the back and front views of Fig. 6. Hair dressed in front with a succes-
the samecoiflfure. The hair is crep^, rolled, sion of puffs and a ringlet behind each ear. A
and dressed with feathers and flowers. coronet tuft of flowers is placed between the
Fig. 3. Marie Antoinette coiffure. puffs, and the hair is dressed in a double bow
Fig. 4. Very simple coiffure for a young lady. at the back.
Fig. 5. Coiffure arranged in looped bauds in Fig. 7. The hair is in a double roll in front,

front and a waterfall at the back. with a curl falling behind each ear. The back
82
 NOVELTIES FOR JULY. 83

Fig. 8.

Fig. 8. Summer mantle, made of white

Itirer/e, and trimmed with bands of very nar-
row Hack velvet.

h.ick Lair is tiglaiy rolled and formed in a Fig. 9. Fiincy dinner-cap, made of figured
scroll, and kept in pl.ice br two fancy pius. illusion, point aj>/>!ii]ii^ lace, and violet ribbons.
84 godey's lady's book and magazine.

Fig. 10. Apron for a little girl from live to FiB. 12.

seveu years of age.

Fig. 12. White muslin 'bow, trimmed with

Fig. 11. Niglit-dress for a young cliild. fluted ruffles.

LITTLE GIEL'S CEOCIIET UNDEK PETTICOAT.

Mater ials.E&lt pouDd of white double Berlin wool in may he left, to a certain extent, to the taste
half ounce of scarlet ditto
a long crochet needle. but we will give the full descrip-
;
of the worker ;

A NICE warm petticoat of tliis description is which our illustration

tion of the petticoat from
indeed a comfortable garment for little girls to was made, which was very pretty and comforta-
wear under their crinolines, over the usual ble-looking. For a child from six to seven years
flannel petticoat, and mothers will do well to of age, the garment should be one and a half
employ their leisure time in making a little yards wide and thirteen inches long. The
article like this for their children, to protect, ground-work is in Gobelin stitch, and the bor-
in a slight degree, their little legs from expo- ders, of which there are three, are in Wave
sure to cold. The stitch that it may be done stitch. Descriptions of these two stitches have
 WORK DEPARTMKXT. 85

been given iu previous uumbers. lu white double in the first of these long, one treble in
wool, a chain of two liuiutred and ten stitches the same long, one double in the two following
should be made, and on this a row of ordinary stitches of foundation ; now repeat from*. A
double crochet worked. Then couimeuce the treble needleful of red wool should be run in
Wave stitch and work seven double rows, then the Jlrst row of K'uie stitch, just below the

three double rows of (iobelin stitch, live double Gobelin stitch, to gige the three stripes seen in
rows in Wave stitch, three iu Uobelin stitch, the illustration. The top of the petticoat is pleat-
three in Wave stitch, thirty-seven in Gobelin ed and put into a band, which should be done
stitch so finishing the petticoat. Care must in titjhtltj-worhed double crochet. The garment
he taken to keep the work straight at the is pleated up and secured
to the desired size,
edges by always inserting the needle through by a row double crochet,
of tightly-worked
the last loop in each row. The garment is always inserting the needle throui;h the double
joined behind, an opening for the
leaving or treble portions of the pleats at the same
placket-hole, which should be worked round time. Eight rows have then to be worked
with double crochet. The small border at the very closely, leaving a space in the working to
edge in scarlet wool is done in the following form the button-bole. A button is sewed on the
manner: one double crochet, * three long, one other side, so that the baud fastens neatly.

BKAIDIXG PATTKHX For. A LAl^V S CBAVAT.

VOL. LXVII.
86 godey's lady's book and magazine.

SOFA OR ELBOW CUSHION. sent, to work one of these pretty little articles.
Cut out four pieces of blue aud four pieces of
Materials. Four pieces of blue French merino four
;

scarlet meriuo, and allow enough for trim-

pieces of scarlet ditto ; one sltein of white purse silk
one sliein of black ditto one skein of bright amber ditto;
;
mings, and be particular that one side of
one skeiQ of scarlet ditto. each piece is cut the salvage way of the ma-
terial. Then embroider the blue
pieces in the following manner
Centre of pine white silk, pine am-
ber silk, cor.il border round pine,
scarlet silk. In the scarlet merino
the same arrangement of color, with
the exception of the coral border,
which should be done in black silk.
Some of the embroidery is executed
in buttonhole-stitch, some in her-
ringbone-stitoh, and some in varied
dots. The making up, which is
always a difBculty .ind an expense
with articles of fancy work, may be
accomplished by the worker. The
eight pieces of merino must be
stitched together, placing one sel-
vage and a crossway piece so as to
prevent the merino from stretching.
The bottom must then be cut out ;

round the
this consists of a simple
size of the top when all the pieces
are stitched together. A calico case,
m.ade exactly the same shape as the
merino, should be stuffed with wool,
the merino laid over, and the open-
ing sewn up. A ruching of ribbon
forms a pretty finish to the edge,
and the cushion is stabbed through
the centre to the wrong side, and
ornamented with a rosette. Some-
times the backs of these cushions
are made of leather, as being strong-
er and more durable than merino.

BEAD BRACELET AND CHAIN.

This little bracelet may be com-
posed of as many rows as the taste
of the worker may prefer. If made
in jet or imitation pearl, a chain to

We have given a certain arrangement for match is a great improvement. The following
color, as by so doing the description of the are the instructions for threading the beads.
work is rendered more comprehensible. But Commence with three strings, keeping one for
there are many more contrasts which would be the centre, on which thread one bead, which
equally pretty such as scarlet and white, blue
: ought to be a little larger than the others. On
and white, black and scarlet, etc. etc. As the right hand, thread two beads on the left. ;

many ladies will have by them some odd pieces four, passing the needle of the right hand
of meriuo which might be advantageously used through two beads on the left, leaving the
for a cushion of this description, we would re- centre thread under. Thread two more beads
commend them, if they may wish to make a on the left-hand side pass the needle from the
;

sliowy, and at the same time inexpensive pre- right through them, bringing the centre thread
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 87

orer. By passing the centre thread alternately mesh, and secure it in the same manner as a
under and over, the middle bead and thread buttonhole stitch would be made at the edge of
are firmly fixed in tlieir place. Repeat to the embroidery. This, we think, will explain the
required length. Three rows make a pretty mode of fastening the stitch. Tlie arrange-
bracelet. Finish with a jet or fancy snap. ment of the little feathers in the netting can
be easily worked from the illustration, and the
pattern can be varied as taste dictates, making
NETTED BORDER. the diamonds larger, so decreasing the quantity
(See engraving, page 25.) of plain netting. When the top of the border
This border may
be made any width, and is is finished, the fringe is commenced with the
suitable for trimmifag bed-furniture, dimity largest mesh. 1st Net 4 i-litches into
row:
window curtains, etc. Knitting Cotton No. 8, every alternate loop, and secure in the same
3-tlireads, and 2 diflferent sized meshes are re- manner as the smaller feathersor fiiiey stitches.
quired. After making a foundation, net 2 plain The 2d row is netted plain witli the smaller
rows. 2</ row: Net 4 plain, wind the cotton mesh. The Zd row the same with the large
3 times round the mesh, putting the needle mesh. 4th row: With the large mesh take 4
each time into the stitch, 6m/ not netting it ; then, loops of preceding row, and make 1 stitch of
to knot the stitch firmly, pass the needle round them. Repeat, bth row: Same as Ist. CM
the 3 loops without putting the thre.ad over the row : Same as 2d.

NAME FOB MASKING.

EMBROIDEBY.

O cPoooOo oOoooOOOo OOOooooOOo cP0

o^ 3 00 0rOO 'oOo
OOOooO ooOOoo-o S3ooOOOOooO '^ooO<=OOooo ^

OaO OaO OaO . O^O , OaC

, ,
88 godey's lady's book and magazine.

CROCHET SOCK.

It is pleasant to combine utility and orna- tern will be perfectly understood by the illus-
ment together, and thus render the occupations tration ; the manner of forming the sock is the
of the work-table conducive to a double interest. same as that of knitting, namely, to begin at
Crochet is now so universally practised, that the top. In the one we are now giving, it must
few ladies could be found who do not excel in be commenced under the fancy pattern which
this branch of fancy-work. We have therefore forms the welt, as this is worked the contrary
given a little article in it, which is so generally way after the sock is formed. After the upper
useful, that we feel sure it will be acceptable to part is worked, half the width is continued for
many of our subscribers. Children's socks in the heel, which, when long enough, is folded
this pattern areboth easy of execution, and and joined together, the foot being worked
extremely durable they are also adapted for
; from it. The best way is to take a woven sock
summer wear from their openness, which ren- for a guide for the size, and form it exactly in
ders them cool for the hot weather. The pat- the same manner. The pattern for the welt is
 WORK DEPARTMENT.

then vorked from the top npvards, and muat knit a row. Purl the next; and knit and purl
he Id tighter crouhet than the sock. If it were alternately six rows. Join on the colored wool.
cgmmeuced nt this part, the little p.'itteru vrotild I'url the row and knit the next. Repeat
first

be the wrong way upwards, which would spoil these alteru.ately until six colored rows are
the effect. These socks are extremely pretty done. Do the two stripes alternately three
when completed. They must of course be times more, then cast off loosely, dropping
worked in fine crochet cotton. The ornnmentnl every fourth stitch, and subseijuently undoing
border at the top can be varied according to it to the foundation. Sew the edges together,
taste, as can be made much more elaborate
it and draw up the ends.
than the one given by those who are proficients
in this branch of fancy-work.
The Tassels.
Take some white wool, an 1
also colored, and wind together round a strong
cord about twenty-four times. Tie the strands
tightly at even distances of three-quarters of an
R0FF FOR A YOUNG GIRL. inch. Cut them between every two ties, and
JfntertaU. Seven skeiQS of white wool, and seven of string the balls thus formed on wool, with a
pretty rose color. Knitting needles. No. 1.1.
rug needle, to form the tassels. Chenille tas-
With the white wool cast on 130 stitches, and sels also look very pretty.

EMBBOIDEIiY.

J-
y
.0 A /K0 ^
90 godey's lady's book and magazine.

INSERTION FOK MUSLIN. NECK-TIE AND CUFF,

MADE OF BLUE AND BLACK KIBBON, WORKED WITH JET BEADS, AND
^^^ EDGED WITH BLACK LACE.

Mv^

FANCY TRIMMING,
MADE OP RIBBON, AND VERT
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 91

EMBROIDERED INITIALS FOB A PILLOW-CASE.

BRAIDINO PATTEKN.

INSERTION AKUA.NGED FOR COLORED RIBBON OR VELVET.

i nmMmiri'iniimilffnuniiiniHnnniMUTrmu'iiy riiiimniiiiiinnniuiwBiirniiniinwwHnBnnniinimni'nnniinnPHf,nni!i
i

i<BHgwiii(niiirniiitiiiuiininni'iii'iiu'iuMini'i'iiniiiiiiitiiiiininiumiTiituiiutiiiitiiiiiiiimiinnil

There are numerons purposes for wliich these insertions may he applied. Collars, sleeves, ami
chemisettes are mach improved hy the ornamentation of tasteful insertions like this we !iave
illustrated.
92 GODEY'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

become boiling hot then take it off, and let the bottles
;

remain until the water is cold; the nest day fill the
lUnipts, ^c. bottles with coJd water, and cork aud seal them. These
may be used the same as fresh fruit. Greengages may
be done in this way.
DIRECTIONS FOR PRESERVING FRUITS, ETC.
Damson Jellt. Put any number of fine ripe damsons
To Preserve Greenoaoks. The following receipt into a stone jar, and one-third the quantity of bullace.s
appears to be a good oue Pick and prick all the plums,
:
into another, and either bake them in a slow oven, or
pui them into a preseivini^-pan, with cold water enough boilthem in a pan of water, till the juice is extracted.
to cover them let them remain on the fire until the water
;
Pour off the juice clear from the fruit, strain and weigh
simmers well; then take off, and allow them to stand it; boil quickly without sugar for twenty-five min-
it

until half cold, putting the plums to drain. To every
pound of plums allow one pound of sugar, which must
be boiled in the water from which the plums nave been
taken ; let it boil very fast until the
from the spoon, skimming carefully all the time. When
the suuar is sutliciently bulled, put in the plums and
allow them to boil until the sugar covers the pan with
large bubbles; thea pour the whole into a pan, and let
them remain until the following day drain the syrup
from the plums as dry as possible, boil it up quickly,
utes, diaw from the fire, stir into it ten ounces of good
it
sugar for each pound of juice, anS boil it quickly for
six to ten minutes longer, carefully clearing off all the
syrup drops short scum. The jelly must be often stirred before the sugar
is added, and constantly afterwards.
To Preserve Apricots. Choose fine apricots, pare
them thinly and cleanly, and when dune, take their
weight, cut them in halves and remove the kernel, lay
;
them with the inside upwards, take the same weight of
pounded loaf-sugar and strew over them break the ;

and pour it over the plums then set ^em by do this ; ;

stones of the apricots and blanch the kernels; let the
a third and a fourth time. On the fifth day, when the
fruit lie in the sugar for twelve hours, then put fruit,
syrup is boiled, put the plums into it, and let them boil
sugar, juice, and kernels into a preserving-pan, simmer
for a few minutes then put them into jars. Should the
;
gently until clear ; as the scum risesj remove it ; remove
greengages be over-ripe, it will be better to make jam the halves of the apricots; as they become cold, lay
of them, using three-fourths of a pound of sugar to one
them in jars, and when the whole of the fruit has been
pound of fruit. Warm the jars before putting the
potted, pour equally over them the syrup and the ker-
sweetmeats in, and be careful not to boil the sugar to a
nels. Cover the fruit with brandy paper, and tie tightly
candy. down.
Grbenoaoe Jam. When
plums are thoroughly the GoosEBERRT Jam. Stalk and crop as many as you re-
ripe, take off the and boll them
skins, stone, weigh,
quire of ripe, red, rough gooseberries ;
put them into the
quickly without sugar for fifty minutes, keeping them
preserving-pan, and as they warm, stir aud bruise them
well stirred; then to every four pounds of fruit add tobring out the juice. Let them boll for ten minutes,
three of loaf sugar reduced quite to powder, boil the
then add sugar in the proportion of three-quarters of a
preserve from five to eight minutes longer, and clear off pound to every pound of fruit, and place it on the fire
the scam perfectly before it is poured into the jars. again let it boil slowly, and continue boiling for two
;

When the flesh of the fruit will not separate easily from
hours longer, stirring it all the time to prevent its burn-
the stones, weigh, and throw the plums whole into the When
ing. it thickens, and is jelly-like on a plate when
preserving-pan, boil them to a pulp, pass them through
cold, it is done enough. Put it into pots, aud allow it
a sieve, and deduct the weight of the stones from them
to remain a day before it is covered.
when apportioning the sugar to the jam.
To Preserve Applks, Golden Pippins. Take therind
Pldms. There are several varieties of plums. The
of an orauge, and boil it very tender, then lay it in cold
richest purple plum for preserving is the damson. There
water days; take two dozen golden pippins,
for three
are of these large and small ; the large are called sweet
pare, core and quarter them, boil them to a strong jelly,
damsons ; the small ones are very rich flavored. The and run it through a jelly-bag till it is clear. Take tlie
great difficulty in preserving plums is that the ski ns crack same quantity of pippins, pare and core them, and pui
and the fiuit comes to pieces. The rule here laid down three pounds of loaf sugar in a preserviug-pan with a
for preserving them obviates that difficulty. Purple
pint and a half of spring water, letit boil, skim it well,
gages, unless properly preserved, will turn to juice
and put in your pippins with the orange rind cut into
and skins and the large horse- plum (as it is generally
;
long thin slips, then let them boil fast till the sugar
known) comes completely to pieces in oi'dinary modes becomes thick and will almost candy then put in a pint ;

of preserving. The one recommended herein will keep and a half of pippin jelly, and boil fast till the jelly is
them whole, full, aud rich. clear, then squeeze in tho juice of a fine lemon, give the
To Preserve PtrRPLE Plums. Make a syrnp of clean whole another boil, aud put the pippins in pots or glasses
brown sugar ; clarify it ; when perfectly clear aud boil- with the orange peel. Lemon peel may he used instead
ing hot, pour it over the plums, having picked out all of orange, but then it must only be boiled, and not soaked.
unsound ones and stems let them remain in the syrup
;

QriNCE Marmalade. Gather the fruit when quite
two days, then drain it off, make it boiling hot, skim it, ripe; pare, quarter,and core it; boil the skins in the
and pour it over again let them remain another day
;
water, measuring a teacupfnl to a pound of fruit when ;

or two, then put them in a preserving-kettle over the
fire, and simmer gently nntil the syrup is reduced, and
thick or rich. One pound of sugar for each pound of
plums.
To Keep Damsons. Put them
in small stone jars, or
they are soft, mash and strain them, and put back the
water into the preserving kettle; add the quinces, and
boil them until they are soft enough to ma^h fine; rub
through a sieve, and put three-quarters of a pound of
sugar to a pound of fruit stir them well together, and
;

wide-mouthed glass bottles, and set them up to their boil them over a slow fire nntil it will fall like jelly
necks in a kettle of cold water ; set it over the fire to from the spoon. Put it In pots or tumblers, and secure
 RECEIPTS. n
it, when cold, with paper sealed Co the ed^e of the jar spoon over a gentle have burst, and the
fire until all

with the while ofaa egg. juice flows freely fromthem strain It off without pres- ;

sure, and pass it through a jelly-bag, weigh, aud then

To Prksrhtb PEARd. Take small, rich, fair fruit, as
soon as the pip8 are black; set them over the Are ia a
boll it rapidly for twenty minutes draw it from the ;

fire, stir in it uutil dissolved fuurteen ounces of loaf-

kettle, with water to cover them let theio simmer uutil ;

sugar, roughly powdered, to each pound of juice, and

they will yield to tho pressure of the fluyer, theo, with a
boil quickly minutes longer, keeping it con-
for fifteen
ftkimmer, lake them luto cold water pare them ueatly, ;

stantly stirred aud perfectly well skimmed. It will be

leaving ou a little of the stem aud the blossom end pieice ;

very clear, and of a beautiful pale-rose color.

them at the blossom ead to the core then make a byrup ;

of a pouad of sugar for each pouud oi fruit whcu it is ;

Green Qbapes. Take the largest aud best grapes
boiling hot, pour it over the pears, aud let it staitd uotil before they are ripe ; stone and scald them, let them lie

the next day, when make it boiliug hut, aod

draia it off, two days in the water they were scalded in, then drain
again pour it over day or two, put the fruit in
; after a them and put them into a thin syrup, aud heat them
the syrup over the fire, and boil gently uutil it is clear ; over a slow fire the next day turn the grapes into a
:

then take it into the jars or spread it on dishes boil the ;

pan and heat them, then drain them, put them into
(lyrup thick, then put it and the fiuit in jars. clarified sugar, give them a good boil, skim them, and
set them by. The next day boil more sugar, put it to
To Preserve Apples. Take equal quantities of good
the grapes, give them all a good boil, skim them, and
raoist sugar and apple-;. Peel, core, and mince them
set them in a warm stove all night the day after drain ;
emiill. Boil the pugnr, allowing to every three pounds a
the giapes and lay them out to dry, first dusting them.
pint of water. Skim well, and boil pretty thick. Then
add the api'le'*, the gralod peel of one or two lemous, Greenoaoes. Weigh a pound of sugar to a pound of

and two or three pieces of white ginger. Boil till the fruit ; the largest when they begin to get soft are the

apples fall, and look clear and yellow. Apples pre- best ; split them, and take out the kernels and stew
pared in this way will kec-p for years. them in part of tlie sugar, take out the kernels from the
shells and blanch them; the next day strain off the
To Prkservr Crab-Apples. Take off the stem and syrup and boil it with the remaining sugar about ten
core them with a penknife, without cutting them open;
minutes; skim it and add the fruit aud kernels, skim it
weigh a pound of white sugar for each pound of pie-
uutil clear, then put it into small pots with syrup and
pared fruit pat a teacup of water to each pound of nugar;
;
kernels.
put it over & moderate fire. When the sugar is all dis-
(lolved and hot, put the apples in let them boil gently ;
To Preserve Oranges. Rasp or cut the oranges in
scallops with a pen-knife and throw them into water;
until they are clear, ihea skim them out, and spread
change it once a day for three days, then boil them till
them on flat di&Ues. Boil the syrup until it is thick put ;

tender enough to run a wheat-straw through, then put

the fruit in whatever it is to be kept, and, when the syrup
is cooled and settled, pour it carefully over the fruit.
them into cold water until next day pulp and wipe ;

Slices of lemon boiled with the fruit may be considered

them very dry, have the syrup ready, boil them two or
three times till very clear, observing to put the syrup
an improvement. One lemon is enough for several
pounds of fruit. Crab-apples may be preserved whole, to them when cold, make it the same as for cucumbers.
;

with only half an inch of the stem on three-quarters ;

To Preserve Ora.voe Perl. Cut the orange in half,

of a pound of sugar for each pound of fruit. take out the pulp, put the peel in strong salt aud water
soak for three days repeat this throe times, then put
Applb Jelly. Pare quickly some highly-flavored
to ;

them on a sieve to dry take one pound of loaf sugar,

;

juicy apples of any kind, or of various kinds together ;

add to it a quart of spring water, boil it, skim it until
slice,without dividing them ; but first free them from
quite clear, let the peels simmer until they are quite
(he stalks aud eyes bhake out some of the pips and lay
;
transparent, and dry them before the fire. Take loaf
the apples evenly into very clean large stone jars, just
sugar with juht sufficient water to dissolve it; whilst
dipping an occasional layer into cold water as this is
the sugar is boiling put in tho peels, stirring contioually
doue, the better to preserve the color of the whole. Sec
until all the sugar is candied round them, then put tlicm
the jars into pans of water and boil the fruit slowly
to dry, either before the fire or in the oven, and wheu
until it is quite suft, then turn it into a jelly-bag or
perfectly dried, put them by for use.
cloth, and let the juice all drop from it. Weigh, and
boil it for ten minutes, then draw it from the fire, and To Keep Pears. Choose the soundest pears, poel and
stir into it, uutil it is entirely dissolved, twelve ouuces cut them into quarters, take out the pips, and put the
of sugar to the pound and quarter (or pint) of juice. pieces into bottles. If the pears are intended for dessert,

Place the preserve again over the fire, and stir it without one boiling is sufficient, but if fur cooking, they mut

intermission, except to clear off the scum, until it has boil five or six times ; should tlie fruit thus bottled have
boiled from eight to ten minutes longer, for otherwise fallen from the tree, instead of being gathered, they will

it will jelly on the surface with the scum uponit, which require a quarter of an hour boiling.
it will then be difficult to remove, as when touched it

will break and fall into the preserve. The strained juice COXTRIBUTED RECEIPTS.
of one small lemon to the pint of jelly should be added Is a recent number of the Book we inquired for a re-
two or three minutes before it is poured out, and the ceipt for making "Old-fashioned Connecticut Wedding-
rind of one or two. cut very thin, may be simmered in Cake." We
have received the two following, and we
the juice before the sugar is added ; but the pale, delicate return thanks to Miss U. X. C., of Boston, and Mrs.
otir
color of the jelly will be injured by t-io much of it, aud A. H. C, of Forrestville, N. Y., for them.
many persons would altogether prefer the pure flavor
Old CositRCTiccT Bridecake. Eighteen pounds of
of the frnit.
flour, ten pouuds brown, nine pounds
of sugar, good
Red Grape Jellt. Strip from some fine
their stalks bnttor, eighteen eggs, eleven nutmegs, five quarts of
ripe black cluster grapes, aud utir them with a wooden new milk, one quart distillery, or good bouitmade
94 godey's lady's book and magazine.

yeast (brewers' yeast is too bitter), tea pounds of fruit, MISCELLANEOUS.

raisins, carrants, and citron, if liked, one ounce mace,
A CnEAP AND Phtlo.?ophical Ornament. Fill a clear
one quart wine, one pint braody. glass bottle with distilled water, in which dissolve some
Old Connecticut Election Cake. Eighteen pounds sugar of lead, about a penny-worth to half a pint of
flour,nine pounds good brown sugar (it makes this water. Insert a scrap of sheet zinc into the cork, long
kind of cakes more moist), nine pounds butter, ten eggs, enough to reach half way down the bottle when the
three pints fresh yeast (distillery or homemade), nine coik is in ; the lower part of the zinc may be cut into
pints new milk, two ounces nutmegs, two ounces mace, two or three forks and twisted like the branches of a
some cinnamon, if liked (cinnamon is not in the origi- tree. The strip of metal is no sooner immersed in the
nal receipt it can be added in any; I usually put it solution than the latter begins to act chemically upon it,
in), Currants and citron may
nine pounds of raisins. and delicate feathery crystals of lead will cover the
be added, if one please but usually currants are not
;
whole of the submerged portion. The deposit and
used in this. Eight wineglasses each of sherry or Ma- growth of the lead may be watched with a magnifying
deira wine and brandy. Currant wine will not do in glass, and will continue to increase for some hours, and
cake. It makes it heavy. can only be stopped by carefully pouring out the solu-
These quantities will make eighteen or twenty loaves, tion and replacing it with distilled water ; it will, how-
and as it is too much for an ordinary family, I have re- ever, cease of itself when all the lead is deposited. The
duced the quantity of Election Cake, which will make result looks like an inverted tree or bush, with thick
four large-sized loaves. metallic foliage, glistening as the light happens to fall
A Small Quantity op Election- Cakk. Two and a upon it. It need scarcely be remarked that sugar of lead
quarter pounds of flour, eighteen ounces butter, eighteen is poisonous to swallow.
ounces sugar, a and half of good fresh yeast (as
gill How TO a Double From a Single Flower,
Know
directed in the foregoing receipts), four and a half gills BEFORE THE BLOSSOM OPENS. The usual Way of ascer.
of new milk, two nutmegs, two eggs, balf an ounce taining this is by comparing the buds, those of the dou-
mace, two pounds raisins (stoned aud chopped a little), ble flowers being more globular and larger than the
one wineglass of sherry or Madeira wine, one ditto of single ones. But the most simple and unerring test is
brandy. In every kind of cake as much fruit can be to cut the bud through the middle, when the single
used as one chooses. flower will be seen folding around the stamens; the
Direct io7is/o}- MdkingtJtese Cnkes.The night previous double will be all folds and no stamens.
and all the yeast, and all the
to baking, take all the flour, How to Stop Blood. Take the fine dust of tea, or the
milk (if warm from the cow it is sufficient, if not, must scrapings of the inside of tanned leather bind it upon ;

be warmed some), part of the sugar and part of the the wound closely, and blood will sonn cease to flow.
butter. Work it well together, and turn a pan over it, After the blood has ceased to flow, laudanum may be
and let it rise. In the morning it will be light. Then applied to the wound. Due regard to these instructiona
take the remainder of the sugar, butter, spices, liquor, will save agitation of mind and running for a surgeon,
and eggs, and work well together as for some other who, prohably, will make no better prescription if
cake, then put it all into the cake; put together the present.
night before, and beat it well together for some time. Take one ounce of spermaceti, one ounce
Pomatum.
Cover it, and let it rise again. After it is light, work in
of castor oil, four ounces of olive oil, aud two penny-
the frnit lightly, aud put and let it stand
it in the tins,
worth bergamot, aud melt them together in a pot,
of
a short time, then put it in the oven, and bake. After
placed in boiling water, stirring the mixture all the
it is baked, it is to be frosted, if one please. I have
while when thoroughly mixed, pour the mixture into
;

given thefull directions, as those that are not acquainted

pots while hot.
with making cannot have good luck unless it is made
Permanent Ink for marking Ln?EH. Take of lunar
right. These are valuable receipts, and the best in one drachm
caustic (now called nitrate of silver), ;
existeoce.
weak solution of tincture of galls, two driichms. The
Judgment must be used in all cake making, and these
cloth must be wetted first with the following liquid,
cakes roust not be kept too or t'<o cold. Thoy arewarm
viz., salt of tartar, one ounce; water, one ounce and a
often kept too warm
makes the butter oily, and
; that
must be made perfectly dry before it is writ-
half, and it
scalds the whole, and makes it sonr, and the fault is in
ten upon.
the receipt. There is no fault in these. Mrs. A. H. C.
Forrestville, Ghautauque County, N. Y. To Wash Black or Colored Silks of a Fast Color.
Make a lye of soft soap by warming it in a pipkin with
Old-fashioned Connecticut Wedding-Cake. Four sufficient water to dissolve it, but do not let it boil ; then
pounds of sifted flour, two pounds of butter, two and add about half-a-pint of whiskey (to half-a-pound of the
three-quarter pounds of sugar, two cents' worth of yeast, soap), and let it cool. Have a tub of cold water, and
eight eggs, glass of white brandy, raisins, citron, mace, take each breadth separately, and rinse well in the water
nutmeg, and any other spice to the taste. but do not rub it, and then spread it evenly upon a
Direction.^ ftir Mucing. Take all the flour, half the board or table, dip a piece of flannel in the mixture of
liuiter, half the sugar, a little milk, and all the yeast, soap and whiskey, and rub thoroughly over both sides
aud mix like biscuit dough. When perfectly light, add of the silk rinse again in clean cold w;iter (but great
;
?at

the rest of the batter, and sugar, with eight eggs, and care must be taken to cleanse it from the soap), theu
When throw it over a line in the open air to drain, but not

i
pet it to rise again. light the second time, add
the spice and brandy, and half a teaspoonful of soda dry, and, by the time you have completed the washiigfj
mixed well. Paper and butter the tins, and let it stand the first piece will be ready to iron, which must be do,

in them half an hour. Bake in a quick oven. This with a hot iron as hot as would be required to iron
will make six loaves. It is much improved by frosting. piece of linen. The result will be that the silk will
Miss H. N. C, Boston. look equal to new.


Htcrs' Kabh*
WOMAN: betrothed as she was to a poor carpenter, with a life of
IS HER PERFECTION. humble toil and obscurity beforo them, have dreamed
of the glory awiiitiug her. Slio had, in perfect truth
Blessed art Ihoa among wouieu. St. Luke, I. 28.
and humility, boon ready to do all the good that offered,
MoRALcharsicterderldPS the de:<tiny of mankind. Good- performing from her heart every duly of her lot in the
ness, resulting from obedience t> God's laws, itt the test fear and love of tho Lord God of Israel ; thus it was that
of all moral virtue. Ko iudividual perfectncss caa bo she "found favor" in His sight. Yet when the angel
reached without this obedience, and no progress in had assured her she should bo tho blessed mother of the
what ia called 'civilization" cun be permanent or really promised Messiah, aud had answered her simple, child-
improve bamanity, which is not founded on and sus-
like question "How shall this be?" she instantly
tained by moral goodness. believed, and accepted the high mission.
When the world has lost the sense of Ood's holiness,* Zacharias did not believe the aunouncement, made to
and of Hia requirement of holine^'S (or goodness in mou), hira by Gabriel, of the birth of John. The priest waa
It is fiist ripeuini; for destruction, ^or can any human
righteous as a man is righteous but the diUerence be- ;

device long stay its downward progress. The reintro- tween the masculine and the feminine nature is strik-
ductlou of this moral element of character must be the ingly illustrated in these two examples. Zttchari/ts
Influence of Divine Power in qualifying Ilis chosen was efirtJiward in his doubts, his re/isf>n: Mary was
agents for the work. Thus Noah was saved to begin heavenward in her faith, her feelings. He believed not
anew God's plan of salvation; Abraham was chosen; the angel, and was struck dumb: she believed, and
Moaefl raised up ; and Cyrus, the Gentile, called when "the Holy Ghost overshadowed her!"
the Hebrew people had too nearly lost the idea of Great indeed must have been her faith, when it wholly
moral goodness to strive for their own deliverance from overcame all fear of man, all selfish considerationB.
captivity. She was betrothed tlierefore not only ber reputation,
;

At the time when Mary of Nazareth was born, the but her life would be placed in jeopardy, if she were
whole world lay beneath the darkest shadows of evil. proven to have been unfaithful to her plighted husband.
Sins, crimes, and wretchedness filled tho earth. The When assured that she should "bear a Son," who would
moral power of woman was nearly destroyed by the not be Joseph's son, it might seem natural that some
general licentiousness; all reverence and fear of the fears for her own safety would have clouded her faith.
true God, and all faith in bis promises wnie lost or But no; her humble, trusting reply was:
derided, even among his cho-^eu people. The selfish "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it nnto me
passions predominated everywhere; and the universal according to thy word !"'

corruptions of (society seemed like a pall over the face of Worthy was Maiy the Virgin to be the mother of our
the dead to shut out even the hopo of reviving life.
Saviour that the human nature He, who waa very God,
;

Man's power to sustain the Good and the True being took on Himself, should be derived from \ieT, Vie obedient
thus overborne, woman was called to help in the min- woman. Thus is the high aud holy duty of her own
istry of redemptinu. sex indicated by Sljry's example to receive the pro-
When the .^dl'-^I Gabriel was sent from Heaven to an- mises of God in trusting faith, and transmute these, a.<t

nounce that Divine message of mercy, the rekindling of it were, like living principles into tho souls of their
the pure light of goodness before that sinful and miser- sons.
able generation, did the holy watchers on the crystal The next event in Mary's life is ber meeting with
walls of Paradise wonder as they marked the swift her cousin Elizabeth this scene, as described in the
;

inossenger of gmce, and saw him pass by the abodes of
the rich, the learned, the great, the mighty men of
renown, and never stoop his wing till he entered the
humblo home of a young and lowly-born maiden ? And
yet,has it not ever seemed to men, from that age to this,
an astonishing wonder, if not a wrong, that tliey had no
part nor lot in Christ's " manifestation in the flesh?"
" Hail, highly favored, the Lord is
simple style of divine narrative, is one of the mo^t beau-
tiful and sublime exhibitions of piety and inspiration to
be found in ibe world's history. And Mary's song of
triumphant faith, love, and thanksgiving is the sweet-
est, purest, and most perfect lyrical production of tho
human mind. (See Luke i. 46.)
The mental endowments of woman will never atone
with thee: blessed yet we are glad to
for any hick of moral excellence ;

art thou among women!"' Such was tho salutation of know that the m'jther of our Saviour possessed the
the Angel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary. higliest order of genius that whinh can comprehend the
To be the mother of " Shiloh" had, donbtless, been the beantifid in the true and the good, and give Jitting ej-prts-
hope and fervent prayer of many a pious mother In sUinn to these mtbtiine idt'is and pious as])irfiti<ms.
Israel from the time of Jacob's prediction. Isaiah had From the birth of her first-born, ber holy Son, Mary
prophesied that "a Virgin shall conceive and bear a seems to have bpen absnrbed In Hl high destiny. We
Son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which is, only see her when ministering to Hira. His nature
being interpreted. God with us ;" yet it is not probable and His offices were made known to her by the angel;
tliat any Jewish maiden had ever hoped to be thus mir-
that oho applied the term "my Saviour" to God, in her
aculously endowed with the privilege of motherhood. song of Uianksgiving, indicates that she was tlie first
And Mary of Nazareth could never, in ber lowly estate, disciple of Jesus Christ. And she kept " all these say-
* Romans, Chaptera ings in her heart." A woman's heart held the mighty
S'^e St PanPs Eplstlo to the 1st
and 2d particularly. secret of Divine Wisdom that the Mkssiah had come!
05
96 godky's lady's book akd magazine.

Mary was " highly favored" in her home life aa well BORROWED FEATHERS.
as in her heavenly destiny.Her husband was "a just Certain pretenders to literary talent seem to be af-
man," What a volume of happy days for ihe wife ia flicted with a disease that, for want of a definite name.
contained in those two words When, obedient to the
!
we will call themania of appropriaHun. When a real
angel of the Loi d, Joseph took Mary to be his wife, with poet has won popular applause, these pretenders to
what careful tenderness he seems to have watched over genius endeavor either to imitate or plagiarize a portion
her and her precious Son The offices of provider, pro-
!
of the successful poem ; and, in some instances, they
tector, and lawgiver were as fully intrusted to Joseph even appropriate or claim the whole. The young lady
aa to any husband he had the warning of dan^'er, and
;
who announced "Nothing ti>
herself as tbe writer of
took all the task of providing for their flight into Wear," isa distinguished instance of this kind otmnnuf.
B&ypt the return seems to have been left entirely to
;
The foolishness of the pretender is even more pitiable
his careand judgment. In all these scenes, Joseph was than his falsehood. His borrowed plumes are only dis-
the devoted, loving, and faithful husband; Mary the played for a moment, to be torn away with tbe contempt
obedient, loving, trusting wife. That she truly loved of all classes of readers, for none like to have their sym-
and reverenced her husband, and that their hearts and pathies trifled with or an impostor gain their honest
minds were in tender sympaliiy, was manifested when tribute of praise. The real author is never injured in
"the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem, and these cases on the contrary, a poem worth stealing, or
;

Joseph and his mother knew it not." Together they imitating, is immediately invested with superior merits,
8earched and grieved and when He was found, the
;
all its readers seem ready for the duty of guarding the
mother gave to Joseph the first place in all theii' cares fame of the genuine poet, and really become his warm
for her Son: "Thy father and I have sought thee sor- friends.
rowing." We have lately had an experience of this kind of popu-
Tbe domestic life at Nazareth seems to have been an lar feeling, which has
quite interested us. In our long
example of conjugal love, parental care, and filial obe- course of editorial duty, we have had many scores of
dience, which would, if universal, almost restore to imitations and plagiarisms sent us, but only in one or
earth the lost happiness of Eden.
two instances have we been deceived into accepting and
Two pictures of the human mother and her Divine publishing the stolen article. One of these appeared iu
Son are shrined in the sacred Book during His man's
;
our April number; see page 365. The poem "Time,".
life on earth tbeir souls met and mingled, once in joy,
by E (very modest to give only one initial), is tbe
and once in sorrow the beginning of His miracles and
;
production of Benj. F. Taylor, Esq., formerly known as
the closing of His ministry.
editor of the Chicago Journal, and really is worth re-
claiming. The purloiner did not take tbe whole, there-
There is a marriage in Cana, of Galilee; the mother,
and Jesus, and His disciples are all there. Wjue, tbe fore we will give the poem, as it deserves to be celebrated
type, when rightly used, of innocent joy iu God's eai tbly foriU beauty of sentiment, as well as for the interest it
blessings, is wanted. The mother of Jesus told her Son,
has excited among the friends of the poet. We have,
having perfect faith that He could supply the need.
Jesus replied: "Wumiin, what have I to do with half a Ecoie of letters on our table, some from ladies, as
thee? mine hour is not yet come." we judge, each eloquently pleading the right of the
Still the mother's heart was not grieved nor discour- We
author to his own creations. are gratified by this
aged by the reply. Her faith in God was shown by the
care she took to htlp her Divine Son, when His humnn our Book, and even tbe plagiarist maybe
interest in
nature was thus, as it were, shrinking from tbe awful pardoned on the plea that "all is well that ends well."
burden of the world's sins and woes to be laid on him ;

and her faith prevailed. When she said to tbe servanLs: THE LONG AGO; OR, THE RIVER OF TIME.
" Do whatsoever Hesaith unto you, "the darkness passed
from His soul He irave forth His command: "Fill the
;
BY BENJ. F. T A YLOB.
water-pots with water." It is done. "And the pale
Oh, a wonderful stream is tlie river Time,
water saw God and blushed." What a triumph wns
As it runs through tbe realm of tears,
this to the power of maternal influence! to the gift of
With a faultless rliythm and a musical rhyme,
insight or haimony with heavenly think.'s which the
mind of a true, pure, and pious woman possesses! Even
And a broader sweep and a surge sublime,
As it blends with the Oceau of Years.
the Son of Gud, when He came in the form of man to
redeem the world, was to be subjf>ct to this influence; How the winters are drifting like flakes of snow I

only at His mother's per'^nasionsand with hersympatby And the summers like buds between,
did He begin His miracles. And the year in the sheaf so they come and they go
On the river's breast, with its ebb and flow.
There is darkness over Jerusalem: but the tear- As it glides in the shadow and sheen.
swollen eyps of Mary the mother of Christ can see Hitn
through the gloom. Stie was near Him in His last There's a magical Isle up the river Time
agony; though the dreadful scene was "a sword to Where the softest of airs are playing ;

pierce through her own heart," yet Mary, the pious There 's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime,
mother, was near the cross of Christ. And a song as sweet as a vesper chime.
We see in this the unconquerable power of her love And tbe Junes with the Roses are staying.
for Jesus, and her perfect faith in His Messiahship, even
when He had been rejected of men, scourged and cruci- And tbe name of this Isi.e is the Long Ago,
fied And his last throb of human affection was for her; And we bury our treasures there ;

There are brows of beauty and bosoms of enow

!

thp dying Saviour provided for his mother!

One last gleam of light falls on the picture of this
perfection of womanhood. The eleven Apostles aie
gathered in an upperchamber at Jerusalem "and these
all continued with one accord in prayer and supplica-
tion with tbe women and Mary the Mother of Je^nts."
Mary's youth was distinguished by the favor of God
her maturity by active piety and faithfulness in all lier
duties; her aye by fervent faith in Christ, and holy
communion with His first Church on earth.
What Mary paid, prophetically, of herself has been
They are heaps of dust, but we laved them so!
There are trinkets and tresses of hair.
; There are fragments of song that nobody sings,
And a part of an infant's prayer;
There 's a lute unswept and a harp without strings,
; There are broken vows and pieces of rings,
And the garments that She used to wear.
There are hands that are waved when the fairy shore
By the Mirage is lifted in air ;

fulfilled: " All generations shall call me blessed for He ;

And we sometimes bear, through the turbulent roar,
that is mighty hath done me great things, and holy is Sweet voices we heard in tbe days gone before,
His name!" When the wind down the river is fair.
 HEALTH DEPARTMENT. 97

Ob, remembered for aye, be tbo blessed Isle, tors are from all points of the compass. If an article is
All tho iiay of our lil'o till ni^'ht good, well written, and we want it, then it is always
WUea ilii> I'veuiu^' C'jiiioft wiib iis beautiful smile,
And our i>ye)t Hre t-losiDg to slumbor awbilo, accepted. Your article is declined.
Uay tbat "UKEb.vn'uoD" uI'Suul be hi nigbt

OBITUARY. ptaltlj Jtpartnunt.

We have the sorrowful task uf recording here, where
the QOtice of **
Miss Hule's School" has eo long appeared, CBILUBEIf's FOOD.*
that her duties on earth are closed.
This Is a subject of literally vital interest to every

Hi8S Sarah JoshPiiA Hale died May 3d, saddcoly at family in the land more especially in largo towns and
;

the last, altbough lior health liad be<^u failing for some cities, where want of facilities and inducements to
the
months; still she bad been able to manage all the con- out-door activities makes it absolut'^ly indispensable to
cerns of the school till the last day of her
Eudeared life. adopt some system in reference to the times, quantities,
to all who knew and greatly beloved by the young
her, and qualities of the food to be taken by children for the ;

hearts <be bad u^^efully trained to occupy woman's trno want of attention to which things multitudes die early,
place in the world, w bile earnestly seek! ug the heaveuly while other multitudes, not as large, however for half
iuheritauce, she was, in the prime of womanhood, taken of all that are born die before the age of eighteen years,

from this world by her Almighty Father to enjoy the re- in consequence mainly of inattention to the habits and
ward of tbe redeemed iu Heaven. The mourning hearts health become dyspeptic, scrofulous, or consumptive

she has left bubiud fi-^el that her immortal gain is to them before the age of twenty-five, many of whom are des-

an irreparable loss, and that as daugbter, si.<ter, teach- tined to a life of wearine-^s, of painful toil, And of

er, and friend, her loss cannot but bo mourned deeply wasting efforts for a living through sickness, and dis-
and long. ease, and chronic sufferings.

In our uext number a friend has promised to farnish On fifth year, or sixth at farthest, a child
entering the
a sketch which may be more satisfactory, than this brief can be very easily habituated to eat at three regular times
notice, to the mauy pupils who have enjoyed the benefits a day, at intervals of five or six hours, with notbing
of Uiss Hale's in>tiuction. whatever between, except, at a little past mid-way, a
single good ripe apple, or a piece of cold, dry, coarse
bread may bo allowed to the less vigorous.
Common Ses5e, axd How to Gain' rr. In an excellent A second consideration is quantity. If children are
Essay on "The Mistakes of Literary Men," Professor taught to eat slowly, in loving good-nature as will be
John S. Hart makes the following wise suggestions: the case if they are let alone by their parents, and not
"This habitual iutercourse with men aud women, and put in an ill-humor by incessant reprimands and innu-
thoughts a lid tilings outside of your own little circle, is merable rules and regulations about a hundred and one
the true generator of common sense. How often do we
see men of preat ability and of prodigious learning, be- contemptible trifles
they may generally be allowed, for
came, for the want of a few grains of common sense, breakfast and dinner, to eat as long and as much asthey
mere ciphers in ibe community. You see a Professor in want, only if all the hard food is cut up carefully with
the lecture-room, whose kuowledtje iu bis department
is of the very first order, yet utterly powerless in disci- a sharp knife into pieces not larger than a pea. This
pline, and consequently utterly useless asan instructor. should be conscientiously and always attended to by one
He has no common sense, no tact His talents, conse- of the parents, for it cannot be safely intrusted to one
quently, are all thrown away. His pupils learn from
him nothing, but the habit of insubordination, and skill hireling ont of a million parental affection only will do
;

in the arts of unraaaly annoyance. We want among it as it ought to be done.

US, undoubtedly, profound scholarship that original, At supper, children should always be controlled let ;
independent knowledge, which comes only from patient,
protracted study in particular lines of investigation. observation determine how much a child will eat and
But we do not want men of merely one idea. We do leave something over, and tlien allow thereafter cer-
not want the mere book-worra."
tainly not over two-thirds of that amount.

Pamphlets. We have the Reports of the New-England
And now as to that most important of allitems qual-
ity of food for growing children. The instinct for
and the Pennsylvania Female Medical Colleges, both of
sweetness Is iuappeasable ; without it, any child, how-
which we intend to notice next month. the two
ever healthy, will soon die, and, fortunately,
Other notices are, unavoidably, postponed till the
things which children most love everywhere, and of
next number. and will always relish
which they never could get tired,

To orB CORBE9P0NDR5T8. The foUowing articles are
accepted: "Uncle Hugh" "Heroism" "Eldorado**
and "The Old Maple."
The following are not needed: " A Storm at Sea"
"The Soldier's Fate" "Columbia" "England in a
Fury" "Debt and Danger'' "Lady May" "Admis-
sion to the Bar" "The Sacrifice" (wo are sorry to dis-
appoint the writer, but the story
literature is not and cannot be suc-
an easy path of
cessfully pursued without greater effort than young
when hungry, are milk and bread, and these furnish as
much sugar as any child needs. But no child can ever
grow up healthy and handsome without good teeth, and
as the permanent ones begin to be made from the fourth
year, their food should contain in great abundance those
elements which are needed for sound, durable teeth.
The bony part of the tooth contains seventy-one per
is not well written; cent of lime, the enamel ninety-four per cent. Out of
life,
one hundred parts of the finest, whitest flour, only six
per cent is lime of one hundred parts of flour made of
;

ladies are willing to make)

"Early Friendships" the whole grain, there is twenty-five per cent of lime,

"The Money Chest'' " My own little Girl" "Painting or four times as much and no other general article of
;

asan Art for Ladies" "Idle Words" and "The Gift."

Other MSS, on hand will be reported next month.
E. 0.
We have no favorite localities. Our contribu-
* From "Hall's Journal of Health." W. W. Hall,
Editor. Term<! one dollar a year: sintrle numbers ten
cents. Office of pttblication 8.31 Broadway, New; York.

f'OL. Lxvn.


98 godey's lady's book and magazine.

food contains aoftbing like as much lime as common From J. B. Lippikcott & Co., Philadelphia:
brown bread. Therefore, it is a reason-dble conclusion CHAMBERS' ENCYCLOPEDIA OF USEFUL KNOW-
that if children were to live largely on flour made of LEDGE FOR THE PEOPLE. Parts 61 and 62 of this
the whole product of the grain, in the shape of well- valuable work have been received.
made and well-baked brown bread, very much would THE BOOK OF DAYS. Part 13.
be doue toward securing them durable and beautiful
teeth.
Wlien children are from home, let them live as others
From Harper & Brothers, New York, through T. B.
;
Peterson k Brothers, Philadelphia:
when at home their bread should be uniformly made of
the whole product of the grain grouud, from their third
THE INVASION OF THE CRIMEA: its Origin, and
an Account of its Progress down to the deaih of Lord
to their fifteenth year, to be eaten with half a pint of milk
Riiglan. By Alexander William Einglake. Volume I.
for breakfast and supper, adding some berries fiom June
This is a full and minute account of the Crimean war,
until September, and one or two baked apples the re-
written with evident care, and from an abumiance of
mainder of the year, adding a teaspoon or two of sugar.
Such a supper or breakfast will always "taste good" to
reliable material. The book is, however, intended for
the especial glorification of Lord Raglan, and he is
them. Such a bill of fare with two or three variations
brought forward on all occasions in the position of a
a week, and allowing them to eat what they want for
hero. Though the book is more peculiarly interesting
dinner, will pretty surely, other things being equal, give
to Eoglishmeo, it will, undoubtedly, fitid many readers
good health, good teeth, a good constitution, and a good
old age. on this side the Atlantic.
A FIRST FRIENDSHIP. A Tale. This is a novel
which it gives us pleasure to commend. Its tone is
a healthy one, and
fitnarg |totires. its incidents sufficiently exciting to
engage the reader, while it is far from being of the sen-
sational school. Its theme is that pure and rare friend-
ship that "loveth at all times."
Owing to the immense increase in the price of books,
A DARK NIGHT'S WORK. A Novel. By Mrs. Gas-
we will not receive further orders to send by mail. It
kill,author of " Sylvia's Lovers," *' Mary Barton," etc.
never was a source of profit to us, but generally a loss,
Mrs. Gaskill, usually so quiet in her style, has, in this
on account of the postage we had to pay. work, attempted a sensational novel. And in this,
though she may not have entirely failed, neither has
Trom Geo. W. Childs, Philadelphia: she quite succeeded. Spite of an excellent plot and well

THE GEOLOGICAL EVIDENCES OF THE ANTI- drawn characters, the story drags a little, and would be
QUITY OF MAN with Remarks on ThtoHes of the Ori-
;
none the worse for condensation. Nevertheless, this
gin, of Species by Variation. By Sir Charles Lyell, talented lady's works are always worthy of peiusal.

F. R. S., author of " Principles of Geology," " Elements HARPERS PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE GREAT
of Geology," etc. etc. This book enters deeply and ex- REBELLION. We have received Nos. 1 and 2 of this
tensively into all the ramifications of the subject of serial. This promises to be a work of both interest and
which it treats. The author proceeds with commendable importance, while its portraits of distinguished generals

caution over his ground, rejecting all evidence in favor and statesmen on both sides render it particularly
of his theory which hears the least suspicion of incredi- valuable.
bility ; while he uses the rest so boldly as to render his SEA-KINGS AND NAVAL HEROES. A Bodkf(yr Boys.
conclusions almost beyond cavil. All persons of intel- By John G. Edgar, author of " History for Boys," " Foot-
ligence will be interested in this work. prints of Famous Men," etc. In this book we have brief
THE AMERICAN PUBLISHERS' CIRCULAR AND yet spirited sketches of RoUo the Norman, Hasting, Sir

LITERARY GAZETTE is a new and handsome publica- Francis Drake, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Nelson, and a
tion of ninety-six pages, which is to be issued semi- number of other distinguished Naval Heroes. In subject

monthly at $2 per annum, by the publisher G. W. Childs. and style it is well calculated to please those for whom
It is is-<ued simultaneously in Philadelphia, New York, it is intended. The volume contains a number of illus-

and Boston, and, besides giving all the important lite- trations.

rary information respecting current literature and au- A FIRST LATIN COURSE. Comprehending Gram-
thors, gives a list of all the works published in this mar, Vehctus, and Exercise- Book. With Vocabularies.
country during the la>^t year, with announcement of By William Smith, LL. D., author of "A History of
those which are to be published. To publishers of the Greece," " A Classical Dictionary," etc. Revised by H.
country, this will be a very useful publication as well Drisler, A. M., Professor of Latin in Columbia College,
New York editor of " Liddell and Scott's Greek Lexi-
as an interesting volume. It will astonish the trade in ;

Europe, being much superior to any publication of a con," etc.

similar character in Loudon or Paris. The publisher C. SALLUSTI SRISPI Catilina et Jugurtha. Recog-
may well be congratulated upon his enterprise, good novit Geo. Long, M. A. One of Harper's series of Greek

taste, and tact. and Latin Texts.

From Peterson & Beothers, Philadelphia: From D. Appleton & Co,, New York, through W. P.
ANNETTE; or, The Lndtj of ike Pearls. By Alexander Hazard, Philadelphia:
Dumas (the Younger), author of "Caroille, the Camelia THE PENTATEUCH AND BOOK OF JOSHUA Oriti-
Lady." Translated by Mrs. W. R. A. Johnson. caVy Examined. By the Right Rev. John William
Colenso, D. D., Bishop of Natal. Part II. We prefer
From Blancbard & Lea, Philada., Publishers: not to enter into the discussion concerning the merits or
THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF THE MEDICAL demerits of this volume, as it is a matter of too serious
SCIENCES. Edited by Isaac Hays, M. D. consideration for a hastily formed or briefly expressed
 LITERARY NOTICES. 99

opioioD. Oar readers must examiae It for themselves, complete Compendium of Stamp Duties, etc., and the
or let it aloDe, at their option ; fur it is a buok that ib Decisions of the Commissioner of Internal Revenue. By
likelj to try religious faith uroogly. . 11. Hall, Washington, D. C.
THE CiENTLE SKEPTIC; or, Ensnys and Converea-
tioTis of a VoutUry JuMict on the A lUlunticity and Truth- From Carter & Brothers, New York, tbrouirh Mah-
fulness nftJuOld Tegument Rfcttrd, Edited by the Rev. TiBN & Brothkr. Philadelphia:
C. Walworth. The next book we find before us, whose "I WILL:" Bciny tfui D*ierminations of the 3fen of
title we have just given, is one of the several which Ood, as found in sonie of the " I Wilis" of tfte Ptalnis.
Bishop Colenso's recent works have called out. It Is By Rev. Philip Bcooett Power, M. A. Those who have
intended not only to cefute the arguments and point out read the "I Wills of Clirist," by this author, need no
the fallacies of that reverend gentleman's Biblical criti- other commendation of this work. It is a roiiKiikuble
cisms, but to strengthen wavering faith, wherever found, merit iu the pruductions of Mr. Power that hi-* books
in the truth of Revehttion. interest the miud by their practical wisdom, while the
A TEXT-BOOK OF PEXMAXSHIP. Containing all heart is wrapt and moved with the devotional ardor of
the Establiiibed Rules and Principles of the Ait, with the Christian sentiment.
Rules for Puuctuation, Directions and Forms for Letter- FAMILY SERMONS. By Horatius Boner, D. D. The
Writing to which are added a brief History of Writing,
; eminent writer has made his name
poetical genius of this
and Hints on Writing Materials, etc. etc. For Teacher* widely known. His " Hymns of Faith aud Hope" will
and Pupils. Adapted for use in Schools, Academies, aud be fitting companions for these Sermons, which are full
Commercial Colleges, in connection with any well-ar- of the pathos aud sublimity of " the Gospel of the grace
ranged Series of Copy Books. By H. W. Ellsworth, of God.
'

Teacher of Penmanship in the Public Schools of New THE SUNDAY EVENING BOOK: Short Papers for
Torb City, and for several years Teacher of Book-Keep- Family Rtwiing. a rare gem of its
This little book is

iug. Penmanship, and Commercial Correspondence, in kind, as six of the most distinguished religious writers
Bryant, Stratton, k Co.'s Chain of Mercantile Colleges. of Scotland have contributed to make its worth, beauty,
and piety. It has a fitting companion iu

THE THOUGHTS OF GOD. By the Rev. J. R. Mac-

From Dick & Fitzgerald, New York, through Peter-
duff. The two b.)oks should be iu every Sunday-.School,
son & BftOTnEBS. Philadelphia:
and in every family. These editions are beautifully
DARRELL MAKKHAM; or. The Cnptnin of the Vul-
prepared.
ture. By Miss M- E. Braddon. authorof " Aurora Floyd,"
MINISTERING CHILDREN. A Tale. By Maria Louisa
etc. Miss Braddon has rung a fourth change upon her
Charlesworth. With illustrations. Two volumes. The
favorite plot, in which ehe makes her hero or heroine a
work has already a wide popularity in our land but ;

bigamist. Though this plot has long since lost its

this beautiful edition will fiud a warm welcome. For
novelty, we must yet give her credit for ingenuity and
the young, there can hardly a book be named which
originality for the variety which she succeeds in intro-
deserves a higher commendation. It begins by interest-
ducing in it. She seems, too, to be capable of but two
ing the child in works of love and mercy ; the pleasure
conceptions of female character: one, a commanding
of doing good is s<.> well described, or rather shown, that
beauty, with flashing black eyes aud imperious will,
few of any age, who begin the story, will put it by till
after which Aurora Floyd and Olivia Marmaduke are
read to the close.
patterned ; the other is an insipid, doll-like creature,
with blue eyes, fair complexion, and hair '* like a pale
golden halo'' around her face. Lady Aud ley. Lady Lisle, From Leonard Scott & Co., New York:
Lucy Floyd, and the heroine of the present novel, Mrs. THE BRITISH REVIEWS AND BLACKWOOD'S
Duke, are of this type. With her masculine characters MAGAZINE. Among all the aids of literature we Ameri-
she is somewhat more happy, at least presenting us with cans possess, no one is so accessible and useful as the
a greater variety. This, her
latei^t story, is perhaps the general information which is offered us in the republi-
best, though no character, either male or
it contain!^ cation" of the London, Edinburgh, A'orth British, and
female, that equals "Granville Varney," in "Lady lVestmin,ster Qmirterly Revievos. Those who wish to
Lisle." keep up with the age should read these works ladies ;

VICAR OF Wakefield. By Oliver Goldsmith. wh'i desire to be litm-ary would find a mine of informa-
We & Fitzgerald,
are glad to see that Messrs. Dick in tion in the Reviews, which would either greatly im-
their "
Hand and Pocket Library," are determined to prove their capacity for writing, or and this might be
number only sterling novels. the better part for themselves induce them to lay aside
their ideal fancies for some practical plan of doing good.

From These Reviews (the We^minster excepted) and the

Carleto!?, Ji'ew York, through Petbrsoit &
Bkothcrs, Philadelphia: Lady's Book are a living library for families; which
MY SOUTHERN FRIENDS. By Edmnnd Kirke, au- will do more than any other secular influence to diffuse
thor of "Among the Pines." This writer draws largely a hpalthy tone of thought aud correct views of life,
from his own experience at the South for characters and literature, and morals.

facts. Hedisplays intimate acquaintance with Southern

character, from the courteous aud hospitable planter, to From John BRADBrRx. N-^w York, through Peterpox
the colored dfpendentsof the household and plantation, & Brothers, Philadelphia:
and the miserable " clay-eaters" of North Carolina. He LEAVES FROM THE DIARY OP AN ARMY SUR-
has written a vigorous aud entertaining story, (hough GEON; or, Inciiients of Field, Camp, and Hoftjyifal Life.
fche narrative is rather loosely strung together, with By Thomas T. Ellis, M. D., Late Post-Surgeon at New
occasional discrepancies. Mr. Kirke succeeds far better York, and Acting Medical Director at White Honse, Va.
ia delineation thaa in cnnstrnction. Few recent publications will be more eagerly sought
THE NATIONAL TAX LAW, as Amended. With a for than this, as it touches the hearts of the people.
100 godet's ladt's book and magazine.

While giving a condensed record of events from the satirical." Such is the title of oar wood-cut for this
formation of the Army of the Potomac, it lifts the cur- month. It will be difficult for those who visit watering-
tain, and admits the reader to many thrilling Kcenes places, and see the variety of dresses worn there, to tell

among the woauded and dying soldiers. which is truth and which is satire in our picture.

Fashions from A. T. Stewart & Co. We print in this

From TrcKNOR & Fields, Boston, through T. B. Petek- number another of these splendid plates, and will have
SON & Brothers, Philadelphia: several in our next number. Other full length engrav-
THE EVERYDAY PHILOSOPHER IN TOWN AND ings and every variety of work for a lady will also be

COUNTRY. By the anthor of " Recreations of a Country found in July number.

Parson." This is another of those delightful produc- *' Garden Structures" in this number we think will be

tions of the quondam " Country Parson," which no one fouud very useful to our friends having places in the
can read without being charmed and profited. He is a country, who may wish to ornament them at a reason-
model essayist, investing the homeliest suhjects with able rate.
interest while his spiciest sayings have a flavor of truth
;
Our Contributors. Marion Harland, Miss Townsend,
that gives them a double relish. Miss Janvrin, Miss Frost, and Mary Formau each havd
ON LIBERTY. By John Stuart Mill. The subject of a contt'ibution in this number.
this book is civil or social liberty, which, after the in-
troduction, it treats, in as many chapters, from the fol- A Little Talk with our StrBSCRtBERa. We are wil-
lowing stand-points: " Liberty of Thought and Discus- ling and anxious to oblige, hut our time is valuable ; so
sion," "Individuality as one of the Elements of well- don't ask us to look over sixty-seven volumes for a par-
being," "Limits to the Authority of Society over the ticular receipt or a piece of poetry. Here is a sample:
Individual." concluding with "Applications." This is "Some time between the years 1S36 and 1S4.5, you pub-
a most masterly work, and well deserves the attention lished a piece of poetry addressed 'To a Rose.' Will
of all, of every nation, who prize the word " Liberty." you please send me the number containing the article.
I was once a subscriber, and probably will be again."

From T. O. H. P. Bcrxham, Boston, through J. B.

Now this is profitable a day spent in looking for a
& Co., Philadelphia:
LiPPiNcoTT
number that is to be sent gratis. We could multiply
SLAVES OF THE RING or, Befcn-e and ; After. By such cases, but this one is a sample of many others.

the author of "Grandmother's Money," "Under the

Spell," etc. Here we have a variation from the great We call attention to the advertisement of the Women's
Sanitary Committee on our cover for this mouth. We
mass which is crowded upon us a book really
of Action
novel and refreshing in character and aim. The chief ask tc it the attention of all who wi^h to contribute to

character of the book is Thirti^k, a man of strongly so useful and patriotic an institution.

marked characteristics, but who has been partly led and

partly driven by circumstances to evil. He is selfish,
Estlack's Diphtheria Pills. We take great pleasnre
cynicul, and passionate, and in every way far from being
in introducing these pills to our subscribers ; but we
would not do so if they were not strongly recommended
a pleasing character. Yet when the right moment ar-
rives, and his heart is touched, by mere strength of
by two gentlemen of the faculty whom we know well,
character he rises above Lis former self, and becomes a
and also know they would not recommend anything
that was not beneficial. They are useful in diphtheria,
true and good man. His opposite is Robert Genny,
sore throat, inflammation of the fauces, membranous
who. with natural predispositions to good, and with the
croup, enlarged tonsils, catarrh, influenza, asthma,
best of wives to aid him. yet goes to ruin through a too
hoarseness, and various other diseases of the throat.
generous and over-yielding character.
They are pleasant to the taste and are useful, in fact al-
most indispensable, to public speakers and singers for
clearing the throat and giving power to the voice. They
^obeu's Jnu-Cljitir. are manufactured by T. Estlack, Jr., corner of Eigh-
teenth and Market Streets, Philadelphia. Price 20 cents
per box.
GoDEY POR JrLT. Again wo greet you, our fair sub-
scribers. We now issue the first number of the Sixty- Old Prices. We trust that we shall soon be enabled
seventh Volume Lady's Book, and we assure you
of the to put our Book down to the old piice. If paper gets
that we are untiring in our endeavors to please. Do we down to the old standard, we certainly shall reduce our
fall oflFin our attractions? Look at this number. price.
"Grandfather's Portrait." An engraving which we
have no hesitation in saying cannot be equalled by any Books bt Mail. On account of the increase in the
magazine in this country. The little fellow who has price, we do not send any books by mail other than our
just scratched the outlines of his grandfather's portrait own publications.
on the slate, shows no symptoms of the conceit which
sometimes distinguishes young pretenders of artistic Academy of Fine Arts. The fortieth annual exhibi-
genius, but calmly awaits the verdict of the family who tion of the PennsylvaniaAcademy of Fine Arts is now
are scrutinizing the work irith ardent interest and open daily, and the collection of pictures, statuary, and
approval. The old gentleman himself is rather curious other works of art will be found eminently worthy of
and not altogether at ease regarding the liberty which, the attention of all who can admire the beau'.ifnl in art.
Duknown to himself, has been takeu with his face, and There is a superb marine painting, of large size, by
peers across the table to see h<iw he looks. Hamilton, which excites general attention, and will
Our Fashion-plate. It seems useless for us to say repay a visit. It is one of his peculiarly grand and im-
anything about this, as it speaks for itself. pressive eff'orts, with original ideas well developed, and
" Hats and Faces at a Watering-place. Truthful and striking effects portrayed with an adventurous hand.
 godey's arm-chair.
OCR MCSICAL COLUMX.
The IfftP ifufic^d Monthly. The third number of our
sew and beautiful periodiciil is now pnbllshcJ, coDtaio-
Ing a DOW autl cliariuia^ ballad by Balfe a new Polka ;
Scbottische, the Lily Bank and an exqui?>lte new com-
;
potnition by the aiithur of The Maiden's Prayer. This
last piece, which i^ entitled Magdatena, Pensi-e Foj^itivCr
is the gem of the number. It is a delightful, dreamy
composition, covering seven or eight page!*, and is
equally adapted to tlie advanced perf*>rmer, who will
find it a brillittot, showy piece, and to the learner, as a
pleading and profitable study. We will send single
copies of the Monthly, containing the three pieces as
aboTo, for '0 cents or, to those who de-^ire to examine
;
the Monthly as far as published, we will send numbers
1, 2,and 3 on receipt of 91 00. Future numbers will be
60 cents each, without abatement, excepting to subscri-
bers, whoget them at 2o cents by pubsciihing by the
year. The terms are $3 00 per annum in adv;iuce.
Every one whose purchases of music amount to twenty-
five cents a month should take the Slonthly, the cheap-
est and mo>t beautiful publication, in sh^et music form,
ever printed. It is publii>hed by sabticription, and is
not for sale at the music stores. The only way to pet it
is to address the publisher, J. Starr Holloway, Philadel-
phia. Those who desire complete sets should send in at
once.
yew Sheet Mtisic. The new firm of Wm.
Co., New York, hare just issued a splendid composition
for advanced players. Solitude, a brilliant, dreamy
reverie, by Richard Hoffman, GO cents. Also, Reminis-
cences of Leah, a beautiful arrangement by Robert Stoe-
pel of gems from the new tragedy, with a splendid
portrait of Miss Bateman, 50 cents. Manual of Asms
Polka, by Giafulla, author of Captain Shepherd's Quick-
etep, 3->. The same firm issues, Jane of Ravenswood,
new ballad, by Keller, 25. How Long the Hours Seem
Love, 25. Washington and our Country, fine patriotic
song, 40. These are They war-
all fine publicatiotig.
rant us in saying that the new firm who issues them
cannot fail to be as successful as the old house of Firth,
Pond, & Co., especially when we consider that Mr. Pond,
the practical member of the late firm, is now at the head
of the establishment.
Horace Waters, New York, publishes several fine new
songs. Angel Visitants, sung at the Old Folks* Concerts.
Come Sing with Me, pretty song and trio. Plea-^ant
Words for All, aong and chorus. Hark, the Signal;
Where Liberty Dwells is my Country, and Freedom,
Truth, and Right, three spirited patriotic songs.
Little Jenny Dow; A Penny for your Thoughts, and
Merry Little Birds, songs by S. C. Foster, who is always
welc->me to the public. Bach 25 cents.
O. Ditson k Co., Boston, publish Vespers in C, with
Magnific;*t. by W. O. Fiske, with Latin and English
'
words. This is a grand composition, conlaining solos
'
and chorusses, and well adapted to Catholic and Episco-
palian choirs, 25 pages, $1 00. Also, six short organ
pieces by Karl Merz. which all organijits should have,
40 cents. General Butler's Grand Starch, equestrian
portrait, 35. Golden Robin Polka, pictorial title, 35.
Fine transcription of Annie Lisle, by Biinley Richarda,
35. Teresa Carreo's Waltz, with fine portrait of the
celebrated child pianist. This is a splendid piece,
played by Gnttschalk, 75 cents.
The Musical Editor of the Book will purchase and
mail any of the above music on receipt of price. Ad-
dress, at Philadelphia, J. Staer Holi^wat.
101
Mr. Jeptha a. WAaF.SER has attached to onr Orover
& Biiker sewiug-machiDe a highly important invention
"Wagener's Buster." A bu.ster attachment, which
obviates the necessity of basting fabric to be sewn by
machine aid, which can be attach'.'d to all kinds of
sewing-machines, has been awarded first premiums at
late &irs, and is highly endorsed by all who use it. It
is the invention of Jeptha A. Wagener, of PuUney, Sten-
ben County, New York, and is for salo and in use at No.
50 North Fifth Street, and No. S North Eighth Street,
Philadelphia, where all interested can see its utility.
Letters pateut have been granted Mr. Wagener. Its
simplicity and utility will recommend it to all having
sewing-machines, and over twelve hundred persons
have already used and recommended it.
A OESTLEMAK lately said to his servant: "James, see
what time it is by the sun dial."
*'
But, sir," said the man, " it is dark, the sun set two
or three hours ago."
" Well, take a lantern with you," was the reply.
A. Pond &
Blockt-et Insane Hospital. We have received the
14th Annual Report of the Rev. Edward C. Jones, A. M.,
whose labors of love in the above institution have been so
sedulously prosecuted, and with such abundant --uccess.
As a faithful friend and benefactor of the mentally affec-
ted Mr. Jones has secured for himself a high position,
and wo are pleased to know that he is fully appreciated
by the community which he has long toiled with a
in
spirit so self-sacrificing and a zeal so unwavering. The
Report contains an excellent analysis of mental disorders,
and details his own plans of moral amelioration with
great clearness and force. He is pastor to about 500
patients, and carries to this large number of stricken
ones the genial consolations and rich hopes of the blessed
and everlasting gospel of Salvation.
A coxTEMPORARTsaysthat "the advantage of individ-
ual over otficial management nothing more appa-
is in
rent than in the present rapid conversion of legal tender
notes into the Five-Twenty six per cent? bonds. This
business was early put under the special supervision of
Also, Jay Cooke, of this city, whose facilities and extended
connections with the banks and with capitalists all over
the country, enabled him to inaugurate a system that
has introduced the bonds into almost every county of the
interior."
Let ns say a word more upon this subject: if yon deal
with an official, you deal with a " Jjirk in office.'' who
will rather pride himself upon letting yon know your
distance. In dealing with Mr. Cooke you deal with a
gentleman in the proper sense of that word. We have
seen in Mr. Cooke's office a poor man seated at a table.
counting out his money at the other end we saw, at the
;
same time, one of our millionaires. Mr. Cooke was
rather more attentive to the poor than he waj> to the rich
man, We think much of the popularity of this loan has
been owing, at least in this city, to Mr. Cooke's manage-
ment of it. We lake this occasion to say that no one^
no firm could have managed this loan as well as Mr.
Jay Cooke, a geotleman whom we delight to honor.
9*
102 godey's lady's book and magazine.

worth, III., the buildings and machinery for which will

A NEW NATIONAL PKODUCT BEET-ROOT SUGAR.
he in readiness for work the coming season. The con-
One of the compensations growing ont of these trou-
tractors will employ fifteen hundred acres of land in the
blous times has been an extraordinary stimulus commu-
culture of the root.
nicated to our industries, and the development of new
In the production of beet sugar we have all the advan-
sources of national prosperity and wealth.
tage of the experience of European manufacturers. In
One of the sources bids fair to be a plentiful supply of
the outset of the culture in France it was etimulated by
sugar from the beet. We have had an opportunity, re- the Government by the most prodigal
bounties. It has
cently, of examining several specimens of it in this city,
now gained such firm fooling that an enormooa reve-
which were manufactured at Chicago, from beets grown
nue is derived from it. It is so profitable that the
on the prairies of Illinois. The supply of sugar by the
annual rental of lauds devoted to it in France exceeds
Mississippi being cut off by the embargo of that river,
four times the price now asked for the soil of the best
Mr. Belcher, a well-known sugar refiner in the West,
prairie lands. In France the beet is cultivated entirely
turned his attention to the refining of syrup from the
by manual labor. In this country, as soon as the plant
sorghum plant, which has now become a staple crop
gained whole culture would be done by labor-
root, the
in Iowa and Illinois. It is estimated that five million
saviug implements. The produce of this country, the
gallons of syrup were produced in the West the past
past year, averaged from fifteen to twenty-five tons to
year. To extend the source of supply of domestic sugar,
the acre, at a cost of not over one dollar the ton. The
Mr. Belcher procured last spring, from Europe, a supply
only element of cost of the manufactured article, re-
of seeds of various kinds of the sugar beet, and by the
maining unsolved, is that of refining. But, with the
agency of the Illinois Central Railway Company, dis-
well-known skill of our refiners, and the extraordinary
tributed them among the farmers on the line of that
success which has attended their efi^oi ts, there can be no
road, and through a range of two hundred miles, with
doubt that this will be equally striking when applied
a view to a^^certain the kind of soil and climate best
to the clarifying of beet as of cane sugar.
adapted to the growth of the root.
The value of the results growing out of the introduc-
The result, so far. has been of a most gratifying cha-
tion of the sugar beet into this country can hardly be
racter. An analysis of several samples raised in the
estimated. Sugar already stands next to raaunfactores
black prairie soil yielded from nine to thirteen and a
of wool in our imports, and is very rapidly becoming
half per cent, of saccharine maiter. The samples of
thefirst. We pay nearly $40,000,000aunually forforeign
sugar produced were from liquor evaporated in an open
sugars alone. If we can place ourselves, as the French
pan, and although undoubtedly far inferior to what
have already done, in a position of iudependence of for-
might have been produced by more elaborate and scien-
eigners, we can keep at home the 40,000,000 in gold and
tific processes, have been pronounced by our most
silver, which a balance against us has compelled us to
intelligent refiners to be of a superior quality, and well
export, to make good our account in the great London
granulated, and worth to-day ten cents per pound. The
clearing house.
beet is pronounced by intelligent Germans, familiar
We hope the New Agricultural Commission will de-
with the process of sugar-making from it, to be fully
made to it by Congress
vote a portion of the appropriation
equal to the best quality produced in Germany or France
for thepurpose of collecting and diffusing information
Quder the most favorable circumstances.
npon this important subject It is a crop peculiarly
The production of sugar from beets has now como to
adipted to our Northeru States, from the abundant
be a leading interest in several European countries.
The lands adapted to their culture command the highest
moisture and heat of oar climate two indispensable
conditions of successful culture.
prices, and the crop is so profitable that it warrants the
most elaborate system of culture. The improvements
Embroidery Stamps. Send for a few dozen of S. P.
in the quality of beet and in the process of mannl'acture,
Borden's Celebrated Embroidery and Braiding Stamps.
have been so great, that the yield within the last thirty
There are thousands of dozens of these stamps in use,
years has increased from three to eleven per cent.
and they have never failed to give satisfaction. They
Since this percentage has been obtained, the beet in
will stamp on any material with accuracy. There
Fr&uce has beccmie the most impnrta7it crop in the Empire.
should be a set in every town. Address S. P. Borden,
In 1S61, 148,000 tons were raised in that country, against
Massillon, Ohio or his agents, J. M. Pickering, No. 96
;

9,000 tons in 1S30. In Belgium the crop in 1861 was

West Fourth Street, Cincinnati, Ohio Miss Carrie P. ;

18,000 tons. In Germany a very large amount was pro-

Aydon, Wilmington, Del. Mrs. A. Brooks, No. 838
;

duced; the aggregate for Europe exceeding, in 1861,

North* Tenth Street, Philadelphia ; Mrs. J. M. Newitt,
200,000 tons, worth more than $40,000,000.
Cbickopee, Mass. ; Miss Grace Law, Dixon, 111. ; Mrs. S.
In ouF own country the culture of the beet is begin-
A. Childs, Titusville, Pa. ; Mrs. B. C. Burden is travelling
ning and attention. The Agri-
to attract great interest
Agent. Inking cushion, pattern book, and full printed
cultural Societies of Iowa and Illinois have already
instructions accompany each order without extra charge.
taken action in the matter, in which they have been
Price $5 per dozen.
vigorously seconded by the Illinois Central Railway
Company, which has offered to transport, free of charge
to the manufacturers, all the beets grown from the A Subscriber wishes to inquire the best mode of mak-
seeds distribnted by Mr. Belcher. Enough has been ing paste for scrap-books, to keep them from being so
stiff. " I have inquired of a great many, and as the last
accomplished to demonstrate that a superior sugar can
be produced, and that the percentage of saccharine mat-
resort I come to you."
ter in the American beet exceeds that in the European,
as might be expected from the greater heat and moisture me at five o'clock to morrow morning
" BiBDT, call ;

of our climate. The President of the Illinois Central we town at six," said a lady to her domestic.
leave
Railway has already concluded an arrangement with a "Yes, ma'am, and will ye be after ringing the bell to
German firm to establish a refinery on his farm at Chats- wake me a little airlier, if ye plase, bo I '11 remember.**
 godet's ABM-chair. 103

JUVENILE DEPARTMENT. of them holds open the month of a large sack of apples
each of the otliers has secured an apple, excepting one,
;

Wb present <inr young friends with another of those

who crawling into the open sack he is in, and the
Is

choice illiiKtniled hynias we promised them boys are grouped to show that they mean to tie up the
for their
WD departmout. mouth of the sack ono holds the string ready, another
;

leans forward to help tho one holding the sack open,

EVENING PRAYER. and ail are laughing. In the background the farmer is
just entering, softly, with a largo whip in
his hand. The boys do not see him.

TABLEAU III. KNAPSACK.

Here the scene is again the kitchen of a
:Mff' farmhouse, where the family la engaged
in fitting out the volunteer. To tho right,
Btandiug erect, his musket grasped in his
right hand, his left arm clasping his wife,
who weeping on his breast, stands a man
is

in the private's costume of the I'nited States

Army. His eyes are bent upon his wife,
full of love, while his attitude and the firm
grasp of his gua show his resolve to go.
Near him, seated on the floor and playing
with his canteen, is a little girl, while in the
centre of foreground, upon the floor, is his
open knapsack. The old mother kneeling
beside it is putting in his Bible, the father
stands with his hands full of stockings,
and other necessaries, while to tho
shirts,
left, two
sisters are gathering from a table
Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me ! the other articles to fill tho knapsack. Children are
Bless thy little lamb to-ni^ht! very good in this tableau, and there is plenty of room for
Throngh the darkness be Thou near me, effective dresses. The little old man and woman can wear
Watch my sleep till morning light! the dress of the last century, the girls pretty conntry
costumes, and the soldier-boy the blue uniform of the pre-
Thy hand has led me
All this d;ty
Oh, I thank Thee for Thy care
sent day or, the whole scene may he made to represent
;
an event in the Revolution, with tho young soldier in
Thoa hast clothed me, warmed and fed me full Continental uniform, and the otlier characters in
Listen to my evening prayer.
the dress of that day. If the costumes can be obtained
Let my sins be all forgiven! the latter is by efi'ect, and an old flag
far the best for
Bless the friends I love so well with the thirteen stars may he held by a child in the
Take me, when I die, to heaven, background. Music, as "Hail Columbia," or the " Star-
Happy there with Thee to dwell t Spangled Banner," if the performer is concealed, will
add very much to the effect of the scene.

We also give another one of those amusing Charades

la Tableaux.

To Color PnoTOORAPas. A new preparation called
Newton's Prepared Colors for Albumen pictures is for
KNAPS .\CK. sale by .T. E. Tilton & Co., Boston. Price, with a bottle
of Reducing Liquid complete, with fall directions for
TABLEAU I. SAP- painting, so that any person, though not an artist, may

The scene represents the kitchen of a farm-honse. At paint in a most beautiful manner, and very rapidly, the

the right of foregronnd an old woman, with a large cartf-S de visite and photographs, etc., $3 .30.

white cap, and hood, is holding a hall of

fipectaclos, There has been offered for sale a worthless Imitation
yarn, in the act of winding it. She has an open book in that will injure the photograph. See that the box ob-

her lap, over which her hands have fallen, crossed, tained has tho name and seal of J. E. Tilton & Co., Bos-
vhile her head droops forward on her brea,st her eyes ton, who are sole agents for the United States.
are closed in short, she is an old woman taking a nap
;
Copies of Natural Flowers for painting with these
while winding her yarn. Standing in front of her, colors, or for study in oil, pencil, or water colors. Price

holding an euormons hank of yarn on his outstretched 2." cents each per dozen, ^2 2., post paid. Alsa, beau-
;

hands, and looking disconsolately at the idle ball con- tiful fancy copies of rare engravings for painting tliis
necting with it, is a little boy, in the dress of a country style, 15 cents each ;
per doz., $1 25, post paid. Brnshes,
lad. At an open d'>or in the background is a group of etc. See Price List of Artists' Goods.
children, trying: to coax the skein-bolder out, making
signals, and holding np tops, balls, and marbles.
A LADY whoprided herself upon her extreme sensi-
bility, said one day to her butcher: "How can yoa
TABLEAU II. BACK.
follow such a crnel profession ? Ah how can you kill !

The scene represents a barn. In the backgronnd are the poor little innocent lambs !'*
piled np sacks of apples and potatoes, while in the fore- "Madam!"' cried the astonished butcher, "woold
ground a party of mischievous boys are collected. One you prefer to eat them alive?"
104 GODEY's lady's book ANT) MAGAZINE.

RURAL RESIDENCE.
Designed expressly for Godey^s Lady's Book by Isaac H. Hobbs, Architect, Philaddphia.

PERSFECTIVE VIEW.

FIRST STOBT. SECOND STOKr.

First Story. A vestibule, B sitting-room, C parlor, We have received from Horace Waters, 4S1 Broadway,
D parlor, E dining-room, F kitchen, G hall, H porcb. New York, the following music: The Ometeppe Waltz,
Second Slory. I roofs, K chambers, L dressing-room, by J. G. Barnard, as played by the Band of the TJ. S.
M nnrsery, If bath. Military Academy at West Point the West Point March ;
;

Frederica Waltz ; Father Reed's collection of songs

Messrs. J. E. Tiltox & Co., Boston, have for sale all "Johnny is my darling," "Johnny's so bashful,"
materials for the different styles of Painting and Draw- "Shall we know each other there;" L'Amitie Waltz,
ing taught in their book, Art Recreations.
They will composed by J. G. Barnard. Flowers of Spring, a choice
send a price list, if and answer necessary
requested, collection of popular songs with brilliant variations for
questions, and will send, post paid, the book for $2 00. the piano, by Charles Grobe.
It teaches Pencil and Crayon Drawing, Oil Painting of

every kind, Wax-work, Leather-work, Water Color Dasters, who wished his portrait taken in the most
Painting, and hundreds of fancy kinds of drawing, natural manner, desired the painter to represent him
painting, etc. etc. reading aloud.
 godey's ABM-chair. 105

As we receive a large number of uow bubscrrberH com- Mrs. C. P. Sent hair rings S4th.
meactDg with [he July number, the publiciitioa of the Mrs. J. M. W.Sent patterns 24th.
followlog is act amUs: Mrs. A. G. Sent boat containing curtains, etc. by ex-
press 2.11 h.
SOME HINTS. Miss Z. Do F. Sent patterns 27th.
In remittiDg. try to procure a draft, and don't fail to Mrs. H. C. H. Sent patterns 27th.
indorse ic Mrs. J. M. S Sent gimp fur skirt 2Sih.
Address L. A. Godey, Philadelphia, Pa. That is ^ulQ- Mrs. M. C. J. Sent flowers, etc. 2&lh.
cient.
D. D. T. M. Sent pattern 28th.
If a lady is the writer, always prefix Mrs. or Mins to
Mrs. T. T. D. Sent iulUnt's wardrobe by Adams's ex-
her signature, that wo may know how to address a press 29th.
reply.
Mrs. G. W. P. Sent patterns May 1st.
Town, County, and State, always in your letter. Mrs. J. H. D. Sent patterns 1st.
If you miss a number of any mat;azine, always write
Mrs. S. A. C. Sent patterns 1st.
to the publishers of themagaziuo. If Arthur's, address
Mrs. C. P. Sent patterns 2d.
T. S. Arthur St Co., Philadolpliia if Hurjttr's, address ;
Mrs. C. R. A. Sent patterns and needles 2d.
Messrs. Harper i Brothers, New York.
Mrs. E. E. L. Sent patterns 4th.
When a number of tlie Lady's Book is not received, Mrs. M. P. Sent shirt bosoms, etc. 4th.
write at once for it ; don't wait until the end of the Mrs. J. C. C. Sent box containing bonnet, shawl, eic.
year. '
by express flth.
When inclosing money, do not trust to the sealing
J. G. Sent pattern Sth.
matter on an envelope, but use a wafer in addition.
Mrs.,C. M. C Sent basque pattern llth.
Mrs. Hale is not the Fashion Editress. Address ''Fash-
P. E. B. Sent braiding pattern llth.
ion Editress, care L. A. Godey, Philadelphia."
C. W. Sent hair net llth.
When you send mouey for any other publication, we Mrs. S. H. B. Sent pattern boy's pants llth.
pay it over to the publisher, and there our responsibility
Mrs. A. M. K. Sent hair pin 13lh.
ceases.
Mrs. C. H. S. Sent hair ear-rings 13th.
We can always supply back numbers.
Mrs. E. L. Sent hair ear-rings and needles 13th.
Subscriptions may commence with any number of the
A. C. S. Sent hair ring 13th.
year. Mrs. M. M. Sent patterns 13th.
The postage on if paid three months
the Lady's Book,
Mrs. A. McK. Sent hair ring 13th.
in advance where it is received, is /our and
at the office
Mrs. W. H. L. Sent orne ball and pattern 13th.
a half cejits f<*T three monih\y numbers. Mrs. W., Hillsdale. Either is correct according to
Let the names of the subscribers and your own signa-
the tense.
ture be written so that they can be easily made oat.
A. E. L. The Fashion Editor will answer you by
Tbe Parlor Gabdf.ner. a complete illustrated guide sending your name and a stamp to pay return postage.

house plants, care of greeu-houses,

to tbe cultivation of Miss M. B. Yours would be an advertisement, and,
aquariums, and instructions to many new and beautiful therefore, subject to a charge.

methods of growing plants, of grafting, budding, etc. A New Subscriber. Pronounce as if spelled Go-de,
etc. Price Go cents. By mail, 70 cents. J. E. Tilton the accent on the first syllable.
< Co.| Boston, Publishers. Miss V. R. S. We will not publish a receipt for
removing superfluous hair nothing will remove it
;

PHILADELPHIA AGENCY. without removing the skin also.

So order attended to unless the cash accompanies it.

S. C.
We cannot spend several hours looking over
numbers for a particular article. We have no idea whea
All persons requiring answers by mail must sond a
the "Camelia" article was published. Some months
post-otlice and for all articles that are to bo sent
stamp ;

by mail, stamps
since we published about a dozen receipts for the skele-
must be sent to pay return postage.
ton leaves, J. B. Lippincott & Co., of this city, have
Be particular, when writing, to mention the town,
published a book upon the subject. Should be pleased
county, and State you reside in. Nothing can be made
to oblige you, but " time is money."
oat of post-marks.
Miss M. S. W. Sent braiding pattern April ISth.
H. It is proposed to have a seat elevator at our
theatres to screw up short persons that they may see
Miss M. A- B. Sent patterns ISlh.
over a lady's bonnet. What a satisfaction it is that the
Mrs, J. McC Sent gold braid iSth.
Mrs. E. T. H. Sent braiding pattern ISth. ladies are just as much incommoded as the gentlemen by
the bonnets before them.
Mrs. S. M. K. Sent corset pattern ISth.
Mrs. A G. S. Sent pattern Zouave jacket ISth. Miss L. A. Y.
It has become quite customary here,

Mrs. M. L. H. Sent pattern travelling cape, by Kins- when advertising a marriage, to say " No cards sent."
ley's express ISth. It saves trouble, and no one is oflended by not receiving
Mrs. M. N. Sent talma patterns 16th. a card. The vile practice of sending presents is still
C. G. Sent braiding patteru and braid, by Adams's continued. One marriage notice was lately published,
express ISth. " No friends to send cards to.'*

Mrs. E. W. R. Sent braiding pattern 20lh, M. W. C. An apology is expected by the lady whose
Miss M. T. L. Sent hair work 20[b. flounce you tear ofl" by stepping on it, and she is
Mrs. K. C. v. Sent buttons 22d. expected to receive it, knowing that you could not have
Mrs. J. G. E. Sent edging 22d. avoided the accident. Her ctte is to smile and say, "It
E. A. 8. Sent
hair ring 24th. is of no consequence ;" but she is supposed to say pri-
B. A. Sent hair work 24th. vately, "The awkward fellow!"
Mrs. C. V. L. Sent hair rings 24th. L. V. If a married woman were to wear over her
106 godey's lady's book and magazine.

weddiDg-ring a ring given to her by a single young

man, "an acquaintance of three years' standing," we
Jfasljiflits.
should consider it not only " very improper," but posi-
tively disreputable.
S. A. You should receive good advice in a meeker NOTICE TO LADY SUBSCRIBERS.
and more amiable spirit. You asked, and we gave our
opinion.
Having had frequent applications for the purchase of
jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, the
Editress o/ the Fashio7i Departvtent will hereafter execute
commissions for any who may desire with the charge of
CljciiiistiiT for tlje m\^, a small percentage for
it,

the time and research required.

Spring and autumn bonnets, materials for dresses, jewelry,
LESSON XXlll.iContinKed.) envelops, hair-work, worsteds, children's wardrobes, man-
tillas,and mantelets, will be chosen with a view to econo-
567. Add now to the silver a piece of lead about thrice
my, as well as taste and boxes or packages forwarded
;

its own dimensions ; fuse both together. This silver we

by express to any part of the country. For the last,
will now proceed to extract from the lead, by a process
distinct directions must be given.
actually followed in practice, and termed cupellation.
Orders, accompanied by cfipcks for the proposed expen-
We however, vary a few of the details, the better
shall,
diture, to he addressed to the care of L. A. Godei/, Esq.
to suitour purpose.
Burn it to perfect Xo order loill be attended to unless the m.oney is first
568. Put into a clear fire a bone.
received. NeiiJier tite Editor nor PtMiJfher will he account-
whiteness, and piiwder the result. Damp it with a
little water, ram it very he.rd into a commim brass
able for losses Vuit may occur in remitting.
The Publisher of theLady's Book has no interest in
thimble, smooth the surface level with the thimble's
this department, and knows nothing of the transactions ;

^ n and whether the person seiiding the order is or is not a

subscriber to the Lady's Book, the Fashion, editor does
not know.
Instructions to be as minute as is accompanied
possible,
edge, then let it become perfectly dry in an oven, or other by a note of the height, complexion, and general style of
hot place ; when perfectly dry, scoop out a small cavity
the person, on which much dej:>nids in choice. Dress
on the surface, and fix the thimble tightly into a hole
& mourning goods from Besson
goods from Evans Co.'s ;

cat in a slip of wood, which may serve for a handle. & Son; cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from Brodie's, 51
669. Put the alloy of lead and silver into the cavity Street, New York bonnets from the most celebrated
Canal ;

thus formed, and direct down upon it the hottest part of

establishments; jewelry from Wriggens & Warden, or
the blowpipe flame.
Caldwetl's, Philadelphia.
670. For this experiment, a spirit-lamp flame probably
When goods are ordered, the fashions that prevail here
will be superior to any other. After having continued
govern the purchase; therefore, no articles will be taken
the fusion for ten or fifteeu minutes, all the lead will liave
back. When tlie goods are sent, the transaction must be
become converted into oxide, and the fused oxide will
considered final.
be absorbed into the bone earth, as a sponge. In prac-
tice this operation is conducted on a little crucible
formed of boue earth, and termed a, cujjf.l; _^__^__^ DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION-PLATE FOR
the latter being heated in a little oven, /^_ JULY.
/f\
called a muffle, furnished with slits in its ^ ] Jl I i! [j Fig. 1. Dress of white grenadine barrge, spotted with
side to admit the passage of a current of purple. One deep fluted flounce is on the edge of the
atmospheric air. This muffle is let into the side of a skirt. Over this is a narrow fluted ruffle and a rose
furnace. qiiilling of purple silk. The corsage is low, in order
571. Had the alloy been one of silver, lead and gold, that it may be worn with a lace, or muslin guimpe. It
then the silver and gold would have remained unoxidized is made high in the neck by a fichu of the grenadine
and combined. Had it been one of silver, lead, gold and harrge, trimmed to match the skirt. The sleeves are
platinum, still only flie lead would have been removed. made with a cap, which forms a short sleeve if desired.
Therefore, silver, gold, and platinum are termed noble The long sleeves reach nearly to the elbow, and are fin-
metals. Not only is fused lead oxide absorbed by bone ished with one deep fluted ruffle. The sash is of broad
earth, but in being absorbed is able to carry small por- purple ribbon. The hat is of Leghorn, caught up on the
tions of other oxides with it. Hence the operation of right side, and drooping very low at the back. The
cupelling is had recourse to generally for separating the trimming is a wreath of myrtle with blossoms.
noble metals from the ignoble metals. The noble metals Fig. 2.-7-Mauve grenadine dress, trimmed with two
can only be separated from each other by the moist bands of white silk covered by French lace. The corsage
process. is low, and trimmed with a band of lace. A pointed
672. In order to apply the process of cupellation, the fichu, crossing slightly in front, is trimmed with a fluted
substance operated on must he iu the condition of alloy ;
ruffle and insertions of black lace over white silk. Straw
that is to say, in the condition of one calcigenous metal hat, edged with a fall of black lace, and trimmed with a
united with one or more others. Thus, for instance, lace scarf and a tuft of deep red roses.
common argentiferous galena or sulphuret of lead and sil- Fig. 3. Boy's costume of buff piqv'', braided with
ver is not in a condition proper for being cupelled, until black. The skirt is laid in heavy box plaits, and a
all the sulphur has been driven off by the process techni- braided sash is fastened at the left side. The waist is a
cally called roasting, which consists in exposing the Zouave, worn over a very full white Garibaldi shirt.
substance to the combined influence of heat and atmos- Fig. 4.
Dress of white barrge, trimmed with five nar-
pheric air for a considerable period. row bias ruffles, edged with black velvet and black
 FASHIONS. 107

lace. The corsage is plain, and trimmed to correspond CHITCHAT UPON NEW YORK AND PHILADEL-
with the 8kirl, A short pelerine of the bnrige crosses in PHIA FASHIONS FOR Jl'LY.
front, and Torniif a tta^h at the baclc. The coiffure is one
Wb think we cannot chat this month upon a more
of the inowt approved sty lea.
interesting subject than riding habits.
Pig, 5. Dress of striped piue-apple fibre, made with
Riding, we are glad to see, has increased in favor all
fluted ruffles on the edpe of the rtkirt, aud up the frout
The scarf of the same material
over the laud. A fine horse is at all times a pleasant
ia the lablier styie. is
sight but the
; finest hor-e never looks .so well in our
as the dreiis, aud perfectly plain. The hair is arranged
bands in and caught up in a waterfall at eyes, as when he proudly bears a fair lady, with her
ia crcpi front,
flowing skirt. Tho Empress uf the French, besides being
the back.
the most beautiful woman, is the most ;idiiiirablo rider
Fig. 6. Hisses dress, of a very thin pink Mozambique.
in her dominions. She sets the fashion for all the world.
The skirt is trimmed with four ruttl>_>s bound with silk.
Tho corsage is square, and worn with a guimpe. A wide If it be to her influence that wo owe the fashion of
riding on horseback, she has rendered our ladles an ex-
sash of piuk ribbon is tied at the back.
cellent service.
Fashion has changed very little, in tho way of riding
ORGANDIE DRi:SS. habits. All seem to agree that it is rather a conspicuous

Prom A. T. Stewart's EstaiAuhment, corner of Broadway position for a lady, and conscqueuily her dress should
and Te)Uh St., ^ev) York. he plaiu, at least in tho city. At a fashionablo watering-
place, fancy may be allowed more liberty.
(See engravings, page 17.)
Tbe main points are, that the habit should fit well, and
Back and yiow of an organdie dress. It is a
front
the skirt be long aud ample. But bear in mind, dear
clear white ground, dotted with purple. The bands
readers, that there is such a thing as a *'Jnste milieu.^'
bordering the skirt, and extending up the front, are of
If tho skirt be too long the fair lady's life is in danger,
purple, aud the design below tho bauds is to represent
and if it be too wide the horse will be covered with a
black lace, which it does admirably. The sash is also
mountain of dress. The only rule we can give is, that
of organdie, stamped with the same design which orna*
the skirt must be just long and wide enough to hang
ments the skirt.
gracefully.
Few under skirts should be worn. One is ample.
COIFFURE FOR A TOrXG LADT. Indeed, skirts are generally ignored, and pantaloons, the
{See engravings, i>age 20.) color of the habit, are uow donned.
Tbe front hair is heavy curls, arranged to
in three Though a cloth habit may be found uncomfortably
look like rolls, and kept in place by small combs. The warm on starting, still it is so difficult to provide for
back hair is tied very low on the neck, and the comb both heat and cold, that, as a sanitary precaation, we
stuck in. The hair being made very smooth, has a fancy would advise a rather thick habit. For the city, we
colored ribbon trimmed loosely round it, and then looped admire a dark habit, say black, blue, green, or gray,
ap to the right aud left as represented in our plate. made with a deep jockey at the back, buttoned in front
up to the throat, with tight, or elbow sleeves almost
HEADDRESS. tight. With this should be worn liuon collar and cuffs.
The Byron is a pretty styie. The tie can be of white
{See engraving, page 22.)
muslin, or of bright ribbon, either of which, however,
Hatr turned and both back and front ar-
off the face,
must be without streamers to fly abuut. The hair should
ranged very loosely over frizettes. The wreath is com- bo done up closely in a net. The iuvisible is the best
posed of large pink roses, with their buds and foliage,
style.
also fancy grasses.
In York, the steeple hat is much worn, and when
New
the lady short, and has a well shaped head, it is be-
is
THE MARIA THERESA CRAVAT. coming. But the steeple hat, beside-^ being very warm,
{See engraving, page 22.) does not soften or conceal defects, and we would rathei
substitute for it the Andalusiau, Francis 1st, Henry 3d,
Silk or velvet may be used for this cravat. The ends
or some other fancy style, to be found at Genin's on
are embroidered ia silk and beads, which shouldheworktd
Broadway. The best style of veil is the Loup or Mask
h*fore the cravat is lined. It measures thirty-one inches
which we described in our .January Chat.
veil,
from end to end, aud each end at the widest part is four
At the watering-places we see habits of every variety.
and three-quarter inches, which is folded in to the
There are alpacas and merinos of every shade, trimmed
width of two inches. The ends are trimmed with three
fancifully with silk, velvet, and braid also gray, buff, ;
rows of lace, as well as round tho neck. lu the trim-
white piquis made up in the most varied styles.
ming round the neck a piece of net should be cut, which
With these fancy costumes, of course the hat should
efaottld be trimmed with lace before it is attached to the
correspond. The most stylish of the season is of while
cravat. Four yards of lace are required for trimming.
felt, with rather high crown and trimmed with a black

lace scarf tied at tbe back. The contrast between the

FASCT COIFFURES.
white felt and black lace is striking and beautiful.
{See engraving, page 23.)
A handsome whip and well fitting gauntlets complete
^g. 1. A fancy coiffure, made of ruby velvet, gold the equipment of our eque-trieune, and so we leave her.
cord, and a white plame. The small cat refers to tbe Mme. Demorest has some entirely
just brought out
coiffure without tbe plume. This is one of the most new styles for thin dresses. One dress, the Walewski,
desirable styles. named after the countess of that name, has three bands
Fig. 2. Butterfly coiffure, suitable for a young lady. of silk or ribbon, sewed on in points, or herring-bone.
It is for the back of the head, and made of black velvet The lower band extends from the edge of the skirt to the
and gold cord. top of hem, the under part of the hem being cnt out

c^
108 godet's lady's book and magazine.

between the poiats, which gives a light and novel effect. pretty for summer. There are talmas, without arm-
The same trimming' extends up the front and irims the holes, trimmed with deep ruffles headed by ruchings,
waist and sleeves. A scarf mantle of new and graceful velvets, or braids, and finished at the neck by a veiy
form accompanies this dress. The Senorita called so, ull ruching of the barege. Then the gracefulj scarf
we suppose, from its Spanish appearance has three shape, trimmed also with fluted ruffles and ruchiugs.
ruffles, headed by thick ruchiugs of silk and caught up A pardessus of lace, with a noap plication of ribbon,
iu festoons by black lace rosettes. The same style of covered with makes a light aud pretty wrap.
lace,
trimming is oa the front of the skirt, the corsage, and Grenadines and barige Anglais are also made up in the
sleeves. most graceful forms, and will be found a most coDvenient
Skirts are still plaited, the prettiest style being one wrap for the summer season.
large and three small plaits. Aprons are being intruduced for borne wear, made
The newest body has a j ockey half a yard deep, formed generally of black silk, or utoiri, trimmed with black
of three box plaits, each plait being pointed at the velvet, black and white braid, fluted ruffles, steel but-
end. tons, or leather trimming. In the August number we
For misses, Mme. Demorest is tucking the skirts, and shall give two very good illustrations of this pretty
binding each'tuck (which is only one inch widej with a little article of dress.
tiny ribbon or velvet. The revival of hair powder has not been a success,
Nor have the juveniles been forgotten. From the though to some faces the ivfiUe powder is decidedly
host of pretty things, we select tWo for description. becomiug. But rest content there, dear ladies, and do
One, a dress for a little boy, consists of a v^hile jtirfu4 not venture on the violet, blue, or green powders yon
Bkirt elegantly braided, and liiid in heavy box plaits. see in the coiffeurs' windows. This, however, may be
To this is attached shoulder braces, connected both back a useless precaution, for we think few of our belles would
and front by three bands, all beautifully braided. This willingly appear with purple or blue heads. Red, in
is worn over a tucked while waist or shirt. our eyes, would be decidedly preferable.
For a little girl, theie is a dress open on each side of Velvet necklaces are among the pretty novelties. They
the skirt, and the space filled iu with an elegantly tucked are a yard and a quarter long, and half an inch wide,
and braided side stripe. The dress skirt being trimmed and are ornamented with pendants, which surround the
all round and up the sides with a fluted ribbon. The throat, the velvet being tied in a bow behind.
corsage is merely side bodies and shoulder straps, sloped The white clerical looking tie is still worn.
down to the waist both back aud frout, and trimmed Sashes made of black foundation lace, and covered with
with a ruching. This is worn over a muslin waist or rows of lace and ribbon, and ornamented with beads,
guimpe. The name of this waist is not taken, as some are very fashionable, also very expensive, when pur-
suppose, from the Sairey Gamp of Dickens' story. There chased, though they may be made very prettily at home
are many other beautiful styles, which we have not at a trifling expense.
space to describe. Not only are children wearing the little Red Ri^^ing-
We think mothers could not do better than to visit hoods, but Mrs. Ellis is also making them up for yon.-'g
this establishment, where every article of clothing for ladies. They are trimmed in various ways, some with
Infant, child, miss, or lady can behad in paper, the ex- swan's-down, which is rapidly gaining favor.
act counterpart of the original. To amateur dress- Another pretty wrap, to be made of scarlet material, is
makers, these patterns are of valuable assistance, and a vory fuU, circle, with pointed hood. The end of the
there is no excuse for them if they do not have pretty circle, which is finished with a tassel, should be thrown

sleeves, when there are bo many pretty and, at the same over the loOt.snoulder. Wht-u a lady has sufficient style
time, simple patterns to be had. to wear this g'racefuUy, it is a most charming drapery,

Trimmings for dresses arenow of so varied a charac- but few, we are sorry to say, can do it.
almost impossible to enumerate tb^iUt is making up some new styles of bodies
Mrs. Ellis
ter, that' it is

Among them, however, are elegant gimp sets, made ex- some th^m with square jockeys and square ends in
of

pressly for each dress, chenille fringes from two inches front. In others, the jockeys and ends are rounded.

to one-half yard in width, and lastly, leather trimmings. The thin waists are made without a shoulder seam.
This seems at first blush a harsh material for a trim-
The PoOipiylour or square waist has been revived, and
ming. When we first saw the plain bauds, studded is much in favor.

with gilt aud steel knobs, it was so much iu the trunk Some of the prettiest braided dresses we have seen are
style that we were ready to consign leather to oblivion. from this establishment. One was an ashes of roses
We have lately, however, had reason to change our alpaca, braided very richly hoth on the body and skirt
opinion respectiug leather trimming, since we have seen with a brown serpentine braid. The sleeves were a
them on some recently imported French mantles. The novelty. They were buttoned from the shoulder to the
leather is pressed to resemble elegant gimps and gimp wrist, and when closed, made a plain, but pretty sleeve

ornaments. Buttons are also ornamented to match, and but when unbuttoned part of the way, and the white
the contrast between the leather and the black silk is sleeve pulled through, it was quite a dressy affair. A
charming. Wo can positively say that leather is the talma, richly braided, accompanied this dress. Linked
prettiest trimming of the season. >'ot only does it rings of ribbou, silk, or velvet, arranged in different
assert its claim to novelty, but also to elegance. Cuir- Wiiys on the skirt, is one of the newest styles.

eolored silk is also much used in the trimming of man- The most simple styles, suitable for misses, are three

tles, and with good effect. fluted ruffles, separated by three tacks or bands of rib-

bon, or else three tiny ruffles just at the edge of the

The weather has now become so warm that light
mantles entirely supersede the silk ones. At Brodie's dress.

beside"* the usual variety of lace of every style, shape, No two dresses are made alike, and it is impossible for
and price, are the pretty white barige wraps, always us to describe all the fanciful creations we have seen
fashionable, of which one never tires, and so cool and from the work-room of Mrs. Ellis. Fashioit.
A^
A i 1 @ W E D El 7 U i A i E

m
([^BEY'S FA^wi&mn
 A SCDDEX SnOWER.

VOL. LXVII. 10 115

 iioel m$ lo
COMPOSED FOR THE PIANO-FORTE, FOR OODET's LADY's BOOK,

BY W. DELESDERNIER.

Andante molio et Appassionafa.

talis*: :*_J._gi: ?2-

^E^^=^
Back -ward, turn back -ward, O Time, in your Qight ;
Make me a
Back - ward, flow back - ward, O tide of the years; I am BO

^^^^iw- :=r
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child a - gain just for to - night, Mother, come back from the
wea - ry uf toils and of tears; Toil without re - corapense,

i=1t^=| ^-1igi^=1S5:=]

-S-2- -a- *1 -!-- --fS f? ^ Ja 1^*- h# h- !-- -- --

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tears all in vain, Take them and give me my childhood a - gain

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ROCK ME TO SLEEP.

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to your heart as
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of yore.
3^ii Kiss from my
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fur - rows of care. Smooth the few sil - ver threads out of my hair,
dust and da Wea ry ing my soul-wreath a way.

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Rock me to sleop, mother,
Wea - ry of sow - ing for oth - era to reap; Rock me to Bleep, mother,
mf

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iSfczzsz: j^^BaggsE)f
*-' -f^il
 LATEST STYLE.

Presented to Godefs Lady's Book for publication hy Messrs. A. T. Stewart & Co., of New York.
118
 LATEST STYLE.

Pretcnied to Godeg's Ladt/'s Book /or publication by Messrs. A. T. Stewaet & Co., oj New York.
10* lis
 SUMMER WBAP.

Made of white worsted lace, lined with Tiolet silk. Chip bonnet, with Tiolet velvet cape, and trimmed
with white feathers.

120
 SUMMER TALMA,

Made of white worsted lace, lined with lavender silk. Rice straw bonnet, trimmed with white lace and
laTender-Golored feathers.

121
 SPANISH MANTILLA.
(^Front view.')

This is in fact a fichu, with long ends tied at the back. A capuchon is attaelied to cover the
head, over which is a half liandkerchief, bordered with a full black lace ruching, having a bunch
122
 SPANISH MANTILLA.
(^Liack vita',)

of carnations on the ricrht side. The mantle is made of figured black lace, and trimmed with rows
of black velvet, and a handsome thread lace.
123
 THE TOLEDO.
[From the establishment of G. Brobie, 51 Canal Street, New York. Brawn hy L. T. VoioT, from actnal
articles of costnme.]

This style, equally adapted to silks, in which it is charming, represents here a

light summer
fabric, suited to the heats of August. It is a mantilla shape, with fluted
trimming.
emphatically _
tue
We scarcely need observe that at this season the several styles of laces are
mode." Among them the black lama lace shawls, single or double, are immense favorites.

124
LATEST PAHISIAN STYLES OF HEADDRESSES, ETC.
{See description, Fashion dej)arlmeiU.)

125
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126
 ! !

GODEY'S
atip ^looli iiiiij 3Jagam
PUILADELI'IIIA, AUGUST, 1863.

AUNT ESTIIEE'S WARMING-PAN,

BY HBS. D. P. B.

Do you remember Auut Esther's kitcben, ject of attraction it was to juvenile visitors,
frieud Ellen Ah, I ueed not ask
? Neat, aiul '.
since while they paused xnofessedly to admire
thriftily kept as was that especial domain of its quaintly carved handle, and brightly bur-

1-hegood housewife in most of our village nished surface, il served as a minor, returning
homes, Aunt Esther's kitchen, in its bright and the smiles which each little guest was sura to
faultless array, seemed them all
to excel wear upon "Katie Townsend's birth-day."
In gleeful childhood we heeded little the Did you ever wonder how it came to pass
working of that presiding spirit of order which
that Aunt Esther quiet and reserved, with
ruled around us but how often since, in the
;
habits of clock-work regularity should have
days of our matronhood, have we sighed for its become involved in an annually recurring chil-
benign presence, as emerging perhaps from a dren's party ? It happened on this wise. Katie,
sick-room, we have sought in bewilderment to as you know, was ever Aunt Esther's pet.
fathom the mysteries of Hibernian misrule. Soon after her birth, some desponding allusion
Oil, the indescribable atmosphere of negligence made in her presence by the weakly, overbur-
that pervades one's precincts under such sway ! dened mother, awoke in Aunt Esther's kindly
Deny it not, friend of mine, that at times like heart the determination to consider wee Katie
these, visions of such a kitchen as Aunt as her especial charge. Well and faithfully
Esther's have floated before your mind's eye was this resolve fulfilled and well was ft for the
;

like some delightful region of enchantment child that siich a refuge was provided for her.

But Katie Townsend our blithesome friend Poor John Townsend ! I need not allude to

Katie I was to tell you of lier Yes, and it ! the painful circumstances by which his house-
was in pursuing the thread of her simple story, hold was so early broken up and through
;

that I was led into Aunt Esther's kitchen. which, but for the unwearying kindness of hi.s
1 cau sef, now, the rows of shining pewter good aunt, our Katie would have been left
dishes, ranjjed upon shelves of spotless white- homeless, even before she became an orphan.
ness ; the untarnished painted floor, protected One day, when the little damsel was about
by its mats of Brilliant hue, which had been completing her sixth year, she came after
evoked from the rarj-hny by the magic of ^unt school, as was frequently her privilege, " to
Esther's homely skill ; the curtains of white stay night with Aunt Esther."
all Many,
dimity, shading windows whose small old fash- indeed, had been the days when a childish
ioned squares might have vied in lustre with voice had rung gleefully through that quiet
the costly panes of a modem city mansion. I abode, causing the sage old cat, at first, to raise
recall also the presence of " the tall old clock, her head with a stare of grave surprise al- ;

which ticked behind the door ;" and last, not
least. Aunt Esther's warming-pan
An heir-loom was this handed down, as its;
owner never wearied of relating, "from her
great-great-grandmother," and au especial ob-
VOL. ixvii. 11
though she seemed gradually to acquiesce in
! her mistress' benevolent purpose, quitting her
favorite place upon the hearth-rug with al-
most as complete an air of resignation as that
with which Auut Esther herself laid down her
127
128 godby's lady's book and magazine.

knitting, and consented to be led around tlie The "birthday" equalled little Katie's most

house to answer questions ! delightful anticipations and good Aunt Esther

;

On the occasion just referred to, Katie had felt rewarded for her self-denial and exertion in

scarcely entered when, coaxingly throwing her witnessiugthe thorough enjoyment of her young
arms about Auut Esther's neck, she exclaimed, guests, and receiving the earnest "Thank you,
"Oh, Aunty, I am so glad to come! I have Miss Esther ;we have had such a pleasant
so wanted to ask you if I might not have a birth- time !" After this it would be easy to conclude
dai/.'" Aunt Esther's perplexity at this de- that Aunt Esther was not suffered to forget the
mand seemed in no wise to abate, as Katie returns of the happy anniversary and thus it
;

went on rapidly to explain that "next week was that Katie Townsend's birthday-gathering
she would be six year's old mother said so
became a fixed institution an event long anti-
and she wanted to have a 'birthday,' just as cipated, and long afterwards the theme of con-
Josie Starr did she had all the boys and girls
; versation among our juveniles ; while Katie's
there, and they had such a nice time Mother !
" Auut Esther" was claimed in the same rela-
said she couldn't do any such thing," continued tionship by all the children in the village.
the little one, artlessly; "but she told me I But I must hasten on to one particular birth-
had better ask you, 'cause old maids had no- day, whose occurrences Katie is not likely to
thing else to do. And so I 've been waiting so forget.
long to ask you, aunty you don't think it 's
; Little as Aunt Esther realized the fact, the
naughty to have a birthday, do you ?" she asked, children who had grown up around her, looking
with a sudden misgiving, recalling some of the upon herself as a public benefactor, were many
good aunt's serious observations and homilies. of them children no longer. Wee Katie herself
"No, child, not nauyhty, I suppose," Aunt had now reached the age of fifteen, and though
Esther replied; and added, musingly, "I will still retaining the gleeful spirit and artless grace

think about it, Katie." And with this answer of her childhood, her development in mind and
Katie was forced to be content for the rest of heart was fully in proportion to her years.
the day, although, many times her eyes wist- Half unconsciously, on this occasion, were the
fully sought Aunt Esther's face, as wondering childish games with which the house had rung
"why it took aunty so long to think about in former gatherings set aside for more conge-
it I" nial amusements. At length, one of the young-

Why, indeed ? Because the child's simple est of Katie's compeers exclaimed " Oh, let
:

request had awakened a struggle with her al-

most life-long habits.
of her great disappointment,
us have a post-office 1" and explaining her
Never, since the period plan, she added
" We had one the day I went
had Aunt Esther's to Cousin Helen's in Bristol and I think the
;

house been opened for "invited company."
It is true, for many years there was a reason
for this seclusion in the constant care demanded
by an aged, invalid mother; but now "was
it right to live thus ?" But a party o{ children,
what a trial " Yet it might do good, " argued
! and the frequent clanging of the office lid caused
Aunt Esther's earnest heart, "and perhaps I
have been too strict with Katie she has few
enjoyments at home ought I not to gratify
the child ?"
And so at last it was decided Katie re-
turned home next morning, in high glee, to
hig girls and hoys liked it best of any of us I"
A general laugh at this remark was followed
by a demand for pencils and paper, and Aunt
Esther's warming-pan was designated as the
post-office. The new game went merrily on,
Aunt Esther to peep forth from the pantry,
; wondering to herself to what novel purpose her
time-honored relic was now devoted. The de-
mand for that article iu the children's games
; had ever been in proportion|to Aunt Esther's
veneration for it and it would be difficult to
;

consult her brothers concerning the invitations,
and Aunt Esther applied herself forthwith to
the unwonted task of preparation.
Great was Mrs. Townsend's astonishment,
on learning that the querulous words which she
little imagined Katie was treasuring up to re-
peat, had produced "so unexpected a result
hut it was fully equalled by the surprise of the
village children, when invited to spend an
afternoon at the house of the grave, solitary
Miss Esther Townsend I weary of the amusement, when, glancing from
enffmerate all the parts which it had performed,
the old lady having even beeu known to give
her patient assent to the use of it as a corn-
popper, iu which capacity it was unanimously
voted a "capital thing." The new diversion
seemed a very harmless one, and Aunt Esther,
having put on her large tea-kettle, seated her-
self unobserved to watch the frolic.
The young people had well nigli exhausted
their stock of themes, and were beginning to

\
 xrxT Esther's wabming-pait. 129

an open window, Aunt Esther observed Frank stantly absent upon long voyages his mother ;

Cathbert a manly lad of seventeen seated was and ho had been of late pursuing his
de.ad,
beneath a tree absorbed in writing. So intent preparatory studies nnder the care of the cler-
was be that one of his young companions was gyman of our village, who was a distant re-
closeupon him ere he was aware. lative.
"Ah, Franlv, I've caught you!" he cried, " I am really very sorry to hear this," said
Unghingly. " Writing to Katie, eh ?" Aunt Esther, who had felt a warm interest in
" Attend to yonr own correspondence, please the youth ; and half unconsciously she glanced
fir!" replied Frank in the same tone of pleas- towards Katie as she spoke. Frank's eye fol-
antry but his deepening color did not escape
; lowed hers, but Katie was quietly occupied in
Aunt Esther's observant eye. assisting her yonng friends with their wrappers,
Presently after, Frank passed through the and no sign of emotion could be detected upon
kitchen, and noiselessly deposited his note in her tranquil face.
the post-office. The other yonng people were In parting, Frank took her hand, saying
already engaging in some new am nsement which calmly : " Good-hy, Katie I may not see you ;

Fr.iuk hastened to join and, the room being

; again!" And as Katie replied in a tone of
vacant. Aunt Esther seized her opportunity, friendly interest, wishing him all success in his
and softly abstracted the little note. "Mere studies, Aunt Esther breathed more freely,
children like these" she murmured to herself s.aying to herself " Then there was nothing ia
:

"it will never do ! Katiemnst notsee this I" that note, after all
it is best so," she added,

And with a resolute face she set about prepar- mentally. " Frank is a noble young fellow,
ing the long table for her guests. But, step- but then they are such children .'"
ping nervously to and fro, the stern look passed A few days after this birthday and Frank's
gradually from her face, melted by the busy departure, a great change passed over Aunt
thoughts within. " How old was she when Esther's quiet younger sister Mrs.
life. A

one the nuforgotten first signified his heart's Nancy Erie, who had been for some time a
preference VTas that a mere boyish folly ?
?
widow was now, by the entrance of her only
And even were it so, was she just in depriving son upon bnsiness, left quite alone in the
Katie of that which was intended for her the world. She now wrote, proposing to unite her
dear child who had never deceived her?" It resources with those of her sister Esther, and
was enough ; Aunt Esther penitently replaced livewith her in the old homestead. Her plan
the little note, saying to herself: " How could in its detailwas really a very generous one,
I think of wronging the children!" and thus yet Aunt Esther hesitated long before accepting
set her mind at ease. it. The truth was that, although sisters, there
But the restitution came too late. Another never were two persons more unlike than Mrs.
had witnessed Frank's visit to the kitchen, and Nancy and and Aunt Esther had not
herself;
as soon as she could disengage herself from her forgotten the power of the good woman's tongue.
young companions, Katie stole quietly to the "Still," pleaded the unselfish heart, "I dare
depository to meet with a disappointment. say Nancy is different now after her trials in ;

" How very foolish I was to imagine he h-ad any case it would be hard to refuse to let her
been writing to me !" sighed the little maiden, come home." And she wrote to Mrs. Erie ac-
and thus chiding herself into composure, she cordingly. But alas for the future peace of
!

rejoined her young friends, apparently with Aunt Esther's fireside !

undisturbed gayety. Mrs. Nancy's luggage comprised a large por-

" Well, Frank, "^bserved one of the boys, as tion of her own furniture, for, as she remarked,
the blithesome company prepared to depart, "she could not suppose Esther had ever thought
" I suppose we shall not soon again enjoy y(<fcr of purchasing anything new, and, really, to use
company on Miss Katie's birthday !" those old-timed things, would be unendurable !"
" Ah how so ?" inquired Aunt Esther, with
! And forthwith, upon her arrival, began a sweep-
sndden interest. ing attack upon her sister's household arrange-
" I am to leave town in a few days, ma'am, ments, maintained with such vigor, that good
to enter college," replied Frank. Aunt Esther was fain to purchase peace with the
" And when shall we see you here again f" placable
"Well, well, sister Erie, I suppose
" Perhaps not for many years," he answered, yon know best about such things arrange the
with a perceptible shade of sadness in his tone ; house as you like !"
" you know I have no home !" Katie, meantime, knew little of the metamor-
Captain Cathbert, Frank's father, was con- phosis which was in progress. Her only re-
130 godky's lady's book and magazine.

maining parent was prostrated with a danger- moment, if it were only for your sake ! But
ous illness, just about the time of Mrs. Nancy's oh, what will Aunt Nancy say ?"
arrival, and required all the daughter's care.
"We shall soon hear, I fancy," said Aunt
Weeks of anxious watching ensued, in which Esther, smiling, "but she can say nothing
Aunt Esther almost constantly shared and ;
which will change my intention."
when at last release came, and all was over,
The plan was divulged to Mrs. Nancy that
she tenderly led the sorrowing girl to her own
evening, and met with most indignant remon-
home.
strance. At first, the good woman maintained
Katie was not long in comprehending Mrs.
stoutly that she would not suffer Esther to
Nancy's complete self-installation as house-
sacrifice herself so absurdly
but finding that ;
mistress, and the thraldom in which her meek-
on this point "Esther" was not to be moved
spirited aunt was lit^ld. One day some inad-
from her purpose, she at length desisted, de-
vertence on the part of the latter had drawn
claring that "itwas sheer folly, but just libo
upon her a full tide of remonstrance and admo-
Esther," and at once gave herself vigorously
nition, which was interrupted by the necessity
to the task of overhauling Katie's wardrobe,
for Mrs. Nancy's presence in another part of
and "fitting the child out," as she expressed
the house. As the door closed, Katie drew an
it, " so that she needn't be ashamed of her !"
audible sigh of relief, directing towards the
victim a comically rueful glance. Aunt Esther
More than five years had passed rapidly
ri-plied only with a smile and a shake of the
away, and our Katie was still at the Seminary
head.
at B having for the last two years occu-
"But, dear aunty," pleaded Katie, "how ,

pied the post of assistant teacher, still pursu-

can yon stand this? It is too had that you
ing the higher branches of study. Her vaca-
should be turned out of home in this way !"
"I shall soon get used to it, Katie dear," tions had all been passed with dear Aunt
said the gentle old lady;" Nancy never means Esther, who observed with delight the manifest
improvement of her darling. Her partial eyes
to be unkind. I should feel much worse on
did not deceive her Katie Townsend was, in
your account," she continued, "but that I have
truth, a lovely, engaging girl.
another plan for you, my child."
" For me ?" said Katie, wonderingly. "Not And how had Aunt Esther fared meanwhile ?
to send your child away from you, I hope," She had not, as she prophesied, " got used" to
she added with playful earnestness. tlie " contimial dropping" of words, timely and

" How would you like to go to school at untimely ; but the gentle, elastic spirit had
B ?" asked Aunt Esther. ever so quietly yielded, that no fretted marks
Katie's eyes sparkled with pleasure at the were discernible upon her placid face.

thought she had deeply longed for higher ad-

; And now the long trial was to end unexpect-
vantages of education than our village afforded. edly. Mrs. Erie's son had married, and taken
" But, dear Aunt Esther, surely you could not a house, and now wrote, begging his mother to
send me without denying yourself every com- come and reside with him. Aunt Nancy's
fort ! No, you must not think of it !" bustling nature was delighted with the pro-
"I have made inquiries, my dear, and cal- posed change, and she at once began to prepare
culated closely, and I find we can manage it for her removal, although loudly and constantly
very well Your Aunt Nancy being here will
: wondering " what Esther would ever do without
lessen my expenses very much this year." her!" "Yet still," as she said, "she felt it
The good soul did not add, and Katie never her duty to go for, likely enough, .lames had
;

knew, that a large share of her income had married some foolisli young thing as fit to keep
gone for several years towards the support of hcJnse as a doll."
her nephew's family. Like most of Aunt Her anxieties for her sister were in some
Esther's good deeds, this had no record on measure abated by a letter from Katie, whose
earth. vacation was close at hand, announcing that
"And I am really to go to B !" said " now she was quite sure Aunt Esther would
Katie, hardly able to credit the fulfilment of need her at home, and that, with her leavfe,
her girlish desire "Oh, dear aunty, how can I she should resign her position in the school,
thank you enough ! And I know you will miss and return to remain with her." De.ar old
me so much," she continued, springing from lady She was only too glad to grant permis-
!

her seat to throw her arms around Aunt Esther ;

sion and it was interesting to notice the
;

"but indeed I shall try to improve every briskness of her step, and the animation of her
 AUNT ESTHER'S WARMING-PAN. 131

conntenance when thU arrangement was re- poor children I" and tears dimmed the glasses
SOlveJ upon. while she read :

Katie arrived the evening before Mrs. Nancy's

departure. The bustle of that day passed, Dear Katie : For yon are very dear to me,
leaving the house somewhat bare and desolated
and I have few to love. I know I must not say
in appearance, it is true, yet full of peace and
all that is in my heart, but I could not resist

light to the tivo hearts whose home it was once

this chance of speaking silently to yon before
more. The nest mofniag Katie addressed her- I go. You know I am to leave C this
week, perhaps not to return for a long time.
self merrily to the task of rendering the old
house presentable again. "And first, aunty,
Would it be amiss, Katie, do you think, for me
we must rummage the old garret, to see what to write to you occasionally ? Would your
Aunt Nancy has put away there which we shall friends oliject ? If you think they would, tell

need." me and I will icait until I may speak. But

so,

if not, and if yon care enough for me to be

To the garret Katie hied ; and one of the first
willing, I want you to place a white rose in
objects which met her eye was the old warm-
your pin, where I may see it. I must not tell you
ing-pan, the admiration of her childhood. A
smile crossed her face at the remembrance of
now, but I mai/ tell you in some letter ere long,
the last purpose which it had served, yet it was how very much this will gratify Fbank.
with a sigh that she h.ilf unconsciously raised Katie reappeared after an hour or two, wear-
the lid. There still lay the little note deposited ing her own cheerful smile, although there
so long ago, and as Katie wonJeringly read the were traces of deep emotion upon her connte-
direction, she tore it open with quickened nance. Observing the anxious look with which
breath, and a flushing cheek. " Poor Frank ! her aunt regarded her, she threw her arms
Oh, how could this happen ?" was the mur- affectionately around her, murmuring " Do :

mured ejaculation, and the maiden read, and not grieve any more, dear Annt Esther, over
re-read the note, .and still sat gazing upon it that mistake it is all past now, and I am try-
;

in thought so deep that Aunt Esther's call was ing to feel that it is all for the best. Perhaps,
all unheard. indeed I am afraid should never have been
I

"Katie, child, wh.it has happened?" cried good enough for Frank, even if he had still
the latter iu real alarm, having come in search liked me" adding, in reply to au inquiring
of the missing one. look " You know he will soon be a clergy-
" Nothing, dear aunty," said Katie, trying man, now I"
to recover herself; "at least, that is, I ought " I did not know, my dear ; I am very glad
not to feel so, only this little note I" and the to hear it. It seems, then, you have heard of
tears would no longer be controlled. him, though not by letter ?" remarked Aunt
" Frank Cuthbert's note is it possible ?"
!
Esther, with a smile. And Katie blushingly
cried Aunt Esther, quickly. " Oh, why did I explained that "one of her schoolmates was a
not think that you might not have looked distant reUtive of Frank." She was not, of
again !" course, bound to confess with what interest
" I did look, after I saw Frank go in," Katie scarcely allowed to herself she had watched
admitted innocently in her surprise; "but, for occasional glimpses of the young man's
dear aunty, how did yon know V highly-honorable career.
" It is all my fault, then," said the old lady,
A few skilful questions, artlessly and confid-
in a tone of deep self-reproach " my darling; ingly answered, convincedAunt Esther that
I am so sorry I" and she hurriedly explained "the children" had been mutually and sin-
her abstraction of the note. cerely attached and while the subject was;

" Did you read it, Annt Esther ?" was asked
dropped with a few wise and tender words,
in a low voice, and with a downcast look. deep in her own heart she cherished the pur-
" No, child, I am not prying enough for that,
pose of making amends in some manner for the
I hope!" said Aunt Esther with unusual re- disappointment she had unwittingly caused.
sentment.
And Katie how was it with her? Although
"Oh, I did not mean that, dear auuty we must suppose that the thought would some-
bat would you like to read it now?" and times cross her mind of what might have been, it
handing her the precious billet, Katie escaped was not suffered to cast a shade over her cheer-
down stairs to her own room. Annt Esther, too, ful daily life. Pleasantly sped the days and
descended to seek her spectacles, murmuring weeks in the restored home of her childhood's
as she went, " Poor children it was my fault,
!
happiest hours ; while to Aunt Esther, the
11*
 132 GODET'S lady's BOOK AXD MAGAZINE.

peaceful brightness of her present lot more rangements for her absence, in which Katie
than repaid the trials of the past. It would assisted as dream.
if in a
have seemed almost too much of comfort, had Aharder task was to satisfy the inquisitive-
she not schooled herself to remember that her ness of the neighborhood, in which surprise
darling might soon be claimed by another. and conjecture rau high, when the tidings got
The old house, too, although its ancient fur- abroad that Miss Esther Towusend was going
niture was replaced with but few additions, away on a visit. At last all was ready, and on
seemed invested with a new charm by the a certain eventful moi'ning Aunt Esther found
traces of Katie's skilful industry, and once herself, for the first time in her life, ensconceij
more it became the favorite resort of our young in a stage-coach, on the way to the nearest
people, among whom Katie reigned again, all railroad depot.
unconsciously, as "a bright particular star." The journey was safely accomplished, not-
Some months had passed since the discovery withstanding Katie's anxious forebodings, and
of the hidden note, when one day Katie quietly reaching the place of her destination just at
laid before her aunt a paper, pointing out the evening, Aunt Esther was received with a
intelligence that the Rev. F. Cuthbert had bustle of astonishment, yet with a sincere wel-
accepted a call toL . Auut Esther started, come.
but checljed herself in an exclamation of pleas-
"Well, now, I really am surprised !" ejacu-
ed surprise, for she saw that Katie had not
lated Mrs. Nancy again and again "I didn't ;

observed the coincidence the manufacturing :

know as you cared enough for me to come so
village in which Mrs. Erie resided with her son,
far to see me, Esther I" And good Aunt Esther
was in the township of L At once Aunt .
was obliged to keep her own counsel, although
Esther's plan was formed.
the words smote upon her conscience, well
Very quietly was it matured, however, and
knowing as she did that, without another object
no further allusion was made to the item which
close at heart, the idea of the visit would never
had so interested both readers.
have occurred to Ijer.
Several weeks afterward, Katie chanced dur-
ing an evening colloquy to make some allusion How that object was accomplished, without
exciting the remotest suspicion on the part of
to Mrs. Nancy, wondering also why they had
not recently heard from her. In rejily. Aunt her relatives, is more than I am able to explain.

Esther reminded her that "old folks were poor Certain it is that, during the brief space of her
correspondents, although they might think no visit.Aunt Esther contrived to ascertain the
less of each other for all that. " And proceeded good report of the young clergyman at L ,

to intimate some intention of going to visit her

renew her acquaint-
to listen to his preaching, to

shortly, if Katie thought she could keep house

ance with him, and but the rest we can only
alone for a few days. surmise, and that from the sequel.

Katie listened with an expression of undis- Safely at home

once more, to Katie's un-
gnised amazement, which deepened as she per- bounded having enjoyed, as she truly
delight,

ceived that the old lady was really in earnest. affirmed, a very pleasant visit, Aunt Esther
"But, di!ar Aunt Esther, how could you go? amused and interested Katie with her impres-
you who have never been a dozen miles from sions of the novel journey, with accounts of
C inyour life." the prosperity of her cousin, James Erie, of his
" I am no traveller, it is true," was the quiet amiable and her childlike dependence
wife,

reply; "yet it seems to me the way to L upon the was evident

stirring mother-in-law (it

must be very straight forward." that Mrs. Nancy had found, at last, her proper
" Why, yes, I suppose you could hardly get element) and Katie came to consider the visit
;

then added, with

lost," said Katie, doubtingly ;
as the most natural thing that could have

a perplexed laugh; "Well, aunty, to say the
truth,I did not imagine you ever found Aunt
Nancy's society so congenial, as to induce you
to leave home to visit her."
Aunt Esther smiled, but answered evasively
occurred, and wondered that she had felt so
much exercised about it.
It was about a week after Aunt Esther's re-
turn, and the two sat by an open window, for
; it was midsummer again, enjoying the cool

"Nancy always meant to be kind she was approach of evening. Katie, warned by the
very obliging and she urged me to come."
; deepening twilight, h.ad just laid down a volume
There was no more to be said. And Aunt from which she had been reading aloud, and
Esther, having fixed a day for her journey, sat watching the placid smile which rested
went on calmly with her preparations aud ar- upon the face of hor companion, whose knit-

AUXT ESTHER
ting-needles ticked nncorsoiously on. A knock
was heard at the house door.
" Which of our friends has grown so formal V while the tea things were removed the yonng
remarked Katie, rising to answer the summons.
Aunt Esther checked her, a little nervously,
begging her to fetch some yam from an upper
room before any one entered, adiling that she
TCOald attend the door herself. Unsuspectingly
Katie hastened to comply ; and, re-entering the
sitting-room, after some little search for the
article in demand, she was surprised to perceive
a manly form seated beside Aunt Esther.
"This is my niece, Mr. Cnthbert," said the
latter, rising. " Katie, you have not forgotten
our friend, Frank?"
Katie had not forgotten, indeed but the;
twilight shades concealed her agitation a.^i she
responded cordially to the earnest greeting of
the unexpected guest.
" I had the happiness to meet my well-re-
membered friend during her visit at L ,"
Baid Frank ;
" and the sight of her brought old
associations so strongly upon me, as to draw
me hither once more, as you perceive."
"Visit to L 1" thought Katie; "how
strange that the thought never occurred to me
before !"
Ijights were brought in, revealing more
clearly the features of each to the other. " I
do not see that you are at all altered, Mr.
Cutlibert," said Katie.
"Then, if I seem unchanged, callmeFianjt."'
was his reply.
The evening passed rapidly in inquiries after
old friends, and reminiscences of youthful
days on rising to take leave, Frank expressed
; itself among Katie's young companions, and the
a wish to revisit old haunts, on the following
morning, but, playfully distrusting his memory,
requested Katie to act as his pilot during the
drive.
As the door closed, Katie threw herself into
Aunt Esther's arms but the lips which would
; yours, my child," Aunt Esther had said, " only
have framed a question were sealed with a
kiss, and the smiling command to " go to rest,
for it was late."
The morning drive was a long one, and the
exercise must have proved unusually invigorat-
ing to judge from Katie's rosy color and spark-
ling eyes as she re-entered her home. That
evening bronght Frank again to the old place,
but as Aunt Esther found it necessary to absent
herself from the room for some cause, I cannot
report the progress he may have made in the
revival of " old associations."
A brief visit was all the yonng clergyman
could spare from his duties, yet in the short
time it would seem that much was accomplished.
;
S WARMING-PAK. 133
was now the last evening of his stay iu
It
C . Frank had taken tea at Aunt Esther's ;
couple strayed into the garden, and as they
returned, .Aunt I-^ther smiled to herself, observ-
ing a spray of white roses fastened in Katie'3
pin. After a little pleasant converse, the good
old lady was about to excuse herself on some
pretence, but was gently detained, and re-
seated with Frank and Katie close on either
side.
"You do not need to leave us, dear aunty ;
and we have no secrets from you," whispered
Katie.
" All is settled now between us," said Frank,
"ifyon will give us your blessing, dear friend !"
Aunt Esther clasped a hand of each within
her own, and blessed them in a voice tremu-
lous with emotion. There wa? a long silence,
as they sat thus in the deepening twilight,
with hearts too full for words. At length Frank
said, iu tones of deep feeling, " Under a kind
Providence, dear Aunt Esther, we owe this
great happiness to you !"
"Yes," murmured Katie, kissing the band
she held "and great as it is, it is not all Iowe
her I" And Aunt Esther was happy truly she
had not lived in vain.
Frank Cuthbert's visit was repeated, yet not
very many times, ere there was once more a
gathering at the old Townsend place. Yoa
were present on that occasion, friend Ellen
and I have no need to remind you of its bright,
gladsome interest. The story of the warming-
pan had, in some unaccountable manner, spread
old relic was invested with a new attraction to
the merry groups who found their way into the
kitchen. There it hung in the accustomed
place, but it had changed owners, for Katie had
claimed it as one of her bridal gifts. "It is
let it remain here while 1 live."
Urgently had the young couple entreated
Aunt Esther to leave her now solitary abode,
and make her home with them but the request;
was gently yet firmly refused. " I am too old
now to be removed," she said; "let me end
my days iu the old place, and be buried by the
grave of my father and my mother."
More than once, however, has the once
dreaded journey to L been accomplished,
with the happiest results and Katie, now a
;
sedate wife and mother, finds time for frequent
her girlhood's home.
visits to
I remember my last call at the old Town-
well
send place. A happy family party were gath-
134 godey's lady's book and magazine.

ered there ; and Aunt Esther's smile seemed has ever known has and
lingered, flourished,
than ever, as she sat watching another
lovelier even had its birth in the bosoms of women no
"wee Katie," who with shouts of baby laughter longer young, or fair, or in any way attractive
had reached on tip-toe, and dropped with a to the outward eye. Pale, thin-necked, faded,
resounding clang the lid of "Aunt Esther's forlorn-looking specimens of the gentler sex
Warming-Pan 1" have loved with a love on which angels might

look admiringly a love which triumphed over
self, made light of pain and privation, and was

WIDOWS: PART V. in truth a gem which consecrated and beautified

its poor earthly casket.
RICH WIDOWS.
A true woman is capable of a true affection
Learn more reverence, not for rank or wealtli that
needs no learning
as long as she treads this lower world ; but it

Tkai comes quickly qnick as sin does ay, and often by uo means follows that she can win that
works to sin. BIrs. Browning. which she so munificently bestows. Youth
Who shuts her hand, hath lost her gold, and beauty, symmetry and grace these are the
Who opens it, hath it twice told. Herbert. charms which carry man's heart by storm, and
"Oh that some kind power would the giftie rarely, very rarely, does he so far triumph over
gie ns, to see oursels as others see us!" es- his nature as to love an old, an awkward, or an
(ilaimed the poet, and
words have found an
his ugly woman. In these opposing facts lies the
echo in many a human heart the world over. peril of the Rich Widow. She feels, perhaps,
Man is not by nature a benevolent being, or he within herself a tenderness stronger and purer
would be thankful for the very unconsciousness than welled from her maiden heart, an ability
of our peculiarities, whichkeeps us from growing to love and sacrifice, which her undisciplined
moping and morbid, and even is to many of us spirit never knew. No kind power "the gift
the kindly gate 'twixt us and the mad-house. will gie her to see hersel as others see her."
It is well thatwe do not know exactly how we
She meets her hero the realization of her
look, and speak, and walk, or we should at cherished ideal. Youth, intellect, and energy
times want to put on "Mr. Hooker's black struggling with the buffetings of the world,
veil," or give up language and locomotion as with an eager eye fixed upon the goal. He
altogether unsuited to our idiosyncrasy. wins her sympathy at once. She encourages,
It is indeed a kind Power which makes us advises, aids him. He becomes to her the
" heboid ournatural face in the glass and go our centre of thought and interest. Her pulse
way, forgetting what manner of men we were. beats as quickly at the sound of his footstep as
With every step we take from the mirror, the if she were a girl of eighteen. She is hardly
true image fades from our minds, and is super- surprised when she learns from his lips that he
seded by an indistinct halo, half formed of adores her, that she the queen who leigns
is

vanity, and half of the kindly estimation in in his heart. no discrepancy between
She feels

which we are held by our friends. And so we them. His strong mind makes him seem her
jog along, with the comfortable notion that elder, to his iron will it is second nature for

there is something pleasing about us after all, her to bow. Rich Widow Now you need !

in spite of freckled skin, pug-nose, boars'

your ever-present mirror your Mentor to tick
teeth, or other imperfections not set down in out your by-gone years like the remorseless
Uie description of Sir Charles Grandison, or his clock. Your foot is on the edge of a precipice !

incomparable Lady Harriet. If you love that young man, save him from his

All this is well as a general rule, yet there first mean compromise between selfish interest

is one person who needs not only a mirror ever and sacred honor Give him your money, if
!

at hand, in which she may count her wrinkles, you choose, but do not let him marry you as
but a more than Gil-Bias to ring in her ears the mere figure, representing the siim total of
her nearness to the allotted three score and your golden inheritance Are you a brilli.-int,
1

ten, and the indubitable signs by which all the gifted woman like Madame de Stael ? She
world may know that she is "no baby." Such might venture, when past forty, to marry a
mentors and reminders are almost indispensable man just half her age, for she had twice his
to the Rich Widow. The human heart, especi- wit, wisdom, and worldly experience, as well as
ally the heart of woman, is a wonderful thing twice his years. She might venture, and have
it never grows old, at least it never loses its a "tolerably happy marriage;" but even for
power to love, and to believe its beloved. Much her, whose charms were not of the perishable
of the purest, truest affection that this world sort, it was a doubtful, dangerous experiment.
 WIDOWS. 135

Dear frieml, connt those gray tokens which pretend to shake off the gold dast from oar
bespriukle every lock of your daily diminish- saintly garments. Let us rather honestly own
ing braids of hair ! Note the "crows' feet" at its power, and wield that power well. Married
the corners of your eyes ! Where is the deli- women can rarely bo either gpiierous or chari-
cate bloom that oneo graced your cheek ? table as individuals. Most wives go to their
Where is the buoyancy of your step ? How husbands for money to give, as well as to get,
you puCTand pant when your way lies up bill, and so are but beggars themselves, or at least
or yoa mount the photographer's long stair- but .almoners of another's bounty. ( How
case I You are a worthy, fine-looking, middle- some of them do hate much as a dol-
to ask as
aged woman, but are you a fit bride for a lar from the men who must know what is don
youth, who will be in his prime when you are with every cent of it, and hem haw at each ! I

"sans everytliing?" Do you suppose that ho item of which their profound judgment disap-
really loves you ? Man's love and old women proves.)
keep little company together now-a-days be The rich widow is after all the independent
sure of that I woman. She can give when and how sbe
We are sorry for you. It is hard for yon to pleases, and no man shall say hernay. She need
wake from this bewitching dream, but wake not be a watering-place wonder, to be stared
you must and it is better that it should be
; at and run after, and persecuted by fortune-
now than after the wedding. Be sensible I hunters. She is not obliged to parade her
Be courageons Look straight into the eyes
! velvetsand laces to be known as the rich Mrs.
of your would-be husband. Tell him this fan- So-and-so with an income without limit. Sl>a
cied affection of his will fade away like the can have a higher ambition. There is a better
morning dew. Tell him just how old you are, path open to her, one that leads npward ratlier
and how old you will be when he is in man- than into the vale of humiliation.
hood's zenith. Be to him the kind, experienced Make an estimate of your income, my friend
friend he needs, but pledge yourself to see him of the money-bags. Decide how much you are
no more, if he urge the suit which common willing to give away, not in useless baubles to
sense pronounces utterly absurd. Would you people whose wants are all imaginary, but to
rob him of his noble ambition, his energy, his the real sufferers who throng this pinching,
best aspirations ? Then marry him at once, work-a-day world. Your time will not hang
take him to Paris, and while he flutters idly heavily upon your hands. There is even dan-
mid the g.ny dissipated crowd, sit home in
at ger that you may be kept too lazy, if you onoe
your loneliness, and live on the memory of the enter upon the pleasant field of yonr labors.

glad time when yoa fancied yoa had bis heart's Ah ! what charming pictures rise, as yonr
true affection future diuily flits before the fancy ! What
No ! hand to save him now,
Stretch out your hand has banished the desolate, comfortless
not to clasp his in a false alliance.The day look from that humble home. Why there is !

will come when he will thank you that you a on the hearth for the old grandmother,
fire

left him to work his way npward, unshackled though it is only a chilly autumnal evening.
by an unloved wife, and the shame of a merce- That large lamp, with its clear, steady light,
nary marriage. Let him struggle on, and grow makes that pale seamstress work easily. Site

strong through his struggles. Encourage him no longer toils beside the dim candle, and
to do to the uttermost the great deeds of which rubs her blinded, aching eyes. How comfort-
Lis boyhood whispered. So shall his pretended ably clad are those happy children who are
love change to a true regard, a reverence which hastening to the door, to welcome a weary
shall place you in a niche high above all other father returning from his work. Weary, yes,
women, even above her who shall one d.ay sit he looked so till he turned the corner which
by his hearth-stone. Perhaps you do not care brought him in sight of the glimmer of his
to play the cold 'statue in the cold niche I home. Now the cloud is gone, and his face
Warming influences, cheering influences, can is all smiles as he crosses his cheerful thresh-

reach yon even there. You have a talisman old. Poverty is fairly driven out, and only
which can win sunshine for your lot. Atten- honest labor left in his lot. As he sits among
tion and flattery you will have in abundance, his little ones, and thanks God for the plenty
but they are not the sunshine of which we on his table, whose name mingles in his grate-
speak. You crave something better, and it is ful prayer ? It is the rich widow's She it !

near you, within your reach. was who found him out in his misery, and
It is the fashion to depreciate wealth, and to gave him what he pined for, a chance to earn
136 godet's lady's book and magazine.

his bread in the sweat of his brow. Her Solitude ofttimes is charming to me,

When thoughts pure as flowers and sweet.

thoughtful kindness has sent many a comfort
Are thronging around me with whi^pers of thee,
to his altered home. He loves her, his children
So treasured but, ah me, so fleet
!

love her, the wife and mother loves her, truly.

But what is this blossom with which the night breeze
There is sunshine for her in their joyous greet-
Toying, permits it no rest?
ing when her face looks in at the door. There
Most lovely to me 'tis the precious Heartsease
is lasting sunshine for her in the simple prayer, My wishes speak loud from its crest
**
(Jod bless the good lady," which nightly Come, sweet little flower -with soft velvet cheek,
I 'U make thee acquainted with Heath,
goes up for her, from the lips of the children
Near whose gentle aspect, so mild and so meek.
of the poor
Thou must linger in Friendship's own wreath ;

^ould that we had time, rich widow, to And when from my dear friend perchance a stray
paint the many glad pictures which may form glance,
the bright panorama of your future life I
Wandering, lights upon thee.

Qo your way with your golden wand, and do Oh say, while thy soft leaves to low zephyrs dance.
In solitude sweet, "Think of me."
Uie work of the fabled fairy; joy and gladness
shall not only follow your footsteps, but nestle Here are two flowers I '11 mingle together,
And bending down o'er them speak low.
in your own heart.
In accents as gentle as wind kissing heather.
The wishes with which I o'erflow.
*Tis the sweet-scented Jasmine, yellow and sad,
A WREATH FOR MATTIE E. S- I place to the Heartsease so near:
And then this pure flower, in blue garments clad,
BT JErf 5IE. To bid thee be always sincere.
I 'm roving to-night in memory's bowers, 'Tis a meek blossom this winning blue flower.
And weaving a garland for tbee Which turning its soft eyes to thee,
Qf the purest, and briglitest, and loveliest flowora Will throw thee of pleadings an azure shower,
That ever held honey for bee. Lisping Forget thou not me.

The first that I pluck from its homo in the air, Then take as 'tis ofl'ered, this garland of mine;
? t:tke as an emblem of theo ; As cold fate has doomed us to part
'TIS poft as rich velvet, and fragrant, and fair, I lay it a tribute on Friendship's pure shrine,
.ud graces the Magnolia tree. So there let it \^eave round thy heart.
It woos the warm rays darting gleams from the sun,
TVith bloom opened out to the view Note. Emelems of the Flowers: Magnolia, high-
But at last, when
found he is not
'tis to bo won, souled Ivy, My Friendship is lasting Eglantine, Po-
: ;

etry ; llawthorn, 1 nm hopeful; Heath, Snlitnde Heavf-

<t mournfully tarns from the dew.
;

ease. Think of me Yellow Jasmine, We must separate;

:

And folding its leaves when its God sinks to rest, but Forget-me-not Forget me noL
Determined none other to spy,

Since the light of its love has gone out In the west,
^Twill sleep till he beams in the sky.
The Koft dews of evening in vain lightly fall.
And woop at the toll of their doom
It worships but one, so turns from them all
;
WHEN THOU ART NEAR.
Fet, pitying, gives sweetest perfume. BT J. BRAINERD MORGAX.
And now the green Ivj; most beautifol vine Whes thou art near, o'er all my soul
I Tvrfathe with the mnguolia's leaf; A sparkling stream of joy is poured ;

And all through the garland 'twill lovingly twine, The fleeting moments as they roll,
A winding and friendly relief. Are each with rarest pleasure stored,
Tis FrieiuUhip, most dear in adversity's hour, When thou art near.
Jhat bears the same color forever,
And blooms evergreen in storms, drought, and shower,
When thou art near, no shade of sadness
Can ever fall from sorrow's wing
A something which death cannot sever. ;

The sweetest songs of joy and gladness

I 'U place with the Ivy this Eglantine face My happy heart doth ever slug,
That blossoms so beautiful here, When thou art near.
Whose flowers all teem with poetical grace,
friendship shall render them
When thou art near, not e'en one thought
4i,nd dear.
In wayward flight desires to roam ;

Itseems this sweet sprig of nauilwrn'' s Tvhite bloom. It Reem;i as though the world had brought
Has beseeching peeped forth for a jdace, Its choicest treasures to my home,
Bo here with this sprig, to drive away gloom, When thou art near.
I '11 put thy fair feathery face.
Wheu seem to know
thou art near I

Well now, let me see, what flower will suit best world can hold
All of sweet bliss the ;

Next to twine in this beautiful wreath ; My life is wreathed with pleasure's glow,
Ah, yes mo^t appropriate ! fo'r all are at rest
I With truest happiness untold,
T^is small, precious stem of dear Beath. When thou art near.
 "

OUR GAL.
9T HIST ruBMAX.

I MUST write it ; if nobody ever reads a line With many insolent speeches she departed,
of it, I must, while it is all new and fresh in and inconvenient as it was I w,is glad to see
my mind, write out the history of the last two her go.
weeks and the description of " onr gal," as Of course there was no church, and I began
Harry calls her. to get dinner. Harry, like a masculine angel
Onr gal first made her appearance in the as he is, took off his coat and came down to
house two weeks ago last Monday, and I hailed help me, with an assurance that he actually
her broad face and stout figure with a most could not sit still and hear the cook use the
hearty welcome. Little did I realize but to tone she did, one instant longer. It was a
begin at the beginning. I was, I am a very merry day. Harry raked the fire till his glossy
young housekeeper, theoretically I do yet brown curls were powdered with gr.\v, which
know something and sciences there-
of the arts premature sign of age was produced, he assured
unto appertaining. I was married about two me, by " care, and not the weight of years."
years ago but we have alwiiys boarded until
; He peeled potatoes so beautifully that they
now, and when I started in my pretty house, were about as big as bullets, after he h.id taken
with two good girls, and everything new, I off the skin an inch thick all round. Ties were
fancied that clockwork would be a mere wan- the only article of cookery with which I was
dering vagrant compared to the regularity of pr.actically actjuainted, so I m;ide a meat pie,

ray proceedings. " 'Twas on a Sund.iv morn- two apple-pies, and short-cakes for supper,
ing," as the song says, that my troubles began. which we ate with the dinner at six o'clock.
I was dressing for church, wlien my chamber- It was late enough when we cleared up, but at

maid came up with a rueful countenance. last all was done but one thing. Harry was in
"If yon please, Mrs. Harvey, I 'm going. the bath-room, refresliing himself, when I dis-
"Going!" I exclaimed. "Where?" covered that the coal was all gone. I hated to
"To leave, ma'am I Home! I've got a call him down,
for he had worked hard all day,
spell of neuralgia coming on, and I 'm going so took the scuttle and went down in the cel-
I

home to lay by." lar myself, laughing to think how he would

" But you can lie down here, if you are scold when he knew it. I am a wee woman,

sick." and not very strong, but I filled the big scuttle,
" Well, ma'am, I ain't to say sick, exactly, and tugging aw.iy with both h.ands, started np
but I 'm fixing for a turn." stairs. I was at the top, my labor nearly over,

"A turn?" when somehow, I cannot tell how, I lost ray

" Yes I have neuralgia in spells, and I
; balance. I reeled over, and the heavy thing

always feel 'em a comin'." came with tue, down to the bottom of the stairs.
Words were vain. Go she would, and go she I felt it crushing my foot. I heard Harry's

did. I went into the kitchen to t ;y)lain to the call, and rush down stairs, and then I fainted.
cook th:it she must do double duty for a time. I know now, though I did not then, how he
She was a perfect termagant, and to my utter lifted me in his strong arms, and carried me np
amazement she wheeled around with the cry stairs, and the touch of the cold water which
" Gone Jane gone ! Will you get another! he poured over me is the next thing I remem-
girl?" ber. As soon as I was conscious, and able to
"Certainly." speak, I let him go for a doctor, l.imenting that
"To-day!" mother and Lou were both out of town for the
" How can I get a girl on Snnd.iy ?" summer.
" And to-morrow wash d.ay Well, I 'm not ! Well, well it was a weary night
! no time ;

going to stay to do alt the work. You '11 cither to scold, Harry said, so he petted, nursed, and
get another girl early tomorrow or I'll leave I" tended me, till my heart ached with it^ fulness
" You '11 leave now, in the shortest space of of love and pratitude. Morning found me, my
time it takes to go from here to the door," cried fractured ankle in a box, lying helpless in bed,
Harry, from the sitting-room, where he could and Harry promised to send me a girl imme-
overhear us. diately. So after all this long prelude I come
137
138 godet's lady's book and magazine.

to "our gal." Oh, I must tell you how Harry deep that it seemed to come from the very toes
made me a slice of buttered toast for breakfast, of her slippers.
1)V buttering the bread on both sides, aud then "Well, Mary, first put the room in order
toasting it.
before the doctor comes."
It was about nine o'clock when my new girl
Oh, if words could only picture that scene !

came. Harry had given her a dead-latch key,

Fancy this tall, large, ugly woman, armed (I
so she entered and came up to my door. Her
use the word in its full sense) with a duster,
knock was the first peculiarity that startled
charging at the furniture as if she were stab-
me. One rap, loud as a pistol shot, aud as
bing her mortal enemy to the heart. She stuck
abrupt.
the comb into the brush as if she were saying,
"Come in !" I cried.
"Die, traitor!" and piled up the books as if
With a sweep the door flew back, and in the
they were fagots for a funeral fiame. She gave
space stood my new acquisition. Stop a mo- the curtains a sweep with her hand as if she
ment must describe her. She was very
I I
were putting back tapestry for a royal proces-
tall, very robust, and very ugly. Her thick
sion, and dashed the chairs down in their
black hair grew low on her forehead, aud her
places like a maguificeut bandit spurning a
complexion was a uniform red. Her features
tyrant in his power.
were very large, and her mouth full of (her only
But when she came was
to the invalid she
beauty) white, even teeth. Still, the face was
gentle, almost caressing in her naturalmanner,
far from stupid. The mouth, though large,
propping me up comfortably, making the bed
was flexible and expressive, and the big black
at once easy and handsome, and arranging my
eyes promised intelligence. Kut oh, how can
hair and dress with a perfect perception of my
I describe her " ways," as Harry calls them.
sore condition. And when she dashed out of
She stood for an instant perfectly motionless,
the room, I forgave the air with which she re-
then she swept down in a low, aud really not
turned aud presented a tray to me, for the sake
ungraceful courtesy.
" Madam," she of its contents. Such delicious tea and toast,
said, in a deep voice, "your
most obedient." and such perfection of poached eggs, were an
apology for any eccentricity of manner. I was
"You are"
I said, questioningly.
thinking gratefully of my own comfort, and
" Your humble servant."
This was not " getting on" a bit, so I said
watching her hang up my clothes in the closet

" Are you the girl Mr. Harvey sent from the in her own style, when the bell rang. Like
lightning she closed the closet door, caught up
Intelligence Office ?"
" I am th.it woman," she said, with a flourish the tray, and rushed down stairs. From my
" and here," she added, " is my open door I could hear the following conversa-
of her shawl ;

tion,which I must say rather astonished even

certificate of merit, " and she took a paper from
her pocket. Advancing with a long step, a me, already prepared for any eccentricity.
stop, another step, aud stop, till she reached
Dr. Holbrook was my visitor, and of course

his first question was

my bedside, she handed me the paper with a
" How is Mrs. Harvey this morning ?"
low bow, and then stepping back three steps
she stood waiting me with her In a voice that was the concentrated essence
for to read it,

hands clasped and drooping, aud her head bent of about one dozen tragedies, my extraordinary
servant replied
a-s if it were her death warrant.
" What man art thou ?"
It was a well written, properly worded note
" Is the woman crazy ?" cried the doctor.
from her former mistress, certifying that she
" Lay not that flattering unction to your
was honest aud capable, and I really had no
choice but to keep her, so soul !" cried Mary.
I told her to find her
"H'm yes " said the doctor, musingly;
room, lay her bonnet, and then come to me
off
again. I was half afraid of her. She was not then, in his own cheery brisk tone, he added :

1"
drunk, with those clear black eyes shining so "You are the new servant, I suppose

brightly, but her manner actually savored of

" Sir, I will serve my mistress till chill death

insanity. However, I was helpless, aud then shall part us from each other."
Harry would come as early as he could, and " H'm. Well, now, in plain English, go tell
I
could endure to wait. her I am here."
"Tell me your name," I said, as she came " I go, and it is done
!" was the reply, aud
in witli the stride and stop. with the slow stride and halt I heard her cross
My name the entry. She was soon at my door. "Madam,
'
' is Mary, " she said, in a tone so
 OUR GAL. 139

the doctor waits !'.' she said, standing with one dently, with all her nonsense, she was kind-
arm out in a grand attitude. hearted.
"Let him come up," I said, choking with It took but one day to find that we had
lani;hter. secured a perfect treasure. Her cooking was
She went down apain. exquisite enough for the palate of
an epicure ;

" Sir, from my mistress hare lately come,

I she was neat to a nicety, and I soon found her
to bid you welcome, and implore you to ascend. punctual and trustworthy. Her attentions to
She waits within yon chamber for your coming." myself were touching in their watchful kind-
Is it to be wondered at that the doctor found ness. Sometimes, when the pain w.as very
his patient in perfect convulsions of laughter, severe, and I could only lie suffering and help-
or that he joined her in her merriment. less, her large hands would smooth my hair

"Where did you find that treasure?" he softly, and her voice become almost musical in

asked. its low murmurings of " Poor child Poor little !

" Harry sent her from the office." one I" I think her large strong frame and
"Stage-struck eviilently. though where she consciousness of physical superiority to me in

picked up that fifth cut actress manner reraaius my tiny form .and helpless state, roused all the
to be seen." motherly tenderness of her nature, and she
The professional part of his visit over, the lavished it upon me freely.
doctor stayed for a chat. We were warmly dis- I often questioned her about her former
cussing the news of the day, when whew ! places ; discovered to my utter amazement that
the door flew open, and in st.ilked Mary, and she never was in a theatre, never saw or read
announced, with a swing of her arm a play, and was entirely innocent of novel
"The butcher, madam '." reading.
I saw the doctor's eyes twinkle, lint he began I had become used to her manner, and no
to write in his memorandum book with intense longer feared she was insane, when one eve-
gravity. ning my gravity gave way
and for the
utterly,
" Well, Mary," I said, "he is not waiting ?" first time I laughed in her face. She had been
" The dinner waits !" she rejilied. " Shall I arranging my bed and self for the night, and
prepare the viands as my own judgment shall was just leaving the room, holding in one hand
your inclination dictate to me?"
direct, or will an empty pitcher, and in the other my wrapper.
"Cook them as you will, " I said, "but have Suddenly a drunken ni.an in the street called
a good dinner for Mr. Harvey at two o'clock." out, with a yell that really was startling, though
" Between the strokes 'twill wait his appe- by no means mysterious. Like a flash, Mary
tite." And with another sweeping courtesy struck an attitude. One foot advanced, her
she left the room, the door, as usual, after her body thrown .slightly forward, the pitcher held
exit standing wide open. out, and the wrapper waved aloft, she cried
She was as good .as her word. Without any out, in a voice of perfect terror
orders from me, she took it for granted that "firacious heavings I Wliat hideous screams
Harry would dine up stairs, and set the table is those!"
out in my room. I was beginning to let my Gravity was gone. I fairly screamed with
keen sense of the Indicrous triumph over pain laughter, and her motionless attitude and won-
and weariness, and I w.atched her, strangling dering face, only increased the fun.
the laugh till she was down stairs. To see her "Go down. Miss Mary, or yon will kill me!"
stab the potatoes, and behead the celery was a I gasped at last.
perfect treat, and the air of a martyr preparing Apparently unconscious of the canse of my
poison with which she poured out the water, merriment, she went slowly from the room, wav-
was perfect. Harry was evidently prep.ared for ing, alternately, the pitcher and the wrapper.
fun, for he watched her as keenly as I did. To see her brandish a dust-brush would strike
Not one mouthful would she bring to me. till terror to the heart of the mo.'St daring spider:
she had made it dainty as could be mashing : and no words of mine can describe the frantic
my potatoes with the movements of a saint energy with which she punches pillows, or the
crushing vipers, and buttering my bread in a grim satisfaction on her face at the expiring
m.iuner that fairly transformed the knife into a agonies of a spot of dirt she rubs out of exist-
d.agger. Yet the moment she brought it to ence. The funniest part of all is her perfectly
me, all the affectation dropped, and no mother stolid unconsciousness of doing anything out
could have been more naturally lender. Evi- of the way.
VOL. LXVII. 12
140 godey's lady's book axd magazine.

Harry fouud out the explanation. She has often imitated, and poor Mary unconsciously
lived for ten years with a retired actress and has fallen into the habit of copying their pecu-
actor who wish to bury the knowledge of their liarities. When they left for Europe, she found

past and who never mention the stage.

life, her way to the Intelligence Office, where Hariy
Retaining in private life the attitudes and tones secured her. Long, long may she remain " Our
of their old profession, they have made it a Gal."
kind of sport to burlesque the passions they so

THE OLD LOVE.

ET CLARA AHOCSTA.

HiLDRED IIatxe Sat alone in her qniet parlor. strange, passionless apathy, through the ice of
It was late in November, and a great wood which nothing could penetrate.
fire blazed on the hearth, lighting up the remot- At twenty two, Hildred Hayne was the ac-
est corner of the apartment with a ruddy glare. knowledged belle of her vicinity the liveliest,
The warm light fell full over the lonely woman, gayest girl for miles and miles around. To her
reclining in the wide easy chair, and brought personal grace and beauty, she united charms of
out with vivid distinctness every Hue audcurve mind and heart, far above the common order.
of her motionless figure. Sensitive, high spirited, confiding, and affec-
Miss Hayue had, probably, seen thirty years tionate, she won the love of Paul Lancaster
of though the silver threads iu her temples
life, the only son and heir of Judge Lancaster, at
gave you the impression that she was older. the hall and with the consent of all concerned,
;

She was slight and tall, with deep gray eyes ;

they were betrothed.
abundant brown hair put plainly back from Mr. Lancaster was handsome, well educated,
her forehead, well cut, clearly defined features ;
engaging iu his manners, and self-willed. Never
and a moutU which had once been sweet and in his life had a single wish of bis been allowed
womanly but now, its expression was cold and
; to die ungratified. He knew nothing of disap-
Lard. The crimson
shut tightly, and there
lips pointments, nothing of self sacrifice he was
;

was a steel-like determination about them, at noble and generous ; but impulsive, almost
variance with the tender light in the down- reckless.
cast eyes, and the thoughtful curve of the fair They had been engaged a year, when there
brow. Looking in her face, you know that all came to Portland the city of Mr. Lancaster's
Miss Hayne's life had not passed as quietly as birth a fair southern lady, a distant relative
the days she was now living. The existence of of Paul's mother. Isabel Courtland was beau-
her girlhood was a thing entirely dissevered tiful and and was much in the
fascinating,
fiom the present looking back upon it, she
; society of the Lancasters. There is no need of
could scarcely realize that she was the same enlarging on the subject it was but a repeti-
;

gay girl who, six years ago, had made the Red tion of the old, old story
the first love was
Rock farm-house vocal with the music of her valueless beside the second. Almost before
laughter. he was conscious of his perfidy, Paul Lancaster
For six weary years she had been a recluse. avowed his passion for the fair stranger, and
Her only companions at the farm were the heard the words from her lips which made life
sturdy hired man and his practical wife, who, an Eden.
for hira
under her supervision, managed the fann work. Like a flash of lightning from a cloudless
She had received no company gone none sky came the knowledge to Hildred, that her
abroad she had buried the world and its inter-
; lover was hers no longer. She did not weep,
ests and a little removed from the turmoil of
; or rave she
heard it with a white face, and
the she dwelt on in seclusion. Little
city, nerves like steel her own heart was so true
;

children avoided her. Neighbors never ran in and loyal that it was with difliculty she could
of an evening, for an hour's oliat with her the ; understand such dishonor in the man she loved.
Tery dogs trotted past her gate without halting She did not censure him for loving another
Yet, Mrs. Hayne was
to utter a fiiendly bark. better than herself, and remembering how he
unkind to no living creature. She was only had kept her in ignorance of the change in his
supremely iudifierent. Positive ill temper feelings, slie was cold and unfoi-giving ; and
would have made her more popular than this when she sent Paul free from her presence, it
 ! :

THE OLD LOVE. Ill

vns with the command never to show his face were tender memories at work the spirit of ;

to her again so long as ther both should live. mercy plead with iron-breasted justice she ;

From that time HilJred was an altered being. almost felt that she could forgive Paul Lancas-
She did not pine, or mope, but her youth ter all he had m.ade her suffer. A rap at the
seemed dead. She went about slowly and me- door aronsed her. She waited, expecting old
thodically became hard and calculating in her
; Francis or his wife to answer the call but ;

disposition, and shut out all love from her evidently they did not hear, and, taking up the
heart. When her parents died, within a few lamp, she went herself. The air was thick
months of each other, leaving her all alone in with snow ; and on the door-step, his blue over-
the world, but for her little sister, Mary, she coat gr.iy with the feathery Hakes, stood a man
refused to break up the old establishment at in the Federal uniform. Uo lifted his hat, and
Red Rock farm, as her friends advised, but spoke with courtesy.
lived there still, taking all the responsibility of " Is this the residence of Miss Hildred
the large farm on her own slender shoulders. Hayne ?"
Mary, beautiful, golden-haired Mary, washer "It is," she answered, coldly; "what is
solace the only thing she seemed to love ; to your business ?"
her, she was tender, devoted, and self sacrifi- The young soldier*s bronzed cheek flnsbed at
cing. The sole tie that bound Hildred Hayne her hanghty tone, but he replied with feeling
to humanity Even this was rent away. A
! "Madam, I have in my charge a wounded
malignant fever swept over the vicinity of officer who was given over to die by our regi-
Red Rock farm, and Mary was among the mental surgeon and on his discharge from the
;

first smitten. Three dreadful days of dumb hospital, he made one solemn request, probably
agony to Hildred passed, and, on the morning his last one. He asked to be brought here,
of the fourth, she held her dead sister in her that his dying breath might be drawn in the
arms 1 And when they buried the sweet girl, place where the only happiness of his life had
llildred's human love was laid to rest in her come to him. I, as his friend and subordinate,
grave. Thenceforth, for the dark-eyed, lonely have complied with his request. Shall I bring
woman Red Rock, the world held not a soli-
at him in?"
tary charm Miss Hayne's cool hand trembled slightly a ;

Once only since her banislinient of him had faint quiver of scarlet shot up to her fore-
glie seen Paul Lancaster. The day her sister head.
w.as buried, he had thrown a snow-drop into "What is the gentleman's name?" she
the grave ; and, as he turned away, they two, asked.
Paul and Hildred, met face to face. There "Colonel Paul Lancaster."
was a wild, imploring, passionately tender look She made a movement as if to close the door,
in his eyes a stony, immovable look in hers, but the soldier put himself in the way.
and not a word was spoken. He umierstood her. " Madam, you ra.ay be refusing shelter to a
He went away into the world shortly after- dying man. Reflect liefore you decide. Col.
ward the Hall passed out of the hands of his
; Lancaster was once your friend will you shut;

father, who removed to a distant State, and the door of your house upon him wheu he asks,
Hildred knew nothing more of the family. No with his expiring breath, the cover of its roof ?"
one ever mentioned thera to her she made no ; Miss Hayne underwent a struggle, but it was

inquiries ; she said to herself that she did not only momentary. She threw open the door,
care to know. and called old Francis.
Life passed on monotonously enough. She "Carry him in there," she said, pointing to
hardly noted the change of seasons, except as the warm parlor; "I will come to him directly."
agricultural interests compelled her to do so. She went up chamber, and locked her-
to her
She took thonght for the things of the
little self in. What a fearful trial she passed through
morrow she never looked forward
; it was ; was known only to God and her own soul.
doubtful even if she realized the present. She In a little while she came down, pale and
might have interested herself in the poor, but quiet, and entered the room where they had
she did not she gave nothing to beggars sat
; ; taken her guest. The sofa was drawn up be-
in no sanctuary, and lived a life hidden from fore the fire and the pale, wan face that was
;

the view of all. lifted to meet her eyes, was hardly recognizable
That November night Hildred, for the first as that of the Paul Lancaster she had once
time in many ynars, was looking back over her known.
past life. Somehow her heart felt softer there A slight tinge of color swept the ashen white
U2 godey's lady's book axp magazixe.

of cheek he held out his left haud the

liis ; THE CASKET OF THE YEAR.
other had lost.lie

"Hildred," he said, feebly, "at last I have Br WILLIE E. PABOR.

dared to return to you." Pfarl the Eighth. August.
She took his hand her face snftened, there ;
The summer, lincerin? through the August days
was a little tremor in her voice. " I am pleased Laugaid aud iudoleut, by bigns betrays
to welcome you. Col. Lancaster." Her lack of promise;
" By the memory of the sweet past, 0, Hil- The flower that droops beiieatli its sultry rays
The laws of Nature forced to feel, obeys,
dred, let me stay where I can sometimes look
And passes from us.
at you 1 I ouly asked God to let me live until
I could come here to die! until, dying, I conid Now at the even-tide the Katy-did,
Within the branches of the willow hid,
plead for and obtain your forgiveness I You Repeats her story ;

will not refuse me, Hildred ?" While the grasshoppers in the hedges say.
" I liave buried all enmity," she said, slowly In their quaint utterance, "either way.
and .solemnly " we will forget what has been
;
It yields no glory."

and be friends. Where shall I address a letter The cricket on the hoarth-stone chirps ; the air
to your relatives ?" Is full of Ureflies, flitting here aud there,
" I have none near enongh to care for my The meadows over ;

(A Hfoorish legend runs: the spirits thus

misfortunes. My father is dead my sister ;
Of the departed come to visit us,
sleeps in a foreign grave. I have neither friends Friend, child, or lover.)
iior relatives."
The corn's brown tassels woo the wanton wind
She looked at him with dumb wonder. Per-
;

The grain-stalks topple with their wealth in kind.

haps he understood the doubt expressed in her As tliey were planted ;

face, for he said, as if in explanation : And swarthy reapers through oppressive hours
"No, Hildred; I have never married. The Scythe-swiuging, are lejoiciug in the dowers
By nature grauted.
fo'st love of my life was the one true love of my
soul. My
fancy for Isabel Courtland was a And here and there the gleaners follow fast
Their footsteps, gathering a ricli repast
brief passion. It died a speedy death, and I
WitJi ghid demeanor;
buried it out of my sight. Hildred, I have
Eecalling the familiar story, found
never loved any woman save you !" In sacred writ, upon historic ground.
She laid her hand on his forehead softly ; Of Ruth, the Gleaner.
the hardness and gloom went out of her face ;
And we, by sea-shore, or in some retieat
the lines of determination around her month Where quiet reigns, familiar faces meet
were smoothed away she was kind, and len- ; Or, sad and weary.
der, and womanly. We watch the shadows lengthen from the west
" Sleep !" she said, gently ;
" henceforth no- And say, "He all things ordereth for the best,
Tet life is dreary."
thing save death shall divide us !"
From that hour a wonderful change came we muse upon the summers past.
For, as

Once more she was hu- Come memories that will forever last,
over Hildred Hayne.
Of joy and gladness ;

man ; the world held interests for her she ;

This summer, in its going, takes away
left her solitary life of selfisliuess, and did good A sorrow that outlives its longest day
to those around her. The poor blessed her Of grief and sadness.
name ; the little children Hocked around to kiss So, as we journey through the year of life.

lier ; the stray dogs took bread from her hands The pearls from out its casket Jrop, in strife
without fear. 'Twixt joy and son ow ;

Shadow and sunliglit thus in conflict stand

Col. Lancaster owed his life to her unremit-
Until we reach the confines of the land
ting care and when, atlast, he rose up, maimed
and
;

but chastened and purified by long

feeble,
suffering, Hildred became his wife.
That hath no morrow.
I
The old, hanl existence was forever cast
aside ami to-day you can find no more womanlij
;

Effects op Wine. WiBe heightens indiffer-
womau than Hildred Lancaster. ence into love, love into jealousy, and jealousy
into madness. It often turns the good-natured

man into an idiot, and the choleric into an

Wf. would gain more if we left ourselves to assassin. It gives bitterness to resentment, it

Tppear sucli as we are, than by attempting to makes vanity insupportable, and displays every
appear wliat we are not. little spot of the soul in its utmost deformity.


OUR SENTIMEXTAL JOURNEY LAY Z. BOXES AXD I.

lABRT HAREWOOS LCBCH.

Say, will j-ou go with me ? Not to the war. is changed. Still the old porch is crowded ;

For you travel over tlie horrors of tlie fray with still the little chancel is tilled, lint the whis-
your morning coffee, digest skirmislie.s .it din- pers are hushed, and sobs are but sad sympho-
ner, have scouting parties at tea, and a uiglit- nies. The old church is full, but a coffin stands
mare when the bursting of shell drowns the before the altar, and the pastor's voice is

lierce shout of foemen, and riderless horses broken. (Ah! he recollects that of/ier scene.)
trample to the red earth the dead and dying. His hair is gray, and the hair is gray of the
Ah, yes you have too much of this. There-
! weeping woman by the coffin, and the forms iu
fore, not to the war. the high-backed pews are crooked with age
But let us take a trip over the bustling land youth is not here with Death. Let us go away,
and bounding waves. You shall come with or we shall weep. Not towards the little stones
me, and I will lend you my eyes. You shall in the graveyard, all green with age, and
not only see blue peaks and very common- almost buried in the dark grass. No I not
place valleys, but Lay Z. Bones and I would have there ! And this is why we pause by the old
yon contemplate through our spectacles (and church, my dear Lay Z. Bones. It is not simply
they are not green) the great rich hills which au abandoned building to us, but a saored ruin.
lay afar off in the hazy distance, and lind them And come back, tunefnl
the voices of the Past
vernal-clad temples whose minarets touch hea- with sad melodies, yet so good to be remem-
ven. We shall see the loui; shaded valleys, bered now and then by us all. And again,
threaded by serpentine, coiling rivers which this is why we will trip along and leave the
kiss the feet of the towering hills, as the lazy old ivy-clad ruin with such tender and womanly
streams flow outward, singing toward the sea, regrets. Are you sorry you came with me first
and we think this the river of Life, rippling pently here, ere we leave this by-way for the path of
toward the Ocean of Immortality. "Slopl" I the busy world ?

say to Lay Z. Bones. " This is not merely au Don't you like this bustling depot, eh ? Tliere
old crumbling church beneath these elms. We is so much and chnracter here, and that
life

do not perceive in its decay but the rascality hUL'e monster, snorting and puffing like a colos-
of a mason, or incompetency of a country car- sal land porpoise, connects our thoughts with
penter. Nay, it is clinging as full of sweet towns and such a good frinnd he is, too,
far-olT ;

memories to us as it is of old ivy which hang for on the iron pathway be carries us past
in matted festoons from its cracked walls. Here charming landscapes, and over broad, far-reach-
is the old porch, too ; naught is left but the ing rivers and iu a rapid panorama, which in
;

qu.aint old pillars, carved at the base, where our speed seems almost a gloriously-colored
they have parted in decay from the portiou dissolving view, we see picturesque villages
under ground, and rest on the velvety moss. nestling in the heart of mammoth hills, whose
There is no light in the chancel now, save the sides aredecked with wild flowers, whose feet
glow of the sunset now no anthems are heard
; are washed by quiet streams, and whose pe.iks
from the rude choir, and even the good old man are crowneil with exquisite, iridescent sunset
(fur how good he was, you recollect, even if he clouds, and then we dash through walls of
knew not Latin, and did not lecture in the granite, and over plains, and through black
city) is not heard with his cracked voice and tunnels which recalls Dante's lines :

perhaps poor, rude Yet to us, dear Lay

logic. "Gli occhi, diss' lo, mi fleoo ancor qni tolti."
Z. Bones, the old porch groans with its living " Mine eyes may yot have to endure the blindness in
Weight of youth, and joy, and hope. The this place, etc."

chancel gives a hollow echo to the quiet laugh And the-n we have beside a great book inwhich
and love-breathing whisper; the church is to study as we trip along our five hundred
thronged, and over the heads of those in the miles a day. Oh, the meanness in that pinched
high-backed pews, and past the crowding forms face before ns ! The conceit in the superci-
in aisles, up to the altar, we glance and see the lious eyes on the platform ! Tlie vulgarity
pair who pledge their vows of love be fore Heaven and coarseness iu that red-faced, huge neck-
and the Man of God ; and like a dream the view tied animal in the aisle. That is a young wife,
12* 143
1-1 -i GODEY 3 LADY S BOOK AXD MAGAZINE.

Lay Z. Bones, I wiH wager. See how keenly visit leMaison Dorce in the brilliant citi dis
slie enjoys this exciting life of the traveller Italiens. Here is the piquant marchnnde with
IIow she points out the pretty spots to her her high cap, rich brown hair, striped p-'tticoat,
hushand, and oh the wretch he gives her
! I and Lay Z. Bones says, " What handsome
hack never a smile, and dives more deeply in ankles above her wooden shoes !" But above
the insipid newspaper. El tu, Brute ! why, all nonsense we are saddened wlien wa
his
you are nearly asleep, ray friend, or are you come to view The Louvre. How the thoughts
peeping out under your eyelids at that pretty of the mediaral ages rise up as one paces the
woman mourning ? What if she is a coquette,
in courts of the historic palace Titian again !

sir? Ihave no flirtation here

will Hang her I assists the architect, Pierre Lescot designs for
beautiful eyes Look out ou the stars from
! Francis 1st, and what a troupe of Italy's sculp-
the car-window, and notice the quiet which tors and painters come with Catherine De
broods over the country beyond, and how the Medicis, and thought even flies to sweet Mary
pallid moon floods the whole landscape with a Stuart, who passed the only brief happiness
limpid, garish light. Ah ! we are approaching here of her whole life ; and we hum as we leave
our seaport town, are we ? and want our great- its sacred walls the very tune which marked
coats, and soon our baggage. See see, my I the plaintive farewell of Mary when she left
friend, the broad expanse of waters, and the the shores of France. Shall I give it to you
ripples of dancing diamonds, and smell the that you may set it to some mournful music
fresh, br.acing sea air Ah ah how delicious
! I ! I and sing it when you are brooding in the twi-
How appetizing ! And the great ship which light, but yet happy ?
upon the waters, nodding to us gayly as
floats " Adieu plai.ant pays de Franco
!

we go down to the pier. Every spar says O, ma patrie I

" How d 'ye do I" " How d 'ye do 1" And the La plus ch(iiie
wind through the cordage is giving us a sere- Qui as uourri ma joune enfance.
Adieu, France! adieu, loes beaux jours !"
nade. Let us on board On board And now I I

we realize the corsair's exultation, for And we too will bid adieu to the palace, or
"Who can tell save he whose heart hath tried, memories cluster so thickly, that we should
And tlaac'd io triumph o'er tlie waters wide, think a volnme ere we could indite a page.
The extiltiag sease the pulse's maddening play Let us pass the galleries with their treasures of
That thrills the wanderer of the trackless way !" .

art, or as each master salutes us from his fr.ame

Through long days of changing, health-giving we must dot down our thoughts, Prince Lay Z.
pleasure throughlongnightsof strange though
: Bones and I.

sweet experiences perhaps tlirough storms,

; Let us pass by Le Jardin de V Infante ; it has
and certainly 'mid broodings ou the stars, and no particular interest to us, although she who
rapt contemplation of the waste of waters and named it was the Infanta, and dust for two
the vault of heaven, its reigning Day King or hundred years cheated by Prince, afterward
;

its Queen of Night, rising and setting ou the King Louis xv, and dying in a Spanish con-
great passion-panting sea, as we watch the vent, why should we weep when ages have
wild changes like a hungry soul yes, through ;
lapsed, and the world's poets have never
all this (and even Lay Z. Bones shares our crowned her memory with a song ? But we
experience) we reach a distant counti-y. Now must hasten away or our eyes jritl moisten at
for messieurs of the customs, and messieurs remembrance of the wrongs of the poor girl,
for the passports, and messieurs the spies, whom who loved like a womau although she was a
you think are but simple citoijens, curious, but princess.
so well-bred. Oh, let us visit a convent Say St. Vincent !

Of course we land in la belle France first, for de Paul, where we shall feel more sinful in the
we intend raking staid old England as we come holy, quiet, and religious light we have passed ;

back, pretty sure that the island will not be the ordeal of tlie porteress and the Lady Su-
moved away ere we do so. You may be cer- perior, and, shall we confess it ? our heart
tain, Lay Z. Bones, that this is Paris. Eevo- hitherto untouched, trembles with a new emo-
lutionary, artistic, fashionable Paris I Em- tion before the vision of the beautiful sister

bodied Anachronism Living, Louis Napoleonic !

Agatha. She is like an angel of goodness and
Paris What marvellous houses, what strange-
!
light which comes to us in some memory of our

ly narrow streets, and now what wonderfully pure childhood she looks at us witli her earnest
;

wide squares ! Let us take a cabriolet, et allcz eyes, and smiles till even Lay Z. Bones, who
done ; we whirl along Lcs Bouhcardes ; we shall says he is blaze, blushes.
 OUR SEXTIMEXTAL JOUnXEY LAY Z. BOXES AXD I. 146

"These visitors are from a far off land," the of Lamartine, Michelet, Rabelais, and Voltaire if
superior savs, *'6iVh /om, bien loin ati dtld dtis you pleifre, but as our diliijence is waiting (and
ineis from America." "Hoe's last fast" press is a blustering postil-
And tlie smile of the vision thanked us, lion), and Lay Z. Bones with American eager-
beamed thanks from tlie tender eyes, ami the ness is anxiims to post through the fair country
tongue framed some simple words of thanks for to look at the low vine-clad cottages, which dot
our small triliute to the charities of the con- the plains beyond Paris ; to ogle the handsome
vent. I am silent when we leave St. Vincent, peasant girls with striped petticoats which they
and the gayety of my friend fails to rally me. wear short on purpose to pluck the purple ;

I am thinking of the " merci/" of Sister Agatha, grapes which cluster by the road side at every
and I shall never forget that face. We pass inn, and hasten into Gascony, that he may be
through the Quarticr Latin and see how the cheated by the natives, who, I tell my friend,
students rally in sets and how distinctive a ; can even swindle a Yankee. We dash on
class they are, with their long hair, extraordi- through a lovely country, past huge rocks and
nary garments, and revohiliouary principles, shadowy woods, their colors cheering my eyes
which is constitutional with them; and 1 have as if my passionate love for sweet mother
but just pulled Lay Z. Bones away from a liuge nature was a religion, which deepened all other
fellow with whom he was quarreling in very delicious appetites and loves and feelings.
bad French, the point of dispute being "whether And so, after days o( dolcc far niente, we leave
it is better for a gentleman who has holes in sweet France, and awaking one fine morning
his boots to get them mended, or black the Lay Z. Bones and 1 find ourselves in Spain.
stocking of doubtful white beneath so the hole On a cluster of hillocks, in the midst of an arid,
would be nnperceived ?" My friend took the and uneven plateau, Madrid lies, full of lazy
American view of the question, which was beauty, and as we saunter through the Plaza
considered personal by the embryo (jros-bonnet de Toros we discover ihat we have come so many
( professor), and by my action the metapliysi- thousands of miles to see a bull fight But we I

oal question remained unsolved perhaps to are faint with the heat and " Malditos !" the
this day. savage fight in the vast circus, and we push
I shall not dilate now on the Morgue where out past some handsome Andalusians to be
the bodies of the unknown dead are placed, nor stopped by a lusty beggar who looks like a
tell you of the touching scenes we witness here ; grandee in disguise. He thrums his cracked gui-
for after all Lay Z. Bones has a tender heart, tar and sonorously speaks: "Hermanitos! por
and I should record his sensihility if I did, el amor de la santissima Virgen !" And as the
wliich does credit to anymanhood. For say I, rascal looks as if it would be pleasant to open a,
a man may have a woman's heart and yet bo vein for us, we give him alms " for the love of
able to strike a hard blow, and the tenderness the blessed Virgin." But we must not linger
of a woman's nature does not weaken the brain long in this sunny land, for, shall I tell you, wo
of an Irving or Humbolilt. feel here as in a garlanded tomb. Alas, poor
Ah ! if space would permit, we should weave Spain ! where is thy grandeur gone I Where is
you a pretty romance out of the liower market, the glory of the .ilhambra, and the chivalry of
and tell you how we were crowned with all thy sons Once the master, now the mockery of
?

flora's wealth for a few sous; explore with you nations ; we roam amongst her towered castles
the galleries of the Rue Rivoli and tell you ;
by the side of famed streams, but we only be-
how when coming from an ull^e of the Bois de hold them in the light of the Past. History has
Boulogne we are assailed by the loud voices of made them sweet to us we love their romance,
;

women with baskets on their arms who cry: but dare not pause with the reality. Pope
" VoiiUz votts piaisir, messieurs /"'
(Itt
sung of Rome, but Spenser thought of Spain
And how having bought the " plaisir"
after when his sad muse wrote :

it crumbles into dust

(wafer of sweets), find that
"High towers, fair temples, goodly theatres,
ere we give it a chance to melt in our mouth ; Struug walls, rich porcbes, princely palaces,
take you as a friendly chaperone through the Fiae streets, brave houses, sacred sepalchies,
wonderful ca/^s, to a riotous hat masque after le Sure gates, sweet i,'atdens, stalely galleries
grande opera ; discover to you the marvellous
All these (ohpity!) yow are lurn'd tu dust,
!

And overgrown with black Oblivioa's rust."

atmosphere of Boueme, and bid you say it is
rosy, if you are not stifled with tobacco smoke; We may stray with bur vagaries, dear reader,
bid you read French sentiment, wit, and phi- into Portugal, or take you with us in our sen-
losophy, andpreseut you with the latest editions timental journey through the steppes of Russia ;
143 GOPEY'S lady's book and SrAGAZIXE.

but don't give a premonitory shiver, for we prehend the materialism of the present, but
will not. We might climb the Alps, 'and lose can you comprehend the softening, illuminat-
ourselves in historic Greece, and, as we stand ing, spiritualizing efi^ect of such philosophical
on the Jardin of Mont Blanc of the former, we and sentimental journeys as we are taking ?
could swell these pages with the grandeur of The indwelling forms of beauty which saves us
the mountain which dwarfs the Jura ; or live a from what has been rightly called "the curse
Homeric age again in the latter country fabled, of the age" weariness of self; that restless-
famous Greece. For who loves not the poet's ness of spirit with which so many chafe through
creation of Achilles ? Who does not strive to the voids left by work, pleasure, or pursuit.
rival Ulysses ? But though the lagoons of Think of this and to please you and the prin-
;

South America, with their adventures, and ter, we will come from still-breathed, classic
beasts, and rare mosses woo us, the Sheiks of Italy towards home, i'ia that stanch Freeman's
Turkey interest us, and the Rajahs of India Estate, Merrie England. John Bull, Esquire,
positively are seductive, still we tloat towards owner and proprietor.
Italy surely and swiftly. There is a magnetism "It is good to speak English once more,"
which draws us towards Rome a spirit which ; says Lay Z. Bones.
calls us softly to Florence. And Lay Z. Bones Say I: "It is good to feel the Anglo-Saxon
and I pay our hotel bills, engage new caldts, hand, and see the marks of Anglo-Saxon power
who shall, on the score of economy, serve as and progress, to feel the pulses bound with a
guides also, and soou enter the Holy City. We new sense of freedom, to
were dwelling on Art, and Glory, and Religion, "Have a good cut of roast beef at Mor- '

and sooner find the Vatican and the Catacombs ley's ?' "* quoth Lay Z. Bones.
than our hotel. We behold the works of Ra- And I am left at the foot of Charing-Cross in
phael, and are wrapt in admiration of Murillo's London, and may have a cold slice of the statue
Madonna but as we left the side of the Venus
; of Charles I., if I please, with sauce. The
de Medici, a voice exclaims that he " don't like deuce take moralizing The deuce take all !

those stone gals," and again we hasten away London, and especially the vulgar thief who
ignorance and vulgarity have broken the charm, stole ray pocket-book as I was contemplating
and our grosser humanity seeks the Uible d'li6le, Northumberland House opposite.
stifling our emotions with maccaroni. (Lay Z. But philosophy comes as naturally to travel-
Bones, as I write, insists that I mean lazzaroni. lers as extortions to innkeepers and Lay Z. ;

Poor fellow He soon will know the difference.

I Bones and I jog along as merrily to Canterbury
What a charm, thus wandering in Italy I 1 next day as if we had a mi.lion sterling each in
know the vagrancy of feeling. Do you, and the funds.
you ? But what a wealth of thought thus But another day, perhaps, we shall describe
reaped and garnered for life Here, on the I
the old buildings here, and give you some de-
banks of the Arno, the unquiet spirit has in a gree of information about old Oxford which
manner folded its wings, and the richness of Tom Brown shall go with
don't disclose. You
coloring which reclothes and rebeautifies the us to quiet, stately Windsor and after wan- ;

green banks is as tender as the beauties on the dering to that Mecca, Stratford- von-Avon, take
hills of Attica. Glorious skies reflected in calm rail for Birmingham, and Nottingham, and
and almost waveless water; Nature, through Sheffield,and some other 'hams, and 'fields,
the whole of this Italian garden, has massed her and where the busylooms throb through
'shires,
wealth, brightest birds, and brilliant flowers ; the great towns, and steam, and brain, and
lovely vegas, rich, soft, and sunny ; vine-clad muscle create kings who sit on thrones of
hills ; plains covered with scented groves money-bags monarchs who in return destroy
lakes lying bright and smiling in sunshine, their living subjects.
lapped by wooded slopes temples white and
all, we have but skimmed over the
;
And, after
cloud-crowned on the hills looking outward
countries we have named. Lay Z. Bones and I
toward placid seas Art and Nature in a dreamy
;
and
and it is so sweet to find in each tree,
embrace. Is it strange that Heaven should
house, church, or sleeping village some signi-
smile, and the earth be glad ?
ficance which escapes the careless observer,
But even while we thus drink in beauty and
that we have asked your company in our sen-
give utterance to our dreams. Lay Z. Bones is
timental journey. And would you believe,
discussing an omelette in the shade, and laugh-
ing at me, and I think with a sad prescience. * Hotel in London where Americans "most do con-
How many of you are doing so, too ? I com- gi*ejrale."


GET KN'OWLEUGE. 147

Epliemeial Butteilly, Esq., that we find clianns from them all the wealth of thought they seek
in every oloiiri which Hecks tlie sky in every
;
to impart. No intellect can possibly hold com-
patch of sunsliine wliicli rests on woody dells munion with nature without having some of
and throws strange shadows over the waters ? nature's own grandeur stamped upon it. The
It is so, indeed And what a strange tnition
I contemplative mind, alive to the grand teach-

we receive those of us who own emotion as a ings and harmonies of the universe, cannot
master ! Where all was hefore dull, leaden help finding with the Bard of Avon
earth, a cultivated taste will soon transform "Tongues in trees, books in the running hrooka,
into blooming canseways, hillsides reel with Sermons iu stones, and good in everything."
Strange wild flowers, brooks sing tunes which Not only does nature spread out her vast
snoh souls interpret as though hummed to volume for our instruclion and mental enlarge-
their spirits by angel voices. Pictures are ment hut the generations of the past have
:

graved upon our hearts, the beauty of which lived for us. The millions who have thought
is not eU'aced when the reality has passeiL before us, albeit they are in their graves and
No, they remain complete, satisfactory, and are have been for centuries, think for us now.
framed with most tender memories. Faces are Their gathered treasures, bronght from innu-
revelations we see in them traits of humor,
; merable sources and from all conditions and
quaint individualism, and grotesque originality grades of mind, even the wealth of ages, W8
we have books before us where we can always have in books. Surely we ought to get know-
re.ad of love, devotion, and valor, as in the ledge, and be the wiser and better for what
darker background we can see and study a others have thought and written in the past.
tragic face like Salvatoh would paint. Books, too, are cheap in our day, and know-
Take our advice, and always be ready for ledge condensed and thrown into snjall limits.
Sentimental Journeys like our own. Then there is the book the Bible a book
which is full of wisdom, full of information
upon every subject in any way related to otir
intellectual or moral nature. God himself, tho
GET KNOWLEDGE. fountain of all trnth, the source of all know-
BY F. S. C. ledge, there speaks Christ, who came to be
!

Ijfnorance is tho curse of Ood,

" the light of the world," there speaks as never
Knowledge the wing wherewilh we tiy to heaven. man spake There, too, speak all the holy and
!

SUAKSPEARB. wise men of God who have lived and died and
The cultivation of the mind is a duty which ascended to rest. Truths are here which only
every man owes to himself and society. All God himself could reveal truths that burn
that he may know he is bound to know by the and flame with their own divinity !

very conditions of his mental and moral being. Nature, history, and revelation all unfold
All knowledge is useful. The more a man their pages and lay their gathered treasures at
knows the greater his happiness and usefulness, our feet, reader they have noble designs to-
;

provided he i)ut it to the right use. Every idea ward us they would enlarge and enrich us
;

bo gains, every truth he gleans from nature, with true knowledge and wisdom. If, as one
science, or so much wealth and
religion, is has said
treasure, compared which dollars and cents
to " He who hinds
are literally nothing. Hence his mind sliould His sonl to knowledge steals the key of heuveu,"
always be active, always seeking after additional ought it not to be the ambition of every rational
gains in knowledge. Truth, valuable truth, intelligence to "intermeddle with all know-
belongs to everything we see above, around, ledge?" If so, "go thou and do likewise."
beneath us. We cannot move a step without

something to think about something that will
enlarge the limits of our knowledge, and be of A Broken FoKxtrxB. Ovid finely compares a
service to us in practical, every-day life. The broken fortune to a fallen column the lower ;

great variety of objects in nature, their multi- it sinks, the greater weight it is obliged to sus-

form relations and dependencies, cannot be tain. Thus, when a man's circumstances are
without the design of enriching our minds and such that he has no occasion to borrow, ho
hearts. It is, therefore, our duty to consider finds numbers willing to lend him but should ;

them and evolve from them truth and know- his wants be such that he sues for a trifle, it
ledije. We wrong ourselves, wrong our intel- is two to one whether he m.ay be trusted with
lectual and moral natures, if we do not draw the smallest sum.
 ^w ^UmoHam.
Died, at her residence in Philadelphia, May 3, 1S63, Sarah Josepha Halk, roun{?est daughter of Mrs. Sarah
Josepha and the late David Hale, Eiq., of Kew Hampshire.

ALTHoufiH no day passes without removing She afterwards, at intervals, spent several years
from some circle those whose places can no at the South, honorably filling the duties of her
more be filled those whose passage into eter- profession, ayd eventually declining a tempting
nity has unsealed fountains that must never and lucrative ofi'er to remain as principal of a
cease to flow, and dried up the sources of prominent seminary in Georgia her aflectionate
;

smiles and joys that in this cannot be boi'nlife nature rendering a further separation from

again death still conies into our midst, with a family ties an evil which outweighed all con-
pang as fresh, as poignant, as if we only were siderations of interest. Finally, Miss Hale
allotted to bear the sting as if we alone were
; established, about seven years ago, a seminary
called upon to lay at the footstool of the Com- for young ladies in Philadelphia, the success of
forter a burden such as He has never yet laid which fully rewarded her modest desires. From
upon the children of men. this career of usefulness it has pleased God to
There is no household into which this expe- remove and though friendship may not at
her,
rience has not entered, no hearth around which first be able to suppress the lament of sorrow,

mourners have not gathered, sorrowing for or check the tear of regret, it will find its best
those who have gone, ere their career of use- consolation in echoing her own words of faith
fulness on earth, judged by our limited vision, and resignation: "Thy will, and not mine, be
has been accomplished. done."
In the case of women generally, this sorrow, The solidity and range of Miss Hale's acquire-
this regret, is confined to a comparatively lim- ments were far beyond those generally pos-
ited number relatives, and tlie friends and sessed by women. Her reading was extensive
companions of social life. But, when, as in the and varied her familiarity with general litera-
;

instance before us, the departed occupied a ture rendering her a valuable associate to the
position which brought her into responsible youthful, and a most responsive and interesting
relations with numbers who were placed within companion. Habituated through life to the
lier influence, as pupils, or as associates in the society of persons of literary tastes and habits,
important jMSt which she filled as a teacher of she naturally occupied herself at intervals with
youtli, the circle of mouruers becomes more her pen. Numerous graceful little articles
extended. It is for this reason because she were furnished by her for the magazines and ;

was revered and loved in manya distant home much heavy and laborious work, of
of that
because her teachings and example have borne which authors and publishers alone know
fruit which will multiply in generations yet to the details, in her aptitude of assisting her

come it is because the example of the faithful mother, passed from time to time through her
in well doing, the meek in heart, and the holy hands.
in life, without record, that
should not be left It was as an epistolary writer, however,
we have drawn her name from the shade in that she excelled. The restraint which the
which she herself loved to dwell, that it may consciousness of addressing an audience im-
serve as an example for others, as well as prove poses, was here unfelt, and her impressions of
an acceptable tribute to her memory for the the persons and events passing before ber, m
many who loved and honored her in life. were sketched off with a playful humor andl
Mi.^s Hale was born at Newport in New power of analyzing character, that was charm-
Hampshire. Deprived in infancy of the tender ing to those whose privilege it was to read her
care of an affectionate father, she was left to letters.
the sole guardianship of her mother, Mrs. The office of teacher, was, certainly, the one
Sarah Josepha Hale, whose training and influ- she loved best. Her heart was in her school
ence in early life gave the bent to her cha- few instructors, probably, have better exem-
racter. She was educated for the important plified the poet's ideal, that "to teach" may be
office of a teacher at the well-known seminary a "delightful task," than did our friend, whose
of Mrs. Willard, at Troy, New York, where she instrnctions will bear the precious fruits of
was distinguished for her talents and diligence. goodness in future years, when the loving and
14S
 '

IN MEMORIAM. 149

sorrowing pupils, wlio wept li.r pi>Mii;itiue year of her school found some of her pupils
death, have become uoble, U:ieful, aud houurud ready for baptism or confirmation.
womeu iu our laud. When disease insidiously sapped the springs
Miss Bale's mental training fitted her pecu- of strength, she was prepared, with calmness
liarly to inllueuce aud guide the young. Per- and trusting faith, to await the issue. And when
fectly self coutrolled, her sway was as calm aud the Lour opened which was to be her last ou
geutle as it was firm, and the regard which she earth, she was still at her post, exercising her
wou was based upon the surest of all fouuda- faculties, and performing her duties in that
tions respect. She was warm in her affections, station of life which it had pleased God to call
though somewhat reserved iu their exhibition, her. "She has been faithful over a few things;"
trustful and steady iu her friendships, consist- to such is promised a rich reward. The good
ent in her life, walking ever beneath the broad Teacher holds a position of honor as well as
banner of Tkcth, without which there is no responsibility scarcely inferior to that of the
foundation for integrity of character. good mother. An eminent writer has well
On those higher and more solemn oliaracter- said: "The from God;
Teacher's mission is

istics, her religious life and profession, we do and whether this teaching be that of masters
not feel ourselves qualified to dwell. In this, aud mistresses in their schools or that of the ;

as iu all things, her consistency was exhibited. mother who clusters her little ones around her
Earnestly impressed with the truths of Chris- knee or that of the nurse, from whom the
;

tianity, and making a public profession of her infant catches the first meaning of the different
faith in Christ in her early youth, her faith w.-is tones of the human voice a mission from
; it is

a part of her nature. Except in the line of her God ; it is

ennobled by Him and, if it be car-
duty, she seldom spoke on this subject, but ried on for Him, it will, in eternity, take rank
every action of her life showed that she was amid the great things which were done by God's
induenced by its teachings. And almost every people in time."

MIRIAM'S DUTY.
JV J. E. W.

The business committee of the Arrowdale a time everything was made subservient to
sewing society had assembled in the parlor of Richard's advancement. He was spoiled from
the directress to prepare work for the next one cannot wonder at his evil course. '
his birth ;

gathering. The preliminaries having been ar- " Miriam might have been well married, if it
ranged, the ladies were able to converse upon had not been for her devotion to her parents,"
things in general, aud the neighborhood in remarked a third lady.
particular. " William Wright treated Miriam shame-
" Does Miriam Grant intend to take home fully."
her dissipated brother, Mrs. Morse ?" "Oh, that was only a childish affair such
" Yes Richard has fallen so low that no one
; rarely end in marriaee. But what will she do
will shelter Miriam considers it a duty
him. for support, Mrs. Morse ? Parents will scarcely
to receive the degraded man." like to place their children in a family contain-
" I am not sure that it is a duty to place ing such a member as Richard."
one's self in contact with the vile. Provision " Miriam is conscious of that. She will quit
is m.ide by law for such personsbut Miriam ; teaching ; but her plans for the future are un-
seems desirous of becoming a martyr." formed."
Mrs. Morse was about to reply that .lesns sat The tall elms at the bottom of the court cast
down with publicans and sinners ; but, recol- dark shadows over the large, square hou<e
lecting that her interlocutor had suffered her which some sixty years before Deacon Grant
father to die in the almshouse, she merely had erected, much to the admiration and some-
said :
" Miriam has been a model of self-denial what to the envy of the inmates of the adjnin-
since her childhood. After the deacon failed, inghomesteads. Now the weather-stained walls,
she became the staff of the household ; R.aohel dilapidated out-buildings, and rickety fence
was spared because she was the beauty, and told the story of wealth diminished and family
Mrs. Grant was too fine a lady for labor. For decaved.


150 godey's lady's book and magazixe.

On the old-fashioned window-seat of a west- looks ; such a nice bonnet and dress 1 and she
ern window in tlie spacious parlor, sat Miriam. says she made them herself."
The last rays of a glorious autumn sunset This orphan child Miriam had educated gratu-
lighted up the sweet face, and tinged the wavy- itously. The past six months had been spent
brown hair with golden tints. The soft hazel with an aunt, who conducted a fashionable
eyes are fixed on the glowing sky the shapely ; store in Boston. These months had eflected a
hands flitted rapidly over the knitting-needles ; wonderful change in Clara. The tall, awkward,
hut the clouds were not seen, nor the work bashful girl had developed into a pretty young
heeded. Back, far back had the thoughts lady, with easy, well-bred manners. Her dress,
wandered. Again she is the petted child of without being expensive or showy, was neat and
the aristocratic family. Memory recalls the tasteful. Miss Grant regarded her with satisfac-
stern, but kind father ; the gentle, but helpless tion, and, as she assured her admiring school-
mother; the beautiful, imperious, elder sister; mates that she did really and truly make her
the wayward, but warm-hearted, generous dress and bonnet herself, a new idea was sug-
brother. Then came the dark days of misfor- gested. Though she had quietly announced her
tune days when the strong man bowed him-
;
decision to give up her school and receive her
Fflf, and the grasshopper became a burden ;
brother, the resolution cost her much anxiety.
and the weak woman, sinking under her afflic- "God provide;" but she knew that He
will
tion, became as helpless as an infant. Next works through the many contingencies of our
tlie sister's marriage, which amounted to alie- daily lives. She knew that she must live by the
nation, and the brother's downward career. labor of her hands ; but till that moment the
Other troubles were in store for the devoted future had been completely veiled. Instantane-
girl troubles which rankled none the less be- ously it flashed upon her that the long unused
cause they were silently locked within the shop end of the avenue could be fitted up
at the
heart. The weary years, the patient care and for a dressmaking and millinery establishment.
untiring vigils are ended Miriam Gr.ant is an ; Such a store was needed in the village she ;

orphan worse than brotherless and sisterless. had good taste and ready fingers with Clara's ;

A maintenance must be secured an honorable knowledge they could certainly succeed. While
situation as a teacher is obtained ; but the the giddy girls chatted on, the plan grew in
brother goes from bad to worse, till now he has Miriam's mind. The deacon had done his
become wholly dependent on his overtasked youngest daughter the justice to bequeath the
sister. Little wonder that in that quiet hour remnant of his fortune to her. Application
the lone woman questioned the Divine decrees. had recently been made for the purchase of a
Why must she, year after year, uphold others, house lot from her garden Miriam had hesi-
;

who would so gladly find rest and support ?" tated, but now she determined to sell in order
The answer came, an angel whisper breathed to obtain the means for her new enterprise.
to the soul " It is more blessed to give than
: Clara's concurrence having been obtained,
to receive. Give, and it shall be given to you, , the business was commenced by the sale of the
good measure, pressed down and shaken to- land, and workmen were engaged for the re-
gether, and running over." pairs needed at the shop. At the end of the
Quieted and strengthened, the lady arose to month the building was In order. A week was
attend to her evening duties. Glad, young spent in Boston buying goods ; next a modest
voices were heard in the adjoining room. The sign announced to the people of Arrowdale that
pupils whom Miss Grant had watched over the millinery and dressmaking would be done at
past few years had become greatly endeared. Miss Grant's variety store. Many were the
It was no small cross to send them from her, doubts expressed by Miriam's neighbors respect-
but she felt that it was right. Her school must ing the wisdom of her undertaking but assured ;

be closed at the end of the month. The pupils success soon silenced them. The more active
had indulged good cry at the news, another
in a lifeshe was compelled to lead, the constant
tearful scene ensued when the parting hour contact with manifold dispositions, the harm-
arrived but at that moment they were in the
; less gossip of customers, the chit-chat upon
full tide of enjoyment. The door connecting taste and fashion, the becomingness of this and
the two apartments was thrown open, ala eager the economy of that, all did the thoughtful
voice exclaimed : Miriam good. It prevented too much retro-
" Miss Grant, here is Clara Brown she has ; spection, and hindered her brother's wayward
come home. You can't think how pretty she conduct from wearing upon her spirits as it
 HIRIAU S DUTY. lol

otherwise would have done. For a few weeks

ugly pattern which had been taken for a debt,
after his return, the wr.-tched man behaved and used because unsalable and smoothed
very well but his love for drink overcame his
; her luxuriant hair, which in the morning's
good resolutions. No liquor w.-is sold in the hurry had been twisted up in the most unbe-
village, and Miriam wisely refused him money. coming fisliion. To add to her mortification,
But a victim to intemperance will always find she found Richard stretched on the sofa in a
means to minister to his vitiated appetite by : state of semi-iiitoxicatiou. These adverse cir-
doing odd jobs in his sober moments, Richard cumstances so acted upon Miriam's unstrung
picked np a little change and, though unwil-
; nerves that it required a strong will to retain
ling to bring even a pail of water for his sister, sufficient composure to lift the latch, and salute
it was no hardship to walk half a dozen miles the stranger.
to procure his favorite beverage. If any show of sentiment had been antici-
Miriam was obliged to submit to the evil pated, one glance proved tlie mistake. By-
which she conld not overcome. To work with gones were evidently bygones ; the greeting
a strong, patient lieart for his support to keep was friendly, nothing more.

;

a cheerful home and nice table for him always ;

As the gentleman eiiteied he thought "This
to be a pleasant companion for him when sober is my old tlame, my boyish love. Zounds, how
a silent, uncomplaining one when he was old and faded she looks ! What a horrible
drunk a kind nurse in the frequent illness he
; gown 1"

brought upon himself, and a daily intercessor
for him at the Throne of Grace was all that the
devoted sister could do, and God alone kuew
how faithfully her task was done.
was the afternoon preceding Tlianksgi ving
It
Miss Grant's store was thronged Clara and the ;
two apprentices were wishing for as many hands
as had the idol Vishnu. Bonnets in boxes and
bonnets on stands crowded the counter dresses
were being tried on and packed murmurs of
dissatisfaction and exclamations of delight,
mingled with calls for gloves, laces, ribbons,
and all the el cetera oi feminine wants. Sud-
denly the door closed, bonnets were thrown
down, goods dropped with one impulse they
; heart
The parlor was cold, Miriam was obliged to
conduct Mr. Wright to the sitting-room, which,
owing to the hurry at the store, did not present
its usual inviting aspect. Richard in his maud-
lin condition was especially disgusting. The
cold glances which so critically scanned herself
and her surroundings cut Miriam to the heart.
Another time it would have aroused her pride,
now depressed and fatigued, it only grieved.
;
There were distance and restraint between the
;
former lovers, no one was at ease but tipsy
Richard.
Much to Miriam's relief, the call was brief;
and she was at liberty to return to her post,
but oh, what bitter, bitter feelings, were at her
What murmurs filled her thoughts, as
!

rushed to the windows.
" Yes, that is William Wright 1"
"I should know Bill anywhere; but he's,
stouter than he used to be."
"Oh how handsome he is, and so rich!"
"Why, thi;y say he is worth a million
dear me. Miss Gr.int, he 's
front gate."
Every eye was instantly turned to the pale,
weary shop woman. Many recollected that
before Mr. Wright went South there had been
a youthful attachment between the two. With
flashed cheeks and trembling limbs, Miriam
Bnmmoned Clara behind the counter, and hast-
she furnished the finery for the morrow's festi-
val. Why was every one happy ? why had she
been selected for so much misery ? why had all
a hopeful future except herself.' She was aware
how wrong these thoughts were, but she wa^*
too tired and we.ak to resist them atthe luomeiit;
going in at your with the simple prayer,," Lori help and for-
give," she laid her throbbing head upon her
pillow.
Thanksgiving always brings a festive season
to a New England village. The return of the
wealthy bachelor was the sign.al for an increase
of gayety. Old friends and schoolmates desired
to honor their former companion ambitious :

ened to receive her visitor. Worn and weary,
with a distressing nervous headache the re-
salt of late hours and over-exertion the lady
was conscious of looking her very worst at the
moment of all others when she would have
desired to appear young and fresh. He will
not recognize me, she thought, as she glanced
at the calico moniing gown of ao exceedingly
mammas were anxious to olitain his favor, and
gay belles wre delighted to laugh and flirt
with such a handsome, agreeable man. Gatlv
erings from the social tea, to the more assume
ing evening party became frequent. T-liu
Miriam and Mr. Wrightwereconstantlybrought
in contact. At first there was merely formai
politeness between them gradually the ic
:

VOL. LXVII. 13
152 GODET'S lady's BOOK AND MAGAZINK.

thawed and an easy cordiality marked their
iuterconrse. The gentleman began to drop
into Miss Grant's shop of a morning, and he
had passed a pleasant evening at a sociable
given by Miriam in return for her neighbor's
civilities. Meantime, under this cover of friend-
ly courtesy, each was watching and meastiring
the other's character. Miriam, the love Aims
removed from her eyes, saw every defect of
ber former lover.
"Mr. "SViight's wife will be able to dress in
the best, and Miriam evidently aims at that"
honor," interposed a third lady.
" It is hers by right," responded the first
speaker; "but it strikes me she is rather
coo' towards her old lover."
"That's all art. She is human, thongh
some set her up for a model of perfection."
"Miss Miriam still possesses attraction for
Mr. Wright. Watch him his eyes follow her
;

She began to understand what had been so constantly, though he may

be engaged with a

mysterious how in the pursuit of wealth and dozen other ladies."
eminence she had been first neglected, then for- "I fancy he would prefer' a more youthful
saken. Slie came to understand how his heart bride. Mrs. Ellis intends to secure him for
aud intellect had been brought to bow them- Araminta Jane."
selves to the lower purposes of life how ;
" Yes, that is why this party is given. The
wealth had become a despot instead of a ser- new piano arrived last evening."
vant, an idol instead of a use. She saw his "How Minta will screech. I pity our poor
undue self-esteem, and pride
fastidiousness, ;
tympanums. But they will have their labor
she saw also that in many respects he was for their pains. William Wright will never
high souled, moral, honorable, and, nnless pre- choose a northern wife."
judiced, just. A business man, among busi- Mr. Ellis' large, new bouse was brilliant with
ness men one to be trusted and honored. A light, and crowded with the elite of the village
firm upholder of the church, a respectful obser- and vicinity. Araminta Jane and a few other
ver of its ontward forms, but alas too much ! boarding school misses had exhibited them-
deadened by love of self and the world to be selves, and their accomplishments as well
conscious of any lack of spiritual devotion. upon the new piano, aud people were showing
The gentleman watched as closely. He grad- undisguised symptoms of weariness.
ually came to the conviction that Miriam Squire Morse, a real lover of music, begged
Grant was a noble woman, one to honor any Miss Grant to play. " Some of the old songs,
company and grace any home. He saw that Miriam," he whispered, as lie led her to the
lier womanly beauty was of a higher order than instrument.
her girlish loveliness there was more expres-
; Why, instead of complying with his request,
sion, a higher tone of both face and mien. The did the lady select one of the newest and most
obnoxious attire liad given place to an unex- difBcuIt pieces of the fashion.able music scat-
ceptionable toilet no lady conld dress in better
; tered over the rackAs her friend )iad said,
?

taste ; she might lean to extravagance, but that
was a he could easily forgive. She was a
fault
shade too pious, but that was a failing in the
right direction also an uneliristian woman
was a monstrosity. He wished she was some
lialf a dozen yars jtouuger, but then no one
would think her over twenty-five. He would
not be hasty, but he was not sure but manly
reason would confirm the boyish passion, and
Miriam become his wife. So the lady was
carefully scanned, while he did the agreeable,
Miriam was hnman^ and Mr. Wright had not
the least idea of her musical proficiency. Few
had, as the old mahogany instrument which
had been her mother's, was seldom opened in
company, and it was not often she sang in
public, other than the psalm tunes at the prayer
meeting. For Richard's pleasure she had prac-
tised of late, and something prompted her to
display her skill. The piano was a fine one
the scene had effected just the degree of excite-
ment to call forth lier full power the piece ;

played the gallant to old and young, married she chose was striking. People started and
aud single, winning smiles and golden opinions ceased talking all eyes were turned to the
;

from all. player. The new silk was becoming tlie ;

As was natural, others were watching and fuchsias and myrtle sprays twined amid the
commenting. " Did you see Miss Grant's new glossy brown braids, gave grace to the finely
silk ?" asked one young lady of another, as formed head. Tlie small hands, with that one
tliey passed out of the store. ring, flew over the keys, and the delicate lace
"Was that her dress? I suppose it is for shaded while itdisclosed hersoft, finely moulded
Mrs. Ellis's party. How extravagant she is arms.
this winter." " Never in her girlish days did Miriam Grant
 mikiam's dctt. 153

look so handsome, so qaeenlike," mentally auditor how much she had suffered and suf-
ejai-ulatoJ Mr. WiigUt, as be edged his way fered alone. Conscience whispered this ought
through the throng. not to have been.
Well did Miriam know, though her eyes had " Miriam, I ought to have been more sympa-
not been lifted, who was beside her. Her heart thizing but I had position and fortune to
;

beat quick, her hour had come, womanly tri- gain ; every instant has been claimed
for years
umph .sparkled in her eyes alas I womanly by business demands. My ell'orts, I am happy
revenge was at her heart. Regret and peni- to say, have met with a just reward. My wife
touce followed but that moment was sweet.
; will hoM an enviable situation you promised
A well-formed, muscular hand was stretched to fill that place years ago. Will not the future
forth as the music was turned a plain gold ; make ample amends for the past V
ring ou the little finger tl<ashed in the light. Miriam felt that it could not. Nothingcould
The lady raised her eyes, the gentleman smiled, recompense her for what she had endured it
and whispered; "Thank you fur wearing mine ;
could only be atonement but she saw that ;

pliiy some of the old tunes, Mirry." Mr. Wright was incapable of understanding
With her grace, mu.sic, and conversational her feelings, and that the moiety of heart he
power, Miriam had carried the palm. Fur the would give to any woman was wholly hers, and
first time in her life she h.id striven to shine, raising her eyes to his with tremulous lips, she
and she had succeeded. Miss Grant with her murmured, "And Kichard ?"
twenty-nine years w.as pronounced the belle of "Let him go to the almshouse. It is the
the evening. Mr. Wright had decided Miriam fittest place for him !"

was worthy to be bis wife. " Never while I live !"

" Miriam, I am engaged for a dinner-party With a surprised look, the gentleman de-
to-morrow it is given in my honor by the
;
manded "if she could expect him to receive
merchants of H but I shall return early. ;
into his familysuch au inmate as Richard f
Can you spare me au hour in the evening? I " No and, therefore, I see clearly I can be
;

have much to say to you." only your friend."

The request was granted and Mr. Wright, ;
" Miriam, this is too Quixotic Richard wiU ;

having escorted home a bevy of beauties, retired never be reformed."

with satisfaction. " I neither hope nor expect it. That does
not render my duty less clear and obligatory.''
Miriam sat a long time by the smouldering "This is sheer insanity. Have not I a claim
fire ; a sore conllict raged within one of those as well as Richard?"
soul battles, which are more terrible than any " No once you had, but that is abrogated
;

outward contest but the fight was fought and by your neglect desertion."
;

the victory won. Strength was given her to " Miriam, you do not understand
walk by the spirit, and angels came and min- "Neither do you comprehend. Once our
istered unto her. ^; paths lay together you turned aside and chose
;

" I am later than I intended, Mir:..m ; but I your route mine I was forced to tread. Wo
;

was detained longer than I expected at U . have widely diverged a great gulf yawns be-
There were so many compliments paid to your tween it is impossible for us to unite. I can-
;

bumble friend." not, I ought not to be your wife it would not ;

There was little humility in the air with be a true marriage."

which Mr. Wright seated himself. Miriam, The gentleman gazed wonderingly into those
pale and collected, a prayer in her heart, and clear, resolute eyes. " Did I hear aright this
a sad tenderness in her eyes, inquired respect- woman rejecting me ?" he thought.
ing the dinner party. " Miriam, doI understand rightly, do you

" You will read the report in the papers we ; refuse to become my wife ?"
will not talk of thatnow. Tell me of the past " You must forgive me if I say yes."
I wish to learn the particulars of your parent's Mr. Wright had never dreamed of opposition ;

death." but he never allowed obstacles to stand between

Miriam recollected that the intelligence had him and his wishes. In a tenderer voice ho
been sent at the time (they had died in the said: "I will see what can be done for Richard.
'

same week), and that the letter was never an- " That cannot change my decision. If Richard
swered. She did not revert to the neglect, but was to die within the hour, I could not marry
briefly and with emotion gave the required you, William. As I have said, no true union
nformation. Enough was said to show her can exist between us."


154 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

The suitor would not listen. A brilliant pic- and richer in the eyes of men, and poorer and
ture of what might be hers was portrayed. weaker in the "Eye that seeth not as man
The lady did not waver, but her tone was Seeth."
kinder as she replied :

"I know you could give me the means of "0, Miss Miriam, Mr. Richard has come
mnoh culture and enjoyiueut. Sometimes the home so bad Do come! he 's throwing things
I

old love would exert should be in-

itself, and I all round the kitchen. I 'm afeared he 's got

tensely happy but womanly reason would

; the deliriums."
assert its sway and render me restless and dis- Miriam cast aside the goods she was folding,
satisfied. I will not censure your thoughts and hastened to the house with her frightened
and aims, but I cannot share them. Pardon handmaid. Her worst fears were realized.
me, William, I must be truthful. I cannot The time for which she had long been waiting
stand before the altar and vow before God to had come. Richard was a raving maniac. A
reverence you as a woman .should reverence terrible scene ensued too terrible to be de-
her husband. Your friend I shall always be, picted. The delirium continued eight days ;

but nothing more."- then the wretched man sank into a helplessness
Mr. Wright saw that opposition w.is useless ;
as great as that of infancy. Reason had re-
his doom was sealed. In the presence of this turned, and though the patient needed constant
high-souled, keen-sighted, conscientious woman care, it was a season of comparative repose to
lie was powerless. the weary watchers at his Great
bedside.
" Miriam, will you never regret this ? Will kindness was displayed throughout the neigh-
you not take time to consider?" borhood at this time of trouble. There w.as no
"I have considered; time can make no lack of manly service, and those female friends
change. Please urge me no farther." that had been the most forward to animadvert
A silent hand pressure, and Mr. Wright upon Miriam's conduct, became her most effi-
found himself in the street. cient aids. Tlie sympathy increased when it
" Kefused, refused by Miriam Grant !" There was found that, though Richard might regain
was.a strange ringing in his ears a confusion partial health, he would never have the full
of every faculty. Hundreds of younger and use of bis limbs, and that henceforth he must
prettier women wonld accept him any day. be a cripple. No one could question the justice
Why should he care ? Let the old-maid have of his puuishment still one could not fail to
;

her whims. He had done
iiinende honorable.
With superfluous energy his trunk was
packed, and his name booked for the early
stage. Before sunrise the following morning,
the disappointed suitor was on his
sunny South.
Henceforth Miriam went on evenly and pros-
perously in her occupation, without the slight-
his duty made the commiserate the sufferer. The sweetest flowers,
the gentlest tones, and most cheerful faces
brightened his room. The untiring sister kept
constant ward and watch, and the invalid im-
proved rapidly.
way to the Miriam's most ardent desire had become
realized. In his enfeebled condition it would
be easy to keep Richard from an undue use of
stimulants the prayers of years had been an-
;

est allusion might satisfy curiosity in

that swered. The power she had sighed for was
regard to her lover's sudden departure, doing hers, but she could bow tearfully and
only
every duty that presented itself, .md bearing submissively before Him, who has declared
with her brother's increasing moral and physi- that His ways are not our ways.
cal weakness as best she might. The first stages of weakness
fretfulness of the
Mr. Wright also resumed his former life, but settled intoan apathy that bordered on suUen-
with the firm determination to marry. This, ness, but as the weeks passed, and body and
however, he found no easy matter it was im- ; mind improved, thought and feeling became
possible to make a satisfactory choice. One perceptibly quickened. The patient sister
lady was too tall ; another too short ; still an- watched every mood, and in her cheerful man-
other too stout, and a fourth too slender. One ner encouraged confidence and inspired hope.
had black eyes when they should have been At last Richard was able to move about on
blue, and vice versa; one dressed too much; crutches, and Miriam resumed some care of the
another not enough one was too learned
; ; store. The fall season had come, and its hurry,
another really ignorant ; a third displayed false combined with what she had previously nudei-
teeth a fourth talked too loud. So months
; gone, began to tell seriously upon her consti-
passed, and the wealthy bachelor grew stronger tution. One duU November afternoon, iucapa-
 MIRIAM'S DUTY. Loo

citated by a heaJaclie from tending the store, provide what I need. You know I am a mon-
she tuok home half a dozeu bouuets which eyed man now."
she had promised to trim that day. Richard Miriam smiled glad that her brother was
;

had beea apparently sleeping in his chair, but well and happy, she took little note of his pro-
suddenly he reached out his hand and ex- ceedings till the setting of a stove, and the
claimed, " Mirry, give me that bonnet, you arrival of some unfamiliar
tools attracted her
are making an exceedingly ugly bow. I can attention but as Richard seemed to wish for
;

better it. Move the stand here give me the ;

secrecy she made no remark. The room uo^v
pins I '11 trim the whole batch while you take
; became a sort of Blue Beard chamber to tlie
a snooze in my easy chair. Do as 1 bid, I tell household. Strange noises issued from it, au
yon. I 've been ordered around long enough ;
incessant sawing, tinkering, and hammering.
I'm going to take the command now." There were frequent cousnltations with Mr.
Miriam smiled. " You wont make the hat Hines the blacksmith, and constant visits to
fashionable, I 'm afraid." his shop. Miriam's curiosity had arrived at the
" Give me the fashion plates, then don'tyou ;
highest pitch, when, one June morning, it was
doubt I have as good taste as any lady can announced that Richard Grant had made a.
desire. Just free your mind and go to sleep." wonderful discovery iu mechanics, one that
Miriam felt that she was indeed incapable of
would greatly improve the comb machines,
work, so putting the materials before her
and which could be applied to other machiuery.
brother, she turned the easy chair from the A patent secured he would have a competence.
light and settled herself for a nap. As she did A patent was obtained, but Richard did not

so she heard Richard muttering, " It is profita-

sink into idleness. He was made a pfertner iu

ble for thee that one of thy members perish,

the firm he had so eflicieutly aided. He in-

and not that thy whole body should be cast vented other improvements in machinery, be-
into hell." When Miriam awoke she found came a respected and noted man, a benefactor
Riuhard contemplating the row of bonnets he to the poor and sinful, and a meek follower of
had trimmed. Christ. The old house was thoroughly re-
paired, and again resumed its rank among the
"I'm going to set up an opposition line,
aristocratic mansions of the neighborhood. The
Mirry," he said in answer to her expression of
stables were rebuilt, a horse and carriage pur-
admiration. " The only way to prevent it is
chased, and everything done that could con-
to take me into partnership, and hand over to
duce to Miriam's comfort. Miriam would not
me this sort of rig In future."
yield to Richard's wish that she should relin-
As Miriam found pleased and interested
it
quish business. She preferred independence,
her brother she allowed him to have his own
but she promised to take time for rest aul
way, and in a short time he became chief ora-
recreation, and always held herself in readiness
cle iu many matters pertaining to the artistic
to ride or converse with her brother. The
part of her business. She found him a valua- cheerful tranquillity so grateful to the over-
ble assistant iu keeping her accounts, making tasked girl was soon interrupted. Kews came
out bills, and advising her in financial matters,
that Rachel was in great afllictiou. This sister
inwhich his masculine nature and experience
had not scrupled to leave Miriam with the sole
had made him more especially wary. care of her parents at a time of great adversity.
Squire Morse also solicited his assistance, and In the prosperity which her marriage secured,
towards the close of the year he was employed she entirely neglected her younger brother and
by the thriving firm of Ellis & Co. to settle sister for years there had been no intercourse
;

their accounts. For several weeks Mr. Ellis between them. Richard's rising fame first
took him iu his sleigh to the comb factory induced Mrs. Long to break this silence. A
every morning. The fresh air and exercise, correspondence was accordingly commenced
the hustle and novelty of the establishment some two mouths prior to the arrival of a letter
Were exceedingly beneficial to the invalid, informing them of Mr. Long's failure in busi-
while his mind and heart, liberated from the ness and subsequent illness it closed witlT a ;

mists of sin, became literally born again. One weak, childish .appeal for assistance.
evening in mid-winter he asked his sister if Richard was opposed to Miriam's going to
she could spare him the apartment she had her sister. " She had never solicited her
formerly used as a school room. Miriam gladly company iu health, why should she wish it iu
replied in the aflirraative, and inquired if he did sickness ? She had left her to combat the iKs
not viizh it refarnished. -'Thanks, sisler, I will of life alone; it was just that now she should

13*
156 godey's lady's book and magazine.

bear her burdeu without too much aid aud The old and young were there, the sick and
'
s^'uipatljy. the poor, the healthy and prosperous. Stal-
Richard was but a beginner in the regenerate wart Yankees returning with their pile of gold
life. Miriam h:id practised the Christian pre- to settle near the old homestead disappointed ;

cept "to resist not evil," too many years to invalids despoiled of health and wealth ; be-
swerve from duty now. The next evening reaved widows on their way seek again the to
after the receipt of Rachel's letter she reached shelter of the parental roof; strict descend-
her sister's sumptuous abode the abode at ants of the Puritans, and Catholic sisters cf
that moment of death, poverty, and despair. Charity, ambitious politicians, busy merchants,
Tlie funeral over it was found that tlie childless fast young men, coquettish young ladies,
widow was penniless. She did not have the anxious mammas, crying children, scolding
slightest idea of helping herself, but sank nurses, men, women and children of every na-
iu tearful despair upon the charity of her and degree.
tion, color
hitherto despised brother and sister. Poverty Conspicuous among this mass of humanity
and shattered health wrought a great change was the distinguished merchant and rising
in the gay, fashionable woman whicii did not member of Congress tlie Hon. William Wright.
contribute to the happiness of those around This evening the great man h.ad been enjoying
her. The reply of Miriam's young domestic to his cigar upou deck. The cool night wind
a query from Mrs. Ellis depicted her character. swept his brow, and as midnight approached
"Oh, Mrs. Long is dreadful aggravating. and the throng dispersed he leaned back, and
You can't do right no how. If we've apple- with eyes fixed on the tropical stars, counted
sauce stie wishes it was cranberry, and if it 's his gains, and looked confidently into a still

cranberry she wishes 'twas apple. Then she more enviable Like the rich man iu
future.
makes such a fuss about relisjion ; it 's well the parable, he said: "Soul, thou hast much
there aint many such pious folks, or the world goods laid up fur many years eat, drink, and ;

would be worse than She seems to think

it is. be merry."
if she goes to so many meetings, and says so But hark ! What is the cry that rises ou
many prayers, she
has a right to be just as the still He does
not hear aright it is
night ?
lazy and ugly as the old Harry the rest of the a fanciful illusion. No, horror no the ear ! !

time, and hector the restof the family upon their has not been deceived. "Fire! fire!" rings
s'infulness. If Miss Miriam wasn't a saint she out clear aud shrill. Fifty voices reiterate the
couldn't put up with her as she does. Mr. cry :

Richard isn't so patient. He says she is his " The ship is on fire 1"
one great cross that it is as much, as he can
; Then comes shriek on shriek and wail on
do to keep from swearing twenty times a day. wail ; the direst despair and the wildest confu-
But Mrs. Ellis, I expect we will get rid of her sion. Five hundred human beings, a burning
pretty soon. She is dreadful sweet upou the ship beneath, a wild waste of waters around, a
rich widower that has bought the Howe place. midniglit sky above.
You laugh to see her butter wouldn't melt
'd ; A momentary pause of terror and dismay ;

iu her mouth, and she 's so lonesome. I guess then strong, manly hearts, with the noble
she '11 get him. Such good-for-nothing women generosity that cares first for the weak and
always do catch the men." helpless, spring forward to launch a boat. This
Hetty was right. In less than a year Mrs. done, women and children are quickly an I

Long became Mrs. Adams, and again took her orderly passed over the side. Thank God ! the
place at the head of a handsome establishment. last is on board crowded and shivering, still
!

Her new connections aud prospects entirely they have a chance for. life it will be easier to ;

obliterated her troubles from her memory, but die knowing this. From the first alarm Mr.
it was no part of her policy to disown her rela- Wright had been prominent for his calmness
tives. " My sister. Miss Grant, aud my brother, and forethought. With that kindliness and
the great inventor," were quoted abroad aud heroism which had gained him so many friends
at home, iu season and out of season. when a boy, he had assisted to place the ladies
iu the boat that done, he looked about to
;

A noble steamer was ploughing the moonlit ascertain the best means of securing his own
waves. crowd of passengers were
Its eagerly safety. The prospect was sufiiciently dubious ;

anticipating a reunion withhome and friends. but with marked coolness he commenced direc-
Rapidly sped the ship brighter grew ; languid ing the construction of a raft. Under an inefli-
eyes, more buoyant became weary hearts. cient captain, discipline had long since oead ;
 ;

MIRIAM'S DUTY. 157

but meu instiiictivol.T obey one who has the grew bright head rested more con-
; the little

power to command, ami evoiy direction of the fidingly on his bosom. Yeais went by years
firm, collected man was hastily obeyed. Intre- of hurry and struggle the youth was rising in ;

pidity cannot resist the power tliat now holds wealth and power. What was the simple vil-
mastery. Onward sweep the devouring llames. lage girl to him ? This love was a childish
The work cannot be carried on each man must ; whim to be cast aside with other boyish fancies.
trust to himself and his God. There are cries, Surely such a contract was not binding. If he
groans, and shrieks wild, imploring prayers
; ceased notice, maintained silence, she would
and silent appeals for mercy. The boldest in- soon forget him. Then, as the panorama moved
fidel in that awful hour acknowledged a higher on, he saw a pale girl glide silently down the
I'ower to help and save. wide stairs, and slip stealthily out of the hall
Securing his life-preserver around him, Mr. door as post-time came. Still no letter. The
Wright lowered himself from the ship's bow, pale face grew rigid ; resolution came into the
and swam to a door that was floating at no sad eyes ; the listless, aimless, expectant life

great distance. Alone, witli only a frail board was cast aside ; the dependent, loving girl
between himself and eternity, the millionaire passed into the self-reliant, energetic woman.
sank down fainting and hopeless. AVhat then One last advance was m.ide a mere act of
was all his wealth ? What the thoughts, hopes, courtesy to inform him of his old friend's de-
and projects of the past fifteen years f Worth- cease. Wliat fiend prompted him not to answer
less worse than worthless At that moment ! that letter ?

his soul was compelled to confess its poverty. Groaning with sorrow and despair, the wretch-
Outwardly he possessed untold treasures in- ; ed man murmured " Mirry, I comprehend you
:

wardly he was poor, naked, and miserable. now. There is a great gulf between us we ;

Much goods had he for earth, but what for cannot be united. I am as far below thee as
Heaven ? " Lord, pity and forgive I" cried the hell from heaven
never in this world, never,
penitent, as he laid liim down to die. Suddenly oh, never in the world to come Separated !

a voice sounded in his ear. forever an eternity without her without any-
! ;

" Willie, did you eat mamma's jelly ?" thing better or purer than my own selfish, sin-
It was his mother's voice, and his first false- ful, world-bound soul 1"

hood the lie that had burthened his youthful

;
Indescribable anguish filled the heart of the
conscience, but which Iiad not been recalled for perishing man. There was a benumbing of
years, rose vividly to mind. Then came his every sense ; he could neither see nor think.
mother's corse, the coffin and pall, the darkened A fearful blank ensued then he became ;

room, and sable-clad mourners. To this closely conscious that people were around him next ;

succeeded the new home, the sadness and de- he knew that he was on a vessel's deck. Three
solation of the lonely orphan. A fair vision days had passed, and the rescued man stepped
arose an angel, the boy then thought, came
: once moie on teira Jirma. Pale and weak, ho
winding her soft arms around liis neck, press- made his way to his hotel. Many matters re-
ing her red lips to his, and lisping with a sweet quired instant attention, and with his usual
voice :
" Do not cry, Willie ; Mirry will love celerity these were dispatched. The evening
you." Now came the old brown schoolhouse found him on board a "sound
after his arrival
at the corner ; again he saw the wide fire-place ;
steamer," and twenty- four hours later, he en-
the notched, unpaiuted desks ; the mistress in tered the environs of Arrowdale. The swift
summer with her thimble ; the master in win- cars, since his last visit, had superseded the
ter with the heavy oaken ferrule. Ever by slower mail coach ; and, as he stood in the
his side, through good and evil report, stood spruce, new depot, he felt as a stranger in a
the fair-haired, bright eyed little comforter, strange place. No one recognizeil him, and,
with her shield of love and gentleness. Child- with a mazy, dteam-like feeling, he walked up
hood expanded into youth, the twain advanced the principal street.
to the white Academy on the hill. New feel- Everything seemed changed. Was that hand-
ings developed in both hearts they were no ; some establishment the Grant mansion ? He

longer children still the maiden promised love. had heard of Richard's reform he must have ;

Sorrow came the young head was bowed

; repaired the buildings. Opening the iron gate
the bright eyes were dimmed. She must rely that had replaced the rickety wooden one, he
upon him. He would go out into the world passed up the paved walk, ascended the stone
and win wealth and fame. She must never steps, and stood under the handsome modern
doubt, only love and trust. The tender eyes portico.
158 godey's lady's book and magazine.

One of the linen window shades wag drawn to Him who giveth rain to the just and unjust.
partly tip ; tlie lamp shone brightly on the Miriam Grant has received that which is pro-
clear plate-glas3, disclosing the pleasant scene mised to the good and faithful servant. It is
within. The autumn night was chill a bright ; right that we should rejoice and sympathize
wood burned in the polished stove, before
fire with this entrance into her joy."
it in her low chair sat Miriam. The centre-
table was drawn np, her writing-desk was
by her side. A note had been received that HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
afternoon from Mr. Clark, the minister ; it (See Plate.)

must be answered. What should she say ! BY REV. H. HASTI>'a8 WELD.

He was a handsome man he
good, talented, ;
*'
Our Father Hallowed be Thy Kame !"
was fond of her Richard favored the match
;
O Holy Name, of Love Divine
;

What human heart can be Thy shrine,

why could she not love him "Oh, Willie! ?
What lips to worship Thee may claim ?
Willie !" burst from her overburdened heart.
The door opened. For in Thy saci-ed Word we learD,
The spirit of a little child,
" Have you farther news from the steamer,
Ere yet by earth and sin beguiled,

Richard have you the evening paper f" Thy kingdom only can discern.
No answer.
Misled by cares and pleasures vain.
Miriam turned the telegraph had informed
;
We f,'ive to earth our thoughts and powers:
her that Mr. Wright was among the saved. The light of childhood's happy hours
She knew that it was not his spirit, though Is dimmed by clouds of doubt and pain.
very pale and haggard was the face that met Vet courage take, fainting heart
her gaze. With that quick, electric glance Nor yield thee to thy sad dismay ;

which gives us a slight revelation of the inter- The Loid hath found thee words to pray ;

lie bids thy doubts and fears depart.

course it will be ours to enjoy when disenthralled
from this earthly body, eye spoke to eye, soul "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done !"'

recognized soul ; and, as the fainting form was Thus when thon prayest, labor still
To bow before the Father's Will
pressed in the trembling, clasping arms, Mr.
And thou Shalt he indeed a son.
Wright solemnly murmured :
'
' Mirry, the deaf
hears, the blind has received sight, the dead is
His life is prayer, who truly prays.
Who asks must give. Who looks to Heaven
alive again, the lost is found."
Forgives, that he may be foigiven,
And seeketh God in all his ways.
" So Miriam Grant is going to marry William
Who him from temptation's snare,
turns
Wright after all. I always said she would if And in the Saviour's pathway bright
she had a chance." Walks by the Spirit's guiding light,
" She would never have consented if he had Is of the Father heard in prayer.
not changed so much. There is little resem- If thus our hearts and lives we frame,
blance between the William Wright of to-day Thus praying live, and living pray,
and the William Wriglit who made such a Our constant language, day by day,
Is " Father,_ Hallowed be Thy Name 1"
Sensation here a few winters ago."
True how beautiful it was to see her go to
;

communiouon Sunday between her brother and

lover. They will make but one family, I am LINES TO
told will still reside in tlie old house. Miriam Let me at thy footstool kneeling,

will accompany her husband to Washington Lay my head upon thy knee,
Feeling that earth's best emotioa
this winter, and Clara will continue the store
Is the juy of loving thee !

and keep house for Richard. I suspect we

Shut not up my life in darkness.
shall have another wedding in the spring. I
It is night without thy smile;
suppose the Armitage girls will eventually Let the sunshine of thy favor
have the store. No doubt they will succeed Light my pathway yet awhile.

nicely. All of her apprentice girls have done Is there doubt or dull indifferenre?
well. Is there colduess in chy heart ?

" Yes people may say what they please In thine anger stirred against me ?
;
Doth it rend our lives apart ?
about the tangratefulness of this world, and
Cease, heart! be still thy throbbing
duty's not meeting its reward. I have come
Cease this turmoil in my breast
to the conclusion that it is best to do whatever Or if deatli, forgiving Father,
we see to be clearly right, and leave the reward Take, oh take me to thy rest I

1
 'HUSKS."
" And ho woald fain bars filled ^imeelf with the basks that tho swiue did cat ; and no maa gave unto bim.

BY UARIOX BARLAND.

LEnlercd, according to act of CongrosB, in the year 1S0.1, by Lol'18 A. Godkt, in the clerk's office of the District

Court of the United Sliites, in and for the E;tj.loru Dihtrict of ronnsylvauia.j

(Concluded from pafc'e 6.").)

CHATTER X VH. Mrs. Greyling's paternal pi'ogeuitor was au

" How g.iy Mrs. Hammoud has grown Kitely !" opulent soap-boiler, who was not ashamed,
said Mrs. Greyliug, the fashiouable critic of the during her childhood, to drive an unsavory
.
House drawing-room. " Do you see cart from one kitchen door to another. But he
that she is She
actually waltzing to-night? counted his thousands now by the hundred,
moves well,That pearl-colored moire
too !
and his children ranked, as a consequence,
antique is handsome, and must have cost among the " upper ten."
every cent of nine dollars a yard. She is par- She continued her charitable rera.arks :

tial to heavy silks, it seems. It gives an air

" Somehow the old lady contrived to keep up
of sameness to her dress ; otherwise she shows the a[>pearance of wealth, and married both
very tolerable taste." daughters olT before their second season. Mr.
" I have heard it said that she was a regular Benson is reputed to be rich but for that ;

dowdy before she was married," observed Mrs. matter these Southern planters are all said to
Parton, who was also on the "committee of be rolling in gold. Mr. Hammond is certainly

censure" a self-appointed organization, which making money. Mr. Greyliug says he is a

found ample employment crowded nest in this splendid business man."
of pleasure-seekers. " Her husband is perpetu-
" lie sailed for Europe a week ago, you
ally making her presents, and she dresses to kuow?"
please him." " Yesand since then Madame h.as been the
;

" Humph I distrust these pattern couples

! !
belle of the ball. The old story' When the
"
'
My husband doesn't approve of my doing this cat is away, the mice will play.'

won't hear of my acting so!' are phrases "Sarah," said I'hilip, an hour later, "will

easily learned, and sound so fine that one soon you walk on the balcony with me f You are
falls into the habit of using them. What a heated, and the air is balmy as Georgian
llirt Mr. Benson is ! That is the fifth young breezes. It will do you good."

man she has danced with this evening. I pity "Are you going to scold me?" she asked,
her husband and baby !" archly, before she would take his arm.
" Ho'does not look inconsolable " No. I have no right to do it if I had the
! I tell you
what my notion is : He may love his wife of disposition."

course
he does but he admires her sister There was no moon ; hut the sky was strewed
more. See how he watches Iter Mrs. Tomes ! thickly with stars, and the white foam of the
told me that she was standing near him the surf caught and held tremulously the sparkles
first Hammond waltzed, and that he
time Mrs. from the bright watchers above. I'hilip did
seemed real worried. When tho set was through, not appear disposed to converse, and Sarah
she came to look for a seat, and he got one for waited for hira to begin. Meanwhile they
her. As she took it, he said something to her. strolled on and on, until the murmur of the
Mrs. Tomes could not hear, but she laughed ocean was louder than the music of the saloon
out in his face as saucy as could be. and saidt hand. The sea moaned to the stars, as it had
'
Oh, I am learning when Iam in Rome to do done to the sunless July heavens on that day
as Romans do ! Doesn't my elder sister set so memorable in the history of one of the pair
me the example ?' " the day of shipwreck stories and a real ship-
" He could say nothing then," said Mrs.
wreck none the less disastrous, that the trea-
Greyliug. "Those played their cards
girls sures and their loss were hidden from .ill hut
well. The Hunts have very little, if anything, the bereaved one.
besides the father's salary, and the family was To many it is appointed to lead two lives to :

very obscure." think and feel as well as act a double part

15.)
160 godby's lady's book and magazike.

to separate, as inexorably as human will can " Mrs. Hammond, I heard a gentleman in-
decree, past hopes ami joys past sorrows, and, quiring anxiously for you just now!" called
if practicable, past memories from the tlioughts out a lady, in passing. "He said that you
and emotions of tlie to-day in which they exist. promised to dance with him."
Thousands keep up the barrier until dealh "I did. Tliauk you fur reminding me. X
ends the need of watchfulness and labor the ; little faster, my good brother !"
ooffin-lidcovers the faithful mask that has She hurried him into the saloon, where they
smiled so patiently and so long above an aching were met immediately by her would-be partner.
heart. Yet dammed up passion is a dangerous Philip, bewildered and uneasy, watched her
tiling. If hearts were so constituted that they motions through the evolutions of the dance.
could be drained like pestilential marshes, the She talked rapidly and animatedly, keeping
flood conducted off in harmless and straiglit her cavalier iu a broad smile, and confirming
channels, then, indeed, might hypocrisy re- her lately won reputation of a wit. Her eyes
joice, and sleek decorum sit down at ease. As shone; her color was high; she was "really
it is, genteel propriety and refined reticence are
handsome" as the " censure committee" had
perpetually endangered by the unforeseen swell occasion to remember at a later day, when it

of some intermittent spring, or the thawing of was spoken of in a very different tone from that
some ice-bound stream, tliat is liable to over- employed by a member of this distinguished
leap or tear away the dyke engulfing in an sisterhood in addressing Mrs. Hunt on this
instant the elaborate structures years of toil night.
have cheaply purchased. "You a,re a fortunate mother, my dear ma-
Such was the moment when, withdrawing dam, to have two such brilliant daughters.
her hand from Philip's arms, Sarali struck They eclipse the girls entirely."

suddenly fiercely upouherbreast, and cried: " I have nothing to complain of in my chil-
" Oh why cannot I die and end this misery !"
! dren, ma'am. I done I did my best by them,
"Sarah!" and they have repaid me a thousandfold."
" I say I can bear it no longer ! Others do "Now, I am ready!" said Sarah to her
not suffer thus ! If they do, they die, or lose brother-in-law. " I release you, Mr. Burley !"
their reason. I will nut endure it, I tell you !" waving her hand to her late attendant as a
"Sister!" princess might to a courtier.
"Do not call me by that name, Philip Ben- Vexed and disturbed by her unsettled man-
son ! You know better !" ner and queer freaks, Philip gave her his arm,

She leaned forward on the balcony railing, and conducted her through the throng.
her eyes fixed on the sea. Her deep, hurried " Lewis has had fair winds, and must now be
breatliing was like tlie pant of some worried nearing the end of his voyage," he remarked,
animal, gatlieriiig strength, and, with it, cour- as they sauntered along the ]>iazza.
age for renewed conflict. To her last words the "Ah ! he is on the sea to night ! How strange I

mysterious plaint of the sea lent meaning. I had not thought of that I"
Philip, too, remembered that barren shore, "I see nothing wonderful in the idea, as ho
the tumbling breakers, the solitary sea-bird's has not had time to cross the Atlantic siuce ho
labored flight landward. Was this his work? left these shores," returned Philip, dryly.
It was but a flicker of truth dashed out the " The oddest thing I can think of at present
next second by a blow of indignant will. is yourself, Sarah !"
" You may forbid me to address you by tliis " I am aware of that, Philip. Do not speak
title,Sarah but you cannot iiinder me from
; harshly to me ! Y'ou may be sorry for it some

sympathizing in your sorrow, and trying to be- day." They were at her door. Her softened
friend you. If my companionship is unwel- manner moved hiiu, and as she offered her
come, allow me your room.
to conduct you to hand, he took it with fraternal warmth.
I cannot leave you alone here, where there is "Forgive me, if I was rough! I have net
continual passing." understood you this evening."
"You are right. Regard for appearances is "It is not likely that you ever
will. Time
the one thing needful," she said, mockingly.
was but it is folly to allude to that now !

" I must be a dull scholar, if I have not learned Think of me as kindly as you can will yon ?
that. I am sane again now fit to associate You have wounded me sometimes, but uev.er
with other sane people. If you please, we will knowingly. I cannot say that of many others
go to the ball room instead of up stairs. I am with whom I have had dealings. Good-night."
not a candidate for solitary confinement yet !'' The little parlor was still. Mrs. Hammond

nxTer kept lier maid up to assist in lier dis-
itibiDg. if she intended remaining oat antil a
l.ite linar. Nurse and cliild were quiet in the
adjacent nursery. Closing the door of commn-
nication, Sar.ih stripped her hair and arras of
their ornaments tonk off her diamond pin,
; hedged up, and for the future temptation, re-
then her rings, and laid them awaj in her
jewelry case divested herself of her rich
; who
dress, and drew from her wardrobe a plain,
dark wrapper, which she put on. Next she sat
down at her writing-desk, selected a sheet of
paper, and wrote a single line when a thought
struck her, and she .stopped.
irresolution ended in her tearing
containing what she had penned, and holding
it in the flame of the lamp until
samed. "Best not! Lest not I" she muttered.
" Doubt may bring comfort to the one or two
who will need it. Let them doubt Save ap-
pearances if yon can, my poor mother wonld
say." A smile of unutterable scorn glimmered
over her face. She pushed away the desk and
walked to the window.
From the distant ball-room the throbbing
waves of music still rolled past on the summer
air, and blent with them was the solemn un-
dertone of the surf. Did men call its mighty
voice a monotone ? To her it was eloquent of
many and awful things not frightful. What
was there of terror in thoughts of rest, endless
sleep, rocked for ages by the rising and fall-
ing tide, hushed into dreamless repose by the
ransic of the billows ? No more of a vain and
wearisome life ; no more baffled .i-pirations and
crushed affections no more disheartening at-
; selfish idolatry of pleasures that
tempts to fiud and reich the right to follow
in the steep, rugged path of duty, and shun
the easy, alluring way to which heart and
memory were ever pointing no more of stern ;
rebuke and sneering taunt no more galled ; out their legitim.ite result in his alienation
pride and outraged womanhood no more
lying gayety, smiles, and repartee, when the
spirit was writhing in impotent agony, longing
to shriek out its intensity of woe Only sleep,
rest, peace! "Sleep! rest! peace!" She
gasped the words feverishly, as they seemed
to come to her on the breeze. Might she not
seek these now now ! Not yet
! The grounds,
the beach were still populous with groups of
trollers. She would be seen perhaps recog-
nized
probably frustrated in her purpose.
Leaning her head against the casement, she
sat there an hour not debating,
wavering in her resolve, only waiting until
flight wonld be safe
and thinking thinking
thinking! nntil hef brain whirled.
A thwarted, warped, disjointed existence
'HUSKS. IGl
had hers been from its beginning. Denied
food suitable for her mentsil and spiritual need,
denied symp.ithy, air, and expression of suf-
fering, under the slow torture of this starva-
tion, every avenue to goodness and liberty
pudiation, loneliness, perhaps a sullied name
could dispute her right to try release by
one brief pang she alone would feel ? Who
wonld miss her ? Not the worM that flattered
lier wealth and wit, her laces, silks, and dia-
monds not the mother and sister who wor-
;
A momentary shipped the gilded Juggernaut "Society;"
off a strip not he who was that night sleeping soundly
on the same sea that would embosom her in
it was con- her sweeter, deeper slumber. Shocked lie
might be at an event so unexpected and un-
common. His next sensation would be relief
! at his deliverance from a burden, at his free-
dom to come and go as he liked no longer
banished by her obstinacy and his own. He
had loved lier as most other men do their
wives a bond too weak to bear a heavy blow
at their self-love. She had sinned beyond
forgiveness iu his eyes.
Of Philip she thought with a mingling of
tenderness and resentment. His unthinking
gallantry had been the root of her sorest trou-
ble ; but it teas unthinking, not wilful wrong.
Nor was she the only sufl'erer. His heart was
well nigh as hungry .is hers. Within the past
week, she had seen this more clearly than ever
before, and he hadfelt it ! Lucy's narrow mind,
her insipidity, her inordinate vanity, her
wearied him ;
her disrelish for intellectnal and domestic en-
joyments, displayed in its most objectionable
form, in her indifference to his company, and
her neglect of her child these were working
; from her, and attmction towards the once
whose large heart and mental
slighted sister,
gifts be now valued at their true worth. To
! repel him, as ninch as to drown her cares,
Sarah had plunged into the vortex she had
heretofore avoided. She had heard that there
was temporary solace in this species of dissipa-
! tion. The cnp was, for her, sparkless and bit-
ter from surface to dregs.
She w.u saving him with herself by this final
step He wonld realize this truth in the
!
throe that would shake his soul when he
still less found that she was gone perhaps, even in;
that anguished hour, would bless her for hav-
! ! ing showed to him, while she drove him back
from, the abyss they were together approach-
ing. It was no idle vaunt she had made to
162 godey's lady's book and magazine.

from her
Levris, that the principles inherited a start and chill througli the hearer ? A touch
f would save her from overt sin. Thus,
ither to the lamp threw a blaze of light over nurse
thus would she flee the temptation wlien the and child. A sliarp cry rang through tlie cham-
heart liad left the will to battle unaided. ber. "Mary! Mary! get up!"
Her father I the gray old man who was The girl sprang to
tlie floor before she com-

toiling through tliis summer's heat, in his de- prehended meaning of the alarm. Mrs.
tlie

serted home, as he had through so many sum- Hammond had sunk into a chair beside the crib,
mers gone he who had never given her an
! from which she Iiad snatched her infant. Baby
impatient or angry word whose pride and joy Belle's head was strained back her hands ;

sire still was ! The stroke would he severe clenched her limbs stiffened in a deathlike
;

upon him. Yet he would not refuse comfort. spasm. The eyes were rolled out of sight under
There were still left to liim his boys fine, the lids ; and the four little teeth lier "most
manly fellows Jeannie and his baby-grand-
; precious pearls," the fond mother had called
cliild
his lost daugliter's gift. Tears rushed them were hard-locked within the purple
into flie hot, wild eyes with this last image, lips.
but she would not let tliem flow. "Is it not Terrified as she was, Mary Iiad the presence
better that I should leave her now, when the of mind run for assistance. Mrs. Hunt and
to
parting will give lier no pain, when one little a physician were soon on the spot, and every
week will blot out my memory entirely from appliance of the healing art that promised re-
her mind, thau to wait until she can recollect lief to the sufferer was used, but with partial
and miss me ?" effect. Sarah saw nothing but the child heard ;

The music had ceased. The revellers had notliing but the doctor's calm orders.
dropped away faster than they had collected, " You do not try to help her !" she said, im-
when once tlie movement was made to retire. patiently, as aconvnlsion, more fearful than any
The murmur of the deep was the only sound that had preceded it, seized the delicate frame.
abroad tlie stars were tlie only sentinels.
;
" I could not do more, were it my own child,
Sarah arose, threw a shawl over her head, and madam 1"

cautiously unlocked tlie door. A strong rush He was an elderly man, whose charity for
of air from her hold, and as she caught
blew it fashionable mothers was very scant, and, liaving
it, to draw it after lier, she trod upoa some seen Mrs. Hammond in the ball-room the eve-
object lying on the floor. Mechanically she ning before, he was not prepared for the solici-

stooped to pick it up. It was an infant's shoe, tude she manifested.

a dainty little gaiter, that peeped, during the "You had better let the nurse take her!"
day, from beneath Baby Belle's wliite skirt. he said, more gently, as Sarah, with difficulty,
To Sarah's touch it seemed that the lining held down the struggling hands that might do
still retained the wai-mth of the child's foot. hurt to the liead and face.
Never, oh never, was the patter of those " No I will have no one touch her but
!

baby feet to make glad music for the mother's myself!"

ear ! Others must guide and sustain lier trial The morning broke, the day heightened into
steps ; otliers smooth her daily patli ; others noon, and the paroxysms only abated in vio-
direct the inexperience of the girl in the peril- lence as the babe's strength declined. Stead-
ous passes where that mother had fallen and fast to her word, the mother had not once
perished I resigned her. She had herself immersed her
" Oh, may I not bless her before I leave her in the warm baths, applied the poultices, and
forever?" she cried to stern Resolution. And administered the medicines prescribed. Mrs.
Conscience rejoined, with meaning severity : Hunt was compassionate and active ; Mary
" Is it yo!i who would breathe a blessing above sorrowful, and prompt with whatever service
her purity?" she could perform ; Lucy frightened and idle.
" Suffer me, then, to take the farewell look I riiilip, who liad often been in the outer room
dared not grant myself before." to make inquiries and offer aid, if any were
And while Resolution faltered at the impas- required of him, was told, just before sunset,
sioned appeal, she opened the nursery door and th.at lie could go into the chamber. Mrs. Hunt
stole to the side of the crib.The night-lamp invited him, and the information she added
shed a feeble halo over the table whereon it gave to his countenance a look of heartfelt sad-
stood. Tlie rest of the room was in darkness. ness, as he followed her. Sarah sat in the
Mary's light bedstead was close to the crib. middle of the room, so altered that lie could
Was hers that liard, short breathing, that sent scarcely credit the fact of her identity with the


ICB

lieiDg lie l)!i<l parted from the previotis night.
Her eyes were sunken, her fi?atnres sharp-
ened, and Iier complexion liad th>> dead, gray-
ish hue of an old woman's. In lier arms lay
the b.ibe, and, as she crouched
mien of defiant protection suggested
idea of an unnatural savage guarding her
young. He could not say whetlu'r or not she
was aware of his presence until he knelt by
thought more pensive. A glance into the sit-
ting-room window, from whi're she sat, would
have showed one Uncle ^^1thall's empty aim-
chair in the chimney-corner, and above it were
over it, her suspended his cane and broad-brimmed h.it,
to him the just .IS he had put them olT when he took his
departure for a country where neither shelter
nor stafl" is needed. Aunt Sarah's cap had a
widow's border now and in her faithful heart
;

the dying child and called it by name. there was a sadder void than the de.ath of her
" Baby Belle, do you know Uncle Philip ?" children had created loving parent though
The dark eyes, soft still through the gather- she was and yet more plentiful springs of
ing film, moved slightly, and Sarah said synip.athy for others bereaved and suffering.
" Speak to her again !" Her rocking-chair was near the entrance set
" Will Baby Belle come to nncle ?" of the hall that bisected the dwelling .and the ;

This time there was no sign of consciotisness. front and back doors being open, she had a fair
The wee hands clasped in the mother's grew view of the public road, whenever she chose to
colder and coMer, auil the breath fluttered look up the lane. The Shrewsbury stage met
slowly through the parted lips. The end was the bnat at four o'clock, or soon after, and
near, and Philip's pitying accent expressed his hearing a rumbling along the highway, which
sense of this. she knew presaged its transit through this end
" GUve her to me, dear Sar.ah ! It is not of the village, the old lady leaned forward to-

right for you to keep her longer.'' catch a glimpse of the trunks upon the roof;
"She is mine.'' this being all she could distinguish with cer-
The glare that came to her eye with the tainty above the fence.
three words levealed a desperation that would ' Why, it is stopping here !" she ejaculated,
have done battle with the King of Terrors, had getting up to obtain a better look. "Who
he appeared in visible shape toclaim his victim. upon earth can it be ?"
More faintly, slowly, trembled the life over the The coach rolled on, and the passenger for
sweet month, an.l the hands, like waxen shapes, the farm-house came through the gate and
l.iy pulseless in the mother's clasp; while down the l.ane. She was dressed in black,
through the silent room flowed the dirge of the wore a crape veil, and carried a small liand-
sea. Sh.aken by the freshening breeze of eve- trunk. With hospit.able instinct, Aunt Sarah
ning, the shutters of the western window swung advanced to the front porch to meet her. still
ajar, letting in a golden ray upon mother and entirely in the dark as to who it conld be.
child,and along that path of light the untar- " She has a difi'erent look from any of the
nished soul of Baby Belle was borne Ijy its neighbors and there 's nobody in York would
;

waiting augel home !

be likely to come to see me, except Betsy's
people, and it can't be either of her girls
!"

At this stage of her cogitations, the visitant

CHAPTER XVIII.
AirxT Sarah sat in the wiilo porch at the
back of her house, knitting in band. It was
a still, but not oppressive August afternoon.
There was not a rnlHe on the bright surface of
reached the step on which the hostess stood,
and put away the lone veil from a face so worn
and se.amed with grief, so hnllow-eyed and old,
that the good aunt screamed outright in her
distressed astonishment
" Sar.ah, dear child can this be you ?"!

the river, and the long meadow grass was as " What I am now. Aunt Sarah. May I como
smoothly spread out in the yellow sunshine. inand stay with you a little while "'
From the poultry-yard on the left arose a "Stay with me, poor darling! As long as
pleasant murmty, and now and then a stray yon like, and welcome Come right in yon ! ;

hen tiptoed around the end of the house, sing- don't look fit to stand !"
ing idly as she rambled. Charley lay on the She was not : for, now th.at the necessity for

green gronnd his old reading-room with a exertion was removed, she was faint and trem-
book before him. and to him Aunt Sar.ah's bling. Aunt Sar.ah helped her up st.iirs to the
motherly eyes turned most frecjuently. Those room she had occupied at her former visit, un-
kindly orbs were dimmer than they were two dressed her, and put her to bed. Sarah submit-
summers ago. and the gentle face was a ted like a child, too mucb. exhausted to resist
VOL. LXVII. 14
164 godey's lady's book and magazine.

being made an invalid of, or to offer any expla- instructive contrast : the world-weary woman
nation of her singular apparition. Slie had not returning for consolation and advice to the
slept an hour at a time for many nights ;
yet, simple-minded matron, to whom the artificial
when she had drank a cup of tea, and tried to eat existence she now heard depicted its gilded
a hit of the toast her aunt prepared and brought vices and giddy round of vanities its trials ;

up to her, she fell into a profound slumber,

and temptations were a wonderful, a mon-
wliich lasted until long after sunrise on the fol- strous tale, as foreign to her sphere of princi-
lowing morning. Unclosing her eyes then, they ples and feelings asif they had transpired in

rested upon the dear face, shaded by the widow's another world. But when Sarah came to speak
cap, that watched at her bedside. A shadowy of her child, her manner changed, her voice
phantom of a smile flitted over her features at was hoarse and uneven, and over the care-
the recognition. worn visage there went such alternations of
" It was not a dream, then ?" she said, lan- fierceness and heart-breaking sorrow that the
guidly. " But I have dreamed of you often, of listening mother, upon whose soul the shadow
late every night in which I have had any of her own children's graves still lay long and
sleep. Aunt Sarah, I must tell you why I dark, could hear no more in silence.
came to you I" "My poor girl!" she cried, falling on her
"Not now, dear," Aunt Sarah hastened to knees, and throwing her arms around the re-

say, seeing the wild stare and the cloud return clining figure. " Dear child Our Father in
!

to her countenance. " Wait until you are Heaven pity and comfort yon There is no !

stronger. I up your breakfast, and

will bring help in man for such trouble as yours 1"
when you have eaten it, you may try to dress, Sarah had not shed a tear in the course of
if you like. There will be time enough for )ier story. She said afterwards that she had
your story, by and by. Charley is in a great not wept since they took her dead baby from
fidget to see you." her clasp but at this burst of imfeigned sym-
;

Sarah submitted to the delay but it was
plain that she was not satisfied with it, and that
her mind would be easier when once the tale
was told. Aunt Sarah hindered her no longer
a time than sufficed for her to take the much
needed refreshment, to bathe and dress, and
to see and exchange a few sentences with
Charley, who supported her down to the sitting-
; pathy, this gush of pure love and compassion,
the burning rock was cleft, and a blessed flood
streamed from it. For some minutes they wept
together without restraint, and when the more
quiet grief of the elder mourner was repressed,
the other still clung, sobbing, to her bosom.
Aunt Sarah held and soothed her as she
would have done a sorrowful child stroking ;

room. There, resting among the pillows of away the hair from her forehead, drying and
the lounge. Aunt Sarah beside her with the kissing the tear-stained cheeks, with many an
ubiquitous knitting-work in hand, lest too close epithet of fond reassurance.
observation should confuse her niece, the "Let me finish There is very little more !"
!

stricken one unfolded the whole of her sad resumed Sarah, keeping her aunt's hand fast
history. in both of hers. " We went back to the city,
No more affecting proof could have been and the nest day we laid her in Greenwood.
given of her prostrated mind and will than this
We stayed at father's I would not return to
unreserved recital. The secret she had sold the house that used to be mine. Father was
conscience and liberty to preserve she commu- very kind, and mother meant to be but she ;

nicated MOW without a blush. Here where tormented me with suggestions and consulta-
she had formed the intimacy that had shadowed tions about my black clothes. Lucy was pining
so darkly her after days she detailed every to get back to Newport. She said it was hot
step of thewrong course to which this weak- and dull in New York. Philip wanted to com-
ness was the key went over all the stormy
; fort me, but I shunned him, and I think he
parting with her husband her conviction of ; was hurt by my conduct but it was best, was
;

the mutual peril she and Philip were tempting it not, Aunt Sarah ?"

in their daily communion her resolve of self- " Certainly, dear !"
;
|J
destruction^as circumstantially as if she were " I had often imagined myself lonely before ;
|
relating the biography of another. but I never dreamed of such a horror of deso-
Aunt Sarah, horrified and pitiful by turns, lation as filled my soul during the two days
struggled, with indifferent success, to maintain that I remained there, after all was over.
equal composure, and against growing doubts Twenty times each night I would start from a
of the narrator's sanit v. It was a strikin? and feverish doze, thinking that I beard my baby
 ;

'HUSKS.' 165

cr/ or moau, as slie did ia the intervals of those regretted to add that Mr. Marlow, who, as Mr.
awful couvalsioQS aud then would come in
; Hammond's nearest friend, was informed of
upon me as if I had never felt it uutil then the distressing occurrence, had thought proper
the truth tliat I could never see her again, and to communicate the intelligence to Mr. U. be- '

that my wicked, wicked intention of deserting fore Sarah's note arrived, and the steamer
her had brought this judgment upon uie. I bearing the letter had sailed. Mr. Hunt ex-
could not stay there, Aunt Sarah I heard ! pressed himself as entirely willing that his ^
other voices besides my child's in the air, aud daughter should remain in her jiresent retreat
saw strange, grinning faces in the darkness. until her health of mind and body was re-
But the worst was to see that, to every one but established, but did not conceal his disappro-
nie, the woild was the same that it had ever bation of the manner of her leaving home.
been. Father looked grave when I was in his Aunt Sarah looked concerned as she read
sight but the children could laugh aud talk
; this epistle, which her niece had passed over to
as if nothing had happened, and X have seen her.
motlier and Lucy chatting merrily iu the room " I am sorry for your husband, my dear.
with the dressmaker over my new dresses, This affliction, coming so close upon the other,
while they were criticizing the crape trimmings. will be a dreadful blow. It is a pity they did
And I had buried my last earthly hope in my not wait awhile, until they knew sometliing of
baby's grave ! Then I remembered you, and your whereabouts, before writing to him."
how you had talked to me of your lost children, " I am more sorry that the news must be
and how you had assured me of a home iu your contradicted," was the reply. "As we are
heart and house whenever I chose to claim it, now situated, the certainty of my death would
and I Aunt Sarah
believed iu you, There are ! be a relief to him. This was my reflection
not many whom I do trust but I was sure you ;

that night " She left the sentence unfinished.
never said what you did not mean. I would " My dear !" Aunt Sarah removed her spec-
not tell them that I was coming, for I feared tacles, and surveyed her niece with her kind,
they would prevent me. I slipped out of the serious eyes. " Have you made up your mind
house when none of them were at home, and to live separate from your husband for the
went to the nearest hack-stand, where I got rest of your life ?"
into a carriage and drove down to the boat." " What else should I do, aunt ? He will
' My dear, did you leave no letter to let them never come back unless I promise to love him,
know where you had gone ?" and that cannot be."
" No, ma'am. I was afraid they would come " That doesn't alter the fact of your duty, as
or send for me, and I cannot go back." I look at it. You ought to m.ike him an offer
''13ut your father Did you your mother! to do riglit, at any rate. It would have been

not think how distressed they would be when easier and pleasanter to live with him, if you
they missed you ? And your reputation ? What had felt for him as a woman should for the
will be said when it is known that you have left man she marries but you are married to him,
;

your father's house, and no one knows where and iu the sight of the Lord you ought to
you are ? You are very weak and tired, dear cleave to him, and him only. That is a solemn
but you must sit up, right away, aud write a covenant, dear ' for richer, for poorer, for
note home. Tell them that I will take care of
I
better, for worse!' 'Those whom God hath
you as loug as you like to stay with me ; but joined together, let not man put asunder!' It
don't lose a minute ! You may be in time for doesn't excuse people, who take these vows
the afternoon boat." upon them when the right spirit is wanting,
Sarah obeyed and the careful old lady Iinr-
; that they never thought how awful the engage-
ried Charley otf to the boat, with directions to ment was. Their obligations are just the
place the billet iu the hands of the captain, same, whether they love or not."
who was a personal friend, and could be relied " The responsibility does not rest with me.
upon to post it directly he reached the city. I performed my duty while we were together.
Mr. Uunt replied without delay. Sarah's The separation was his act, and he must abide
absence had given rise to the most harrowing the consequences. I have erred greatly. Aunt
conjectures, made plausible by her extreme Sarah ; but ever since the night of our mp-
melancholy and fitful behavior since her infant's ture, my conscience has been easy with respect
death. The police had been privately notified to Mr. Hammond. I confessed that I had mis-
of her disappearance, and cautiously worded led him, aud begged his pardon. Could I do

I advertisements inserted in the papers. He more ?"



166 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

"Put the Do not

oasf? to yourself, child! that tells the whole story." She raised the
be angry if I miud, and use
speak out my Bible from the table, and laid itupon Sarah's
against you some things you have told me. lap. pointing as she did so to these words en-
When you saw that Philip was growing to like closed iu brackets :

you better and better, and that you felt nearer " Because thou hast forgotten the God of thy
to him every day, why did you determine to salvation, and hast not been mindful of the
die sooner than to have things go ou so ?" rock of thy strength, therefore shall thou plant
" Because itwould have been a crime (or ns pleasant plants, and shalt set it with strange
to love eaoii other infamous treachery to my slips. In the day thou shalt make thy plant
sister, to his wife, for us to name the word to grow, and in the morning shalt thou make
between us." thy seed to tlourish lut the hun-:,4 shall be a
;

" And how would Lucy have you had felt, if heap in the day of /jnef and dcspeiate iorrow .'"
come to an understanding and spoken out the Mrs. Hunt would have regarded as an insult
true feeling of your hearts ?" any expressed doubt of her religious principles
" Hers is a careless, indolent nature, but and practice. She had a desirable pew in the
this insultwould have aroused her. She fashionable church which was nearest her resi-
would never have forgiven him or me, had she dence, and, stormy Sabbaths excepted, it was
suspected a warmer sentiment on either side generally full at morning service. When her
than that of friendship." children were presentable as to looks, very
' But an honorable, affectionate man like young babies being seldom prettv. they were
your husband, who thought his wife the most offered in fine lawn and Valenciennes at the
precious thing in the world, was to forget his fount for the rite of baptism, and not a confir-
disappointment, overlook your lack of love mation had passed since her daughters were
and truth towards him, only because you al- grown, that she did not fancy how interesting
lowed that he had found out your real feelings they would look kneeling before the surpliced
at last, and all the excuse you could give was bishop, heads gracefully bowed, and the regal ds
that you could not help them You were the ! of the whole congregation fixed upon them.
one iu fault all the way through, fiom the day Sarah never could be brought to the perform-
you engaged to marry him up to the minute ance of the commonest act of public worship,
when yf'U would not say the word he begged unless it was to rise with the rest, when a
from you to keep him at home. It is right that standing posture was prescribed by the prayer-
all the advance should come from you." book, and she shocked her mother by declar-
High-spirited as Sarah was, she was not an- ing that she only did this because she was
gered by this plain-speaking. " Faithful are tired of sitting ! Lucy's serene grace of devout-
the wounds of a friend ;" and she felt that she ness was beautiful, if not edifying to behold.

hail but this one. Aunt Sarah studied her Those who occupied adjacent pews involunta-
thoughtful countenance before she renewed rily suppressed their responses as her mellow

the argument. tones repeated, with melancholy sweetness

" I am au old-fashioned woman, dear born "Have mercy upon us, miserable sinners!,"
and bred in the country, -where, thank God I !
And as the melting cadences entranced their
have spent all my life. But I 've been think- ears, the lovely penitent was speculating upon

ing about your story of the way people act and the probable cost of Miss Hauton's Parisian
feel up there in York, and maybe in all other hat, or coveting Mrs. Beau Monde's sable cloak.
great, fine, mouey-making cities, aud my notion If Sarah had ever heard of regeneration, it

is just this. I look back of their pushing and was as a technical phrase of the church articles
straining after riches, and show, and worldly and christening service. Of its practical mean-
vanities every man for himself, and the one
;
ing, its inward application, its absolute neces-

that climbs highest, forgetting as soon as he sity to the safety of the soul, she had as vague

gets there that he was ever any lower, and a conception as a Parsee or New Zealand can-
ready to kick over anybody that tries to get nibal would have formed. She had read the
alongside of him and I see that they have
;
Bible in connection with rhetorical lectures, .and
lost sight of the second great commandment admired it as a noble specimen of Oriental lite-

'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' rature. What other associations could she
Then I look back of this too, and I see where have with it? A handsome copy of the Holy
the greatest sin is, and dear, bear with me ! Scriptures, surmounted by a book cf common
I see where you have gone furthest astray. prayer, lay on a stand in Mrs. Hunt's thiid
Here 's a passage I was reading this morning and rear parlor, and was dusted when a like
 167

attention was paid to tlie other ornaments of

t:iblfS and ^layires. An Oxford edition, rnsset
CHAPTER XIX.
antique, foiuiedoneul the wedding-gifts of each " My peak
Lewis Before you receive this
:

of the sisters, and in due time was laid in letter, you have had the explanation of my
will
jiious pomp on its purple pillow iu the library disappearance from New York. A merciful
corner. It was hai-dly strange, then, that the Providence directed me, in my partial derange-
quotation, so apposite to the case in point, ment, to this peaceful retreat. Here I have
should fail to impress her very strongly. Aunt found rest for body and soul peace such as
Sarah had gone out, deeming solitary reflection the world could never give the heart, even
the best means of enforcing the lesson she had were it not bowed down by a sorrow like mine.
tried to inculcate, and, after re-reading the Not that I forget p.ast errors nor that the re- ;

two verses, without further appropriation of view does not humble me in the dust. I con-
their meaning, Sar.ah turned leaf after leaf of fess, with shame and bitterness of spirit, my
the volume, citchiug here and there a sen- wasted years, my iiiisauctilied affections, my
tence of the large print, so grateful to the fail- evil passions. But for the assurance of the
ing sight of her who was its daily student. Father's pardon, the Saviour's loving pity, the
" David said unto his serv.ant3 Is the child
' black catalogue would strike me dead with
dead V And they said He ij! dead !' ' '
horror and anguish. It is a fearful thing to be
The smitten chord in the mother's heart sent made to see one's self as she is ; to scan in
oat a ring of pain, and her listless hand paused terrified solicitude the record of a life, and find
upon the open page. It is a simple story the there nothing better than pride, misanthropy,
royal parent's unavailing wrestle with the Chas- falsehood, hatred of men rebellion against
tener, the dread end of his suspense, and the God. It is a sweet experience to taste, how-
efficacy of the affliction, made manifest in the ever tremblingly, the consolations of the Friend
calm resignation, the sanctified trust of the who invites the weary and heavy-laden to draw
mourner. But when received as Sarah read near and learn of Him. In His strength not
with the vision of a similar death-scene inter-
it, in that feebleness once called power have I
I
mixing itself with its unadorned details, the resolved to lead a new life. Of the causes
fresh blood still welling from the wound made which have contributed to produce this change,
by the tearing away of a portion of one's own we speak more at length when we meet.
will
life, every line is fraught with truth and " 'When we meet!' Lewis, will you, can
pathos. you forget your manifold wrongs and come
" Can I bring him b.ack again ? I shall go to back to me ? I do not plead, now, for the sake '

him, but he shall not return to me !" of our child.' Her sinless soul henceforth can
" Go to her Oh, if I could!
! My baby my ! know no pain or woe. God saw that I was not
baby!" worthy of her, and He took her. In the earlier
To the low, sad cry succeeded a season of weeks of my selfish mourning, I had no thought
yearning and of tears. It was an echo of the of your bereavement. Latterly, I have longed

wail of the heathen mother who, centuries to comfort you, for I know
that your heart is
ago, having seen her babes slain before her riven by this stroke. She was your joy, as she
eyes, cried aloud, in unselfish agony, as the was my angel of peace. Her loss is ou r common
sword, reeking with their blood, was jilunged sorrow. Shall it not draw us together ? Yet,
into her own bosom " 0, my children ! where as I have said, our estrangement cannot now
are ye ?" affect her. Thoughtless of evil, she passed
Sleep on, in thy lowly bed upon the hillside, away. Had she lived, the Omniscient only
sweet Baby Belle Like the pale buds that
I knows what grief and mortification might have
are fading with thee in thy narrow resting- darkened her pathway. Nor do I desire a
place, thy mission on earth is accomplished. reconciliation as a shield from the world's sneer
Joy, yonng freed spirit, if, stealing through the or ban. I hold its applause and its censure

melodies of Heaven, there comes to thee the alike cheaply. In prosperity its favors were
whisper of that mother's call Fair lamb I I painted, tasteless fruit in adversity it would
;

the love that folded thee in the Shepherd's have fed my starving heart with husks. But
arms designed likewise, iu recalling thee, to for mi/ sake
by the thought of my late and
lure thewandering parent home ! sore repentance by the remorse that must
;

gnaw my spirit, when I remember your noble

trust in me, your unswerving fidelity, your
14* generoaa love and my base requital of it all


168 gopey's lady's book and magazine.

by the sorrow that never leaves me by day or If this was nnkindness, it was all she could

by uight forgive me, and return to the home reproach him with in the course of time they
we have both forsaken I will serve you very
! had spenttogether. He had been a true friend,
faithfully, my husband I have gained other
! an honorable protector, and dimly still, but
and higher views of the marriage relation with- more justly than ever before, she perceived
in a short time past. However presumptuously that into his love for her there had entered
I may have assumed its responsibilities, how- none of the merely prudential considerations,
ever unworthily performed its duties in former
I the cool calculations, wherewith she used to
days, I would enter upon our re-engagement account for bis choice of herself as a helpmeet.
with a solemn sense of what I owe to you and Where, in the world's heartless circles, could
to Him wlio united us. You must have de- she point out another wife as much iiiduU-ed,
spised me at our parting, and since. Perhaps as much honored in public and in private as
you have come to think of me with dislike as she once was by him ? Mournfully, if not lov-
well as contempt. I will bear this grievous inglj', she dwelt upon the countless evidences
though the burden will be as a part of my of his cordial fulfilment, in letter and in spirit, '

righteous punishment. I will never murmur
never, even iu thought, accuse you of unjust
harshness, you will grant me the opportunity
if
to make what amends I can for all you have
lostand suffered through my fault."
Sarah was still far from strong and wearied
as much by the intensity of her feelings as by
the manual effort of writing, she laid the yea
down, and leaned back in the cushioned chair.
Her table stood iu the parlor beneath the win-
dow overlooking the river. The room was prim
and clean, as of yore, with its straight lines of
chairs its shining specks of mirrors
; the grim
of his part of their mutual engagement, with
something of the sinking of heart the alchemist
may have felt when, after he had by a mechani-
cal and habitual fling of his arm, tossed the
eagerly-sought philosopher's stone into the sea
; as a worthless pebble, he discovered that the
divining steel he held had beeu changed to
gold by its touch.
To whom of us has not an experience similar
to this come ? It may be that the eyes which
once besought affection with dumb and disre-
garded eloquence are closed and rayless for
; all future time the lips that told, with modest
;

black profiles above the mantel, and the green
boughs in the fire-place. The outer scene was
in its general features that which the girl had
surveyed, with pleased surprise, the July eve-
ning of her arrival here two years ago.
Only two years The sufferings and
! life-
lessons of twenty had beeu crowded into that
brief space. The meadows were growing sere,
as if scorching winds had swept over them,
and the stream reflected truthfully yet one
could have fancied, sadly, the changing foliage
fringing its bowlers. But the sky, with its
tender blue and fleecy clouds, ever shifting, yet
ever retaining their likeness to one another
the liver's smooth, steady flow, were the same
frankness, how dear we were to hearts we
cared not then to win, are now but silent dust.
Or, perchance, grieved by indifference, repelled
by uukinduHSS, those hearts have sought and
found in other loves solace for the pain we in
our blindness inflicted. It matters little whether
they be dead to all the world, or only to lis.
In either case, the longing and despair of our
lonely lives are rendered the more unendurable
;
from the flash of tardy truth that shows us,-
side by side, with onr actual poverty of heart
riches, the tranquil beauty of the pictured
" might have been."
Aunt Sarah had gone on a visit to a neigh-
;
bor the hired girl was in the distant wash-
;

fit emblems both of them of counsels which iire house and Charley considered it his duty to
;

mercy and truth through all their workings ;

linger within easy reach of his cousin, should
of love that abideth forever ! she need him for any purpose. To guard her
The tr.ain of thought was replete with re- from all chance of intrusion, he stationed him-
freshing to the spirit that was striving, in self ou the front porch steps, with his book ou

prayer ami watchfulness, to adhere to the right, his knee. For an hour, he read on uninterrupt-
to accept, with meek submission, all that her edly ; then, glancing up as he turned a leaf, ^

cup yet held of pungent or nauseous lees. he saw a gentleman coming down the gravel- BJ
There was no affectation in the humble tone of walk. He looked thin and anxious, and his \

her letter. She would not begin it until she restless eye wandered from door to windows,
had mastered the stubborn remnant of her native as iu expectation of seeing some one besides
pride. should be nothing to her that her
It the boy. With a ready apprehension of his
husband had wilfully separated himself from infirmity, only to be accounted for by some
lier and refused her overtures of reconcilement. prior knowledge of the person be saluted, he
 HUSKS. 169

took from his pocket a card, wliicli he jire- been variously cousti-ned into an elopement, a
sented before be shook hands with the siieiit freak of derajgement, and a deliberate inten-
host. Cbarle^r's iutelligent face was one beam tion of suicide, according to the degrees of
of pleasure as be read, and his warm grasp charity possessed by the theorists, was a very
showed his sympathy in the happiness he fan- innocent and unromantic journey to the country
cied was iu store for his cousin. Inviting the home of her favorite aunt and godmother, a
guest by a gesture to follow him, he went lady of ample fortune and benevolent heart,
softly to the parlor-door, tapped lightly too who would iu all probability make her name-
lightly, indeed, to attract the notice of the sake her heiress. Under her care, and for the
musing occupant of the room, then drew back benefit of the seclusion so congenial to oue in
the liolt, admitted the stranger, and delicately her affliction, and the salt air so necessary for
withdrew. the restoration of her impaired health, Mrs.
S.irah heard the door open and Charley's Hammond had remained until her husband's
retreating footsteps, and, supposing that he had return from abroad.
peeped in to see that she was comfortable and Mrs. Hunt had told Mrs. A., who had told Mrs.
wanted for nothing, she did not look around. B., who repeated it to Mrs. C, how he had not
The intruder stood still one step within the stopped in Kew York an hour after he stepped
room, as if unable to advance or speak. The ashore from the Adriatic. He drove to the
languid attitude of the figure before him, so bank, and ascertained from Mr. Hunt that his
uulike the sell-poise and quiet energy of her and that a boat which
wife was with her aunt,
former deportment, her black dress, even the would laud him near Shrewsbury was to leave
wasted bands dropped so wearily upon her in fifteen minutes. So he drove down post-
storm that had passed over her,
lap, told of the haste,and jumped on board of her after the
the utter revolution in her life and nature. A plank had been drawn in and the wheels
struggling sigh he could not repress broke began to move. There never was a more de-
from the gazer's breast, and Sarah turned voted husband or a more attached pair, Mrs.
hastily towards him. She did not swoon, as Hunt aflirmed.
he feared she would. A thrill, like an electric ,
" More than she could say for that flirting
shock, shook her from head to foot a wild ; Mrs. Benson and her other half," agreed A. B.
iucjuiry looked from her eyes a question of ; and C. unanimously.
the reality of the appearance, succeeding so " Her conduct at Newport was scandalous,
closely to did it grow out of her reverie ? and would have been outrageous if he had not
Lewis put this imagination to flight. watched her like a lynx!" said Mrs. Beau
Sarah !" be said, pressing in his the bands Monde, who bad never been able to secure one
she extended mutely. ''They told me you half as many admirers as bad Lucy, and hated
were lost, and I hurried home to find you. I her as honestly as if they were a couple of
could not wait for your permission to come to Biddies pulling caps for Patrick or Murphy.
you, when I learned iu New York that I had a " I don't see why he should have felt jea-
living wife ! The loss of the child was heavy lous, I am sure. He wasn't dying of love for
enough ;but this " He could say no more. her ! That could be seen with half an eye.
' am thankful am
I ! I glad th.-it you are They say he loved llrs. Hammond before he
-ere!" A faint, beautiful smile shone over addressed her sister, and married this oue out
herwan features. " And our baby, Lewis We ! of spite, " rejoined Mrs. Townes, who had made
must remember that she is an angel now!" beaux yeux at the disiimjui Southerner for three
whole evenings, and won only the most indif-
ferent glances in requital.
" Mrs. Hammond behaved very prudently ;"
CHAPTER XX.
pronounced Mrs. Greyling, "and dressed very
To no one except Aunt Sarah were the facts well. I suppose Mr, Hammond brought her
of the estmngemeut and reconciliation of her some elegant things from abroad. Pity she is
relatives ever revealed, and within her faithful in mourning, and must dress plainly at pre-
bosom the secret was hidden as securely as iu sent If I were iu her place as it was only a
!

a tomb.
baby I would not wear black more than six
Great was the chagrin of gossips, male and months, unless it was I'ery becoming."
female,when it was known that Mrs. Ham- " Slie has become very religious, you know, '

mond's strange flight from her father's house, said Mrs. Parton.
which had leaked out nobody knew how, and " Indeed ! People are apt to, I think, when
 ! ! ; : :

170 godey's lady's book and magazine.

there has been death in the family," concluded THE SOLDIER'S WAYSIDE DREAM.
Mrs. Greyling, peusivelj. *'
I remember, when BT S. F. FLINT.
my poor sister died, I used to look forward to {Seventh Illinois Infantry.)
church and Sunday with real pleasure. I could The word was "Rest." The dusty road was rocky,
not go anywhere on week-days, you know, worn, and steep ;

although there were piles of tickets lying iu And many a sun-browned soldier's face sank on his
breast to sleep.
my card-receiver, and we had just taken a bos
Afar, the Alabama hilla swept round in billowy lines ;

at the opera that very winter 1 I declare, I

The soft ^'reea of their bowery slopes was dotted dark
should have lost the run of the fashions en- with pines
tirely, and forgotten people's faces, if I had not And from their tops a gentle breeze, born in the cloud-
gone to church. I dare say, too, that she finds less sky,
Stole through the valley where a stream was fclowly
some comfort in religion poor woman if !

warbling by ;
what the preachers and good books tell us be And, as it passed, it brought a cloud of odors in its
true." plumes,
Had Sarah found comfort ? Of violets and columbines, and milk-white plam-tree
Look we, for reply, to the chastened lustre of blooms.
The coolness and the perfume o'er my weary senses
the eye, where once burned restless fires, like
crept,
the sunward gaze of the imprisoned eagle to ;
And with my musket on my arm I bowed my head and
the holy serenity struggling through and finally slept.

dispelling the clouds of memory and regret No more the Alabama hills no more the waving pines. ;

that, at times, would roll iu between lier soul But still the scent of violets and red wild columbines
I drew my breath iu ecstasy, my feet were shod wiib
aud the bright, siistaining hope upon which
joy
Faith would have its regards forever fixed ; to Idreamed I trod tbe prairie sod in my beautiful Illinois.
her daily life, sanctified by prayer, beneficent The lark sang welcome from the grass, the well-knowu
in good works, and by its unostentatious love- path along,
liness winning others, first to admire, then to And the pulsations of my heart seemed echoes of his
song;
imitate ; to the wifely submission and loving
I thought the sunlight nevershone so gloriously before ;

kindness of her bearing to her husband, her But sweeter were the smiles of love that mei me at tbo
grateful estimate of the afi"ection he lavished door.
npon her, the deep, true tenderness growing hold my hand while yet you may, love of my earlier

up in her heart for this fond and noble com- years.

And wet my fice, my mother, with thy proud and happy
panion look we, lastly, to the snowy marble
;
tears !

guarding that tiny mound in Greenwood, wJiere And bless me again, my father bless me again, I pray!
the mother once believed that hope and joy For I hear the bngle I hear the drum I have but an
were buried to know no awaking. hour to stay.
Alas ! my dreaming words were true ; I woke, and knew
"BABY BELLE," it all
IJiFANT DAUGHTER OF 1 heard the clamor of the drum I heard the capiain'es

call
LEWIS AND SARAH HAMMOND. ;

had heard before

And over all another voice I oft
SHE WEST HOME A sound that stirs the dullest heart the cannon's miif-

Juhj 16, 18 , aged 8 months. fled roar

" /* it well tcith thee f 1% well with thy husbfind f No longer "Eest,"but "Forward!" for, ere the day i^
it

Is it will with tlie child f^^ Arid sfie ansiocred, done.

It will tell of tbe fearful glory of a battle lost and won
"It is well!" ,

And ere the breath of its blackened lips has time lo iifi

away,
My hand must be red and warm with blood, or white

Cheekffl Mrsic. The poet Carpani once and cold as clay !

my
asked his friend Haydn how it happened that pray for me in thy gentle heart, love of earlier
years
his church music was always of an animating, nappy
And mother, only weep for me those proud and
cheerful, and gay description. Haydn's answer tears I

was, " I cannot make it otherwise. I write And bless me again, my father, bless me while yet you
according to the thoughts which I feel. When may!
I thiuk upon God, my heart is so full of joy, My dream-words may be* doubly true I may have but
an hour to etay I
that the notes dance and leap, as it were, from
my pen ; and since God has given me a cheer-
ful heart, it will be easily forgiven me that I A TRUE believer, when blessed with a smiling
serve him with a cheerful spirit." imagination, is the happiest of mankind.
 SLATE-PENCIL DRAWINGS.
These Slate-poncil drawings are from FiiUer & Brother's very pretty Drawing-Books.
Price 12J cents a uumlier.
 NOVELTIES FOE AUGUST.
CHEMISETTE, WAIST, SLEEVES, CAP, COIFEUEE, ETC.

Fig. 1. Fig. 3.

Fig. 2. Fig. 4.

|\% '/I

Fig. 1. New style of chemisette, trimmed Fig. 4.

New style of muslin undersleeve
with deep lace. Open to the elbow, and trimmed with a hand-
Fig. 2. Waist made of black lace ; the upper some ruffle.

part plain, and the lower part trimmed with Fig. 5. Full suit for a little boy, suitable
puffs of the lace, with hlack velvet between. for any material.
The sleeves are trimmed to match. Fig. 6. Au infant's cap, formed of embroi-
Fig. 3. Fancy muslin undersleeve, trimmed dery, and trimmed with Valenciennes lace and
with a ruffle. a very large cherry velvet rosette.
172
 NOVELTIES POK AUGUST. 173

Fig. . Fig. .

^^^

/.
fig. very pretty made in either blue or green cloth,
the collar and cuffs being velvet, and wh^n
worn with the new buff or white vest, with a
small neck-tie and pnffed linen under-shirt,

with a small standing collar, is as stylish and

perfect a costume as our lady equestrians can
adopt.
The buttons may be either gold or velvet, to

Fig. 7. Coiffure composed of lavender relvet match the coll-ir.

and and highly ornamented with
bl.ack lace,
roses and fancy grasses.

PATTERNS FROM MADAME DEMOREST'S

ESTABLISHMENT,
No. 473 Broaduai/, JVcw York.
Burnside Hahit. A new riding-habit, the
jacket closely resembling a gentleman's cut-
away coat ; the skirt of the jacket is quite
short the sleeve, the plain tight-fitting coat
; TTte Leonora Si'cere. This sleeve is closed at
style, with a turned-back cuff. This habit is the wrist, but cut open nearly up to the elbow,
174 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

so as to show the white undersleere. It is left in ; requiring two and a half yards fo'r a
shaped like the small bishop, only longer. It child of thirteen years.
is then cut up at the back about half way, The Clerical Tie. This is one of the nume-
gathered on each side, and a trimming of ruf- rous variations of the popular tie, called "Cle-
fles, or ribbon laid on, finished with a bow at rical." It is made without a bow, merely two
the top of the opening. The sleeve is also wide ends with a catch across, in which the
gathered at the seam, inside the arm ; it has a
cap cut in two points, trimmed like the open-
ing at the back of the sleeve, and finished with
a bow, and a small turned-back cuff, cut and
trimmed like the cap.
Misses' Street SacJc. This pattern is sack
shape, with a seam in the back. The fiont has
a seam or small gore taken out, beginning at

brooch is placed. It is composed of very fine

muslin or bishop lawn edged, and trimmed
with rows of Valenciennes lace between each ;

row of lace the muslin is delicately embroi-

dered. The "Clerical" is also very pretty
edged with lace, and having a handsome me-
dallion in each end. Another kind, much
worn, is made of fine muslin with large bows,
the ends simply tucked, or tucked and inser-
tion let in. Any of these styles are eleg.int
the arm-size, and runs about half the length of and becoming, especially to a fair complexion.
the sack. This seam fits it slightly, and gives This tie is well suited to light silks and other
a better outline than when the usual fulnpss is fabrics.

EMBROIDERY.

o O o o o o
O /kOaOAOaO/KQ
BKA^IlI^G PATTERN.

%
 WORK DEPABTMENT. 175

LATEST STYLES OF APRONS.

Fig. 1.

Fipr. 1. The Medori Apron. This apron has a I velvet are laid round the apron and the sash 13

small ginlle bound ^vith black velvet, with a heavilv fringed.

white edge. Two rows of black and white | Fig. 2. 77ie Alezandra. This apron is made
Fig. 2.

vol. ixvii. 15
 176 GODEY'S lady's book ANT) MAGAZINE.

of black silk and trimmed with narrow piaked sions, we trust that the following simple direc-
ruffles. A white braid is laid througli the cen- tions will prove useful to those ladies who wish
on the front of the apron, and
tre of the ruffle to provide the travellers with Knickerbocker
the buttons are black, with white centres. stockings.
Commence on the top of the leg, cast' on 31
stitches on each of four needles, in all 124
GENTLEMAN'S KNICKERBOCKER STOCK- stitches. Keep the fifth needle to make it

INGKNITTING. round.
Materials. 6 ounces of coarse Scotch yarn, gray or Ist round. Knit 2 and purl 2 alternittely J

brown; S knitting needles, No. 16, Bell Gauge. This repeat all round. Work 41 rounds mo^e the
will make a very strong and thick stocking, but if same.
may
wished finer, fingering yarn be used instead.
43d round. Purl the first stitch, knit the
rest plain. Work
140 rounds plain, but purl-
ing the 1st stitch of every alternate round,
which be continued to the end of the heel
is to
to form the seam then to decrease the leg.
;

184(A round.
Knit 1, knit 2 together, knit the
rest plain to the last 2 stitches, then knit 1,
slip 1, turn tlie slipped stitch over the knitted A
one, which will make the decrease stitches"
correspond with the other side of the seam.
Knit 4 rounds plain, still purling the seam ,

stitch.
Repeat the last 5 rounds IS times more,
when be reduced to 86 stitches.
it will
Knit 82 rounds plain as before.
Then to shape the heel, purl 1, knit 22, turn
back so as to work on the last stitches and ;

for the
l.<!( roio. Slip 1, purl 44, turn back.
2d. Slip 1,knit 21, purl the seam, knit 22,
turn back ; these 45 stitches should all be on
one needle, and the remaining 41 stitches are
to be kept on two of the needles until required
for the front. Repeat these 2 rows 29 times ,

more.
61s(. Slip 1, purl the rest.
62(i. Slip 1, knit 19, knit 2 together, purl 1,

slip 1, knit 1, turn over, knit 20.

Repeat the last 2 rows 3 times more, working!
one stitch less each time before decreasing
then slip 1, purl 18. Place the two needles
together, so as to double the work, and with
the 3d needle slip 1, then knit a stitch oiTeach
pin together, turn the slipped stitch over, knit
a stitch off each pin together again, turn the
1st stitch over, and repeat until these stitches
are cast off.

The Instep. Commence at the last stitch of

the 41 on the needle, and with the 3d
left

needle raise 36 stitches from the selvage of

There are but few articles which a lady has the rows at the right side of the heel. Take
it in her power to work which prove really ser- another needle and raise 36 stitches from the
viceable to a gentleman. For long pedestrian left side of the selvage and for the ;

excursions, the Knickerbocker possesses great 1st round.

Knit the 41 stitches on the two
advantages over the ordinary long trousers ;
needles, then on the stitches which were raised
anda the time has now come
for summer excur- purl 1, knit 70, purl 1.

t
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 177

2d. AM plain.
3cl. Knit 41, purl 1, slip 1, kuit 1, turn over,
A NEW MODE OF PAINTING IN OIL.

knit tJG, kuit 2 together, purl 1.

BT A CONTRIB ITOR,
Repeat the last 2 rounds 13 times more, knit- Proccre a stretcher the size of the engraving,
ting 2 stitches less at the ti6 stitches eitch time. allowing only so much of the margin to remain
Then work Hi rounds plain, purling the 2 seam as will bring the frame to the edge of the pic-
stitches every alternate round. ture when it is done. Procure also the finest
93rf. Knit 2 together, knit 37, slip 1, knit 1, and whitest canton flannel, and nail it to the
turn over, purl 1, knit 2 together, kuit 3S, stretcher with small tacks, closely and evenly,
slip 1, knit 1, turn over, purl 1. and as tight as possible, leaving the n.ip side
94(/i. All plain. up. Dissolve a few cents' worth white glue,
Repeat these 2 rounds 12 times more, knitting when dissolved, put it into boiling water, and
2 stitches less between each of the decreases ;
stir continually for a few moments. Have
Uien double the remaining stitches and cast ready some clear starch, nicely prepared in
them off the same as at the heel. cold water, and stir into the boiling glue.
Take a flat bristle brush, and apply the prepa-

> _-
PATTERNS FOR NETTING OR CROCHET.

--
WZm
-
Fig. 1.

.
.
-
ration to the canton fl.innel evenly,
brush the way the nap lies, smoothly, until
every part of the flannel is saturated. Lay tie
lithograph on a clean white cloth (after wetting
it thoroughly in clean water), and lay another
moving the

laai upon it to absorb the superfluous

_-
clean cloth
-: .. _
.. -
moisture. Then let two persons take hold of
.. - BBH .
. . I
-
. the engraving, one person at each end, and lay
-
-
-
..
.-
- _ _
-->__ -- -
_

-
-
itcarefully and exactly, right side up, the
wrong side next to the nap of the flannel.
Take a soft clean cloth, and, commencing in

- _
-
- -
- -.

.
_
_ -_ .- -
the middle of the picture, rub lightly
until it is perfectly smooth, free from blisters
all over,

.._ - and air-bubbles. Then with the brush, which

-
-flaaaflB
-BBB BB-B B
aa
BBBB B
BB
.aaai a
bbb. b
B-aa_-a
BB BB
b_ aaa
BB - BB-
_

~
must be fine .and smooth, go over the picture
with the same preparation, and set it away to
BBiaB"':i~~B a _b' aai B
BBBB-B -B HB
aaflB ^BB^BBBB B
_
BB B
B. aBBB BB Bl a
-! dry.
BBB BBBB BBBBBB BBBBBB-BBaB-l
^aaaaa-BaflBB Ba-aaaaaBi
-BaBBaaaBaBBBBBBB BBaaBaaaaaaaai
After it is perfectly dry, give it one more
-aaaBBiBBaBBaBBiaaaaBBaaaaaaBaaai coat, being cautious to have it perfectly dry at
Ij first. Allow not the least lump or roughness
Vigs. 1 and 2. Serviettes suitable for fruit- to exist in the glue. AVhen the last coat is
baskets or small trays. Their effect will be perfectly dry, commence to paint on the side
prepared with the glue in the same manner as

'' - ' ---B-

--
Fig. 2.

ii;5S!z:"~5S.
if it was a sketch drawn for oil
observing the lights and sh.ades as they
painting by an

III!~IB 5. artist,

--^""
aa
1
- -
IlliS!?;;~i5
BB-BB-~;;BBB
-BB"--aaB-~-aB iiaa-;Ba
I""I~II"!;iS!-!5!S
are found in the lithograph.
same manner
as many coats as are desired (though two will
generally be found suflicient), glazing, scum-
Proceed in the
as in the oil p.ainting, putting on

'Ba~B^^B~
IBBB
IBBB
BBB
BBS
IBBBBBBB
BB-BB
BBBB
BB BBBB BB ::!_,
BBBBB- BBBBB
BB-BB-BB
BB' BB'BB BBBBBBBBBB
B
-BBBa_B,
IBSSS;"!.
-BBBBB B-I^ISJJB-iB
"
"55II-I-SS5S-S
BBB-B

! bling,
in
and being especially careful and delicate
blending the
tints. There will be no real
necessity for so much labor; but each artist
"_sss!r5
BB-BBB aBB"BB. can follow his own phin. When the engraving
aaaaaBB
-aa
.
a~Baaa aaa-
BB-aaaa-
BB-B a aa-
is painted, let it dry perfectly before varnishing,
-BB which must be done with pure mastic varnish,
aaBa-~~~~~a-
^ _
;BB-B-B-a BBBB BBBB
BBBBaBaaBaBaBBaB---a-
BaaBBBBBBaa iri.inS. laid on quite thin, or, if thick, diluted with
a
^
BBB-B BBBB
BB IISIISE
>
a aBBBaBBBBB-;-B
BB-aa"BB BB
a,
__ZI5- spirits of tui-pentine.
-ssBOBBaBBaaaaaaaaBBaBaBBBBB The advantage in this style of painting is the
SBsa
saying of time and labor in sketching, also in
'
considerably improved if they are edged round the number of coats required. Landscapes are
, with a broad net fringe. formed very nice in this way, and defy the
178 gouey's lady's book ai

closest observer to discover that they are en- small, must be allowed either on the flannel or
gravings. If well mounted and properly pre- on the engraving. The colors can be chosen
pared, they will last as long as any other paint- according to taste. Use the best tube oil paint
ings. Let the frame touch the edge of tlie and best brushes, a palette and knife. Thin a
engraving, covering the margin, and receiving little with poppy oil, if necessary. Very small
the stretcher also, as in oil painting. white objects need not be painted at all the
The preparation of glue must be applied varnishing will give the effect. Commence
when moderately warm not a lump, however
; painting at the top, and go (om left to right.

NAME FOK MAKKING.

Oo"

gentleman's flannel shikt.

A new pattern, which will be found very convenient.

 WORK DEPARTMEXT. 179

No. 1 mesh. Net 2 stitches into every loop.

A NETTED TIDY.
Round mesh. Net sufficient rows to make 13

MaterinU. Three meshea 5o. 1, roand meth, aqoar*
;
diamonds, reckoning them perpendUularli/, and
ter of ao inch to measare roood No. 2, a half an inch
;

not across.
flat mesh ;No. 3, three-quarters of an iucb, also flat. It
vlll be iicce-itarf ta place a number on each of the No. 2 mesh. 1 row plain.
meshes. No. 6 cotton. No. 8 cotton, or Magenta-colored Same mesh. Net 4 stitches into every loop.
Aadalaslan n-ool.
No. 1 mesh. 1 row taking up 4 loops of last
With round mesh. Net on a foandation row into every stitch.
(which must afterwards be cut off). ItJ stitches,
Repeat these 2 last rows for six patterns of
L stitches more ; after the
lastrow when No. 1 mesh is
netted, net with same mesh
2 more rows plain.

Border. * No. 3 mesh.
Net 9 stitches into 1 loop
(remove this mesli, and take
up No. 1 mesh), then net 5
stitches, 1. e., 1 stitch into
every loop, repeat from *,

thus using the 2 meshes al-

ternately all round.

Round mesh. Begin on the
L stitches, and net 1 stitch
into every loop of the P, then
net 2 of the short stitches
into 1, then 1 plain, then
net the 2 remaining short
stitches into 1, and repeat.
Same mesh. 2 next rows.
Net 1 stitch into every loop
all round.
No. 1 mesh. 1 row, netting
1 stitch into every alternate
loop.
unite, and net 4 rows of knots, or three dia- Darnikg the Patterx. The heauty and
uiomls. strength of the darning in all netted work de-
No. 1 mesh. Net 2 stitches into every loop. pends so much upon the method of working,
Round mesh. Net 3 rows, or 2 diamonds. that a few words upon the subject will not be
No. 1 mesh. Net 2 stitches into each loop.
flat out of place. Tlie darning should always run
Round mesh. Net 2 rows or 1 diamond. one way the needle used should be a blunt
;

No. 1 mesh. 1 row plain. top rug needle of large size the end of cotton
;

Same mesh. Net 2 stitches into each loop= should never be longer than can be conveniently
128 stitches. used. First, to fasten on, make a small loop
Round mesh. 5 rows, or4 diamonds. in the cotton about four inches from the end,
No. 1 mesh. 1 row plain *. pass the needle through one thread of the dia-
Same mesh. 1 row netting, 2d stitch 1st, and mond, then through the small loop, and draw
1st stitch 2d. it up tight (this short end of cotton must after-

Round mesh. 2 plain rows, or 1 diamond *. wards be darned in), darn the pattern till the
Repeat from * to * again. long end is used to within an inch or two, then
No. 1 mesh. Net three stitches into every tie on another end with a weaver's knot very
loop. tight, and continue the work, slipping the
Round mesh. 1 row, Laking up 3 loops into needle and cotton where the pattern requires it
every stitch. Now continue these 2 last rows between the basket-work resemblance of the
till there are 5 patterns of the long stitches darning, and when required to fasten oflf, run
(tha last part of the pattern mast finish with the cotton backwards and forwards, so that it

the small round mesh). is unseen, till it becomes impossible to unravel

15
 ; ;

180 godey's lady's book and magazine.

with washing. To dam the present engraved 1st rouj. Plain with cotton.
pattern, run a piece of colored wool into every 2d. Net two stitches with cotton ; having
20th diamond from top to bottom in each of ;
threaded the wool on one needle, lay the cotton
these divisions the pattern must be worked needle down not cut it off; take up the wool
;

then in the 10th diamond, close against the needle, and in the same stitch that has the last

bottom rows of the border, commence to work
the centre of the termination of the pattern, as
in engraving, with Trafalgar cotton or Andalu-
aian wool.
knot of cotton, pass the needle with the wool
up through this stitch (leaving out a short end),
then over the mesh and through the stitch
again for eight times now with the left thumb
;

draw the cotton on one side from the wool

pass the wool-needle down between the tuft of
wool and the loose cotton pull the needle
TUFT NETTING IN WOOL AND COTTON. ;

through downwards, and then pass it up

Materials. Cotton, No. 4 ; a flat mesh five-eighths of
an inch wide, two long netting needles, and some skeins through the loop, which forms a button-hole
of Magenta or red violet-colored Berlin or Andalusian stitch or tie over the tuft now net a stitch
;

wool the latter is the prettiest, and does not felt or mat
; into the wool into the same loop where the tuft
together lilie the Berlin wool. bringing the end of wool upwards so as to
is,

This netting is entirely original, and is not tie it in with the knot of the stitch, then cut ofl'

to be found in any netting or other books treat- both ends of wool, and lay the wool needle
ing of fancy-work. It works well, and is adapt- down take up the needle with the cotton
;

ed for sofa pillows, work-table covers, and which has not been cut off, and net two loops ;

tidies. repeat with the tuft of wool into where the last
An even number of stitches, but edge stitches cotton stitch was netted.
may be added.
Next row. Plain netting.

E3IBK0IDEET.
 WOKK DEPARTMENT, 181

EMBBOmEBES ISIIIALS FOB A PILLOW-CASE.

EJIBEOIDERT PATTEEXS.

^-^.^^ '--A^^^X^v^^ \,^_/^^^^_^

 ;

182 godey's lady's book and magazine.

so on until the fruit is all in. Stand it over hot ashes

until the sugar ia entirely dissolved then boil them
lUnipts, ^t. until they are clear ; take them out piece by piece, and
;

spread them on a dish free from syrup. Boil the syrup

in the pan until it jellies; when the peaches are cold,
DIRECTIONS FOR PRESERVING FRUITS, ETC.
fill the jars half full with them, and fill up with tho

Peaches. The foUowiug is the best plan for preserv- boiling syrup. Let them stand a short time covered
ing peaches in cans :
with a thin cloth, then put on brandy paper, and cover
Take the peaches, either just ripe or fully ripe this them close with corks, skiu, or paper. From twenty to
does not matter; pare them, and if you desire to pre- thirty minutes will generally be sufficient to preserve
serve them whole, throw them into cold water as they them.
are pared, to prevent them from losing color. When Peach jam, or Marmalade. The fruit for this pre-
everything is ready, place them in the can, adding merely serve must be quite ripe and perfectly sound. Pare,
as much sugar to each layer as is sufficient to render atone, weigh, and boil it quickly for three-quarters of
them palatable set the can in a vessel containing hot
; an hour, aud do not fail to stir it often during the time ;

water, and allow it to remain in boiling water until the draw it from the fire, aud mix with it ten ounces of
fruit becomes heated through this will require, if a ; well-refined sugar, rolled or beaten to powder, for each
quart can be used, from twenty minutes to half an hour. pound of the peaches clear it carefully from the scum ;

The temperature required is about 160^ F. A very little and boil it briskly for five minutes add the strained ;

experience will enable any one to know the proper tem- juice of one or two good lemons continue the boiling ;

perature. It is not possible to heat the contents of the for three minutes only, and pour out the marmalade.
can in this way above a temperature of ISO^, unless the Two minutes after the sugar is stirred to the fruit add
cover is fastened down, which is not necessary; but it the blanched kernels of part of the peaches.
is evident that it is desirable to subject them to as little
Brandy Peaches. Take four pounds of ripe peaches,
heat as possible. When heated sufBciently, seal at once,
two pounds powdered loaf-sugar. Put the fruit over the
by heating the cover, and pressing at once firmly into
fire in cold water ; siimiia', but not boil, till the skins
place, aod allowing a weight sufficient to keep down
will rub ofi' easily. Stone them, if liked. Put the sugar
the cover to remain upon it until the cement hardens.
and fruit in alternate layers in the jars till filled ; theu
The proper temperature of the lid is easily and conve- pour in white brandy, and cover the whole. Cork
nieutly ascertained by putting a piece of rosin about the
tightly.
size of a small pea on the cover, when it is put upon the
Quinces Preserved Whole. Pare and put them into
stove; as soon as the rosin melts the cover is ready to
a saucepan, with the parings at the top then fill it with ;
be put in place. This precaution is necessary, as the
hard water cover it close set it over a gentle fire till ;
Bolder with which the parts of the lid are joined together
;

they turn reddish put them

; let thera st.ind till cold ;
easily melts.
into a clear, thick syi'up them a few minutes set ; boil ;
It is not absolutely necessary to use sugar in this
assists in the preservation of the fruits,
them on one side till quite cold boil them again in the ;
process, but, as it
same manner; the next day boil them until they look
they can be sealed at a lower temperature than if it la
clear; if tho syrup is not thick enough, boil it more;
not used. As sugar is used to render the fruits palatable,
there can be no objection to using it when preparing the
when cold, put brandied paper over them. The quinces
fruit for family use, as it will, in any case, be necessary,
may be halved or quartered.

and there is no reason why the sugar should not be used To Preserve Pineapples. Slice the pineapples rather
before the can is sealed, as afterwards. thinner to preserve than to eat, and take oue pound of
loaf-sugar to one pound of fruit powder the sugar, and
An Economical way of Preserving Peaches Whole. ;

place in the kettle alternately a layer of pineapple and

To pounds of cliug-stone peaches take seven
fifteen
a layer of fruit. To each pound of fruit put three table-
and a half pounds of loaf-sugar put two or three quarts ;

spoonfuls of water. Let it remain over a slow fire until

of water in the kettle with one teaspooaful of pearl-ash
the sugar is nil melted ; then boil it slowly until the
to destroy the skins of the fruit. When the water is
fruit looks clear ; take out the fruit piece by piece, and
hot, throw in a few peaches, and let thera remain a few
lay thera on a dish, until the syrup is boiled nearly to
minutes take them out and wipe ofi" the skins with a
;

a jelly. Put the fruit in jars, aud pour on the syrup

coarse towel, and then throw them into cold water.
hot. After putting on brandy papers, cover the jars
Take half the sugar with as little water as possible to
with paper and paste it on, which secures their keeping,
dissolve it then put in a layer of peaches, and let them
;

and preserves the flavor of the pineapple.

boil from twenty to thirty minutes. Take them out on
a flat dish to cool. After two or three layers have been Pineapple Jam. Pare and weigh the pineapples, aud
boiled in this way, the syrup will increase; by degrees grate them down on To one pound of
a large grater.
add the rest of the sugar. When all are done, boil the fruit put three-quarters of a pound of powdered sugar
syrup until it becomes a little thick, then add while in put it over the fire, and when it comes to a boil, stir till

the kettle half a pint of alcohol, which will cool and done. Boil it half an hour or more till clear put it in ;

thicken it sufficiently to put on the peaches, which jars, and cover it carefully.

should be ready in your jars do not cover them until ; Cantelope Rind Preserved. Take one pound of rind
the next day. They will not have the least taste of the not quite mellow, and cut the outside carefully off ; lay
alcohol, aud are a very fine preserve. it in a bowl and sprinkle over
one teaspoonful of alum it ;

To Preserve Peaches. The clear-stone yellow cover it with boiling water, and let it stand all night;
peaches, white at the stone are the best. Weigh the then dry it in a cloth, scald it in ginger tea, but do not
fruit after it To each pound of fruit allow a
is pared. boil it then dry it ajfain in a cloth to one pound of
; ;

pound of loaf-sugar. Put a layer of sugar at the bottom rind allow one pound of sugar and half a pint of water.
of the preserving-kettle, and then a layer of fruit, and Boil it an hour.
 RECEIPTS. 183

To PsBSERVB Plums Dbt. Gather the plums when .. Qci.xcE AND Afplb Jellt. Cut small and core an
ftallgrowa and Jast taraiog color prick and put them ;
equal weight of tart apples and quinces: pat the quinces
ioto a aauce-paa of cold water, bet tbem ou the fire until in a preserving kettle, with water to cover them, aud
the water ts oq the poiot of hoiliog tUeu take them out, ; boil till soft add the apples, still keeping water to
;

drain, aud boil tbem well in Bome clarified sugar, let cover them, and boil till the whole is nearly a pulp put ;

them settle, and then boil again if they shrink, and ; the whole into a Jelly-bag, and strain without pressing.
will not take the sugar, prick them as they lie in the
pan, and then give them another boil, t>ktm and set them
by the next day add some more sugar, boiled to the
TOMATOES.
;

fruit and syrup then put them together, place tbem in

;
Tomato Preserves. Take the round yellow variety

a Ktove till next day, then drain the plums from the as soon as ripo, scald and peelthen to seven pounds of
;

syrup, sprinkle a little powdered sugar over and dry tomatoes add seven pounds of white sugar, and let them
them in a stove. stand over night; take the tomatoes out of the sugar,
and boil the syrup, removing the scum put In the
JxM OF Okeexgaoes. Putripe greengages into a ket-
;

tomatoes, and boll gently fifteen or twenty minutes ; re-

tle,with very little water, and let them stew until soft
move the fruit again, and boil until the syrap thickens.
then rub them through a sieve or colander, and to every
On cooling, put the fruit into jars, and pour the syrup
pint of pulp put a pound of white sugar powdered fine
over it, and add a few slices of lemon to each jar, and
then pot it in a preserving-kettle over the fire, stir it
you will have something to please the taste of the most
until the whole is of the consistence of a jelly, then take
fastidious.
It off ; put the marmalade in small jars or tumblers, aud
cover as directed for jelly.
To Pickle Tomatoes. Always use those which are
thoroughly ripe. The small round ones are decidedly
Blackberries. Preserve these as strawberries or cur-
the best. Do not prick them, as most receipt-books direct.
rants, either liquid, or jam, or jelly. Blackberry jelly
Let them lie in strong brine three or four days, then put
or jam an excellent medicine in summer complaints
is
them down in layers in yoMr jars, mixing with them
or dysentery. To make it, crush a quart of fully ripe
small onions and pieces of horseradish then pour on the ;
blackberries with a pound of the best loaf-sugar put it ;
vinegar (cold), which should be first spiced as for pep-
orer a gentle fire and cook it until thick then put to it ;

pers; let there be a spice-bag to throw into every pot.

a gill of the best fourth-proof brandy stir it a while ;
Cover them carefully, and set them by in the cellar for
over the fire, then put it in pots.
a full mouth before using.
Blackbbkrt asd Wi.ve Cordial. We avail ourselves Tomato Catsdp. Take ripe tomatoes, and scald them
of the kindness of a friend to publish the following ex-
just sufficient to allowyou to take off the skin then let ;
oellent receipt for making cordial. It is recommended
them stand for a day, covered with salt strain them tho- ;
as a delightful beverage aud an in/aUihle spicijic for
roughly to remove the seeds then to every two quarts,
;
diarrhcea or ordinary disease of the bowels :
add three ounces of cloves, two of black pepper, two
Seceipt.^To half a bushel of blackberries, well mashed, nutmegs, and a very little Cayenne pepper, with a little
sdd a quarter of a pound of allspice, two ounces of cin- salt; boil the liquor for half an hour, and then lei it
namon, two ounces of cloves; pulverize well, mix, and cool and settle ; add a pint of the best cider vinegar,
boil slowly until properly done; then strain or squeeze afterwhich bottle it, corking and sealing it tightly.
the juice through homespua or fiannel, and add to each
Keep it always in a cool place.
pint uf the juice one pound of loaf sugar boil again for
some time, take it off, aud while cooling, add half a gal-
;

Another way. Take one bushel of tomatoes, and boil
them until they are soft squeeze them through a fine
;
lon of the best Cognac braudy.
Wire sieve, and add half a gallon of vinegar, one pint
Dose.
For an adult, half a gill to a gill for a child, ;

and a half of salt, two ounces of cloves, quarter of a

a teaspoonful or more, according to age.
pound of allspice, two ounces of Cayenne pepper, three
Blacebebbt Wise. The fullowing is said to be an teaspoonfuls of black pepper, five heads of garlic skimied
excellent receipt for the manufacture of superior wine mix and boil about three hours
and separated ; cogeiher, ;

from blackberries: Measure your berries and bruise or until reduced to about one-haU then bottle, without
;

them, to every gallon adding one quart of boiling water

straining.
let the mixture stand twenty-four fturs, stirring occa-

sionally then strain off the liquor into a cask, to every

;

gallon adding two pounds of sugar cork tight, and let ;

DRINKS FOR HOT WEATHER.
stand till the following October, and you will have Appleade.
Cut two large apples in slices, and pour
wine ready without any further straining or
for use, a quart of bulling water on them strain well, and ;

boiling, tbat will makelipssmackasthey never smacked, sweeten. To be drunk when cold, or iced.

under eimitar infiuence, before. Indian Gisoer Beer. To ten quarts of boiling water
Grape Jrlly. Strip from their stalks some fine ripe add two ounces of pounded giuger, one ounce of cream
black-cluster grapes, and stir them with a wooden spoon of tartar, two limes, and two pounds of sugar. Stir
over a gentle fire until all have burst, and the juice until cold, then strain through fiannel until quite clear,
flows freely from them strain it off without pressure,
;
adding a pint of good beer, and four wineglassfuls of
and pass through a jelly-bag, or through a twice-
It good toddy. Bottle, tie down the corks, shake each
folded muslin weigh and then boil it rapidly for twenty
:
bottle well for some time, place them opright, and they
minutes; draw it from the fire, stir in it till dissolved will be fit to drink the next day. This ginger beer will
fourteen ounces of good sugar, roughly powdered, to not keep long.
each pound of juice, and boil the jelly quickly for fifteen OaoEAT. Blanch and pound three-quarters of a pound
minutes longer, keeping it constantly stirred, and per- of sweet almonds, and thirty bitter almonds, with one
fectly well skimmed. It will be very clear, aud of a tablespoonful of water. Stir in by degrees two pintb of
beautiful pale rose-color. water and three pints of milk, and strain the whole


184 godey's lady's book and magazine.

throQgb a cloth. Dissolve one-half a pound of loaf sugar CocoANpT Cakb. One coffee cup of butter, three o<

in one pint of water boil, skim well, and mix with the
; sugar, one of milk, four and a half of flour, four eggs
almond water, adding two tableepoonfuls of orange- the whites beaten to a stiff" froth
one teaspoon of soda,
flower water, and one teacupful of good brandy. two of cream tartar, one cocoa-nut grated. Excellent.
Refreshinq Summer Beverage. Take one-half an
French Cake. Two cups sugar, three of flour, halfali|
ounce cream of tartar, the juice and rind of a lemon, one cup butter, three eggs, one cup milk, two teaspoons
half a pound of loaf sugar, and one-quarter an ounce of cream tartar, one teaspoon soda.
bruised ginger. Pour on these half a gallon of boiling Jumbles. Three cups of sugar, two of butter, three
water, stand till cold, and strain through a hair sieve. eggs, four tablespoons of sour cream, one teaspoon sale-
Lemonade. Boil together and skim one pound of loaf- ratus. Roll thin, sprinkle coflee sugar thickly on the
sugar, and one-half a pint of water. Melt in a tea- top before placing tbem in the oven.
epoouful of water, one-half an ounce of citric or tartaric To Make Yeast. Five large potatoes, one quart of
acid. Let the syrup stand until and then add
it is cold, boiling water, one cup of brown sugar, one cup of yeast.
the acid and a teaspoonfu 1 of essence of lemon, and when Boil your potatoes, and sift them ; add your sugar,
it is wanted for use, four quarts of water, and a little
when milk-warm, your yeast ; half a cup is sufficient
more sugar, if desired. for two loaves.

Sherbet. Boil two pounds of sugar in a quart of Orange Color. Two ounces of saleratus, one ounce
water. Pare six oranges and two lemons very thin.
,
of otter, six quarts of soft water. Dip your yarn in hot
Mix together the boiling syrup, the peel of the fruit, water, then in the dye. Boil oue hour.
the juice, and five more piutM of water. Clear it with a
little white of egg, let it be until cold, strain it, aud
bottle it.
MISCELLANEOUS.
Water-melon Sherbet. To "Wash Lawn and Mdslin. Delicate lawn and
A Bengal Recipe. Let the
muslin dresses are so frequently spoiled by bad washing,
melon be cut in half, and the inside of the fruit be worked
the colors of the fabrics yielding so readily to tbe action
up and raasbed with a spoon, till it assumes the con-
of soap, that it is better to adopt a method of cleaning
sistency of a thick pulp.Introduce into this as much
the finest materials, and imparting to them the appear-
pounded white candy or sugar as may suit your taste, a
ance of newness. Take two quarts of wheat bran, and
wineglassful of fresh rose-water, and two wineglasses
boil it an hour in soft water. Let it cool, then
for half
of sherry. Pour, when strained, the contents into ajug,
strain it, and pour the strained liquor into the water in
and fill your tumblers as often as needed. This makes
which the dress is to be washed. Use no soap. One
a very agreeable drink in summer.
rinsing alone is required, and no starch. The bran
water not only removes the dirt, and insures against
cliange of color, but gives the fabric a pleasanter stiff-
CONTRIBUTED RECEIPTS.
ness than any preparation of starch. If the folds are
Dear Mr. Godet: I have been a subscriber to your drawn from the skirts and sleeves, the dress will iron
Book and I consider it indispensable. If
fur four years, better and will appear, whoa prepared in this way, as
;

I am wearied with my domestic duties, I have only to fresh as new.

take up Godey, and it is soon forgotten as I turn its fas- Removing Grease Spots ottt of Silk. Take a lump of
cinating pages. I think its equal cannut be found. The magnesia, and rub it wet over the spot let it dry, then ;

engravings are peifectly exquisite, and it is a mystery brush the powder off, and the spot will disappear or, ;

to me how you can furnish and afford so much that is take a visiting card, separate it, and rub the spot with
both valuable and interesting in each number at the the soft internal part, and it will disappear without
price you ask for the work. taking the gloss off" the silk.
From an Old Subscriber.
How To Remove Mildew prom Linen. First of all
Here are some receipts which I know to be good, and take some soap (any common sort will do), and rub it
am must happy to furnish you with; well into the linen, then scrape some chalk very flue,
Frdit Cake, One pound of flour,
one pound of sugar, and rub tbat in also lay the linen on the grass, aud as
;

three-quarters of apound of butter, two pounds seeded it dries wet it agat^; twice or thrice doing will remove
raisins, two pounds of currants, one pound of citron, a the mildew stains.
quarter pound of almonds, half an ounce of mace, one All linen will turn yellow if kept long unused, locked

teaspoon saleratus, one wineglass of brandy, one ditto up in a linen press, excluded from air and light so the ;

of wine, ten eggs. Stir butter and sugar together to a best way that I have found of restoring it to its color, is
cream, add the whites aud yelks of the eggs beaten to expose it to the open air in nice dry weather. Expo-
separately to a froth, siir in the flour, then the wiue, sure to the light and continual airings will be found the
then brandy and spice. Add the saleraius and fruit just best way of preserving its whiteness. I kuow of none
before it is put in the oven ; it takes over two hours to other.
bake if baked in a milk-pan. Varnish for Rustic Garden Seats. First wash the

MocTNTAiN Cake. One pound of flour, one pound of woodwork with soap and water, and when dry do it
sugar, half a pound of butter, five eggs, one cup of milk, over, on a hot, sunny day, with common boiled linseed
saleratus, one gill of liquor. oil ; leave that to dry for a day or two, and then var-
nish it once or twice with what is commonly termed
Fair Cake. Five coflee cups flour, three of sugar,
" hard varnish." If well done, it will last for years,
two of butter, one of milk, one of yeast, five eggs, gill
and one-half of wine, one pound of raisins. Take milk, and will prevent any annoyance from insects.
and yeast, and one half of the materials, and stir them To Prevent Mites in Cheese. A cheese painted over
np, and let them stand over night; add the remainder with melted suet, so as to form a thin coat over the out-
in the morning, and bake. side, never has mites.
 iiitiirs' Sa&U.
WOMAN: feminine; qualities and graces his blessed Mother hai

BBR PI-ACE tV THE PLAN OP EEDKMPTIOX. possessed and commended.

Moreover, during all His ministry women drew His
" Ood seat forth bis Son made of a woman."
marked manifestations of confidence and sympathy.
Ix the woodorful mystery of Redemption, "two wholo Not only was His first miracle done at tho suggestion of
and perfect natures, that is to say, tho Godhead and a woman, but the two most wonderful miracles rai&ing
Blanhood, were joined together in one per-on, never to the dead to life, wcro both proofs of His deep sympathy
he divided ; whereof is ono Christ very God and very with their heart sorrows. And He trusted to ono of these
Man."* In this holy union of Divinity and llamanity, lowly and despised women His moat precious confi-
WoMAX was the medium between the two natures ; and dence, even the secret of His spiritual mission, which
also from her eubstauco the pure nature of the Man He had not revealed to his chosen disciples men who ;

Christ Jesus, with His perfect Mind, and Heart, and
Soul, as well aa all His perfection of bodilj organs, was
derived.
Are not these sacred truths, which all Christian men
believe and teach, proofs of the hi^'h moral destiny of
were to found His church on earth and bo Apostles of
His religion for the world, Christ had instructed these
men, bad sent them forth to do miracles and to preach
"The kingdom of heaven is at hand ;" still they thought
this reign was to be earthly and temporal there is no :

woman and of the paramount moral influence r>he was, record that they made a single convert to Cl)rist as the
by hor Creator, designed to wield over the race, not only Messiah. But when Jesus met the "woman of Samaria"
la the Redemption, but also in Eden? Remember Eve and had revealed to her His spiritual mission, she went
was not made from "the dust of the ground," as Adam her way and immediately taught that Ho was "?^
was, but from his flesh and bone that is, from living;

Christ" and "many believed on Him" from her testi-
materinl, which is surely more perfect than inert mat- mony. A woman understood him, and was the first
ter. True, their bodily elements, chemically tested, teacher of His doctrine of spiritual wovnhip.
wonld have boen found similar like diamond from car-
;
Take the whole example of Christ's life, does it not
bon, woman had been formed from out of man still the ;
show that perfect manhnod is manifested in the submis-
process, which refined her purity and beauty, did not sion of the human will to the Divine Will? that thus
alter this elemental identity; hence they were one in results the power comprehending truth and teaching
of
the flesh. Tet why was this record of the first human wisdom, of doing goud works, of becoming fit for the
pair given, if not to teach us that the wife was of finer kingdom of Heaven? Did not Christ, by His example
mould, destined to the purest moral and spiritual offices, as well as precepts, place Jove and duty inT vihove worldly
the bean and the soul of humanity, as the husband was understanding and physical power? And did nut the
the head and ihe hand ? women who heard His teachings show that, better than
After the Fall, when the Lord God revealed His pur- the men, they felt the truth and wisdom of His words,
pose of Redemption, was it not based on the moral na- believed in His divine mission, loved him as a personal
ture of woman and her Seed? "I will put enmity Saviour from sin and sorrow ia short, that wommihood
:

between thee and the woman:" when the Lord God
made Tempter or Satan, was
that declaration to the
there not assurance given that the woman had still the
disposition towards good which would be opposed to
evil in this world ? The conflict with sin was first to be
waged with her and by her. How could this be, unless
she wa^ then endowed with the germ of divine grace
which, unfolded by the breath of the Holy Spirit, would,
iu the fulness of time, be honored by "hor Seed" the
glorious Saviour, who " would put all His enemies un-
der His feet?"
The and character of Jesus Christ are conclusive
life
proofs that 111$ human origin was from the feminine
nature. All His manifestations of feeling and aflection,
of thought and reasoning are womanly. Examine the
doctrines He
taught, the duties and virtues Ho eufurced,
the examples He set where, in any of these, are tlie
had retained the Eden sympathy with perfect manhood,
which the men of earth had lost ?
Indeed, one of the most wonderful circumstances of
Christ's earthly ministry is sympathy with the femi-
nine nature, and the tenderness, devotion, and stead-
fastness with which He was loved, trusted, and wor-
shipped by all loomen. Not in a single instance did
Jesus find an enemy, or opposer in the sex. From His
first miracle women were faithful in their discipleship,
ministering to Him, welcoming Him to Jerusalem,
bringing their roost precious offerings, their "little
children" to His arms when men, His disciples, would
have thrust them away. When Christ's hour of trial
had come, the awful hour, when Satan and his seed
(devils and wicked men) were to have their triumph
and "bruise His heel" when all men seemed to spnrn
or to shun Him even then the Gentile woman, Pilate's
;

distinctive qnaUtie"} and talents men vaunt as proofs wife, plead His cause and as the rejected and condemned
;

of masculine greatness and glory? Phy.sical strength, Saviour was led up to Calvary to be crucified, "many
earthly hooor, worldly wisdom, even the gifts of intel- women" followed weeping and bewailing. He had been
lect and the acquirements of learning Jesus the Son of betrayed by one of His own chosen twelve all tho others
;

God, put all these down far, far beneath Iov, meekyie^g, fled from Hira, excepting the youngest, the most loving,
merci/, purity, patience, charity^ hnmilihj qaalities, the woman-like John. He and three faithful w<>men
grace?, and characteristics always considered peculiarly stood by the Crossand the wom^n followed to the se-
;

* See "Articles of Religion" of the Protestant Epis- pulchre, "/o see v:her He was laid;"' and went home
copal Church, etc. only to weep and work for Him, preparing "sweet
185

186 godey's lady's book and jiagazike.
spices" to do honor to their heloved dead, 'when the
Passover was ended.
How these faithful women were honored
met them at the sepulchre; the risen Saviour showed
Himself first to these feminine disciples
women He gave the first gospel mission, that of telling
(or teaching) the Apostles the great doctrine they
to preach to all the world that Christ
tne dead !
But why, women were thus good and gifted, and
if
faithful, in comparison with men, why was not the
public ministry of the (jospel committed to them ? That
such was not the will of God is sufficient answer to all
who truly believe His word; but the apparent reasons
are clear and cogent, and will be treated of in onr next
paper. Now we will briefly indicate the Gospel parallel
between the sexes.
Four pictures are sketched by the finger of Omnipo-
tence; four times the Son of God, during His life on
earth, judged between the man and the womau, brought
into close comparison beneath the eye of our Omniscient
Redeemer who could not err. Let us examine His
record of their characters and deeds.
A table is spread in the hospitable home of Simon the
Pharisee, and Jesus sits at the feast. The host, proud
of his guest and satisfied with his own display of hom-
age, is startled and shocked to see an outcast woman
dare to creep Into his respectable dwelling and throw
herself at the feet of Jesus. She, who was ouce the
flower of innocent beauty, is now a " sinner," cast out
and trampled down like a worthless wayside weed ;
while Simon the Pharisee, having means to give feasts
aud being a tnan, is honored and followed, as man will
be, and, whatever has been his own life, can look with
contempt and disgust on the poor, weeping Magdalen.
How he despises her as she, all uoconscious of his scorn,
is washing with her warm tears the feet of her beloved
Saviour; and, as she wipes them with her clustering
hair, what contriteJ^isses she presses on those blessed
feel that have brought to her breaking heart and blasted
hopes tbe tidings of salvation! The Pharisee cannot
comprehend her heart, and he questions in his own
mind whether Jesus is a true pi'ophet, because He does
not spurn her away.
"I have somewhat to say to thee, Simon," was the
Saviour's reply to the self-satisfied man's thought and
the Pharisee then learned tbe lesson, which lies at the
foundation of all true worship of the true God, that tfie
fove of the worshipper's heart is Vie homage roost accept-
able to Divine mercy: that this "perfect love," which
"casteth out fear," and all selfishness also, is tbe gift
which penitent woman brings to God in her humility
while man. in his pride of wealtli and of reason, seeks
to display his own right and power to judge of God's
ways and to guide his own.
Tbe story of that woman's love " for she loved much"
has brought thousands to the feet of the Saviour:
who was ever made better or happier by the Pharisee's
feast ? treasured for the circulating libraries of British novel-
The Temple is thronged. Priest and
and lawyer, and Phari>ee the noble, the honorable are
there for are not all the ambitious and respectable
; ing fund" of English literature, the Reviewer proposes
people of Jerusalem bringing their gifts to the Treasury
of the Lord? What large ofi'erings! every rich
man, as he casts in his gold, feels his heart swell with
pride and joy as he thinks of the great amount given,
and that his 7iame will be among the worthy and liberal
donors !
Unnoticed, as in the bright sunshine the nightingale
would be in an assemblage of eagles and rooks, of pea-
cocks and parrots, a pale, meek-eyed woman, in her
toil-worn raiment of the humblest life, is softly winuing
her way towards the table of costly offerings. She
brings her gift, richer than all the gold of Ophir. a heart
full of faith in "the widow's God;" and as the little
brown bird, unseen in day-time, makes night glorious
with his song of love, so, in the loneliness and darkness
of her earthly lot, this woman's /aiYA has sung its soug
of love, trust, and thankfulness to her Lord, till she can
bring " all that she had to His Treasury. '
We have the Saviour's testimony that this poor widow
gave "more than all the others." Her "two mites.
which make a farthing," offered in faith and receWing
God's blessing, have made her example the seed of
charities which have, from that day to this, sprung up
! Angels in the hearts of lowly Christians, blossoming and bear-
ing rich fruits for the true Church thus aiding the
;
: and to these spread of the blessed Gospel to the ends of the earth.
Again the Temple opens; not for gifts to God: the
were stern terrors of His violated Law are now to be invoked.
had risen from A guilty woman is brought before the Saviour. He is
told that "Moses in the Law commanded such to be
stoned ; but what sayest thou i"'
Did not that miserable woman feel there was hope of
mercy even for her, when she saw who was the Judge ?
Scribes, and Pharisees, and a crowd of honorable men
are waiting Christ's decision. Will He venture to con-
trovert the Law of Moses? Christ forgives sinners in
general, but will he dare set aside judgment on the
heinous sin which this woman has had proven against
her? And that throng of honorable men, how their
eyes flashed with joy as they anticipated a triumph over
the self-styled Son of God!
His reply (which tbe crowd loudly demanded)-^" He
that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone
at her"
sent that multitude of men like branded felons
from his presence; leaving the woman un condemned !
And Christ, who knew her wrongs, temptations, sor-
rows, and repentance for the poor, feeble, fallen woman
called Him "Lord," and submitted herself to His guid-
ancedid not condemn her, while condemning her sin.
In thus judging between the sexes, has not Christ given
His own record that men are the greatest sinners?
Once more at the feet of Jesus. The believing Mary
is there offering her sacrifice of love, faith, and adora-
tion
all included in the fervent ^^iV/y with which she
anointed " His head" and " His feet /"
As the "precious ointment" fills the room with its
sweet odor, do the chosen disciples, men who have fol-
lowed Him, and known, as they think. His will, feel
their minds in harmony with His, like the mind of this
loving woman? Do they not, even the holiest among
them, believe that "ointment" might have been " sold,"
and done more good in secular or charitable uses ? One
there certainly was the "thief," who "carried the bag,"
and coveted the worth of the ointment for his own
benefit. Not one of those men comprehended the feel-
ings and faith of Mary in her pious duty nor did they
;
understand that she, by that "costly incense," showed
forth the inestimable value of the gift of life and salva-
tion, which the death of Jesus Christ would confer on
all believers, and that the redeemed should bring their
best, their dearest treasures to His feet.
" She hath wrought a good work upon Men" was the
;
testimony of the blessed Saviour. What greater glory
can be given to a human deed ?
SENSATION NOVELS.
; Thr London Quarterly Review for April has a long
on this subject, cutting up, by
and well-written article
title, twenty-four of the latest of these English works.
The list shows that the best of these only have been re-
published in America the worst and silliest trash is
;
readers.
Levite, scribe,
As a preventive of still a " lower deep" in this " sink-
to resuscitate the novels of Scott and other writers of
How works being now obsolete. He says
his time, these :
"By way of experiment, we should like to see a
'Lending Libraiy' established, which should circulate
no books hut those which have received the stamp oft
time in testimony of their merits. Ko book should bo"
admitted under twenty years old a very liberal allow-
ance for the life of a modern novel, and which is long
enough to give rise to a new generation who could not
have read the book on its first coming out. A real
competition between old favorites and new would have
a good effect, not In destroying, which is not to be
wished, but in weeding the luxuriant produce of the
present day. The appetite, even of a novel-reader, has
its limits; and, if the best of the old books could be
brought in. the worst of the new must drop out to make
way for them."
We wish this plan could be tried in onr large cities.


HEALTH DEPABTMENT. 187

Valbdictoby Addrrss, to the Gradutding CUtss of tfte but Sloepoth" * Kate"" The Aged Luuatic" " Guard-
Fimale Mfdical College ^f Ptninsylvania, at tlu Eleventh ian "Love"' " Tho Dying Indian Girl"
Angels"
Annual Comirunicnne}it, Jfarch IWA, 1303. By Emmcliuo "My Favorite Flower" "Tribute of Kt?bpect" "The
]I CtevelaDd, M. B.
Beautiful Night" "The Broken Engagement'" "The
Mrs. Cleveland is at the Load of the Women's Hos*- Two Nellies"'" A Plain Story of Keal Life" " My
pit.tl of Pbiladelphln, and respected by all wlioliavetho Dream and what it taught me" {no other article needed at
privilejje of her acqtiaiutance, as ono of the '* honorable present) "My Theme*' "To E * * * *" and the other
wouieu," who are working forthecause of humuuiiy in poem (we are "Freedom'* "Ag-
obliged to decline)
t.'ie triu faith o/tlie Gijsjtel. This lady was educated for "The Lost and Found"
gravating Circumstances"
a uiiftsionary physician to her own sex the ill health of ; "My Fortune" "Song" " Going to Saratoga" "Tho
her husband, a Presbyterian clergyman, prevented them East Wind" and " Agnes Day."
from going abroad she then devoted herself to the Col-
;
" A Plain Story of Real Life." " The Broken Engage-
lege fjr women phytticians in thia city, aud when the moat." A letter seut to the author at Matoon, 111.
Women's Hospital was to be esliiblished, went to Paris,
and passed a year in the celebmted Hospital Maternity.
We can give only a short extract of her excellent and
beautiful address; but we hope any lady Interested iu
itiUtlj Sf|nu'tuirnt.
thOfte subjects will apply for copies of the Report on the 3Y JNO. 6TA1NBACK WILSON, M.D.
Hospital, and also for this Address, to Mrs. Clevetand,
Women's Hospital, North College Avenue, Tweuty-
Secoud St , Philadelphia. MrMPs. This is a coromoa affijction of children and
young a contagious inflammation of one
persons. It is
DCTIB3 OP THE PHTSICIA.V.
or both the glands beneath the ear, called the parotid
''The physician should be alike impartial to the rich glands.
and the puor, lavishing his attentions upon the most
tick and the most unfortunate, and never refusing his Si/m])toms. Slight feverishness, with stiffness of the
Care, in an urgent case, to a fellow-moilal, however un- jaws, and redness, soreness, and swelliag of one or both

worthy be he a personal euemy, the enemy of one's of the above glands.
country or of humanity, or to whatever extent degraded
by debauchery and crime. Trentmt^nt.
A mild laxative of Epsom salts if the
Perhaps, in a moral sense, this forgetfulness of social bowels aro costive the warm bath or warm wet-sheet
;

distinctions, and this self-abuegatiou ii more especially

pack warm sweating teas of sage, balm, etc. or cold
required of women who would make themselves minis-
; ;

lers of good to thoir kind. The duties of the physician water, if there is much fever. As local applications to
are not limited to the relief of the physical sufferings of the throat, it is the custom to use all kinds of stimulating
his patients, and wheu we remember the low estate of
liniments, poultices, and plasters, under the idea that
women in mental culture and a:(ainmeut>, the mauifold
hindrances which place tliemseives iu her pathway the disease may be driven off to some other part. But
toward excellence in any department, and the scorn the danger from this source is much exaggerated, and
with which an erring daughter of Eve is continually re-
there is no good reason to believe that cold applications
minded of her fault, and plunged deeper in ruin' we
cannot but regard it as one of the distinctive missions of have any tendency to cause translation of the disea-e.
the woman physician, in giving her portion totbedefei.co We have no hesitation, therefore, in recommending cold
of the public health, thai she spare no etfort for the in-
wet cloths to the throat, where there is considerable
fitructioQ and elevation of woman, especially that bhe
endeavor to diffuse correct hygienic notions, and to in- fever and local inflammation. Should the inflammation
culc.'.te those moral precepin frum which one may not be slight, a fijinuel bound around the throat will be all-
depart without danger to health and life."
sufficient. Wheu the inflammation runs high, the wet
cloths should be frequently changed, and exposed to
Pm-tos. A parlor without a piano seems like a greet- the air, so that the cooling process of evaporation may
ing without a smile. aiu>ic in the family always in- go on freely. But when the inflammation is more mod-
cludes the idea of cheorfuluess at home; and also a erate, a towol, three or four double, should bo dipped in
resource, when one is not cheerful, which will supply water, applied over the affected part, and then a dry
(he pl.ice of pleasant conversation. Therefore, we like binder should be placed over the towel. This acts as a
to aid our friends in their efforts to obtain good iustru- warm poultice, and promotes perspiration of the skin
inents, and in reply to several inquiries, we commend to which it is applied, while it is far superior in comfort,

the pianos of Messrs. Boardman & Gray (AlhaTiy, N, Y.), cleanliness,and convenience to any kind of poultice or
as excellent. These instruments are celebrated for their plaster. The diet of a patient with mumps should be
fine tone and beautiful finish. Ladies who have small light and unstimulating, and exposure to cold should

parlors will find the cottage style very convenient and be avoided for some time after the subsidence of the
ornamental ; and, moreover, reasonable in price. The disease.
large pianos are magnificent. Our friends cannot fail of
C0SSTITCT10N8 CREATED.
being suited to their taste and means. We cannot enter
who T.I we must take good
build up a good constitution,
into particulars, but those aro interested may easily
obtain all needed information from their circulars.
care of what we have, and add to it, by pretty hard
work and moderate thought, until the age of forty-five
Address Siberia Ott, agent for Boardman & Gray, 726
;

Broadway, liew York. then, there should be )oss work and more thought.
Bodily labor consolidates the constitution up to forty-
five; then, mental labor preserves it, keeps it good to
To ora Corbespo.'sde^ts. The following articles are tlie verge of fourscore years, if the bodily activities are
accepted ;

" The Soldier's Dream" ** My first Venture"' very moderate. As witness Hnmboldt, who was a great

" Dreamland" " The Faded Flower'" Friendships traveller in early life; but from fifty to ninety a great
Whisper." student. Many similar instances will occur to intolli-
These articles are declined we are not able to accept
; geut minds. The general idea is of grcut practical im-
some that we like for want of room. "She is not Dead, portance. Work hard nnti! forly-flve think hard after,
;

VOL. LXVIi.-^16


188 godey's lady's book and magazine.

aad all the while, be "temperate in all things." This proclivities of a little cathedral city are made the espe-
is to live long. Dr. Hall. cialtheme; and the exclusiveness and self i-igliteous-
ness of Mrs. Archdeacon Scrymgeour, who might be
called a representative woman of her class, are brought

fiterarg Uolir^s. into strung contrast with

Amiel Grey.
the loving charity of &Irs.
Miss Alice Grey, the heroine, is a very
pleasing little lady, without any particularly striking

O^iNQ to the immense increase in the price traits.

of books,
we will not receive further orders to seud by mail. It
THE FAIRY BOOK. By the author of " John Hali-
never was a source of profit to us, but generally a loss,
fax, Gentleman," The stories of "Cinderella,"
etc.

on account of the postage we had to pay. "Jack the Giant-Killer," "Puss in Boots," etc.; will find
interested readers and listeners among the little folks to
the latest generation. Nor do we think we nei d say
From Peterson & Bhotsees, Philadelphia: they will prove additionally attractive in the garb which.
THE INITIALS. A Story of Modtrn Life. We are Miss Mulock has provided for them. The book contains
glad to see a new charming and ex-
edition of this most thirty-five of the best popular fairy stories.
cellent work by the Baroness Tautphoeus. The public XENOPHONTIS ANABASIS. Receu-uit J. F. Mac-
are already too familiar with the work to need any ex- michael, A. B. This book belongs to Harper's superior
tended description of it. Therefore it will suffice us to series of Greek and Latin Texts.
say that as a picture of domestic life in Germany it is HARPER'S PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE GREAT
most entertaining, and, we believe, truthful. REBELLION. Nos. 3 aud 4 have been received. Piice
THE CONSCRIPT. A By Alexander
Tale of War. only 2o cents per number. There must be an immensej
Dumas, author of " The Count of Monte Cristo," " The sale to pay the expense of getting up this work. It ;

Three Guardsmen," etc. etc. Dumas has gone'but of his splendidly illustrated.
usual track in the writing of this book. It is free from
many of the faults of the majority of his works, and a
book we can recommend without reservation. It is From D. Appleton & Co., New York, through W. P.

pastoral in its chaiacter, and its moral tone is good.
From J. B. Lippincott k Co., Philadelphia:
Hazard, Philadelphia:
TWO PICTURES; or, TlTiat loe Thhik of Ourselvea^
andwhdi the. World Thinks of Us. By M. J. Mcintosh, au-
thor of "Two Lives or, to Seem and to Be ;" " Charmi
;

AT ODDS. By the Baroness Tautphteus*, author of
"Quits," "The Initials," etc. This, we believe, is a
new work by that charming writer, the Baroness Taut-
pliosus. As a delineator of German life and German
character she is not excelled. The scene is laid in Ba-
varia, and the time a half century since, when Napoleon
was first Consul of France, and Bavaria and Tyrol were
the theatres of various military operations. Interwoven
with the story is an interesting account of the Tyroleaa
revolution.
and Counter Charms," etc. An excellently writte;
story, the aim of which is to show the vast influence for^
good which the Southern planter may exert over his
dependents. Hugh Moray, the hero of the book, is a
noble man, and his schemes for the amelioration of th)
condition of his slaves truly commendable.
EVIDENCE AS TO MAN^S PLACE IN NATURE. B;
Thomas H. Huxley, F. R. S., F. L. S Professor of Natu-]
ral Hifttoiyin the Jcrmyn
,

Street School of Mines.

Huxley brings forward a long mooted question as to
Mr.
I
whether man as an animal is identified with the same
From Harper & Brothers, Kew York, throngh J. B. Order to which belong Apes. This by a course of rea-
& Co., Philadelphia:
Lippi.vcOTT soning, sustained by much physiological evidence, ha
A HISTORY OP THE INTELLECTUAL DEVELOP- decides in the affirmative. He says: "Our reverence
MENT OF EUROPE. By John William Draper, 51. D., for the nobility of manhood by the
will not be lessened
LL. D., Professor of Chemistry and Physiology in the knowlediie, that man is, and in structure,
in substance
University of New York author of a " Treatise on Hu-
; one with the brutes ;" and that we must look to his in-
man Physiology, etc. This is a large volume of over
'
tellectual aud moral faculties to account for the vast
six huDored pages, in which its author makes a minute, difference which separates them.
careful, and comprehensive examination of his subject. LECTURES ON THE SYMBOLIC CHARACTER OP
Ilis introductory chapter argues the abvolnte effect of THE SACKED SCRIPTURES. By Rev. Abiel Silver,
temperature and geography upon the. physical and in- Minister of the New Jerusalem Church in New York.
tellectual development of man. He then turns to Greece The snbjfct of these lectures is one which Swedeuborg
as presenting the earliest evidence of intellectual pro- loved particularly to dilate upon, as those familiar with,
gress ; and, beginning withwhat can be deducted from his writings well know. This symbolic character,
tradition and mythology, traces civilization up to the which, if it be correct, places xipon the Scriptures the
highest degree represented by that nation. The intel- is certainly very beautiful in
indelible stamp of trntli,
lectual progress of both Greece and Europe he divides theory. These lectures, now gathered in book form,
into five periods, namely: The Age of Credulity; the were designed as simple and plain lessons of instruction
Age of Inquiry the Age of Faith. the Age of Reason
; ;
; to those unacquainted with the Science of Correspon-
and the Age of Decrepitude; premising, however, tliat dences.
Europe at the present time is in the fourth degree of pro- MONEY. By Charles Moran. As next to war and
gress. He reviews hit^toiyaud religion from his own politics, the subject of finances most occupies the public
stand-point; and tliough opinions may difler in regard miud, this book will not come inopportunely. It opens
to many of his conclusions, all who give him their atten- with a brief history of money from the earliest times,
tion will be convinced of the learningand ability which and in the course of its pages gives a description of the
have aided him in the production of this work. financial systems of Eugland, France, and the United
ST. OLAVE'S. Ay<jcd. In this story the aristocratic States.
 LITERARY NOTICES. 189

TUB CRISIS. This pumphlct will find many attentive a Camp,'' etc. etc. There is a beautiful steel engraving
I
readers amoa^; polUiciuus. It gven over the jtrounds of of Winthrop, copied from a crayon likeness, fronting the
oar present ualioual dlfllcuUiort froDi their conimouco- title- jmgo.
I

ment, aud Is stroDglj Slate Kit;ht8 in character. LILIAN. We are half pleased, half displeased with
this book. The and wo
plot is poetic in tho extreme,
sometimes feel tempted to regard It as auextiuisite prose-
From Carletox, "Sow York, through Peteesos &
poem. Again, the short sentences, and construction,
Brotiikk^, Philiidplphiii:
half French, yet lacking the French Jirtivett, weary one
FRAXK WARRINGTON. By the author of "Rut-
from their tameuess. Yet this fault is more pvident iu
ledifo," and "Tht> SiuherlHuds." This uukuown author
the first pages of the book than In succeeding ones. The
is certHin to make a ODation whenever ^ho appears be-
episode of the danseuse is touching the description of ;

fore the puhlic. With the prestige of her former success,

Lilian's lifu in Italy beautiful and highly imaginative ;

thlt, her last production, has a sure j>a:sport to popu-

while there is somothing almost sublime in the picture
larity. To add to its interest it is a story of to-day ; the
of the gieat grief that came upon her, and her resigna-
first word of the book is " enlieted/* and its masculino
tion to the will of Ood.
obaractoi ate soldiers.
GOOD THOUGHTS IN BAD TIMES, and other Papers.
MAKIAX GREY; or, T/if H<iire$8 of Redstone Unll.
By Thomas Fuller, 1). D. Tins is a reprint of an excel-
By Mary J. Holmes, author of "Lena Rivers,'*
Mrs.
lent work by a most excellent man. The general divi-
"Tempest and Suushine," etc. This story is about a
sion of its contents is: " Good Thoughts in Bad Times,"
youog wife who, on diwcovering that her husband had
"Good Thoughts in Worse Times," "Mixed Contempla-
married her un willingly, iu compliauco with his
tions in Better Times," aud " The Causo and Cure of a
bther's dying reque^tt, dimippears from licr homo aud ;
Wounded Conscience." These are again divided into
despite of all her huhbaud's efforts to find her, remains
"Personal Meditations," " Scriptural Observations,'*
absent for a number of years. However, when time
"Historical Applications," etc. etc. The publishers
has perfected both physiral and mental graces, sho
have brought out this volume now, because there Is
returns unrecognized in the capacity of a governess, and
-In accordance witli her strongest dofsires, the former in-
much iu it relevact to the present disturbed state of our
country.
different husband becomes her lover, and "they live
happily ever after."
THE GENTLEMAN. By George H. Calvert. A pleas-
ing and profitable book, iu which the Gentleman is pre-
INCIDKXTS KV MY LIFE. By D. D. Home. With
sented in all his phases, including tho ancient gentle-
an Introduction by Judge Edmonds. All hare heard of
Home, who during the past few years has kej>t np such
man of refined Greece and Rome, the rather barbarous
specimen of early Irish history, with those who claim
an interest in Europe in the so-called spiritual mauifes-
tations. Foreign correspondents have, from time to
the name at the procient day. Many individuals are
cited as examples of true gentlemen, among whom are
time, famished us with on dUs concerning his where-
abouts and doings. The book before us is a personal
named Sir Philip Sidney, Charles Lamb, and Washing-
ton while the first " gentleman in Europe" is declared to
narrative, we must confess very modestly written of his
;

have been "the commonest metal, glaringly painted,

life both in this country and abroad, and a description
gorgeously gilt;" and Napoleon I. is set down as a
of the phenomena which have made his name so wcll-
" sublime snob." The style of this book is easy and at-
kaown. As his book has already found extensive sale
tractive, and no one can peruse it without a higher esti-
In England, and as he himself has been received cordi-
mate of the true gentleman.
ally among the highest social classes throughout Europe,
and has even connected himself by marriage with a
THESTORYOFTHEGUARD: A Chronicle of the War.
noble Russian family, we can safely say that readers
By Jes^io Benton Fremont. Tho immense demand for
this book, especially among the soldiers, has induced
trill not be lacking here for so remarkable a work.
the publishers to issue what they term a " Knapsack
edition, "in a chiap form, to bring it more easily within
From Dick & Fitzoerald, ^*ew York, through W. P. the reach of all who may desire it.

Hazard, Philadelphia:
TUB DEVOUT Cni-RCHMAN'S COJfPANION; or, a
fbWi/ul Guide in Prai/er, }f'dHatinn^ and
From T. 0. H. P. Burnham, Boston, through J. B.
the Reception
LiPPiNcoTT & do., Philadelphia :

<tf thf. HoJif En^hnrVtt. Edited by Rev. W. H. Odcu-

heinier, A. M,, Kectorof St. Peter's Church, Philadelphia,
THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN JOHN
"Young Churchman DANGEROUS. A narrative in plain English, attempted
author of Catechized,"' "The True
by George Augustus Sala. Mr. Sala has evidently made
Catholic no Romanist," etc. This is a beantiful devo-
use of historic researches to place before the public a
tional book, which cannot fail to meet the approbation
picture of society, its ideas, manners, and habit-*, at a
of every one in the Episcopal commuuiou.
period more than a century remote from the present. If

the sUUcments of the notable Cuptain Dangerous may be

From TtcKxOR &FrEi.r>s, Boston, throngb T. B, Petee- relied upon, the world has made considerable progress
ao:fk BrtoTHRBS, Philadelphia: in civilization since then, the contemplation of which
LIFE IN THE OPEN AIR, and other Papers. By fact ought to silence those who are continually regret-
Theodore Winihrop. author of "Cecil Dreeme," "John ting the "good old times." This narrative, which does
Brent," etc. This is the last which the public will re- not aspire to having a plot, and reads as a simple auto-
ceive of Wiuthrop's writings. They are ju^t as fresh, biography, is most amusing.
and chararterized by the same racinoss and abandon as
his previous work. The "Other Papers'* form (he AMERICAN PUBLISHERS' CIRCULAR AND LITER-
larger portion of the volume, and compriKe a humorous ARY GAZETTE, No. 2. We have received No. 2 of this
sketch, entitled " Love aud Skates," " New York Seventh invaluable work from the publisher, George W. Childs,
Bcfjimont Our March to Wasbiuglon, " "Washington as 62S aud 630 Chestnut Street.
 ;

190 godey's lady's book and magazine.

We publish the following with great pleasure. Misj

ohp S,nn-Cj)air.
Anna Dickenson is well known to our readers as thj
E.

able lecturer and patriotic woman :

Mr. L. a. Godet I thought, perhaps, you might wish'
GoDET FOR AuntTST. Our engraving this month is one to have a copy of some lines written by Miss Anna E.

that win call to the mind of all the heautifnl prayer of Dickenson some years ago. We are intimate with the
our religion. Some time since, we published "Our family, having known Anna when she was quite young,
Father who art in Heaven ;" this is " Hallowed be ihy when she brought the poetry to our house. It was
name." Read the admirable illustration by the Rev. H. written on witnessing the funeral of Dr. Kane. I there-
Hastings Weld. fore send it to you. Respectfully yours, E. A.

Our FashioD-plate contains six beantiftil colored and

LINES,
seasonable figures. We pride ourselves upon thus giv-
ing the fashions of the mouths correctly engraved and WRITTEN ON WITNESSING DU. KANe'S FUNERAL.
beautifully colored. 'Trs a solemn scene ; the mournful words
"A Sudden Shower" just as echool is dismissed; Ave slowly, sadly said,
giving juvenile gallantry an opportunity of displaying And sobs break forth, the tear-drops fall
itself. O'er the loved and early dead.
"We give in this number two more fashions from the
renowned establishmeut of Messrs. A. T. Stewart & Co., The organ rolls its music deep,
of New York. Remember, no other magazine has these And the anthem graud is sung
fashions. We also give two entirely new styles of
And falls like dew the earnest prayer
dresses, in addition, just received by the last arrival
On hearts with anguish wrung.
from Paris. More, also, of the newest styles of head- Now lift the form and bear it forth
dresses will be found in the August number; and an Through the surging, living wave,
infinite variety of everything in the way of fashions Through the city's diu and ceaseless hum,
and articles for the work-table, that will be pleasing to To the calm and quiet grave.
II
our lady subscribers.
Now lay your burden gently down,
Throw the cold earth on his breast.
Our Cartes de Visite. The orders coming in, daily,
Give a lingering, longing look behind
f'r these charming portraits and pictures ai*e very large,
Then leave him to his rest.
and still increasing. We have already supplied our
friends with many thousands, and in all cases, so far as but his name shall bo
'Tis the last of earth !

we have learned, the satisfaction has been complete. No Embalmed in the nation's heart.
fiuer photographs are made. Our list now embraces And the works he wrought, and the fame he won,
over five hundred subjects. Catalogues sent free. We Sball be of himself a part.
send S cartes for $1, and 20 for $2, post-paid.
And though years roll by in their ceaseless flight,

*
And centuries wan and wane.
Mr. Godet. Allow me you the high
to express to As a sweet and loving household word
estimate in which I hold your Book.
Of eight periodi- Shall be kept the name of Kane.
cals, "War Times" have compelled mo to drop all but Miss Anna E. Dickenson.
that that I Taunt have, it is economy to have it. With
;

its assistance, I am Dressmaker, Milliner, Drawing-

How TO Color the Photooraph. Messrs. J, E. Til-
master, and Compendium of general information for the
ton & Co., Boston, have just published a little manual
family upon any subject. I can refer to it, assured that
on the art of painting the photograph, which is for sal
I shall there find just what is wanted.
at the bookstores, or will be sent by them, post-paid,
Not long since an employee of the Government applied
for 10 cents.
to me for some information relative to the South, which
The same publishers are about publishing a capital
present circumstances prevented him from readily ob-
story for the boys,by the author of " Father Bright-
taining. My Lady's Book afforded me the necessary
hopes." It is to be called "The Drummer Boy," and is
details at once.
a true historical account of " The Burnside Expedition."
So often have I received valnahle suggestions from
It will be illustrated by 0. C. Darley, and issued in
''.

I am quite inclined to contribute an item or

others, th.it
the Messrs. Tilton's well-known attractive style.
two which I have not nolicrd in it, and which may
benefit some one. The " method of preserving fruit" I
WnAT OUR Fashion Editor can Supply. Address
have tested for several years, with unvarying success.
Fashion Editor, care L. A. Godey, Philadelphia. Mrs.
The others, when " weighed in the balance will not be
Hale is not the fashion editress.
found wanting."
Hair- work, patterns for all kinds of garments, and for
With best wishes for your continued success, T am re-
women and children, jewelry, caps, bonnets, cloaks,
spectfully yours. Mrs. C. H. M. N.
mantillas, talmas, mantles, headdresses, shawls, bead-
These receipts are published elsewhere.
work, materials for wax and
paper flowers, embroidery,
collars, capes, worsteds, Shetland wool, infants' ward-
That unfortunate gentleman, who hinted In our Feb- robes or patterns for the same, stamped collars, ornd
ruary number what qualifications he wanted in a wife, halls, canvas for working, etc. etc.
wonld hardly like to see the hundred answers we have
received, and to which we cannot give place, with one Longfellow beautifully says that "Sunday is the
or two exceptions. He would be overwhelmed with the golden clasp that binds together tho volume of the
indignation he has excited. week."
 gobet's arm-chaib. 191

Dear Mb. Gopev We hnve been grievously dleap- OUR MUSICAL COLUMN.
that the commanicatioa from a bacholor, la the
|olDto<l

February namber, uhoald have received no attontioa

The Mttsical Monthly. Our thanks are due to onr
friends everywhere for the hearty support thus far
f^om the fair reitdcru of " The Book ;"and are, therefore,
given to onr new periodical. From every quarter wo
somewhat incltned to believe it ts ordered that we ehould
hear nothing but the most unqualified encomium la-
Uke the matter ia hand oarself, particnlarly as by so
vished upon it, and we are in constant receipt of the
doiof^ wo tihaLl be ODabled to "kill two birds with one
most substantial kind of proof that our attempt to popn-

Btone" ajt It has long been onr ioteutioa to write Mr.
larize first class piano music so as to bring it within
Qodey, aud express, or attempt to express somethtug of
reach of all has been entirely successful. Bnt three
the ploasare we experience in conning over the pages of
numbers have been published and delivered, yet the
biH estimable magaxine.
Monthly has already received sulBcient subscriptions to
AVe do not think of Mr. Godey aa a stranger, bnt
guarantee its faithful and regular publication no matter
always as a friend ; and seldom take up the book with-
what contingency may ari?e. This for a new periodical,
onl a grateful feeling arising toward him for bis untir-
which was viewed as au expeiiment.as nothing similar
ing efl'urts in behalf of ns ladies. A good book is a
in kind had ever before been published, is wonderful.
great gift4ud certainly the maker of snch shoald rank
The fourth aud fifth numbers, which aro now ready,
one of mankind's " great benefactors" (ergo, Mr. Godey
contain several beautiful compositions by Brinley Ri-
1b ). When solitary aud dispirited, it has been both
chards, Fritz Spiudler, and other well known compo-
oompanion and friend bnt as a panacea for home sick-
;

sers. The fourth number also contains a new ballad.

ness we can tei^tify that the Lady's Book "bears the
Among the Roses, by the author of At the Gale, the song
bell/* But, we do protest agaiubC ita usurping the
which was so popular in the first number. The brilliant
place of "Heaven's last best gift to man" as the arm- and beautiful romance, Warblings at Eve, by Brinley

chair informs a certain bachelor has so long alluwed
Richards, ia given in the fifth number at the special
.U. We admit, however, to feeling somewhat' mollified
request of many subscribers. This piece in the music
that Joe llijpkins* recent trausformulion from a gay
stores costs more than the price of the entire number,
bachelor to a happy Benedict should have brought Joe's
yet two other pieces are given, one of them a beautiful
friend to a proper sense of his unhappy condition and
well, "to make a long story short," we confess we
song, We
Met and Talked of Other Days, by James M.
Stewart. Theterms of the Monthly are^3 OOperannnm,
wore charmed with the letter, and have not the slightest
inadvance; four copie3$10 00; single numbers oOcents.
doubt that one who has so admirably portrayed the
The work is not for sale at any music store, and sub-
offices of a good wife (and knows how to appreciate the
scriptions must be inclosed to the publisher, J. Starr
Lady's Book into the bargain) could be otherwise than
Hollowly, Box Post Office, Philadelphia.
a modei husband. Not that we wish it to be understood
that we could consider oar individal sti/the one kind

Neio Shed Mtisic. The new and enterprising publish-
ing firm of Sawyer & Thompson, Brooklyn, have issued
Heaven has fasUioued in ausveer to his pathetic appeal,
several new and beautiful piano songs. When This
but if we could receive, now and then, from our friend
Cruel war is Over, or Weeping Sad and Lonely Who
a letter, such as we feel assured he could write, Vf9
;

will Care for Mother, now ? and my Emma Louise are ;

tthould not be^uugratefnl.
three songs either one of which will prove, how far a cer-
Hoping Mr. Godey will accept beat wishes in regard to
tain adaptablity of words to music, and the whole to
health and prosperity. We remain,
the popular taste, united with tact and enterprise on the
Always a Friend.
part of the publisher, will certainly secure a signal
success. The first song has already attained the enor-
QrEE:( TicTOBiA axd the Princess op Wales, a piece mous circulation of seventy-five thousand copies; the
of court gossip :
" Of conrse the charming young Dane second is almost as popular ; and the third is only less
Is a Princess born, bnt still of a modest audcompara- 60 because it is The words
the most recently published.
tively humble bouse. I am told that, like Penelope, bhe of all these songs are by Chas. Carroll Sawyer, who, in
Is not unaccustomed to embroidery, and that she is their construction, has exhibited a singularly intelligent
rather proad, indeed, of her cleverness with her needle. appreciation of the public taste. Call Me not Back from
There are many
well authenticated stories of the sim- the Ecboless Shore, another of Mr. Sawyer's popular
is
plicity of manners at oar pure and well-ordered Court, Bongs, and the best reply yet published to the famous
but what would Mrs, Grundy say if slie were assured on ballad, Rock Me to Sleep, Mother. The music of two of
young Princess ac-
indubitable authority that a certain these songs is by Henry Tucker, author of Beautiful
tually offered, in a playful show a proof of her
mood, to Star. Father, Breathe an Evening Blessing, and Hear our
taste and nimbleness of finger by newly trimming the Prayer, are two beautiful sacred compositions, the first
bonnet of a Queen regnant ? When, after much entreaty a solo and quartette, the other a trio, with piano or
aad a great deal of laaghing, the desired permission has organ accompaniment. Price of each of the above 25
been given, the ladies in waiting, it seems, remark that cents. The same publishers issne a flue arrangement of
the chiip(ixi when it is brought back is much lighter and When this Cruel War is Over, -with variations by Grobe.
more cheerful looking than before. Their quick eyes Price 50 cents.
soon discover that it has been divested of a great deal of We will purchase for onr friends any of the above;
crape. Perhaps a certain royal personage made the and can also supply the following new songs and pieces.
same discovery. Perhaps the yonng Princess stood Magdalena, brilliant fantaisi^, by the author of The
timid and trembling, wondering whether the loving Maiden's Prayer, 40 cents. Marche Militaire, very flne,j
taint would be kindly taken. A little bird has whis- by Glover, 30. An Alpine Farewell, nocturne by Richei
pered that after a momentary sigh she received a hearty 2.5. Lily Leaf Polka Schottische, 10. Warblings at Eve,
and affectionate kiss, and that several pairs of loving fine editionwith colored cover.s, 3.5. We Met and Talked
eyes, by a not nnnatoral coincidence, brimmed and ran of Other Days, beautiful song, by J. 31. Stewart, 2.^. I can-
over at the same moment.** not Mind my Wheel. Mother, by Liuley, 25. Address the
16* Musical Editor, at Philadelphia, J. Starr HoLLOWAr.
 a
;

192 godet's lady's book and magazine.

THE HABILIMENTS OF GRIEF. FROM A COMMER- well, however, with our sudden bereavement silk
CIAL POINT OF VIEW. leading article and our distraction trimmings."
" I fear," said I, " my commission says nothing about
On the occasion of a recent visit to London, whilst I
these novelties."
was debating with myself over the breakfast things as
" Ladies in the country," he blandly replied, " don't
to how I should spend the day, I rocpived by the post a
know of the perfection to which the v.vt of mourning
letter deeply bordered with black, evidently a messenger
genteelly has been brought! But I will see that your
of aftiiction. I weeping willow npon a
tore the white
commission is attended to to the letter." Giving another
black background which formed the device upon the
glance over my list, he observed: "Oh! I perceive a
seal, and read the contents. It proved to he an intima-
widow's cap is mentioned here. I must trouble you,
tion from a relative of the sudden death of her brother-
sir, to proceed to the Weeds Department for that article
in-law, and a request that under the circumstance of the
sudden bereavement of the widow, I should undertake
the first turning to the left."

certain sad commissions relative to the articles of mourn-
ing required by the family.
I at once set out npon my sad errand. I had no
difficulty in finding tho rnaison de deuil to which I had
been referred. It met me in the sad habiliments of woe ;
no vulgar colors glared from the shop-window.'i, no
gilding amazed with its festive brightness. The name
of the firm scarce presumed to make itself seen in letters
of the saddest gray upon a black ground. Here and
there beads of white set off the general gloora of the
house-front, like the crape pipings of a widow's cap.
Proceeding, as directed, I came to a recess fitted up
with a solid phalanx of widows' caps. I perceived at a
glance that they exhausted the whole gamut of grief,
from its deepest shade to that tone which is expressive
of a pleasing melancholy. The foremo.st row confronted
me with the sad liveries of crapen folds, whilst those
behind gradually faded off into light, ethereal tarletan,
and one or two of the outsiders were even breaking out
into worldly feathers and flaunting weepers. Forgetting
the proprieties of the moment, I inquired of the grave
attendant if one of the latter would be suitable.

The very metal window-frames and plates had gono "Oh! no, sir," she replied, with a slight shade of
into a decorous mourning zinc taking the place of severity in the tone of her voice; "you may gradually
what we ft'el under the circumstances would have been work up to that in a year or two. But any of these"
quite out of character brass. pointing to the first row of widows's weeds "are
On my pushing gave way with
the plate-glass door it suitable for the first burst of grief."
a hushed and nuiffled sound, and I was met by a gentle- Acquiescing in the propriety of this sliding scale of
man of sad expression, who, in the most sympathetic sorrow, I selected some weeds expressive of tho deepest
voice, inquired tho nature of my want, and, on my ex- dejection I could find, and, having completed my com-
plaining myself, directed me to tlie Inconsolable Grief mission, inquired where I could procure for myself
Department. Tho interior of the establishment answered some lavender gloves.
exactly to the appearance without. The long passage "Oh ! for those things, sir," she said, in tho voice of
I had to traverse was panelled in w hite-black borderings, Tragedy speaking to Comedy, "you must turn to your
like so many monrning-cards placed on end ; and I was right, and you will come to the Complimentary Mourn-
rapidly becoming impressed with the deep solemnity of ing counter."
the place, when
caught sight of a neat little figure
I Turning to the right accordingly, T was surprised, and
rolling up some ribbon who, on my inquiring if I had
; not a little shocked, to find myself amongst worldly
arrived at tho Inconsolable Grief Department, replied, colors. Tender lavender I had expected but violet, ;

almost in a tone of gayety, that that was the half-mourn- mauve, and even absolute red, stared me in the fac-e.
ing counter, and that I must proceed further on until I Thinking I had made a mistake, I was about to retire,
had passed the repository for widows' silk. Following when a young lady, in a cheerful tone of voice, inquired
her directions, I at last reached my destination a largo if I wanted anything in her department.

room draped in black, with a bushed atmosphere about "I was looking for the Complimentary Mourning
it as though somebody was lying invisibly therein state. counter," I replied, "for some gloves but I fear I am ;

An attendant in sable habiliments, picked out with wrong."

the inevitable white tie, and with an undertakerish eye "You are quite right, sir," sho observed. "This is
and manner, awaited my commands. I produced my it."She saw my eye glance at tho cheerful-colored
written directions. Scanning it critically, he said : and with the instinctive tact of a woman guessed
silks,
" Permit me to inquire, sir, if if is a deceased partner ?" my thoughts in a moment.
I nodded assent. "Mauve, sir, is very appropriate for the lighter sor-
*'We take the liberty of asking this distressing ques- rows."
tion," he continued, "as we are extremely anxious to " But absolute red !" I retorted, pointing to some
keep up the character of our establishment by matching, velvet of that color.
as it were, the exact shade of affliction. Our paramatta *'
Is quite when you mourn the departure
admissible
and crapes give satisfaction to the deepest woe. Permit of a distant relative. But allow me to show you some
me to show you a new texture of surpassing beauty and gloves?" and, suiting the action to the word, she lifted
elegance, manufactured specially for thia house, and the cover from a tasteful glovebox, and displayed a per-
which we call the inconsohihle. Quite a novelty in the fect picture of delicate half-tones, indicative of a struggle
trade, I do assure you, sir." between the cheerful and the sad.
With this ho placed a pasteboard box before me full "There is a pleasing melancholy in this shade of
<f mourning fabrics. gray," she remarked, indenting slightly each enter
"Is this it?" I inquired, lifting a lugubrious piece of knuckle with the soft elastic kid as she measured my
drapery, hand.
"Oh, no," he replied "the one yoa have in your
;
" Can you find a lavender?"
hand was manufactured for last year's affliction, and "Oh yes! bnt the sorrow tint is very slight in that
was termed The Stunning Blow Shade.* It makes up
'
however, it wears admirably."


godey's xrm-chair. 193

Thus by <I(>groet the gri^f of the establishment dleU

THE UNFORTUNATE MUSIC SCHOLAR.
nut in tendt'i-est lavcDder, aad I took my departure,
.'<*ply with the cbarroiug improvemcDta
lDiprcited
BT URd. J. X. PAOK.
which ParUiau tanto has clTected iu the plaiu old^fash- "The ground is all covered with ice and slcct, Caro,*'

.'jaed st/le of English mouroing. L. B. said her sister Bell; "do comeback and
your rub- get
bers before you undertake to cross the street I"
The First Newspaper. The first pnhUshod, says "But I am so late. Bell, and you know I was tardy
'!<ilignani, bearn the date of Xoremborj^', N.^7 the first
the last time I took a mn-ic lesson, and such a scolding
;

i^Qglih one wa<4 hi IH-i'J; and the first French la HiSX, as I got, I never wish to hear again. I believo I '11 trust

A very aiiciout priutcd nhcot was offered for sale id tho my old friends Caro and Good Luck for a ^iife footing.'*

and of wtiirh a duplicate exists in tho

Libri collection, So taking Bertioi's large instruction bottk, and a bound
''itlsh Museum. It is entitled^ " Xeue Zeitung, aas volume of sheet music with her own name on tho cover,

llispahan uad Italien" (News from Spain and Italy), sho tripped gayly down tho steps and on to the icy pavt"
and bears tho date of February, 1^34. The catalogue ment. Men hastening to their various avocations wcro
g&vo the following do^Dcription of it: "An exceedingly slipping and sliding, and grasping each other's hands
rare jonroat, which appears to have bcou printed at to balanr** tliomselves. Seeing her old friend Oen'l P.
Nuremberg. It contains the fir^t aQnoancoment of the coming d'uvn tho and fearing ho miglit fancy
street,

discovery of Peru, and has remained unknown to all tho a Joko at her expense, sho t|uickoncd her steps. But
bibliographiots that we huvo been able to consult. In haste Is often a poor aid to gravity. Ono, two, threo
this printed sheet It isGovernor of Pauu-
said that the efforts of the provoked little beauty to keep her feet,
myrft (Panama) in tho Indies, wroto to his majesty but all in vain. Away went tho centre of gravity over
(Charles V.) that a vcs-sel had arrived from Peru, with the base, and books and maiden were brought low.
a letter from tho Rei;ont, Francisco Piscara (Pizarro), While many a young cavalier was preparing to come to
annoancin^ that he had taken possession of the coun- her assistance, the General kindly rai?ed her to hetfeet,
try ; that with about 200 Spaniards, infantry and cav- placed her books in her hands, and herself on the steps
alry, he had repaired to the possessions of at; rent seigno- of hor music teacher's door, saying playfully :

named Cassiko {who refused peaco), and attacked him, "Well, Miss Music Scholar, what do you call that?
that the Spaniards were the victors, and thnc ho had k fiat or a sharp /"
seized npon SfiOO cufdillons (gold pieces), and of 20,000 "It's a, fiat," said tho tearful, pouting, rosy-cheeked

silver marks, and he had obtained 2,000,000

lastly, that maiden, "but dou't say anything about it."
in gold from the said Cassiko." Her teacher kindly met her at the door, and soon, in
harmony's sonl-thrilliug strains, she, forthe time being,
SoMETHiXfl ABOUT MrsKAsAPERPrsTK. When "board- forgot the mishap of the morning.

ing round" was the fashion with school teachers, Farmer Toung ladies, when yon would trust yourselves on
A., on coming to the house at tea-time, wag introduced to the slippery pavements without rubbers, remember Caro.
the "school-ma'am." la a moment lio perceived a
strong odor of rausk, which camo from the school-
IsFLUHJTCE OF Femalrs. It is better for you to pass
ma'am's clothing. Ho, entirely ignorant of the cause, an evening once or twice a week in a lady's drawing-
immediately charged it on Ponto, who had a strong pro- room, even though the conversation is slow, and yon
pensity for hunting muskrats, and at once commanded ^tnow the girl's song by heart, than in a club, tavern,
him "Ponto, you scamp, you havo been killing vuuik'
:
or the pit of a theatre. All amusements of youth to
rats go out of doors, sir, and get sweetened off.'' But
;
which virtuous women aro not admitted, rely on it, are
Ponto did not stir, and Farmer A. spoke again more deleterious to their nature. All men who avoid female
sharply: " Get out, yon 'U scent the whole house!" society have dull peiceplions and are stupid, or have
The school-ma'am, by this time, was blushing red as gross tastes, and revolt against what is pure. Tour
orimson, while the girls and the boys could scarcely club swaggerers, who are sucking the butts of billiard
keep from bur-^ting into laughter. Ono of them, unno- cues all night, call female society insipid. Poetry is
ticed, at last made their father understand how the
uninspiring to a yokel ;no charms for a
beauty ha.s

matter stood, and he, of course, dropped the subject. blind mau music does not please a poor beast who
;

The evening passed away rather awkwardly with all, does not know one tune from another but as a true ;

and the teacher failed to return the next day. On her epicure is hardly ever tired of water, sancey, and brown

account the affair was kept quiet until after she left tho bread and butter, I protet I can sit for a whole night
neighborhood, when many were the hearty laughs had talking to a well-regulated, kindly woman about her

over Farmer A.'s error and the school-ma'am's discom- girl Fanny or her boy Frank, and like the evening's en-

fltare. She omitted musk thereafter. tertainment. One of the great benefits a man may derive
from woman's society is that he is bound to be respect-
Messrs J. E. Tiltox A Co., Boston, have for eale all ful to her.Tho habit is of great good to your moral
materials for the different styles of Painting and Draw- men, depend upon it. Our education makes of us the
ing taught in their book, Art Recreations. They will most eminently selfish men in tho world. We fight for
send a price list, and answer necessary
if requested, ourselves, we push for ourselves, we yawn for ourselves,

questions, and will send, post paid, the bnok for $2 00. we light our pipes and say we won't go out, we prefer
It teaches Pencil and Crayou Drawing, Oil Painting of ourselves and our ease; and the greatest benefit that
every kind. Wax-work, Leather-work, Water Color comes to a man from a woman's society is, that he ha-s
Painting, and huodreda of fancy kinds of drawing, to think of somebody to whom he is bound to be con-

painting, etc. etc. stantly attentive and respectful.

A QBTfLEMAN lately returned from London, says, the A LADT impatiently awaiting the arrival of her lover,
year there is four months of winter, and eight months of moved the hands of the clock forward an hour to make
Tillainoua weather. the *ime for his appearance come sooner.
 "

194 godey's lady's book and magazine.

EUEAL EESIDENCE.
Designed expressly for Godey^s Lady's Book by Isaac H. Hobbs, Architect, Philadelphia.

ii).iii-^

PEKSPECTITB TIEW.

I C J~D~tl|

FIRST STORT. SECOND STORY.

Pin^t Story. A parlor, B sitting-room, C dining-rnom, and with always washed their hair, rubbing
this she
I) breakfast-room, E kitchen, F wash-room, G porch, H the paste into the roots with her fingers, and afterwards
carriage porch, I porch, J wash-room. cleansing the head with clean tepid soft water rain

Second Story. L principal chamber, M chamber, N water is best this will make the skin of the head free
;

"bath and water closet, bath, Z chamber, S roof. from scurf, and the hair soft and glossy. M. W.

Madam In late nnrabers of yonr Lady's Book, I see Nathaniel Lee, author of the Rival Queens, was one
several notices " on the use of oatmeal instead of soap. night travelling by moonlight. A light cloud passed
A most excellent nurse, who brought up all my chil- over the moon; the poet cried: "Jupiter, arise and
dren, had constantly a small barrel of oatmeal ia her snufiFthe moon !" A denser cloud now made total dai-k-
nursery cupboard, and in cold frosty weather never used ness. "Stupid!" cried the poet, "you have snufi'ed it

nny oap, only oatmeal, to wash all the children iinder out."
her care, aud always used it for the baby from the first
bath. I never saw one of them have chapped hands, The Fashion Editor desires ns to say that she receives
and they had all most delicate fine skins. A little cup- orders from those who are subscribers and those who
ful of oatmeal was moistened with the white of a raw are not ; in fact, she never stops to inquire whether they
eg^ into ft paste, a spoonful of tepid water added to it, are or are not subecribors to the Lady's Book.
 GODETS ABM-CHAIR. 195

JUVKNILE DEPARTMENT. county, and State yoa reside

out of post-marks.
in. Nothing can be made

Mrs. T. T. D. Sent infant's wardrobe by express May

CHARADES IN TABLEAUX. lAth.

IIAT-BAXD. Mrs. E. M. J. Sent pattern 16th.

Sirs. L. W. Sent hair ring 21st. -i
TABLEAU I. HAT- J. D. B. Sent hair jewelry 2l6t.
TnK scone parlor. In the forejfronnd (centre), facing L. F. F. Sent pattern 23d.
the audience, Is a vpry little girl dressed ia white.
Miss P. M. Sent dress hy express 2Ulh.
L 'ng yellow curls, and blue eyes are the prettiest for Mrs. M. N. Sent braiding pattern and embroidery
effect. She is trying on a man's hat, and holdini; it up paper 27th.
from fulling down on h<^r Ahoulders, with both hands. Mrs. . K. Sent braiding pattern 27tb.
Two othercbildren to the left are laughing at her, while, Mrs. G. C. S. Sent braiding pattern 27th.
to the right, just entering, are a lady and gentleman. Lt. M. J. Sent hair work by Adams's express 2.Sth.
The former is in a home drees, the latter Is in street T. S. S. Sent box, bonnets, &c. by Adams's express
costume, with overcoat and cane, but without any hat. 29th.
The lady holds up her finger to silenco the laughing J. F. K. Sent box containing bonnet hy Adams's ex-
children, while the gentleman stoops over the little
press 29th.
thief, with Ills arms ontstretched to prison her, and his
Miss M. P. K. Sent vest pattern by Kinsley's express
lips ready for the kiss she has forfeited. 29th.

TABLBAIT 11. BAND. Mrs. S. C. Sent pattern June 3d.

The background has a balcony window in the centre.
Mrs. C. S. C Sent pattern 3d.
Mrs. E. B. Sent pattern 3d.
(A very effective one may be made by placing a fender
Miss M. T. Sent pattern 3d.
on a large table, with two upright posts at e.ich end,
Mrs. G. M. D. Sent hair work by Adams's express
placed about two feet apart. Drape from these heavy
8th.
crimson curtains, looped up, and put a bnr across for the
window-frame.) At the window are two little girls
C. H. B. Sent zephyr work materials by Kinsley's
express 9th.
wrapped in large shawls, as if just awakened by the
J. M R. Sent patterns 12th.
music. In the foreground seven little boys represent
Mi^s S. E. 0. Sent collar pattern 12th.
the serenade band. One blows a penny trumpet, the
second has a pair of bone clappers, the third a toy drum,
S. S. S. Sent braiding pattern \2ih.
Mrs. n. F. W. Sent patterns 12th.
the fourth a toy fife, the fifth a tambourine, the sixth a
toy violin, and the seventh an immen)^e trombone.
Miss R. C Sent India-rubber gloves 12th.
They all carry sheets of music, are wrapped in long
E. n. Sent mantilla pattern 12th.
G. W. W. Sent cloak pattern 12th.
cloaks, and wear large slouch hats. The stage must bo
Mrs. S. Sent hair fob chain 12th.
J. S.
darkened, except the light given by seven candles, held
Will. The lady is right. If sha were poor, it would
one behind each performer by his servant, dressed as a *
be otherwise.
negro-valet. These seven boys, with black faces and
M. M. " A Party and what came of it," will appear
bands, dressed in absurd negro costume, must be grin-
in September number.
ning with delight at their masters' performance. Ono
of the little girls at the window leans forward, holding
Mrs. M. G. E
Single crochet (S C). Having a stitch
on the hook insert it in another, and draw the thread
a bouquet over the balcony front, while the other points
through tliat (me; then through both the stitches on the
with diiimay to a tall figure of a woman, who is seen
needle. ^
behind the window, holding up a bucket of water to
Double Crochet (D C). Having a stitch on the needle,
deluge the juvenile sereuaders.
put the thread round it Jf/orc inserting it in the stitch
TABLEAC 111 HAT-BAXD. of the work, or drawing the thread through which there

Here the same scene and performers as are in the first will be three loops on the needle now bring the thread ;

throui,'h two, which leaves one and the new one bring ;
tableau appear again. The little girl sealed on the
the thread through both of them.
floor ha^ a long garland of fiowers, which she is going
Treble Crochet (T C) is worked precisely the Fame
to wrea:h round the hat. A second little girl is cutting
off the hat-band with a pair of scissors, whilo a third
way, but with the thread trcice round the hook, which,
as two stitches only are taken off at a time, will finifch
holds the hat for the operation. The little ono on the
floor has her lap full of flowers, and hilds one end
the stitch by a treble movement.
Miss S. R. "Receipt" is correct. Recipe when ap-
of the garland up in front of the hat to try theeffcct the ;

plied to medicine.
one who holds the hat kueels, to ber right, nud between
them stands, stooping, the one who has the scissors. Miss G. R. We cannot recommend any description of
lotion or powder improving your complexion, as wo
for
Laughing, in the background, are the lady and gentle-
man mentioned before she springing forward to save never heard of one which was really efficacious. Plenti-
;

ful ablutions, regular exercise, and a good diet will bo

the hat, ho holding her back.
more likely to improve your skin than any cosmetic.
Dear Sir I sincerely love a young gentleman, who Is
:

PHILADELPHIA AGE.VCT. a very intimate friend of mine, but he has nf ver spoken
of love to me. Dear Sir, I sliould very much like to
No order attended to unless the cash arcompanies it.
have a lock of his hair, and, as he is a very shy young
man, it is not at all likely I shall get it wiihoui asking.
All persons requiring answers by mail must send a Do you think there would be any impropriety in my
post-offlce stamp
and for all articles that are to he sent
: * aski'ng for a piece ? I remain yonrs very truly. E.

by mail, stampsmust be sent to pay return postage. Wo think yon had better ascertain whether he wears
Be particular, when writing, to mention the town, a wig before you ask the qaestion.
 ;

196 godey's lady's book and magazixe.

G. R. T. The gentleman's family shonid, most cer- from^uo, I flow ; and is employed by chemists to indi-
tainly, bethe^rfi^ to call upoa the lady who has accepted cate any substance which, being heated with another
him as her husband. As the gentleman is generally substance, increases the fusibility of the latter. For
supposed to woo the lady, the first advances, even in the instance, when we exposed to a red heat the mixture of
most trifling matter, should be made by him and those powdered flint (silica) and carbonate of soda, tlie carbo-
belonging to him. We are rather surprised at the nate acted as a flux. Without it, the silica would nut
question. have even by the greatest heat of a black^^mith'a
fused,
S. L. Wo cannot publish '*
the prices of patterns and forge; with it, fusion was accomplished mo^t readily.

everything we
furnish." It would fill one number of The whole theory of smelting turns on the proper selec-
the Book. Send a stamp with your inquiry, and the tion of a flux, which, for adoption on the large scale,
Fashion editor will answer. must be not only efficacious but cheap. In the labora-
Miss B. H. We can't help it. It is no business of tory, where operations are prosecuted on a small scale,
ours. Apply to the publishers of the work. and the expense of fluxes is no object, we have a large
Jiliss R. M 0.
To our thinking, the very best mode choice of substances from which the metallurgist is
of cooking a good potato is to boil it in. its jacket and debarred. In furnace operations, the only use of a flux
roast it befoi'e the fire. is to impart fluidity but when employed in connection
;

with the blowpipe, fluxes are made to convey much

information. We have already seen that glass is colored

OTjjciuistrg for llje oun|. of various tints by means of difl'ereut metals; thus,
by gold it is tinged ruby red by arsenic, iron, green
;

(bottle-glass) and tin, opaque white, etc. Suppose,

;

LESSON XXllL {Continued.) then, we, iu the course of our blowpipe experiments on

Take an open glass an unknown mineral, should succeed, by fusing it with

673. tube, slightly bent at the end,
a flux, in producing a glass whose color is referable to
thus iu the spirit-lamp flame, and drop
that corresponding with some known metal, is it not
into the bend a fragment of argentiferous
clear we should derive important information? The
galena, sulphuret of lead and silver.
chief fluxes employed ijy chemists are: (Ij carbonate of
Expose the fragment to the heat of a
soda, (2) borax, (3) microcosmic salt (a phosphate of soda
Bplrit-larap flame, holding the long bend
aud ammonia), (4) nitre.
of the tube highest, and remark the odur
of sulphurous acid evolved from tbo
long bend of the tube. This operation
will give an idea of the process of roast- J'Esljions.

ing had recourse to for the purpose of driving off sul-
phur and arsenic. It will also impress upon the mind
a ready moans of ascertaining, iu the dry way, the pre-
NOTICE TO LADY SUBSCRIBERS,
sence of sulphur in the mineral containing it. This Having had frequent applications for the purchase of

process of smelling through a tube, by the way, is a jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, the

very excellent means of recognizing an odor, and fre- Editress of the Fashion Department will hereafter execute
quently had recourse to by chemists. Had our object commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of
been that of merely roasting away sulphur, in the form a small percentage for the time and research required.

of sulphurous acid gas, the process might have been
more conveniently performed by means of an iron spoon
and an open ^re-place. Remember that the process of
roasting is that by which sulphur is universally dissi-
Spring and autumn bonnets, materials for dresses, jewelry,
envelops, hair-work, worsteds, children's wardrobes, man-
tillas,and mantelets, will be chosen with a view to econo-
my, as well as taste and boxes or packages forwarded
;

pated from minerals on the large scale, and iu the dry by express to any part of the country. For the last,
way. Perhaps the student may like to know how sul- distinct directions must be given.

phur-containing minerals are dealt with iu the moist Orders, accompanied Ity checks for the 2>rnposed exjyen-
way. Either the sulphuret may be acted on by dilute dUure, to be addressed to Vie care of L. A. Gmit:!/, Esy.
and warm nitric acid, when the metal or metals (except Noorder will be attended to unless tlie vumey is frst
tin, antimony, and bismuth) (332-3) will be dissolved, received. Neither the Editor nor Publisher will be accoiuU-

leaving the sulphur, as sulphitr, in which state it may ablefor losses Vmt mail occur in remitting.
be collected, dried, and weighed; or the mineral may The Publisher of the Lady's Book has no interest in
be boiled with concentrated fuming nitric acid, until all this department, and knows nothing of the transactinns
the sulpliur has been converted iuto sulphuric acid, at and whether the person sending the order is or is m-L a

tlie expense of the nitric acid, from which it removes subscriber to the Lady's Book, the Fashion editor does
OKygeu (302). Supposing the sulphuret acted upon to not know.
be argtnliftrnus ffilna, the former method is preferable, Instructions to be as minute as is possible, accompanied
because the sulphuric acid generated by the latter me- by a note and general style of
of the height, complexion,

thod, instead of remaining di.ssolved, in a condition to the person, on which much depends in choice. Dress
be precipitated by a barytic salt, as sulphate of baryta, goods from Evans k Co.'s mourning goods from Besson
;

and the aranuat of original sulphur calculated from the & Son; cloaks, mantillas, or talm:*8, from Brodie's, 51
amount of resulting sulphuric acid instead of this, the
;
Canal Street, New York bonnets from the most celebrated
;

sulphuric acid, so soon as formed, would combine with establishments; jewelry from Wriggens Sa Warden, or
oxide of lead, and be precipitated as sulphate of oxide of Caldwell's, Philadelphia.
leiid a very insoluble salt. Nevertheless, this scheme WhP'n goods are ordered, the fashions that prevail here
of analysis also yields very accurate results, but it in- govern the purchase; therefore, no articles will be taken
volves more calculatious than the other. back. When the goods are sent, the transaction must be
57-i. The Use of Fluxes. The term flux is derived considered flnaL
 FASHIONS, 197

DESCRIPTIOJf OF STEEL FASHIO.\.PLATE FOE

Fig. 2. CoilTuro formed of black lace aud black rib-
ArCUST. bon, flowers, aud a cluster of cbciries.
Fig 3. Ueuddiessof ^carlet velvet edged with black
Pi^- 1.White French muslin dro^s, trimmed with six
lace, havii)g a coronet of llowerb aud loops of velvet
rows of miisltn qiiilliug. The coragc is low, and over
mingled with lace.
It la worn a Mario Anlolnelto ficha, laid in ptitiu, aud
trimmed with Fig. -L Black velvet coiffure, with gold oruameuta
fluting3 and worked rutHiug. The Qchu
and scarlet flowers.
tie at the back, and
long embroidered ends, also
ha-*

trimmed with a quilling of muslin. Tlio sleeves are

Fig. 5 A thick roll of brown velvet, with heavy
coronet of roses and light flowers.
pnffed,aud Just wide enough to pass tho hand through.
The hair Is crept', ancl arranged in a walorfall at the Fig. 6. A very stylish coiffure composed of Magonta
velvet and gold ornameuts, with a tuft of whito llowcrs
bftck.
ou the left side.
FSg. 2. A pink grenadine dress, trimmed with box-
plaited ruffles of pink silk. The little corsage is of the
same material aa the dress, and worn over a white mus-
CHITCHAT UPOX >*EW YORK AND PHILADEL-
lin ffu impe.
PHIA FASHIOXS FOE AUOL'bT.
Fig. 3. Purple grenadine skirt, with black velvet When sultry August comes, and the Dog Star rages,
girdle and hretelles. The gnimpe is of French mu&Ua> nothing briugs us to town but our duty to our readers.
tacked and trimmed with qnilliugs. We come for a few days to visit the modistes, to see what
Fig. 4.
Ashes of roses silk, trimmed with rows of their fruitful fancy has produced, or where, in some
black lace, beaded bv bands of Magenta velvet. The moment of inspiration, they have "snatched a grace be-
corsage is made with a fancy bertha, aud trimmed in the yond the reach of art." And we must say wo never
Can shape. The hair iacT(^>^, aud parted at the left side, cease wondering at the fertility of their invention.
and arranged very low on the nock with a black lace Ago cannot wither it, uor custom stale
barbe. Its infinite variety.

Fig. fl. LilacsUk dinner-dress. The skirt is edged We allude more particularly this month to decorations.
with a fluted flounce, beaded by a rose quilling. It is Instead of the usual braid binding, on the edge of the
trimmed rn co^uillfs, formed of black velvet and white dress, a bourrelet, or thick roll staffed with wadding, is
lace. This trimming Is carried up to the waist, ou the now substituted. When a dress is too thin for the
lefl Bide only. The corsage is trimmed with lace and bourrelet, edged with a braid, which is maucfac-
it is
velvet sewed on in the jacket form, and finishes at the tured ready fluted, and the effect is very pretty.
back in long sash ends. The hat is of Leghoru. bound All kiuds of braid trimmings are much worn, sewed
with black velvet, and trimmed with a scarlet and black on in endless variety of design. We noticed that on the
feather. travelling dresses at Mmo. Deraorest's, the braid was
Fig. 6. Cnir-colored Paris grenadine, figured with doubled and stitched on iu different styles, aud had tho
black, and trimmed with five rows of box-plaited eieeu appearance of a silk pipiug.
silk. The corsage is low, acd over it is worn a fancy Leather trimmings increase in favor, and, for a black
flchn, with long sleeves, tiimmed with greeu ribbon. dress, we know of no prettier ornament thau the leather
Fine titraw hat, trimmed with greeu ribbons and a fall gimps aud buttons so straw like in appearance. They
of black lace. are used on bonnets as well as on dresses and wraps.
Flounced or tucked orgaudiesare bound with cambric
LATEST STYLE OF DRESSES. of a contrasting color. This has much the effect of rib-
bon, and has tho advantage of washing.Tho very ex-
JVom A. T. Steii>art'8 Establishment, corner qf Broadieay
pensive muslins are generally trimmed with ribbon,
and Tenth St., New York.
the same as a grenadine.
^. {Ste engravings, pages 118, 119.) Skirts are faced with grass cloth, or enamelled leather,
FOITLABD ROBE. which is now to be had iu light colors.
This novel robe of foulard silk.
There is nothing particularly new, either in the shape
is It has the appear-

tnce of a skirt of mauve silk, with an over dress open ofbonnets or dresses, with the exception of the corsage,
)

in front, aud rather short, showing the mauve in the made with four points iu front, aud three behind.
front and on the edge of the skirt. The overdress it. a Jockey waists with square ends in front. Pompadour
white ground figured with black, aud d^'ed all rouud waists, and sleeves d la Condi (that is, quite small, and

with a bordering resembling a rich bhick lace. The made with an elbow), are the most desirable styles for

corsage is in the Pompadour style, trimmed with mauve
ribbons.
ORBNADINB DRESS.
. This dres*?,one of the most elegant designs of the sea-
^ 8on, has a while ground powdered with pausies of the
. natural colors and light leaves. The bordering at the
edge of the skirt is a deep sea-green, headed by bands of
' black resembling velvet. The corsage is in the Pompa-
I
door style, with rich maslin guimpe and eleeves.
HEADDUESSES, ETC.
{Sttt engravings, page 125.)
Fig. 1.'Coiffure of black velvet and black lace, with
A coronet of roses, ou which is a small humming-bird.
all kinds of goods.
Alpacas, camlets, India silks, and mohairs are now
merely used as travelling dresses, or for the seaside.
Gossamer fabrics are now almost exclusively seen.
Among the prettiest are the corded cambrics and organ-
dies of the finest texture, printed in the most beautiful
designs. For instance, a plain colored, or self-colored
ground, as it is termed, with a black lace tunic, or else
the skirt half covered with ends of sashes, seemingly nf
black lace, extending from the waist. All these lace
delusions are effective, beautiful, aud iu great variety of
design.
The grenadines and bariges, we have previously de-
scribed,aud they are of every imaginable shade of cufr,
which is suitable for both old and young, aud contrasts
80 well with all bright colore.
198 gobet's lady's b##k and ma^azipc^.

The ornithological taste has extended to thin tissaes. much used. A great variety of leather belts have ap
We see lovely white fabrics with peacocks in their rich peared, ornamented with velvet or morocco of differeut
plaraage, and ona lovely cuir ground, are black swal- colors, and gilt or steel knobs. We do not like them for
lows darting hither and thither. ladies but think tbey would make a very pretty addi
For mornias', nothing is prettier than the printed per- tiou to a little boy's costume.
cales and pi'jues, aud so excellent are the braiding imi- we have nothing very new. What
For the Httle folks
tations on them, that few persons now go to the expense Is worn by growa up people is made in miuiature loa-
and labor of braiding their dresses. the little ones.

For thin, or silk dresses, the braiding appiiqu'^ is very Tulle and tarletane, being light, airy materials, are
fashionable. Vines and designs are cut out of %-elvet or the most suitable for summer ball dresses lor young
silk, laid upon
the dress, aud finished with a braid. ladies. The newest styles are trininied with s^wan's
Another style is for the design to be in lace, and the ma- down. Loops of down imbedded in puffs, have a very
terial cut from underneath. This is quite novel. The charming effect.
applique is generally of a darker shade than the dress, Some of the newest tarletanes are worked with silk,
or of a contrasting color. chenille, or velvet, in imitation ol brauches of coral,
Pongees are much worn for the entire suit, including which are very effective and pretty.
bonnet and parasol. For the latter, as well as sun um- The prettiest coiffure for this dress, is La Gitana,
brellas, it is particularly fashionable. which particularly attracted our attention at 5Ime. Tit-
In Paris the ladies are wearing wraps of the same man's, of 143 East Ninth Street, Xew York It was the
41
color as the dress, though frequently ot a darker shade most fascinating combiuation of gleaming scarlet verbe-
and of a diifereut material. nas, enamelled leaves, grass, and scai let ribbou bordered
While on the subject of dresses, we must call atten- with black, falling in long graceful pendants. Imagine
tion to the admirable dress shields just brought out by a rich brunette complexion and sparkliug black eyes,
Hme. Demorest. They are of a new material, perfectly beneath this fiinciful coquetry.
impervious to moisture, and resemble a creamy white Aaother model of grace aud elegance was the postil-
muslin. They are also very thin, and have not the dis- lion hat, of white chip, very pecuMar in shape, and
agreeable odor of India-rubber Bibs and dress protec- trimmed with bands of cherry velvet, and cherry and
tors are also made of this material for infants, which white feathers. This was the most stylish aud expen-
will he found exceedingly nice and convenient. We sive hat of the season.
think this a great invention; and particularly call the Mme. Tilmau's flower creations arc perfect rivals of
attention of mothers to it nature Many of them are orchids mixed with grasses
A new material for wraps has lately appeared in and variegated leaves. In all the flowers, nature is most
Paris. It is called Yak, and is a white "worsted lace, closely followed, the stems being velvety, prickly, or
lined with a colored silk. We give two illustrations of thorny, to suit their respective flower. Many of our
these wraps in the present nnmher. readers are probably not aware, that at Ibis house
ThoDgh the col!.et, or talma, seems to take the lead, we flowers are arranged to suit the taste of the purchaser.
think it a very warm wrap, and decidedly prefer the little Either for the inside or outside of a bonnet in wreaths
ecarf mantles at Brodie's. They are to he had with or dress garnitures. Full bridal parares are tuiuished
pointed, round, or square ends. Another style fits the and the veil is so arrauged on the wreath, that the as-
bhoulders like a b'rthe, fastens in front, and falls in scarf sistance of a coiffeur is not required. Think of that, ye
oads. We saw at this establishment a mohair shawl, a fair ones, who like to have the latest styles aud live at

very excellent imitation of guipure lace. a distance from our large cities.

At the watering-places there seems to be a perfect From a number of dresses just finished at the estab-
furore for the scarlet cloaks, so gypsy-like in appear- lishment of JIme. Demorest, we selected the following

ance. as being particularly elegant and becoming. An or-

Seated, a few afternoons since, in a shady corner of a gandie dress for a young lady. The skirt was ma<(BTuU
broad piazza, we watched the crowd as it passed by. with a very deep hem, above which was a cluster of
There came up the I'oad an equipage all aflame, with tucks about an inch wide, then a luck half the width of
one of these brilliant garments thrown over the shoul- the hem, and another cluster of small tucks, the trim-
ders of a lady, seated on the box. And who is the little ming continued and graduated h.-ilf way up the skirt.
body coming yonder? Sorely that is little Ked Riding- The waist was composed of small tacks with a band of
hood herself. We are not a wolf, and yet we devour insertion between each cluster and fulled into a band
Uer with kisses. at the waist. The sleeves were made to correspond
Barige, and grenadine shawls, are of all styles, plaids, with the waist, and gathered mt^i a loose baud at the
cJiecks, stripes, aud plain. Then there are the made wrist where It finished with a raffle of Valenciennes.
shawls, trimmed with flutings, or else a ribbou of a con- The sash of clusters of tucks and inseition edged with
trasting color, laid ou plain and crossing at tUe-corners, Valenciennes was to be worn on the left side.
the shawl being folded to show two borders. A very dlstingui dinner dre<s was of mauve silk with
In fans, there is also a great variety. First, the ele- an overskirt of French muslin, open on the leii side
gant bridal f;in, of point lace, with mother of pearl nearly to the waist, and trimmed all round with a
sticks r.chly carved. Then the lovely silks and moires, quilling of mauve ribbon. The open space at the side
witb real lace decorations. Less expensive silk fans are was joined by interlaced ma-.ive ribbons. The corsage
also to be bad in endless variety. We see also the was of white muslin puffed to the throat, and the sleeves
pretty little round straws, interlaced with ribbons and a mass of puffings; over this was a Spanish waist of
velvet. Also the useful companion the linen fan, to be mauve silk. The toCd enseiiible was exquisite, and ii
had in white, black, brown, and gray watered, span- was decidedly one of the moat stylish dresses of ihe
gled, piain, aud feather shaped. The prettiest style season. .

is tUe folding round fan, though the ordinary shape is Fasuios.

^^i
 BAISIIfQ A BEARD,

VOL. LXVII. 17 aos



mmwf
BALLAD FOR THE GUITAK.
fill I m
COMPOSED AND ARRANGED FOR GODEy's LADt's BOOK,

By JAMES McWILLIAMS.

Moderato.

VOICE.
n^^^^^^s^^^^m For -get thee! no! till time shall cease, This change - leas heart of

GUITAR. zS=: -I 1 1
1
*-^\ ! -I ' 1 1 I

:r^ :jj [^ [;> rj^ |1J

afczt
ii^e.^iii 3=^::
1*3=*::
mine, In joy, in pain, what - e'er thy lot, Is

^4 I^^HS^** sr-r-l ^sr P**

^p^^E
ev - er, ev - er thine. For the flow'r at twi - light hour. Weeps

-1 "-^
lLUJJ
I I

-^1 I I

>-s- =^=1=^q
:^*= :*=3: =^=^ ij__^; :^pii

m
In the eve - uiag dew, So doth my heart, thine own a part. Weep

tftt 1=
-=i =^ i=*:=Ib: J
tT H 1
- I 1 1 1
 ;

FORGET thee! NO!

Id
:*=S=
each thought of 70a. 2. For - gel
mm
'

thee! no! liut

IT :=t
-IU-U m 1^^

m^^^^^M^^^glaoce tbioe eye To yoa bright star a - bove Doubt that bright
A=e:
star may

iMm^T^^^^m^^^^^
:j cy t ^rU U aJ cU
eease to Ehioe, Thea doubt my change - less love;

~
gi||^^j=^
fi M ri --^ Mil
M
i i
I I I
i
j

1 I

>^-t-
rsi r:i::r=a:
:?E?^Eil;
as that star that Ehioes a far, From oat Its home of blae, 'Will

-^-1 1
1 ^-

I r I I
~ I
^m^
:U:;t:

Jizz^z

glis - ten bright in dark est night, So burns my love for yoa

==^*-"^
13^ -{--
'XT I I r I
 LATEST STYLE OF RIDING-DRESS.
{Front vieu\)
{See description^ Fashion departmenW)
206
LATEST STYLE OF RIDIXG-DRESS.
(Bad- vietr.)

(& description, Fashion department.)

IT 209
 DINNER-DRESS.

Parl -colored silk. The skirt is trimmed with 6vf very narrow ruffles of Magenta silk. The corsage is m.
with a very deep point in front, and trimmed in tlie fan stvle, with Magenta silk ruffles. A narrow
rur
sewed on the waist of the corsage, and is finished up tne back with two bows and long streamers. The
The headdress is of Mage
is rolled, but taken very little off the face, and is dressed in a bow at the back.
velvet.
210
 DINITEB-DRESS.

fhPS of roses silk, with a deep flonnce of black lace on the skirt.
The flonnce is headed by a hand of thf
black velv,,t bows, thus forminfj putTs. Th
!dged with narrow black lace, and caught at intervals by
es and corsage are trimmed to match. The headdress is of scarWt and black velvet. The hair is arranged
low on the neck in a bow.
^
 MORNING ROBE.

Shirt and jacket. of gray pigu^, braided with black.

212
 THE CASTILIAN.
tFrom the ertablUbment of O. Bbodib, 51 Ciual Siret- 1, NVw Turk. Drawn by L. T. Voiot, from actoal
articles of coKtame.]

This bcantifal garment for the present month is maiie in lilaok silk, witli a magnificent orna-
mental braitlinij in silk cord and black beads, and with lace frills upon the body and sleeves. For
the coming season, they will be made in the same fashion of black velvets, and also some will
preserve the main features, but have flowing sleeves iii.stead of those in the illustration.
 JTAUE FOa UASKINO.

GORED MOENING ROBE.

Made of white mnslin, trimmed with graduated rafflinj;, which is carried np every half breadth for about
tliree-quarters of a yard. T!ie small pelerine aud sleeves are trimmed to match. White muslin cap, trimumd
with black velvet and amber ribbons.
214
3
w
o

X " ft-

>

Z15
LATEST STYLE OF BONNETS.
{See description, Fashion department.)


GODEY'S
''Ahh fm\i anb n^qmt
PniLADELPniA, SEPTEMBER, 1863.

"TEE WAE OF THE EOSES."

BT DAISY HOWARD.

" WuAT dress will you wear to Mrs. Ililton's him she
did not give him a chance to leave
to-uight, Rose ?" her. passed them during the evening, and
I
"do not know, dear Carro indeed I have
I ; Ernest made a movement as though about to
not given it .1 thouglit, .and would mucli ratber join me, when la belle yellow hair chained him
remain at home than mingle with the gay to- again, to answer some question regarding the
night." gayeties of his 'beautiful city.' I foresee very
" Mot attend the most splendid party of the plainly, Rosie, that I shallhonor that deceitful
season Why, Rose Traverse, are you crazy,
! little Arlington with my most cordial hatred."
child ? St.ay at home, indeed, and give your "Not so fast, Carro. I think, for so very
famous rival. Rose Arlington, a chance to cap- small a lady as you are, you are talking pretty
tivate your haudsome Ernest ? Rose, she is large about this young stranger."
perfectly lovely not your noble beauty, dar- "You are right, Rosie. To use one of George's
ling' but a tiny, blue-eyed, golden-haired fairy, elegant expressions, I believe I have been talk-
beautiful as rose-tinted evening clouds, or like ing rather '
high falutin ;' but. Rose, you can-
one of those glorious crimson and gold sunsets not imagine the wiles of that girl remember
we saw last year in the land of sunny skies you have only met her once. When Captain
Ibright Italia. But pshaw Rose, I cannot be
I Acton came to cl.aim her hand for a promised
jpoetical. mentioned th^two most beau-
I h.ave dance, she actually filled Ernest's arms so that
ttiful things my eyes ever rested upon, and now he would be obliged to await her return bou-
am at the 'end of my string," always except- quets, fans, handkerchiefs, opera-cloaks, and
ing the beautiful slumbrous light in your own even her gloves. I had half a mind to send
glorious dark eyes, darling. What ails your one of the servants with Miss Mason's compli-
eyes to-night. Rose Traverse ? Their look is ments, and ask if he did not need some one to
iWierd and unearthly." help him bear his burden."
j
" I feel saddened, Carro. Emma Hade's fool- "Oh, Carro Mason, you are incorrigible.
llsh talk about Ernest's devotion to Miss Arling- You make me laugh, even while swallowing
'ton hast night has grieved me." down a sob. I do not grieve because Ernest
" Never heed her words, Rosie dear she is ; finds pleasure in the society of another as you
la mischief-maker, and would make trouble be- know I am not of a jealous nature neither do
tween you and Ernest Clare. The little vixen I I grieve because have not moral courage to
I

|[ could twist her neck off." give up the love of Ernest Clare
but for the ;

I
'
Fy, fy, Carro that is rough and unusual
! reason that it has shaken my faith in human
language from your sweet lips. But tell me nature. If Ernest, with his noble soul and
did you not think Ernest too devoted, as Emma high, brave spirit, can be so easily won to for-
laid, to this Southern belle, when his hand and get the love of years, who can we trust?"
deart are pledged to another?" " Bide a wee, sweet cousin, bide a wee. He
Well, he certainly was attentive to Miss
'
loves not Rose Arlington ; he loves but the
irlington but she was quite as attentive to
; bright crimson rose of his boyhood's idolatry
t6l. lsvii. 13 217


218 godet's lady's book and magazine.

sweet Rose Traverse he is but captivated hy

;
"Now, Rose, you wrong him. It is only in
her wondrous beauty." her presence that he feels the spell of this
" I care not, Carro I will not iave a sbare
;
Southern beauty. Please, Rosie, come to-night,
in the heart which once was all my own. I just to make me happy. I will copy all day
will releasehim from the vows made in the old to-morrow for you, if you do."
Cathedral in Rome if they press too lieavily upon Rose could not withstand the pleading eyes,
his spirit one word from his own lips, and he
; and sadly she gathered up the scattered papers
is free as air." and replaced them in the desk.
The cousins were in a sumptuous cliamber " I will go with you, Carro, if only for the
in the house of Rose Traverse. Rich crimson sake of making my little cousin happy."
^ damask curtains shaded the window, throwing " How you seem to love those tiresome
a warm ruddy glow over the two fair faces. A papers. Rose ! One could fancy you had to
carpet of crimson and white, with flowers so write for a living."
rich in coloring, one could fancy Flora herself " No, darling, I do not have to toil for my
had flung her treasures over it with no sparing daily bread, but I have to write to satisfy the
hand, rich clusters of crimson roses and convol- cravings of my restless heart, which is ever
vulus, mingled with the trailing myrtle, whose clamoring, write write. I could no more keep
bright green contrasted beautifully with the from writing, than you can keep from singing
glowing flowers, almost winning one to stoop allday long, my happy Carro. I love to hear
and gather them. Carro stood before the grate, your rich voice, clear and sweet as the bulbul's
with her forehead bent upon the marble mantel, song."
beating an impatient tattoo upon the floor with Carro flew round like a bird first dressing
her restless little feet. Rose sat before a rose- the tiny feet in white satin slippers, that surely
wood writing-desk, thickly strewn with manu- must have been handed down to her from Cin-
script. Her magnificent black hair was pushed derella, so small and beautiful they were.
back from the white temples, and the crimson Rose stood before the mirror, and as she
lips Were tightly compressed the sweet face
; gazed upon her own rare lovliness, she mur-
gearing a look of weariness and pain. The rich mured in a tone too low for Carro's busy ears
glow on her cheek almost shamed the bright " They tell me of my soul's lofty gifts, and yet
rose-colored dressing-gown which fell from the they could not win my love that would not
glistening shoulders. Her white hand almost chaiif/e." She removed the golden comb, and
flew over the paper till arrested by Carro. the glittering mass of shining hair fell rippling
" Rose, put away your writing, and let us to almost to her feet. She smoothed it with her
our toilet. Ernest will be here, and you know soft hand till it shone like the mirror in which
he dislikes to wait." she gazed, then the white fingers wandered
"I shall not go out to-night, but wUl assist through it and rapidly it grew into broad mas-
yon in one moment, Carro." sive braids, which she bound about her brow
"Rose Traverse, I don't love you one bit; in the shape of a coronet, and gathering the
you are too provoking!" And Carro flung whole into a heavy knot behind the task was
herself into a chair, saying: "I will not go done. She robed her beautiful form in a diess
unless you do that I am determined on. You of amber satin. She clasped a diamond neck-
want the Arlington a chance to win
to give lace upon her snowy throat, the bright, glitter-
from you the noblest heart the sun shines ing gems answering the light in her purplish
upon!" and glittering tears rolled over Cairo's black eyes. Taking from the wardrobe a white
bright face. silk opera-cloak, she tied it carelessly around
Rose left her seat, and in one moment her her neck, saying " Now, Carro, I am ready.
:

arms were around the loving girl. "Carro, I I willgo into the drawing-room and play over
do not wish to grieve you, and would rather go that new song till you come down."
with you than see these wasted tears. I do " Oh, Rose, how quickly you do dress. I am
not feel like going into a crowd to-night, and not near ready yet. Please Send Amy to me.
was very anxious to finish this manuscript, and I want her to dress my hair."
have it in the hands of the compositor at an Rose crossed to the servant's hall, and send-
early hour to-morrow besides, I have promised
; ing Amy to the tiny sprite who could not robe
to write a sketch for tlie Magazine, and her dainty limbs under an hour's time, she
you know I never fail to meet an engagement. passed into the drawing-room. The room lay
Ernest, too, he only comes because he deems it in shadow, lighted only from the hall. Rose
his duty, not from choice." sat down to the piano. Her soiig was mourn-
 THE WAR OF THE KOSES. 219

fully saJ, then the rich voice surged through
the lofty rooms, appealingly, almost wailingly.
Poor Rose, her heart caught the trick of the
song's sadness, and her head sank npon the
instrument, and bright tears fell upon the rich
dress. Ere she was aware, a voice thrillingly
low was whispering, "Rose, darling," and
movements and noble f.ice of his boyhood's
love, his manhood's idolatry, when a beautiful
hand was laid upon his arm, and dewy eyes
looked sadly into his own.
" Have you forcotten my presence, Ernest ?
Von have not sought me once to-night. Come,
let \Ts promenade, I have something to tell

passing his arm around her, the proud head you ;" and the arm of the syren was linked
was laid npon the breast of Ernest Clare, and within his own.
the sweet tear-stained face pressed against his Once more busy tongues were whispering of
own. Rose sought to free herself froin his em- his devotion to Miss Arlington, and sundry
brace, though her heart thrilled at the sound of black, bine, and gray eyes were directed to the
the loved voice, as does a harp-striug when too face of Rose Traverse. But the pride of Rose
rudely touched. suffered her to make no change in her de-
He led her into the hall binder the brilliant meanor. Her smile was sweet and calm as it
and gazed sadly npon the drooping
gas-light, ever w.13, and her step unfaltering.
head and snowy brow, and murmured, " Rose,
you are peerlessly beautiful to-night." Again Rost and Carro are seated by the fire
At this moment Carro came tripping down in the former's pleasant chamber. By mutual
the stairs. " I am happy to see you, Sir Knight consent the name of Ernest Clare was not
of the eaglo eye. Do I not look passing well, mentioned.
Lord Ernest? I me.an to walk straight into " You look weary and tired, Carro, .ind it is

the heart of Captain Acton to-night, so the Ar- one o'clock ; I think yon had better retire."
lington had best look to herself, or her harp "And you. Rose?"
will yet be '
hung upon the willows.' But here " I shall write to-night ; the spell is upon me,
is the carriage, let us to the banquet." and I could not sleep."
There was a baneful light in Rose Arlington's "Oh, Rose dear but Ishall not waste words,
eyes, as the cousins entered the room leaning my head aches dreadfully, so I will to bed, per-
npon the arm of the handsome, regal-looking chance I may dream of my brave captain ;"and
man she was trying to win from his allegiance. laughing merrily she said "good-night." A
The glorious beauty of Rose Traverse was ac- few- moments and the pretty head was laid
knowledged by all. A subdued murmur of npon the pillow, a few more, and the white
admiration followed her wherever she moved. lids closed wearily over the e3-es so like in hue
The heart of Ernest Clare was at rest he felt ; to the blue bells and violets of her own dear
that the eyes of Rose Arlington had lost their home.
spell. The "war of the roses" was like to And Rose ? Without disrobing she unlocked
end, our bright, crimson rose coming out vic- the writing desk, and. drew forth the unfinished
tor, though we must confess the "war" was manuscript rapidly the pen travelled over the
;

(as Carro said) all on the " Arlington's" side.
K'lV/ the war be at an end
? Time will show. It
is " pair of bright eyes with a dozen
said that a
glances suffice to subdue a man, to enslave him
they dazzle and bewilder him, so that the past
becomes forgotten."
Ernest Clare was happier to-night than he
had been for many weeks he determined to
; but a dreary plaint."
show Miss Arlington no attention in very
truth her eyes seemed to hare lost their spell,
overshadowed by the radiant beauty of our own
paper, and at last it was complete.
"And now for the promised sketch; what
shall it be ?" she soliloquized. " I must write
; it,though it be but half a column, for I have
given u\y promise. Ah me, how shall the
aching head and weary heart improvise m.atter
to ple.ase themultitude ? I fear me it will be
; 'Tis ever thus with earth's children. Like
Rose, they must labor on, though the pain at
their heart grows more unbearable the an- ;

bright Rose. But ah, who can compute the gnished face must wear a smile, the lip must
power that lies in curls of a golden hue, and be ever gay, lest the cold world should see,
eyes of melting softness ? The hand of Rose and the "lookers on in Venice" comment.
Traverse was claimed for a dance by a white- How little recks the world, as it reads and

haired hero of many battles. General G , either praises or condemns the writer how
one who admired her above all women, though we ask, do they who read know how oft
little,

his love for her was that of a father for his from an aching and deeply anguished heart,
child. Ernest stood watching the graceful those words have sprung, the bitterness of
220 GODEYS LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

whose lot no tongue can tell, over whose well- wings of the wind came floating the sweet!
nigh broken heart-strings sweep mighty sor- promises oi Ilbn whom, in her sorrow, she had
rows, whose path is encompassed ))y sorrow- forgotten. "Come unto me all ye that labor and
clouds for evermore, that path which perchance are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Ah^
their tender feet must tread alone ? Alone is how such promises upon thg
refreshingly fall

there not a volume in the word ? Can the heart storm-tossed soul Pour out thy soul in prayer^
I

not suffice to itself alone and unaided, can it sweet maiden far, far away, beyond j'on starry
;

not work out this mighty problem of life f Can-

dome up, up beyond the glorious clouds, where
not woman, like man, pour out the glorious the Deity sits enthroned, there, hard by the
beauty of her soul, and iu fame find happiness ? throne of Grace at the feet of God's gentle Son,
No, no, forever no Ah, 'tis sympathy and
1 pour out" thy woe Woe, did I say
I Could I

love a woman's heart craves. She longs for the spirit of mortals feel woe, while standing
love and tender care ; she longs to be protected even in thought in the "New Jerusalem!" Ah,
and watched over, else she droops, and the well may the stricken heart prostrate itself

brightness passes from her life forever, and before the Saviour, assured of sympathy, feeling
ends in eternal night. that through him the sweet stranger "peace"
All things must have an end.
Rose wrote will flutter down into that heart. He, the " man
the last word of the coveted sketch, sealed and of sorrows," who, in this our beautiful world,
directed it. Then she wrote a note to Ernest was reviled and persecuted by men Gethse- ;

Clare, releasing him from his vows, and giving mena's Lord, whose weary feet paced .Jerusalem,
back his jilighted troth. It was hard to give and whose own glorious head was bowed that
up the love of years, but she could not share a we might live, whose brow was encircled by a
divided heart. Throwing up the window she wreath of thorns, that we might keep the
knelt beneath it, inhaling greedily the pure air, flowers of Eden's garden to gem our pathway.
unmindful that the chill winter wind blew Remembering all tliis, canst thou not be patient f
upon her uncovered neck. The face wore a Vt'eep on and pray. O'er the grave of Laza-
weary look, and iu the deep eyes there slum- rus "Jesus wept," and o'er the sins of the
bered a wondrous woe. She had vowed to for- people He anguished. Remembering all this,

get Ernest could she f Wherefore, after the let thy proud head be bowed in adoration and
vow was made, did the lieart clamor for the in prayer, and thy passionate heart be stilled,

loved presence the gentle tones whose music and murmur again never more.
lingered everywhere ? The last months of winter passed wearily
"The night is glorious, but my heart is away. To Rose it seemed interminable. AU
breaking. Ah, Ernest, Ernest why should was at an end between Ernest Clare and her-
thine eyes come between me and the midnight self henceforth their path led down a different
;

heavens ? must I kneel forever beneath this current. Rose was content to have it so though ;

starry sky a mourner like to-night ? Tell the rich crimson of her cheek was fading, and
me, ye glittering stars, and thou, bright, cold her bounding step grew weary and slow, yet
moon, will happiness ever dwell in my heart she moved through her home cheerfully as of
again ? All 1 all is changed. And yet the old. In those happy days, when she knew
starry sky forms as bright a which dome as that herself beloved, these were blissful hours spent
canopied my head But ah, in childhood. in dreaming ; now she must keep herself busily
where are the joyous hopes, the happy light- employed, lest the sorrow at her heart should
heartedness that then Ah, filled my heart ? rise up and clamor to be heard. Ah ! the
the Gordian knot is wound too tightly about human heart is a stern tyrant, and the question
thee, poor heart my trembling fingers are pow-
; that has been asked and answered wailingly by
erless to unloose it. Ah, my wild invocation

many a heart was hers " How can I live with-
avails me naught ; the stars are silent and the out thee ?" At such hours she flew to the
moon sails majestically onward, and all is lost, only refuge that has power to still the soul's
'except a little life.'
"
tumult that of prayer and oh how soon her; !

After a storm, whether of the elements or heart grew calm, and her faith strengthened.
the human heart, there comes a calm. So it "As rivers of waters in a dry place ; as the
was with our mourner the moonlight fell upon; shadow weary land," came
of a great rock in a
the bowed head and the rich dress, and the the thought that, though the love of earth had
diamonds flashed back a mocking light beneath failed her, she had a Frieni whose love was
her rays. Rose, listening to the wind anthem, priceless, and who knew no change.
felt a calm descend upon her soul upon the ; Twice had letters come from Ernest Clare
 THE WAB OP THE ROSES. 221

filled with sorrow, renewing the vows so lately forgetful oft of Him who has said, " Thou shall
broken, pleading for the love he had so crnelly not make idols."
slighted ; but Rose was firm ; she conid not Rose stood watching the lovers. They were
rik this great sorrow a second time, lest her quiet enough now. Carro, with the arm she had
happiness should be shipwrecked forever- a few moments ago so saucily refused, thrown
more. around her. The fluttering heart was stilled
" Rose Rose come out npon the colonnade,
! ! now, listenini; to the low manly voice whose
do George is waiting to tell you something. music thrilled her soul. With a deep sigh
Oh, there is something so nice going to happen Rose entered the house, and the lovers stood in
to-morrow !" the gleaming till the stars came out.
Rose passed her arm around Carro, and the I repeat it again. Ah, these happy lovers'
two went out to where the brother and (shall daysl and I fancy many and many a heart
we peach ?) the lover stood waiting. It was a responds to the words.
lonely evening, and though the sweet sunset
glow had faded, the earth and sky were beau- " Wliat kind of a day is it, Viney ? Will it
tiful surely the evening breeze must have
; be pleasant for our ride ?" Thus spoke Rose
lately been kissing the flowers so fragrant and Arlington to her maid.
heavily-laden with sweets it came lightening ;
" Beautiful day. Miss Rose splendiferous for :

the load pressing the heart of Rose, and flut- your ride I"
tering the curls on Carro's sunny brow. " Hasten, then, Viney, and bring my break-
" Well, my brother, what is this great treat fast whilst I curl my hair."
Carro says you have in store for us ? I am all The prond beauty placed herself before the
curiosity." mirror, and thus soliloquized: "I must look
" Why, sister, we are going to have a riding my best to-day, for I do believe Ernest Clare is
party to the '
Clifl's' to-morrow. We start as growing weary of me, and mamma writes that
soon as the sun is n'p, and stay till evening, funds are low so I must try and bring my
;

take our dinner in the woods, and our tea at wealthy lover to the point this day. I believe
the famous sign of 'The Crolden Star.' Won't he loves that haughty Rose Traverse yet.
good old Mother Belton be in her element? Well, I shall make my last great eflbrt to-d.ay.

You will ride with Carro and I. Yon will go If he hears think of leavingrforhome. perhaps
I

for my sake, sister?" And George Traverse he may propose. I think the gentlemen in

drew his sister's head upon his breast, and mamma's native country are very cold of heart,
fondly kissed the white brow. or I should have won Ernest ere now."
" Yes, George, I will accompany you."
" Ah, Rosie, that is well now I am content. ; "Throw up the window, Rosie, and tell me
Come hither, little one don't be jealous. I of the sky. If it is a beautiful blue, and we
have room enough in my other arm to encircle can have our ride, I shall get up if not, I shall ;

your tiny waist." stay in bed and have the pouts."

" Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Impndence I ;
" It is a glorious morning, Carro. You had
am not anxious to have your arm about my better mount, aiid prepare for your ride to the
waist." far-famed '
ClifTs.' I feel almost happy this
" Then yon whether or not," and suit-
shall, morning, darling ; the very wind seems to
ing the action to the word, he flew after the bear npon its wings something exhilarating

laughing Carro, and soon captured her, press- and life-giving."

ing a lover's kiss upon the dewy
Ah, these happy lovers' days are surely the
sweetest se.a5on in life When the last thought !
at night and the first in the morning is the
blissful one
we are beloved when we sleep
and dream of somebodi/ when we dress and ,-
wear the colors that somebodi/ loves,
with eager eyes and a listening ear for the foot-
step of somebodi/ who is perhaps our all of earth
^our more than all of Heaven. I fancy this is
why there is so much of sorrow around our
earth-path that it is a punishment sent in
; thought George Tr.averse, for as she descended
rebuke of the wild love we bear the creature,
18*
lips. And well she might be happy, our sweet
Rose. The morn was beautiful one of those
bright mornings in early June, the sweetest
season in all the year, where summer's fairy
; sister, spring, hath so lately rested, leaving
even yet her breath among the flowers.
and watch Carro stood arranging her silken curls, as
George loved to see them. When the riding-
dress was donned, and the coquettish cap of
dark blue velvet laid upon the sunny curls, the
little maid looked wondrous winsome. So
the stairs he met. her, and drawing the little


222 godey's lady's book and magazine.

hand through his arm, he whispered: "You equestrians as glad as their " bonnie steeds"
are radiant this morning, and you are mine to turn their faces homeward.
mine." Several times during the day Ernest had
Though pearly tears trembled upon the long shown some courtesy to Rtfse, which she ac-
lashes as the caressing tones fell from his lips, cepted politely and calmly so calm indeed ;

the gypsy would not be entirely subdued.

little was her manner, that it froze the words of
"Excuse me, George Traverse, I am my own, entreaty trembling upon her lover's lips. He
not yours yet; and if you don't quit ruffling rode by the side of Miss Arlington sad and still

my hair, I shall be mine forever." Something so still that the fair Arlington wondered, and
closed the wee mouth. I wonder what it was ? pouted, and smiled by turns. How could he
As Rose made her appearance at the door, a smile and jest when his heart was shrouded in
portion of the party swept by on their way to gloom ? He was near the idol of his heart,
the "Cliffs," among whom were Rose Arling- could hear her sweet, low voice, and yet he
ton and Ernest Clare. The former drew up dare not seek her side. They were already in
before the door for the purpose of letting her sight other home, and soon even the solace of
rival see who was her companion. She made her sweet presence would be lost to him. At
a bad move by thus doing for this morning
; this moment one of the lingering couple came
Rose Traverse was gloriously beautiful. Ernest dashing by in a race recklessly they rode, and
;

Clare felt it, and his heart throbbed tempest- in passing struck the horse of Ernest Clare,
uously. Queenly Rose Traverse, thou art now who reared and sprang to one side, throwing
avenged for, as in the first days of thy love,
;
his unguarded rider upon a pile of sharp stones
so now the heart of thy lover is thine thy by the wayside. He lay perfectly still, with
lightest footfall, or the tones of thy voice fill the crimson blood flowing from his temples.
his soul with wild emotion. Fortunately they were near the house of Mrs.
Rose stood upon the marble steps waiting for Traverse, where he was immediately carried.
her brother. Her riding-dress was black, and
Rose Arlington screamed a pretty little scream
the graceful cap of black velvet was singularly and if she could have had a pair of lordly

becoming, with its long drooping plumes, wav- arms to support her, would have fainted as it ;

ing above the white brow. Ernest gazed upon was, she said the sight of blood always made
the noble face, and read there nothing; true, her ill, and rode onward alone. A physician
he could see the traces of a battle fought and was called, and an examination took place.
won, but naught he wished to see. The proud " Oh God, let him not die I" broke from the
beautiful lips quivered not ; could it be that pallid lips of Rose Traverse. " Is he dead,
upon those lips his kiss of betrothal had been Doctor? Tell me ! oh, tell me the truth !"
pressed ? His verygrew pale his life
lips ;
'
' No, not dead, I hope, but bruised and dread-
seemed like a helmless ship upon the angry fully injured. I fear for the result. Miss Rose."

sea all was lost, and he would have perilled Forgetful of the past, poor Rose bent over the
much to regain the love he had slighted. There prostrate form she drew the dear and noble
;

was anguish in his heart and on his face, as he
turned to Miss Arlington, and proposed riding
onward. Could the proud beauty have read
his heart, her face would have quickly lost its
wreath of smiles. But the end is not yet.
Merry songs and ringing laughter resounded
all day long through the old woods beneath
the "Cliffs," and, sadness dwelt in one or
if
head close to her heart, and pressed her lips to
the marred and bleeding brow. " Speak to
me, Ernest, speak but one word so handsome,
so proud and brave, why dost thou not an-
swer me ?"
Her voice must have had power to reach the
heart whose pulses beat so feebly, for the heavy
eyes unclosed and wandered about the room ;

two young hearts, none heeded it for the ; then, as memory returned, he comprehended
sweet lip of Rose wore the olden smile, and it all. A look of wild joy flashed over his face as
is not given to mortals to read the heart. he saw Rose, and, raising his unwounded arm,
Mother Belton, the merry hostess of "The he laid his hand upon the bright head.
Golden Star," laid before them a repast that " God bless you, my darling 1 I do not feel

would have tempted an anchorite, much less a my now."

happy, hungry crew like her guests. All too
soon evening came, and old Sol grew drowsy, and
prepared for going to rest behind the blue hills.
The gay cavalcade were soon mounted and
moving towards the city, some few of the weary
sufferings
His arm was broken, and many internal in-
juries were discovered. Rose held his hand
whilst the arm was set, pale, but firm wiping
the dew of suffering from the loved brow. Long
he lay in that shaded room, even till summer
 !

THE ^AR OP THE ROSES. 223

had grown towards its noon. Need we say that formed them, and h.as thus saved us the trouble
past sorrows were forgotten, or that the broken of tnruing our lieiids every time we wish to
TOWS were renewed ? view an object.
Although the eyes of some animals are in-
'Tis a month
the fated riding party
since cap.able of motion
as the fly, the beetle, and
returned so sadly. Ernest Clare has grown several other insects yet the Creator has
strong again, under the w.itchful care of liis shown His wisdom and goodness in furnishing
friends. Very be.autiful was our Kose this their eyes with thousands of little globules,
summer's owning in her pure white dress, and by placing their eyes more in front of
with blue and white violets twined among her their he.ad, so that these little iusects can see
glossy curls. A heavy gold ring is upon her almost all around them without turning their
slender finger, which tells a tale of happiness heads.
to come. A gentleman who
lias examined the eyes of
"You leave us to-morrow, Ernest? I shall a fly, two eyes of a common one
says, that the
miss you sadly." And her voice grew tremii- are composed of 8,000 little globes, through
loas with feeling. every one of which it is capable of forming an
" Yes, my
darling; hut soon I shall cill you image of an object. Having prepared the eye
my own then we will part no more forever."
; of the fly for the purpose, lie pl.aced it before
Reader, the " W.ir of the Roses" is ended. his microscope, and then looked through both,
Our Rose is the victor, and C.arro is happy. in the manner of the telescope, at a steeple
The Arlington has returned to her home in which was 209 fi-et liigli and 750 distant, and
disgust. he said he could plainly see through every
It is whispered that when the leaves fall, .1 little hemisphere, the whole steeple inverted or

double wedding will come off in the old Traverse turned upside down.
Mansion.

THE OLD BARN AT HOME.

HOW TOE EYE IS SWEPT AND WASHED. BY GEOKOE COOPER.
For us be able to see objects clearly and
to Oh, the olil t)arQ at home.
distinctly, it is necessary that the eye should Underneath wIiobo gray eaves
be kept moist and clean. For this purpose it Flocky of guy swallows built,
is furnished with a little gland, from which
And where lay golden sheaves,
"Where I played when a boy
flows a watery fluid (te.ars), which is spread
Through the bright livelong day,
over the eye by the lia, and is afterwards swept Comes in dreams to me now
off by it, and runs througli a hole in thebone Thoagb I 'm far, far away.
to the inner surface of the nose, where the On its floor gathered ronnd.
warm air, p.issing over it while breathing, eva- At the noon's sultry glow.
porates it. Ruddy cheelts, hardy hands,
remarkable that no such gland can be
It is All that health could bestow
While the song and the dance.
found in the eyes of fish, as the element in
And the old fiddle's tone,
which they live answers the same purpose. If Drove away every care
the eye had not been furnished with a liquid Till the noontide had flown.

to w.ash it, and the lid to sweep it off, things

In the proud city's whirl,
would appear as they do when we look through Where the mad crowd runs on.
a dusty glass. Where the races for place
Along the edges of the eyelid there are a And for power are won,
great number of little tubes, or glands, from
Oftmy thoughts wander hack
To the old barn at home,
which flows an oily substance, which spreads
With its wide open doors
over the surface of the skin, and thus prevents And its straw-mautlcd dome.
the edges from becoming sore or irritated, and
And a tear oft will fall
it alsohelps to keep the tears within the lid. That I cannot restrain,
1 There are also six little muscles attached to As I long to look on
the eye, which enable us to move it in every Its rough timbers again
direction and when we consider the On the bins heaped with grain.
; different
On the smooth cleanly floor,
motions they are capable of giving to the eyes,
That are lost but In dreams
we cannot but admire the goodness of Him who To my gaze evermore
 ;

JOHN BROAD.
How calm the night was The gray mistsI her to a boarding-school, and so " get the
were lying over the river asleep. I could hear polish on," mother said.
the roar of the waters faintly, as they came And the spring before, when the flowers were
rushing down over the great rocks, and then
gargled and pelted on through the rocky river-
budding around the old house, and the morn
iug-glories had begun to crawl up and throw
i
bed beneath my window, the ripples white and out their little arms and clutch the porch with
gleaming in the starlight. It was late. I heard their tiny fingers, and the warm breath of the
the whir of the old clock in the kitchen strike South began to whisper through the great
the hour of midnight. Kitty lay sleeping in wide branches of the old gaunt elm that stood
the little white curtained bed beside me, her in front of the house, Mr. Dalton came among
fair young face looking so white and pure like us.
the foaming waters of the river. He had come out from the city to get a breath
I gotnp and took down the heavy braids of of the fragrant air that played lazily through
black hair that had been twined like a serpent's our valleys in the summer
and galloped
time,
coils about my head. My glossy black hair like mad over the wild and threw the
hills,

was my pride, for in reality I had no beauty to
speak of. A pair of dull, blue, lustreless eyes
a complexion such as the tawny daughters of
the forest might be ashamed of and my great
broad hands and ungainly form. " Who could
ever love me?" I asked myself. And yet
away down in my heart, buried from the pry-
ing eyes of every one, I knew that there was
one dearer to me than all the earth beside. And
as if in answer to my thoughts, I heard a step
upon the gravel walk, and peeping behind the
curtain, I saw the tall form of Mr. Dalton
coming up through the lilacs, that shivered as
he passed and let fall their flowers at his feet
unheeded. Then I heard his firm step upon
snow into great heaps, and froze our fingers,
;
and painted our noses in winter. And mother
took him to board, because he had fallen in
; love with the old weather-stormed house that
had such an air of quiet good-nature about it.
And we had given him the south chamber
and every day after the flowers began to open
and show their little red faces, Kitty had
plucked him a bouquet and placed it upon the
broken stand in his room in the little vase that
Uncle Robert had given her upon her last
birthday.
We all grew to like him, he was always so
agreeable. And he used to help Kittywith
her lessons and then in the evening, when
;

the stairs, and the closing of his room door, and
again all was still. Tlien I sat down by the
window again, twining my long hair around
my arms, and looking out to the great dim,
dingy mill, wliere the watchman's light could
be seen flitting from one room to another as he
the noisy old mill lay quiet in the soft moon-
light, that would gild it till it seemed like
some fairy castle, we would sit in the doorway,
and he would sing to us in his clear, deep
voice tliat would charm me into forgetfulness of
self, till mother would come and tell us children

went his lonely round among the black and that it was late, and we would get np and go
dismal wheels and beams of the machinery. to our rooms with the strange melody ringing
I was a weaver in the old mill, where, from in our ears.
the gray, misty light of the morning, til) the I said we all liked him ; but there was one,
great black curtain of night came down and shut the lair sleeper, heart was looking
whose little

us in, I had worked since I was a little, wee up and asking a return of the great,
to his
girl. powerful love that it was pouring out. Her
Mother was poor, and father died long, oh, heart was such a one as never loves but once.
long ago ] so long that I could just remember Hearts are not all alike any more than heads.
when they had borne him away in that black- And with these thoughts I crept into bed beside
shrouded colBn and then mother took me in
; and lay and watched the great, laughing
Kitty,
her arras and kissed me and said: "Poor moon come up and peep in upon us, and play
little Nettie has no father now " I had made !
with her golden tresses that fell in ruflles of
good wages, and we had managed to keep the beautiful confusion down over the snowy pil-
old brown house where I was bom. Mother low.
wanted to make a lady of Kitty, and we had The old mill-bell was ringing when I awoke
both worked the harder that we might send next morning, and I could hear the short, quick
224
 JOn^ BROAD. 225

steps of tlie men and women harrying on to sat looking otit of the window like one in a
tlieir l.tboi-s. Then I got up and kissed the dream.
rosy lips of the sleeper as tliey murmured in "Yes; but I'm coming back again in the
drt>auis, and weut out and joined in the throng autumn," he replied, looking at Kitty and
that was liastening to the mill. John Broad smiling.
W.1S standing in the door-way, with a great I felt something strike my heart like a dag-
8unuy smile ruuning over his rough-hewu Tice, ger. How deep it seemed to cut Was I in I

and a whole world of kindness beaming in his love with this man f

eyes. All the afternoon, in the clash of the busy

" Good-morning, Nettie," said he, as I passed looms, I worked .and thought. I had dreams,
into the mill, and npthe damp, creaky stairs to but then, why should I recount them ? Why
my work. should I, with my great, coarse face, so unlova-
answered Vim with a smile, for I knew that
I ble, stand in the w.ay of Kitty's happiness ?
for years he had waited at the old mill-door in Mother had wished Kitty to be a lady, and she
tlie morning till I came, and then would go to would, now, for Mr. Dalton w.as rich. And so
his work and be happy all d.ay. the long afternoon wore away, and we went
We had been children together, and many out from the close, dusty rooms that were
were the cold winter days he had taken me stealing the bloom from so many cheeks, and
to school on his sled, and wrapped his cloak grinding the features down so thin and sharp.
around me to keep out the frosty darts that Well, the bright summer passed, and the
were shooting around us in the still morning long, sad autumn evenings came, and the cold
air. And John loved me then, and it had winds moaned around the old house and made
grown with him, althongh be had never told it the great leafless elm sigh and swing his gaunt
to me. arms wildly to and fro like some giant in des-
Could I love him ? I did not then, for I did pair.

not know how to appreciate him but I learned ; And John, who owned a little farm over the
after. other side of the mountain, and had Aunt
But .Tohn didn't wer the same happy smile Sally, .as we used a housekeeper,
to call her, for
;
that he was wont to do before Mr. Dalton came, for she was always so kind to us when we were
; and I 've seen him pass our house of a Sund.ay children, and used to give us such great plump
evening and look up to^he windows so mourn- rosy -cheeked apples John would drop in of .an

fully. And sometimes he 'd come round to the evening, and sit down beside mother in the
kitchen, and sit with mother till the sun would chimney corner, and talk with her in his great
I roll down out of sight behind the woods, and rough voice, never daring to look at me, as I
1 then he 'd go on home over the little foot-bridge sat at the table knitting. Sometimes he 'd
. below the mill, stopping to look down where bring in a little white snow-flake of a letter for
' the little fish were darting about in the san'a Kitty,and she 'd run up and kiss his broad,
I good-night beams, and stealing at the same shaggy face, and then trip out of the room,
. time a glance back towards the old house. singing so cheerily, .and go up to her own little
, When I went home at noon, Kitty and Mr. chamber, and pore over the contents of the
! Dalton were just coming into the yard from a letter till bedtime.
ride off into the country. But by and by the letters came less frequent-
j
" Oh, we 've had such a splendid ride, Net- ly, and when they did come, they were
" short
Itie!" she cried, as Mr. Dalton helped her out and cold," Kitty s.aid. And often I would find
j
of the carriage. " We 've been to N ; and her lying awake in the middle of the night, her
I
oh, Nettie ! see the pretty ring that Mr. Dalton blue eyes wide open, looking aw.ay off back to
bought for me," she continued, coming forward those happy days of the summer time, and the
',
and putting her little arms around me and gre.at tears rolling down her white cold cheeks.
leading me into the honse. " Is it not pretty ?" Thanksgiving came, and John brought up a
" Very," I replied.. " An engagement ring, bouncing big turkey from his farm that he h.ad
perhaps," and I looked up at Mr. Dalton who " raised hisself.all on corn and sich like," and
had followed us into the house. His face made mother a present p( it. But it was no
flushed slightly, but he s.aid nothing. Thanksgiving was lying sick
for ns, for Kitty
" Oh, no, it 's only a keepsake. Mr. Dalton in mother's room, and the doctor came every
is going home to-morrow, you know." day, and shook his head, and went away with-
" Are yon ?" I inquired, turning to him as he out giving ns any encouragement.
226 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

Kitty received no letters then. They had watching them ; her pale face looking ghastly
ceased, and with them went her merry laugh in the iiickeriug lamp-light. John sat there
and bright smiles. And she looked so sweet beside the bed, and mother was on the other
and sad, just as I 've thought the angels did side, with her face buried in her hands, and
in their purity. the great sobs heaving up from her heart. And
John came to the house a great deal after by and by the moon came lap over the pines,
Kitty was taken sick, for there was so much and looked in, and played with Kitty's hair as
that he could do to help us, and he would have on that night so long ago, and he turned all
run his great, thiok, clumsy boots and himself, the gold to silver. Then Kitty turned her blue
in fact, all to shoe-strings for mother and me. eyes up to me, smiling, and seeming so happy,
And one night, as he stood at the door with and when I put my head down on the bed, she
mother, heard him talking about Mr. Dalton.
I whispered, "I am going, sister." And it seemed
I couldn't hear all they said, but John was as if came dojvn and kissed
the Angel of Death
Tery bitter against him and then mother told
; the pale rosies from her lips. I laid my hand

him that that wasn't the right spirit, and that gently on her heart, but it had ceased to beatdbi
we should forgive as we would be forgiven. But And John came .and put his arms around me,tl
John couldn't think so, and he went oS growl- and drew me out of the room, leaving mother
ing to himself. sobbing and kissing the cold lifeless lips.

I don't know why, butbegan to like JohnI That was a sad time for us. And, after the
better after that. I used to compare him to funeral was over and the friends had gone, John
Mr. Dalton. To be sure, he hadn't Mr. Dal- came and stayed with us, so that he might help
ton's handsome face and gentlemanly manners. me, for motlier couldn't do anything then but
He was very coarse and uncouth, j'ou would sit in the chimney corner, with the great Bible

say; but with his good-natured face and great lying open upon her Lap, and cry. She had
swelling heart, that was almost too big for his loved Kitty so much, that when she came to be
broad, deep chest, I thought him more of a taken away, she broke right down, and the
gentleman, and more worthy of a true woman's great furrows in her face grew deeper and deeper
love than many others who make more preten- every day.
sions. Then the snow came and covered all I don't know how we ever got through that
the fields, and shone all so white and radiant winter, and we couldn't but for Jolm for the ; j

over on the mountain. And Kitty would look hard times came on, and the mill stopped, and !

out of the window at the merry sleighing parties 80 I didn't have any work, and it had cost us, I

that went carolling by, and sigh, while the when Kitty was sick, all that we had saved i

tears would gather in her great blue eyes, that before. But by and by the snows went away,
had become so wild and sunken. all excepting some little patches that lay in

" She won't be with us a great while longer," behind the rocks .and up on the mountain, till
said John to me one night, looking towards the spring came and looked in upou them, and )

bedroom door and then he wiped his eyes

; melted them with her soft eyes.
with the back of his hand, and continued :
Mother grew somewhat better as the skies
"Well, I always thought she was a mighty grew brigliter .and she would sit and talk to
;

sight too good for this rough world," and h^ lit John in the evenings, as she had used to do
his pipe while a tear run down and glittered in before the s,ad d.ays came. And Sunday even-
his beard and then he bid me "good-night,"
;
ings we 'd walk over to Kitty's grave, mother
and went out through the snow over the moun- leaning on Jolm's arm, and looking up to him
tain. with such a fond expression on her withered
And Kitty grew worse and worse, and the face as .almost m.ade me jealous, for I had cast
came to be like the snow so white
little face out the old love then.
and cold-looking. And mother went about the One warm bright morning, when the yonng
house just like a ghost, and in the night I grass was looking up at me with its dewy eyes,
could hear her praying. I had wandered down to tlie little brook back

What a dismal The wind

night it was I of the house, where the sunbeams were pryijig
shrieked wide chim-
.and gro.aned in the great the white open, and letting their fragrance
lilies

ney, and clattered the windows, and tlien went gush and mingle with the breezes. The
fortli

shrieking off down among the pines in the laborers were working aw.ay off in the fields,
swamp. And little gray clouds were scudding singing, while the ring of their hoes kept time
across the sky, and the little stars sat shiver- to the melody.
ing out in the cold. Kitty lay there so calmly I was leaning over the bank and looking
 HEROINES. 227

down iuto the clear waters that reflected back amount of misery he will bring
calculate the
tay great ugly face, the ripples distorting tUe upon your head for he is both cruel and in-
;

features, aud uiakiog me look ivonie than I consistent. He singles out his victim, intro-
dill, when I saw another face smiling up out duces her to the world, sets forth her merits,
of the waters, and then I felt a strong arm enlist^ every one's sympathies in her favor,
around me, aud I looked up at John, and he and then proceeds to torment her in every pos-
kissed me for the fii-st time in his life. Then sible way. For this purpose he employs the
John asked me something in so low a voice whole force of his in^jenuity and malice. If
that I didn't hardly hear it ; but I guessed she is rich, he squanders her estate no reck-
wh.it it was, and laid my head down on his less spendthrift could ever make money fly
breast,aud heard his great heart beating against faster than he does. If she has a fond, doting
my cheek. And then we walked up to the father, ever ready to gratify her slightest wish,
house together, John's arm around me. And the author manages to obtain a private inter-
mother looked up over her spectacles when we view with him, and lo The old gentleman's1

went in, and smiled and we went and knelt

; heart is turned to stone. Has she been left to
down beside her, and she placed her hands the tender mercies of a guardian ? Straight-
upou our heads, and whispered " God bless : way, with the author's full knowledge and con-
you, my children."
sent nay, at his instigation even, he seeks to
force upon her affections his graceless and un-
acceptable nephew. Now the author knows,

HEROINES. even if the guardian does not, that her affec-

tions are no longer under her control, that she
Br ArocsTA H. woethe:?.
has already made choice of a lover every Way
Not such commonplace affairs as Joan of Arc suited to her taste ; is it not the height of
or Grace Darling, but the heroines of novels cruelty, then, for him to give Ms countenance
and newspaper stories it is of their wrongs that to such a scheme ?

I propose to treat ; for them
Kow the spirit of reform seems to be very active
in the world. Reformers everywhere are so
numerous, that it seems as if every kind of
abuse and wrong-doing were in a fair way to
be raked open. Almost every community can
boast of one or more of those energetic individ-
uals, whose special mission it is to right other
people's wrongs. Yet I have waited in vain
to see some bold spirit stand forth in defence
of that class of unfortunates, whose name is
placed at the head of this article. I do not
I offer my plea. He contrives to separate her from her lover,
distracts her mind by whispering that he will
probably transfer his affections to some fair one
nearer at hand, .and so the plot thickens. About
this time various friends become distrustful,
and give her the cold shoulder. One attached
servant, however, remains faithful ; without
her aid our heroine would occasionally be
brought to the level of a commonplace drudge.
You might suppose she had now suffered
enough to render her perfect in all the Christian
graces but such was not the object of the dis-
;

use the term unfortunate without consideration.
Of course if these persons are, in any degree,
ambitious of distinction, it must be gratifying
to be brought before the public, attractive and
beautiful as they are invari.-iUy made to appear,
and, in most cases, dressed in costly and be-
coming apparel, for which they neither
Bpiu. Still further to encourage
ity,there is the author ever at hand, ready to
poiut out their manifold perfections. But can
cipline she has received. She never needed it,
in fact, for she, unlike other mortals, was good
enough to begin with. And yet the cruel au-
thor has not half done with her. Now, when
she has so much need of physical strength to
sustain her under her mental sufferings, he
toil nor puts her on a short allowance of food. Not
woman's van- but that he makes a pretence of setting abund-
ance before her, or sends her faithful servants
to do it good food, too, such as you or I could
:

this alone be considered sufficient compensation eat at any time, but the nicer it is, the less she
for all they are compelled to suffer ? 1 do not eats of it. He won't let her eat; he only sets
believe it can. it before her to tantalize her.
In the first place, it must become tedious to be
If all that authors relate of their heroines
be obliged constantly to maintain that high true, and I they never eat as
suppose it is,

standard of excellence which is expected from much solid food as would keep a chicken alive.
one who is always before the public. And it They take some tea, however but they only ;

is really no light thing to fall alive into the swallow it they never drink it as people do
:

bauds of a story-writer you can never exactly

; when they are dry. Their emotional organs
228 godey's lady's book and magazine.

are so continually wrought upon, that nearly this distressing uncertaintyis, we may presume,

everything chokes them. as hard to bear as any of her other afflictions.

I remember a story published a few years From a careful observation of different cases,
ago in one of the Weeklies, wherein the hero- I have arrived at the conclusion that heroines,

ine suffered all manner of trials for more than as a class, have degenerated physically. They
'

five years, and during all that time I could not do not, on an average, live so long as in former
ascertain that she ate anything but " toast times. When you read a modern novel, it is

done to a turn." Sometimes she refused even best not to risk your peace of mind by becom-
that but I never wondered much that she
; ing much attached to the heroine ; the chances

did toast is good but being the sole article
; are about ten to one that she will never live
on her
bill of fare, I suppose she got tired of it. to see the end of it. Does not this show a
According to custom, the author made a show great want of calculation in the writer ? Why
of ofieriug various niceties for her acceptance ;
manufacture such a delicate piece of china, and
but she always sent them away untouched ;
then shatter it. Why assume the responsibility
he never meant she should eat them, and she of conducting so frail a vessel, when he knows
knew it, and acted accordingly. It is quite it can never keep together long enough to

probable that her faithful servant fared well reach its destined port ? Does he suppose it
about that time. can be any pleasure to us to look on, and see
Semi-starvation is hard enough ; but the it go down?
measure of her physical sufferings is not yet Setting metaphor aside, does not justice
full. With malignant ingenuity her tormentor demand that in the case of these interesting
now contrives ways to deprive his victim of young ladies, some milder form of treatment
necessary sleep. If the tea she has been per- should be adopted Yes, justice, for are they
!

mitted to take (for this very purpose, I have not invariably free from all offence, actual or
not doubt) does not prove sufficient, her many intentional ? Do they not, under all circum-
woes are sent to hold a midnight dance arouud stances, preserve their spotless innocence 1

her couch. " Not to put too fine a point upon it," do they
In ordinary oases, the endurance of months, deserve the treatment they receive ?
perhaps years, of such persecutions would be But supposing they do, ought we, the readers,
considered sufficient apology for the loss of to be made to sufi'er by it ? It has been observed
personal beauty. But this young woman is that the Esquimaux, in the frozen wastes of
denied even the poor privilege of looking as British America, cannot strike his dusky mate
bad as .she feels. So under all her trials, but the whole world feels the blow ;
probably
knowing what is expected of her, the unoffend- by a process similar to that the same individ-
ing creature contrives to "look lovelier than ual employs in the management of his dog-
ever." It is wonderful that she can do it it team. He strikes the one next the sledge, who
seems impossible, nevertheless she does it. instantly takes the hint and bites his nearest

I suppose there are some prosaic persons who neighbor, who bites the next, and so on till

will tell me that I am making a plea for mere each one gets his share of "coercion."
non-entities that these young ladies never Now the pernicious influence of the constant
had, and never will have any actual existence ;
exhibition of literary cruelty must be wide
but it is my opinion they are solemn realities. spread and deep. Its hardening effect upon
, do not think I should have spoken, if I
Still I the already hard-hearted author is very appa-
had not perceived their condition to be every rent he is never so well pleased as when he
;

year growing worse. In former times, no sees he can make you weei5. Upon the reader
matter how many tears were shed during the the effect is always more or less painful this
perusal of a novel of three volumes, the last rehearsal of sorrows we have no power to re-
chapter made amends for all. The old fashioned lieve. Why should we any longer disquiet
novels always "came out well." Whatever trials ourselves iu vain ? Why be so prodigal of
the heroine had to bear, she had one thing at tears, whose saltness can avail nothing what-
least to sustain her ; she knew she might de- ever ? Would it not be better to strike at once
pend on a blissful marriage at last. This com- to the root of the matter, by appealing to the

forting assurance,no doubt, often kept the frail author of all the trouble ? He may not be en-
creature from fainting by the way. tirely beyond our influence.
But now the course of events is changed The spirit of the present age is opposed to

somewhat the heroine never knows what to

; cruelty, in all its forms. Its voice is every-
expect she may marry, and she may not, and
; where heard pleading for the defenceless. Let
 ;
; ;

THE BIGHTS OF WOMEX. POETRY. 229

us hope that even aHthors will hear it at last, comet, daunting and perplexing other systems,
that the gall and wormwood, upon which they but as the pure star, which is the first to light
mostly regale theraselTes, shall, at no distant the day, and the last to leave it. If she shares
day, be exchanged for the milk of human kind- not the fame of the ruler and theblood-shedder,
Dess. Will you tell me that we need sometimes her good works, such as "become those who
to forget ourselves in the contemplation of profess godliness," though they leave no " foot-

other people's sorrows Most certainly wedo

? ;
prints on the sands of time," may liud record
but if the day of which I spoke should ever ar- iu the " Lamb's book of life."
rive, and we should find ourselves in danger
of becoming torpid and unfeeling, for want of
an object to call forth our sympathies, perhaps
acquaintance with some destitute widow, orsuf- TRANSPLANTED.
fering child, or lonely old man, might supply
BY W. DEXTER SMITH, JE.
the needed excitement. If we have a few sur-
plus tears to shed, perhaps we might be moved
Where the violets are uoddin^,
Smiling' in tiie gentle brepze,
thereto by the sight of misery in our own
Where tiie zepliyrs sing sweet carols
streets and lanes and perliaps, who knows ?
; As they dance among the trees
perhaps your own kitchen servant may have Where the little songsters warble
some of the elements of the heroiue iu lier From the dewy morn till night.
There we laid our darling Minnie
rough composition.
Evermore from mortal eight.

She was fairer than the snnheams

That our daily path illume,
THE RIGHTS OF WOMEN. And her voice was like sweet music
la our home where now is gloom :

Tberb is much clamor in these days of Angels saw our child, and, watching
progress respecting a grant of new rights, or Beclv'ning to our darling prize,

an extension of privileges for our sex. A Bore her to their home in heaven
To the land beyond the skies.
powerful moralist has said that "in conten-
tions for power, both the philosophy and
poetry of life are dropped and trodden down."
Would not a still greater loss accrue to domes- EVENING.
tic happiness, and to the interests of well-bal-
BT CATHARIKE MITCHELt.
anced society, should the innate delicacy and
prerogative of woman, as woman, be forfeited Day declines
The last bright tinges of the setting sun,
or sacrificed ?
That robed iu splendor the gray, rifted clouds.
" I have given her as a helpmate," said the
And gilded the surrounding scenery
voice that cannot err, when it spoke unto With crimson drapery fiinged with burnished gold,
Adam, in the cool of the day, amid the trees Have gently faded from the western skies ;

of Paradise. Not as a toy, a clog, a wrestler, The soft reflections from the greenwood side.
Seen in the bosom of the clear blue waters
;a prize-fighter. No, a helpmate, such as was
They, too, have vanished like amorning dream.
fitting for man to desire, and for woman to The winds are hush'd;
Ibecome. The shades of evening gather, dark'ning fast,
Since the Creator has assigned different And o'er the highland floats a shadowy cloud.

spheres of action, for the different sexes, it is

Soaring away above the distant hills
The feathered songster seeks her downy nest
tto be presumed, from his unerring wisdom,
In the dark pine that crowns its rocky height
that there work enough in each department
is
On yon tall tree that bends above the river,
to employ tliem, and that the faithful perform- Whose boughs seem shattered by the wintry storms.
'ance of that work will be for the benefit of Sits the lone night-owl, looking o'er the brake.

(both. he has made one the priestess of the

If Where the mute partridge and his timid mate
Stand ready to conceal their little beada
inner temple, committing to her cliarge its
Under the sedgy grass.
uurevealed sanctities, why should she seek to Time moves apace
Itningle in the warfare that may thunder at its A dusky curtain droops around the scene.
!;ates, or rock its torrents ? Need she be again Wrapping the forest tops in deepening gloom ;

tempted by pride or curiosity, or glowing words, No moon breaks forth, no twinkling stars appear
'.0 barter her owu Eden
To guide the weary traveller on his way.
f
And all is settled into murky night,
The true nobility of woman is to keep her But sdothing hope awaits the dawning light
)wn sphere, and to adorn it ; not, like the To gladden nature with her cheerful beams.
VOL. LXVII. 19
 THE PUESUIT OF WEALTH UNDEE DIEFICULTIES.
A LIFE SKETCH.
Br ETTIE ELTON.

CHAPTER I. provoked at the presentation of these distress-

DARK HOPES. ing ideas ; but I know that if I should bluster

around, and cry a little, I could get an entire
" I WANT a new carpet for this parlor," soli-
new set of furniture, besides china and silver ;
loquized Mrs. Peabofly, as she surveyed the
but cry, eh ! I '11 not do that ; and as to blus-
somewhat rusty ingrain, whicli had covered
the same room for years " and I want it to be ;
tering, I hav'n't the heart to do it he 's so
kind."
Brussels or velvet; I'm tired of these cheap
things. Yes, and a new set of curtains" and at It is impossible to say how long Mrs. Peabody

the same moment she put tidily back into their would have soliloquized thus, had she not been
gilt loops the snowy muslins which graced her interrupted by the approach of her two little
parlor windows. Then, turning to arrange the girls, just returned from school ; and, as the
books upon the table, she continued " And a :
little Delia threw down her suubonnet upon
book-case, too, and then a library I 'm heart- the nearest chair, she declared that she was
sick of waiting for wealth. The best I can do hungry, and went hopping away to the kitchen,
with books upon a table, they 're forever askew her golden curls dancing over her snowy little
and awry. I 've had the promise of a wing on neck and shoulders, like a bevy of fairies on a
the north side expressly for a library but when ;
moonlit evening in June.
on earth he '11 get around to build it Madame Jennie, who had arrived at the dignified age
Prewster or some other prophetess will have to of eleven years, sat down, and gravely inquired
tell
I can't. Pity the old fables about genii when dinner would be ready.
weren't true, and a pity I hadn't an old lamp " Pretty soon," responded the mother. "But
to rub. It seems as if some people have. Now what makes you look so troubled, my child ?
there's the Dunhams: they hav'n't been in One would think you had as many cares as a
business any longer than Erastus, and they 're matron of forty."
living in graudvStyle : furniture of satin brooa- " Well, ma, I never shall get through my
tel, velvet carpets, gilt chandeliers and the arithmetic in the world ; as sure as I live, I

goodness only knows what they hav'n't got. hav'n't recited this and to-day when I
week ;

Everything that heart can wish. And here I asked Mr. Birch to assist me, he sent me to
go, with bonnet out of fashion, trying to make that sleepy-eyed Hodge girl, and she told me a
two seasons and when they are making
it last ; great lingo about multiplying the numerator
up glacts and antiques by the wholesale, I am by the denominator, and if that didn't get the
away in my back sitting-room, without even answer, to try dividing the denominator by the
the help of a dressmaker, trying to conjure up numerator and I did try them every way, but
;

something new out of old dresses that have not a single answer could I get."
been on the docket half a dozen years, turning " Well, child, bring home your book to-
them upside down, and down side up, and in- night, and I '11 help you out of your troubles."
side out, and outside in then after all my eco-
; Just then the little Delia came trijiping in,
nomy, I have to hear the same old story. with a piece of cake partly in her hand and
Whenever I ask for something I really need, partly in her mouth, with a childish expression
Erastus will say Oh yes, my dear, you need
:
'
of thoughtfulness upon her face.
a great many things.' And then I know that " Well, darling, what are your troubles at
at the close of business hours I shall have to school ?" said her mother.
be entertained with the information that our "Nothing. Where's Kitty?" was the sig-
expenses for the last month have exceeded our nificant response.
income, and listen again for the ten thousandth "Nothing!" repeated the literary Jennie.
time to the gentle hint, that if we ever lay up ' " No wonder, for she hasn't read since I can
anything, it must be done while we are young.' remember."
If I did not know that all this is true, and that " Why, what does it all mean ? Go to school
Erastus is tlie kindest and best man in the and not read or recite for a week Money paid 1

world, I 'd flare up some time when I get so for tuition, and nothing received in return but
230
 THE PURSUIT OP WEALTH UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 231

the rent of hard seats This is Western inde-

! forbear ; and it was in the conflict between
pendence with a vengeance. Now, Jennie, do these opposing principles in her nature, that we
you tell Mr. Birch that I want you to recite find her in the unpleasant mood of this morn-
every day. What in the world does he busy ing. And now, as if Dame Fate would heap
himself about t" care upon sorrow, the deficiencies in the lite-
"Oh, he hears all the large scholars; and rary enterprise of Flintville present themselves
just before school is out every day, he tells us to her for contemplation.
that he is sorry that he liad to omit so many When Mrs. Peabody was Miss Janctt Blake,
lessons to-day, and that next term he will have she was a school-teacher not one of those who
an assistant but I 'd like to know what we
; fl.ash around, comet-like, causing people to
are going to do this term ?" wonder why they were ever created at all, but
" Well, Jennie, I'll go down this very after- one who seemed to be such by intuition. She
noon, and see if I can't make some arrangement taught because she could not help it. It was
with your teacher and go now, dear, and
; but a pastime for her to deliver to others the
brush up a little for dinner." gems thought which were so abundant in
of
The sound of "An' sure itsh dinner ish the casket of her memory. And now, that she
ready" now issued from a red face peeping in was the mother of two charming daughters,
from the dining-room, causing the little feet to she was both grieved and vexed to think that
scamper in that direction, and soon all were their education was almost wholly neglected
seated at the table enjoying the repast as well in a school which was pronounced " good" by
83 'twere possible in the absence of the husband the ruling geniuses of the aspiring little town
and father,who was gone to the gre,it com- in which she lived.
mercial city for a new supply of goods. The dinner w.^s over, the children had re-
As the brightest month in the year has some turned to school, and Mrs. Peabody had taken
cloud-darkened days, so there are days in the her accustomed seat by the window, and re-
lives of all persons, even the most cheerful, sumed her work upon the little merino skirt
when everything will seem to go entirely wrong she was embroidering for Delia. Autumn winds
and the day in which our story commences were sighing the silvery ight of an October sun
; 1

was such a one to Mrs. Peabody. She was one fell soft and beautiful upon the forest trees,

of those h.appy dispositions whose lives are decked as they were in a "garment of a thou-
decidedly sunny. Naturally energetic, and sand dyes." The purple dahlia bowed its head
rendered more so by the activities of Western to the kisses of the breeze, and the weeping wil-
life, she had learned to rise above the effemi- low at the front door waved its pendant branches
nate delicacy so common among the ilile of over the death couch of nature. All conspired
American women and while she mingled with
; to throw a shadow over the usually sunny
them, a detestation of anything of its kind heart of Mrs. Peabody and she laid aside her
;

sprang up in her nature, and gave her a lofty work as if a new thought had burst upon her'
independence of character which, mingled with mental vision, donned her bonnet and shawl,
a refined mind, and a love of the beautiful, and in a few moments stood at the door of Mr.
cannot fail to command respect, even of the Birch's school-room.
most fastidious. She was invited in, where were about sixty
But who, alas are without their weak points ?
I pupils of both sexes, varying in capacities from
and on this day Mrs. Peabody seemed to pre- the child of five years, to the man and woman
dominate. She had been thinking for the last of twenty, all under the supervision of one
six months that, when her liusband should ineflicieut teacher in the person of Mr. Birch.
make his nest Eastern trip, their old furniture He looked perplexed when he saw her, and
should give pUace to an entire new set, which seemed confused while she talked of her anxi-
should not only equal, hut rival the " Duu- ety in relation to her children's progress. He
ham's." But alas! how were her hopes blighted told her that he hoped to find an assistant for
when she was informed that their circumstances the next term to take charge of the ladies'
would not allow the exchange at present She I department, and then ample justice should be
knew that her husband was judicious, and done to all.
reliedwith implicit confidence upon all he said ;
The present term was nearly closed, and Mrs.
and she well knew, too, the power of her in- Peabody, moved with sympathy for the care-
fluence over him therefore, while her pride
; worn teacher, resolved to wait patiently the
tempted her to persuade him to make the pur- arrival of that time after which she would
;

chase at all hazards, her judgment bade her teach her daughters at home. She retraced
 :

232 godey's lady's book and magazine.

her steps homeward, and was again seated
the north window of her sitting-room, plying
her needle upon the beautiful merino.
What were all her reveries we do not ven-
ture to surmise ; but we fancy she looked into
the shadowy future, upon the picture of her
little mingled pleasure and pain.
school, with
She well knew how it would rob her of her best
hours, if she would do justice to their instruc-
tion, and she murmured, half aloud, that "the
t:ix would be equally as great as the superin-
tendence of twenty-five scholars. Why can't
I," she mentally soliloquized,
"take a situa-
tion in a school and done with it?
Then I can
be paid for my trouble. Ha, ha, yes and ; distracted thoughts.
then I can buy my own furniture." It was a
at formed the lady that the object of his call was
to inquire of her if she knew any one whom
she could recommend to him for an assistant.
Knowing that she was acquainted with many
teachers, he felt that her recommendation
would be a sufficient guarantee of their ability.
She hesitated. Her heart fiuttered like a
prisoned bird her pride whispered of the old
furniture,and quick, as if some fairy's wand
had passed through the room, fancy painted
marble tables, velvet carpets, and in the vision
she was half bewildered. " I have been think-
ing of teaching, myself, this winter," she re-
plied, half trembling at the confession of her
" I do not know what
Mr. Peabody would think of it but this after-
;

passing thought, an ethereal castle, but such, noon it has been running through my mind that
alas, oft deceive their builders, and prove their I could, with the aid of faithful servants in the
8ubtlety when it is too late. house, find time for six hours of teaching each
day."
Mr. Birch looked both pleased and amazed
at the unexpected announcement, and said
CHAPTER ir.
"Perhaps I can best secure your influence by
THE AIR CASTLE BUILT. engaging you as preceptress in my school. I
The shades of evening were falling
upon the would give you a partnership or a salary, as
sere earth. Mrs. Peabody had drawn close to might best suit you. And if we could make
her side her darling children, and while the the arrangement, I have no doubt but we
little Delia nestled her head, covered with its would have at least a hundred scholars, and
rich golden curls, in her mamma's lap, and we would just run a partition through the hall,
smoothed with one hand the Maltese kitten and give the girls one department and the boys
which stood purring at her side, Jennie read the other, thus rendering it both pleasant and
aloud in a clear, soft voice, "The Lay of the convenient."
Last Minstrel." Although Mrs. Peabody had A
few words more and the terms were agreed
read it over and over many times in her early upon
the bargain consummated and Mr. ;

life, yet the spectres of " Old Michael" seemed Birch departed with the understanding that,
to loom up before her inthe deep twilight of unless Mr. Peabody should particularly object,
the distance. The elfin page and tlie wounded the Flintville High School would commence
knight were all visioned in her fancy, and she its third term on the tenth day of October,
felt a sensation of horror creeping over her. under the supervision of Mr. D. M. Birch and
A loud ringing of the door-bell seemed a for- Mrs. J. C. Peabody.
tunate change of subject, and the group awaited
its answer by Katy in almost breathless sus-

pense. What fireside is there that does not CHAPTER III.

feela sensation of deep loneliness when the THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CASTLE.
"gude man's awa /" " Well," said Mr. Birch to his wife, on that
Could she have lifted the curtain of the evening, "if you '11 believe it, I have engaged

future, she might have seen that, although no Mrs. Peabody to assist me this winter."
present evil would betide them, the events of "Mrs. Peabody what Mrs. Peahody ?" ex-
I

that hour would be to her a source of lasting claimed Mrs. Birch, half suspecting the truth,
annoyance. Is it true, indeed, that "Coming yet doubting the possibility of such an event.
events cast their shadows before ?" "Why, Mrs. Erastns Peabody, of course;
"An' it's a gintleman, shure, as wants to who else do you suppose ? And now with her
see you, ma'am," said Katy, after showing the aid and influence I shall net a larger profit

stranger a seat in the parlor. thap I had before thought possible. Every
Mrs. Peabody was astonished to find that her dog has his lucky day."
visitor was Mr. Birch. And after conversing " But you must remember she is to have
briefly upon the fine autumn evening, he in- half."
 THE PURSUIT OF WEALTH UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 233

"Oh no, wife; sbe preferred a salary to avoid quite sure that when you find me supplied with
the trouble of coUecti ng small debts but some- ; a few hundred dollars of spending money, you
times it's more trouble to collect large ones will think quite favorably of the arrangement.
than small ones. She didn't think of that, Don't think that because the pale Mrs. Low-
though, ha ha I I She thinks she 's made a don, and this, and that, and the other Mrs.
great bargaiu." Invalid, look as though in every sense woman '

" But you did not hire her for a small salary, is the weaker vessel' I say, don't look at them
did you, Daniel f" and think that no one is able to do more than
"Oh no, indeed. I've promised to pay her to sit by a ready-made fire, on a cold day, or
an enormous price never said a word against fan themselves on a warm one, and dodge mos-
it. But you know, " said he, in a low whisper, quitoes after sunset. It is a mistake. It is

"the money has to go through my hands. not so much a want of strength that incapaci-
She '11 draw iu the pupils, that 's my object." tates us as a want of energy."
"Very good ;
quite eloquent you have grown
But a few days more passed when, one of late. I shouldn't wonder if some day you 'd
sunny afternoon, Mrs. Peabody greeted her be off addressing these new-fashioned conven-
husband just returned from the city. She tions, and advocating the rights of the down-
could hardly wait, for very joy, to tell him of trodden daughters of earth generally. Likely
her lucrative plans for the approaching winter, as not, some evening you '11 come in from your
and yet she feared a little that he might seri- o^'ce and find me darning the children's stock-
ously disapprove the measure. ings. Wouldn't I be a model husband then?
" Why, Jannette, are you crazy ?" exclaimed But without jesting, Jannette, I '11 give you one
Mr. Peabody, after listening to the news which gentle word of caution, and then you '11 please
liis wife related to him. " How do you think to give me a little supper. I shall msike no

matters will be going on at home, when you vetoes, but I want you to remember that old
are aw.ay ? And how do you think your health fable about the milkmaid, and don't reckon
will allow you to take any additional cares ? too largely upon green dresses."
You are .alw.iy3 busy .as and always in a
a bee,
Lurry and then to
; think of doing more, I 'm
astonished !"
" Don't you know, Erastus, that I ran al- CHAPTER IV.
ways accomplish whatever I undertake ?" said TRIALS AXD PERPLEXITIES.
she, her aspirations a little subdued at her " All is not gold that glitters."

husb.and'3 view of the subject. was a bleak December evening. The wind
It
" Yes, at the peril of your health. And then sighed and moaned, and howled piteously, but
you will have no time for company, and no the blazing file had warmed the sittiug-room,
time to go out why you '11 die all wrinkled
; and the silvery light of the astral shed a halo
and careworn before auother year." of cheerfulness within, yet Jlrs. Peabody's
"Oh, I will dispense with all other labor; heart seemed sinking with fatigue after the
^yon know Kate is competent to do all the duties of the day. The great hall was already
housework, and I can hire all my sewing done crowded with pupils no partition had been
;

f r one quarter the money I shall earn." put up according to agreement, and Mr. Birch
Are yousure you can keep Kate?" was presiding over an indefinite portion of the
" have engaged her for a year and Mrs.
I ; school, while Mrs. Peabody was obliged to do
iBolingbroke will do my sewing for the winter, the same. This w,as very trying to her. whose
whenever I want her and as to going out, I ; chief elementary principle was order. But she
shall have more time than I have now for any ; had learned long before that "what can't be
evening, after four o'clock, I shall be at liberty, cured must be endured," so she strove on
as I have determined to throw off all the care with heroic patience to endure in silence.
of work, and devote myself exclusively to teach- This evening we find her seated, pencil in
ling, and to recreatiou out of school hours." hand, by her writing-table, which was laden
" Ho, hum we '11 I see !" sighed out the per- with heaps of papers called "compositions,"
plexed husband, willing to end the discussion. written by pupils of almost every degree of
"Well, we will see," continued the perse- capacity, and given to her for correction.She
Tering Mrs. Peabody " that is, unless you put
; had marked out, and dashed, and interlined,
a veto upon it for, mind you, I w,is not rash
; and punctuated, till it seemed to her that no
enough to promise unconditionally, and I am one had ever seen half the vexations that she
19*
23i GODEY'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

had. Before her task was half completed, Mr. cess, till sank down in
the wearied mother
Peabody entered, and the clock had tolled tUe despair. Long after the midnight hour was
hour of nine. She withheld her accustomed past, she watched over the little suflerer, till
smile, and went on scratching, and dotting, at length the pain ceased, and all were quietly
and dashing. at rest. But scarce had they fallen soundly
" Well, Jannette, what 's the matter with you asleep when the morning dawned. There was
to-night. Upon my word, your face is as long no respite for the school-teacher then. So she
as the Levitical law and let me count, one,
;
arose with a nervous headache, drank her cofifee

two, three scowls in that brow of yours. Come, in silence, and at nine o'clock was again in the
put away those old papers and talk to me a literary hall, in rather an ill plight for the day's
little." labor. Everything necessarily went wrong.
"Oh, don't trouble me now, Erastus, I want Big boys laughed and threw peanuts, and little
to finisb this." ones pinched each other. Young ladies wrote
Just then he drew away the paper playfully billet-doux, and little girls made pictures on
from under her pencil, making a long zigzag their slates. Nobody had and their lessons,
scratch from top to bottom of the whole docu- more than twice she half resolved never to go
ment. there again. But this was Friday the next ;

"You are forever hectoring me," she con- day was the teacher's holiday, she would have
tinued, a little peevishly. " I should think I some rest. So, in view of the morrow, she
had caie enough, without being disturbed in went home to tea, feeling better than in the
this way." morning.
" Well, my dear, I just want to ask you if " I '11 tell you, Erastus, how I 've planned it

this is the recreation you take out of school to be prepared for that cousin of yours," said
hours ? I haven't seen you an evening this Mrs. Peabody at the tea-table. " I '11 turn
week without you were surrounded with papers pastry cook, house-cleaner, and Jack-of-all
enough to stock a lawyer's desk and now ; trades to-morrow, and I can cook enough to
here something of another kind," and he
is last a week, besides putting things to rights."
drew from his pocket a letter addressed to Mrs. " What a blessing it is to be able to make
E. Peabody. good calculations, Jannette."
She recognized it from a lady friend, a cousin " You always ridicule my plans but I be- ;

of her husband, and found that it contained lieve there is some truth in what Uncle Billy
the pleasing intelligence that she would be at used to say, It 's half in calkilatin' right.' "
'

their house the next week to spend the holi- " And the other half is in making your cal- '

days. kilations' work," rejoined Mr. Peabody.

Miss Florilla Danvers was a precise, quaint "Well, you '11 see."
littlemaiden of about nineteen summers. In " An' sure, missus, ye 'd be willin' for me
her father's house all went on with clock work jest to run down the strate for a minit, wouldn't
regularity. Her mother was devoted to Ler ye f" said Kate, interrupting them, as she ap-
domestic duties indeed, so much so that scarce
; proached with bonnet and shawl on.
a nook farmhouse but was looked
in that great " Why, Katy, can't you wait till the work is
after each day by her watchful eye. No won- done f then you can go."
der that Mrs. Peabody felt a sensation of dread " Och, an' it 's not Kathleen O'Brien that 's

creep over her at the idea of such company, afther walkin' the strates in the dark, sure it

when the keeping of her house was given up isn't. An' ye wouldn't be afther bavin' yer
to Kate. maid to do a thing that ar'n't dacent. An'
" What shall I do ?" half soliloquized the now. Missus Pabody, I must be ofi' before the
troubled woman. sun is down, or I can't go at all, at all."
"Teach school; it's profitable business," "Well, then you must hurry back, will
added Mr. Peabody. you?"
Just then a moaning from the little girls' "An' it's I that will hurry. I'll be hack
sleeping apartment arrested the mother's ear, agin in half an hour. Indade I will, ma'am."
and she hastened to their bedside, to find the But Kathleen's half hour was a long one.
little Delia groaning with the ear-ache. She forgot the "indacency" of being out till
" Take me up, mamma, I can't sleep," and after dark,and did not return till most nine in
she cried aloud. the evening. Mrs. Peabody had placed the
The child was taken into the sitting-room, tea-things in the kitchen, and left them for her
and countless restoratives applied without suc- maidship to dispose of when she came back.
 THE PURSUIT OF WEALTH UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 235

Kate didn't like that, and she made all things The little girls looked up into her troubled face

fly when she was performing the finale to her with their sweet blue eyes and said " We 'U :

day's work. help you, ma." And when she beheld such
The next morning found our "Jack-of-all generous sympathy, all the yearnings of a mo-
surrounded with butter
trailes" in the kitchen, ther's heart sprang up to meet it, and she
and eggs, sugar and flour, lard and minced scarce could tell why that silent tear escaped
meat, sliced apples, etc. etc. .Tust after the her eye, or why she could not restrain the
breakfast things were cleared away, Kate ap- emotion which fired her whole soul.
peared again before her mistress, attired for And it w.as really surprising 'to see how they
the "sthrate." dusted, and picked up, and put to rights, tliat
" What now, Kate, where are you going, in whole house, equal to the best of parlor ser-
the morning, too ?" vants. And when dinner-time came, didn't
" An' shure, ma'am, an' it 's Missus Spincer they lay out that table with its snowy cloth
that'll be afther givin' me two shillin' more of and pure white dishes in better order than
a week than yersilf, an' I tould her I 'd come even Kathleen O'Brien could have done?
there this verymomin'." Notwithstanding the interruptions of half a
" Why, Kate, what do you mean ? Didn't dozen fashionable calls, and unexpected com-
yon promise to stay with nie a year?" pany to dinner, when night came, there were
"An' ar'n't Kathleen O'Brien a poor girl more cakes and pies, and lighter and whiter
an' musn't she git all she can for the labor of bread in that pantry than had been there at
her hands f" once for weeks before. But was all this accom-
" But why did yon not tell me you were plished without any weariness any aching of
going aw.iy iu time for me to find some one limbs or any perplexities ? Oh no very weary ;

else f I can get plenty of help money

for less was Mrs. Peabody that night and when she ;

than I pay you, and besides you know that sat down in her large easy chair on that eve
j my work is not quite equal to Spencer's Hotel." of the blessed Sabbath,' and listened to the
" Oeh, ma'am, an' I never thought o' lavin' rehearsal of the little girls' Bible lesson for the
i
ye till the last eveuin' when I called up to next day, she felt some heart-throbbings when
Spincer's to see Bridget O'Flaherty, an' Missns they repeated, "Come unto me, all ye that
I
Spincer axed me what she would do for me, labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you
an' I tould her that I would be afther comin' rest."
this mornin', an' it's not Katlileen O'Brien Ah, there no such consolation offered to
is

that would break a promise ony how." those who weary in their pursuit after the
are
Mrs. Pe.ibody was too indignant to reply ; gilded follies of earth none to those who faint
;

and according to her motto, to do whatever she
might undertake, she told Kate to go and
upon looking in herporte-monnaieforthe money
to pay her, she found a sum not equal to tlie
debt. Chagrined and vexed because Mr. Birah
J
did not pay her according to agreement, she left
her kneadiug-board and wrote the following
Me. Birch I am in want of money. You
:
in their search after " filthy lucre," and she felt
; as if she could turn aside from all else, and
give herself np to the work which her blessed
Master would have her to do. In that holy
employment there are no perplexities of un-
faithful servants, and when we are weary He
:
"will give us rest." And that evening, when
they bowed around the altar of prayer, it was

to realize more than ever that " He is an ever-

promised to pay me in advance. Please send
present help in time of trouble."
me five dollars by Jennie, and much oblige
J Not only Mrs. Pealiody, but her husband
Mrs. J. C. Peabodt.
looked sad. The time for jesting was now
Jennie soon returned with a note, saying past with him. He had too much sympathy
that Mr. Birch had not that amount by him, for her weariness for light words, and he felt,
and that he would call up in the evening and too, creeping upon him one of those distressing
bring it to her, if he could collect it daring the sick headaches to which he was subject but ;

day. how could he bear to have his already ex-

"Another promise made but to be broken," hausted wife kept awake all night for his com-
Baid Mrs. Pe.abody to herself, and then told plaints No, he would not he could bear it
! ;

Kate to call np the next week and she would alone for once. But the dark sunken eyes,
pay her. But when her " maid-ofallwork" hollow cheeks, and ashy paleness of the face,
was really gone, she felt that she was brought betr.iyed the approaching agony of the night.
into a strait narrower than she ever saw before. At midnight, the pains iu his head were insuf-
 ;

236 godey's lady's book and magazine.

ferable ; but Mrs. Peabody kn<<w just what style, while Delia counted the trees and birds,
would them.
alleviatB So she arose without a and little girls at play with dolls, iu the pic-
murmur, prepared a warm foot-hath aud a tures which Jack Frost had painted on the
soothing application for his foreliead, adminis- windows. Jennie could see old castles with
tered an opiate, and when the clock upon the ruined battlements, broken turrets, aud moss-
mantel struck out the hour of three they had covered pillars, where Delia could only see lit-
Just extinguished the night-lamp and prepared tle girls with canaries upon their fingers. She
for a few hours' sleep. But his deep measured could see rushing rivers and mighty cataracts
breathing fell upon her ear like a death knell where Delia saw play-houses. But each could
and while she nervously rested upon her sleep- see what she did see so plainly, that mamma
less pillow, dark visions of sick chambers, pal- was called upon to explain the reason why
lid countenances, half-closed eyes, aud feverish they did not see alike. A question which
brows, floated in a dreamy picture before her, older heads would like to hear answered.
e'en till the cock-crowiug, when she sunk into Mrs. Peabody peeped softly in, to see if ker
a fitful slumber but for one short hour; then husband was awake, just in time to find him
the bright sun looked down as silently beauti- removing the bandage from his foreliead, when
ful upon the earth as if no suffering were here. he exclaimed, "What are you doing up this
It was the glorious Sabbath, aud its sacred cold morning, my dear ? why did you not wait
Stillness brought a sweet feeling of repose to till I had made the fire ?"

the wearied soul, which no elixir save that of
Heaven can produce. The eye of faith stretched
far beyond these mortal pains and tears,
beyond the cares and perplexities of this life,
to view that "haven of eternal rest," that
" You don't suppose I would let you get up
in the cold after such a night as you had last
night, do you ? But how is your head this
morning?"
" It is much better I am able to take care of
;

Sabbath which hath no end. you, now."

"Mamma, who'll build the fire when Katy " I am happy to say that I do not need any
is gone," sung out a bird-like voice from an care at present. Breakfast is
ready I will
adjoining bedroom, which we cannot fail to warm your slippers for you,and 1 hope you
recognize as little Delia's. will feel better still when you have taken a
A new trial now presented itself. The frost- cup of warm coffee."
paned windows told but too plainly of the chill- Soon all were seated around the neatly spread
ing atmosphere. Her aching head and ex- table, and Delia very gravely remarked to
hausted limbs shrunk from this unaccustomed mamma that she wished she wouldn't "get any
task but so glad was she to find her husband
; more Katys," for she said it was " so clean and
in a quiet sleep that she rose gently, lest she still when Katy was gone."

should awaken him, threw about her a warm
wrapper, stepped into her velvet slippers, aud
glided out so noiselessly that one with open
eyes and ears could scarce have heard a sound.
Closing her own door, she stepped into the next
bedroom and hushed the innocent prattle of
the children, telling them that papa was very
sick all night, and they must not disturb him.
" Does his heg-ate now f " anxiously inquired
Delia.
"I guess so, darling; but papa's asleep
now, and you must be very still." And so
they were very still, for it was Mrs. Peabody's
fortune to have her children obedient.
In a few moments the bright fire was crack-
ling in the grate Billy, the canary, was sing-
; nothing serious, only a slight cold from which
ing a cheerful matin, and the little girls were
performing their toilette by express permission
that morning in the sitting-room. When all
things had been duly put in order, the coffee
and toast were prepared by Mrs. Peabody, tlie
table laid out by Jennie in the most approved
When breakfast was over, mamma was per-
suaded to seek repose, and the little girls would
put away the dishes. Knowing that they were
competent to perform the task, Mrs. Peabody
was quite willing to intrust it to them, and
yield to the importunities of exhausted nature
for rest. She soon fell into a sound slumber,
from which even the echoing church bells did
not awaken her, and it was high noon ere she
was aware that it was time for morning service.
When she awoke, she found her husband
watching her with ^reat anxiety, for he had
discovered that a high fever was laying its
burning fingers upon her, and he much feared
the consequences. But she assured him it was
she would recover iu a few days. Colds never
made her sick. She only feared her hoarseness
would prove inconvenient in teaching. She de-
clared that she was much refreshed by her long
sleep, and was sure that the morrow would find
her quite well.
 THE PCRSriT OF WEALTH UXDER DIFFICULTIES.
CHAPTER V.
' A WKSTKKX MINISTER.
Thr hour for dismission at the Flintrille
High School has arrived, and if you would see
freedom even as much as Fanny Ftin would
wish to see among children and youth you
should look in there. A score or more are
rushing, stumbling, and stamping down the
long staircase from the third story of the Dun-
ham Block to the street. What care tbey for the
frowns or threats of the dentists, doctors, and
lawyers on the second floor ? They are "out of
school" now. Yet the long hall is swarming
with a mixed multitude of dismissed pupils,
some kickingat benches, some trying to find their
books, some grown up lads and lasses enjoying
tete-ii-Utes in secluded corners, and by far the
larger number seeking promote confusion
to
generally. Mrs. Peabody is sitting at her desk
upon the rostrum in one end of the room, with
her aching head leaning upon her left hand,
while with her right she writes the first line
upon a page in each of the forty copybooks be-
fore her.
Anaspiring yonth with a red head, a freckled
face, and a green coat, presented himself with
I his writing-book, and asked her if she would
please set him a copy.
"Mr. Birch will do that," she replied.
"But don't like his copies, and the girls
I other end of the room.
are a-beatiu' the boys all holler a larniu' to
write, an' I don't like that.
There 's a whole
lot of boys that sit down yonder 'at are a-goin'
to git you to set all their 'n, and I tho't I 'd be
ahead on 'em."
Too much fatigued for argument, she ac-
(cepted the book, and dismissed the boy in a
hoarse whisper, and at the same time request-
ing him to go home, and to persuade the other
boys to go down stairs immediately.
" Come, Bill, let 's go home. And, boys,
look a-here," he added, Jn an imperative
manner, " Miss Peabody 's got the headache,
and wants us to go home. Stop your 'rasslin',
Clare, and let 's go down stairs now, for the
schoolmarm wants us to."
This last argument was sufficient to take off
another score but no appeal was su^ient to
; " Wa'al, where shall I sit, then ?" responded
jbreak the game of wrestling between Mr. Birch
.and Clare a tall stripling from Smithton, who
Iwas determined to "throw the master," and
then he would be ready to go home. A group
of half a dozen gentlemanly young men, who
Ihad been gravely consulting together, now
same up Peabody's desk, and asked
to Mrs.
permission to speak with her a few moments.
237
They then proceeded to inform her that they
had been trying to interest Mr. Birch in the
enterprise of a public exhibition at the close of
the term, which would occur in about two
weeks upon which occasion the young men
;
should declaim, the young ladies read essays,
and intersperse the exercises with a few pert
colloquies and vocal music.
Mr. Birch had consented to this three weeks
before, but made no arrangements to prepare
them for the occasion and they wished to
;
know if she would not allow them to join the
young ladies in their hour for practice, which
they had been informed would be on the eve-
ning of the morrow. All arguments to convince
them of woman's incompetency to teach all
branches of oratory failed, and she consented
to their reqi>est.
By this lime, Clare had been thrown by the
"master" half a dozen times, and having let
loose his grasp, was shaking himself like a
whipped cur, "concluding to give it up."
Just then a burly fellow, known as Hank,
walked up and said he 'd "like to try it." A
vulgar shout rose upon the air, defaming the
sanctity of the schoolroom, and cries of "Go
it. Hank I" "Give it to him, and show him
who's master!" broke in mingled confusion
upon the air, contrasting strangely with the
conversation at Mrs. Peabody's desk at the
Too much disgusted for endurance with the
scene before her, she placed the unfinished
copybooks in her desk, turned the key hastily,
threw on her hood and furs, and went home.
Being late home that night, her newly initi-
ated servant had made her debut at preparing
supper alone, and she found the family, also
the Rev. Mr. Crabbe, sitting around a tea-table
which looked very unlike the one she was ac-
customed to see in that dining-room. The fag
ends of half a dozen sets of dishes of all sizes
and colors had been spread npon a brown cloth,
and Miss Sally Bangs was doing the honors of
the tea. While the salutations were being
exchanged, Sally screamed out in a shrill fort-
issimo voice "D'ye want to sit here?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Peabody, briefly.
Sally.
" I guess yon '11 find room in the kitchen."
So Sally went to the kitchen, shutting the
door with a bang, leaving Mrs. Peabody to
arrange her own place at the table.
"You must enjoy excellent health, Sister
Peabody, to be able to attend to your school,"
remarked Elder Crabbe.
 "I

238 godet's lady's book and magazine.

is pretty good," was her reply.

from the subject upon which he was before
"My health
" Well, sister, does thy soul prosper, even conversing, and he began inquiring who " Miss
Bangs" was, and why she had not been to
as thy body prospereth f" inquired the rever-
meeting with them. So he must necessarily
end Solomon.
be informed that she had not been in their
She might have told him that if her faith
her bodily strength, she service but two days. And after some thrilling
was failing as fast as
Peter but exhortations he took his leave.
would soon be left to fall as far as ;

she forbore complaining, and gave an evasive

answer.
"Why do you look so sad to-night?" said
unsympathizing Mr. Peabody, when they were alone.
Mr. Crabbe was an ascetic,
man, who thought that what his constitution "Oh, I do not know as I am particularly sad,
but I have been so much disgusted to-day
could endure, might be endured by every per-
with Mr. Birch, that I have almost concluded
son. He had been reared in the rough climate
New York, had, like David, spent not to teach there another day."
of Northern
" Why, what has occurred to-day, anything
his boyhood in watching his father's flocks
upon the rocky hillside, and in his youth, like new?"
Cain, was a tiller of the soil.
" It is new to me to witness such sights as I
have seen today. It is new to me to be asso-
If occupations have aught to do in moulding
might be said that in this man ciated with a teacher who has not, and in fact
characters, it
deserves not, the respect of his pupils. If it
the opposing dispositions of his two predeces-
were not for the reason that a large number
sors were strangely blended. A strong advocate
have advanced their tuition, with the expecta-
of the Law of the Lord, yet he would almost
tion of being under my instruction, I would
slay the man who refused to partake of the
never enter that school-room again."
gospel feast when bidden by him. When he
"Well, how is it about these advance pay-
took it upon himself to preach the unsearchable
riches of Christ, his brethren in the ministry
ments ? Does Mr. Birch fulfil his promise in
regard to payments ?"
wisely (?) took into consideration that as his
and as he was disposed to
talents were small,
" No, indeed that just puts me in mind
him Saturday for money to pay
use them somewhere, it was best to send him
sent to last
Kate, and he promised to call up in the even-
West, as "he would do very well there."
" ye blind guides 1" little do ye understand ing and pay me, but not a word did I hear

West Rather, when a man from him until this morning, when he handed
the wants of the !

proclaim good me the paltry sum oftwo dollars, which hap-

would stand on Zion's hill to
upon his feet the pened to be a little more than the amount of
tidings of salvation, having
sandals of ignorance, bid him come down from my indebtedness. He assured me that before
the mount, for it is holy ground. None are the close of the term the whole matter should

called there, not even to the West, who are not be made right but what is his word I 'd
" wise as serpents." "Come, come, you 're getting excited poor
But Elder Crabbe had called this afternoon Tray should not complain of his company."
" Job's friends were not more sure to remind
to ascertain the reason why
Mr. and Mrs. Pea-
him of his failings than"
body were not in their proper places on the
" Do you want me any longer?" squeeled
Sabbath previous. When informed that they
Sally, as she blustered unbidden into the sitting-
were absent on account of sickness, he added,
with an unfeeling jest, that "A great many
room.
"Of course I do; why, what's the matter
are troubled with Sunday sichtesses now-a-days.
now ?" exclaimed Mrs. Peabody, trembling at
Ob, this is an age when we ministers have to
the prospect of being left servantless a second
do pretty much all the weeping between the
time.
porch and the altar."
" Wii'al, nothin', only if ye want me to work
Just then the clear voice of Sally broke forth
for ye,'lreckon I '11 set down to the fust table,
upon the kitchen air " Oh, I wish that 1 could
:

coz I 'm 'bout as good as any body, if I do work

marry," was the burden of her song and as the
out, that so."
minister was a widower, he might have taken
's

"Why, Sally, you are not unreasonable

the sentiment as a direct appeal to himself,
enough to wish me to take the second table
and translated it into an inquiry from Sally as
" What she should do to be saved" (from instead of yourself, when there is not room for
to
mean), which perhaps he all at the first, I hope?"
being an old maid, I
" Wa'al, not exactly that, but then I thought
did, as it had the effect to divert his attention
 !

WIDOWS. 239

I'd Jest ax ye 'bout it, coz ye see I want .in confine ourselves to-d.ay to female impostors of
nnderstaiiilin', for if I aiut good enoiis;h to eat a peculiar class. We have to do with those
with ye, I '11 be makin' tracks for home, that '3 who trifle with the tenderest sympatliies of
U." our nature, and are akin to the street-boy who
" We will understand each other better after tells a pitiful t.ale, that the stranger m.ay be
a little, Sally ; so now you be contented to stay wiping his eyes while he picks his pocket.
with me till my school is closed, and you are
if Widowhood has its peculiar trials and sor-
as good a girl as you are now, I will keep you rows, yet it has also its blessed privileges.
longer." The noble, the kindly, the loving of earth see
" All I care is jest I don't want to be run in a true widow a sister a helpless sister to
over,and I won't, that 's so." be sheltered and guarded, and gently leil along
"Oh, no indeed, you never shall be while her rugged pathw.ay. The Widow is the special
yon live with me," was the conciliating reply, care of the Ever Merciful, Almighty Friend ;

while at the same time Mrs. Peabody was she is the one hum.an being to whom God is

writhing beneath the crushing weight of Sally's peculiarly pledged as Husband and Judge,
impertinence. Comforter and Guide. There is something
The kitchen door was again closed, and desirable, then, even in the portion of the true
above the din of rattling dishes, splashing widow. Hence it is that she h.as her counter-
water, and simmering tea-kettles, rose the feits, as unlike the real mourner .as is the gin-

shrill voice of our musical maid in the exqui- gerbread bird of the cake-shop to the robin at
site melody of our window.
**
All around the vinegar jng, Widow is with us a sacred name ; we do not
The monkey chased the weasel." care to designate by it anything that can win
(Conclusion nest month.) a smile, much less, curl the lip in scorn. It

has been well remarked that "cant sayings

are short cuts to express an idea, and slang

WIDOWS PART : VI. words fill up the deficiencies of more elegant

English." SoiciVWerhas come to me.an among
THE "WIDDER."
us a something, a somebody, who either par.ades
I never have changed my single lot,
her sorrows for a purpose, or is no widow at all,
I thought would be a sin
it ;

The iucousolable widder of Deacon Bedott but a thorough make-believe, an actor of an

Don't intend to git married agin. assumed part.
Tlie Wi'iow Bedott Papers. There are trldders of all sorts, adapted to
Tbeke is no surer way of finding out what is every stage of society, and unworthy of a place
esteemed of value in any community than by on any soci.al platform.
noting what is counterfeited there, either in the There is the pretty, young widder, who wipes
realm of matter or mind. Who pretends to her eyes that innocent bachelors may look at
be a mean, time-serving, office-seeking hungerer her, and see how bright are those s.ame eyes,
for a share of the public spoils ? Who claims to and how the close quilling of her cap becomes
be a me.au man at a bargain, a grinder of the faces her fair hair and tinted dheeks. Don't gr.atify
of the poor, a devonrer of the portion of the her by a single glance She neither deserves
!

fatherless ? We find no aspirants for any such your sympathy nor your admiration.
fame as this. "When one man want to rise, There is that pertinacious widder, that haun-
how him love the peop !" exclaimed the aston- ter of oflices, stores, studies, and all peculiar
ished Frenclim.an. Monsieur's observation was resorts of the lords of creation. She has a
just, thou^'h his English was not particularly paper in her hand, stating that she h-is lost her
happy. It is the pure patriot, the large-hearted, husb.and somehow and somewhere, and so has a
liberal, man who is aped and
high-minded claim on the ch.aritable. Don't be taken in by
counterfeited. The jewel and the gold, virtue the sorrowful droop of her veil, or her lugubri-
and elegance have their shams " but nobody '
' ;
ous, dolorous aspect 1 She makes gain of her
cares to imitate the shabby, or to pretend to misfortunes, and a livelihood out of her grief
wickedness. Even the hypocrite gives in his Knowing men shake their heads at her, and
testimony to the beauty of holiness, and is, in think her departed spouse h<ad good riddance of
his way, a preacher of righteousness. her, and was fortunate in getting out of a world
We might write all day on the various kinds cumbered by her presence.
of whitewash by which the scamps endeavor There is the French widder, a spinster really,
to impose upon their fellow men but we must ; who, being tired of the questionable honors of
240 godey's lady's book and magazine.

single blessedness, mysteriously absents her- be a miserable, decaying ruin, beautified by no

nobody knows where, and
self for a time, goes, clustering mosses, and graced and sustained
comes back "Madam," in deep mourning for by no clinging vines Alas for the widders,
1

a husband who had existed only in her imagi- one and all, when they grow old I

nation, as the tenant of her favorite chateau en We don't want to think about the widders.
Espagne, We don't want to write about them It irks !

There is the tramping widder, with a big our very soul to know that they blot the fair
bundle on her back, a big baby in her arms, face of earth ? We cannot even bring ourselves
and a big lie in her mouth. The bundle con- to more than hint at the thinking, whispering,
tains as good clothing as you have in your evil-tongned widder, who is sometimes tolerated
bureau ; the baby, she borrowed (borrowing even in select circles. We blush that she lives,
trouble, truly) ; the lie is a part of her natural and so let her pass.
dialect ; she does not know now when she tells We have done with the u'idders !
it it would puzzle her more far to speak the We would not for a moment cast a shadow
truth. Don't give ber a penny ! Don't give of disrespect on the humble, unlettered woman,
her a hearing ! Don't give her foot-room on who styles herself a widder, and cares not
your door-step I whether Johnson or Webster would frown on
There is the widder who is so hard to be her pronunciation. She but knows that the
comforted that she has to have her minister, or honest, hard hands of him who labored for her
some unsophisticated Elder Sniffles to pour oil and her little ones, are folded over the broad
on her grief, and wipe away her tears. Shame- bosom, that silent bosom, which lies so low,
less hypocrite She wants a new husband
1 I 'neath the green grass. She has shed her bit-
That is the only kind of comfort to dry up the ter tears, and moaned her moans of agony, and
fount of her sorrows ! If she sends for you, now she has rallied "to make good the room
my excellent bachelor friend, don't go unless of him that's gone." She has talked cheerily
your heart be mailed and guarded. She will to "the bairns," and "set the house to
find out your tender side, and get you to make rights," and she is ready to face the world
love to her before you know it. Lend her nobly, and welcome ceaseless toil without a
sound, searching books to read, preach at her murmur. She will deny herself food and rai-
from the pulpit, if you please, but don't risk a ment, rest and sleep, and yet smile on, while
conversation with her. She is a very Delilah, her children are rosy around her. Little to her
and eveu a Samson might be worsted in an will be privation and torture, if she can but
encounter with such an adversary. "make ends meet," and "put a bit in the
There is the hard-faced widder who keeps the mouths of her boys and girls." She wants
boarding-house or the apple-stall, no matter work, constant work not for charity, not eveu
;

which. She will make "a poor mouth," as for sympathy does she ask, but she does ask
the saying is, and tell of her children to be fed, work of some kind, no matter how wearisome,
and compel you to let her have the best
fairly no matter how scanty the pay Let her not !

of the bargain in consideration of her peculiar ask in vain Find her out and keep her busy,
I

trials. Don't have atfy dealings with her, but ye daughters of luxury Let her have the joy
!

if you do, treat her as if she were a man, and of houest independence Give her a kindly
I

a close-fisted one. She can look out for her friend to whom she may go for advice. Tell
own interest she does not need your sympathy
; her you will care for her children if sickness
or your consideration. Perhaps she was young,
should come that they shall never want. Roll
honest and tender-hearted, once, but that was that great burden off from her mind. Yes, seek
a long time ago, in the dim and shadowy past. out the humble, toiling widow, and cheer her
Bygones, for her, will be bygones, and her on in her path of loving self-deniah To aid
second childhood will bear no resemblance to her, comfort her, and eke out her scanty earn-
her first. There is no sweet, loving, kindly, ings. Ah 1 work on which is promised
this is
liberal old age in store for her. Little grand- the blessing of Heaven I

children will never snuggle up to her side, or Wo to the man, be he landlord or shop-
run to her as a city of refuge, where they will keeper, who screws and pinches, and presses
be safe from blame, no matter what peccadilloes hard on these poor struggling women The I

they have committed. She will have all the day will come when he shall render up his
loneliness and ugliness of old age, with none account 1 Miserable consolation, indeed, will
of the merciful alleviations Providence has as- be his petty, extorted gains, in that hour of
sociated with the down-hill of life. She will crushing retribution I
 A PARTY, AXD WHAT CAME OF IT.
BT MART HATFIELD,

"Mart," said my mother, rousing me from and sent a flush to my usually pale cheek
the pleasant reverie into which I had fallen, my figure was slight and well proportioned,
as I sat in the twilight of a November day hut not remarkable in any way. Just as 1 had
gazing dreamily into the blazing fire that finished dressing, and was turning away with
crackled on the hearth. " Mary, it is time to a half sigh from the mirror, for I thought that
dress your sister
;
has gone to her room long there was no one now as there once was, when
ago but what are you going to wear, may I
; my own dear mother was alive, to take any
ask?"' added she, in a curious tone. interest in me, to care whether I looked well
"I don't know; my blue silk, I guess," 1 or ill, a knock came at the door, and on my
replied dreamily, hardly realizing what I said. saying "Come in," Jane, my old and faithful
" Well, I must say you seem very indifferent nurse, entered.
on the subject," she rejoined in a somewhat " Shure, Miss Mary dear, it's sorry I am
ironical tone, "more indifferent than young that I could not come to you before, but the

ladies even of twenty-five usually are. How- mistress and Miss Lucy kept me busy until
ever, it is all the same to me only go and dress; now ;but can I do nothing for you. Miss ?"
now, for I have no notion of being kept waiting." " Nothing, thank you, Jane," I replied. "I
So saying, she left the room. knew you would have come before if you
that
I rose wearily from my seat and went to my could, for believe you love me and want to
I

room. Such words were familiar to my ears, please me."

so they produced nothing but a dull aching "Indeed, and how could I help loving you,
pain at my heart, far different from the keen when I took you a little child, and have
agony they would formerly have inflicted, for watched over you since, and will never leave
my disposition was very sensitive, and unkind yon. Indeed, Miss, and it 's only love to your-
words caused me sometimes real agony. I self that keeps me mother
here, since your dear
felt, however, no remorse, for I knew that I had died. But shame on me for bringing tears to
honestly endeavored to do my duty to my step- your eyes, and you going to a party. Let me
mother. When my father had brought her get your shawl and hood, but first let me look
home, five years before, it had been a bitter at you;" and after she had regarded me silently
grief tome, but I felt that it was my duty to sub- fora few minutes, she said: "Indeed, Miss,
mit with patience and apparent cheerfulness to an' you look real nice with your hair braided
what contributed to make him happy, and I so handsome, and that blue dress is certainly
had, therefore, although with a bursting heart, becoming. I hope you will have a pleasant

welcomed to our home, with all the cheerfulness time, Miss Mary," added she respectfully and
I could, my step-mother, and the beautiful, affectionately as she wrapped me in my shawl
but haughty daughter who accompanied her. and hood, and lighted me down stairs.
To daughter she was devoted everything
this ; I found my mother and sister in the parlor,

that Lucy wished must be done everything ; adjusting their drapery before the glass. As I
that Lucy desired must be procured. This in- entered both looked up and scrutinized me at-
dulgence naturally made a haughty and impe- tentively. "Well, Mary, considering all things,
rious temper more hanghty and imperious still, you'll do," was Lucy's remark as I approached
and it was often with a sigh that I contem- her.
plated a face so perfect, yet with all its "Mary," said my mother, "I do hope you
sweetness marred by pride and self-will. Be- . will make yourself agreeable to-night, and not
tween my sister and myself there was no sym- cause people to remark on your worn and tired
pathy ; she was fond of society, gayety, and looks, for do not fancy your father telling me
I

dress. / was fonder of quiet, of my books and again that I ought to have more regard for
work. Truly I was not calculated to shine in your health than to keep you up so very late
the brilliant assemblages of the young and the because your sister is enjoying herself."
gay the face which was reflected in the mir-
; I was about lo reply, when a servant an-
ror before me was pale and quiet, only un- nounced the carriage. We drove off rapidly,
wonted pleasure lit up my dark, hazel eyes, aud soon arrived at our destination. The
TOL. LXVII. 20 241
 a '

242 godet's lady's book and magazine.

house was one blaze of light, and the crash of " Then you are not partial to them, I infer ?"
the baud showed, as cliildren say, that the said Mr. Sunderland.
party had begun. The dressing-room was full "No, I very much prefer quiet; my tastes
of ladies, and amongst them I soon recognized and my health are both at variance with these
my friend, Ellen Claymore. amusements but, to please my father, I go
;

"Good-evening, Mary dear," said she. "I out. He is not pleased if 1 mope at home, as
am so glad we have both come at the same he calls it."

time, for we can go down together. But oh, I " Well, I agree with you in not liking balls
have something to tell you," whispered she, as a general thing," said my partner; "and I
" only think, I heard our hostess say yesterday admire your taste more than that of the
far
that she expected the great Mr. Sunderland to- frivolous belles of the season. Do you know.
night/' Miss Mayfield, I have heard a great deal about
" Who is Mr. Sunderland, may I ask?" in- you from a warm friend of yours, and may I
quired I.
confess it ? it was in the hope of being pre-
"Why, don't you know the great beau, the sented to you that I came here to-night."
parti of the season ! rich as Croisus, accom- "Indeed," I replied, not knowing well what
plished, fascinating I Why, all the girls are to say, as the quick color mounted to my
crazy about him, and I tell you, Mary, I am cheek. Ah, reader, I was so unaccustomed to
going to set my
cap for him in earnest. But compliments 1

come, Miss Mary, the field is ready, let us go The dance concluded, my partner led me to
down. How lovely Lucy looks to-night she'll ; my seat, and at this moment Lucy passed us,
have the best chance of all," laughed the 01 the arm of one of her ardent admirers
merry girl as we descended. young captain.
After paying our respects to our hostess, I " Who is that lovely girl ?" eagerly inquired
sank quietly down in a sofa, while Ellen's liand tay partner.
was claimed by a tall youth in an irreproacha- " She is my half sister Miss Lucy Seymour, '

ble toilet, and she was soon whirling in tlie I replied.

giddy throng. I had been seated quietly en- "Can you not introduce me?" he asked,
joying myself looking on, for some time, when quite eagerly ; and, as Lucy came towards me
I suddenly observed a gentleman standing not at this moment, I performed the required cere-
far distant whose eyes had been steadily fixed mony. He engaged her for the next dance,
on me, but who immediately withdrew tliem as and they soon took their places. How lovely
they encountered mine. He was surrounded Lucy looked that night Her golden hair I

by a knot of young men and one or two elderly hung in soft curls about her face, the flowing
ladies, and they seemed attentively criticizing cloud of white tarletane of which her dress was
the bellss of the evening. I had turned to composed, half enveloped her slight figure,
speak to a friend, when I heard the voice of while her eyes were lit up with excitement,
Mrs. Saxton, our hostess, addressing me with and the flush of pleasure was on her cheek.
" Miss Mary, may
I introduce to you my par- And Mr. Sunderland I confessed to myself
ticular Mr. Sunderland ?" I bowed,
friend, that I had never seen a handsomer man and,
and uttered the usual assent, and immediately as they stood side by side, I could not help
afterwards Mrs. Saxton approached, accompa- thinking what a charming pair they would
nied by the gentleman I had observed before. make. But I must not linger any longer over
" Miss Mayfield, let me introduce Mr. Sunder- this evening, for I have yet a tale to tell. Con-
land," and she vanished in the throng, leaving trary to my expectations, Mr. Sunderland again
the gentleman standing before me. requested me to dance, took me down to sup-
"May I have the pleasure of dancing this per, and finally conducted me to the carriage,
Lanciers with you. Miss Mayfield ?" said the and before closing the door, requested permis-
gentleman. sion to call upon us the following day. My
I bowed and accepted, well pleased, and as mother cheerfully assented, and he bowed and
the music struck up, at this took moment we withdrew.
our places. " Quite a brilliant evening," said On reaching home, I retired immediately ;

my partner; "everybody seems to be here; but fatigued as Iwas long before my

was, it

do you not find it very agreeable. Miss May- eyes closed, and when they did, the image of
field ?" Mr. SunderUand still reigned in my dreams.
"Yes, indeed," I replied, "more agreeable The next day he called, but his visit was short,
than I usually find these assemblages." and Lucy kept him engaged in an almost
 A PARTY, AXD TTHAT CAME OF IT. 243

exclusive conversation. Day after day it was "Ah, indeed," he replied, as if utterly in-
Tery much the same, yet at times I imagined different, and then, after a pause :
" But, Miss
liis eyes rested on me, with an expression I Mary, I did not come to see either I came to ;

dared not interpret, thongU I treasured it np in see you to bid you farewell, perhaps for many
my heart. Soon my mother gave triumphant years."
gU-inces at Lucy when Mr. Sutherland made A pang shot through my heart at these words.
his appearance, and even my father began to "To bid me farewell I" I murmured, half in-
rally her upon her conquest. And, must I audibly.
confess it all made me very unhappy
this " Yes, farewell yet, Mary" and as I star-
I
day after day my manner became more cold,
;

tled

"forgive me, dear Mary, it is with you
more distant to Mr. Sunderland, and heavier to decide. Say but that you will be mine, and
and heavier grew my heart. I remain if not, I go for years, perhaps for-
:

"Dear Miss Mary," one day inquired my ever 1"

faithful Jane, " dear Miss Mary, what is the Astonishment, rapture, hope, fear, kept me
matter ? You are as pale as a ghost you are ; speechless. I gazed at him in silence, utterly
not yourself; you must be sick. Indeed, and unable to utter a word.
forgive me. Miss, but you ought to see old Dr. " Spe.ak, Mary may 1 I say dearefl Mary!"
Maxwell. You ought, indeed, and it 's sad and he implored, as he took my hand. " It is cruel
worried I am this minute about you !" to keep me in suspense tell me, dearest, may
Such exclamations greeted my ears almost I hope ?"

daily as Jane helped me to dress, and even my I raised my eyes to his. No answer was
father inquired anxiously if I were well, and needed in words. I was clasped in a fervent,
where my appetite had flown. heart-felt embrace.
" She must have change of air," he said one Some time after, my mother and Lucy re-
day to my mother, who coolly replied :
turned.
"Really, Mr. Mayfield, you are entirely too " Has any one called while we were out f

anxious about Mary ; there is nothing the inquired my mother of the servant.
matter, and she had any rate, stay
better, at " Yes, ma'am Mr. Sunderland, and he is in
at home wedding."
until after the the parlor yet, ma'am."
' But when is that to be ?" asked my father. " Oh, very well. Lucy, dear," she whispered,
" Has he proposed yet ? Ue has not asked my "go in I will come down in a few moui'euts."
;

consent they are not even enijaged I"

; As Lucy entered, I had just withdrawn my
" Oh, he may propose any day," replied she, hand from his, and, though blushing deeply,
somewhat confused, " and Lucy shall not delay endeavored to appear composed. Mr. Sunder-
long afterwards, if I have any influence. There land, though somewhat embarrassed at first,
is nothing so bad as long engagements for soon recovered his usual ease of manner, and
girls." Lucy and he chatted gayly upon the stand-
"Well, yon know best, "responded myfather, ing topics of the day. At this moment the
as he left the room. dinner-bell rang, and my father and mother
All this I had unintentionally overheard, as entered the room together. As soon as the
I sat in the next room sewing, for U had passed ordinary salutations were over, Mr. Sunderland
60 quickly that I had not had time to come for- took my hand, and leading me to my father,
ward and announce my presence. regardless of the astonished looks of my mother
The next day, as I was sitting in the parlor and Lucy, said, in a firm voice :

vainly endeavoring to keep my thoughts fixed " Mr. Mayfield, dare I ask a great favor of
on the book I was reading how well I remem- you ? It is even this : to bestow upon me the

ber it, " Carlyle's Frederick the Great" priceless hand of your daughter. I know that
sharp ring came at the door, and before I could I do not deserve her, but the effort of my life
rise from my seat, the door opened, and a ser- will be to make her happy."

vant announced "Mr. Sunderland." I rose My father's astonishment deprived him for a
somewhat formally he bowed and offered his
;
moment of the power of speech. " Why, I
hand. I it, and my own, cold
could not refuse thought it was Lucy !" he exclaimed at length,

as ioe and iremhling, was held for one moment looking at my mother. "But, Sunflerland,
in that firm, soft ciasp, and tlien slowly relin- my good fellow, I give my full consent and
quished. He did not ask for Lucy, but I said : blessing and I see by my Mary's face that she
;

"My sister, I regret to say, is out, and my is well satisfied to have it so. God bless you
mother also.'* both!" Thus saying, he ki.ssed me tenderly,


244 godey's lady's book and magazine.

placed again in my lover's, and hur-

my hand considered the noblest, the best of men ? No
ried from the room to conceal his emotion. more unhappiness now, no more pale cheeks
Need I say more ? Need I describe my and tearful eyes and .lane, a.s she dresses me
;

mother's rage, Lucy's disappointment and cha- now, exclaims, joyfully :

grin, Ellen's playful reproaches at my carrying " No need of a doctor now, dear Miss Mary ;

oflf "the parti of the season," or far happier as I have often heard my mistress, your dear
still, my marriage soon after to him, whom I mother say, 'Happiness is the best doctor I'"

ACTING CHARADE. WEDLOCK.

First Syllable. our representative, I shall wish that Belinda

had not made me a bridemaid.
Adolphus Racket, a happy bridegroom.
Belinda Racket, his blushing bride. Pen. (Patronizingly.) My dear child I these
Penelope Ponder, ) n , -j , , , , things are entirely a matter of opinion and as ;
<-,.. SI
Clarissa Mildmay, r tlelinda s bridemaids.
j I have a great regard for Tom Sillaby, I hope

you will on this occasion honor him by your

Costumes.
attention, and believe him sensible at least,
Adolphus should bo attired iu a black suit and when he proposes the health of the bridemaids,
wliite neck-tie Belinda as mucli like a bride
;
and extols the merits and graces of our sex.
as the properties of the establisliinent will
admit Penelope and Clarissa iu light silk
;
Clar. {Scoy-nfully.) Bosh [^Ex it both.
1

dresses and white bonnets.

Second Syllable.
Scene I.Adolphps Racket having won the
heart and hand o/" Belinda Mildmay. the happy
couple have just returned from church, and are
Belinda Racket.
discovered in an ante-room with the tivo bride-
Penelope Ponder.
maids, Penelope 1'onder aHt/ Clarissa Mild-
Costtimes.
may. Bride and bridegroom ascend to the break-
Jcist. Penelope and Clarissa remain in con- Belinda in morning-gown, Penelope in morn-
versation. ing walking-dress.

Penelope. Dear Belinda ! I trust she '11 be Scene II. Belinda discovered sitting alone;
happy. How lovely she looked at the altar I
sadly and thoughtfully contemplating something
'
she holds in her hand.
did she not ?

Clarissa. Oh, charming ! And how full the Belinda. Oh, how soon have all my visions
church was By the way, did you see the
I of happiness disappeared What could possess
!

Tomkinses in the rector's pew ? me to open his dressing-case ? Certainly not

Pen. See them Of course I did for I looked
! ; curiosity, and most assuredly not with any idea
on purpose to get a glimpse of Harry when of finding such a proof of his baseness as this 1

Adolphus drew the ring from his pocket, and Oh, had I used the forbidden key, and dis-
said so boldly, "With this ring I thee 'wed!'" covered him a Blue-Beard, I could have borne
Clar. thought Belinda would have broken
I it better I I wish dear Penelope Ponder would

down when she came to the "obey;" and I come, that I might confide this awful secret to
believe, after all, she only muttered the word. her, and ask her advice. Would that I could
Pen. Most likely For mij part I would never
! burn this fascinating horror I hold in my hand ;
say it, whatever I might think But, Clarissa, I but no, it must be kept as a sad sad proof!
let us go, have commenced the
or they will (A Icnoch at the door, when enters Penelope.
breakfast without us, and I promised Tom Belinda rushes to her friend, and they embrace.
Sillaby to sit by him, to prompt him in a speech Belinda in tears.)
he has got up for the occasion, in which he in- Penelope. What, my dearest Belinda and I

tends to speak in the highest terms of bride- are you so soon unhappy ? Pray tell me at once
maids in general, and me in p,articular. the cruel cause of all this ?

Clar. Well, for mt/ part, I think the kindest Bel. (Hysterically, ichile shoioing locTcofhair.)
thing you can do will be to prompt him to leave There, Penelope I foun d in his dressing-case !

t alone ; for I 'm sure if that simpleton is to be Pen. (With affected dismay.) What, a lock of
 ACTIXG CHARADE ^VEDLOCK. 245

hair,and not yours Oil, Belinda, this is in-

! Adol. Belinda, yon are trying my patience
deed a serious cause of grief Have 70a de- I fearfully, and I tell you that it won't last
can
manded an explanation 1 much longer ; and if you don't give me some
Bel. No, I could not ; for I discovered it after opportunity of justifying myself, I shall be in
he had left this morning. Oh, what s/uilt I do ? a fearful passion directly. (Paces up and down
Tell me, dear Penelope. the room.) No ! (Raising his voice) Belinda
Pen. Well, my would advise the
dear I I Racket, passion 's not the word : I shall storm
most mature reflection before you mention to with rage.
him what you have found observe him closely, ; Bel. Ah, cruel man I just what I might have
and if he cares much for this {sneerinr/bj) trea- expected. (.1 knock at the door. Enter Pene-
sure, he will soon miss it, and the fact will be lope Poxdeb and Clarlssa MiLnjiAY. Both em-
evident in his manner but (sturtimi) Belinda,
: Jrare Belixda uv'M tears of sympalhy. Belinda
what horribly coarse hair Why none but a I whispers Penelope ) I 'm so glad yon have
to
Hottentot could have grown such stubble as come, dear, for I do believe he was just going
this. to kill me.
Bel. Ah, that 's what makes the matter Pen. Have you shown him the proof of his
worse I've always heard him say how he
I wickedness ?

admired wavy hair and you know, Penelope,

; B.l. No, I dared not
that mine neverwould (motirn/ulli/) even crinkle Pen. Well, do so now, and we will help you
without a world of plaiting. to intimidate him. Oh (with a shudder) what
Pen. Poor, disappointed child ! I am grieved a ruffian he looks I

that I must leave you now but act as I have ; Bel. Perfidious man Does not that fill yon !

told you, and to-morrow morning I will call with remor.se (Throws him the lock of hair.)
f

after breakfast, to hear how this terrible affair Adol. Where on eartli did you get this from 1
progresses. [ T/iei/ embrace, and curtain falls. Why, this is a piece of my poor pony's tail, cut
off when he was shot, in remembrance of the
many times he nearly broke my
neck Well, !

The Whole Word.

Belinda (laughing heartiltj), you must have been
Apolphcs Racket. on the look-out for a trouble when you made
Belinda Racket. one of this.
Penelope Poxdeb. Bel. Oh how foolish I have been. Will you
Clabissa Milomay.
forgive me, Adolphus ?

Adol. Well, yes ; but upon one condition

Costumes.
that yon promise to keep this relic of my poor
ADOLPnrs in lonnging-coat Belixda in morn- :
old pony as a memento of the only cause of
ing-dress ; Pexelope and Clakissa in morn-
ing walking-dress.
anxiety I ever gave, or mean to give you.
Pen. Well, now that you are restored to
ScE.VE III. Belixha and Adolphps sittimj at happiness, Belinda, I think I shall go home

breakfast. IJelinda siilUnli/ turning over the and on the improbability of uninterrupted
reflect
leaves of a book. Adolphcs looks up from the bliss, whether in married or single life. Sb
newspaper, and says
come along, Clarissa, and we will meditate
Adolphits. Well, Belinda, how much longer together.
are you going to maintain this extraordinary Clar. Oh no, thank yon. I 'm not in a me-
manner ? You are evidently put out about ditative mood Nevertheless, I '11
! go with
something, and I should uncommonly like to yon, if it 's only to put an end to this matri-

know what that something is so will you ; monial scene.

oblige me by an explanation ? [Curtsies, and the curtain falls.
Belinda. No, Adolphus, I will not I it 's suf-
ficient for you to know that I shall never be
happy again. Are yon not surprised to find how independ-
Adol. Well, that 's cool, and more than "snf- ent of money peace of conscience is, and how
I sought " wedlock" in the
ficient," seeing that much happiness can be condensed in the hum-
hope of securing your happiness as well as my blest home ? A cottage will not hold the bulky
own for life. furniture and sumptuous accommodations of
Bel. Don't tellAdolphus
untruths,
you : a mansion but if God be there, a cottage
;

married me to make me the most miserable of will hold as much happiness as might stock a
wives, and you have succeeded. palace.
20*
 ;

1
ME. AND MRS. PIDGEON'S VISIT TO THEIR CITY FRIENDS,
AS RELATED BY MR. PIDGEON.
BY EMILY B. CAEROLL.

I HAVE a snug little place in the country of she came, and looking on her face, I recognized
about one hundred acres. It is easy of access fair Mrs. Spendergrass, and eagerly I ran to
by steamboats, which come witliin two miles welcome her to our abode the home of earthly
of tile place, and at the landing stages are bliss. I must give it up I can't write poetry
always in readiness to convey passengers to a without telling lies to make up the lines. Truth
frequented hotel, the road to which passes in to tell, Mrs. Spendergrass, with her tribe of
front of our house. Being thus easy of access, children, was my special aversion. I don't
our house is filled with visitors from the first believe a worse set of youngsters ever lived,
of June to the middle of September, and in and they made so much noise they nearly
fact it is more like a country boarding-house deafened one. However, I made the "best of
than a private residence, only we never get a bad bargain," as the saying is and forcing a ;

any pay from our boarders. One year we had
as many as twenty visitors at one time, includ-
ing children and nurses, and at no time in the
summer do we have less than eight. At the
beginning of May my wife commences her pre-
parations every room is made as white as
: is
water, soap, sand, and whitewash can make it
carpets are taken up and mattings put down
feather beds exchanged for mattresses, white
curtains put up at windows and around bed-
steads, and a general fixing
order for groceries one would
for
an army is sent to our grocer in the city,
and the preserve closet undergoes a thorough
ghastly smile, I escorted her and her army to
the house, and went in quest of Rebecca. Now,
Rebecca is one of the dearest little souls that
ever lived, with not one particle of guile about
her, and she is never happier than when she
entertaining a houseful of visitors, or friends,
as she calls them ; so, although Mrs. Spender-
;
grass and her tribe had nearly plagued our
lives out for two summers, yet she ran into
the parlor and welcomed them all in a trans-
up ensues. An port of joy, kissing every child twice, and giv-
think sufficient ing a dozen extra ones to the twin babies. By
the by, Mrs. S. only had one baby when she
was here before this time she has brought
;

examination. Our house consists of a parlor, twins I only hope that she won't bring trip-
;

dining-room, library, storeroom, and kitchen lets if she should chance to come again. Well,
on the ground floor four bedrooms on the
; Rebecca flew about, had chickens killed and
second floor, and two neat attic rooms and ; picked in almost as short a time as it takes me
every room in tlie house has been crammed to write about and with her own dear hands
it ;

full. Let me give you an account of last sum- she set out the table, and arranged the tempt-
mer's visitors, merely premising that it is a ing fare upon it. Shall I describe one of our
fair sample of the four preceding summers. country suppers ? Rebecca is a famous house-
It was near the close of a warm day in the keeper, and rare suppers she can get, I tell
beginning of June, and the sun was slowly you. We had snowy bread and light flaky
sinking to his rest (ahem that opens fine, I ! biscuit, golden butter, broiled ham and chick-
think now if I can only keep on this way),
; ens, with cream gravy, ripe red strawberries,
when the stage might have been seen (and was with real cream to eat with them, and pre-
seen by me, to my sorrow) slowly wending its served peaches and honey, to say nothing of
way to our peaceful domicil. It paused at the
tea and coffee such as one seldom gets and
entrance to the grassy lawn that sloped gently the dearest little wife in the world to sit at the
downward to the road, the door was opened, head of the table. The dishes were filled np
the steps let down, and a lady, large and when we began supper, but there wasn't much
stately, descended, and advanced leisurely to in them when we were done, for the Spender-
ourabode. Close following on her footsteps came grasses have famous appetites. It took two
a youthful throng, of various ages and of vari- rooms to hold them at night. Mrs. Spender-
ous size, from the fair babe lulled in the nurse's grass, the twins, and two other little ones oc-
arms, to the brave boy just thirteen summers cupying one room the nurse and the two
;

old. (Bless my soul! I 'm a poet!) Nearer boys in the room adjoining, a trundle-bed hav-
2i$

#
 MR. AXD MRS. PIDGEOX S VISIT, ETC. 247

ing been removed to Mrs. S. 's room, aod a cot iu the hand of one of the boys so I coald ;

put up for tlie nurse in the next room by Mrs. guess pretty well what ailed my little one.
S.'s special request. Mrs. S. looked on smilingly. " I never take
At breakfast, the next morning, she informed any notice of children's quarrels," she said,
us that she wished her children to drink no- with an amiable little laugh " the little things
;

thing but new milk, and as much of that as can manage better without our interference.
they wanted, as she had heard that it was so My boys are perfectly delighted with the coun-
liealthy, and she herself wished green tea in try," she continued, "they are very lively,
the morning and at dinner, black tea for sup- spirited children, but there is not a hit of harm
per, cocoa for luncheon at ten o'clock and as ; in them. Jly Andrew Jackson is quite a hero,
she was nursing and very weak, she would but Henry Clay is more devoted to his studies.
like some of our currant wine every afternoon In factwe have feared he would injure his
at four o'clock. Soup, she must have every health by such close application, but I am
day for dinner but for the rest, she was very
; happy to see his spirits have been most excel-
easily suited, and hoped that we would make lent he has been here. My girls are
since
no change in our domestic arrangements ou wild little but I don't care how
pusses, too ;

her account. Now it was an easy matter to let much they romp in the country, there is no one
her have as much tea, and cocoa, and currant here to be annoyed by their noise. Have you
wine as she wanted; but it was not quite so any frnit ripe yet, Mr. Pidgeou f Ah yes, !

easy to manage about the milk and soup. We there is that tree of June apples will you be
had four cows, but two of them gave very little so kind as to send a servant to gather some for
milk, and the other two barely sufficed to keep me? I am so fond of apples." Thus the lady
us in milk aud butter and as for the soup, we
; rattled on without pausing for an answer till

were too far from the city to get fresh meat her final request.

often, and it would not keep long iu such warm Now we kept but two servants, and one of
weather. them was rather old, so I ventured to' hint to
Rebecca promised all Mrs. S. asked ; but Mrs. S. that perhaps her boys might like the
after breakfast shecame to me in a great deal sport of gathering and bringing her a basket of
of trouble to know what she should do, as the apples, as the tree was some distance from the
young Spendergrasses would drink a gallon or house, and Molly and Kitty were busy. The
two of milk a day. I told her to give them the boys Set off in high glee, and taking little Min-
skim milk, and they would never know the nie with me I returned to the library again,
difference and as to soap, she could give Mrs.
; locking the door. The poor little thing soon
S. chicken soup twice a week, and maybe slie fell asleep, so I laid her on a lounge, and cov-
could concoct some kind of vegetable soup by ered her with my handkerchief to keep off the
the aid of the cook-books, aud I would get flies. The library adjoined a store-room that
fresh meat as often as I could. With a light- opened into the kitchen, so I could easily hear
ened heart Rebecca left me to attend to her what was going on, and finding that Rebecca
domestic affairs and I locked myself up in
; had work to do np in the chambers, I called to
the library, hoping to have a little quiet, but her that Minnie was asleep, and I would take
every few moments there was an outbreak in care of her till she came down again. Minnie
the Spendergrass tribe, and at last I heard a was in the habit of getting ravenously hungry
scream from our own little ones, and heard oar and thirsty, when her mother found it most
little five years old Freddy iu high dispute inconvenient to attend to her. Rebecca was
with the Spendergrasses, and heard him say: very glad to hear that there was a chance for
" I 'U tell papa yon beat my little sister Min- her to go on with her work, without interrup-
nie !" hastened to the rescue, for little blue-
I tion from baby. She had scarcely got upstairs
eyed Minnie was the pet of our household, and when 1 heard the smooth voice of Mrs. S., in
I heard her sobbing violently
the little dar- the kitchen. "Molly," said she, " I have three
ling sunbeam whose every whim we had grati- thin flounced dresses I want yon to iron for me

fied. What was my astonishment to behold this afternoon. have brought them rongh
I

Mrs. S. sitting complacently in the midst of the dried, for I knew they would get tumbled so
tumult, and taking no notice whatever of the they would not be fit to be seen, so it was folly
conduct of her children. Little Minnie held to ironthem also the children's white dresses
;

ont her arms when she saw me, and I took her I want ironed, and there are a good many little
up and soothed her; but I saw red streaks all things I want washed for the babies, as soon as
ovttr her dear little fat arms, and saw a switch you can get time, for the nurse has no chance to
248 godey's lady's book axd magazine.

do these things. And see here, Molly, I want quite sick and very weak, so every day she
the sheets, pillow and holster cases exchanged had to have boneset tea made for her, a new
on our beds twice a week, and let me have six laidegg beat up with port wine, and a boiled
clean towels every day four fine, and two chicken for dinner. However, she showed some
coarse ones, and put a large pitcher in my room gratitude, which was more than any one else
besides the one that is there. Be sure to have did.
my cocoa ready at eleven precisely," and the At last the snmmer came to an end, the last
lady took her flounces out of the kitchen, leav- carriage load left the house, and weary and dis-
ing Molly to grumble after her for the next pirited poor Rebecca went to work to clear up
hour. the house after them. Mrs. Spendergrass and
"Who she thinks goin' to wait on her, I'd her children had a great knack at bre.aking
like to know," quoth Molly; "you, white china and glass, and you could generally guess
trash, thinks she can make me fly round arter pretty well as to their whereabouts by the
her, but she's mighty mistaken 'deed is she. crash that followed their footsteps. I never
Why own fal-lals ? She 's
can't she iron her saw one of them take up anything choice with-
roue too good, dear knows she aint. Need n't out apprehending its downfall, and it was very
think she 's goin' to make this nigger fly round rarely my apprehensions deceived me. But I
arter her, I've got do now, 'thont
'nufF to cannot begin to relate the damage done by our
waitin' on her and her Catch
rips of chilluns. visitors
how they inked and greased our car-
me a roastin' my eyes out ironin' of her fool- pets, and curtains, and broke everything of a
eries. I won't tech them, 'deed won't I."
breakable nature the pencil of Hogarth could
"Shet up your mouth," growled Kitty; alone portray such a scene of confusion as our
" 'tend to yer own work, that 's all you got to house presented, after the departure of our
do." visitors. My carriage horses were lamed, and
" I aint agoin' any
to tech her things at the carriage broken. I had a great variety of
rate," persisted Molly; "didn't work my-
I choice fruit trees, and a great abundance of
self ofFn my feet last summer, and what did fruit, and had calculated on making a consider-

she give me for it ? an old caliker bed gownd able sum of money from it, but our
the sale of
that I wouldn't bemean myself to wear. Poor, visitors carried off all that they did not eat,
mean trash !" except what was put up for next year's con-
I may as well say here that in the end Mrs. sumption in the sHape of preserves and pickles.
S. conLjnered, and the clothes were waslied and We had scarcely a fowl left on the place, none
ironed by Molly every week during her stay. in fact, but those that were too old to be eaten.
Little Minnie at last woke up, and cried for her The servants were completely worn out with
mamma, so I carried her to Rebecca, but sho waiting on the numerous wants of our visitors,
cried out, " For mercy's sake, Henry, don't and poor Rebecca looked like she had had a
bring that child here, for I 'm too busy to at- severe spell of sickness. Our little Minnie,
tend to her now," so we wended our way back from having no one to give her proper attention,
to the library, stopping first in the kitchen ate so mixch unripe fruit that it caused her a
where we got a bowl of bread and milk, and pretty severe attack of dysentery, which left .

for the first time in my life, I essayed to feed her pale and languid, and very unlike the lit- I

a hungry child. I succeeded beyond my ut- tie, fat, rosy, dimpled darling she had been

most expectation, only choking Minnie twice, heretofore. On the last day of August I
and not spilling more than half down her mounted one working horses, and took
of the
bosom, so, highly elated with my success, I refuge at a neighbor's house for a couple of
began amiable once more, and made no
to feel days, hoping the worst of the putting to rights
complaint at being kept waiting for my dinner, would be over by that time, but I was wofully
twenty minutes past the usual time. mistaken. For a week after that time I could
After dinner was over I resigned my charge not stir outside of the library door without
to Rebecca and settled myself down comfortably stumbling into a pail of whitewash, or a tub of
for the afternoon. hot water, to say nothing of pitching headlong
The nest day Mr. and Mrs. Honeywell, and over mops, brooms, etc. I pass over the de-
Mrs. Honeywell's two sisters came, and two tails of the house cleaning, merely remarking
days later Mrs. Register and her sick daughter. that Minnie was twice fished out of a tub of
I engaged another servant, and every part of soapsuds, and Freddy, trying to discover a
the house was crammed full, so we had to passage through the 'rout hall, stumbled over
sleep on the parlor floor. Miss Register was a broom, and took a seat in a pail of white-
 MB. AKD MRS. PIDGEON'S VISIT, ETC.
wash, fortunately doing no damage beyond
ruming a new pair of trowsers. At last order
rose oat of the chaos, carpets were tacked
down, curtains put up, and once more I could
go through the house without dauger of break-
ing my neck.
Some time September, I found that my
in
business required my presence in the city, and
as all our friends had given us pressing invita-
tions to visit them, I concluded to take Rebecca
and the children, and stay two or three weeks.
Bebecca wrote to Mrs. Spendergrass, telling her
she was coming to make her a visit, and would
be there in two or three days. We went to
the steamboat landing in our own carriage,
because Rebecca had so many presents to take
ber city friends, I disliked lilling up the stage
with them. When we got to the landing
Rebecca found an old friend of hers who re-
sided there, and who insisted on our staying
for the afternoon boat, instead of going in the
morning as we had contemplated. She said
tlie afternoon boat went for half-price. Now
Rebecca is a great hand for saving a penny, so
she at once set her mind on going in the after-
noon boat, though it was much slower than
the morning boat.
Well we were now hospitably entertained,
! clear of us.
and at last safely embarked in an old rattle-
trap of a boat, which, by the way, charged full
price, having raised the fare that very day.
We did not reach the city till dusk, and then a
chilly, disagreeable had set in, but we
rain
took our seats in the hack with light hearts,
feeling certain that in a few minutes we should
be in the warm parlors of Mrs. Spendergrass,
and partaking of a nice supper. had an idea
I Rebecca up
that the street in which the Spendergrass man-
sion vAs located was near the wharf, and so it
afterwards proved to be, but the hackman,
seeing we were from the country, had taken
advantage of our ignorance of the city, to drive
ns through all the alleys and little streets he
could find, till at last I poked out my head,
and told him if he didn't take us to the place
pretty soon I would get out and hunt it myself,
60 he pretended he had misunderstood me,
whirled round two or three corners, and de-
posited us in front of a large, stately mansion
where the Spendergrasses resided. To my
dismay, the house was perfectly dark, and
though I rang the bell till the knob came off
in my hand, no one came to the door. At
length an old woman who lived next door
poked out her head, and told me there was no
use in my " making that 'ere kind of a racket,
for Mrs. Spendergrass had got a letter from
249
some and had gone off to New York to
place,
see her mother, and tuk the children along,
and Mr. Spendergrass had got the house locked
np, and never came home till arter midnight,"
and with this agreeable news, the head was
popped in again, the window slammed down,
and I went back to the carriage in dismay, and
found Rebecca weeping, and .Minnie fretting to
be put to bed. Just as I had proposed going
to the nearest hotel, 1 felt my arm touched, and
looking around I saw a gentleman holding an
umbrella over his head, but hatless. In cour-
teous language he invited us to enter his house,
stating that bis wife had been a visitor of ours,
and had recognized ns from the window, and
wished very much to see us. Rebecca saved
me the trouble of replying by at once availing
herself of the invitation, and our host soon
ushered us into an elegantly furnished parlor,
where we were met, and w.armly welcomed by
a pretty, bright eyed little woman, whom we
both recognized at once as Mrs. How.inl, a lady
who had spent a few days at our house about
two years previous, and a distant relative of
the Spendergrasses. She apologized as well aa
she could for Mrs. S.'s conduct, but we both
felt that the house had been shut up to get
We learned afterwards that Mrs.
S.was a miser at home, and prodigal as she
was in dress, ber husband lived a dreadful life
with her ; for she hardly allowed her family
enough to eat while she spent countless sums
on her own person. This only confirmed my
previous suspicions. Mr. and Mrs. Howard
treated us with the greatest hospitality, and
after partaking ofasnperbsupper, Mrs. H. took
bedroom, furnished with a
to a
crib, cradle, and every comfort needed. The
children were unrobed, and laid in their com-
fortable beds, and Rebecca arranged her hair,
washed her face and hands, and, rested and
refreshed, prepared to return to the parlor. As
they were leaving the room, Mrs. Howard
paused awhile by Minnie's cradle. She stooped
down .md pressed a loving kiss on the round,
rosy cheek of the little sleeper. " I have lost
my one," she said sadly, while a tear
little
glistened in her dark eyes; "dear little lambs,
we do not know how dear they are to us till
we them."
lose
was a chilly, rainy evening, but none of
It
the outward discomfort reached us, as we gath-
ered around the pleasant fireside. It was an
evening long to be remembered by all of ns.
Our kind entertainers insisted on onr making
our home with them during onr stay in the
city ; but Rebecca was fearful our other friends
 .

250 GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

might feel hurt if we did not spend part of the
time with them; sowlien wereiiredlo our room
that night, it was decided that I should go the
next morning to call on our friends, and s-ie who
was most anxious to receive us, while Rebecca
remained in her present quarters till afternoon.
daughter at once insisted on our coming to
them to make our home. Miss Register in
particular seemed delighted to have the oppor-
tunity of returning our hospitality. She had
regained her health, and looked so pretty and
rosy, I scarcely knew her at first.

After a good night's sleep, and a first-rate Mr. and Mrs. Howard were very sorry to
Ijreakfast, I my expedition. Thi
started out ou have us leave them, and exacted from us a
first went to was Mrs. Cameron's. I
place I promise to spend a week with tliera before wa
was admitted by a dirty looking girl, who returned home. In parting with them we pre-
ushered me into a small room on the lamling, sented them with some choice grapes and
and just over the kitchen, as I discovered by oranges raised in our own greenhouse, and
the smell of cooking, and the sound of voices, some very fine We also carried a
peaches.
" Who is it, Biddy ?" I heard Mrs. Cameron peck of the peaches to Mrs. Register, a bushel
say of very fine sweet potatoes, and a ham of our
" Here 's his name, mum, on this bit of paste- own curing. We were hospitably welcomed,
board," the girl replied. and ushered into a handsome suite of apart-
" Mr. Pijgeon oh, horrid I do hope he
I I ments on the second floor, consisting of parlor,
liasn't come to stay here. I do hate to be dressing-room, and bedroom. But our meals 1

plagued with company. Here, Biddy, just pin Let me describe our first dinner, which was a
this collar for me, and bring me down my new fair sample of what was to come. It was set

cap the one with the blue flowers." out in great style, and made considerable show,
I heard a door open and shut but in a few ; and we had five courses. In the first place we
moments I heard Mrs. Cameron open the door had a thin, watery kind of soup, tasting of no-
again, and say : thing but salt and potatoes. A beef bone, with
" There 's nolwdy in the parlor, Biddy where very little meat on it, and two dishes of watery
did you leave Mr. Pidgeon ?" vegetables made up the first course. Then we
"Sure I took him in the little room where had a small piece of roast beef, or beef & la mode
the fire is it was so cowld in the parlor."
; Mrs. Register called it but it was so tough I
;

" Mercy ou the stupid girl I" I heard Mrs. C.
exclaim, impatiently. "Go, Biddy, and show
liim into the parlor."
Mrs. Cameron received me with a face full of
smiles, and made many inquiries after her dear
Mrs. Pidgeon and the sweet children but I;
presume it is hardly necessary to inform my
reader that I refused all invitations to stay
with her, notwithstanding that they grew very
pressing, when she found that there was no
danger of my staying.
I next went to Mrs. Lander's. She, too, re-
ceived me with many smiles, asked where Re-
becca was making her home, and invited us to
come and take tea with her before we returned
home. From there I went to Mrs. Bradley's.
She regretted very much that some friends of
Mr. B.'s were coming to make her a visit;
otherwise, they would be so happy to have
dear Rebecca make her home there but the ; we had smoky tea and weak coffee, some black-
next time we came, we must be certain to make
them a good long visit. I will not bore my
reader with a full account of my visits to some
three or four more of Rebecca'syrienrfs, none of
gave it up in despair. There was a dish of
pork chops, nearly all bone, a tough fowl, and
some side dishes of badly-cooked beets and
carrots, and sweet potatoes boiled till the water
could be wrung out. Irish potatoes we had in
various forms, omelette, balls, and plain mashed
potatoes. The bread was sour the butter
strong. For our third course we had a hard,
tough mass of dough, with raisins boiled in it,
that Mrs. Register called cold plum pvidding.
The sauce tasted strongly of cheap brandy.
Then we had rice balls, and some pies from the
baker's. After these were removed, we had
custard and cake sponge cake like leather.
To conclude, we had some of our own fruit,
some bad almonds and raisins, and a bottle of
cheap wine. Mrs. Register helped us with the
greatest afiability, and was as much at her ease
as if everything was of the best. For supper
looking preserves, tough cake, a little cheese,
sour baker's bread, and bad butter. But bad
as the fare was, there was not enough of it, and
I was obliged to go to an eating-house every

whom showed any desire for our company, and day to satisfy my hunger. I smuggled in
I resolved to try only one more place, and if I oysters to Rebecca every night, and kept her
had no better success there, I would engage well supplied with cakes and crackers for the
board at a hotel. But Mrs. Register and her children. With many smiles and blushes Miss
 ) ; ;

MR. AND MRS. PIDGEON S VISIT, ETC. 251

Register informed Rebecca that she was to be it would not be convenient for us to kei'p open
married very soon to a young lawyer, and they liouse for OUT friendsany longer. I have never
were to spend a year or two in Franco and had any reply to it but we don't look for the
;

Italy. Her niotlier accompany them.

was to Speudergrasses this summer. Rebecca was a
I learned afterwards that tliey had been en- little worried about what I had done, but con-

gaged for some time, but the mother had reso- sented to let me take my own w,iy. Taking
lutely opposed the match on account of the all things into consiileration, I don't think wo
poverty of the lover. This was what had shall have much cause " Mr. and
to regret
affected Miss Register's health ; and, fuaring Mrs. Pidgeon's Visit to their City Friends."
that she would go into a decline, her mother
was at length forced to consent. From what
1 had seen of their mode of living, I had come THE C.iSKET OF THE YEAR.
to the conclusion that the Registers were in
Br WrLLIB E. PABOR.
rather indigent circumstances, and really pitied
Mrs. Register for striving so hard to keep up Pearl the Ninth. S>^)tember.
appearances, when she bad not the means SrREiTB September, goddess of the graio,

of living as she desired. Something of this I With stiuely steps precedes the loaded wain ;

said to Mrs. Iloward, when, to my great sur- The grapes that ripen in the grange repeat
The sonnds that float across the fields of wheat
prise, she told me that Mrs. Register was worth
over a hundred thousand dollars, and had not The hirds that linger, chat among the sheaves
About the shortened days and lengthened eves ;
a poor relative living. Her daughter had a
And so the birth-month of the autnmn brings
snug little fortune, too, independent of her
Something of shadow on its golden wings;
mother. .So it was only meanness made her
Some sad reminders of meridians past.
live as she did, for she did not spend one-third
Of days that vanish, months that do not last
of her income, so Mrs. Howard informed me.
And of that sure declining plane of years
" Her daughter is exceedingly mortified by her That slopes to a poainsuLa of fears,
mother's conduct," continued Mrs. H. "but ; While on the further shore the surges beat
see cannot get her to act differently. Her ser- And echoes from the " unknown sea" repeaL
vants tell some ludicrous tales about her house- "embers" of the fading year,
First of the
hold economy." I felt really glad that her And empress of earth's cornucopian cheer,
pretty daughter was going to get a good hus- With sad forebodings we the coming greet.
band, for she is a good, sensible girl, and the And shape our plans life's altered views to meet.
Howards speak very highly of her lover. We At first a gi>lden glory covers all
The face of nature then, a sombre pall
spent a week with the Howards, and enjoyed ;

ourselves extremely. In company with them AH slowly drops, and cloud and wind again
Betray the coming of the "latter rain ;"
we visited the different places of amusement,
While here and there the green leaves change to brown,
and went to seeeverything that was worth see-
la sign of autumn's coronal and crown.
ing. We parted from them with regret, for
we had formed a strong friendship for them
during our stay. We exacted from them a
M.\RY.
promise to return our visit next summer.
With regard {Reurgam.
to our visitors of preceding sum-
mers, I fancy we shall not be plagued by many BT a. H. s. HULr..
of them. We received a long and flowery Like some geotle streamlet mnrm'ring
epistle from Mrs. Speudergrass on our return Softly o'er its pebbly bed.
home, expressing her great regret at being com- Like the timid violet drooping
pelled to leave koine, and thus missing our agree- Mournfully its dewy head
As the cloudless sky of summer.
able company. She sincerely deplored that
As the stilly hours of night.
she had not received our letter soon enough to Thus thy life-time now thou 'st left us,
delay her visit, and hoped that we would soon Glorying in eternal light.
visit the city again, as she was very desirous
Tet it were not well to mourn thee,
to see ns all. She would try to make us a long The surcharged heart its grief must bear:
visit nest summer
she enjoyed herself so So pure thy life, so calm and holy,
much with her dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Pid- Angels love to have thee there.
geon. My sole answer was to send her an en- Then weep not, though the dearly loved
Lies shrouded in the silent grave.
velope containing the card of the proprietor of
Through life in Jesus' steps she moved,
the nearest hotel, and a few lines saying that And worshipped him who died to sav.
252 godey'3 lady's book axd magazine.

as you once could, cannot dress, come, and go,

GROWING POOR GRACEFULLY.
you show solicitude lest you should be neglect-
BT MELICEKT IRWIN.
ed if you take friends to task, and ascribe to
;

Gkowing poor, harder than the actual

is unworthy motives what may or may not have
Ibeing so. " Poverty is not so terrible a thing been meant for slights if you endeavor to en-
;

when we once get t^own to it^^^ said a witty and list their sympathies by recounting your own

sensible old lady, speaking from the riches other disadvantages, ten to one they will drop off.
own Admired for her beauty and
experience. Naturally enough you will have driven them
her wit as a Washington belle in her younger away. on the other band, you meet them as
If,

days, after-years, though full of trials, loss of old you do not let a certain scantiness
; if

of property among them, had not taken away begotten of circumstances creep into your man-
the life sparkle. Her hearty welcome and ner if they find the same sunshine about you
;

lively sally were genial and enlivening ever. as of old, do you suppose they will mind a
The ordeal had been safely passed for poverty ; few inconveniences ? Not they. Live on the
is not unlike certain cutaneous diseases. It surface. Do not let life narrow down. Do
is not dangerous unless it "strikes in." Some- not let the necessary carefulness " strike in,"
times the system is strengthened ever after. my friend. There are some who, out of their
But this is the very point, to " get down to life, and a natural appreciation of the
largess of
it 1" Transitions are always more or less dan- beauty of harmony, are led easily on. We
gerous. Since long-kept as well as quick-made know one, the daughter of one of our well-
fortunes are ever in jeopardy, and there is known artists. She had known wealth and
never one so poor that he cannot be poorer, luxury. When through misfortunes their house
it iswell to know how to make the descent grew small (the frame had been that of one of
with least awkwardness, to say nothing of in- their barns), the hospitality of its inmates gave
surance from dislocations. It will not do to itslow rooms elastic properties ; beds could lie

ignore the step, affecting still to keep the level extemporized welcomes were always waiting.
;

by " keeping up appearances." You remem-
ber the story of De Stael,
Parisian coterie awaited with flattering expec-
tation,the empressement of whose entrance
taxed even Parisian politeness to repress a
smile. The effort of the many to " keep up"
Incidents of loss suggested by need of soma
whom the choice accustomed article were told with irresistible
humor, some unconsciously turned sentence
perhaps giving a gleam of the pathos that lay
beneath. The world was met frankly, with as
little parade of loss as concealment. Once with-

is no less ridiculous in effect than the forget- in the small, plain house, bare even of blinds,
fulness of .Madame in raising her dress before the harmony of arrangement, the charm of pre-
instead of behind, as she blandly made the sence, made one forget they were not enter-
awkward descent at the entrance de la salon tained in the former handsome home. And
There is nothing undignified in coming down why not ?

stairs, only do it naturally, and don't put any have not a doubt in the world that though
I

airs on about it. Poverty is a word we use Mrs. Gustavus d' Orville has a conservatory
here relatively of course, and according to spe- and an elegant silver service, if your mind
cific signification. The lady who, obliged to cur- has congeniality with hers, if your welcome is
tail expenses, takes a less eligible suite of rooms, cordial, if your muffins are nice, and your oofi'ee
and writes home she reduced to a miserable
is is clear in its amber stream, your simple china

pittance for pin-money, naming a sum that and your fragrant hyacinths in their crystal
some of our udustrious well-to-do people would
i vases will give none other than pleasant im-
consider a snug fortune for life, really suffers. pressions for the lady to take away with her,
Needlessly, and wickedly we may say, but, re- and she have been charmed with her en-
will
membering the power of education, no less tertainment. So if you do not envy your friend
really. Whether dwelling in white-washed or her superior elegancies when she returns the
frescoed walls, that man is poor whose wants compliment, I see no reason why you may not
are beyond his income. have all the enjoyment of mutual regard and
There is a great deal of sentimentalism in intercourse. There is a great deal of moon-
the talk about sneers at poverty. Poverty of shine about different circles, social barriers,
pocket is much less often in reality subject of etc. And probably for many a long day to
ridicule than poverty of soul. People will be come there will be.
apt to think of you pretty much as you think Surroundings influence spirit, we know, and
of yourself. If because you cannot entertain we long to have grace, and fitness, and the
 GROWING POOR GRACEFULLY. 00
0.=i

poetry of convunience about us. But the best convenient, you know," will be like a swarm uf

gifts are every man's. We can have God's

all stinging iusects buzzing about your ears. People
pure and sunshine free.
air That is a great will know you are on stilts all the time. Do
deal. a moderate share of l.ibor we can
W'itli not flatter yourself they will think that it is

all command most scrupulous neatness. If your natural height. You may hate to come
we cannot ^o abro.id from place to place, which down. It would hiive been better if you had
in this beautiful 'world is a deprivation, surely never accepted such support. But how much
we cau have plainer furniture, less variety iu freer you will be on your own footing Y'ou !

toilette, more simple food, and let the life of will feel a divine right to what you do have,

the busy, toiling, suffering, achieving world in and a new sense of property in terra Jinna, the
upon us through books and papers. Put aside free air, and sunlight, and God's beauty lying

a pleasure of sense, and buy a picture, aud all around you.

forget the want iu training a plant.
"Ah, yes !" somebody says "but starting;

poor in life, knowing what you have, and

where it is, being able to make calculations to
GOSSIP ABOUT GLOVES.
advantage, and harmonize expenditures is less

vexing to the soul, is different from 'growing Fkom the very earliest times gloves were used
poor' the subject you started with. To have to preserve the bauds against thorns ; and in
the incomings barely sufficient for supporting 814 they were distinguished by pairs. In the
foundation of a system long maintained, whose ninth century they had become so universal
superstructure there is no means to patch up ;
that even the church thought them a necessary
to be living iua tumble down house, perhaps article of dress. Strutt thinks they were in-
without ability for repairs to be obliged to ; troduced iu the tenth century ; while in the
give up the gardener, when the flower-beds of thirteenth century ladies commenced wearing
course will give themselves up to weeds ; to be them. In the seventeenth century a pair of
obliged to part with the carriage for mainte- gloves cost 30sin ltfU4, the gloves and garters
;

nance for the horses to have everything gene- given away at a wedding amounted to 1000/.
rally disjointed aud of non-correspondence !" Disraeli says, "that at the sale of the Earl of
It is some shades worse, however. Break up Arran's goods, April 6, 1759, the gloves given
the "establishment," and try life compact and by Henry Vlll. to Sir Anthony Denny, were sold
unhampered on the small capital of the rem- for 38/. 17s." At the battle of Agincourt, the
nant. Discharge every claim and begin anew. young warriors wore ladies' gloves and garters
And especially if you have a youthful family, on the helmet but when fashion declined, it
;

do this for their mental health, and for the en-
grafting of just ideas of expenditure and living.
Or if, as is often the case, entangling claims
prevent this course, move
best preserved part of the house, that perhaps
has been hitlierto shut up, and make all there
as beautiful as possible. Level the flower-beds
save only a border somewhere in sight, that
you cau enjoy and care for yourself, and let the
fresh greeu grass God provides spread its eme-
rald mantle. Away with pretension of any
kind ! Well-kept grass is
choked To grow poor gracefully is to
flowers.
bring our wants within our income. Beach
out and bring them in, as did Noah his dove,
till the waters abate, and you shall ride safely,
even over the mountain tops. There is one
temptation. You can no more grow poor grace-
fully, by making of debts, than you can go
down stairs gracefully on stilts. Part with
into the cheeriest,
better than weed-
fell to coxcombs and servants. Gloves in the
reign of Elizabeth were very dear, in conse-
quence of being perfumed wit'u a scent recently
brought from Italy. Sir Thomas More, soou
after he decreed in favor of a Mrs. Croaker
against Lord Arundel, received from the lady a
pair of gloves with forty angels (or "glove
money") inside. "It would be against good
manners," said the Chancellor, "to forsake a
gentlewoman's New Y'ear's gift, and I accept
the gloves ; their 'lining' you will be pleased
otherwise to bestow." Again, challenging by
the glove continued down to the reign of Eliza-
beth, as appears by an account of a duel fought
in Tothill-fields, in 1571. Among the objects
of antiquity at a late exhibition might have
been seen various gloves, the most conspicuous
pair being those given to Bishop Juxon, by
Charles I. on the scaffold at Whitehall, Jan.
30, 1C49, and just before the ill-fated king de-

I everything rather than bear the weight and

p.alsy of debt. And we do not mean large in-
livered to the "good bishop" that memorable
word " Remember !" the meaning of which all
cumbrances alone, but small debts, and "so later historians have been unable to explain.
VOL. LSVII. 21
 EITA'S MASTER.
4ARY W. JAHVRIK.

" I 'm sorry you 're going, master !" "Well, and why shouldn't yon have the
The words ended iu a gusty little sot), followed same credit as Grace Ordway, or any other
by another and another in quick succession. scholar, and more, too, if your lessons were
Then a rain of tears dropped from the pair of as well, or better prepared ?" asked Mr. Lock-
dusky eyes half hidden behind the tall desk in wood, quite amused.
the old school-room. "I know I ouc/ht to but the other teachers
;

The "master," a slight, handsome youth of never used to do so, because Grace has got a
!"
twenty-two, with high intellectual forehead, rich father, and I 'm only a poor little girl
and deep gray eyes, started quickly from the This reply was given with a flash of Rita's
tall desk whence he had been laying out a pile black eyes that told how keenly she had felt
of books to be brought back no more to Whea- the injustice of the fact she uttered.
ton school-house, the scene of his past winter's "How do you know that was the reason,
labors, let fall the lid, and, coming round to Rita ?" asked the young man, surprised at htr
the little midnight-eyed girl, who had crept up discernment.
so noiselessly, drew her gently toward him. " I can't tell how, but I do know it !" per-

Seating himself in the chair upon the platform sisted the girl stoutly. " And I told mamma
which had been his throne during hisj)otentate- of it, but she said I mustn't mind, but must
skip, he caressingly stroked the cloud of dark try to learn all I could, for learningwas better
curls, and lifted the little tearful face under- than money or fine clothes."
neath to his own. "Your mother was quite right. And it

" Why, Rita, I thought you had gone home made you feel better, didn't it?" asked the
with the other scholars I" he said gently. teacher.

"But I couldn't, master I felt so bad and "Well, a little bit," replied Rita, slowly;
sorry !" she sobbed. then she added inquiringly, " I hated the
" And what makes you so sorry? because I teachers just the same, though, but I tried to
am going, little Rita ? Your school will com- put 'em down under my books when
I was

mence again in a few months, and you will studying and when
; I saw how proud and
have another teacher as good, or better, than I, grand the rich girls felt, I said, easy to myself:
I dare say !" he said in a low, soothing voice. '
You 've got the nicest frocks, and kid boots,
" Oh, no, I shan't I never did have any
! but / always have the best lessons, and p'raps
teacher so good as you, and I won't have an- when I am grown up, I can teach school and
other!" persisted the little ten-year-old girl. buy mamma and I as handsome clothes ;' and I
" Nobody is so good as you be, Mr. Lockwood !" mean to do it, Mr. Lockwood !" she said.
Bayard Lockwood smiled. Such utter faith "And a brave teacher my little Rita will be,
in his "goodness," as little Rita Warner so I 'U venture to predict I" said the young man,
passionately avowed, was not exactly in keep- stroking her head. " I shall hope to hear of
ing with the customary unbelief of suspicious lier success when her school-days are over. I

human nature. shall never foryet you, Rita !"

"And !(% do you think I am so 'good,' This recalled those thoughts of parting,
Rita ?" he asked. which their conversation had momentarily dri-
"Oh, I don't thinl, I know!" replied the ven from the girl's mind. Her exquisitely chi-
child, eagerly. "Didn't you make the great selled scarlet lips quivered, a scared expression
boys and girls ashamed to make fun of me leaped into her dark eyes, " like brown birds
when I wore my old frock and leather shoes ? flying to the light," and her delicate little
Didn't you give me a nice^eography and Testa- hands clung beseechingly over Mr. Lockwood's
ment myself? Didn't you send mamma
all to arm. It seemed as if she would have held him
such great sweet oranges when she was sick ? by her tiny strength ; then, of a sudden, she
and tlien didn't you take ei'er so much pains to burst into tears.
help me in my and praise me just as
lessons, "Don't feel so badly, my dear!" said Mr.
much as Grace Ordway, when I had a perfect Lockwood, touched by her distress. " I must
recital ion?" go away now from Wheaton. I have got my
254-
 :

eita's master. 255

own studies to attend to, in the great scbool, Rita looked tip after she had nestled there a
called a college, come and teach this
I left, to moment. "You aren't angry with me, sirf"
winter vacation at Wheaton, for I am forced to she asked, timidly, but with a happy smile.
keep school to help myself along, as you are " No, my dear cliild. AVhat made you think
planning to do one day, Rita. I must leave you that?" replied Bayard Lockwood, gently and
now but I shall not forget any of my scholars
; caressingly, smoothing back her curls.
nor you, of all others, Rita and we shall meet ;
" Because I was naughty, and spoke as I
again some time and, meanwhile, you must
; ought not to," she said, humlily. " 1 am sorry
continue the same studious girl as ever, and to letyou go, my dear master, hut I 'm going
hold out in your purpose to get an education, to be willing now, and be always a good girl,
remembering that '
learning is better than and rememberall you have ever said to me when
houses 01 lands 1' I shall not forget you, little yon 're away. And I 've got something I want
Rita." you to let me give you to remember me by
" Oh, I 'm afraid you will! and then I should it's all my own to do as I please with. I

want to die 1" sobbed out the child passionately. worked it for yon." And she drew from be-
" I won't let you go there '11 be nobody else I tween the leaves of her geography^ pretty
left to love me I" And she wound her slender book-marker, with the words " Remember Me"
arms about his neck, and pressed her wet crim- neatly wrought in blue silk. "Now, yon will
son cheeks to his. keep that in your Bible to think of me by, dear
Bayard Lockwood was struck by this utter master," she said, coaxingly, laying it between
devotion and uhandon of the girl's nature. He the leaves of the book she took up as she spoke.
suffered her vehemence to spend itself; then "I thank you, Rita!" said the young man.
unclasped her arms, put her a little from him, " I shall not forget you. You
are a good little
and surveyed her thoughtfully. girl, to think of and I know you will
me thus ;

Rita could not comprehend this, and thought never cease to remember your teacher, nor
she had offended him. strive to press onward in your studies. But it
" Have I made you angry with me, master?" grows late, and your mother will be wpndering
she asked, apprehensively. what keeps her daughter. Now good-by and ;

He did not answer, for he w.13 studying her God bless my dear little Rita!" and he drew
as he never had before. For the first time, it her to him, and pressed a kiss on her pure
flashed over him that that poor child was richer young forehead.
in her dower of beauty than any pampered The gray twilight of a March afternoon was
scion of wealth or aristocracy in the old town settling over the old school-house when Bayard
of Wheaton. Her
cheeks were crimson as
soft Lockwood turned the key for the last time, left
the heart of the tender damask rose her lips, ; the door-step, and bent his way to the substan-
sensitively working, were finely cut and scar- tial farm-house where he had boarded during

let her low, broad white forehead was shad-

; that winter term at Wheaton.
owed by a cloud of purple-black curls her ;
" And now, ho for the welcome halls of old
arching throat was graceful as a young swan's ;

Dartmouth again and next July for my gradu-
her form was lithe and symmetrical she was ; ating honors and the valedictory!" lie said in
all grace and beauty, from the crown of her triumph, as that evening he packed his trunk,
little head to the curve of her slender Spanish wherein, among his books, he had carefully
instep, not hidden by the thick leather shoes lain away his Bible, with Rita's gift between
she wore. its leaves.
"She will be beautiful and talented!" he And poor little Rita ! she, too, had lain
said, mentally, "and with that strong, rich aside her school-books, e.aten but little supper,
nature which is so royal a gift to woman, if it and gone to bed early, to weep herself asleep,
does not lead her to unhappiness. She will be with her crimson cheek wet against her pillow.
submissive to those she loves, and proud and
defiant to those she hates. Kindness will win Ten years may be long in slipping on the
her ; coldness, or patronizing airs will harden thread of Time but once told, they seem like
;

or rouse, but never crush her. She will be the beads the nun has counted upon her ro-
anlike other women superior to them in gifts, sary.
and, good influences sway, in disposition
if
;
They had been ten short years and one, a
Heaven shield her from the contact of nnkind- saddened one, for its memory was marked by
ness!" Involuntarily his arms had gathered a slender white headstone in the Wheaton
her to bis breast. church-yard to the orphaned Rita Warner.
 ;

!56 GODEY S lady's BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

At twenty, she was a child no longer but a ; who rented suits of apartments to her lodgers
woman, gifted and beautiful; young, beautiful, came into the morning parlor of Mrs. Ambler.
and standing beneath the blue sky of that "The invalid Signora in the apartment above,
clime where art and beauty are ever vernail, Miladi, is taken sick veri sick, with hemor-
though old Rome lies buried Italy. And what rhage, I believe you call, of the throat. Her
had brought the little school-girl of that dis- maid only, and leetel child, be with her
the ;

tant New England country village to the Old Signer being gone to walk. It is veri sudden
;

World ? will not Miladi, or the young Signora, come

The question has a very common answer. up?"
Rita's beauty was not so valuable a possession " Me, mamma ? I 'm sure the sight of blood
as her talents they had served her need when
; would make me faint on the spot I could not I

she came face to face with the hard, cold world. go for the world You must, mamma I" ex-
I

Like many another, whose brain must coin claimed Florence Ambler, who sat trifling over
Ilieir bread, Rita had accepted her fate. She a few sketches an artist acquaintance had
was governess in a purse-proud, parvenue family brought in.
and thej^ to " finish off" their eldest daughter, " But really I am so unused to illness It !

had come abroad to make the grand tour and ; must be that frail young lady I noticed a morn-
Rita, with her two young charges, had acoom-
ing or two since the new arrivals. Her hus-
jianied them. band was bringing her up stairs in his arms.
Florence Ambler was haughty, superficial, He was very dktinijiie looking. Really, you
but, unfortunately, beautiful ; unfortunately, had better go up, Florence They may be !

because, in her case, it was the soulless beauty people of rank," urged Mrs. Ambler.
of the statue, or the exquisite porcelain shrine "The Signer is veri noble, and his poor ladi
wherein burns no lambent flame. She was veri beautiful but the Roman winter will not
;

soulless, heartless, insipid. There was a bro- findher here," said the matron shaking her
ther the eldest of the Ambler family who had head. " She is fading. A good many Inglese
followed his relatives abroad, through France, come to die in Italie."
Germany, and now to Italy, solely for the pur- At the first words, the governess had risen
pose of persecuting the beautiful governess from her books at a table in the farther corner
with his devotion. It had never been con- of the parlor and now came forward.
;

ceived by Frederick Eustace Ambler that so " Madam, if /can be of hwlp, show me to tlie
humble a personage as his younger sisters' lady's rooms !" she said decidedly.
teacher would not feel honored by the offer of " Signora is veri compassionate !" answered
his heart and hand. It was Rita's greatest the landlady, leading the way from the apart-
trial to
endure his constant attentions and ; ment.
it was the terror of both Mrs. Ambler and "Teachers have nerves!" said Florence
Florence, lest Frederick should actu.ally pro- Ambler, settling herself again to the Views of
pose to "the governess." "What would the Rome by Moonlight. "I dare say she will
world and their set at home say ? A teacher! make herself useful."
She should never have accompanied them, had It was a sad scene that presented itself, and
they foreseen this but then, Fred might have
; enlisted her womanly sympathy, when Rita
decided to stop at home, too they would dis-
: Warner entered the suit of apartments, one
miss her now, but her services were really so flight above, on the stone staircase. The rooms

valuable she understood French and German were handsome, and richly furnished and the ;

so well that she was really of use to them, and articles of travelling gear lying around, half
now, she was equally familiar with Italian." unpacked, betokened wealth on the part of the
And so they concealed their ire and Florence ; new-comers but a young and exquisitely beau-
;

took it as her especial cue to promote an ac- woman, pale as marble, and with her rich
tiful

quaintance between her brother and a hand- morning robe stained with a crimson tide, lay
some young Boston belle who was also "doing back on the couch, supported by her maid,
the foreign ;" and Mamma Ambler kept Miss while a lovely boy of two summers looked on
Warner busy with extra studies for Misses in childish alarm.
Ilattie and Grace, while she felicitated herself " Mamma is very sick, and papa isn't here,
upon her management. But "I'homme pro- lady," lisped the boy, as Rita entered. In a
poses, and VDieu disposes." They might have rapid tone, the maid explained that her mis-
spared themselves their manoeuvring. tresshad suddenly been attacked that her ;

One day, the Juno-looking Roman matron master had only gone into the street to mail


RITA S MASTER. 257

letters home to America, and would return so with him. Godown, I'Morence ! Y'our morn-
presently. " Tlie ladies were kind to eouie ing neijligee is very becoming."
would tliey assist her in making her mistress "But, if you please, ma'am, the gentleman
comfortable ?" asked for Miss Warner."
With rapid movement, Rita gently drew off Mrs. Ambler thrust the card back into the
tbe morning-robe, and repl.aced by a fresh it servant's hand as thongh it were a red-hot
wrapper bound up tbe long, silky hair which
; coal. Florence darted a glance of rage and hate
had escaped from its comb; then seated her- toward the school-room.
self by the side of the couch. " I 'm sure, mamma, / never fancied him ;

The invalid lady, who had been watching
her with her Instrous bine eyes, reached out
her iLind, and said, in a sweet whisper : " I
thank you, gentle friend Do not be alarmed
he must have low tastes, to keep up an ac-
quaintance with a teacher."
" A deuced talented and handsome fellow
! and dangerous for a rival One of the first
1

/am not. These attacks are not new to rae : lawyers in the city, they say, sis I" said Fred-
but I wish Bayard luad been with me. But erick Eustace Ambler, nervously.
hark he is coming 1"
!
" A rival !' My son forgets of whom he is
'

There was a step on the marble staircase
the door opened. ''Bayard!" Slie knew him;
but she had changed, and she was glad Bayard
Lockwood did not recognize her.
; talking in tbe presence of his lady mother and
sister," said Mrs. Ambler, icily.
Frederick Eustace only answered by a cool
glance then, with rueful and anxious counte-
;

"My wife! Alice!" and he came forward nance, vanished from the room.
and bent over her with tender solicitude. " This " Deuce take my chances with the proud
was sudden." little iceberg, if that splendid fellow comes
" Yes, very sudden, Jlr. Lockwood. You had here !" he exclaimed, as he walked down stairs.
but just left. This lady was so kind as to come Meantime, Rita Warner's light feet had
in with the landlady," said the maid, in ex- pressed the roses of the Persian carpet in the
planation. sumptuous drawing-room below her white ;

Mr. Lockwood expressed his thanks by a hands were snatched to be held in a strong
courteous bend of his head then again bent ; clasp; and the crimson roses of her childhood
over his wife, who lay like a tired child, hold- were flaming anew upon her cheeks under a
ing his hands fait within her own. tide of burning words.
"Send for a physician!"
he exclaimed, " Rit.a, hear me now," began Bayard Lock-
turning to the landlady, who immediately de- wood, r.apidly. " A year has passed, and I may
parted with his order. speak freely. Wb.at must you have thought
"And, in the mean time, let me t.ike away of me all those years ? I was almost stunned

yonr boy till his mother is better," said Rita, when I met you there in Italy ; but that was
in a calm voice. too solemn an hour, beside Alice's death-bed,
" Thanks !" said the gentleman, without tospeak of the past. But, Rita, I always loved
turning. "Walter, go with the lady." you ! Those were precious letters that passed
"And leave mamma f" asked the little fel- between the young school-girl and the law
low, sweetly. student in the four years that followed my
" Only for a few minutes !" said Rita, gently, leavingWheaton and, so sure as One above
;

drawing him away from tbe apartment. knoweth all hearts, I loved you, and meant,
when the struggle was won, to ask you to be-
A year had passed and Mrs. Ambler and ; come my wife. But Fate came between us.
her elegant daughter sat in a dressing-room of Alice's father, theJudge with whom I studied,
theirsumptuous home in Boston. Frederick was my and his only child frail
benefactor ;
had lounged in, and now sat buried in the
as a rose-leaf loved me. He came to me with
depths of a velvet chair, intent on studying this It lay in my power to make her happy,
:

through the open door the governess, who was perhaps to prolong her life. I was bound to him
with her young charges in the adjoining school- by gratitude I could not refuse him. I be-
;

room, much to the annoyance of his mother came Alice's husband for three years I shielded
;

and sister. The bell rang, and a servant brought her most tenderly she grew weaker I took
;
up a card. her to Italy. Y'on know the result. Neither
" Bayard Lockwood." the soft sea-breezes of the Mediterranean, nor
" Ah tliat dislinrjul gentleman we met in
! the mild airs of the Roman Campagna could
Rome last year His poor wife! I sympathized
1 restore her. She died, as she had lived, miM,
21*


258 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZIXE.

lieautiful,and believing herself beloved, in my hand curved line connect these two dots by a
;

arms. She was a frail, loving child and I ; curved line, and then sketch in the masonry of
wept over her tomb. But, Rita, it is no wrong the archway, as in the example. All that now
to say that she never filled the deep places of remains for you to do is to fill in the shading,
my heart you know for whom they are now
;
which is done by marking short parallel strokes
opened. Little Rita, you were once my scholar, at equal distances from each other, as in the
be my teacher now, and learn me the lessons example before you.
of perfect happiness. My boy is motherless The next object that yon are required to copy
my home is desolate : come !" is a pyramid, and you observe that the first
He stood before her witli outstretched arms. Fig. 16.
And Rita went and nestled in their clasp,
murmuring, with crimson cheeks and dewy
eyes, "My dear master!"

PRACTICAL LESSONS IN DRAWING.

FOURTH LESSON.
Here is another example, composed of straight
and curved lines, but differently arranged. In
drawing this, commence by making ayam* hori-
zontal line upon the paper then place a dot ;

example is sketched only in outline, in order

that you may clearly understand how it is
done.
When you have drawn the outline correctly
several times,you may commence the nest
Fig. 17.

at a proper distance above, for the centre part

of the arch from this dot draw the right-hand
;

curved line until it meets the horizontal one,

then place another dot a little above the hori-
zontal line, at nearly the same distance as the
I
height of the arch from it, and draw two parallel
curved lines close together, from the top of the
first curved line to the dot you have just placed

on the paper. You have now formed the out-

line of the arch. Draw a horizontal line ffom
each side of the top of the arch, and at the
respective distances draw other lines parallel
to it ; then draw perpendicular lines between
the horizontal ones, and you willnow have example (Fig. 17), which, you observe, is care-
formed the masonry. Sketch in the lines of fully shaded by drawing fine perpendicular
the two banks, commencing with the left one, parallel lines between the transverse lines, and
and afterwards sketch in the stones on the all of them at equal distances. The shading at
right of the base of the arch. At rather more the base is drawn in a similar manner; the

than half the length of the left-hand curved only diilerence being that the lines are hori-
lines place a dot, and another at about two- zontal, instead of perpendicular.
thirds the distance from the base of the right- The next example is the outline of a pillar
 ;

ELLEN' JAYNESS RESOLUTION. 259

with a millstone resting against it (Fig. 18) :

aud nheu voii bave sketched this, it must be

ELLEN JAYNES'S RKPOLUTION A STORY
FOR WIVES.
Fig. 18.
" Why don't yon ever clean your boots before
you come into the house ?" said Ellen Jaynes
to her "I had just nicely arranged
husband.
the room, and settled down to my sewing as
you came in now there it is all to do over
;

again. Just look .it the dirt from one end of

the room to the other, and, I suppose, it is the
same thing in the hall. Dear ! dear I I am so
discouraged and tired out with brushing 1"
" And so am I discouraged and tired oat
with such a continual fret fretting every time
I come into the house. Don't you ever get
tired of scolding?" was the provoking response
of the gentleman.
"I do get tired of speaking to you about
filled in thesame as the other example (Fig. things which make me such a deal of trouble ;

19), which shows the same objects shaded,

and yet you never seem to mind them at all."
Fig. 19. " Speaking in the manner you do will not
bave that effect of that you may be assured."
;

"You are just so provoking as that; yon

never seem to care how much I go through !"
Here the tears began to flow.
" What a coufounded scene about a few
tracks on the carpet 1" ejaculated the incorri-
gible Mr. Jijynes, with vigorous emphasis.
" It 's not that alone. You know very well,
Charle.s, that wouldn't mind it for once bnt
I ;

it is so continually. You never seem to care how

hard you make my work. It is the same in
everything ; and, Charles, why won't you be
a little more particular ? Wliy need you make
so much work, when I am trying so hard to
keep things in good order ?' The shower was
according to the method we have already fast becoming a flood Mrs. Jaynes produced :

pointed out. The weeds and grass require a her handkerchief, and began afresh. "Oh,
few extra touches with an HB pencil, and the dear the tri.al of living with such a careless
I

outline should be strengthened in the dark person It would have been so much better
!

parts. for me if I had never met you I"

Practise these examples frequently, particu- But Charles had departed, shutting the door
larly the weeds at the top of the pillar, and the with a tremendous bang, leaving his better
shading. half to have her cry out by herself. And cry
When you are able to draw these examples she did for a time, with all her might, fully
as they are represented here, draw them back- convinced that she was the most mi.*erable,
wards ; in other words place the millstone on unlucky, and unappreciated of all housekeep-
the right instead of the left of the pillar. ers ; then she began to think what is the nse
Draw examples 17 and 19, and shade them of all this nobody cares about my tears I am
; ;

as if the light was on the left. only making myself sick for nothing. So she
bathed her eyes, brushed her carpet, and re-
sumed her sewing. But she was not in an
There
scarce can be named one quality that
amiable mood not by any means repentant
isamiable in a woman, which is not becoming nor forgiving, certainly not cheerful lam sorry
in a man, not excepting even modesty and to say, not even peaceful but very much in- ;

gentleness of nature. clined to let her grievances be made manifest.

260 GODEYS LADT S BOOK AND MAGAZINK,

Accordingly they were hardly seated at the Ellen Jaynes was a woman of good principles
dinner-table before she commenced. and good feelings, though she had an irritable,
"Did you see Parker about that wardrobe nervous temperament. In the good old times,
this morning, as I requested ?" such were called "cross ;" now, it is genteelly
" No, hadn't the time !" was the encouraging " nervous." Well, Ellen Jaynes was very ner-
response. vous she had also a great regard for trifles,
;

"Hadn't time You never have time to

I and very little power to adapt herself to cir-
attend to my wishes. You could have found cumstances. She had, too, a vivid imagination,
time you had chosen. If you cared a straw
if and having but limited opportunity for study-
for your wife, you would attend to her wishes a ing her husband's character before marriage,
little. Well, did you go to the stove store to she had invested him with all possible excel-
see about having that stove cleaned? It is lence thought she had found a man to rever-
;

almost impossible to bake in it, as I have often ence, lean upon, look up to in all things. Oi
told you." course she was bitterly disappointed.
"No; I did not." Charles Jaynes was a man of good natural
"For mercy's sake, Mr. Jaynes, when will abilities, and could render himself very enter-
you attend to it ?" taining and agreeable when he chose but he ;

" I can't say anything else wanted ?"

;
had few of those domestic qualities which make
" Yes. Did you call at Lovell's to see about up the model husband. He was not tidy in his
matching that oilcloth ?" habits, was often thoughtless and inconsiderate,
"No." and rather selfishly fond of his own ease. Such
" Yet I asked you to be sure and recollect it a character was the very antipodes of Ellen,
the last thing this morning. Was there ever who was possessed of much energy of charac-
such a careless man before ? I never saw any- ter, and very industrious withal. As I have
thing like it." said, she was bitterly disappointed; and, though

Mr. Jaynes continued his dinner in apparent she loved Charles, lamented her mistake in
unconcern, and his wife relapsed into silence. marrying him, with many secret tears. She
Just as he was leaving the dining-room, she would, probably, have been quite as miserable
started a new theme. with any other husband, unless she had go-
" Charles, Mrs. Dutton has been in this morn- verned her own temper; as it was she endeav-
ing. She says they are going to the White ored to perform the duties devolving upon her
Mountains nest week. Wliy cannot you take faithfully yet she was often troubled by the
;

me off for a journey

little ! I should like the delinquencies of her husband. They irritated
change ; I think it would do me good." her she would find fault and complain, which
;

"Take you a journey, after the complimen- did not improve matters. Such a course never
tary things you have said to me this morning I does. So the years rolled on, and things grew
I shall be very likely to do so. A pleasant worse and worse. The husband's love grew
trip I should have !" cold, and he becime more and more inattentive,
" That will do for an excuse you never do ;
while the cares of the wife kept increasing, and
take me anywhere. There 's the Duttons have in like ratio, her fretting and fault-finding. A
been away every summer and Mrs. Dutton says ;
deplorable state of things most assuredly yet ;

her husband would not think of keeping her at is it very uncommon f

home all summer. She was surprised when I After the conversation we have recorded,
told her that I had never been away from home Ellen had so far freed her mind that there came
a week at a time since I was married." a reaction, and we find her now in her own room,

" Very likely" in a tone of irony, and Mr. repentant and sorrowful.
Jaynes left the room. " I am
I was quite so cross.
sorry I said

Now Ellen Jaynes was not disappointed in some things wish I could take back but
I ;

the least at the result of her application. In Charles does try me so. He is not what I ex-
fact she did not expect her husband to grant pected but that can't be helped now he is
;.
;

her request, and it is doubtful whether she ray husband, and I might as well make the
would have gone had he given his consent, for best of it. I am so miserable, so unhappy, and

she well knew their means would not allow such it grows worse and worse What a! life we are
expensive indulgences, and Ellen was a pru- leading I It is all wrong wrong. We are to

dent, economical wife. But she wanted to live together till death ; it were wiser to make
show her hnsband what other men did for their the best of my lot. After all, things might

wives, and what he did not do. be worse. Charles is temperate, and honest.


ELLEX JAYXES S RESOLUTIOX. 261

and virtuous but who knows how long he

; muddied the carpet, turned the new wardrobe
will be, if we go on in this miserable fashion f inside out in search of some articles which
I will begin to reform ; God helping iiiv efforts, were never there, and forgot many errands,
I will subdue uiy unhappy temper. Fretting important though they were. liut she was
at Charles only makes him worse. I will try determined to be patient many a murmuring
:

what patience and cheerful endurance
complish." And so Ellen Jaynes formed her
first and good resolution, and what was
firm
better still, she began at once to fulfil it. Very
many good resolutions are made very few
are kept but this was kept.
;
At the tea-table Ellen made her appearance
becomingly dressed (she was a comely woman),
nud with a cheerful face but Mr. Jaynes's
brow was clouded, and he was not to be drawn
into conversation. It required quite an effort
to look and speak pleasantly in the morning,
will ac- word was denied utterance by firmly closed
lips. Many times did she pray for strength
and self-control ; but she achieved the greatest
of all victories she conquered herself.
At the end of the mouth, Mr. Jaynes said to
his wife: "Come, Ellen, pack your trunks,
and we will pay your father and mother that
long-talked of visit. I have made arrangements
; in my business so that we can have a nice long
v.acation, and we will throw care to the winds,
and have a famous time of it."
" Indeed, dear Charles, I should like to go ;

for the husband still remained moody and but, after all, we don't need to go from home
silent but she remembered her good resolu-
;
in search of happiness, do we ?"
tion, and she kept it. "Like the Buttons, for instance," s.aid her
In the forenoon he came into the sitting-room husband, with a mischievous smile.
of an errand, again with dirty boots but this ;
"Ay, the Duttons," with an answering smile.
time Ellen did not seem to notice them. "I "Nevertheless, we will have our journey,
declare I am hungry," said he, carelessly, though. You have been such a dear, darling
throwing himself into a chair in a lounging wife lately that my own home seems a para-
.attitude, which was tlie special detestation of dise !" And the husband's face was very near
Ills wife. hers as he finished speaking very near indeed.
"And wet, too, I perceive," said his wife,
kindly ; and, rising, she went quietly from the
room and returned, bearing a plate with a TWILIGHT MUSINGS.
tempting lunch in one hanil, and a brush in
the other. The former she placed in her hus-
BY ESTELLE BEATRICE.
band's hand with the latter she brushed the
;
Ix the purple sheen of the sunset's glow.
drops of rain from his neck and shoulders. When the rosy shadows now come, now qo.
" Why, Ellen, what does this all mean ?" And over the heavens in their beauty flow

.\nd Mr. Charles J.aynes looked up at his wife When the glowing west is all sown with fire.

My heart it is filled with a wild desire,

in unaffected astonishment.
In rev'rence to bow and to tune lay lyie ;

" I was afraid you would take cold," was the

Until with sweet accents, both flowing and free,
pleasant answer.
I sing of the beauty my ravished eyes see
He took the plate in one hand, while the other On the quiet land aud the rolling sea.
drew the face of his wife down to his for a
Broidered with silver and braided with gold,
warmer kiss than she had received for five The burnished clouds lie heaped fold on fold.
years. " This seems like the good old times, Till they melt away in the distance cold.

don't it, Ellen f" One little cloud, like an angel's sweet smile,
"wish they would come back again !" was
I Or like some mystic enchanted isle.
her answer, as she returned the kiss. Lies in an amber sea floating the while.
After he had gone, our heroine brushed up The dewdrops fall in soft, silent showers.

her carpet cheerfully ; somehow it did not seem Reviving the hearts of the drooping flowers.
much Like golden memories of happy hours.
of a task, although there were certainly
more spots than the day before, as it had been Violet, amethyst, purple and gold,

raining ever since. The door mat was not All blend their bright beauty, now faint, now bold.
As wider and wider each cloud is unrolled.
neglected again th.at day, and the wardrobe
came home in the afternoon, likewise the de- Adown the bills the white mist is trailing.

Through the blue sky the fair moon is sailing,

sired oilcloth.
Ellen kept her resolution,
sorely tempted
60 easily broken up, and Charles
Afar in the forest the night-bird is wailing
though many times
I clo^e my lattice with whispered prayer
for the habits of years are not That He who hath made this world so fair
many times May keep me always in Ills loving care.
 NOVELTIES FOR SEPTEMBER.
BONNETS, COIFFnRES, CAPS, CHEMISETTE, ETC.

Fig. 1. Fig. 2.

Fig. 3. Fig. 4.

Fig. 1. A white silk drawn bonnet, with |

velvet, green feathers, and blonde lace. Car-
sea-green velvet curtain, over which is a fall nation pinksof different shades form the inside
of blonde lace. The trimming consists of green |
trimming of the bonnet.
262
 NOrELTIES FOR SEPTEMBER. 263

Fig. 2. White chip bonnet, with a curtain cord and tussel is worn with them round the
of black velvet bonud ^itb scarlet,and beaded neck.
with a box-plaiting of scarlet. The loops of Fig. 7. Coiffure, made of black illusion,
velvet on the top of the bonnet are of a bright cherry velvet ribbon, and cherry flowers. Suit-
scarlet. The baud fastening under the loop is
fig, v.
of black velvet, and is carried down to form
the strings. The inside trimming is of scarlet
velvet and black lace.

Fig. 3. White silk bonnet, with a full cov-

ering of crape. The trimming consists of vio-
lets, blonde lace, and violet ribbons.
Fig. 4. White chip bonnet, trimmed with
violet velvet .ind black lace, and a f.incy straw
ornament. The inside trimming is of pink
roses and white blonde.

Fi|f. 5.

\ \
able for a young married lady for dinner of
evening dress.

Fig. 3.

I Fig. 5 is an infant's cap, made of embroidered

muslin, and trimmed with white ribbons.

Fig. 6.

Fig. 8. The waterfall style of coiffure.

Fig. 9. Child's white piqui sack, braided
with black.
Fig. 6. Chemisette with standing ruff a Fig. 10. Garibaldi suit, made of Magenta
favorite style for Zonave jackets. A small merino, trimmed with black velvet.
264 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

Fig. 9. Fig. 10.

BKAIDl.NC PATTERN.

PATCHWOKK.
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 265

cap cut nearly a half square, the longest side

PATTERNS FROM MADAME DEMOREST'S
set in with the seam inside the arm, and the
KSTABLISUMENT,
No. 473 Broadwai/, New York.
The Central Park Jacket. A very graceful
combination of the jacket and vest, tlie jacket
part consisting of a short polka, which rounds
up to the vest in front, deepens to a point be-
hind, and is laid in flat plaits at the back, snr-
monnted hy square pocket lappets. The sleeve

point reaches to the seam at the back of the

arm, where it is fastened by a bow.
Clotilde Sleeve. This is a plain flowing sleeve,
and is caught np at each side in plaits, about

half way from the seam to the outside or centre

of the sleeve. The plaits are fastened by or-

isa variation from the plain coat sleeve, formed

by the insertion of a full gore at the back. The
trimmings consist of a narrow quilling, headed
by a pretty border done in braid. The vest is
fastened down the front with flat steel, jet, or
gilt buttons, according to the material of which
the habit is composed. Gray, ci la militaire, is in

favor this season, or dark United Stales blue.

Undersleeve. A plain sleeve gathered into a

namental buttons, and the edge finished with

a handsome jet gimp. The band is attached
only at the seam, inside of the arm and at the
back of the sleeve. This exhibits the pufled
laced undersleeve to advantage.
Child's Combination Jacket and Cape. This
pretty little waist, a combination of cape and
jacket, will be very much worn this season, in

cuff, which is cut pointed, and the points

turned back, as in the Byron collar.
ErKpreti Sleeve.
This sleeve has two seams,
and the upper half is cut longer than the other, silk, dimity, or any pretty light material, in
and gathered about half the length of the place of the sack so long worn as an extra cover
sleeve. The centre of the upper half is caught for the neck, when low dresses are worn, or
np slightly with a band. There is also a side when additional warmth is needed.
VOL. LXTII. 22
266 godey's lady's book and magazine.

GLOVE TEIMMING.

Av ornampntation or' this description may be This wreath of bows should be made up on a
used to trim gloves either for morning or eve- piece of ribbon or stiff net be/ore it is mounted

ning wear, selecting the colors accordingly. It on the wristlet, as it can be so much more
certainly is more appropriate for an evening easily arranged when off the elastic. For dark
toilet, bnt where the glove is somewhat short gloves the net should be black, and the ribbon
ou the back of the hand, which is very fre- should match the color of the kid.
quently the case in dark gloves, a glove trim-
ming like this would not be at all objectionable.
It Is composed, for white and light-colored

gloves, of puffed tulle, mounted on a piece of

GENTLEMAN'S BRACES IN CROCHET SILK.
elastic large enough to fit the wrist comfort- ifaigrials. Black, red, and two shades of gray crochet
ably,and finished off in the centre with a thick Bilk ; 8ome fine white cord.

wreath of very tiny ribbon bows, with two ends The pattern is worked in double crochet

of wider ribbon to make a pretty finish to them. over fine oord. Each row is fastened off, and a
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 267

fresh one commenced at the other end. Foar buttonhole stitch, then work round the outer
shades of silk are required to make these edge of the diamonds with one rather loose
braces, but only one shade is worked at a time. buttonhole stitch and into it one tight then ;

The outer stripe is in red silk, the second in work round tlie inner edge of the top in the
black, the third in dark gray, and the fourth in same way, connecting the pattern wherever it

light gray. The twelve centre rows are in

scarlet, and the last four rows artf the same as
the first fonr,form a border on each side.
to
These braces, being sufficiently firm, as they
are worked on cord, would not require lining.

COLLAR IN WAVED-LACET BRAID.

Maierials. Waved lacet-braid ; cotton, No. 24 and 34.

Draw theepattem on paper and gum a piece

of muslin at the back, then sew the braid firmly
on the pattern ; work rosettes
in the diamonds,
of point d'Angleterre commence by working
;

one stitch in the diamond where the braid

crosses to secure it, cross to the opposite side,
then back again to the other side, twisting the
thread six or .seven times round the first
thread then run the needle along the back of
;

the braid, dividing the spaces into eight parts. comes close. When this is done, work bars of
When the last is worked, finish it in the centre, thick buttonhole to connect the wide spaces.
which will leave half a thread single ; work For the edge, work one rather loose button-
one stitch in the centre to secure
them, then hole stitch, and into it work four tight ones.
work round by passing the needle round one Repeat this all round the collar.
thread and under the second, then round the For two or more rows work the loose stitches
second and under the third repeat this till ; into the ones of the previous row, and the tight
you have gone round six or eight times, then ones as before.
twist the thread three times round the single Cut the stitches at the back, and remove the
thread, and fasten off. collar carefully from paper. Half the collar
Fill all the spaces at the edge with thick will make a cuff,
26s godet's lady's book and magazine.

divided, and two plaits of four made, then the

LITTLE BOY'S BELTS.
plait of eight resumed. The method of making
IN PLAITED WOESTED COKD. the buttonholes will be clearly seen by refer-
Fig. 1.
ring to the illustration, which shows the plait
entire and divided.
These belts may be recommended for
their solidity, the cheapness of their
material, and the small amount of trou-
ble occasioned in the working of them.
Made in bright scarlet cord, and worn
over Holland dresses or tunics, these
belts would be both pretty and suitable.

RUSTIC ORNAMENTS.
PICTUBE- FRAME OF OAK LEAVES AKD
AC0EN8.
EvEKT autumn we have delightful
summer-like days, when a ramble over
the hills or in the woods affords much
enjftyment to those who admire
the
beauties of nature, or can appreciate
fresh air and healthy exercise. An-
other inducement for young ladies to go on
these rural walks is that much can be found

that may be manufactured into ornaments for

our homes. Then make it the aim of these
pleasant, health-giving rambles to gather au-
tumn and mosses of all
leaves, acorns, cones,
varieties,and beautify your homes with orna-
ments which are none the less beautiful for being
your own handiwork.
When the leaves are falling from the trees
in the month of October, go into the woods
where there are large oaks, and among others
that are scattered around your feet, you will
see perfectly fair and smooth oak leaves, of a
pretty brown color, and of various forms and
sizes. While you are looking about for some
The belt Fig. 1 consists of a plait of twelve, of the best of these, you will find a variety of
plaited in double cord. It is fastened in front acorns also. Press the leaves, and dry the
with a buckle, to which the ends of the belt acorns, and you have materials for a picture-
should be firmly sewn. We give an illustra- frame. They should be fastened to the frame
tion of the belt complete, and also one showing with glue. If you make an oval frame, arrange
the arrangement of the plait nearly full size. them in form of a wreath. If. a square shape,
Each length of cord should be cut one yard have it smooth and stained before putting them
long. on.
The belt Fig. 2 is arranged with two ends, Commence by placing a small-sized leaf rather
ornamented with tassels, and has three button- more than a third of the length of the side
holes in the band to allow of its being let out from the corner, and with the stem toward the
or taken in, as may be required. It is fastened corner then two more on to and each side of
;

by means which can l>e put

of an oval button, that lay a small acorn on the first leaf, the
;

into either of the buttonholes. The plait is point toward the point of the leaf, and the stem
composed of eight pieces of double cord, each under the two others then two or three larger
;

one and a half yard long, and when that por- acorns, two or three more leaves, and so on.
tion of the belt is reached where it is necessary Put a group of the largest acorns at the corners,
to make the buttonholes, the plait should be and fill in around them with small-sized leaves.
 ;

WOBK DEPARTMENT. 269

The leaves shoald not be fastened on flat, bat rows, increasing one stitch at the beginning of
bent and raised alittle from the frame, and the the and second, the fifth and sixth rows,
first

whole arranged in a graceful manner. Varnish then knit and purl alternatelj eight rows
Tfith furniture varnish. without increase, and then begin to decrease
This makes a handsome frame, and is a good one at the beginning of each row, till only four
imitation of leather-work, requiring but little stitches remain cast them off.
;

time for its execution. The small petals are knitted as three in one.
Cast on six stitches.
Pnrl one row, make one stitch, knit two, re-
through the row. All the
CHILD'S BRAIDED BIB AND BAND. P*'"''
back rows are purled. Make one
stitch, knit three, repeat through
the row; continue thus to in-
crease at the beginning, and
knit one stitch more each row
between the increase, until you
have seven stitches knitted be-
tween each, then purl one row,
knit one plain row and purl an-
other, after which, knit eight
stitches, turn back and purl
them, knit four stitches, purl
them back. Break off your silk
about a yard from the work,
gather the four stitches together,
and fasten them ; thread a nee-
dle with the silk and take
left,

a stitch or two down the side

of your work, till you bring the
silk before the four remaining
stitches, knit these, and purl
them back ;
gather them to-
gether, and fasten as the last
bring the silk down to the next
stitch, knit eight stitches, and
proceed exactly as before with
them, as also with the next. Sew
The band and bib are cut out of one piece of s wire along the edge of the top with split wool
Marcella,and the baud buttons at the side. just as for the Fuchsia. Embroider some lit-
The bib portion may be lined and quilted if tle heart-shaped marks as in the natural flower,
liked ; it theu protects the fronts of the little place the three exterior petals over these, and
frocks more eflectually. The design may be cover the stem with green, making it much
reproduced either in white or scarlet braid, the thicker near the flower.
former being the most suitable color for babies' The buds must be made of silk or wool, as
wear. the flower. The smallest require eight or ten
stitches to be east on. Knit and purl a small
piece, sufficient to cover a little bud of cotton
KNITTED ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS.
wool, which must be fixed on a bit of wire, and
SNOW-DBOP. covered with the piece just knitted.
White silk half twist is the best materi.il for The largest buds will require a few stitches
this flower, but it can be done in white split to be increased, in order to make it wider at

Berlin wool. the top. The leaves are very simple, the shape
Six petals are required for each snow-drop : being much like blades of grass.
three small ones in the interior of the flower, Cast on four stitches, and knit and purl al-
and three larger over these. ternate rows, till done
a sufficient length is :

Cist on four stitches, knit and pnrl alter- gather the stitches at each extremity, and sew
nately six rows plain, knit and purl six more a fine wire neatly round.
22*
270 godey's lady's book and magazine.

PATTERNS FOR NETTING OR

CROCHET.
Figs. 3 and 4. Borders. These pat-
UJBBBULIUUU1 <l

DBaBDnaiBBa
oDaaaoBBBOD
tGGaaGaaauua
DDaBBnaaaaD
GaBaG::]DaBan
Qoaaauaaaaa
uauaaaaaaDn
GDaDaaaaDcn
nGDBGaaaGDG
GDBBBGBiaiJG
GBBauGaiaaG
DaaaaaBBBuG
DDDBBBnBGDa
UGUDBBBaDDD
DGOBGBflBGaD
OGBBBaBBBaa
BBBIHIflnHIBflGBBBOaaB
aGGaQDGDDDnaaaaDDBBagBBBDG
nDGBaaaiiDBanannBDa^BBBnBjjD
BDBBBapLIBBBDPGBBBDDa '

EBBBBlbBBBBBbBBBBBna .
aiBGBGBBBGBgaBBGBGBaBDBBB^n^
aaGbaBBBGD-BBa^DGBBBaDaaaan
BBBDBaaBBGBgaaB GBBaDGB
BBBBB^BiaBIGailBaD Bpcrjpa aj_ i.iB

terns will be found particularly useful,

as they are designed with angles. They
anauBaauuGBBBGCLji
DaaGBBBGauBBBnGI
DaaBIJBQaBBDBBBni
DaBDanaBBLanaBar
GBaaGBaauaoaiBo
rinaaai .arjaaananni
onnBaacjCBBiDciQi
anaoBBaaBDaaauDi
OBBaCBCBBaCBBBG
naauuuBBBDCci
BGaaaDBaaLBGB;
BGQBBailB^BBBLJai:]
anGizaaauLLBBBuu
nGBQBBBCaLIBBaa
nSSai^aLaBBLBBB
OnGBBBUCUBBL.
arjIBBOBBBLBLBBBai
BDEaaaaBCBBBLaGG
ancraBBDOCBBBLXlDI
BnnaOBBBDflrjBBBnGI
BQBBBGBUBBBrBBBGI
BaiBCDLBBBUDOBBGI
BGBBBriBBBGBCBBBni
BDCBBBUBCBBBCBCcnnnnnpnannnnGmGnci
BGGDBBB'JU_BBBLCLBBBLl"3LBBBnOGBBB:iaLte
BDLBrrBBB^B'-BaBCBaBBB'BBBBBZiBBBBBr'Bf
BGBBarB-iBBarBCBBananaaarianBBananaBi
BDBBrcCiiaBrcGaaamGBBBLicnBBa-pnBBBC
DBBBI-BBaLBi:BBBrB1BBBGBrjBBB-|B> IBBBGB
OCBBBnBLBBBCBCBBBnBDBBBnBDBaBUBnal
aaaaacBCi JDBC ._
BDaarrar- iDDQaaannni
BO iBGBBBnBTBBBniGBBBGa
BDGGBBBDDDBBBDCnBBBGDaBaaarilBBBGanl
QDi'GncGjn:]'jjLa3a:jCiiniLirniLCGiDnGGDc;

have the advantage of being adaptable

to any grounds with which it may be
desirable to combine them.

POINT LACE.
14.

13. Brussels Lace is a succession of

rows of Brussels edge, worked alter-
nately backwards and forwards.
14.Venetian Lace. Rows of Venetian EMBBOIDEBT.
edge, which should be worked all one
way from left to right.
15. Sorrento Lace, same as Sorrento
Edging,
forwards.
may be worked backwards and
%:A^^M^^M^
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 271

child's bbaided shoe.

BBAIDIXG PATTEEN.

EMBKOIDERT PATTERNS.

^^^^^^S^^&&&^^

^So^^^.o^oJ^r^o?
Or^X^Or XQ O)
QdQ Qo0


272 godey's lady's book axd magazine.

is always best whether it requires to boil a little

to try
longer, as underdone fish is unwholesome. Boiled fish
-tnipts, ^(, requires some kind of sauce. Try the following, viz. :

Parsley Sauce. Chop a handful of parsley and mix

MISCELLANEOUS COOKING. It in a stew pan with two ounces of butter, two ounces

Veal Cittlet3 and Bacon. Purchase a few trimmings of flour, pepper and salt; moisten with half a pint of

or cuttings of veal, or a small piece from the chump end water and a tablespoonful of vinegar. Stir the parsley
of the loin, which you cau cut up aud after iu thin slices, sauce on the fire till it boils, and then pour it over the
aud rolling them fish, drained free from water, on its dish.
seasoniug them with pepper and salt,

in flour, they are to be fiied iu the fat that remains from Sharp Sauce for Broiled Meats. Chop fine an onion
some slices of bacon which you shall have previously and a small quantity of mixed pickles put these into a ;

fried and, after placing the fried veal and bacon in its
; saucepan with half a gill of vinegar, a teaspoonful of
dish, shake a tablespoonful of flour in the fiying-pan; mustard, a small a large tablespoonful of
bit of butter,
add a few drops of ketchup or vinegar, and a gill of bread-crums, aud pepper aud salt to season boil all ;

water; stir all together on the fire to boil for five min- together on thefire for at least six minutes then add a ;

utes, and pour this sauce over the cutlets. A dish of water, and allow the sauce to boil again for ten
gill of

cutlets of any kind of meat may be prepared as above. minutes longer. This sauce will give an appetizing
Boiled SHorr.DKR op MrrroN with Onions. Put the fillip to the coarsest meats or fish when broiled or fried,

shoulder of mutton to boil in your two gallon pot, with and also when you are intending to make any cold
a handful of and plenty of water, allow it to boil
salt
meat into a hash or stew. In the latter case, the quan-
tity of water and cruma must be doubled.
gently for when done, and placed
about two hours, and
OD its dish, smother it over with the following sauce; To Stew Celery. Take off the outside, and remove
Chop six or eight large onions, and boil them with a the green ends from the celery stew in milk and water
;

pint of water for twenty minutes, by which time the until they are very tender. Put in a slice of lemon, a
water must be reduced to half a pint then add two ; little beaten mace, and thicken with a good lump of

ounces of butter, a pint of milk, four ounces of flour, butter and flour boil it a little, and then add the yelks
;

pepper, aud salt, and stir the sauce whilst boiling for oftwo well-beaten eggs mixed with a teacupful of good
ten minutes. A shoulder of mutton for boiling is all the cream. Shake the saucepan over the fire until the
better for its being salted for two or three days previous gravy thickens, but do not let it boil. Serve it hot.
to its being cooked. Potatoes. Many good cooks are bad managers of
Stewed Steaks. Fry the steaks brown over a very potatoes,and this esculent, which iu most houses is
brisk fire, withput allowing them to be hardly half served every day, and which is so popular in many
done, and place them in a saucepan with onions, carrots, families as to be often the only vegetable at table, requires
turnips, and celery, all cut in pieces about the size of a much care in the cooking. The great fault in couki]|g
pigeon's egg ; season with thyme, pepper, and and
salt, potatoes, whether they are steamed or boiled, is allow-
two ounces of flour ; moisten with a quart of water, and ing them, when they are cooked, to sodden in the moist-
Ftir the stew on the till it boils, and then set
fire it by ure still hanging about the vessel in which they have
the side of the on the hob, to simmer very gently for
fire been cooked, or in the steam which tbey give out. If
an hour and a half. It will then be ready for dinner. they are boiled, as soon as they are cooked enough they

Beefsteaks, Plain. When you happen to have a clear should be taken out of the saucepan (an iron put is best
for the purpose), which should be emptied aud wiped
fire, the steaks may be cooked on a gridiron over the
out dry ; the potatoes being then returned to it will dry
fire; the steaks must be turned on the gridiron every
two or three minutes. This precaution assisis very and become mealy. If they are steamed, take the
much meat more palatable and tender,
in rendering the
steamer off the kettle as soon as the potatoes are cooked
as it is by this frequent turning over of the meat while enough, and place it on a hot plate, in a side oven, or
broiling, that the juices are not allowed to run off in
anywhere else where they will keep very hot, and
waste, but are reabsorbed by the meat. When the
where they will dry. The grand items with potatoes
are, develop their mealiness by allowing the moisture
Fteaka are coi>ked, rub them over with a small bit of
A little chopped to evaporate, serve them very hot, and serve but a few
I'utter, season with pepper and salt.
at a time, so that relays of hot dishes of them may be
tbalot, sprinkled over steaks, imparts an extra relish.
ready to go in with every fresh course with which they
Vegetable Phrridob. Scrape and peel the following are at all likely to be required.
Vegetables: Six carrots, six turnips, six onions, three
beads of celery, and three parsnips slice up all these ;

very thinly, and put them into a two gallon pot, with SOUPS.
four ounces of butter, a handful of parsley, and a good Lettuce Sotrp. Cut up the white parts of two or four
tprig of thyme, and fill up with water, or pot liquor if lettuces as needed, a quart of stock, free from fat, and
you happen to have any season with pepper and salt,
;
boiling ; throw the lettuces and a small onion,
into this
a-id put the whole to boil very gently on the fire for two chopped very fine, and a teaspoonful of salt let it boll :

hours at the end of this time the vegetables will be

; twenty minutes; thicken with two tablespoonfuls of
done to a pulp, and the whole must be rubbed through flour, first rubbed smoothly in cold water, aud a little

a colander with a wood-'U spoon, and afterwards put soup added to it, then strained before putting it to the
back into the pot and stirred over the fire, to make it hot soup, then throw in a small bit of butter not larger than
fnr dinner. a walnut let the whole boil up once, and serve.
;

To Boil Fish.Put the fi-ih on in water to

sufficient Ripe Soup. Wash two tablespoonfuls of rice in warm
cover it, add a small handful of salt, and, providing that watery take a quart of boiling stock, throw the rice into
the fish is not larger than mackerel, soles, or whiting, it this, with a little salt and four allspice corns, and sim-
\rtll be cooked by the time that the water boils. Yet it mer half an hour.
 ;

RECEIPTS. 273

8oup FOR Invalids Two pounds of beof from tho shin time. In another jug drop the flavoring ; now strain
cnt tnto very Htaall pieces, aud withont a particle of fat^ the milk and eggs back into the saucepan ; let it slowly
aD(t the half ofaa old fowl, two Urge carrots, aad four thicken over the fire, stirring the whole time; the
white portions of leeks, a bttoch of winter savory, and instant it thickens sufficiently, lift it off the fire, for here
a tittle salt to these Ingredients put two quarts of
; the danger of curdling begins and should such arise, it
;

cold water, and let It simmer four hours; then etraln
U, and when cold take off the fat. Warm It for servinjf,
by putting the soup in a cnp with a cover, and standing
it In a rtaucepau of boiling water sufficient to reach
nearly the edge of the cup.
can be remedied by instantly pouring it through the fine
tin strainer into the jug with the flavoring, and then in-
stantly through the strainer again into another jng, thus
pouring it from jug to jug till the custard is cold. This
process must be observed in every case, only that if not

Oxio.vSorP.Peeland wash a pint of very small silver curdled, it need not be poured through the strainer after

onioDB take a quart of mitk aud a pint of strong beef

;
the first time of pouring uff after it is boiled. Now ponr
stock let both boil, then throw in a teaspoonfnl of salt the custard aroand the apple cake not on it.
;

and the onions the soup must not be allowed to stop

; Shall Tea Cake.
boiling, and must be kept very fast boiling. In a quar-
ter of an hoar the onions will be done. Take two table-
spoonfuls of arrowroot, mix smoothly with a little cold
water, then add some of the boiling soup, stirring the
arrowroot all the time, then throw the latter into the
remainder of the soup, and serve with small sqaareB or
dice of toasted bread.
This soup is mild and exceedingly restorative.
TosuTO SoDP.
Cook eight or ten tomatoes in boiUni^
water with a little salt peel, mash, and strain them,
;
add a little pepper, butter, and a little flour; mince a
few shreds of shallot very fine, throw this with the to-
matoes into a quart of boiling stock let it boll tea ;
Seven ounces of flour, foar and a
half ounces of butter, three ounces of white sifted sugar,
the peel of one lemon, the yelks of three eggs, worked
well together, rolled iuto small rolls, and pressed on
one side with a knife, and then baked.
Plain Pousd Cake. Stir one pound of melted butter
and one pound of sugar well together till it is quite
light and white; then add ten eggs, one pound and a
quarter of flour, a haudful of currants, and the same of
raisins, a little citron and orange-peel. Buke in a tin
form lined with paper, and bake for two hours.
An Apple Island. Make some good apple-sanee,
which has been flavored with lemon and clove; beat it
up very fine with loaf-sugar enough to taste sweet add ;

minutes, and serve without straining. two glasses of sherry; then beat the whites of four
eggs separately till they are of a light froth ^traiu them ;

CAKES, PUDDINGS, ETC. into a large basin; beat them up again; now add two

Spokqe-Cakb. Take six eggs and divide the yelks tablespooufuls of cream, or a little milk, and a quarter
from the whites, and beat each separately for three- of an ounce of isinglass dissolved in a little water, and

quarters of an hour; grate the yellow rind off a lemon, add to the milk and egg froth; beat it well up; take
and mix well with ten ounces of sifted loaf-sugar. Now off the froth with a spoon, and lay it on an inverted

add this to the yelks of the eggs, and mix well together sieve over a dish ; when sufficient froth is made, beat the

then add the whites, and mix theu dust in six ounces
;
remainder up with the apples the whole is very till

of flour which has been well dried before the fire. Now light and frothy place the apples piled high in a glass
;

only j ust mix all together withont beating, as, if beaten, dii<h pour some cold custard roiuid out on it; theu
;

it makes the cake heavy. Bake in a well-buttered tin take off the froth, and put on the top of the apples.
and quick oven for an hour, but put it in the oven the
Madeira Cream. Take seven or more sponge-cakes,
instant made; and, when baked, turn it npside
It is splitthem in halves, line a glass dish with the pieces ;

down, half in and half out of Ibe tin (or it will be mix together two wineglassfals of Madeira wine or
heavy), and let it stand an hour in a warm place. sherry, and one wineglassful of brandy with a teaspoon ;

Apple Cake, with custard sufficient to fill twelve cus- pour a little of this mixture over the layer of pieces oa ;

tard-glasses, or a
good sized dish. Piire, slice, and core this again put a layer of raspberry jelly, which cau

a sufficient number of apples which, when prepared, readily be made by patting a pot of raspberry jam in the
shall weigh three pounds; add to these a pint of cold oven ; in a few minutes it will be warm, when the liquid,

water, and boil till to a pulp then take three-quarters

;
which is the jelly, can be strained from it, and poured
of a pound of loaf-sugar, well crushed, all but eight over the pieces. T^ow put the other layer of pieces, softk
lumps on these lumps rub off the yellow rind of a
;
thiswith wine as before, but omit the raspberry. Make
lemon. Now these lumps may be broken strain the ;
a custard as directed for boiled custard ; when cold, and
juice of the lemon, add to the sugar, and throw all into just as the dish is going to table, pour the cold coetard
the apple pulp, and boil all together on a tolerably over, and sprinkle some ratafias on the top.
quick fire for an hoar, stirring it all the time. With the
purest salad oil, oil a moald before a Are thotoaghly ;
MISCELLANEOUS.
then tarn the apple into a mould, and, when cold, turn To Clean and Polish Tables. Wash the dirt and
it from thence into a glass dish. stains from the mahogany with vinegar. Then use the
Fob the Ccstaud, which will fill a large dish, or fill following furniture oil: Let one ounce ot alkanet root
twelve custard-glasses. Four eggs, whites and yelks; and one ounce of rosepink be well pounded together,
an onnce and a half of loaf-sugar a pint and a half of
; and mixed with one quart of cold-drawn Unseed oil.
milk a small stick of cinnamon, and a quarter of the
;
Rub on the oil, wipe it off immediately with a fine linen
very thin yellow rind of a lemon, and six drops of cloth, and polish the t;ble, or whatever it may be.
almond flavoring. Put \a a saucepan a pint of the milk, When the tables are in good order, the oil need not be
the cinnamon, lemon-peel, and sugar let it boil till of a;
used often.
good flavor. Break the eggs into a j ag, add the remain- To PaegERVB Flowers in Water. Mix a little carbo-
der of the milk, aad beat well to a froth take the hot ; nate of soda in the water, and it will keep the dowers &
milk aud ponr to the eggs, beating the latter all the fortnight.
274 GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK AKD MAGAZINE.

Two Ways op WAsniNn Black Lace. Carefully twenty-five drops of English oil of lavender, one drachm
sponge the lace with gin, or, if prefen-pd, 'with green each of essence of bergamot aud essence of lemon, and
tea, and wind it round and round a bottle to dry, as if ten drops each of the oil of cassia and otto of roses.
touched with an iron It would become glossy and have
a flattened appearance. Some persons fill the bottle CONTRIBUTED RECEIPTS.
with warm water, which causes the lace to dry more
In answer to a request, a correspondent has kindly
quickly. must on no account be placed near the fire,
It
sent us the following receipt for "Old-fashioned Wed-
as it would lose its color, and have a rusty appear-
ding-Cake, raised with yeast."
ance.
Take two pounds of best wheat flour, and make dough
Or : Scald some bran with boiling- water, and dip the as for bread or biscuit, with rich milk, and yeast sulfi-
lace up and down in the bra.a and water when warm,
cient to raise it. Ifit is made like biscuit, there will be
and when clean, squeeze the water out, and shake the
a little shortening ; if like bread, it will be without. It
bran off. Lay it out, and pull out the edges, etc. Iron
is of little consequence. Whilst the dough is rising,
it between linen on a blauket, so that the iron does not
prepare a pound and a half of currants, nicely washed
glaze it. Or if lace is dipped in cold milk, and ironed in
and dried, also a pound and a half of raisins, the seeds
the same way, it will be found to cleau it equally as
well.
tu be taken out. Two pounds of best sugar, pulverized
and sifted, and one and a half of butter that is nut too
To Restore a Critmpled Black Silk Brrss. Sponge salt The butter and sugar should be rubbed or worked
the silk wiih spirits of wine, diluted with a little water. together when the dough is very light the butter and ;

Then iron it on the wrong

keeping a piece of mus-
side,
sugar should be mixed with the dough, aud also the
lin between the surface of the silk and the hot iron.
yelks of twelve eggs well beaten. This now should be
This will succeed perfectly with a black silk.
worked together, with one or both hands, from throe to
Color for Wicker Baskets, or ant Small Articles six hours the longer the better. This should now be
OP THE Kind. Dissolve one stick of black sealing-wax setaway to rise again, generally through the night;
and one stick of red in two ounces of spirits of wine. when it is again very light, you add spices to your
Lay it on with a small brush. taste. The old spices were cinnamon, nutmeg, and
Staining Wood. To stain wood to imitate dark ma- mace, freely ; and cloves aud allspice, sparingly. Some-
hogany, make a decoction with a quarter of a pound of times rose-water, orange-water, orgrated orange-peel, or
madder, one ounce of logwood, aud two quarts of water. fresh orango-peel chopped very fine, or a preparation of
Wash the wood over with the decoction several times, peach-stones, in any way. A few pits of meat of peach-
allowing dry thoroughly each time. Then slightly
it to stones,pounded and sifted, are an improvement, if very
brush it over with water, in which pearlash is dissolved, nicely put in, and in very small quantity; but, as too
in the proportion of a quarter of an ounce to a quart. much is very objectionable, it liad better be left out
For the color ot light mahogany, make the decoction in altogether, except in very skilful hands. Tiiese spices

the same manner, but using, instead of the logwood, two are now to be added, and one gill of best French brandy,
ounces of fustic, or half an ounce of yellow berries, aud or a glass of brandy, and a glass and a half of wine. This
brush on the liquid while boiling hot. The tint may now goes through another process of working, as long
be varied by varying the proportion of these iogredi- as before as long as you have time or strength. Dur-
ents. For wood which is already rather brown a good ing this working process, you will add the whites of the
staining liquid maybe made with dragon's blood and twelve eggs, beaten as light as it is possible to make
turmeric in spirits of wine. them. Work these a long time, and before you have
done working, put in a teaspoonful of saleratus, dis-
To Imitate Ground Glass. If one ounce of powdered solved in vinegar work it in rapidly ; whilst it is effer-
gnm tragacanth, in the white of six eggs, well beaten,
vescing, and beat it all thoroughly together. Now, if It
be applied to a window, it will prevent the rays of the
is very light, put the dough into pans, which should be
8un from penetrating,
lint and nicely buttered, aud set them where they will
Apple Wine. Pure cider made from sound, dry ap- rise again. Your fruit should in the mean time have
ples, as it runs from the press. Put sixty pounds of been prepared: the citron, by cutting in small pieces;
common brown sugar into fifteen gallons of the cider, the raisins and currants should have been swelled in a
and let it dissolve, then put the mixturo into a clean small quantity of warm or hot milk, and dried on a
barrel, and fill up to within two gallons of
the barrel sieve. When your oven is ready, and the cake ready to
being full with cleau cider put the cask in a cool place,
;
go into it, put the fruit on the top of each cake (it is
leaving the bung out forty-eight hours, then put in the and cunants before), and if
better to mix the raisins
bung with a small vent uutil fermentation wholly they do not sink, press them gently with a spoon just
ceases, and bung up tight, and in one year the wine will
below the surface, and put them immediately into the
be fit for use. This wine requires no racking; the oven. I will not add to the length of this by giving
longer it stands upon the lees the better. should be glad
directions about baking, but I at this
Crystalline Pomade. Mix four ounces of oil of point to put hands of my old servant, who
it into the
almonds, four ounces of best olive oil, one ounce of sper- will make a good thing of anything she bakes for it is ;

maceti, two ounces of castor oil. Melt these in a cov- not too late now to spoil it by baking it badly but I ;

ered jar by the side of the fire theustir in seventy drops

; have learned by experience that, if a woman does not
of the following perfume, which should have been pre- know how to bake, it is of little use to give her in.'^truc-

viou-^ly kept in a stopped phial. Then pour it into your tions. I will, therefore, close, after I hjive added that
cream jars, cover, and let it stand till cold. A cheaper this is a richer cake than is often made in this way,
perfume than the following, such as bergamot or al- and that one-half or three-quarters the quantity men-
mond flavor, which some people like, may well be used ;
tioned here, to the full amount of flour, viz., two pounds
but the subjoined is the best : Mix together, and shake makes an excellent cake, and is far less injurious to
well in a stopped phial, eight drops of oil of cloves. digestion.
 fVitflrs* Saih*
Tet Jehovah, by His special and moral providence*,*
nr HER MARKIA'Se kf:i.atio5.
could help the woman against her natural enemies-
Satan and wicked men. This God has done from the
For the woman Is the glory of the man. 1 Cor. xi. 7.
day He made the promises of salvation snre to h^r in her
" the Fall broni:ht mankind into an estate of sin glorious Seed. In the fulfilment of these promises the
That
and misery'' is a true and graphic stating of the catas- Bible a record of God's tender care over
is woman, par-
ticularly in her marriage relation.
trophe.
What myriad forms of wickedness and wretchedness The Eden law of union on^ rnnn with one woman^
have, for nearly six thousand years of development. was not only made sacred by Divine institution, bat U
worked only to mar the beaniy and perfectnesa and de- was inwoven into the natural laws of humanity, so
stroy the goodness and happiness of humanity! Have that the proportion of the sexes to each other should be

not the greater portion of these sins and woes, fertilizing equal through all time. Polygamy and its kindred
earth with human blood, and darkening heaven with iniquities was and is the sin which most completely
making life in this world so miserablo
idol worship, thus
mars the image oi God in man's soul, inclining him to
and so sorrowful, been the result of the fatal blight idolatry, and every "corrupt imagination" and evil
which disobedience to God's law brought on the mar- work ; it destroys more .surely than any other
because

riage relation of the sexes?

sin the moral power and infiuences of woman. Here
Consider how great was the change! The husband the whole scope, and strength, and subtlety of Satan's

and wife, Judged separately and coudemoed by Divine temptations on the sensuous nature of men, have been
mercy as well as Justice, to different forms of suffering put forth, and God's help to the woman only could
as pnuishment for individual sin, could no longer be otu have saved the race from atter corruption and total
in the sense of mutual love and trust in God, and con- extinction.

Eciousuess of perfect love and confidence towards each We have seen how the Almighty helped the weakness
other. This Eden unity was not possible when tho of the first woman against her natural enemies Satan
wife was placed under the rule of her husband.
and his seed by giviog to her keeping the immortal
Had Eve been created iii/^rim- to Adam in mind, heart, destiny of her husband and sons in the Aope o/ the Bt-

and soul, where would have been her punishment? deemer.

She would naturally and inevitably have fallen into Woman was again helped when tbe Flood swept
this inferior condition. Bat if her nature was more re- away the ungodly from earth, and thus restored the
fiaed than his, more spiritual a nearer assimilation sanctity of true marriage ;no polygamist was permitted
with the augelic, then to become subjected to the coarser, to pollute the Ark. Also the special providence that
earlhlier, more seusuons nature of man, would be a sad shortened man's life most wonderfully increased her
and humiliatlug lot. Much did she need the gracious moral intiuence in the family. Allow ten years as the
promise of God that her Seed should at last triumph period of childhood, when the mother's authority over
over the tempter who had wrought her woe and that, ;
her sons predominates; then compare the length of
although she mn^t bear oppression and endure sorrow, Tloah's life with that of Moses, and it will be clear that

yet she should not fall into the utter depths of sin ;
woman's power was greatly augmented when man's
there should be "enmity*' between her nature and the lifewas shortened from 9.X) years to 120 years.
Spirit of Evil. When tbe Hebrew race was chosen to perpetuate a
Moreover, that the woman did at the creation hold the nation whence them/>?Vr oftfu Messiah was to have her
sovereignty of earth in equal trust with the man is as origin, what sppcial manifestations of God's giace wj

surety true as that, after the Fall, her husband was per- see in the protection of women from the selfishness and

mitted to "rule over" her. God gave them joint do- the lusts of men Thus Sarah was saved from the Egyp-
1

minion (see Gtn. chap. i. 2S) but Eve sought to be

;
tian king, and Rebekah was kept from Abimelech Leah, ;

wise above her human condition. By this door sin bad the hated but still the lawful wife of Jacob, was the
mother of Judah, from whom " Shiloh" came.
entered Eden. The effect of sin was to separate the
creature from the Creator. The earthly triumphed over The God had also kept tbe idola-
special providence of

the heavenly the sensual over the moral. Man, with

;
the strong arm, and stern will, and fierce passions,
would, of necessity, bear rule; and that woman, with
the promise of redemption *' hid in her heart,'* was sub-
trous Egyptian nation clear from polygamy the only
instance on record of the descendants of Ham living
under the true law of marriage. Was it not wonderful
that the sojournings of Jacob's posterity four hundred

jected to him, could not separate her happiness from
bis, but must, in humility and self-sacrifice, work one
the moral sense of her sex through the physical strength
of his, was tbe only way ofimprovement and salvation
for the race. Even tbe Lord God, reverently speaking,
could not have ordered the destiny of the woman other-
wise, without destroying or circumscribing man's free-
years in the land ofHam should thus be safe from those
evilexamples and polluting sins which made the nations
around Canaan and throughout all the East, then &a
now, seem fitted only for destruction?
* We
term it a mnrnl prnrnd^nee where Divine inter-
position has evidently been exerted to advance the
mo-nl condition of an individual or a people giving the ;

succession to Jacob; -saving and training Moses, and

dom of will, which doctrine lies at the foundation of preserving tbe Jews under Ahasuerus weae each and aU
humanity, "made In the image of God." moral providences.
275

276 godey's lady's book and magazine.
And when the Decalopue was thundered from Mount
Sinai,how the hearts of the women must have swelled
with thankfulness to God who compelled men to obey
His moral law as strictly as they enjoined its rules on
the women
!
The special laws of Moses are full of tender touches
thatshow our heavenly Fathei's love and care for his
dependent daughters some of these will be noted in our
;
last paper. Yet we will add here that from Moses to
Malachi the Old Testament laws and precepts sustained
the Eden marriage relation as God's holy ordinauce,
and secured to the women of God's chosen race, compared
with the women of all heathen and Gentile nations, in-
estimable privileges and blessings.
And when, at the close of four thousand years, the
moral sense or instinct of woman was nearly darkened,
God sent forth His "true light," constrained men to
and thus saved the race. The blessed Saviour reaffirmed
the marriage law of Eden in a manner which shows it
had never been set aside, that it could not be abrogated
without destruction to all Bocial, moral, aud religious
Improvement.
The Apostles taught the same precepts of fidelity and
purity in the family relation, and St. Paul, in his Epistle
from which we have quoted, illustrates the strength
and beauty of Christian piety in the sexes by declaring
that man is the image and glory of God : but the woman
is the glory of the man.
Let us reverently examine the meaning of this won-
derful and divine declaration.
An image is something visible the glory of God,
; when
which men see, is in the things He has created and in
the laws by which these are governed- consequently to
ti'ente or make and to govern by right laws is to show
forth or be the "glory of God."
Man is the maker or creator on earth : he has the con-
Rtructive genius and the originating understanding
which, combined with his physical strength aud power
of will, was to subdue the earth and make laws for its
government. Trne, he cannot absolutely make or create
a single particle of matter; but he can, by new Combi-
nations, create innumerable differences in the particles
of matter, and make, apparently, new elements aud new
things. Man, therefore, represents on earth the Creator's
glory.
But to create or make out of God's work new things is
not man's greatest glory to reach the highest elevation,
; testant denominations, except the Christian Sabbath, all
he must worship God in spirit and in truth.
Woman cannot create or make like man. She has not
his constructive genius, and there seems an organic
difference in the operations of their minds. That she
reasons Intuitively or by inspiration, while he must plod
through a regular sequence of logical arguments is ad-
mitted by all writers on mental philosophy. There is
another diffeience however, which lias not been noted.
Woman never applies her intuitive reasoning to mechan-
ical pursuits. It is the world of human life, not of in-
animate things that she would move. Heuce she works
on mind, and for immortality; worshipping God in
spirit and in truth and thus showing forth the beauty
;
of moral goodness, she becomes the "glory of the man."
Hence it is sure that those who are seeking to elevate
woman through industrial pursuits and competition
with men in the arts will never succeed. The wife can-
not work with mat'^rials of earth, build up cities, mould
marble forms, or discover new mechanical inventions to
aid physical improvement. She has a holier vocation.
She works in the elements of human nature her orders
:
of architecture are formed in the soul obedience, tem-
perance, truth, love, piety, these she must build up in
the characters of her children. Often, too, she is called
to repair the ravages and beautify the waste places
which sin, care, wnd the desolating storms of life have
made in the mind and heart of the husband she reve-
rences, loves, and obeys. This task she should perform
faithfully, but with horaility remembering that it was
:
fnr woman's sake Eden was forfeited, because Adam
L'ved his wife better than his Creator and that man's
;
nature has to conte-^d with a degree of depravity, into
which the woman, through the grace of God, has never
descended.
Yes, the wife should be humble. She is dependent on
her husband for the position she holds in tociety she ;
must rely on him for protection aod support. She should
look up to him with reverence as " the Saviour of the
body,'' and be obedient. Does any wife say that her
husband is not worthy of this reverence? Then render
it to the office with which God has invested him as head
of the family but use your privilege of motherhood to
;
train your sous so that each one may be worthy of love,
reverence, and obedience from his own wile. Thus
through your sufferings the world may be made better.
Every faithful performance of private duty adds to the
stock of public virtues.
And man should he not bear himself humbly, from
the remembrance that to woman's loving care he is
indebted for preservation during helpless infancy that ;
his mind took its impress from her daily teachings ;
from her example he derives Riith in those affections and
virtues which are the life of the soul that *' God has
;
chosen the weak things of this world to confound the
things which aie mighty," and given to woman the
moral sceptre under which every man must pass before
see,
he can be prepared to enter heaven.
Humility is a Christian virtue equally neededdby both
sexes. Each sex having different endowment^ to which
the other must give honor, all cause for boasting is re-
moved from both: each should seek to promote the
other's happiness and glory, then the true happiness
and glory of both would be won.
OUR NATIONAL THANKSGIVING.
Then he said unto them. Go your way, eat the fat, and
drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom
nothing is prepared for this day is holy unto our Lord ;
;
neither be ye sorry; for the joy of the Lord is your
strength. Neheinialt viii. 10.
Thus commanded the inspired leader of the Jews,
they kept the "Feast of Weeks;" in a time of
national darkness and sore troubles shall we not recog-
nize that the goodness of God never faileth, and that
to our Father in heaven we should always bring the
Thanksgiving offering at the ingathering of the harvest?
Wise lawgivers and great patriots haveacknowledged
the salutary effect of appointed times for national re-
unions which combine religious seutiment with domes-
tic and social enjoyment thus feelings of benevolence
;
are awakened, and gratitude to the Giver of all our
blessings is seen to be the great duty of life. Owing to
the different economy of different churches, among Pro-
our religious commemorations are partial and local.
Can we not, then, following the appointment of Jeho-
vah in the "Feast of Weeks," or Harvest Festival, estab-
lish our yearly Thanksgiving as a permane7tt American
Notional Festival, which shall be celebraied on t/te last
Tlmrsday in Ntyvember in every State of otcr Union/
Indeed it has been nearly accomplished. For the last
twelve or fourteen years, the States have made ap-
proaches to this unity. In 1S59 thirty States and three
Territories held the Thanksgiving Festival on the same
day the last Thursday in November. It was also cele-
brated that year and the following on board several of
the American fleets ships in the Indian Ocean, theMt-di-
terranean, and on the Brazil station: by the Americans
in Berlin at our Prussian Embassy; in Paris and in
Switzerland ; and American missionaries have signified
their readiness to unite in this Festival if it should be
efitablished on a particular day which can be known as
the American Tlmnksgimng.
Then, in every quarter of the globe our nationality
would be recognized in connection with our gratitude
to the Divine giver of all our blessings. The pious aud
loving thought that every American was joining in
heart with the beloved family at home and with the
church, to which he belonged, would thrill his soul with


HEALTH DEPARTMENT. 277

the purest feolingfl of patrtotiBtn and the deepest emotions ago) applied for pensions at the War Office In Washing-
of tliaQkfuluoH)! for hi religious eajoyracols. ton. What sorrows and sufferings are here recorded!
Would u not bo o( great advaDiag4>, socially, nation- The greater portion of tlioso women are made widows in
ally, religiously, to have the day of our American their youth. God only can know the grief of those Ufe-
Tbaaksgiving positively Kottled ? Putting' ntnide the sec- monruers.
ttoual feelings and local incideuts th:tt lui^ht be urged
by any siugle Stale or isolated Territory that desired to
Whitestown Seminary. We have before ns the Cata-
choose Us own
would it not be more uuble. more
time,
logue of this remarkably flourishing institution, now
truly American, to become nrdioJuUiy in unUy when we
numbering over /<ttir hundred students of both sexes.
ofl'ur to God our tribute of joy and gratitude for the
The success of this plan of education deserves particular
blessings of the year ?
notice, which we hope to give before this year closes.
Takiug ttiis view of the case, would it not be better
that the proclamation which appoints Thursday the
Errata. In the last number, p. 1S6, second column,
2oth of Xovembor day of Thanksgiving for
(lS(:i) as the
first article, for "Men'*
third line from the close of the
the people of the United States of America f-hould, in the
read "Me."
flr^t instance, ouiatiato from the President uf the Repub-

lic to be applied by the Governors of each and every

To orR CoRRRSE'o.N'PE.XTS, The following articles are
Siatd^n aoquioscence with the chief executive adviser 7 accepted: "Lost and Won" " Forsaken" "Sabbath
Morn" "The Vesper" aud "Sibyl."
STANZAS. These articles are declined, for want of room in some
instances, in others for want of finish. Many articles

Oh ! let mo rest in a shaded nook, are marred by the haste or carelessness of the writers.
With the greeu boughs aichiug o'er me, As we can only accept a very limited number, those who
And losing my sense in some "witching book.
Forget the sad
life before me. faTor us with their productions should make the.se per-
And the hum of the drowsy droning bee fect as possible: "Linden Hall" (when we need proife
Shall teach me to idle the hours ;
the writer will hear from ns) " I want to go Home'*
And the perfume that conies o'er the scented lea
Shall be sweeter than jasmine bowers. (we are sorry to decline this, but it is a memento for the
And the gentle sigh of the low west wind home circle, not for the world) " A Keminiscence"
Shall plead like an earnest lover.
Till the charm of the book is gone from ray mind-
"Woman" "My Own" "A Hard Case" "The Last
As I carelessly fold its cover, and the Beat" "Critics and their Mistakes"" In the
And dream of a voice that is .iweeter far
Vapors" (the writer can do better we are not now " iu
Than the tnue of that zephyr lowly
Ah! 1 worship '"a briglii particular star,'* need") "Example better than Precept" " Sonnet"
And the beaming is pure and holy. "The Gatheriug Storm" "A Plea" aud "War."
But alas for love, aud alas for me,
! !
We have other MSS. on hand to be noticed next month.
The disk nf my life is clouded ;
And 'neath the boughs of the drooping tree, The author of " My Friend," etc., can have manuscript
I know that my grief is shrouded. by sending to Mr. Godey, 32:5 Chestnut Street.
And I weep my tears like the tailing rain, Miss K. E. Story respectfully declined.
And I give all my fruitless sighing
To the low west wind that taught me to plain-
Will it tell Him I m slowly dying?
'The Prs is Hiohtibr tha;? the Swobd." Among
peallj) Jcprtnunt.
the absolute necessaries of life we must reckon the pen. BT JNO. STAIXBACK WILSON, M.D.
There is no interest in oar business, no article of wrvice
or of ornament in our hands that we might not dispense
vith more easily than with the pen. In this little helper CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AMFRICAS PEOPLE.
lire hold the power of consolation to the afflicted, and of It has been truly said of the Americans that they are
couversation with theabsent it is the regulator of daily
;
a " fast people." They come into the world in a hurry,
routine, the interpreter of domestic affections, and the pas through in a hurry, and die in a hurry.
souther of individual cares and heart-sorrowe. It is the How shall the tide of d^ath be checked ? How shall
supporter of law, the conuaellor of duty, the expounder the stamina and vital resistance of our population be
of the world's doings in its record of daily new^ ; essen- increased? This, we repeat, is to bedone by the diffu-
tial to the heart of tlie lover and the hand of the warrior, sion of sound hygienic knowledge among ths people.
to the ol&cer of justice and the teacher of Divine Truth. An<l women must be the principal agents in this great
Tiie pen is an institution. Therefore a good pen ie of health reform. They must correct their own bad habits
inestimable importance to all who write. of living the work rau^t begin at home the fountaiu ;

After nearly two years' experience of their merits we must be purified before the streams of health can flow
can conscientiously commend the gold pens of Mr. A. out for the healing of the nations. Then may womau
Mjrton, 2o Maiden Lane, New York, as the best and go forth as a missionary and preacher of health. Then
most perfect writing instrument we ever used. with the personal charms with which nature has so
richly endowed her, and with these charms all glowing
*'

Faith." This new and beautiful engraTing of Pal- in the radiant beauty of blooming health, she will be
mer's celebrated statue has been lately published in Bos- able to present in herself an argument so conclusive o(
ton,by the well-known firm of J. E. Tilton & Co, We the benefits of obedience to physiological law.'?, that her
do not know a more charming picture for ihe family precepts will be irresistible. Then, with the aid of the
room than this perfect work. press, by daily social intercoarse, by visiting the poor
and the sick, and by united organized systematic effort,
Ths Widows op the War.- We have seen it stated the physical and moral regeneration of the world nmy
that nineteen thousand wid^jwsh&YQ (or had some months be accomplished. la this way only may we hope for

VOL. Lxvn, 23


278 godey's lady's book and magazine.

phjsical regeneration and we might add that withoat

; "Quits," "The The sale of this work
Initials," etc.
this all hopes of a moral millenium are vain and delu- has been immense. Everybody that has read the " In-
sive. For while God contiaues to operate by ordinary itials," and who has not, should have a copy of "At
natural law^s, we cannot with any show of reason expect Odds.'*
a moral, without a physiological millenium. These LOST AND SAVED. By the Hon. Mrs. Norton, au-
must go hand in hand. A people besotted by sensual thor of "Stuart of Dnnleath," etc. Mrs. Norton has
indulgeucea a people who live in habitual violations written a brave and excellent book in extenuation of the
of the laws of their being, can never attain to the high- en'ors of a certain class of unfortunates, and in condem-
est point of Christian perfection. To believe otherwise nation of the treatment which they receive at the hands
destroys the unity of design which is the beauty, glory, of society. It is in the shape of a novel, with well de-
aod perfection of the works of the great Creator. If this vised plot, and original and well-drawn characters.
doctrine is not true, then the conclusion is, that all are We trust its readers, while they are absorbed in tha
not "parts of one stupendous whole;" and that the story, will not entirely overlook its moral.
grand machinery of the universe would work just as
well if one great link were stricken out. From Frederick Leypoldt, Philadelphia:
HOW TO MANAGE CHILDREN.
"WHO BREAKS PAYS." By the author of "Cousin
Stella," "Skirmishing," etc. This is the first volume of
When a child is hurt, never hush it op ; it is an inex- a "Foreign Libiary" which Mr, Leypoldt propqpes to
cusable barbarity; it is fighting against nature; it is
issue, and if this be a fair sample of the works of which
repressing her instincts; aud for the same reason, if
will be composed, it promises
to be a valuable addi-
it
physical punishment is iuflicted on a child, never re-
tion to our literature. "Who
Breaks Pays" the title
press its crying ; it is a perfect brutality. Cases are on
quoted from an Italian proverb is delightfully written.
record where children havebeeu thrown into convulsions Though a love-story, the struggles for Italian indepen-
in their efforts to silence ; and very little less hurtful is
dence iu 1S43 are incidentally introduced, the author
it to hire them to silence. A thousandfold better is it to
being evidently a warm espouser of republicanism.
soothe by kiudly words and acts, and divert the mind
by by explaining pictures, or by pro-
telling stories, or
viding with new toys. We have many a time, in our From Harper & Brothers, New York, throngh J. B.

professional experieuce as to sick childreu, found more
benefit to be derived from a beautiful or interesting toy,
than from a dose of physic. The greatest humanity a
mother can exhibit in respect to her sick child is to
divert it, divert it, DIVERT IT, in all the pleasing
ways possible, as we ourt^elves, who
feelsometimes really sick, when a cheerful-faced and
much loved friend has come in, and before we knew it,
we had forgotten that anything was the matter with us.
are larger children,
Lippincott & Co., Philadelphia;
JOURNAL OF A RESIDENCE ON A GEORGIAN
PLANTATION IN 1838, 1839. By Frances Anne Kem-
ble. This book has not been recently written to please
popular sentiment; but is a transcript of a journal, iu
the form of letters, addressed by the author, then Sirs.
Bntler, to a friend in the north, during her residence on
her husband's plantation on the coast of Georgia. Mrs.
(jiitler went to the South possessing all an Englishwo-

HalVs Journal of Health. man's hatred of slavery, and her experiences as an eye-
witness and as a veritable mistress of a plantation, only
served to strengthen her feelings of repugnance to the
whole system.
Jittrarg Sot^ns. MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE
LATE HON. THEO. FRELINGHUYSEN, LL. D. By
Talbot W. Chalmers, a minister of the Collegiate Church,
OwiNo to the immense increase in the price of books,
New York. The life of this eminent politician and
we will not receive further orders to send by mail. It
Christian gentleman will find many interested. readers
never was a source of profit to us, but generally a loss,
among members of all parties, as with it is interwoven
on account of the postage we had to pay.
much of the political history of his time. The title-pago
From Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia: is facpd by an excellent steel engraving of the subject of

THE CASTLES HEIR. A Novel in Real Life. By the memoir.

Mrs. Henry Wood, aaithor of "Verner's Pride," "East A POINT OF HONOR, A Novel. By the author of
Lynne," *'The Channings," etc. Of the many works "The Morals of May-Fair," "Creeds," etc. An English
from this lady's pen, "The Castle's Heir" is one of the story, the interest of which turns upon Gifford Mohun,
best. It is similar in character to " Verner's Pride," a country squire of irreproachable descent, refusing to
which it equals in interest. The story opens with a marry Jane Grand, to whom he is engaged, because there
catastrophe, and the results of this catastrophe are suf- is found to be a stain upon her father's name; and, after

ficientlyimportant to engross the reader's attention years spent in the wildest dissipation, being entrapped
through two volumes, when everything ends happily. by the wiles of the daughter of a deceased gambler.
SCIENCE FOR THE SCHOOL AND FAMILY. Part
From J. B. Lippincott & Co., Philadelphia: I. Natural History. By Worthington Hooker, M. D.
THE BOOK OF DAYS. A Miscellany of Popular An- This book treats of the laws which control the opera-
tiquities in connection with the Calendar, including tions of nature, in a style easy of comprehension and
Anecdote, Biography and History, Curiosities of Litera- entertaining. Its pages are filled with numerous illus-
ture and Oddities of Human Life and Character. Part 14 trations.
received. Price 20 cents. THE ELEMENTS OF ARITHMETIC. Designed for
CHAMBERS' ENCYCLOPEDIA. A Dictionary of Children. By Elias Loomis, LL. D., Professor of Natu-
Universal Knowledge for the People. The best Ency- ralPhilosophy and Astronomy in Yale College, and au-
clopdia published. Part 63 received. Price 20 cents. thor of "A Course of Mathematics," etc. This book is
AT ODDS. By the Baroness Tautphceus, author of designed for the training of the very youthful student


LITERARY NOTICES. 279

In mpDUl arithmetic. U 1r very thorough in Ms method, Scriptures." The Rev Mr. Silver attacks BUbopColenso
and we cannut doubt that the pupil who mat>ter8 it will from the point of view occupied by members of the ^t'cw
be prepared \a aiiupertur inituuer to uudoriako the study Jerusalem Chuich. His aim is to prove that the Scrip-
of arithmetic in itt hi^'her braDcbcs. tures bear evidence within themselves of their divine
WILLSOS S PR MAKY SrELLER. By Marciua Will- origin. The "science of corropondences," as promul-
Bon. A simple and progressive cuur^e of Ichsods in gated by Swedenborg, is made a strong point in hia
spellio^, with readiD^ atid dictation exerciseti, and the argument.
lemeats of oral and writteu compositions. A CKITIC.\L HISTORY OF FREE TnOtJGHT IN RB-
FEREXCE TO THE CIIUISTIAN RELIGION. By Adam
From Carletoit, Xew York, through Pktkksov & Storey Farrar, M. A. Michel Fellow of Queen's College,
BaoTOtiR^, riiiludclphla : Oxford. This book comprises eight lectures preached
IX THE TROPICS. By a Settlor In Santo Domingo. before the Tniversity of Oxford iu 1S62. Their author,
With au Introductory Notice by Kicburd B. Kimball, before thought wa.s ever given to the writing of these
antborof "St. Leger,'' " Undercurrt-tiU," etc. This is a lectures, spent much time in a careful examination of
rose-ttoted picture of life in the Wei^t Indies. It details free-thinking- using the terra as applied to religion in
the experience of a Xew York clerk, who, being tired of its various forms, tiiat he might be the better prepared,
city sought himself a home in the ittlaod of St. Do-
life, in understanding the points from which it is attacked,
mingp, and, with fery little capital as a basis, in the to defend the Christian faith. Ho euters deeply and
space of a single year, paid for a farm of forty acres, built thoroughly into his subject, and leaves no error uncor-
a!:mll cottage, besides doing many other notable things, rected,no sophism unexposed, and no difficulty unex-
all from the products of his own industry aided by plained.
modern farming utent^ils. If we are to believe him, the WHAT TO EAT AND HOW TO COOK IT. -By Pierre
climate of this portion of the tropica, at Ica^t, is the Biol, late Rlitor of the " Almanack Gastronouiique," of
most generous and luxu-
ino9t healthy, veg<'tation the Paris, and other gastronomical works. This book con-
rious, landed proprietors the most gentlemanly and tains over one thouisaud receipts, systematically and
open-hearted, and the blacks the mo^t faithful and practically arranged. These receipts include the sim-
obliging, of in the world. The author says: "Un-
any ple.t and most inexpensive, as well as the most difficult

der the warm

sun of the tropics white workingmen and dishes. It is, therefore, a book suited to the wants of

machinery will yet open the grandest field of civiliza- every grade of establishment, and will, as it deserves,
tion ever realized." have extensive sale.
ROCKFORD or, Sunshine and Storm. By Mrs. Lillie
;

Devereux Cmstcd, author of " South wold.' Mrs. Um- From Gori.D & Lincolk, Boston :

sted has written an attractive story, but not one pos-

TALES AND SKETCHES. By Hugh Miller, author of
sessing high literary merit. There are certain specimens
"The Old Red Sandstone," etc. Edited, with a preface,
of what the worthy "Country Parson" would call by Mrs. Miller. Th.s is not only au excellent hook hot
"veal" in her hlyle, and much that is Intended to be exceedingly interesting. The notices of the Scottifch
sprightly is really tame. However, the red-haired young poets Burns and Ferguson are beautiful. The Tales
lady, with her quartette of lovers, very passable makes i^
which follow and complete the volume are life-like pic-
heroine, and will find numerous sympathizers. By the tures of manners and characters. The stories of the
way, let giritt with auburn locks take courage. Red supernatural are told with a simplicity far more exciting
heads seem likely to become the fashion, If authors can than anything which can be wrought out wiih ornate
make them so; for during the last few weeks we have sentences and stilted expressions. This work will be a
read of scarcely less than a dozen heroines every one favorite home volume for family reading.
of them beauties who posseshed this peculiarity.
THE STORY OF MY CAREER, us a Student at Frti-
herg and Jena, and as Prn/tisor at H'dU, Brexlau, and
From D. Appleto.s & Co., New York, through W. P. Berlin. By Heinrich Sieffens. Translated by William

Hazard, Philadelphia: Leonbard Gage. This is a translation from the German,

A GLIMPSE OF THE WORLD. By the author of or rather it is the conversations of a prosy German work
" Amy Heiberl." This anonymous author has acquired into piquant, pieaj^aut English. One of the old classics,
a reputation as an excellent writer of semi-religious Addison, we believe, recommended reducing bulky
novels for the young. The present work is of this char- quartos to their quintescence. This rule has been fol-
acter. The story opens with its heroine still in the lowed most successfully with the book before ns. Leav-
school-room an awkward, unlovable girl in appear- ing out the prosings that swell the work to ten large
ance, yet at heart generous qoaliiies. Girls will
full of volumes in the original, the editor has given us a very
be specially ph-ased and edified with this story. interesting little work in which we are brought into the

THE XATl'RAL LAWS OF lirSBAXDRY. By Justua society of Goethe, Schillpr. Fichte, SchelUng Miiller, and
on Liebig. Edited by John Blyth, JI. D., Professor of many other German celebrities, among these we must
Chemistry in Queen's College, Cork. In this work not omit Blucher, nnder whom Steffens served In the
Baron Liebig gives the public his mature views on agri- campaigns of 1S13 and '14. He tells the ^ory of the bat-
culture, after sixteen years of experiments and reflection. tles of Marengo and Austerlitz. and records the flashing

The fundamental basis of this work is that the food of transit of Napoleon the 1st through the history of Ger-

plants is of inorganic nature, and that every one of the many at that period. It is a book to be very popular
elements of food must be present In a soil for the proper now iu our country.

growth of a plant.
TBE nOLY WORD IX ITS OWN DEFEXCK. Ad- From TicKifOE k FrBi-Ds, Boston, through T. B Peter-
rfr^f:(i to Bishnp and all other parnest seekers
CiileTMo, & BROTBRRit, Philadelphia:
80!T
after trnth. By Rev. Abiel Silver, of Xew York, author WEAK LUNGS. AND HOW TO MAKETHEMSTRONO.
of " Lectares on the Symbolic Character of the Sacred By Die Lewis, M. D. A book like this Is worth a dozen


280 godey's lady's book and magazine.

treatises on medicine. Its prescriptions, which consist *'

HrsKS." We concluded this admirable story in onr
in temperancp, pure air, and exercise, if faithfully fol- last number; and competent critics, and our general
lowed, are, without doubt, such as will benefit consump-
readers say and their opinion is worth a thousand of
tive invalids, as well as correct a tendency toward con-
others that nothing from the pen of any American au-
sumption and many other diseases. It is a trite proverb thor has ever equalled the last portion of " Husks." We
that "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure ," think so, too, and withuut putting our opinion in oppo-
and if people wish to act upon it, we know of no better sition to others, we still think it is worth something;
way than to procure this book and follow its advice. and we say that " Husks," as an American novel, has
OUT-DOOR PAPERS. By Thomas Wentwonh Hig- never been surpassed, iudeed we may say equalled.
pinson. This is a book similar in tone, thong-h different Numerous have been the requests to copy it, s-uch has
in character, from the one just mentioned by Dr. Lewis. been its popularity, but our answer has invariably been
It is a collection of e-says which appeared originally in that the copyright is the author's, and she should benefit
the Atlantic Mouthly. Though treating of various sub- by it. " Husks" in book form would sell well, and we
jects, they nearlybear upon the imperative necessity
all recommend the author to publish it in that form. Nest
for air and exercise to develop men and women as they month we will commence a new story by the author of
should bo, both pliysically and mentally. The essay "Husks," Marion Harland, which will run through
entitled "The Murder of the Ii'nocent.';," is well worth two numbers, October ai\d November, and in December
the consideration of every parent and teacher in the number we will publish
land.
A CHRISTMAS STORY, BY MARION HARLAND.
From LoRiNo, Boston, through F. Leypoldt, Phila-
delphia :~i- YotTNO Ladies Seminary for Boarding and Day
FAITH GARTXEVS GIRLHOOD. By the author of PppiLS.
Mrs. Gertrude J. Cary, Principal, No. 1617
**Boys at Chequasset." Tlie author says: "I he^'an Walnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. The nineteenth session
this story for young- girls. It has grown, as they grow, of this school will commence September 14th, 1863.
to womanhood. It is a simple record of somethiug of The course of study pursued embraces tlie fundamen-
the thought and life that lies between fourteen and tal and higher brandies of a thorougli English education.

twenty." The thoughts, aspirations, and troubles of Particular attention is given to the acquisition of the
girlhood are described with surpassing truthfulness. A French language, and a resident French Teacher fur-

religious done pervades the whole work, which does not nishes every facility for making it the medium of daily

prevent the style from being lively, with occasional
touches of quaiut. humor.
Our September number commences with a plate en-
intercourse. . Mrs. Gary gives personal attention to the
instruction of her pupils, aided by experienced lady
teachers, and the best professional talent in the city. It
is her constant endeavor to secure an equal devrlopment
of body, mind, and heart, and the formation of habits of
neatness and industry.
Mrs. S. J. Hale, Rev. H. A. Boardman, D. D., Rev. J.
Jenkins, D. D., Rev. M, A, Do Wolfe Howe, D. D Louis ,

titled "A Happy Party," which for elaborateness of

A. Godey, Esq*, Philadelphia Rev. J. N. Candee, D. D.,
;

engraving, perhaps, has never been surpassed. Inde- Galesbnrg, Louis H. Jenkins, Jacksonville,
111. ; 111.;
pendent of the engraving it is a truly beautiful scene.
Kev. George Duffield, Jr., Adrian, Mich.
\Ve wish the juveniles of our subscribers many such
Circulars sent on application.
happy parties. The landscape in this picture is admi-
rably eni^raved.
Our readers have lost a valuable contributor. Mrs.
Our Fashion-pliite and we cling to this title, "Our Lucy N. Godfi ey, the author of " Aunt Sophie's Visits,"
Fashion-plate" is a specimen of gorgeous coloring,
died at her residence in Betlilehpm, Vt., on the 21st of
never surpassed. Ifwe could only find room for the May last. All who know her unassuming character,
many letters ^pon the subject of our fashion-plates, we and the rich treasures of her soul, will cherish her
should be pleased to publish them. Those from dress- memory with fond affection. We think we have one or
makers we particularly appreciate, because they best
two articles from her pen still unpublished.
know, or ought to, what is preferred and what is not,
what is fashionable and what is not. We can find room The PortI^7id Trnmppt wants to know why worn-ont
fur only one: by the patrons of their paper
editors are not sent abroad
"Living in a town not exactly a city, but almost. I Ministers frequently are.
for the benefit of their health.
find your Lady's Bot)k a most unerring guide to the
jirevaleni fasliions. If I happen to suggest anything
I'liit is not in Godt^y, I am immediately set right. I have We thank Mr. A. Mathews, of New York, manufac-
I.
tnken several other magazines, and I find from results
turer of Venetian Hair Dye and Arnica Hair Gloss, for
that yours is the only true guide to the prevailing fash-
ions." the following, in answer to a correspondent :

" Shaving a Beard." A humorous engraving, es-

for
pecially addressed to those who wish to indulge in
shaving. No reference to the Board of Brokers.
New Styles for Sea-shore, Country, and other Bonnets.
We ask especial attention to the great variety we offer
iu this number.
Brodie again contributes one of his specialties; and
Brodie is celebrated the Union over for his cloak and
mantilla fashions.
Headdresses are also given in this number, entirely
novel.
Ni:w York, June 2nW, 1S63.
Editor Godky's Lady's Book Sir: I notice in the
July number, "A subscriber wishes to inquire the best
mode of making paste for sciap books, to keep them
from being so stiff."
If he will use a paste made of glue and sugar, two
parts of the former to one of the latter (by weight), dis-
solved in sufficient water to make it quite thin, he will
have the desired article. It should be prepared in a
water bath, like an ordinary glue pot, and used warm.
White glue is preferable.
 godey's akm-chair. 281

OUR MUSICAL COLUMN.
J7keXuMcnl Jfon/A^y. The sixth auii ppventh nnm-
bcrs of tins new aod pupiilHr pt'rlodicul urn nnw ready,
coDtaining a variety of dclighlful music, wliich, Jf pur-
chased in the regular wjiy, would cost nearly the prlJO
of a whole year's sabscriptina to the Monthly.
eonip*>Nltton by Briuley Kichaid^, Warblings
qnite us beautiful and effective ax bin famou-* Warhliugs
at five, is piveti entire in the seventh
number, Inadditioa
to the Gilt Edge Polka, nnd an exqui^ite new ballad
the price of the whole being bat it cents to those who
enbscribe by the year The afxth Dumber contains aa
equal amount and variety of the very best piano muKic.
To ihuse who at the outset doubt-d our ability to givo
eo much mu^^ic regularly at the price, we would say
that 80 far from failing in onr terms,
sible still The Monthly
further to increase the amount.
Is already established upon a &im basis. No one need
A WAQ a few years since procured some eye-wash of a
quack oculist in this city to be applied to a glass eye
which hv wore. The oculist, not being very sharp-
sighted, difcovered there was some defect tu the eye,
but thought it so trifling that he warranted a cure or no
pay.. The wag took the wa^h aud departed. In a week
A new
or HO after, Le returned with the empty vial, aud app-
at Dawn,
rently iu great distress. " Oh, doctor! doctor 1" said he,
" your stutf has wholly destroyed my eye !"at the samo
time opening tho lids of the empty socket with his fin-
;
ger, to the horror of the gasping and staring oculist.
" Is it possible ? can it bo possible?" exclaimed the eye-
tinker. " I never knew my medicine to operate so
before. Well, my de.ir sir, I can do nothing less than
return you your money." " But you must do more, sir.
What is five dollars* to be compared with the loss of aa
we intend if pos-
eye?" replied the wag. *'lfyon will give metwo hun-
dred dollars, 1 will sign a pledge never to expose you
,

but if you do not I will prosecute you forthwith, and

hesitate to subscribe in the fear that the work will fail.
you are a ruined man.'' The quark forked over a cheque
Those who delay may lose the early numbers, as we
for the amount and the fellow cut stick.
shall not print more than are actually needed. That
the work will be one of permanent Value there can be no
question, and the outward beauty o( the publicalioa
TiTBSB lines are respectfully dedicated to an nnkuowa
must make it an ornament to any piano or centre-table frioud, who has sent me Godey*s Lady's Book for the
past year. I certainly do appreciate the kindness ; and
la the laud. Subscriptions are still received at $3 00
per annum, and the back numbers will be sent if de-
when 1 perue its pages, I canuot refrain from feeling a
sense of gratitude lo that unknown friend, whoever it
sired. Sintrle numbers are 50 cents each, or any three
numbers will be sent as samples for $1 00. AH commu- may be.

nications, subscriptions, etc. must be sent addressed J. Dear nameless friend, to me unknown,
HoUoway, Thy kindness has to me been shown
Starr Publisher, Box Post Office, Philadel- By sending, on its peaceful way.
phia. This monthly best of all the day,
Keto Sheet MitsicK. M. Higgins, Chicago, one of the
I love to turn its ladened leaves,
most enterprising publishers in the West, has Just issued, And view its precious golden sheaves.
at 2j cents each. Vesper Bells Pulka, a beautiful compo- So full of grains of priceless lore.
To enrich the mind with heavenly store.
sition La Serena Polka, by Anyuera; La Consnelo,
;

pretty Valse Espagnole, by the same; Elsinore, Grand Each picture, leaf and word Is dear,
Because I see in fancy there
waltz by Schirner Venona Waltr, by Lampard Volun-
: ;
An image of the one who sends
teer Guard's Quickstep, same popular composer Night- ; This monthly to a grateful friend.
ingale and Emma Mazourkas, both by Herman Schtrner,
Kind giver, may ;he months to come.
and both very pretty. Also, by the same, a biilliant Find still this token in the home.
and showy tiansc iption of the Alpine Horn, intended And she who reads will ever pray
For numerous blessings oa thy way, #,
for advanced performers: this is a fine, showy piece,
price 35 cents.
The same publisher issues several flue sones and bal- A REMARKABLE Instance of the advantage which medi-
lads by the favorite song writers, J. P. Webster, Towne calmen may derive from chemistry has been published
of the Continental Vocali.sts, aud others. A Sunbeam
in the reports of the hospital H tel I>ieu, at Paris. A
young student wrote a thesis in which he showed that
and Shadow, 2.3 Wouldn't Yon Like to Know? to poetry
;

gangrene and deficiency of oxygen were to bo regarded

by Saxe, 25; Scott and the Veteran, 30; and Brother
as cause and effect Dr. Laugier, surgeon-in-chief of the
and the Fallen Dragoon, 35, are all fine songs by the
hospital, having a case of spontaneous gangrene under
former. Mr. Towne s new compositions ace Old Friends
his care, proceeded to test the theory. The patient, a
Meet Together, 2.5 ; The Plains
of Tennessee (On Picket
Guard and Under the Ice, a fine
at Stone River), 2.1;
mau of seventy-five years of age, had the disease iu one
foot, one toe was mortified, aud the whole member was
quartette, 30, My Valley Home, and Twilight Musings,
in danger. The diseased part was inclosed in an appa-
are two beantifnl melodies by Frank Howard, each 30.
ratus contrived to disengage oxygen continuously, aud
I 've been Dreaming of You, Jessie, is a touching ballad
in a short time the gangrene was arrested, and the foot
by W. S. Pitts, 2.5 cents. We can commend any of these
recovered its healthy condition. A similar experiment
songs aud pieces to our musical friends.
We can, aa usual, send any of the above pieces to any triedupon another patient equally aged, was equiiUy
address; also the following new pieces- Moss Basket from which the inference follows that treat-
successful,

Waltz, a very graceful and pleasing Vai'ie Souvenir, by ment with oxygen is au effectual remedy for a disease
Sara L. Cassidy, Z't. Musings at Twilight, charming which, too often infests hospitals.

nocturne by Fritz Spindler, .SO. An Alpine Farewell,

Ohio.
nocturne by Riche, 3j. March Militaire by Glover 30. We had a large party at onr house, and mamma made
And a beautiful new edition, In colored wrappers, of some cakes taken from Receipt Department, and I am
Brialey Bichards' celebrated melody, Warblings at delighted to tell you that I heard several ladies cay that
Bve, 35. they were the best cakes they ever ta-^^ted. We have
All orders mast be addressed, to Philadelphia, to been obliged to furnish many of onr friends with the
J. Stasr Hollowat. receipt. W. V. M.
23*
 282 godey's lady's book and magazike.
Paris Corrkspondence. Several very briUittut aud
animated balls have takeu place lately, and a few more
are talked of fov the close of the month. Sevei-al mar-
ria,i,'es are oa the tapis, marking the close of the pay
ceasoo- Upon the occasion of one of these, which is to
take place in a few days, the Hutel de Castellane was
thrown open for an evening reception, of which the
si^'ning of the marriage-contract was to make the prin-
cip:il/rrti.9. To jrive your readers some 8lii,'ht idea how
differently most of the important acts of life are carried
on in this country from what they are in our own, I am
tempted to ask them to follow me for a wliile into the
handsome saloons of this modem nobleman's residence,
which some years ago acquired a well-deserved celeb-
rity from the artistic taste which presided over and
directed its/etfiS, still remembered in the hi^'her circles
of Parisian society.
The Hutel Castellane contains on the ground floor a
handsome suit of reception rooms, known under the
names of the marble saloon, the statue gallery, the ta-
pestry saloon, etc. etc., fitted up as the various names
import. All these were thrown open to the numerous
but chosen guests, who were on that evening to sign, or
witness the signature of the marriage contract between
Madlle. de Castellane, the young and charming daughter
of the house, and the bearer of an illustiious name, well
known in French annals. The troiissean of the bride,
provided by the parents of the young lady, the Corbeille
de raarriiige^ presented by the bridegroom, and contain-
ing, as usual on such occasions, the most magnificent
shawls, laces, and jewels, and the various wedding gifts
offered by relatives and friends, were all laid out for
inspection (and, doubtless, admiration) on tables in the
various saloons above spoken of. The care with which
the various articles had been classed, so as to accord
best, or form a striking contrast with, the locale in
which they were placed, showed no small skill of
arrangement on the part of the designer. Thus, whilst
the various articles of linen, displaying marvels of em-
aud elaborate workmanship,
broidery, fine stitching,
were exhibited in a plain, large saloon, ratherausterely
fitted up with Gothic furniture and carved woods, the
diamonds, pearls, and other jewels heaped on the fair
iride, sparkled in the tapestry chamber, amid profusions
of laces for flounces, shawls, robes, bridal veils, and a
thousand other articles ot temale wear, the brilliancy of
the gems, and light, exquisite texture of the laces, re-
lieving, and at the same time showing off, the rare and
precious hangings of the room. Rich shawls, furs, and
velvets, the contents of the Cnrbeille, were laid out in the
Statue Gallery, as well as many massive
articles of
plate, presented to the youug couple by wealthy rela-
tives on either side. The richest silks, satins and bro-
cades, in such abundance as to make one wondev when
Fuch things could be worn out, were thrown in heaps
on the divans, causettsfs, and tables of a beautifully fit-
ted up modern drawing-room and coquettishly fur-
nished boudoir adjoining. Amidst these costly adjnncla
to a French marriage in high life, where the contracting
parties are rich, the friends and acquaintances invited,
wandered for a couple of hours, admiring, examining,
and commenting on all this luxurious display, aud no
doubt pronouncing the bride a most enviable being, and
ihe whole affair a most happy one.
/ ileanwhile in an adjoining room, a massively fitted
np library, sat the Nutnire (the same identical yotairfi,
.we have all seen some time or other in any French vau-
dei^Ue and comedy), with the marriage contract, the
object of the evening's reunion, before him, passing the
pen from one gloveU hand to another, sparkling with
gems, the one important fact of the evening, though per-
haps the least regarded, being the signature to be affixed
to this document. As a matter of pride, the family on
BQch occasions invite the highestaud most distinguished
persons among their circle of acquaintances to pei'form
this act, and many of tlie best known names in France
w^re collected together in the Hutel Castellane on the
evening in question for this purpose.
Great excitement aud curiosity prevail in private
circles here on the Kubj#<.-t of three representations got
up for charitable purposes by 3Ime. Tascher de ia Pagerie,
to be given at the hotel of the Countess de Moyendorff.
These are to consist of a series of tablentix vivnnls, the
subjects taken from some of the best-known works of
great artists. Most of the leading beauties of the day,
foreign as well as French, are to take part in the.^e t<ib'
l&ntj:, which are beiug got up with the greatest care aud
minute attention to all the details of the originals. The
first of these soirees takes place this evening, and it ia
said that nearly as many tickets of admissiou have l>eea
already refused as the saloons of the hotel are capable
of admitting. The rush for the second soiree may there-
fore be expected to be tremendous.
The Prince Imperial, now seven years old, is a fine
boy, bearing amarked resemblance to his mother about
the lower part of his face, of which the upper portion,
however, is broad, aud cast more in the Napoleonic
type. He was dressed in a black suit of knickerbockers
of rather a sombre aspect, with a small straw hat edged
with blue, and a knot of the same colored ribbon. The
Empress, whose toilettes are universally allowed to be
unrivalled for good taste and elegance, was diaped in a
I
bright blue silk dress, made exceedingly ample and
sweeping out at the back into a half train the only ;
trimming consisted in five rows of white taffetas at the
lower part of the skirt, which was also repeated on the
hnsqtiines of the body, and edged the round cape, or
collet, worn
loosely over the shoulders, aud which was
of the same color and material as the robe. A blue
bonnet made of crape, and unrelieved by flowers or
feathers, completed her costume. But I should not say
completed, for it was evident the most novel and impor-
tant item, not only in the fair wearer's, but in her at-
tendant ladies' eyes, was the natty, zephyr-like parasol,
carried in the Empress Eugenie's hand, aud which,
composed entirely of white marabout feathers, looked as
if every puff of wind would blow it away and dissolve
it into air.
One day. in a trial for petty larceny before the Tri-
bunnl Correctionnel of Paris, a handsome young lady,
smartly and stylishly dressed, was called upon to appear
as a witness. The presiding Judge asked her for her
name, and then put the usual question concerning her
profession. " I faint," answered Madame, in her weak-
est though most silvery tone. The gallant votary of
Themis told an officer of the court to bving her a chair,
and allowed her sufficient time for recovering. Then,
" Be not afraid, Madame," said he " and please to tell
:
me, before you are sworn, what is your piofessiou."
" I faint," again bashfully whispered the pretty witne.^s,
in a scarcely audible voice. This time the vice-president
sent for a glass of water. The interesting dame sipped
it slowly, then, bowing gracefully to the Judge, she
looked at him, seemingly waiting for further questions.
And again she was required to state her profession.
Wondering and thoroughly amazed, she replied, " But,


godet's arm-chair. 283

Monsieur le President, I had blU ready twice the honor LooKlxo ovor "Godey" for March, 1862, and In th6
my profession is to fjiint." " Tn faint:" " Arm-Chuir," I saw a notice, asking some of your sub-
to tell yort that
exclainnd ihe Bench, with one voice. "Can that ever Bcribers for a receipt for "skeletoa flowers or leaves."
be a pror<'!islonr" Madame answered in the affirmative, Tboagh [ am not a subscriber, I am partial to yonr

and expliiiued that tthe earned a livelihood, aud not a Book, and get it often, therefore 1 take the liberty of glv
de^ipicttMe Olio either, by sitting every eveninir, in a Ing you a receipt which I tliink very good for skeletons.
most fii^biooable dress, in a prominent balcooy-stall at The leaves or flower>< are to be placed in a small
the Thtfaior do la Porte Saint Martin, aud appropriately quantity of water until they are completely decomposed.
fainting away, out of sheer emotion, at tlie trag^ical (Warm weather Is to be preferred.) They are then to be
moment poiuted oat beforehand by tho author uf the taken out of the water and laid on a marble njjib or flat
play. She lidded that herservicos were highly valuable, surface. Clean water is then gently poured in a small
and that the manager hud never had to conplain of the stream over them, and thus the decayed p:irticles are
lmpre!$Htve manner in which she, for one, performed her washed away, leaving behind only a serie-* of woody
part. fibres, or sap vessels, which constitute a beautiful net-
work, particularly in small leaves. This operation
All the old residents at Saratoga, and not a few of the being performed, they should be placed in the sun, and
Ti3ito^^, know Tom Camniel, a genaino nan of Africa, when dry, may be fixed with glue on a backtrround of
who possesses in a large degree all the pecaliarities of black velvet and placed in a glazed frame or glass case,
his race, including a strong vein of wit and a hearty as taste may direct a beginner should cointiieuce theex*
;

love of the bottle. On one occa.<<ion Tom was

hired by periments with the hirge^^t leaves, as with them failan
a gentleman residing in the environs to take off some is less likely than with more delicate ones.
dead branches from the trees on his lawn. Tom had Mrs. Ellioti.
been imbibing a little, and went to work accordingly ;

coolly seating himself ou the outermost end of a large

limb, and sawing away vigorously at the portion next
A sTATtsTiciAN has been calculating the chances of
widowers of getting married as compared with thoseof
the trunk. By and by down came limb, Tom, and all,
bachelors. It appears that according to marriage regis-
tumbling in company. Some persons near by, on seeing
trations the chances are three times greater of widowers
the fall, ran to the aid of the sable functioDary. Tom's
between the ages of twenty-five and thirty getting mar-
first remark was
ried than tho^e of bachelors five times greater betweea
;

"Is dnr any lawyer 'mong dese gemmen 'Cos if I

the ages of thirty and forty-five and eleven times after

,

dar is, dis niggar wants to make his will."

the age of sixty. The chances, it would appear, of bach-
That Tom not only survived, but recovered his bodily
elors getting married, rapidly diminish after tho age of
and mental powers may be inferred from the following,
thirty.
which took place a few months afXer his fall. It was on
one of those excessively warm days of the pat-t summer
that Lawyer B. met Tom in the street. \ow everybody Music Receivfd from Horace Waters, 4S1 Broadway,
hat a word for Tom, and the latter is never backward in New Tork, and 0. Ditson k Co., 277 Washington Street,
replying. Boston, Massachusetts:
"Terribly hot weather this!" said the gentleman. A collection of songs, quartettes, by J. Payton, Leader
' How do you stand it, Tom ?" of Band First Conn. Artillery.
" Oh, Tnassa," said Tom. stepping one side, taking off Morning Dreams, a collection of popular song.s, with
his hat and making a low bow, "don't f^pcak a word brilliant variations for the plano-foite, by Mr:>. Parls-

'boat It. I 'se most as brack as a nigger myself, al- harst.

ready." Foster's Melodies, among which are, " When this War
is Ended," " There's l*leuty of Fish in the Sea."
T. B. Peterson & Brotdebs, Pablishers of this city,
have issoed a catalogue of the works they have pob- Wb find two sentences which may comfort some of the
li.shed. We advise all who want good, and at the same homely women.
lime cheap reading to send for a catalogue. *'
A woman," says one, " can only be beautiful in one
style, she may be charming in a thousand."

M.iTCH Maxcpactcrb. So extensive a branch of In- *A woman," says the other, "may lose her beauty
duNtry is match manafacture, that in London alone one with her youtli ; her thoasand superior charms she may
saw-mill is pretty nearly always at work in cutting up retain to old age."
large timbers into splints,
.5,000. (XRi.O'O of matches yearly

being produced In the metropolis. Tho cases for tho Pear Sir: Please ask some of yonr corre<pondaU
matches imported by one of the merchants weighed 400 for a receipt for cleaning lace veils, and oblige a
tons annnally. The greatest seat of match-making is, SUBSCBIBER.
however, located in Austria. The principal makers
were well represented in the late Exhibition; bnt the
How TO Color the PHOTOGRArH. Messrs. J. E. Tri/-
I scale on which their works are carried on almost doQes
belief. M. PoUak at Vienna, and M. Furth in Bohemia,
Tox &. Co., Boston, have just published a little manual
on the art of painting the photograph, which is for sale
employ together about 6,000 persons, producing the at the bookstores, or will be sent by them, post-paid,
amazing number of 44, SOO, 000,000 matches annually. for 10 cents.
The low price at which they are produced is equally The same publishers are about publisbiag a capital
startling. M. Furth sells boxes, each containing eighty story for the boys, by the author of " Father Bright-
matches, at one penny per dozen. M. HarriK, of Suhl, hopes." It is to be called "The Drummer Boy," and is
sells 1,400 bplints for a farthing: and D9 Majo, of Mora- a true historical account of "The Barnside Expedition."
via, sells a case of fifty boxes, each containing 100 laci- It will be illustrated by F. 0. C. Darley, and issued in
fers, for foarpence. the Messrs. Tilton's well-known attractive btyle.
 284 godey's lady's booe and magazine.

We bel.eve that all ladies take ao interest ia dress, lined with black taffetas, trimmed with white glace,
covered with b ack guipure lace cordage drapee jupe
Bnd to cater for that taste we give the folIowiDg descrip- ; ;

of black tattetas, coveied with volants of black ihulle de

tion that tliey may see how the ladies on the other side Lyo.is tunic of guipure lace, ornamented with nceuds
;

of the water adorn their persons. The occasion was de satin, and bouquets of white lilac aud black v-lvet
leaves. Tia: a aud necklace of diamonds, ostrich plumes,
her Majesty's Drawing-Room Reception.
aud lace lappets.

DvcluiSf of K'vtk'im/jfTlnnd. Train of blue Ottoman, Countf'S.tff Tankermlle.
Train of superb black crys-
lined with white giace, aud trininnd with point lace tallise silk, lined with black satin, ornamented with
and blue velvet; stomacher of inatfuiBcenl diamonds; bouffants de thulle attacher par des eioilles de jais cor- ;

dress of ponlt de soie, trimmed with \elvet aud point sage Mudded with diamonds; jupe of black satin, cov-
lace. Headdress, feathers, point lappets, and diamond ered with bouffants de thulle, with tunic relieve par
tiara. des et'>iltes de jais. Parnre of diamonds, ostrich plume,
D'lrhffts
of Bvcclevgh. Train of green gothic moire, aud thulle veil.
lined with glace, and trimmed with thulleaud Brussels
lace skirt of green pouU de soie, trimmed with thulle

Countess <jf Durhnm. Train and petticoat of prim-
;
rose glace, Wruamented with thnlie bouillons and rich
and Brussels lace. Headdress, feathers, lace lappets, Brussels lace, with blue convolvulus and
festooned
and tiara of magnificent diamonds; necklace, etc., of brown grass. Headdress, plumes, lappets, and bine
diamonds. convolvulus; ornaments, diamonds.

Dudm-ss of Roxburghe. Train of green satin, lined
Countess of Fife. Train and bodice of green glace,
"With white glace, and trimm-r^d with Bru.-'sels lace dress ; lined with white glace, and trimmed with thnlie petti- ;

of green and white thuUe over glace, trimmed with Arum coat of green glace, with guipure lace tunic, ornamented
lilies. Headdress, feathers, aud lappets ornaments, ;
with rice flowers. Headdress, feathers, lappeta orna- ;

emeralds, aod diamonds. ments, diamonds.

Mfirckiont-ftf of Unntly.
Train of gray poult de soie, Frnncfss Countess Wnld^grave. A train of the richest
lined with white, aud trimmed with B u?i.sels lace; white velours royal, lined with pink taffetas, very ele-
dress of gray ihulle over glace, trimmed with Brussels gantly trimmed with pink aud Biussels lace, bouquet
lace and white Bengal roses. Headdress, feathers, and of moss roses and ivy. corsage princtss to cor-espoud,
lappeis ornaments, diamonds.
;
with lace and diamonds skirts of white and pink taffe-
CoiiTXtfSs Vniistnnct'. Grt>RVf}inr.
Train of white satin,
;

tas, covered with magnificent Brussels point lace, fl-mnce,

trimmed with a trellis-work of blue vnlvet and bunches aud bouquet of mosy roses and ivy. Coiffure of ostrich
of chestnut blossom; diess of white thuHe over glace feathers, lace lappets, aud diamonds paiuie of diamonds ;

trimmed with blue velvet and blonde. Hi-address, fea- aud pearls.
thers, thulle veil, and diamond ornaments. Viscountess Palmerstnn. Tn.\n of violet crystallise,
CoHiiti's.s (f yl.s7it(/rn//i. Train of black poult de
lined with white glace and trimmed with black laceand
Boie, trimmed with thulle; dress of black silk, trimmed Bi us.sels, dress of violet crape over glace, trimm-d with
with thulle and white roses. Headdress, feathers, aud black and white Jace. Headdress, feathers, and lace
thnlie veil jet ornaments. lappets; ornaments, diamoi.ds.
CoiiniesH of Bradford.
Train of green gothic moire, Viscon7)tfss Comhermere.
Dress of white moire,
lined with white glace, aud bv'rdered with point lace trimmed with borders of gold moire tunic of gold moire, ;

and plaiting of green velvet dress of gieen crape over

;
covered with white thnlie, looped all round with white
glace, trimmed with point lace aud velvet bows. Head- and gold cold aud tassels; train of white moire trimmed
dress, feathers, and lace btppets ornaments, diamonds.
;
with bouillons of Ihulle and gold Indian embroidery,
Counftss of Zdiand. Train of violet poult de soie, festened on the shoulders with diamonds. Headdress,
trimmed with point lace aud violet velvet rosettes ; feathers, lappets, and diamonds.
iress of white crystaUi-;p, trimmed wiih point lace and
iolet velvet. Headdress, fe.ithers and point lace lap-
pets; ornaments, diamonds.

fkuinUss ff GrmiAb'tronoh. Train of black silk, The Credit Ststem. A beautiful girl stepped into a
trimmed with thulle and nbbou dress of black tfaulle ; shop to buya pair of mitts.
over silk, trimmed with bows of white terry velvet and *'
How much are they ?"
black lace. Headdress, feathers, aud lappets; orna- "
ments, sapphires, and diamonds. Why,"
said the gallant but imprudent clerk, lost ia

Count* ss of DtiikvUh. Train of white and silver moire, gazing upon her sparkliug eyes and ruby lips, "yon
lined with blue glace, and trimmed with blue aud sil- shall have them for a kiss."
ver ; skirt of blue thulle over glace, trimmed with
" Agreed," said the young lady, pocketing the mitts,
magnificent Brussels lace. Headdress, feathers, and
silver veil; ornaments turquoises, and diamonds and her eyes speaking daggers " and as I see you give
;

Countess of Ritthea. Train of rich white poult de soie,
credit here, chaige it ou your books, and collect it in the
lined with glace, and trimmed with Brussels lace and
bands of saiin; skirt of white satin, with flounces of best manner yon can !" So saying, she hastily tripped
Brussels lace, ornaroented with bouquets of cerise rose- out at the door.
buds and jasmine. Headdress, featiiers, and Brussels
lace lappets; on aments, diamonds, and pearls.
Couiiit^f.t nf KimiouU.
Train and corsage of richest Chestnct Street Female SEMiifART, English and
- maize pooU de soie glace, lined with glace, and richly French Boarding and Day School. The twenty-seventh
trimmed with black Brussels lace and ruches: petti- annual session will open Wednesday, September 9th.
coat of same glace, trimmed with Black Brussels lace,
bouillons of thulle illusiuu, and ruches. Headdress, Particulars from circulars. Address Miss Bouney, or
black lace lappets, feathers, and maize roses, with mag- Mies Dillaye, 1615 Chestnnt Street, Philadelphia.
nificent ro-ves.
C'lnDt'^.sft of Bnndon.
Costume de conr, composed of
a magnificent brocaded moire, liued with white glace, Messrs. J. E. TitTON & Co., Boston, have for sale all
aud trimmed with bouillons of thulle aud lace white ;
materials for the different styles of Painting and Draw-
poult de soie petticoat, with handsome lace Bounces
looped with ferns. Headdress, splendid tiara of dia- ing taught in their book, Aet Recreatioks. They will
monds, plume, and lappets. send a price Ist, if requested, and answer neces'-ary
Countfits of Tnrbnrotigh.
Train of white crystallise questions, and will send, post paid, the b'-ok fo.-- $2 00.
Bilk, lined with poult de soie blanc, trimmed with rich
Brussels lace and blue velvet leaves cor-age to corre- Itteaches Pencil and Crayon Drawing, Oil Painting of
:

6poQd, ornamented with diamonds jupe of white glace ;

every kind. Wax-work, Leather-work, Water Color
silk, covered with thulle and a tunic of Bruxelle de
Painting, and hundreds of fancy kinds of drawing,
dentelle. trimmed with festoons of blue velvet leaves.
Paruie of diamonds, and ostrich plume. painting, etc. etc.

Cnunffss of Lichfidd. Train and cor.sage of black gros
d'Afriqne, lined with black satin, trimmed with ruches
of satin and silver braid jupe of black satin, covered
;
A LADY that would please herself In marrying, was
w th volants of thulle, with trimmed tunic en tablier, warned that her intended, although a good sort of man,
ornamented with bouquets of epis d'argent and black was very singular. " Well," replied the lady, " if he is
grass. Tiara of diamonds, ostrich plume and silver
veil.
very much unlike other men, he is much more likely to
Oov.9tts8 Cawdor, ^TraXu. of rich black moire aatiqae, make a good husband,"
 godet's arm-chaib. 285

JUVENILE DEPARTMENT. R. T.,

MIsa M. K.
Jr.Sent hair ring l^h.
C
Sent drees by Kinsley-e express Iblh.
Mrs. W.C W
Sent cloak by Kioaley's express ISfh.
CHARADES nr TABLEAUX.
M. W. W. Sent hair ring 2ad.
XEWS-BOT. Mrs. XL B. Sent hair ring 23d.
Miss E. W. Sent hair ring 2ad.
TXBLEXCL SEWS-
Mrs. L. A. C- Sent hair pin 22d.
Tbb scae repreaeou ib kitcba of a &rm-hoa*e.
la Mrs. C. H. McE.Sent carl clasps 22d.
t& eestre of Ute ai^ U & Urge
oId-CiUand chair. La
W. G. B. Sent hair chain 22d.
which u waced aa old. maa. in lh Daval or raiuury
A. W. T. Seat hair ring 22d,
coacame of 151 iBoirov somebody's heirloomj ) To

E. A. H. Sent silk and braid for vest 23d.
Mrs. A. W G. Sent braidia^ pattern Sllh.
hif lft la a ubl, Bpoa which taad a jo^ of al and a
plaC0 of appla. Tb old ana a a left arm reals apoa tha Mrs. C VT. S-Sent hair work 30th.
Uble, ki baad ap to hi* ear to help bia hearing hta ;
K M.Sent hair cro^s 30ch.
L.
cifkc-bajid re^ts opoa a eaae beld beCweea bis kaeed.
P E. T. Sent pattern 30th.
Mad bis whole aititade U oae of Ls&eoioj;. To hi^ ngac,
L. Y. F. Sent pattern 30th.
Mrs. P. Cadnc. Sent box containing wardrob by
la forttfronad, ts spaced a little b>j rvadtsg from a news-
paper To the left, ia froat of Che table, staads a little
Wells. Fargo, k Co. 'a express Jnly 1st.
gUl, her ha:ids clasped toother, lookiog iateatly at the
reader leaaiag over the old ntan, one baad oa the back
Mrs. S. C. A. 6. Sent patcern 3d.
:
Mrs. M Sent pattern 3d.
S.
of his cbajr, oa* on tht table, a foua^ firL whose
E. A S Sent pattern 3d.
is
Mrs
aoxioos, aad attitade oae of painfol atteatio&.
Cace
A^Qtc
is

waU,aboTe her head, haags

Mrs. M. M. Sent pattern, etc. 3d.
Che the portrait of
A. C W. Sent dating machine by express 9th.
a toidier.
E. M. J Sent pa:tenis 9th.
TABLsar n. BOT. Mrs. S. C. G Sent braiding pattern lOth.
Tbe scene represeats a schoolroom, with aa opea door
Mrs K A. Sent spectacles 10th.
to the left of liack((roaad. In the centre of sU^a Is tha
Miss L. S. &. Good pare soap ia very good to cleaa
the teeth with. It don't taste rery nlcei
schoolmaster s desk, and oae of the bojA is seated oa the
stool behind it, holdio^ ap a ruler in lao^hini^ menace.
Mrs G B T. In some of the Episcopal churches also
the confirmation dress is worn.
Part of the bojs are ranged in front of the deak for reci-
E. B-~W.>a.rit in short carls all roand yoarhead antil
tation and one poor fellow, with his ^ce tied up, is
:

the hair geif stroo^er

sealed oa a stool bf the master's desk, stndjin^. In the
centre of furegruand a timiJ-iookiajj boy the ntno
is
C H. We wi-ih we
could help yna, bat the com-

t'jjf
who with folded hands and frightened ^ce. Is Borrowers are a naisance.
plaints are so fre<)aeat. Wa
hare roach and bag extermiQ%tors ; will not some one
beiaj{ TicCimixed. A ^oap of bo/s a.e aronnd him.
invent a powder, or something else, that will drire
Oae is inking a Serce moostache on his npper lip an- :

borrowers from the bonse. All who are troabled with

other pa:s a foul's-cap oa his head: a third has taken
his cap, and is patting a tall feather Into it a fonrth i<s
them will please mark this paragraph with ink marks
:

thas ( ). the moment they receive their books, aad if

stealia;^ the laacheon oat ^f his >iatchel a fifth draws a ;

that donH stop them nuthiag wlU.

earicatare of him on a slate: a sixth points his fiog^er
S. S. B. asks for a recipe to redace her fair proportions.
and laaghsas him, while a serenth, kneeling, la tnrnin^
She is ''t>o stoat.*' and has "too much color.'' Xothiag
his toes in. Throo^h Che open door in the backgronnd,
the sch^tolmaster U seen conToviag with the new boj'a
can be easier. Giv? ap dinners ; accept the sitaation of
mother, who is paying him some money, while the governess in a large fitmily, or lady companion to aa
little sifter peeps roand the door-posts to see the school-
invalid ; select a mistress warranted " nagging ;" if the

room. children be spoilt, so mneh the better. The recipe U

in^Uible.
TJLBLkAr in. yEW5-BOT, W. E.Perfectly proper.
J.
Only one Sgnre is repaired for this scene. A boy la Miss O. M. We
have repeatedly said that we wHI
the ra^-.,'-^ dre^s of a newsboy, with a shabby cap, and not mention any remedy for the removal of snpenlaoaa
l->es peeping oat of his boots. Is sealed on the door in the hair.
cent, e of foreground. On the floor beside him are a ^e
of papers, and a half eaten apple; in f.ont of himonihe
floor Is a pile of penalea, which he is engaged in coant-
log. A boy ia the dark Italiaa style of beaoty. with
Cljtmistrn for tijf flounti
v:
black <>T>;s, d essed in a red shirt, with colo ed stockings,
and w:;boat any jacket, makes the best effect. LESSOS XXin.iContitnied.)
575. Take a length of
platinam wire long enoagu
fine
PHILADELPHIA AGE5CT. to be held conveniently, and bend one end
into a very
Ko order attended to anieas the cash aceompaoles It. small loop. The loop may be regarded as a window-
AU persons reqairing answers by mAil most send a frame hereafter to be filled with glasses of different
post^ffice^tamp aad for all articles that are to be seat
: colors.
bf BaiL, stamps most be seat to pay retora postage. 57^ Slightly moisten the loop with the tongne. dip it
Be particalar, whea writiag. to mentioa tha towo, into some powdered silica, and apply the stroogeet
oonty. and State- yoa reside in. Sothing eaa be nada blowpipe heat. The silica does aot fase. Mix a portion
Oct of poat-marka. of silica with earbooaie of soda (aboat three times its

Mr- M A- Sent box containing wardrobe by Adams's own balk), and a little borax ; dip the moistened I009
express Jane 13th. into it, and apply the strongest point of blowpipe ti
286 godey's lady's book anb magazine.-

Bemark now with what extreme facility the whole of amalgamation will answer, and possibly it may he

coheres into a glass; but the glass is transparent and the best. Suppose, however, we have no mercury, nor
colorless. Do not fail to observe during this operation can obtain any. Suppose the moist plan, for some
the evolution of bubbles from the fused mixture. The reason, ineligible how are we to get out the silver and
babbies are of carbonic acid, liberated from the carbonate gold? In the first place, it is evident, we must reduce
of soda by means of the silica, or silicic acid, which the compound by fusion to a liquid state: we must use
takes its place. Also, do not fail to observe the yellow a flux. What shall it be ? Why, supposing expense to
tinge imparted to the blowpipe flame, in consequence of be no object, we have already proved that carbonate of
the presence of soda-salts {borax aud carbouate uf soda). soda, or still better, a mixture of this with borax, is an
Our glass is colorless and remember that only calci-
; admirable flux for silica. Another consideration now
genous metals, as a rule, are able to color glass. At arises the precious metals being in exceedingly small
present, we have none of these in our bead. quantity, will,when fused, be difficult to collect hence, ;

Fuse the bead in its platinum loop, and, when

577. they must be diluted. Lead is an excellent diluent for
fused, dip it into a few particles of iron rust then melt ;
gold and silver combining with these metals, when all
;

all together in the hottest or reducing portion of the are fused in contact, no less readily than quicksilver in

blowpipe flame. Remark that no lottger have we a the cold. Shall we use metallic lead for this purpose?
colorless but a colored glass and the color very much
;
We might, but red lead (oxide of lead) evidently admits
resembles that of which the so called black buttles are of muro ready incorporation, and the lead which it

made. Try now the effect of the external or oxidizing yields is pure we will use red lead, therefore. But to
;

flame, and observe how the former blackish-green tinge
verges toward yellow and red, owing tu the formation
of red or peroxide (rust). Repeat the latter portiun of
the experiment, with the addition of a very minute bit
our flux we must now add charcoal to assist in the re-
moval of oxygen from red lead. Therefore, our mixture
will be composed of gold, silver, iron, copper, silica,
and lead, and charcoal to which we will add oil or
;

of nitre to the bead, and remark the increase of reduess tallow, sufficient to make the whole coherent, and pro-
or peroxidation. Iron is tbe only metal which behaves ceed as directed before. The ref>ulting metallic globule,
in this way ; and by these characteristics may it always which will be more or less perfect according as you are
be known. more or less expert, will contain the whole of the
578. Strike the loop with a hammer, break the glass,
metals, in combination with lead. From tbe mixture,
all, except gold and silver, are separable by cupellation,
and make in the empty loop a bead of melted borax.
The bead is colorless. Dip it when hot into just one and gold and silver must be separated by the moist
processes already enumerated.
email particle of copper (got by filing or scraping a
penny, for example). Heat the mixtuie in the oxidiziug
5S4. In concluding these remarks, we will add that
the quantities, and the nature of the fluxes used, are a
or outside coue, and observe the blue tinge. Now heat
matter of judgment. As to quantity, the "rule ol
It in the inner flame, aud observe how the blue tends
thumb," as it is alone brought into
vulgarly called, is
towards red. The change, however, may be moie readily
requisition. To use tbe blowpipe well requires great
effected by addiug to the cupreous bead the minutest por-
tact and experience ; but the portability, the almost uni-
tion of tin-foil. This appearance is characteristic of
versal applicability, the power of this elegant little in-
copper.
strument, fully recompense the chemist for the time he
Repeat the experiment with some compound of
579.
must expend In order to become an adept at its use.
manganese, say black oxide, which is the most common
ore of the metal. In the outer flame, a violet tinge
results; in the inner flame, the bead becomes colorless,
especially if tin, as in the last experiment, be added. Jfasljioiis.
580. Gold, although it yield such an exquisite ruby
color to glass, cannot be got, at least practically, to
yield the same color in blowpipe opei ations. The chief NOTICE TO LADY SUBSCRIBERS.
blowpipe information derivable for this metal consists Having had frequent applications for the purchase of
in obtaining it on charcoal in a metallic state a similar ; jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, the
remark applies to silver. , Editress of the Fashion Department will hereafter execute
JSl. Takii a little red lead (oxide of lead) mix it with ; commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of
borax and powdered charcoal, and a little tallow oil, or a small percentage for the time and research required.
Bperraaceti from the candle; apply the reducing flame, Spring and autumn bonnets, materials for dresses, jewelry,
and observe the metallic lead. envelops, hair-work, worsteds, children's wardrobes, man-
582. We shall conclude these few remarks on analysis tillas,and mantelets, will be chosen with a view to econo-
by the dry or igneous way, by sketching out the pro- my, as well as taste and boxes or packages forwarded
;

cess by which an ore of gold, silver, iron, copper, aud by express to any part of the country. For the last,
Bilica the usual constituents of gold quartz may be distinct directions must be given.
worked- Premising, however, that hitherto the process Orders, accompanied by cheeks for the proposed earpen'
of amalgamation has been more generally followed in diture, to be addressed to tfie care of L. A. Godey, Esq.
the obtaining of gold than the process of smelting. No order imll be ntte7ided to intless the money is first
583. luto a Wedgewood mortar or still better, one of received. Neither the Editor nor Puhlishei' will be ucconnU
agate, if you have one put a few grains of silica, i. e., able/or losses that may occur in remitting.
powdered add about three square inches of gold
flint, The Publisher Lady's Book has no interest in
of the
leaf, a spangle of copper and of iron, and about one this department, and knows nothing of the.transactions ;

equare inch of silver leaf; rub all well together. Now and whether the person sending tbe order is or is not a
we may suppose this mixture to be auriferous quartz in subscriber to the Lady's Book, the Fashion editor does
powder, and the problem given of removing the silver not know.
and gold. Huw are we to de it? Firstly, the process Instructions to be as minute as is possible, accompanied
 FASHIONS. 287

by a note and goueral style of

of the height, complexion, a Btauding linen collar. The hat Is of black felt, trimmed
the person, on which much dejyimdg In choice. Dress with a black feather and a scarlet bow. The faalr Is
gcMiU from Evans & Co.'s mourning goods from Benson
; caught up In an Invisible net, the exact shade of the
& Son cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from Urodie'e, 61
; hair.
Caual Street, New York bonnets from the most celebrated
;

establishments; jewelry from Wriggens & Warden, or LATEST STYLE OF BONNETS.

CatdweU'p, Philadelphia. {See engravings, page 216.)
When goods are ordered, the fiu^hiona that prevail here
Fig. 1. Fancy cuir-colored hat, made of cactus braid.
(fovero the porchase; therefore, no articles will he taken
It is trimmed with black velvet and field flowers, and
back. When the goods are sent, the transaction must be has a very deep fall of black lace over the brim.
considered final.
Fig. 2. Fancy hat of white chip, bound with black
velvet and trimmed with velvet, plaid ribbon, and a
DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION-PLATE FOR black feather. This hat also has a deep fall of black
SEPTESIBER. lace.

BALL PLATE. Fig. 3. A

1. White cr'pi dress over white
Fiff.
waved puffings on the edge of the pkirt, separated
thick mcbingf} of pink silk. Down each breadth of the
nkirt is a graduated piece of white silk trimmed with
pink silk rachings, sewed on in waves, with sprays of
roses caught between the waves.
The corsage is plain,
with a long point both back and front, and trimmed
lavender silk drawn bonnet, with black
laco fall over the curtain. The bonnet is of tho Marie
6ilk,#with six
Stuart shape, and has a fall of black lace drooping over
by
the front. The trimming, both inside and out, consists
of black velvet and Magenta roses.
Fig. 4. Cuir-colored
diamond chip bonnet, with a
silk cape of tho exact shade. The outside trimming la
of cnir-coloredjlowcrs, o(*a darker shade than the bon-

with roses and pink ruchinga. The hair is rolled and net. Inside are pink roses, black velvet, and blonde

heavily braided. The coiffure is of tufts of roses caught laco.

on to branches of the wood twinedform the wresttb,

to

Fig- 2. Pearl-colored silk dress, trimmed with one CHITCnAT rPON NEW YORK AND PHILADEL-
deep flounce laid in very heavy box plaits, with three PHIA FASHIONS FOR SEPTEMBER.
r<iws of black trimming lace passing over them. The OcR readers must not expect to find in our present
corsage i? straight round the waist, and finished by a Chat any very great novelties, as we are in the dead
black lace sash listened at the back by loops and long season of invention. Too late for summer and too early
ends. The corsage is in folds, in the Sevigw' style, and for fall fashions. It^is impossible for us to predict with

trimmed with black lace. The coifl"are is composed of much accuracy what fashions will be adopted or re-
tufts of ivy, with berries. jected, as the public, and especially the feminine pub-
Fig. 3. Plain white glnci silk dress, with corsage lic, is so very capricious.
poiuted both back and front. The bretelles cross at the In our last number we spoke of theYak lace, as a
back, and are finished with long streamers, the same as novelty lately introduced in Paris. The oddity of the
In front. They are of pink silk, richly embroidered and name excited our caiiosity. As we have been enlight-
trimmed with a narrow pink ribbon. The edge
fluted ened as to its origin, we share our knowledge with oor
of the skirt is cut in shallow waves, aud fini-hed with a readers, supposing that they feel as curious on the sub-
quilling of pink silk. Linked rings ornament the skirt ject as ourselves.
at Che distance of every half yard. The coiffure is of The lace is made from the heavy fringes of hair taken
pink velvet and ostrich feathers. from the sides of the Yak, or Grunting Ox of Thibet so ;

Fig. 4. White with five narrow flounces

silk dress,
pinked on the edge. The cloak is of crimson velvet,
elei,'antly embroidered and trimmod with black. The
coiffure is of cherries, with their foliage.
F^g. 5.
Light amber-colored satin dress, finished at
called from the peculiar noise it makes, which is said to
be like the grunt of a pig. The white bushy tail of the
Yak is in great request, we are told, for various purposes,
and forms qnite an extensive article of commerce. Dyed
red formed into those curious tufts which decorate
it is

the edge of the skirt by a narrow black lace flounce, and
having cordons of black lace leaves down each breadth.
The coiffure and mantle are in one, being the Spanish
capuchon. It is trimmed with a black and white lace
ruchlng in the coronet style, and tufts of carnations at
the side. The ends caa fall in the mantilla style, as
represented in oor plate, or they can be carried to the
back and fall as a black lace sash.
LATEST STYLE OF RIDING-DRESSES.
{See engracings, pages '20S,
We present our readers with two views of a novel
and stylish Ttding habit. It is made of black cloth,
trimmed with a fluted worsted braid and large gilt but-
tons. The sleeves are clorse, and made with a gauntlet
oaff. The habit is made with revers, and very short in
the waist, in order to show the white cashmere vest
trimmed with a Anting of the same. A black velvet belt
encircles the waist, and is fastened In front by a Ijge
gilt buckle. The cravat Is of scarlet velvet, worn over
the caps of the Chinese, and is used in India as a fiy
^
fiapper, under the name of Chourie.
We have seen mantles made of this lace in the prin-
cipal shops of New York and Philadelphia. Though a
woollen lace, it resembles Chantilly, aud is most beantl-
fully fine. We think the!=e mantles, though quite ex-
pensive, promise to be a favorite wrap.
White ca>hraore shawls and talmiiw, richly trimmed
with guipure lace, and ornamented with leaves, palm,
and medallions of lace, are among the richest styles to
be found at our French modistes.
209.) Many black silk wraps are ornamented with large
metal buttons, but we prefer those trimmed with black
buttitusand chenille frtnge.
Scarlet and bine cloaks continue the rage, and will b
foshionahle throughout the fall. Some of the prettiest
we have peen were from the establishment of Brodie, of
Canal Street. The very elegant onesareof a fine scarlet
cloth, with hoods lined with a quilted wbit silk o
satin. For children, however, we think flannel qnite aft
pretty and much less expensive.
288 godey's lady's book and magazine.

Another pretty fall wrap is a checked black and white ciently open to allow the white muslin, or lace chemi-
circle, with scarlet lined hood aud trimmings of scarlet. sette, to be visible underneath. Down the front of the
Uniformity of color is one of the principal character- skirt, and on the cor.-'age, were graduated fans of the ma-
istics of a fashionable toilet at the present day. la Paris, terial, tied with a black velvet ribbon in bows and ends.
ladies adopt one color for bonnet, mantle, dress, gloves, A novelty brought out by Mme. Demorest is the bonnet
boots, and parasol. Frequently, also, the petticoat is of protector; a covering made of a new waterproof mati>-
the same color. riul. It is very convenient for travelling, as a protector
As the dress for the street is generally looped up, it is against either dust or raia.
necessary that the j upon should be prettily ornamented. Suits for travelling are still made of elastic or Spanish
Buft", naukeen, gray, and violet are some of the favorite linen, a new material this season and very serviceable.
colors, and jean aud reps favorite materials, both it is Alpaca will be worn throughout the fall, as it is a
said washing well. With us the black and white pretty serviceable material, and susceptible of much
striped petticoats, with a brilliant bordering, are very ornamentation.
fashionable for travelling and ordinary wear. As some of our readers doubtless are economically in-
Our correspondent tells us that, in Paris, white petti- clined, we will describe two dresses which have lately
coats are only worn with thin dresses. In this country come under our notice. One was a violet silk, rather
it is different, for no matter how elegant the material or short in the skirt, aud being slightly spotted in the front
decorations of a colored bkirt, it is not considered suit- breadth. The skirt was cut off three inches from tho
able for a nice dress. The nei^st white skirts are braided edge, and muslin inserted to make it the proper length.
with a black woi'sted braid. There is a deep hem round Over this was a band
of black silk, with the edges cut
the edge, aud above it the braiding design is carried up in turrets, and finished with a black velvet with a
in pyramidal designs. Another style is to have a nar- white edge. A tablier of black silk half a yard wide at
row ou the edge of the skirt, trimlned and sewed
ruffle the bottom, gradually sloped up to the waist, and en-
on with a black braid. The ruffle should be fluted, and larged again to the shoulders. This was also cut iu
the effect is very pretty. turrets,and edged with the velvet. The sleeves were of
Very little fulness is worn round the hips. Crinoline the coat form, and trimmed with epaulettes aud cuffs.
is worn small, and both dress skirts aud petticoats Another dress was of black siik, with three flounces
should be slightly gored. on a very narrow skirt. Pointed pieces of black alpaca
A new skirt, Princess of Wales," is
chri.=!tened the ',' were inserted between each breadth. The wide flounces
made plain in an apron; a flounce, which
front like were cut into narrow ones, which were fluted, and
commences at the sides, is fulled on round the back, and arranged in pyramids upon the pieces of alapaca. Ono
a second flounce, quite on the edge, forms a train, and narrow flounce edged the skirt all round, and each
holds out the dress. This is said to be an excellent con- flounce was headed by a baud of cuir-colored braid.
trivance and already adopted by the Empress. Thus two quite stylish dresses were made out of compa-
A new style for silk dresses is to have the front ratively worthless ones.
breadth of a difl'erent color. For instance, a white silk Swiss bodies are still worn, but the greatest novelcy
crossed with black threads, has a front breadth of sea- is the Hussar sash, which describes a point in front,
green silk, sloped in the tablier style, and edged with and a sort ofbasque at the back. It is made of two
flutings of woollen lace aud ribbons. Instead of the colors, and the seams are studded with small round sil-
corsage buttoning up in the usual style, the latest mode ver, steel, or gilt buttons.
is to button it from the right side to the left shoulder. Hair cloth is now woven of different widths and
This is novel and pretty. colors, intended especially for the facing of drosses.

Princess cloth may be noticed among the new fabrics A new style of uet has been introduced. It U made of

of the fall season, which will undoubtedly be regarded hair the exact shade of the wearer's. It is netted over a

with favor. The original color is silver gray, a favorite fine mesh, which makes it almost invisible and very
shade with the Princess Alexandra. It is, however, durable.
made in all the new and fashionable colors. Elaborate coiffures still continue fashionable ; tho
A
very beautiful dress of this material was made re- principal styles being short frizzed curls, c7-ipe ban-

cently by Mme. Demorest, of 473 Broadway, whose dis- deaux, and rolls. JIany have adopted the Princess
tinguished ta.ste we have occasion so often to mention. Alexandra style of hair dressing. The hair is canieJ
The color of the material was the very lightest giay. off the temple A V Imptratrice, with two long ringlets

The skirt was made en trnine, and trimmed with bands
0/ velvet set ou in a waved border, severaj inches from
the bottom, aud extending up in a sort of pyramidal
fashion upon each breadth. The velvet bands were one
behind the ear, which fall on the neck. This is a simple
and pretty style. Another arrangement is to erect threo
rouleaux of hair, one above the other, at each side of tho
head to place bows or flowers in the centre, between
;

half inch wide, and edged with a narrow guipure lace. the roulemuT, and then to arrange bows of hair and
A trimming to match extended up the high body, which ringlets to fall low at the back. Black lace barbes,
was deeply pointed in front. At the back was a small trimmed with birds or flowers, are very much worn,
basque, formed of three pointed straps of velvet, the and when well arranged, form a charming coiffure.
centre one being longer than the others; these were Plaid or Tartan ribbons are coming in fashion, and
held together by buttons, and had a very pretty effect.
will be much employed both for the trimming of dresses
The sleeves were d Ul Condiy and trimmed to suit the and bonnets this fall.
oor.sage. The change in fashions is nearly always very gradual,
Another rich robe of silver mnir^, dotted with black, and this month it is not very decided. In another
was cut in small scallops all round the bottom of the month we shall have fairly entered on the autumn, and
skirt,and trimmed with a fluting of velvet. A sash, we shall be able to announce more positively in what
embroidered with jet beads, was tied at the side. The mould of faahioa the gratuXQ mondc will be cast.
corsage was scalloped down the front, and left suffi- Fashiob.
'
Q&D ('',
r'S fs .;!^ET(!M^iS,.
...
i
 THE LESSOX ON' THE FLAGEOLET.

VOL. Lxvii. 24 295



^ttllttttll Stplllill^
<OMPOSED AND ARRANGED FOE THE PIANO FOR OODEY's LADY's BOOK,

By GEORGE E. FAWCETT.

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 OCTOBER WALKING SUIT.

Dress of dark cuir-colored silk, with a fan trimming of black silk on the edsre of the sk'rt.
The
wrap is of black gros grains silk, made to fit the figure, and with coat sleeve.
It is richly braided with
the
narrow black velvet. The bonnet is of cair-colored silk, trimmed with black velvet and feathers ;

inside trimming is pink roses.

298
 OCTOBER WHAP.

Dress of violet poplin, trimmeil with black velvet and oroeliet trimming:. The
wrap i< of Wack
cloth,caocht np in the Spanisli stvle on the left shoulder, with a very elegant crochet ornament. The
bonnet is of violet velvet, trimmed with maave and violet ribbons, and flowers.
24* 299
 THE CORDOVAN.
[Prom the establishmeDi of G. Eeodie, 51 Canal Street, Kew York. Drawn by L. T. VoiUT, from actuHl
articles of custnme.]

We know no more beautiful style, especially for a lady of fine figure, than that depicted above,
made, as tliesubject from which our picture is taken, in velvet of the finest description, and
elaborately braided. The same mode is made in cloths, in which it appears to great advantage,
and, of course, with much less cost. J'itting so accurately, it displays the touniure most beau-
tifully.

300
 )A'.KO0 F.

S 2.

5 2.

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5. o

301
 NEW STYLES FOR CORSAGES.
(Front and Ijuch vieics,)

gtf' MOUSaUETAIRE BODY.

This jacket may be of the same material as the skirt, or else of a rich black silk. It can be braided
^ith cord, velvet, or braid. Tlie Zouave sleeves are slashed to the elbow, and kept in place by a lacing of
cords. The vest should be of silk, and of a color to contrast well with the jacket.

THE DAGMAR JACKET.

This jacket is made either of lace or muslin, and worn over a Garibaldi waist of some brisrht colored
silk. Our engraving represents a jacket woven in shape, but the same style can be very easily made up,
and will be quite as pretty.
302
 LADY'S PURSE.
(See description, Work department. )
304
 FANCY WATCH-CASE

.nll^l'i
"1 '",
T"^^";'' "="'' clnth with applications of black velvet
fold-colored eilk, and orn^ioented with jet and gold beads.
It ia richly braided and chaia-atitched
=..iv.ucu with

305
 BBAIBINO FATTEBN.

FANCY APRON, WITH POINTED GIELLE.

trimmed with different widths of fluted black yelvet and black wooUea la8.
Made of ouir-eolorcd silk, richly

30t>
 GODEY'S
f ah's ^ooli anb ^aga^iiR
rniLADELPHIA, OCTOBER, 1863.

LEAH MOORE'S TRIAL.

BT MABHKN HARLAXD.

[Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1S63, by Lorrs A. Godet, in the clerk's office of tb'? Di'^trict

Cuart of the United States, in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.]

In writing the history of the itiarried life of have been deemed onerous by many of twice
my very dear and lamented friend, Leah Moore, her years, and to this circumstance she pro-
I am moved, I trust, by no revengeful spirit bably owed her early maturity of mind and
towards the authors of her nnhappiness still ; manner. She was considered and described by
less am I actuated by any delusory hope that most people as prompt in judgment and self-
word or lesson of mine, he it conveyed directly reliant in an unusual degree. The few who
or under the guise of fiction, may succeed in Studied her more thoroughly, and arrived at a
exciting contrition in the bosom of the princi-
just conception of her character and the num-
pil agent in the evil work it is my task to por- ber of these was indeed small discovered, tu
tr.ty. I would do simple justice to one of the their surprise, that she possessed neither of
iiol)le3t hearts that ever loved and snffered these qualities, detected a diffidence with re-
wrong through that love ^justice denieil her gard to her own opinions, a trembling sensi-
by society and her own household, and which tiveness to the sentiments and tastes of those
I alone, of all living who knew her, can fully she esteemed and loved, seemingly at variance
set forth. Nor, I may say here, would I ever with her apparently ready decisions and reso-
have lifted my pen to the mournful undertak- lute action. She was strong-minded, without
ing had not Rumor, cruel and regardless of the being conceited or wedded to her conclusions ;

sinctity of the grave itself, been busy with independent, without a tincture of arrogance.
the name and story of her who has passed be- It is not the most tender hearts
those whose
yond reach of its attacks. Yet the tale has its structure ismost exquisite and delicate that
moral, and may not be spoken altogether in are, in popular parlance, "worn upon the
vain to some thoughtlessly-sinning lover of ad- sleeve." The tulip and rose, dahlia and holly-
miration some not quite wanton trifler with
: hock flaunt, expand, and glow upon the outer
another's happiness. border of the parterre, and invite the look and
It w.as not thought strange that Leah and I touch of passers-by. The violet and anemone
were intimate associates bosom friends at seek seclusion and shade. To her father, Leah
si-hool, although I was in my seventeenth, was a companion .and co-.adviser; to her sister and
when she reached her fourteenth Nobody
year. brothers, a judicious gu.ardian and tender nurse,
(tiled her a child, even then. She was tall for whose ste.ady, active kindness won
for her both
her age, with a womanly air, equally removed respect and but the invalid mother
affection ;

from formality and forwardness a diligent ; alone fathomed and .appreciated the wealth an I
."tudeut, an exemplary pupil in deportment, passionate earnestness of her innermost natur**.
and, as I can best testify, a deep-hearted friend. A year after I left school for my own hom
The eldest of four children, her mother's con- and friends, I received a letter from Leah, im-
firmed health h.ad early cast npon the devoted
ill parting the not-unexpected intelligence of thi>
daughter duties and responsibilities that would parent's death. The epistle was bciei; and in
VOL. LXVII. 25 30X


303 GODEY S LADY S BOOK: AND MAGAZIXE.

some There were no hackneyed

sort calm. we sat over our chamber fire, after our return
phrases of resignation
it would have been nn- from a small evening party, given expressly in
like her to employ snch no declamatory bursts
; her honor. " I wished I dared repeat to your
of grief or professions of inconsolable anguish ears some of the many compliments
to your
only one sentence, over which the hand had 'engaging your 'ready wit,' and
afiability,'

faltered one which, coming from most women, general brilliancy, which were confided to me
would have meant little more than met the by rapturous admirers at Mrs. Townes'."

eye that yet gave me a glimpse into the sor- " Do you intimate that the chrysalis of school
rowful depths of the veiled heart. " I cannot days has become a butterfly ?" she asked, co-
trust myself to attempt to tell even you, Maria, loring, yet with a brighter smile.
of my unutterable loneliness. Pray for me, " Or that the bird of Paradise has unfolded
that my strength fail not." her wings ?" returned I, in a like strain. " One
Strength That was her first, her abiding
! would say that yon had found the Fountain of
thought strength, to be expended for others'
! Life and Perpetual Youth, and drunk copiously
gODil ! therefrom."
I paid her a visit the ensuing winter, and "I have!"
found her serene, busy, outwardly cheerful ;
Her look was too earnest now for smiles, yet
the nominal, as she had been so long the vir- her face grew more radiant her eyes over- ;

tual, mistress and controller of her father's flowed with gladness. I gazed at her in dumb
establishment. In private, and to me, she was amaze, too stupid to read at once her meaning.
the stricken bird, pining ceaselessly for the " Here is the token that I have tasted drunk
warmth and shelter of the parent wing. Then abundantly of it !" She raised her hand, upon
passed six years, in which neither of us looked whose third finger sparkled a diamond, as it
upon the other's face. To her they brought were a crystallized drop of spray from the fabled
many and various cares ; the employments in- fount. " I have longed to tell you all about it,
cident upon her position as a housewife and a ever since I have been with yon. Will you let
daughter ; the cl.aims of society ; the occasional me do it now ?"
anxieties of sickness among the different mem- She sprang up extinguished the light, and,
;

bers of her family of all these her letters to sinking upon the cushion at my feet, wound
me treated ; none of them great or startling her arms about my waist, and in low, hesitating
events, yet all combined sufficing to keep her accents, that soon became full and melodious,
from the fulfilment of a long-cherished, oft- revealed the precious secret. I had heard the
attempted scheme of visiting me. To myself, name and something of the character and stand-
the same cycles were crowded with fate bore ;
ing of her betrothed before she mentioned him,
in their bosom orphanage, and another bereave- but never from her lips or in connection with
ment, whose shadow lay deeper and darker herself. Charles Moore was a young lawyer
than the deaths of father and mother selfish of talent and enterprise, for several years past
griefs, with which this narrative has nothing a resident of her native place. His fine abilities
I!
to do. and
in his profession, his personal attractions
At last, after an infinite deal of hope deferred social qualities had been favorably spoken of
and frustrated endeavor, Leah came to me. in my presence by more than one acquaintance
She was a tall, finely-proportioned woman of of his and my own, and I was thus prepared
two-and-twenty, with noble, thoughtful fea- for her description of the means by which he
tures ; a countenance that kindled into rare had won her. I took verbal exception to but
and sudden brightness animated speech, and in a single item of her portraiture.
took, in converse with such as she liked and "He is very unlike me!" she said, laugh-
loved, a winning gentleness, indescribably fas- ingly. " But I cannot say that I consider that
cinating, that suited well the softened, sweeter an imperfection."
modiilations of her voice. She speedily made "/do," rejoined I, bluntly. "What con-
herself popular in our quiet inland town, and stitutes this dissimilarity, may I ask?"
in the dwelling, now inhabited only by my " You your mind when yon hear.
will ch.ange
widower brother and myself, the remnant of a He is temperament as I am de-
as sanguine of
numerous and happy household, she was a per- spondent charitable in judgment where I
;

petual solace and delight. would be censorious gentle and forbearing

;

" You have grown younger, instead of older, when I would, in like circumstances, be cap-
with the passage of time, Leah more joyous, tious and severe with *ny best friends frank ;

rather than graver," I remarked one night, as and enthusiastic, while I am reserved and cal-
 " ;

LEAH MOORE S TRIAL. 309

cuiating. Ah, Maria when you see and knoir

! father was to reside with Leah and her hus-
liim, you will acknowledge what I confess band.
lioiirlv to myself thatgood and he is far too " It is a sunny picture I" she said, mnsingly.
noble for poor faulty me
wonder with me ; will
" Indeed, Maria" lifting her face, whose ex-
at the strange taste
the only instance of bad pression of perfect trust and happiness I could
taste I ever observed in him by the way that discern even in the uncertain fire-light "my
beguiled him into selecting me as his lifelong love has been cloudless from its dawn until
companion." now. We have had no rough seas, no storms.
" Never were he the immaculate conception
I It is all sunshine."
of all the virtues and graces you have enumer- Was for me to cast a shadow of doubt or
it

ated!" I asserted, obstinately. misgiving upon the heaven of this joyous con-
She shook her head, with a confident smile. fidence
this blissful serenity of love which
"Again I say, only wait and see I am striv- I comes to so few souls, unshadowed by sad
ing to adapt myself to his wishes to what I memories or sadder forebodings ? I hoped with
know he would like, although he has never and prayed for her.
suggested, however remotely, a criticism of The marjiage took place at the appointed
what I now am time, and I went, summoned by the bride^o
" I should think not, indeed !" interrupted I, pass the fortnight preceding the ceremony with
impatient of this uncalled-for humility, which, her. Upon the evening of my arrival I was
I could yet see, was unfeigned. "I should presented to the bridegroom exjiectant. De-
dislike him on the spot, witlihold my consent, spite my preconceived intention to criticize
which, of course, is indispensable to the con- narrowly, and, if needful, condemn unsparingly,
summation of the contract, were he to attempt he conquered prejudice and disarmed censure
any such remoulding process." in the course of a single interview. He was a
" There is no danger He is as blind to my! fine-looking fellow, six feet tall, with black hair
imperfections as another too partial friend, not and eyes his physiognomy indicative at once
;

a hundred miles away generosity that incites

; of intellect and amiability, and his frank, courte-
me to renewed watchfulness and endeavor after ous bearing bespoke him, in heart as in demea-
conformity to tlie right standard. I am con- nor, the thoroughbred gentleman. But his
scious of my deficiencies, although he may be principal passport to my favor was not in these
ignorant of them. God knows how constant external advantages, or in the flattering interest
and fervent is my prayer that I may make him he exhibited in myself. It consisted in his
as happy as he deserves to be. H the power is silent yet expressive devotion to the object of
denied me, I shall find death very sweet 1" his heart's choice ; his unobtrusive watchful-
It was unfair, while it was not perhaps unna- ness of her every motion ; the respectful atten-
tural, that I should from this conversation con- tion lent to her slightest word ; his manifest
ceive a faiut and secret prejudice against the pride in, and admiration of her.
much-lauded lover, which the encomiums of his " I him fully as much as you can de-
like !

liancee could not remove. My impulses were sire !" was my report to Leah wlien she came
strong, my conclusions quickly established to tomy room after his departure, anxious to gather
ray own satisfaction, and, as may be supposed, I my impressions of the hero of her drama. " My
often erred iu both. my dearest friend
Leah was mind is quite at rest since I have seen yon to-
and, if not absolutely faultless in my eyes, occu- gether. He is one iu a thousand, for he appre-
pied too lofty a stand in my regard, was too far ciates you."
superior to the ordinary run of women, for me to " Overrates, you should say My great fear !

entertain, with tolerance, the thought of this is lest he should awake some day."

stranger, who, I doubted not, had fifty foibles Which fear had no place in my visions of
to her one, suggesting amendments in disposi- their united lives.
tion and manner: remodelling, where he should I was her gave her up to
first btidemaid ;

have rendered only delighted approval. I said him not was not heroine enough for
gladly ; I

nothing of this discontent, however, while she

that still withoutan envious murmur at his
went on with the details of their present plans happiness or a prophetic thought of evil for
and painted their hopeful Future. Her sister, her. Providence so said the horoscope cast
Pauline, two years her junior, was to be mar- for her by my loving imagination had decreed
ried at the eame time with herself to a gentle- to her a lot rich in life's choicest blessings. So
m.nn from the far W*t. The brothers, now far as mortal could judge, she deserved the gift,

Almost young men, wwe in college, and the and I felt assured would make right use of it.
310 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINI

Our correspondence was continued regularly late been sustained with her accustomed spirit.
after her marriage au instance of friendship's The intervals of silence had been of greater
tidelity tliatwould have surprised me in any length, her communications shorter, and, I fan-
other of my whilomeschool-fellows which was cied, less free and candid than of yore. There
so in keeping with Leah's character and con- was no diminution of regard for me implied by
duct, that it awoke no wonderment. Now and these alterations. Of this I was assured in so
then her letters had, as an appendix, a note many words by herself, and I rested implicitly
from Mr. Moore, often lively, always kind. He upon her assertion. She had never expressed
seemed to desire me
understand how heartily
to herself more warmly with respect to this point
he indorsed our intimacy, and certainly suc- than in her latest epistle, an answer to mine
ceeded, by so doing, in showing me how fully settling the time of my arrival. Her health
he entered into all that gave his wife pleasure. would not allow her to go mucli into society
They had been married but half a year when this winter, she wrote her husband's increas-
;

there came a black-sealed letter, not only super- him away from
ing practice frequently called
scribed, but written wholly by him, informing home days together. I could and
for several

me of the death of Leah's father. would do her good by coming she lonijed for ;

Lwas wounded that she had not herself

not me, and could not brook further disappoint-
communicated with me at her mother's decease, ment.
which was, from the very nature of her circum- " I had not supposed that any amount of
stances at that period, and the peculiar alTection bodily weakness could make her nervous or
existing between parent and child, a heavier low-spirited," I said to myself, in ruminating
stroke than this, understood and admitted the upon these signs of the times. " And if it has,
excuse her husband made for her silence, viz., Mr. Moore's temperament better fits him to be-
that she was too "much overcome by her grief come a restorative than does mine. It is grati-
to undertake even this trilling exertion." There fying to one's vanity to be thus importuned ;

existed no longer the necessity for stern self- but I hope Leah does not pine for me while he
control, calmness and vigorous
for resolute is at home. He is grievously in fault if she
action that had nerved her upon the former does."
occasion. Sorrowful she might be and doubt- A sombre meditation upon man's wayward-
less was, but lonely-hearted and self-dependent ness and selfish absorption in worldly cares and
no more. There is sweetness in the woe that business profits was seasonably interrupted by
is wept out upon a stronger and a sympathiz- our stopping at the depot, in the busy and
ing heart. It is solitary and unshared anguish thriving town which was the terminus of the
that blights and kills. Leah's womanhood grew railway.
richer and fuller beneath the cloud. True, My foot had barely touched the platform
I could only trace the change by means of her when my hands were seized in a fervent grasp ;

letters, hut these were frequent and long, and Leah's voice was bidding me a joyous welcome,
with her, the pen was a more ready and eloquent and Leah's face the dear, old familiar features
vehicle of thought and feeling than the tongue.
and smile was looking full into mine. Gloom
Two more years went swiftly by, and by the and saddening fancies fled apace at sound and
mysterious sort of fatality that had already kept sight of these. Flushed and e.ager, she drew
us so often asunder, when we earnestly desired me out of the noisy crowd towards a pretty,
and persistently sought the society of one an- stylish carriage standing near, seated me there-
other, we had met for a single hour. As
not in, demanded my checks, and sent them off by
the third winter of her wedded life approached, the servant before I could utter more than a
she redoubled her solicitations for my company, word of greeting. It was this never-failing pre-
.ind making an extraordinary effort, I conquered sence of mind this energetic mode of action
fate itself, and set out upon the long-contem- that gained for her the reputation of coolness
]ilated trip. The distance jvas not formidable, and independence. To me it was very delight-
the route direct, and I encountered no difficul- ful, for it was characteristic of her, and her
ties by the way. It was a raw, disagreeable alone. My first connected sentence was one of
afternoon, threatening an easterly storm, when expostulation. M
I found myself near my journey's end, and "You should not have come out this damp HI
my musings, insensibly to myself, at first took evening. I could have found my way to your
the line of the sky and atmosphere. I dwelt house without subjecting you to this needless
perversely, and especially upon the idea that risk."
Leah's part otgfiur correspondence Lad not of " As if I would allow that ! Charles is not
 LEAH MOOKE'S TRIAL. 311

iu town is off upon one of liis stopid coart

; he friendly embrace, lighted his cigar, and entered
circaits, or he wonld have robbed me of the upon a genuine old-fashioned fireside chat. He
pleasure of meeting you. As to risk, that is is eminently domestic in his tastes, appreciates
all nonsense. There is nothing in such weather these 'small, sweet courtesies' of home-life,
as this that can harm a well person, and to-day and is so grateful for each and all of them that
I am in unusually fine spirits and health." I would be very unkind were I to omit them.

She looked well and bright. I noticed this And while we are speaking of him" as if her
more particularly when she came to my room tongue were liable to wander to any other
to see if I needed any Assistance in making theme "while we are speaking of hiui, I must
my toilet for the evemng. I was already not forget to deliver his message to you." She
dressed, and was still half an hour to
there drew a letter from hef^pocket, handling it very
spare before tea-time.She had laid aside her carefully one would have said tenderly. " I
hat and cloak her eyes were full of happy
; only received this to-day. It is not so long as

light her cheeks almost rosy. I was half

; are mine to him ; but its superiority in quality
angry at and quite ashamed of my ridiculous overbalances th.at shortcoming. He is engaged
imaginings concerning her nnhappiness. iu ai^Kportant and tedious suit in L ,

"This," she said, unclosing the door of an and has not a minute that he can call his own.
apartment that adjoined mine upon oue side, This was dashed off in the court-room. Poor
and her chamber on the other, " is my snug- ' fellow but he knew how anxious and disap-
!

gery' our family sitting-room. When I have pointed I would be if he did not write. He
stranger guests, it is my custom to keep this says :I shall think of you and Maria on Wed-
'

door of communication locked. You will always nesd.ay night shall sympathize with my whole
;

be welcome in the sanctum. We shall have heart in your happiness at the reunion with
many long delicious talks together here, morn- your old and tried friend. Tell her how sin-
ing, noon, and night. I have hoped for them cerely I regret my in>ability to join with yon in
hungrily This is your chair. It has been
I her reception, and how great will be my pleas-

ready for you yawning vacantly to receive ure at meeting her at last in our own home.
you for two months, you naughty girl Try it !" ! Do not be so well satisfied with her society.^
She forced me gently down into a low lounging- to anticipate my arrival
on Thursday with dis-
cbair beside the cheerful fire, and took another taste.' The
you would not care to hear."
rest
close by for herself. I pronounced the elastic She broke off, laughing and blushing.
cushions only too luxurious, and thanked her "You would not care to read aloud, yon
for this proof of kindly affection. mean He would not have written that last
!

" I need not ask who is the proprietor of saucy sentence, had he not felt very sure bow
that!" I continued, pointing to a larger and unnecessary was the caution. You are a happy
taller/<i(eHi7 shrouded in gray linen. womjin, Leah, in having your husband in love
" It is Charles' especial resting-place. No with you so long after the wedding-day 1"
one sits in it while he is away, aud it is uever Was it another of my absurd fancies, or did
covered when he is in town. I worked it my- a slight sp.asmof pain shoot across her features
self,and would have done the upholstering, if her eye grow momentarily dim f Whatever
I had known bow." She removed the cover it was, it was gone in a second.

and displayed the rich aud elaborate embroid- " You are right ! The lines of my life have
ery of the seat, arms, and back. "The foot- fallen in pleasant places. My joys are real and
stool matches it, you perceive." abiding my sorrows, the phantoms of my un-
"And you can find time for fancy-work amid disciplined imagination. I shame to own it,

M your serious duties!" I exclaimed. "It Maria, but am

wickedly unreasonable, fool-
I

must have taken months to complete that." ishly exacting .at times, even with Charles. I am
" It consumed only the spare moments of a trying to overcome this unworthy propensity ;

few weeks scraps of leisure that would other- to bear in mind that every man in his position
wise have been wasted. I should have felt and with his temperament, has other claimants
.imply compensated for years of labor by the upon his time and thoughts besides his wife,
sight of Charles' surprise and pleasure at the let her be ever so dear. It is one of my failings
unexpected have enjoyed few happier
gift. I that I want to be everything or nothing to
moments that those I tasted upon the Christmas him!"

evening a stormy one when, arrayed in the "The wife of a distinguished literary man,
dressing-gown and slippers that accompanied who was a most affectionate husband withal,
the chair, he first en=conced himself within its once confessed to me that, during the twenty
23*
312 godey's lady's book and magazine.

years of her otherwise happy married life, she to the ordinary courtesies of the meal, but it

been at sotae seasons the victim of violent

liad was evidently the taciturnity of indolence or
and angry jealousy. Her rival was one not nonchalance, not of diffidence. Indeed the im-
easily gotten rid and seductive as obstinate.
of, pression upon my mind by her countenance
left

It was her husband's library, " was my response. and demeanor was that of very cool self-satis-
"Good! I must tell that to Charles! He faction and self-possession, diametrically op-
has a sort of study a '
den,' he calls it in the posed to anything like timid or bashful reserve.
third story,where even I am not welcome at I conceived the notion then that she could talk

certain hours. I somgtwPes fairly detest the well and fluenUg'if sjjfeonsidered it worth her
tobacco-scented, bookiljttered place. He always while to make Uret^j^Stion.
reminds me of Robi^^SpfUsoe and his inner Upou leaving tlie>Supper-roora, Leah ad-
rave, when he witharaws tothis retreat. I tell dressed her more rt^tely than cordially. "It
him that be would pull the staircase up after is hea^ly that we shall hardly be
raining so
him if he could, as Robinson used to do his lad- interrupted by company this evening. Miss
der, so great is his dread of intruders.^ Allison and myself will spend it in the sitting-
Just then I heard the sound of the "pi^^^rom room up stairs. Will you join us ?"
the parlors below, a fashionable variationof a " No, I thank you, Cousin Leah This wet I

popular air, well and boldly played. night is a genuine godsend to nie. I shall
" You have company, then ?" I said. practise steadily until bed-time. I am ashamed
Leah looked annoyed, although she tried not to say that I have not learned nearly all the
to let this appear. new music which Cousin Charles kindly gave
"Only Jaiietta
Dalrymple a cousin of Mr. me to cheer my lonely hours while he should
Moore's, who is passing the winter here." be away. He will think me sadly ungrateful,
" You have not mentioned her in your letters, will scold me roundly, I am afraid."
I think." Leah hit her lip and led the way up stairs.
She paid no attention to the remark. We were hardly seated when the piano broke
"She has been with us nearly three months. out into brilliant music. With a movement
Her mother died a year and a half ago, and her like a shiver of petulance or disgust, Leah rang
father was married again in six months to a the bell.
young, giddy girl. .Tanetta's home being thus "Catherine!" she ordered the servant who
rendered exceedingly unpleasant, after a great answered it, "go down and close the parlor
deal of uncomfortable feeling upon both sides, doors softly, so as not to disturb Miss Dalrymple.
she left it and went to live with her
married Do it without attracting her attention, if you
brother. Ills wife died last September, and he can."
went abroad almost immediately, committing The girl performed her errand faithfully, for
Janetta to our care until he should return. the miisic, muffled by the closed doors, poured
Brother and sister are the only children of on in a continuous stream, as though the per-
Charles' favorite cousin a lady who was a former had neither stirred nor looked away from
second mother to him in bis boyhood, and he her notes.
is naturally desirous to testify his grateful re- " Now, we can talk in something like com-
collection of her kindness by doing all that lies Leah ejaculated, drawing her chair nearer
fort !"

in his power to serve the surviving members to me and the fire.

of her family. Have you observed that por- She had never been more than a tolerable
trait?" musician, neither her ear nor her touch being
It was an excellent likeness of her father, very good but I knew that since her marriage
;

hung upon the opposite wall over ag,Tinst my she had striven to cultivate her taste and in-
chair. I arose to examine it, and, if she de- crease her skill in the accomplishment to please
sired to prevent further inrjuiries respecting her husband, who was a passionate lover of the
her husband's relatives, her end was gained. art, and devoted to its practice. Ignorant that
I did not give Miss Dalrymple another remark I was trenching upon a delicate subject, I said :

or thought until we met at the tea-table.
She was shorter than Leah, reaching scarcely
to tlie shoulder of the latter plump and fair-;
skinned, neither pretty nor yet plain an unre-
markable-looking girl at first sight, and dressed
rather carelessly in deep mourning. She said
little while we were at supper, merely replying
"Have you paid much attention to music
lately? You should be a proficient by this
time, having proved yourself to be an excep-
; tion in this respect, as in the matter of embroid-
ery, to the generality of married ladies. Both
occupations are with you a labor of love both
pursued with an object."

I
 "

LEAH MOORE'S TRIAL. 313

"I rarely play now," she rejoiueil, gravely. delayed five minutes beyond its time. " Hark !

" I am uot strong enough to attempt very dili- I hear wheels I" She raised her finger and
gent practice. Janett.i is a better performer listened.
than I, and I have given tliis part of Charles' They came ncirer and nearer, and, as they
tiUtertuinment over to her." stopped in front of the honse, she glided swiftly
If pr.iclice makes perfect, Miss Dalrymple and joyously into the liall. I sat still in the
might well be the unrivalled mistress of the back-parlor, knowing that the meeting would
liiiger-board. We talked until the small hours be robbed of half its sweetness by tlie presence
were upon the midnight, and she played all
in of lookers-on,' however friendly. I was, there-
the while, with no more interruption than was fore, not too well pleased when Miss Dairy mple's
necessary in laying down one piece of music voice made itself heard most loudly in the little

and taking up another. I'ceased to marvel at bustle of greeting, and surprised at seeing her
Leah's nervousness at the commencement of enter the room with her cousins, equipped in
the performance. If this were the order of ex- hat, cloak, and furs, and glowing from the cold
ercises to be observed upon every rainy evening, air oftheiaiuy outer night.
I should certainly put up my petitions for a dry "James was my only accomplice," she was
winter. saying, in high glee. " I stole down to tha
stable while he w.a3 getting the carriage ready
to go to the depot, and offered myself as inside
passenger. I knew that I should be refused
CHAPTER II.
permission if I applied to head-quarters. Don't
Mr. Moore was expected home in the evening look so serious. Cousin Leah, please I The
train, on the day succeeding my arrival, and rain didn't hurt me one bit, and, after all, it is

long before the hour of his coming the house not much more stormy than it was last night,
wore a holiday aspect. It was hard to define when you drove down yourself to meet Miss
the precise features of the cliauge that had Allison. W.a3 I very wicked, Cousin Charles ?

come over the premises, for all had been neat, I did want to see you so badly !

and fresh, and tasteful before. Leah was a model "Nonsense, child Who thinks of scolding
I

housewife, taking great pride and ple.isure in you V Mr. Moore had welcomed me with cor-
all that appertained to this office, and as she dial grace, and now turned to the questioner,
passed from room to room, rearranging furni- who had fastened herself upon his arm. " And
ture, polishing a glass here, and adding a flower, yet I am not sure that you do not merit a whip-
or other trilling decoration there, she appeared ping for exposing yourself upon this inclement
to scatter light and bloom from her own counte- night. Let me see, are you wet?" touching
nance ; sung at her work as blithely as any her cloak. " Indeed, Nettie dear, this is not
bird. Dusk found her in the handsomely fur- safe Your clothing is very damp. Run away
!

nished parlors, illuminated as for a host of and change it. Had you rubbers on ?"
visitors. " Charles has a horror of gloomy Janetta put out a pretty little foot, smiling
rooms !" she explained, as she kindled another wilfully. was covered by a thin-soled gaiter.
It
burner in the chandelier. " He is too cheerful " Was there ever such another imprudent
himself to like darkness or an uncertain light." creature !" exclaimed her cousin, frowning.
She had laid off mourning for her father. " Is there a fire in your room ?"
" Charles never liked to see her wear black ; it " No the register heats it sufficiently for a
;

was sombre for her complexion." Her dress

too warm-blooded animal like myself."
to-night was one which, she proudly informed " Leah, ray love, cannot one be kindled there
me, was his choice and gift, a bronze-colored silk, at once ? It is dangerous for her feet to remain

heavy yet soft in texture, and relieved at throat in this state Those contemptible little shoes
!

and wrists by crimson velvet ribbons. The must be soaked, in only crossing the sidewalk.
laces of her collar and undersleeves were daintily The pavements are flooded. Merely changing
fine ; her headdress, lappets of black lace, her gaiters will not do. Her feet should be well
'picked out" to use a technical term with heated besides."
crimsoQ in the crown-piece, became her admir- "J.anettahad best get on dry stockings and
ably. She looked and moved the dignified, slippers, and go down to the kitchen fire,"
comely matron, the happy wife. Again and Leah returned, coldly. " I cannot spare Cathe-
again her watch was consulted as the important rine at present to light another in her chamber."

hour drew on impatience that, it was evident, "There no need!
is I had forgotten the
would grow into uneasiness if the train were sitting-room grate. Be off, you madcap Put I
 ;

314 godey's lady's book and magazine.

on other foot-gear and hurry down to the " I thought that I was the laggard so impor-
fire."
^ tunately summoned," said I, as she glanced up
Jauetta made him a low courtesy, and danced nervously.
away, singing: She forced a smile. " Oh no take a seat I 1

"Oh, Willie, we have missed yon,
Welcome, welcome liomel"
" It is pleasant to be at home again 1" said
Mr. Moore, looking fondly down at his wife.
"And how have you been, love?
looking uncommonly well."
" I am very well, thank you I" was the reply,
in a quiet tone. "Will you go up to your
room now ? Supper will soon be ready."
I saw him encircle her waist with his arm. as
The others must be in presently. Catherine,
you had better go up and tell Mr. Moore that
we are waiting. The oysters and steak will be
spoiled. Perhaps he did not hear the bell."
You are Several minutes more passed in uneasy silence,
and Miss Jauetta's high, gay tones were heard
tipon the staircase and along the passage. She
entered, hanging upon Mr. Moore's arm, after a
fashion she particularly affected with him, both
hands clasped over her support, and face up-

they passed into the hall together. turned, as a sunflower turns its disk to the sun.
He was undoubtedly an affectionate husband, "Cousin Leah, I am afraid we have sinned
and, so far as I was able to judge, worthy of unpardonably at last. The truth is we were so
the love she lavished upon him yet I was ;
busy talking that we did not notice the bell*
provoked by the farce I had just witnessed. If Cousin Charles has been away so long that I
the "child" and " madcap" who was by the had a thousand things to tell him and to hear.
way twenty-three years of age, Leah had told And after Catherine called us, he was in the
me if the " imprudent creature" chose to im- midst of such an interesting story that we
peril her health and sacrifice her comfort to the really forgot lier and supper. Do forgive us
whim meeting her favorite kinsman ten
of this once, you dear angel of punctuality 1"

minutes than she would have done, had

earlier Leah said nothing, and Mr. Moore looked
she stayed at home like a sensible woman, surprisedly at her grave face. Janetta hung
Leah's practical suggestion was all the notice her head as if abashed, and there was an awk-
her folly deserved. For my part, I could have w.aid pause, broken at length, awkwardly, too,

boxed her ears soundly for her officiousness, in I doubt not, by a question from myself to the

the first place in cheating the waiting wife of gentleman of the party, concerning his late trip.
her right of receiving the earliest greeting, and He took up the thread I threw out with alac-
for her ridiculous trifling afterwards the sen- rity. He was a rarely agreeable man in con-
sation she had created, engrossing hira so com- versation, sprightly and sensible, with much
pletely th.at he had not had an opportunity to ready humor, as well as fine feeling. The talk
inquire after Lah's health until the vital sub- was kept up with considerable spirit between
ject of the wet shoes was disposed of. Nor did us two until Miss Dalrymple rallied from her
I relish the thought of her intrusion upon the embarrassment, real or feigned, and Leah had
twain in the cozy "snuggery," wliither I knew fought successfully her fit of displeasure or dis-

that Leah would repair with her husband so content. Janetta h.td made a becoming toilet

soon as the needful changes were made in his in a marvellously short space of time one that
travelliug-dress. After a separation of more offered a striking contrast to the dishabille of
than a fortnight, it seemed but fair that they the previous evening. Her hair waved in a
should be allowed five minutes undisturbed cloud of ringlets, crisp and smooth, despite the
tete-d-tete* unfavorabledampuessof the air and her black ;

In these circumstances I was glad that the silk dress, with bands of crape, made her
its

supper-bell rang promptly at the usual hour.
Itwas not responded to at once, it appeared
fora second and sharper summons soon tingled
through the hall. Thinking it possible that I
might be the delinquent, and that I was sup-
posed to be in my chamber, instead of awaiting
the arrival of the others where they had left
me, I repaired to the dining-room. Leah only
was there, arranging cups and saucers upon
skin seem transparently clear and white. She
wore short sleeves a favorite custom with fine
pianists, I
have remarked and her arms showed
round and fair against her dress. She had a
good color, and as she gradually brightened up
under the influence of her cousin's lively chat,
she looked really very pretty. Her coming out
from under the shadow of Leah's disapproba-
tion was adroitly managed her appealing, ;

tlie tea-board before her, with flnshed cheeks deprecatory tone and expression as she ven-
aad brow slightly contracted in pain or impa- tured, after an interval of cowed silence, to

tience. address the mistress of the house ; her obvious

 LEAH MOORE S TRIAL. 315

anxiety to show her everv attention that she luxuriance of his locks, he would have come
could contrive, and the shy, child-like question- home to me a shorn lamb."
ing glance from time to time at Mr. Moore, as " Miss Dalrymple 1" I h.ad to call twice, the
asking his countenance and advice, were won- piano by this t\me forlissimo. "Excuse me
derful and interesting to behoM, even while I for interrupting you, but do come and look at
bad bat a glimmering consciousness of their this beautiful ija^e d'umvur
! This is not much
intent. like an almost three-year-old husband, is it ?"
When we arose from the fable, Mr. Moore She could not, in decency, refuse to obey the
allowed his cousin and myself to precede him summons, or I believe she would have done so,
to the parlors, and tarried behind to speak with but she drew near slowly, and surveyed the
his wife. Miss Janetta's liveliness vanished jewelry with a curling lip. "They are hand-
rapidly as minute after minute went by with- some!" she said, after a momentary examina-
out their reappearance. She pretended to peruse tion, giving back to Leah the casket I had laid

the evening papers, skimmed a column in each, in her unwilling hand. "I congratulate you
threw them down, and walked to the window, upon the valuable acquisition to your jewel-
drummed a polka with her fingers upon the case."
sash, y.iwned, sighed, and sauntered back to Anything more dryly frigid than her voice
the centre-table where I sat, sewing. and manner, it is impossible to imagine. Her
" I wish Charles would come in I am dying ! affectation of regarding the intrinsic worth of
to hear the rest of the story he began before the ornaments as their only claim to the reci-
supper." pient's notice, was inimitable.
"He is with Mrs. Moore, I suppose," I an- " Is the girl obtuse or malicious, or meanly
swered. and preposterously envious ?" I speculated, iu
"Oh! of course! and there is no knowing inward indignation.
when they will get through their affectionate Leah smiled contemptuously, and beg.au try-
coufalmlatiou. Why is it that .ill m.irried people ing the bracelet upon her arm.
are selfish, I wonder?" "Was there ever a better fit?" she said, as
" Perhaps because they have a better right her husband came in.

than others to the monopoly of the society of "There nothing miraculous iu that!
is

those whom they love best." Yon speak as if I were not expected to know
I made the observation very innocently, in the precise size of your arm by this time. You
fact, thoughtlessly, supposing her to be more do not understand the clasp, I see. Let nje
in jest than in earnest, but chancing to raise fasten it."
my head as I said it, I was startled at the strange He shut the spring ; raised the hand adorned
change in Miss Dalrymple's countenance. An- by his gift to his lips, half in mock gallantry,
ger, scorn, inquiry glared a second upon me for half in real affection, and while Leah stood
from eyes I had not thought capable of such smiling and blushing, like a maiden receiving
intense expression. It was suppressed before her first love-pledge, he removed the pin she
I could quite credit the evidence of my own wore from her collar and substituted the new
senses, and saying carelessly: "Perhaps so; brooch, then detached the gold chain from her
but it is in very bad taste, to say the least of watch and hung the hair one in its place.
it." She tossed her head and went to the " Now that you are arrayed to my satisfac-
piano. tion, if not to your own, your ladyship must
She had played for fifteen or twenty minutes tell me wh.at you think of a trifie I have in my
when Leah entered alone. All trace of un- pocket for Nettie. Nettie, child I"
pleasant feeling h,ad passed from her sparkling She had feigned not to see or hear anything
face. In her hand was a small box, or morocco of the little love-scenewhich had just tran-
case, which she held towards me, with a proud spired, and now threw him a glance over her
smile. " Would you like to see my present?" shoulder still seated upon the piano-stool,
It consisted of bracelet, brooch, and watch- striking aimless,random chords upon the in-
chain, exquisitely manufactured of dark hair, strument. He had to go to her, for she did not
linked and banded with gold ; each article offer to move. Opening a rase, similar in ap-
marked " C. H. M. to L. M." pearance to Leah's, he displayed a set of ji-t

" It is his own hair, I suppose ?" I said, ad- orn,aments which I saw, at a glimpse, were far
miringly. more costly than the hair trinkets.
" Certainly and therein lies the charm of the
!
" Not for me !" she ejaculated, when he put
gift. If he were not a very Absalom in the them into her lap.
 "

316 GODEY S LADY S BOOTC AXI) MAGAZIXE.

" Why not for '

me !' " rejoined he, smiling of good conduct and diligent application to her
at her incredulous, startled air. studies !' That was the way my school-prizes

" Because because nobody ever thinks of used to be labelled," laughed the young lady,
doing suoh things There for me, now-a-days ! going back to the piano.
was a time "
She burst into tears. Mr. Moore made a brief apology to Leah and
Much moved by her distress, Mr. Moore laid myself; begged that we would not allow the
his hand upon her bowed head. music to be any bar to our conversation, and
"There, dear! Think of the true friends followed flute-case in hand.
who are still spared to you ! Why, Nettie, I While tlie performances went on we sat by
shallesteem myself a cruel bungler if you are the table, busy with our needles, and, contrary
so overcome by such a trivial token of my to his injunction, were silent, more through
affection." disinclination to speech, than any scruples of
"You cruel! you, the kindest, best, most politeness.
generous of men !"
catching his hand and It was no hardship for me to remain a mute
pressing it first to her heart then to her lips. " I listener so far as my individual self was con-
should be ungrateful, indeed, were I to refuse cerned, for Miss Dalrymple played remarkably
toacknowledge and value your goodness For- ! well, and Mr. Moore was a flutist of no mean
give me. Cousin Leah I know you must ! ability still, I could not recollect that I had
;

despise me for my weakness that I am a silly ever enjoyed an entertainment of this kind less.
baby in your sight, but 1 was so astonished If this were a specimen of the Moores' usual
and so pleased evenings at home, it was not a matter of sur-

"And so tearful," interposed Mr. Moore, prise that Leah should often be lonely, and
" that you have not given my poor toy a second sigh for some friend or companion of her own.
look." To the gentle-hearted Griselda, held up for the
He took up a bracelet. She extended a admiration and imitation of wedded dames, by
plump white arm, and smiled an entreaty the model tales and essays of man's and spin-
through her tears. He responded by clasping sters' composing, it would have been an easy
the jet circlets there w.%s a pair of tliem upon cross if it deserved to be called a cross at all
her wrists, dropping upon one knee to elTect this open neglect of herself and marked pre-
this. The pin he would have let her settle ference for the society of another upon the
herself upon her bosom, but there was some evening of the reunion, to which she had looked
trouble about the catch, and when she had forward with eager desire for more than two
worked away at it for a moment he h.ad to come long weeks. But Leah was no Oriselda. She
to the rescue. Lastly, he suspended tlie ear- was a loving, and because a devoted, an ex-
rings from the pink lobes of her small ears, acting wife. Her husband was the sun of her
and she ran to the mirror with a show of childish world, and she demanded equal constancy in
delight that highly amused and pleased the him. I did not imagine then, nor do I really
donor. believe, now, that he was inconstant, even in
"What a monkey you are !" he said, tap- thought, to the matchless woman he had freely
ping her cheek, as she stood gazing up at him, chosen to be his life's helpmeet but I did ;

her eyes hardly dry, while her feivtures were think him strangely, if not selfishly thought-
wreatlied with grateful, loving smiles. " One less, and ridiculously fond of the fussy little
would think that I had done you some mighty piece of cousinsliip, who was so crazy about

service saved your life, or something of equal him. There is no accounting for tastes, espe-
importance." cially a man's tastes, but I could uot see how
"I wish I could thank you," she returned, he could do more than barely tolerate the
with passionate earnestness. "Only tell me companionship of this girl when he contrasted
how I may, in some way, prove my gratitude her with his truly dignified and fascinating
for your constant benefits to a poor, homeless partner.
orphan." Musing thus, I looked across the table at
" By being a happy girl! That is all; un- Leah. Her work had fallen to her knees her ;

less it be by showing that you have been an hands were folded above it, and her regards
obedient one during my absence. How about were bent upon the pair at the piano. The
that formidable batch of new music ? If you gaze of weary wretchedness thrilled and ap- K
have learned it all, I have a further supply for palled me, so fixed and despairing was it, and to ^
you in my trunk." me so unexpected. Strong-minded and clear-
" For Miss Janetta Dalrymple the reward
'
judging woman that she was, she must have
 LEAH MOORE'S TRIAL. 817

suOnrHJ inuL'li, aud that not without cau^e, Miss Jauetta, turning the leaves of her music-
before j'ielding to the conviction tli.it, it n'.td folio.

plain, now possessed her Never iu my

soul. " She looked very ill. She is snhject to these
life before had 1 hated any one with tlie energy attacks in the evening, she s.iys. What do you
that, at that instant, moved my soul against do her at such times?"
for
Jauetta Dalrymple, and almost as heartily I "// She never complains in my hearing,
despised the vanity or undue partiality of him except of being tired and sleepy but I thought ;

who thus consulted and ministered to her vaga- that was to be expected" with a disagreeable
riesand sentimental impulses, instead of watch- smile. " Moreover, she does not f.incy my
ing aud always the deeper, more even cur-
first music very much, I imagine, and would be
rent of the mighty flood ever flowing tow-irds |
glad of any pretext for interrupting it."
him, and him alone, fiom his wife's true, noble "Would it not be more kind, if that is the
heart. case, to deny yourself the gratification of prac-
mast liave made some involuntary gesture
I tising so much in her presence?" I was pro-
ofhand or head, for Leah turned suddenly and voked into saying.
caught my eye. She grew deathly pale, and The girl's impertinent tone, and total disre-
drew her breath in with a gasp of alarm or gard of the comfort and feelings of her hostess,
hysteric emotion, then with a powerful effort, above all, her sneering disrespect, nettled me
far which I honored aud loved her the more, beyond endurance. She drew lierself up with
she spoke collectedly. an assumption of offended dignity.
" I am not well. I am afraid that I have "You lose sight of the fact that I play to
over-exerted myself to-d.iy. I feel, at times, please my cousin, and at his express request.
such nausea and faintness, and my head throbs Miss Allison. I presume that his wishes, as

violently. I suppose prudence would dictate master of this house and my guardian, are en-
that I should go to bed without further delay. titled to some consideration."
What do you think 1" I had thrown down the gauntlet, and she had
" Unquestionably yon onght. It is wrong not hesitated to pick it up. From that moment
for you to sit up a minute longer than is abso- I understood that she recognized in me Leah's

lutely necessary, if such are your feelings !" I partisan and, as a consequence, her own ene-
replied, decidedly, as I knew she meant I my, and whatever semblance of civility we
should. " Shall I go up with yon ?" might maintain in the presence of others, our
" By no means I had rather you stayed
! swords were always unsheathed to each other's
here and made my apology for taking French eyes. Less than three minutes had elapsed
leave. Good-night!" She leaned over my when Mr. Moore came running down stairs.
chair and kissed me
an ic^- touch, that made "She is sleeping quietly and soundly," he
me shiver. "Don't disturb tliem," she whis- reported. " I hope it was mejely fatigue.
pered, seeing me glance towards the uncon- She tri7/ overwork herself! We will try that
scious performers. " I often steal aw.iy without duett once more, Nettie. I am fearful that
their knowing it. I am frequently sick and you find our music a bore. Miss A"Uison but ;

worn out by evening ; but this will not last we will not tax your patience much longer. I
forever, I hope.
For the present, a good night's only want conquer an obstinate passage in a
to
rest is the best medicine for me." piece we have been playing. It is one of my

It was a full half hour before Mr. Moore looked idiosyncrasies that if I fail to master any por-
around and missed his wife. tion of a composition, I am haunted by it in-
" Where is Leah ?" he asked. cessantly, until I can attack it again."
" She was seized with sudden faintness some " Perseverance is the secret of most successes
timp since, and obliged to retire," I responded, in thisworld," w.as the only and very lame
very gravely. truism that arose to my tongue. Presently I
"Is it possible? Why did not she tell me ventured to add "There is no 'danger that the
:

of it?" music may awaken Leah, is there ?"

" I wished to do so, but she would not allow "None whatever! Her room being in the
it." back sonud of the piano is
of the house, the
Before the words were out of my month he scarcely audible there. She would not mind
bad vanished, and I heard h'n fleet, light step it, if she heard it ever so plainly."
go up the stairs, taking two at a bound. I saw Miss Dalrymple hold down her head to
" She wasn't much sick, was she ?" queried conceal a smile. She had the coolest, most in-
318 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZIXE.

tolerable, and unanswerable sneer I ever saw longed conference was ended by Mr. Moore's
upon woman's face. Heaven forbid that I removing the hand that had, unintention-
little

should ever behold it upon another's I up to a resting-pLice upon

ally, doubtless, stolen
" Put your foot xipon the soft pedal, Nettie," his shoulder, and saying, more loudly than he
Mr. Moore had the grace to say. meant to, " Come, darling this is selfish in !

" Certainly, if you wish it but it will spoil ; us!"

the effect of the finest passages." He quitted her side and came forward to my
She contrived to do this so effectually that table, agaiu apologizing for his apparent neglect
the recommendation to subdue the volume of of me by representing his passionate love of
sound was soon revoked. music.
" My fingers ache !" was her complaint when " Leah tells me that I am musio-mad, and I
the duett was finished. "Sit down !" drawing think, in my sober moments, that she is right.
a ciiair close to her side. " I have something Then follow resolutions of moderate indulgence
to show you something which I am too stupid in future a
praiseworthy intention, forgotten
to comprehend. I want the aid of your quicker the next time I see or hear an instrument."

brain." This was probably true. I had seen and

It was an obscure passage in a piece which lieard of the like instances before, and I told
she was a long time in finding. The interim him so, without suggesting that there might
was passed in low and, to me, inaudible dia- be weakness in the infatuation. From this we
logue. Mr. Moore had to lean forward to read rambled to otlier topics, Miss Janetta tiiking
from the sheet when it was finally produced, little share in the conversation and at the ;

and it was perhaps an unconscious action on close of perhaps a quarter of an hour, she re-
his part, throwing his arm about her waist as marked, with amiable reluctance, that it must
he bent over. Her head drooped sideways until be growiig late. We all arose at this she ;

her cheek almost touched his, and her curls returning the scattered music to the folios with
mingled with the raven profusion which poor diligent haste, and Mr. Moore assisting me to
Leah had likened to Absalom's. gather up the various implements of feminine
"Why 'poor Leah?'" I asked myself, in industry that lay upon the table. Some of
severe candor. This girl was Mr. Moore's these belonged to Leah, and I stopped in the
cousin he regarded her as a sister. She had
; sitting-room, on my way to bed, to leave them
peculiar claims, by reason of her loneliness and there.
affliction, upon his compassion and affsction. The door leading into her chamber was ajar,

There was nothing covert in his fondness no and as I struck against a chair in the dark, she
thought of evil, or it would not be so openly " Catherine is that you ?"
called, faintly, !

manifested. My notions were perhaps prudish, " dear Leah

It is I, How do you feel now ?
!

old maidish^for I was fast growing into an old Have you had a refreshing sleep ?" I said, going
maid in years and why not in overstrained up to the bed, and laying my hand upon her
notions of propriety also But these self-chid- ? hot forehead.
judgment could
ings and efforts after charitable "I have not slept at all My head aches !

not blind my mental and moral perceptions to too badly 1"

one fact Mr. Moore's feelings for and conduct
: I expressed no surprise. I could understand
towards his petted cousin gave his wife keen the reasons that had induced her to feign slum-
pain and, if he were aware of this, his present
;
ber to her husband. He should not snspei.t
behavior was reprehensible in the highest de- that /iear(ache, and not bodily ailment kept her
gree. Leah might be sensitivelyjealous beyond awake.
reason but she was his wife, fond, faithful,
;
" What can I do for you ?" asked I.
and self-sacrificing and as such, her whims
;
" Nothing unless you will be so kind as to

should have the weight of laws with him. bring me

the bottle of volatile salts I left in
Tlie knotty musical point required a great your room this morning. I mistook you for
deal of discussion, carried on in the same con- Catherine, and wished to send her for it."
fidential undertone, varied by an occasional I rejoined that slie should have it immedi-
cO'juettish laugh from Miss Dalrymple. Had ately,and went in quest of the desired article,
the talkers both been unmarried, I should have which I remembered having seen that evening,
esteemed my position as third person embar- not where she believed she had left it, but
rassing and indecorous, and beat an early retreat. upon the parlor mantel. The stair carpet was
As it was, I stood, or rather sat my ground, thick, my slippers light, and, without a thought
and read a late periodical. At last, the pro- of making a stealthy descent, or a suspicion
 " ;

POETRY. 319

Aod Id oar room the Ump barDA low,

that ^7 coming would be rnaf apropof, I reached
While rvKtless ehadows glldt> buut
the lower rooms unheard by tlie cousins had And OQ the hearth a feeble glow
passed the threshold before I noticed them, or
Warna that the Are is djiug oat.
they perceived me.
Bat that may die. for I am wnrrn
Mr. Moore stood in the centre of the apart-
With ever-glowing love-Hl flies,
ment, his arm closely enfolding Janetta's form ;
And have enctrcled by my arm
her head lay upon his bosom her hands were ; AH that my eool, of earth, desires.

clasped behind his neck, and at the moment of

Darling Liielte, the ton years past.
ray entrance he stooped to kiss her, with a Since you became my wedded bride,
murmur of inarticulate fondness. Have known but few cold nhiidows cast
*0h! the rapture of having you home again ! rpoa our outward flowing tide.
I have been so desolate
so weary-hearted I" Before yon told in words yoar love,
burst from her lips. And promised only mine to be,
The '*
rapture" was arrested by the sight of There was uo baud tha.1 cunld remove
Her exclamation of dismay her The veil of gloom that covered me.
the intruiier. ;

breaking away from his embrace the crimson ; Hy life had seemed one loag dark night.
scarce a aiugle cheering my,
With
tide that deluged her face, were proof sufficient
But you brought iu the God-sent lik'ht
to convict her of unworthy, if not guilty senti-
Which rounded to the fall-orbed day.
ments in maintaining her share of this question-
I heard uo more foreboding sounds
able intimacy. Mr. Moore reddened slightly,
From night-birds iu diink cypress trees,
but without losing his self-possession.
But walked in giirdens without boundf^,
" Have yon lost anything, Miss Allison ?*' he And drank life's wine without the lees.
queried, politely.
It was enongh : and I was saved
I walked straight by him to the mantel. Fr.>m selfish thoughts of gloomy things-
" Leah asked me to bring her this smelling- It was enough that y-'U had wavod
bottle." Love'8 wand about me, for life's strings

" Ah ! is she awake and sick ?" yoa sought,

Gave out the music that
"She has hatl a miserable evening." I did A seeming echo to your own,
not care iu what sense he took my curt re- And I found bliss such as, I thoaghl,
joinder. Ko other one bad ever known.
**
pleasesay that I will be up directly
Indeed ! How mnch I thank you it were vaia
so I can lock up the house," going
soon as For me to tell, and call up tears
towards the windows to shut the blinds. **I Upon this night of sleety rain.
That marks to us ten wedded years.
should have been with her long ago, had I not
hoped and believed that she was asleep." But when this fearful life has fled,
And I have done with "staff and rod,"
He was in eamest, now, with his preparations
I only a>k that yoa may tread
for retiring, for the clatter of bolts pursued me With me the pathway of oar God.
on my upward journey, and it was toovercome
this noise that MissDalrymple raised her voice
to an imprudent pitch. I could not avoid hear-
**PEACE."
ing the uncomplimentary observation uttered
BT J. E. W.
in blended anger and alarm.
Tpon two cold white hands
"Now The prying,
there will be mischief!
Rested an aching head,
maid came back on purpose !' and
tattling old
And I beard two pale lips mnrmur
the beginning of Mr. Moore^s reply, spoken iu " Oh God, that I were dead !'*

calm decision :
From two
" I have done nothing wrong I
soft
saw two tear-drops
dark eyes
fall,

Here I passed beyond hearing. And I heard the night wind whispering
(ConcliuiOD next monih.) Among the pine trees tail.

Isaw two pale hands crossed

Tpon a still, cold breast
AFTER TEN YEARS OF WEDDED LIFE. And on a pure white brow
BY JOHS CALVI.V UITCHELL. A wreath of snowdrops rest.
Tni-aantamn night is strangely dark One heart had iftilted its aching,
With heavy clouds and sleety rain, On^ FouI knew no more pain,
"While through the trees, frozen and stark. And I knew that my great loss
The wild windf moan as if in pain. Was her eternal gain.
VOL. LXTII. 2(J
 THE SISTERS' SCHOOL.
(See Stad Plate.)

BY S. ANNIE FROST.

Thebb were a meeting-house, a town hall, danced like a sylph, chattered French or Span-
and all the other important buildings that made ish with her indulgent father, and won every
up a New England village in the latter years heart by her lively loving manners but de- ;

of the past century in the little town of Green- mure little Mary's domestic habits, her neat
haven but the interest of the village centred
; sewing, her quiet pretty manners, and sweet,
very muchin a tiny cottage, half hidden by the gentle voice found no imitator in this free, wild
vines clambering over porch, roof, and windows, child. Yet from the honr when their father
which stood back from the main road, and clasped them together in a tender embrace,
nestled in a little grove ofThrough-
tall trees. the two girls loved each other with a passion-
out all Greeuhaven, and for several miles around ate fervor, increased and strengthened by their
the village, the little cottage was well known total dissimilarity of character.
as the "Sisters' School;" and loving hearts Sheltered in this quiet home, Joseph Hal-
prayed for the orphan girls, whose sad story comb seemed at last content to rest, and Patience
was "familiar as a household word" round was flattering her sisterly heart with this hope
every heartlistone. when the Revolutionary War broke out, and
Long years before our story opens, the little called thewanderer again from home. Year
cottage was the home of Joseph Halcomband his afteryear rolled by, and as the children grew
gentle, blue-eyed sister Patience. He had been from childhood to womanhood, the villagers
an ambitious, daring man and at the age of ; made them the heroines of Greeuhaven. Tht-ir
seventeen had quitted his quiet country home, beauty, and the name their father was winning
his pale, loving sister, and the monotony of in the defence of freedom, made them objects
life in the colonies to cross the ocean and seek of much love and pride ; and when peace was
Ins fortune in the busy whirl of London! Ten proclaimed, the joy in Greenhaven was subdued
years later he returned, with a blooming wife, by the news Halcomb's death. Safely
of Colonel
whose romantic story soon kept the gossips passing through many
battles, whose names
busy. An English heiress, some whispered of are now familiar to every schoolboy, he died of
noble blood, she had eloped with the handsome fever, far away from his New England home,
American to the bleak climate of Vermont, to none the less a martyr that the roll of mnsketry
Cud, alas an early grave in the colonies. The
1 did not sound his death knell, or the gleaming
tiny baby she laid with dying hands on the sword release his life blood.
gentle breast of Aunt Patience, was too feeble The blow was too severe for the loving sis-
a tie to bind the father's wandering inclinations. ter's heart that had borne so bravely the dreary
Again he left home, again married but warned ; years of separation, and Aunt Patience laid
by his sad experience, did not bring his wife to down her burden of life just as Mary entered
his home. It was twelve long years before he on her twentieth j-ear.

returned there, a second time widowed, bring- The fair gentle niece who held the dying
ing to his sister's care another motherless girl hand, that had acted a mother's part through-
of eight years, whose rich brunette complexion, out her young life, was one of those lovely grace-
large black eyes, and heavy tresses of jetty ful flowers that are found still nestling on the
Southern blood she inherited
hair, told of the bleak New England shores. Tender, self-de-
from her mother, as truly as her half sister's voting, and humble, her soft blue eyes were
blue eyes and ilaxeu curls bespoke her English filled with the earnest light of a pure womanly
parentage. nature her sweet month seemed made for
;

From the hour when Isadore'g bounding none but loving words, and even her quiet,
footstep first crossed tlie threshold of her quiet neat dress spoke of the refinement and modesty
home. Aunt Patience led a martyr's life. The that were inherent in her nature. She was of a
sampler which little Mary had perseveringly small but exquisitely moulded type of beauty,
worked from the big blue A to the variegated with a pale yet clear complexion, tliat told in
Z was to Isadore's volatile fingers an impossible its ever-varying color the susceptible heart that

task. She could sing like a mocking-bird, throbbed under the gentle, graceful form and
320
 THE sisters' school. 821

face. In direct contrast to lier sister, Isadora " I know

but the music chokes me. I
it ;

liacl grown to sixteen a tall lithe llyure, slender must let itI am going to the woods for
out ; so
yet graceful in every outline, witli a rich dark a serenade with the birds. Don't look so
complexion, large black eyes, that would melt shocked, Mary there is no sin in it."
;

irith pathos or Hash with excitement as the " But if anybody hears you ?"

mood prompted her; glowing cheeks, and a " I '11 go too far for that. Will you come ?"
Trealth of lustrous black hair that she utterly But Mary had copies to set, samplers to cor-
refused to cover with the cap that custom had rect, and sums to revise so Isadore rambled ;

made necessary for the village girls. Restless off alone. The long summer afternoon was
Rnd bright as some tropical bird, her grief for drawing to a close as she reached the cleared
father and aunt far exceeded her sister's in recess in the woods which she delighted to call
passion and violence but the color came to
; lier own. There she had been aieuslomed to
lier face, the spring to her step, and the light spend long hours, conning some French, Span-
to her eyes, long before Mary's lip smiled, or ish, or F.nglish work taken from her father's
her voice lost its sad cadence. stock, or lying idly on the grass, watch with au
From the hour when the villagers followed artist's eye the shifting clouds and waving
Aunt Patience to the grave, they seemed ani- branches above her head. Reached only by a
mated by one spirit of rivalry to outdo each difficult, and in many pUaoes dangerous path
other in kindness to the orphans. No voice from the was rarely visited by
village, the spot
liut was loving, no hand but was stretched the and the more easily travelled
villagers,
forth in sympathy, no eye but rested tenderly road leading to the same nook from the town
on these beautiful young faces."^ There was no of Newkirk was loo little used to excite any
property left for them but thejittle cottage, fear of intrusion there.
and taking loviug direction of their affairs, the With .ill the delight of a child out for a holi-
frieuds decided that the sisters should open a day, Isadore threw aside her hat, and drew in
school. deep inspirations as she stood shaded by the
Some ten scholars were immediately entered, trees, yet in the open space some enterprise
and the labor of drilling these young minds had cleared and deserted. Her dark lioniespnn
was before them. For Mary the task was a dress, and narrow white ruffle, served but to
congenial one, and her patient care carried heighten her rich beauty, and as she flung out
little brains through A, B, C little fingers over
; her arms in the glad graceful .action of freedom,
seam and sampler, winning love from even the her pose was the perfection of statuesque beauty.
most stubborn rebel of the lot. But Isadore Music lighted her face, graced her attitude,
fretted under the bondage. The stated hours played in her smile as she began to sing. No
wearied her with their monotonous regularity, words sprang to her lips, but the gush of free,
lier own aptitude in study made her impatient wild melody bore the burden of a Spanish air
of stupidity, and it needed all Mary's gentle she luad heard her mother sing. Varied by the
persuasions to keep her to the task. brilliant execution of a passionate lover of
"Another dreary day in this treadmill!" music, carried out on the air by a voice whose
she said, impatiently, tossing aside the blotted wonderful power and freshness stood bravely
copybook of one of her hopeful pupils. " Come, the open air test, the melody danced from the
Mollie, put by your sampler, doom all the false graceful air to imitations of every bird th.at

stitches to oblivion, and come out with me." sang around her. The round white throat and
"Where, Dora?" rich lips seemed inspired with the very spirit
"Anywhere! I am pining for the air, for of music ;and song after song, trill following
freedom and exercise. Heighho This is a I the mocking-bird's rich notes quavering to
trill,

dull life, May, and one may well sigh, as little the cuckoo's call poured from her voice till,
Jennie did to-day, for 'something to happen.' " langhing, wild with a sort of delirious excite-
" Something to happen ?" said Mary, inquir- ment, the songstress threw herself on the grass
ingly. to rest after her free burst of passion.
" Some excuse She was sick
for a holiday. She was still lying there, her head pillowed
for a ramble, a game of romps, or some excite- on her round white arm, her heaving cliest and
ment so I promised all sorts of liberty should
; .quivering lip marking her exhaustion, when,
ffdiow a good lesson to-morrow. She can only looking np, her eyes met another pair looking
study under stimulus. Mollie, I want to sing." down The intruder wore a dress str.ange
at her.
"Oh, Dora!' and Aunt Patience only six to her,and a look she had never met before.
weeks dead." Blushing deeply, she sal up.


322 godey's lady's book and magazine.

"You will pardon my intrusion," the stran- "But, Mollie dear, I should give up the
ger said, courteously ;
" but I lost my way here school. I could never mana^ge it alone."
about an liour ago. I was directed from New- " But how could you live ? You do not like
kirk, and told the shortest way to Greenhaven sewing and there is nothing else."
;

was through this wood but it is a perfect ; "Nothing!" It was a long deep sigh that
labyrinth to me. Hearing your voice, I ven- echoed the words. All the proud longing of
tured back from a fruitless quest after a path to young genius, the half-understood yearning
inquire way."my after the higher developments of an almost
"The road to Greenhaven is but little used," masculine intellect, the craving for the paths,
said Isadore, pointing to a rock that stood at in these latter days opened so
freely for wo-
some little distance from them. "You will man's steps, spoke in that sigh.
If she could
find it after you climb the rock." not sew nor teach, she must live upon charity
"Then you are from Newkirk." or starve. All her arguments were vain to
" No from Greenhaven."
; move Mary from her resolution, ami the morn-
"But" and he looked at the formidable ing found them both still waking, still talking.
mass of stone towering far above liis head The news that some grand English gentleman
" did you climb these V had come to claim the child that the village
" Oh, I 'm a country girl, and do not fear a had so cordially adopted spread like wildfire
scramble. You are astranger hero ?" she added, through Greenhaven. The Revolution was too
with a child's frank curiosity. recent, its scenes of blood too new for this news
" From Lincolnshire, England. I am here to be grateful, and all day tlie little school-
to seek souie relatives of my father. My name room was besieged by visitors, imploring Mary
is Harrington." not to leave them to go with the Tory, i

" Harrington ! Why, Mollie's mother was Black looks followed him as he passed through
named Harrington." the village but peace was proclaimed
; he had ;

"Perhaps you can me," he said,

direct come on a strictly personal and private errand,
eagerly. " I am seeking Miss Halcomb." and there was no excuse for molesting him.
"My name." The impression against him lost some of its
"My cousin, then!" he said, holding out bitterness when it was found he was to be the
his hand to meet hers. guest of the village pastor but there was no ;

" No, I think not, but Mary's ; so it is all the effort made to render his slay either long or
same." And there in the quiet twilight she pleasant.
told her own story and lieard his. In all the Evan Rayberg, the minister of Greenhaven,
long years that had elapsed since her father's was a man whose thirty summers set lightly ou
first marriage, the father of the runaway bride a tall erect form; a face of manly beauty a ;

liad been unforgiving, and inquired nothing of soul and heart full of high and ennobling im-
lier fate, but now his de,ith had released the pulses. Six months only had he filled the place
brother, and he had caused the traces to be re- left vacant by his fatlier's death, when Harring-

covered, and sent his son to bring the child of ton came with letters from the mother country
his sister to her English home. to claim the hospitality of the parsonage. These
It was along tale, as theyoung man pictured letters, addressed to his father, made the stran-
liis father's anxiety to see the child of his only ger a sort of trust to the young man, and his
sister,and dwelt on the various incidents of earliest efforts were given to supply the place
his own
voy.age and delays in finding the vil- of the lost host to his guest.
lage. Night had set in when tlieir long walk " I am in an awkward dilemma, Evan give ;

brought thi^m to the cottage door, and again me your sage advice," said Edward Harrington,
the tale w.as told for Mary. When, at last, as, after a visit to his cousin, he came into the
the newly-found cousin left them to seek ac- pastor's study.
commodations at the village inn, the sisters Evan looked up with a questioning face, and
wore out tli.) night hours in talk over the story. rolled anarm chair toward his guest.
"You know, Dora," Mary said, with an ear- "You see my directif)ns were to find this
nest tone that was not less resolute because cousin, and then write home for some of the
low and deep, "that I will never leave you., older members of the family my aunt most
What go away to England to a home of
I ! likely to come over here to accompany us to
luxury and love, and know you are wearing England ; but an unforeseen and stubborn dif-

out your life in work that is utterly distasteful ficulty arises

the young lady won't go."
to you?" A flash of light passed over Evan's face, but
 "

THE SISTERS SCHOOL. 823

only for an instant. " Suntly yon hare used her mother ; the shortness, probably, of the old
every argument," he said in a low lone. man's he urged upon her the family
life;

"All in vain. It is very provoking Tliat 1 pride, outraged by her present occupation he ;

lovely, delicate girl, heiress to a noble name, even, trying to cover his own agony, hinted at
to wealth and comfort, is lost in thisduil village, her cousin's love.
fretting out her life and beauty over stupid "You wish me to go!" she cried, at last.
brats of girls, who cannot appreciate her an- " I have heard uo word from any other fi lends
gelic patience and sweetness. I
" and he but regret ; all, all have urged me to stay, and
hesitateil a moment, " have half a mind to tell you whose
you all my father's plans." Over face and throat the crimson blood
There was no answer, no attempt to force the flushed, as she stopped, and after a moment, in
half unwilling confiilence but Kvan's jip grew
; which she vainly tried to recover calmness, she
pale, and his hand trembled as lie li^tened. left the room, sobbing violently.
" .\Iy father wishes me to marry my cousin, To see her so moved and not comfort her, to
that the estate need not be divided, but descend keep from pouring forth his whole heart re-
unbroken to his grandchildren. There the ! quired all Evan's self-control but he subdued ;

murder 's out. I am here on a courting expe- the impulse.

dition to tli,^t dove and beauty, and " but The whole interest of the seemed
village
here his confidence ceased. There was another clustering round that little where little
cottage,
secret that he kept for liis own. After a few faces looked anxiously at "teacher," and little
moments of silence, he said: " Evan, yon are voices interrupted the spelling with interested
her spiritual director, and all that sort of thing, questions about her slay or departnie.
will you use your inHuence to jiersuade her to Edward Harrington was a constant visitor.
go to England. Persuade them both. Sly Ills plan of courting seemed to have matured,
father will gladly welcome Isadore, and Mary forevery day found him at the cottage scarcely ;

has a ri'ilit to invite any guest." had the last footfall sprung over the door-step,
" I will try." the last dinner basket gone down the lane, when
"Try!" he whispered, Edward left the
as his voice rung out its word of greeting, and his
room. "Try to do what ? To tear away from handsome face peeped in at The
the door.
my lonely life the one hope that makes it charm of his bright face, and frank, hearty
sweet. To send from my loving eyes the face manner, his vast fund of travelled information,
that has been my beacon liglit for years. Oh, his .anecdotes, his earnest interest in all their
Mary I my love my life must it be my voice
I ! pursuits, made the hours fly ; and Mary, though
that sends you away my counsel that parts her heart ached over Evan's absence, yet lent
us. Yet what have I to olTer to balance these her sweet voice, and gentle quiet converse to
promises made you ? Only a loving heart, my help the time pass.
bird, my darling !" To Isadoie these evenings were pure enjoy-
It was a long, long time before the messenger ment. All her own childish recollections of
was calm enough to attempt his errand. From foreign lands, the months spent in England,
the time when his hand had led the fair-haired the rapid passage through Fiance and Italy,
child from the church to her own home, when when she was but a child, the long years in
Aunt Patience had let him take her pet for Cuba, all were recalled with a vivid memoriz-
rambles, berrying, or nutting, to the days when ing that surprised herself. Prompted by his
his college lore was brought
good to aid the more recent recollections, her rich voice filled
old dame in Mary's simple
from her tasks ; the cottage with songs in Spanish and French ;

childhood to this winning maidenhood, her and often, from one word or phrase, a whole
face had been his dream and hope. Her soft conversation would follow in one of these
blue eyes raised with the fervor of leligious tongues, while Mary sat thinking and longing.
enthusi.asm to him week after week, had made Listening for a footstep that never came, hoping
unconsciously the dearest spot for his eyes to for a voice whose mnsic never reached her
rest. He loved her. With all the energy of a now hut from the pulpit, wearying for the
strong nature, reserved, studious, and shy, he counsel and sympathy never before denied her,
h.ad ponied out his whole heart iu his love for she was growing paler, sadder, frailer, but
his young parishioner. always patient, never whispering, even to Isa-
With a calmness that surprised himself, he dore, her secret and sorrow.
placed before her every argument that conid As the weeks followed each other, Edward's
influence her. He pleaded her uncle's love for anxiety to persuade his cousins to accompany
2(j*
324 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

liim to England seemed

to fade away. No A DISH OF FOIBLES.
longer he paint in glowing words the pic-
dill

ture of the home that waited her no word of ;

impatience at his long detention escaped him, My fair readers, am

no philosopher nor a
I

and as Kvan marked buoyant step, his

his
bright face, ringing voice, and long, long visits
to the cottage, he wrapped his own misery in a
deeper reserve, and studied far into the sleep-
less nights to forget. At last the blow fell.
"Evan!" the cheerful voice jarred on his
disciple of Aristotle, but, believeme, a humble
cuisinier, who, in an obscure corner of this great
kitchen, has concocted a dish, which, if it pass
the editorial chair, may be placed on the table
and prove nutritious and succulent. I humbly
trust it may not be taken off (what a cut for a

ear as he sat writing, " I am going home." caterer !) an untasted dish.

"Home!" Evan's heart throbbed as if A Dish of Foibles But what are foibles?
I

bursting. Are they vices, errors, or follies? It is said

"But I go, I want you to do me one
before that foibles never make their appearance till

host favor. Give me the right to place on my the fiftieth year, after the impetuosity of youth
forehead, Here you may see Benedick, the
'
and the passion of manliood have been fused
married man.' " and cooled, and the man issues from the caldron
" Married !" Poor Evan could not command of experience no longer a pupil, but a master
more than one word at a time. in human nature.
" Yes, she is mine. There is to be no wed- Thus being begot by age and wisdom, why
ding fuss. This evening, in the presence of a should we say they are depravity ? For, though
few old friends, she will be my wife, and we to a bystander Mr. Bronte standing at his back
leave to-morrow for Boston, to sail next week door and shooting off pistols at the air must
for home. Her sister goes with us. You will have looked vicious, yet in reality there was
perform the ceremony, Evan ?" neither vice nor folly in his flashing off wrath
" Of course." with Ijis trigger. What a philosophical foible !

The calm tone conveved no hint of the break- And recommend every family in Christendom
I

ing heart. With the quiet of utter hopelessness, to liave a back door and a back yard that when
the pastor m.ide his few simple preparations, black humor comes on, the unfortunate one
and was ready when Edward came for him in may retire and shoot his spleen at an Aunt
all tlie finery of a bridegroom. Salti/. We reproach a man for a foible. We
The long walk was taken in silence, and the confound a foible with its step-sisters, and in
little group in the parlor greeted the pastor one breath talk of obstinate prejudices, sense-
with quiet respect. There were no festive pre- less foibles, and foolish weaknesses. Now I
p.irations. The villagers felt the loss of the deny that a foible is ever ill-natured, or has

and the prejudice against

sisters as a calamity, one particle of malice or hatred in its being.
English blood helped the sadness. There was Tliey are commonly the heritage of the good
a stir near the door, and Edward Harrington an<l They play on truth and I
honest ones. ;

stepped forward to take a veiled figure on his never remember to have seen a foible that was
arm. not in some way connected with love and gene-
Why did the flash of joy burst over Evan's rosity.

face? His whole frame dilated, and his voice, Now my grandfather (an old Tory) has a
in few preparatory words, rang out with its
its prejudice, while my godmother had a foible.
old musical cadence. Close beside the bride Just note the difl'erence. The old gentleman
stood another pale lovely girl, in a soft white has an obstinate hatred to anything French,
dress, bnt unveiled, and the bride clinging especially a French word and lately a favorite ;

shyly to Edward's arm was Isadore, not Mary. niece wrote to his honor of her approaching
The vessel that bore them over the waves to marriage, and in relating family matters, used -
the English home did not take from Greenhaven the word trousseau. The old gentleman grnm- I
the heiress of Harrington's name and honors, bled, wiped his glasses, and wondered what
but the blue-eyed girl, closing the school and J.ane's trowsers hadto do with Paris .ind mar-

cottage, went to make her home in the parson- riage settlements but a sudden light broke on
;

age, its loved and honored wife. his mind ; and he was just bursting out in an
invective against the war and the cotton trade
when some one present relieved him of his ap-

Politeness, like running water, smooths the prehensions that there was a scarcity of shilling
cotton in the market, and informed him thai
 A DISH OF FOIBLES. 325

" dear J.aiia had used the trousseau in place of If we'd etuck to Epsom salts.

the Knj;lish phras wedding outfit,' wliich last

' We 'd not beea lyia^ iu these ere vaalts.
Old EpUaph.
was not considered elegaut or suggestive."
lint sliades of the Trojans 1 the storm w.as I grant that a foible is a little awkward, and
frightful. Alas for poor Jane ! It is feared by is certainly a grotesque phase in one's char-
the whole family that his will was altered that acter; bat still it ia an essential part of age,
very night. At all events his manner has so and is as attractive as the rosy cheek of an
changed to her that she thought it of no earthly apple, whiiili never shows itself till it begins to
use to call her first son Abhiithib. ripen. one great charm in the works of
It is

Now an ignorant, self-willed prejudice.

this is Charles Dickens that his characters have foi-
A numher of ".Ml The Year
writer iu a late bles, and they are not kept in the green- room,
lumnd, " in an article ''Pet Prejudices," has or seen peeking out at the side of the drop, or
tliowu us the faults of his family and from ; merely walk across the stage, or pl.iy short
my grandfather's disposition, it is evident that parts, but they are as visible as the foot-
in character he is tlosely allied to the same lights, and like them throw a warmth and glow-
family. Now this was not the spirit of the on the stage they are no slock actors, but
;

philanthropic foihle of my godmother, who, to stars, and we nevet- fail to call them out to re-
the day of her death, believed iu the efficacy of ceive our bouquets and plaudits.
"patent medicines." I should not acknowledge that man as ray
In the days of her sponsorial duties, as I stood friend or neighbor who did not firmly believe
before her to repeal " I believe iu God the in the identity of good old Mr. Pickwick and
Father, etc.," I remember along with a bag of Aunt Betsy Trotwood. A man can be laughed
sugar-plums was a larger bag at her side con- at- without being ridiculed; but biograpliers
t.iining Morrison's pills. She always carried a forget this, especially if they have a hero for a
ilozen boxes about with her iu case of any un- subject.
foreseen accident, or, if she met auybotly ailing, What book a collection of foibles
a strange
or stepped into a poor man's house where would We
have books of witticisms and
be.
there was sickness; so that along with her jokes. Men of learning and erudition have
injunctions to keep closed windows and the edited "Jack the Bean Stalk" and "Robin
patient warm, she could leave some pills. She Hood," and latterly much research is going on
was always true to pills but considering that ; in old graveyards to rescue quaint inscriptions
the world was growing older and wiser every and half erased epitaphs and will no antiqua- ;

year, she was always adopting new makers. rian come forward with his manuscripts and
Thus she went from .Morrison's to Brandreth's, show us that he has "eyed nature's walk?"
and then to some Indian ones, and so on. As Tlie compiler of such a work must be both an
regards sarsaparilla, or anything in a bottle, old and a new scliool historian for, while like ;

being a teetotaler, as the Americans say, she M.icaulay he believes traditionary lore anil
avoided them, having no confidence in any- loves the quaint nooks and quiet recesses of
thing to be drunk. But at length she an- human nature, he must have Buckle's research
chored on llolloway's and ointment, and
pills and perseverance aud if he pursues that gen-
;

it was a beautiful sight to see the peace and tleman's method by statistics, he will be en-
comfort which the reading of his pamphlet abled to lay down the foibles to come he cau ;

aiforded her. calculate the number th.at will have foibles,

Probably if her life had been spared she and the subjects that will be most popular, and
would still take his pills and sound their praises. ifhe strictly keeps to the inductive method,
But a cruel Providence deprived her both of even a Socrates need not sneer.
pills and life. Being up in the country one I might multiply foibles. I might delineate

season, she was more than usual liberal with the matrimonial foible of an old lady whose
her pills amongst the country folk. And, alas 1 loving disposition manifests itself iu making
one day she fell and broke her leg intlamma- ; sheets and pillow-cases for her daughter Susan,
tion set in she was out of pills the last box
; aged forty, who, she thinks, will soou be led to
was gone, and she was bled. She never reco- the hymenial altar, "fordid not Benton bor-
vered this clinical blow, but sickened and died, row a book of Sus.an last week ?"
and to the last lamenting the untoward provi- But I forbear, remembering the author who,
dence. Mirabeau says, read an article on ennui before
Hew lies I dnd my three danghters, the Academy of Science, in Berlin, which put
Killed of dria'icLDg CiieUeaham waters. them all asleep.


THE PURSUIT OF WEALTH UNDER DIFFICULTIES.

A LIFE SKETCH.

BY ETTIK ELTON.

(Concluded from page 239.)

CHAPTER Vr. thankful. Quite an adventure this ; pity some

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS. knight or genii shouldn't appear to me"
"Wish to go to a hotel, ma'am?" said a
Itwas niiiinight at Flintville. The silvery-
gentle voice behind her.
queen looked calmly fi-om her ethereal throne
"No, sir I" was the
brief reply from the
upon the still earth, while the spotless snow
half frightened who, after all, was not so
girl,
sparkled in her bright rays like a world of
willing to receive aid from some mysterious
diamonds.
source, and she stepped hastily into the ait-
All eyes were closed to this scene of beauty ;
ting-room.
all ears were deaf to the puffing and snorting
" Only a little after one I can't stay here !

of that iron steed rushing on with his mighty

till morning. Will you please inform me if
train of chariots, laden with hundreds of dozing
you know a Mr. Peabody's family in Flint-
passengers, too intent on haste to spend the
ville ?" said she, calling quite loudly to the
night in wooing "tired Nature's sweet re-
baggageman, who was busily engaged in shut-
storer." Some seemed groaning in the fierce
ting doors, extinguishing lamps, etc.
grasp of Somnus, while others were so weary
After a few minutes' pause he replied, gruffly,
of the world that even life itself seemed but a
" I know E. Peabody, a merchant. Is it him
dream but the long shrill whistle and " Flint-
;

you want to find?"

ville" rung in at the door, aroused some from
" Yes, sir. How far do they live from here ?"
their half waking slumbers, and one little
maid witli jet black eyes and hair, a little dis-
" Not very far. Why did you not tell me of
that before ? I saw his wife's brother around
hevelled from the night's journey, inquires,
here a few minutes ago ; he would have shown
"Flintville, did he say? Ah, that is where I
you riglit there."
am going to stop, and in the night, too. Oh,
that is so bad for me, and all alone, too 1" she "His wife's brother Harry Blake! How
continued, half to herself. By this time she should I know in the dark ? Well, it is too

had buttoned her furs, taken satchel in hand, late now

he 's gone. Pity we live in such a
;

and finding that her veil was itll right, and her suspicious world Strange we can't know when
I

porte-monnaie safe in her pocket, was just our friends are near us. But, sir, if you will
stepping from the platform when a gentleman be so kind as to conduct me to their house I
oflTered his assistance to lier in alighting, whom will pay you for your trouble."

she discovered in the moonlight, by the word So with a guide, as crusty as the snow be-
"Baggage" on his glazed cap, to be the agent neath her feet, she walked tremblingly on, .she
for Flintville. knew not whither, but much to her gratifica^
"Where will a carriage, sir ?"
I find tion found that her friend's residence was not
"Not here they don't run to the
to-night ; more than five minutes' walk from the depot.
night trains. 'Where do you want to go ?"
"I have a friend in town, but I want to go " Some one is coming up the walk, Erastus.
to"a hotel to-night, and find my friend to-mor- I guess it is Florilla. Light the lamp. There 's
row." a ring at the door ; hurry. What ails the
"Well, it's quite a piece to a hotel," said matches ? There, now, I '11 just slip on my
he of the shining cap, and walked on to the wrapper, and you need not get up at all."
baggage-room, leaving our fa'ir friend in the "Florilla, is it?"
moonlight alone. " Does Mr. Peabody live here ?"
" What 's to be done now f " soliloquized she ;
"Yes who wishes to come in ?"
;

"tnis is a beautiful arrangement ; no carriages, "Your old friend Dell Dell Dal ton ; don't
long wav to a hotel, oh dear well, I can sit in
! you reme-iiber me ?"

the ladles' dfipartment of this institu*'ru free " Why yes, indeed ;come right in. How
of charge. If nothing worse happens, I 'U be you surp)ised me ! I was not looking for you.
326
 THE PURSUIT OF WEALTH UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 327

Cold, isn't it f Here, take tliis easy-cbnir, and asked me if I a hotel, and it
wished to go to
we '11 soon Lave a fire ; llie coals are still frightened me and that is all I
half to death ;

biiriiiiig." know about it, except that long after he was

" I 'ill not Tsry cold; but, oh dar, we've out of sight Mr. 'Baggage' said it was your
had such a slow journey, four hours behind brother."
time. I would have been here at eaily eve- Thus the friends went on chatting till the
ning if the cars had lieen on time. It '3 too clock reminded them of the hour of three,
bail to disturb vou so late at night." when they parted for a little repose.
" Oil no, not at all ; I 'm so glad to see vou.
Wliv di.l you not write me that you were "Delia Dalton !" said Mr. Peabody ; "what
coming f" sent her here !"
" I did not decide to come till last Monday, "Why, she has come for a visit, the same
and then I thought it would be a pleasant that all our friends come for. She 'a a pleasant
surprise to come all unnxpected and but dear girl I wish I had time to enjoy it.
; I tell you

me, I began to think it was not quite so funny, now, Erastus, I 'II manage to bid adieu to that
I 've had such a time." school before long."
" Any trouble to detain you so late ?" " Well, then, try to sleep an hour or two
" Oh no, nothing hut slippery tracks, waiting under the cistle of hope. Maybe you 'II have
for trains, and so on. I really began to think pleasant dreams."
we never should get here but as everything
; Aurora, in her garments of rubies and gold,
finite has an end, so had our journey. But tarried not for the sleepers to finish their sleep,
the way I between a red hot
sat there roasting but with all her brilliant train climbed o'er the
stove on one side and the fattest old judge you eastern bathing nature in a sea of light
hills,
ever saw on the other! If it had not been for which made her look a thousand tiuies more
the cooling influence of an old maid opposite, I glorious than the most skilful artist can depict.
think I should have been boiled. But the old Strange, indeed, that these indescribably beau-
maid was useful, uotwithstanding her mullien- tiful pictures,thrown out to us from the pallet
stalk appearance. I wish you could have been of the Almighty, can be gazed upon as they are
there to laugh with me. I dared not tell all
without emotion strange that myriads of hu-
my funny thoughts to the old judge, lest she man beings, professed lovers of beauty, should
should prove to be his sister Patience." rise from their pillows daily to look npon such
"Very thoughtful you were; improved some, scenes, but to complain " They came too soon."
I guess, of late.Strange, isn't it, how many But, as the Peabody family gathered that
pleasing and annoying circumstances attend us morning around the breakfast-table, there
even on a short journey !" seemed no dill'erence of opinion among them in
" I 've been from north to south, from east regard to the fact that their slumbers were not
to west, to boarding-school, Saratoga, and Ni- half ended.
agara, and never had such a mixture of the "We are expecting Cousin Florilla Danvers
provoking, pleasing, and amusing dished out in every train. I really thought you were her
to me before and last of all, that baggage-
; last night," remarked Mrs. Peabody. "You
man, what kind of a compound do you call are acquainted with her, are Delia?" you not,
liim .'" "Florilla Danvers? Why, yes, indeed; is
" What baggage-man Mr. Muggins ? Have she coming here, too? I had not seen her for
you hi-id an interview with him '!" some time before I left home, and she is such a
" I don't know whether his name is 'Mug- quiet little body she never would hear of any-
gins' or 'Dubbins,' but it is the only man thing like gossip by accident."
I 've seen in Flintville save one, to be sure, " It would have been pleasant for you to
who I was led to guess afterward was your have travelled in company. I had a letter,
brother Harry. But didn't I jump beautifully more than two weeks ago, saying that she
when he spoke me, if it really was him I
to ; would he here to spend the holidays, and here
wish I coul'l have known it, and thus escaped it is just the day before Christmas, and not a

the protection of that Mr. Vinegar what do sign of her coming yet."
you call him ?" "I should have enjoyed her.company much,
" We expected Harry home to-night from but if your visitors should increase in a two-
Chicago. He came upon the same train with fold ratio til! holidays are over, 1 am afraid you
you, did he ?" will be taken captive by them. Did Flora
'
I don't know about that, only some one know that you were teaching?"
 ;

323 godey's lady's book and magazine.

"I think not." for her to do for herself what devolves upon
".lanette keeps that matter from her friends every animate object."
pretty well, I assure you," chimed in Mr. Pea- "There's Florilla, I declare 1" exclaimed
body. Mr. Peabody, peeping out of the window just
"I hope yon don't thinx I am ashamed of in time to see a lady alight from the 'bus and ;

it. No, indeed; I had much rather have the allsprang from the table and hastened to wel-
name of that than follow the example of Mrs. come an additional guest.
Slacker, wrap myself in silk morning-gowns, Even Mrs. Peabody seemed delighted to see
and lounge upon velvet sofas, wondering why ' her, apparently forgetting at the time that so
respectahle people will snffer their daughters many duties were crowding upon'her.
to teach music' and the like of that, until my The pointers upon the dial plate already in-
husband is obliged to suspend payment. I dexed the hour of eight, and scarcely had the
never Could realize, Dell, that honorable em- sounds of salutation died away when in came
ployment is less respectable in woman than in the little Delia, dancing and spatting her little
man." fat hands, exclaiming: "Mamma, Uncle Wil-
" Xor I either, Mrs. Peabody bnt I am ; liam 's come Uncle William 's come I"
!

wondering how in the world you can get along
with housekeeping and teaching, besides enter-
taining company by the wholesale, and only
one servant."
" I tell yon, Dell, every woman can render
)ierself four times as useful and not a whit the
less happy custom generally allows, if she
tlian
only has the disposition."
" Well, I was just thiuking of Harvey Jones'
wife. Ton knew Harvey was married, did you
not ?"
"No, indeed; who did he marry ?"
" Nobody you or I ever heard of. She came
from down east somewhere. Harvey saw her,
fell in love at first sight, and in a few weeks
they were married. She claims to have been
educated in we.alth and indolence her parents
are both de.id, her father having become bank-
rupt just before his death but the query of it
;
is, she has not one relic of ancient grandeur
her wardrobe is almost shabby, and not an
ounce of table silver, or any of those choice
Another excitement, another rush to the
door, to discover that, sure enough, there were
horses covered with jingling bells, and a sleigh
laden with the precious burden of Uncle Wil-
liam's family. These were always welcome
visitors, and as the cheery "Good morning"
and " How do you do" mingled in the sweet
cadence of friendship, the future seemed lost
in the abundance of present enjoyment.
We will now introduce to our readers the
Rev. William Brightman and family, relatives
of the Peabodys, whose home is not more than
half a score of miles from Flintville. You will
discover in the person of this clergyman quite
a different specimen of the ecclesiastical order
from that of Mr. Crabbe. With a heart over-
; flowing with cheerfulness, friendship, love, and
every other good thing, he would have given
you such a hearty shake of the hand before I
could have finished this long presentation that
yon would have remembered it as long as yon
lived and he would have declared that he
;

things, which always descend from mother to was glad to see you, without reference to your
daughter, has she got, notwithstanding only name or denomination.
two members of the once wealthy family are In the enthusiasm of this morning's surprise
left. Now, you know Harvey is not wealthy. party Mrs. Peabody began to fear that, for
It is true he h.is a lucrative trade, but it takes once, she should be late at school and as she ;

something more than a man's earnings to sup- saw the sands of time falling more and more
I>ort servants and purchase costly clothing and rapidly, she felt that she was trying to be more
furniture. Mother thinks they '11 fall through useful to the world than she at that moment I

was with almost heroic '

before long." desired to be, and it
" That 's re.ally a pity for Harvey I always ; courage that she summoned resolution to take
thought him a fine fellow." leave of her guests. Halting at the kitchen
"So did every one: and he was doing so door, she gave orders for dinner, telling Sally
well before he was married. All his friends are to be a good girl, and cook it nicely.
sorry for him but I was thinking what ambi-
;
" I '11 try to be jist as good as I kin, that 's

tion can do, and what a frail bark woman is so" and Sally quickened her pace, echoing to
without it. Now, Mrs. Jones is a sweet little the closing door
woman, as the saving is, but she is so totally *' Mother tanirbt me bow to sew,

destitute of ambition that 't really seems hard Father bought the needle."
 THE PURSUIT OF WEALTH UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 829

" Where there 's a will there 's a way" h.id

CHAPTER VII.
always been her motto, and should it fail her
TBB BSCAPB. now f

"Takb this seat," said Miss Danvers, as- Dinner was soon over, and Jennie was dis-
snniing the cliaraoter of liostess at the ilinner- patched to the shop of the village milliner but ;

tahle, at the .lame time directing Mrs. IV:ihody she declared she could not be troubled with
to the riglit of the oue she was used to occupy. such little jobs there was no prolit in them.
" I take the liberty of presiding to-day yon ; Jane Smith and Anna M 'Culver were both en-
look too tired to pour colTee for a table of gaged ; so she must give up linding the help
twelve." she so much needed.
"Taking great liberties, Miss Flora," play- A few hours of deep anxiety have p.assed,
fully suggested Miss Dalton ; "and now I'll dnriug which time a thousand unexpected
just tell our true hostess, not you, indeed, cares have presented themselves for attention.
what has been done here to-day. Now, to The last r.ays of the setting sun have passed
proceed to the narrative. Miss Florilla Dan- from off the tall church spire, and though na-
vers h.13 been guilty of great improprieties in ture is serenely calm and beautiful, yet in many
the family of the I'eabodys. At nine A. M. homes in Fliiitville all is excitement, hurrying
she observed the exit of the lady of the house, to and fro, gay young misses striving to put on
after which she proceedeil to the kitchen with their prettiest in the least possible time; country
great impunity, and after some exertion on her lasses, "working for their board," hastening
part, anil much tnore on tie part of Sally, tlie the tea-things by, while all the little boys and
maid, succeeded in preparing the dinner before girls manage to fill up all the spare time and
DS, and is now serving it up with great ap- room with curious questions and their almost
plause." ubiquitous presence.
A shout of Laughter prevented the eloquent
Just at this hour Mrs. Peabody was hasten-
Dell from giving a further recital of events, and
ing home when she was accosted by Nellie
Mr. Brightuian suggested that .Miss Dell Dalton
Gray, with the interrogative assertion " Then :

be requested to deliver an oration at Dunham's

we can't speak the Sister Band to-night, be-
Hall this evening, in connection with the grand
cause Jennie says she has no dress to wear ?"
exhibition of the High School taught in said
This came like an arrow to the heart of .Mrs.
hall. But, like a good singer, the strong-
minded Dell of course declined, and the conver- Pe.ibody, and she replied, abstractedly : "I '11

see that Jennie's dress is ready."

sation turned upon the prospective exhibition,
which, while a subject of mirth to the many, But how was she to see to that at that time
fell with crushing power upon the anticipations of day, within one hour of the time appointed
of .Mrs. Peabody. for the grand exhibition, and then .Mr. Birch

"This is too short for me, and too tight," had not attended to the hanging of the curtains,
said Jennie, just issuing from her chamber, and she had been detained an hour with that
holding iu her band a crumpled dress of white job, and finally left it for the boys to finish.
muslin which had been packed away since the Perhaps it would not be done right, and thea
last summer. she would have to do it over she must hasten ;

The excitement coming evening, and

of the
the important part she was to act in the snowy
robed group, called the "Sister Band," had
quite stolen aw.ay her appetite and after hastily
;
disposing of a dish of soup, begved excusing
from the table to examine her wardrobe for the
necessary toilet.
A cloud of anxiety passed over the mirth-
lighted face of the mother, .as
strove to devise a plan to do half a day's
in justno time at all. Mrs. Boiingbroke, her
engaged seamstress, was out of town for a
week's visit. She corild think of no one else
who would or conld do the pretty job. If she
had been Mrs. Cooper, she would have snnk
back again as fast as possible. By this time
she had entered her own home, so deeply ab-
sorbed in thought that she scarce could realize
where she was, or what she was doing.
Presently a little fairy form, clad in a robe
of snowy whiteness, so neatly fitting and so
beautiful, with her sash of delicate blue falling
from her waist, and her rich brown hair so
she mentally smoothly plaited, and flowing over her slionl-
work ders, that our heroine might have fancied that
some kindly spirit had liy magic transformed
her child, her darling Jennie, into an angel.
Conld she really believe her eyes ? How, and
by whom was this accomplished ?
" Cousin Flora did it all, mamma You !

down in despair, but that wouldn't do for her. didn't miss me at recess ; I ran home so fast
330 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

for her to measure me" and a merry little sinking spirits, let us act the part of men and
shout rose from half a dozen voices. women."
" I beg leave to state that Miss Flora didn't Shouts of applause arose from the little au-
do it all," playfully contested Miss Dalton. dience, a quietus had fallenupon the "hide
"If you '11 believe it, Charley Blake, the mis- and seekers," and all seemed to feel their in-
chievous elf, has been here half the afternoon, dividual responsibility to preserve order. Just
helping her to pull out the basting threads, then a lady came up the aisle with a hasty
hold scissors, etc. etc. Mrs. Peabody, it will step, and all rose to greet her. She had taki'U
never do for you to suffer Miss Florilla Danvers off her hood, and was holding it by one string,
*'
to play ladij of the house any longer. Some- and the full blaze of light shining full in her
thing serious will come out of it, I fear." face revealed traces of anxiety which we cannot
" It is and momentous question left
a fearful easily describe.
for the wiseand judicious Mrs. Peabody to de- " Where's Mr. Birch," said she, earnestly.
cide upon," exclaimed Mr. Charles Blake, who Cries of "We don't know," " He hasn't been
was half hidden in the folds of a heavy window here since school," and " I don't believe he '11
curtain by which he had been sitting. " And, come .at all," mingled in a confused reply.
lost the verdict be not rendered in favor of my The audience now began to assemble. The
client, the defendant, I will take my departure, seats were soon filled. Sleigh loads with jing-
and spare myself and her the mortification of ling bells and merry voices, and shouts of
witnessing the decision." So saying, he bade laughter came from the neighboring villages
the ladies "good-night," and departed, not until every vacant spot was filled with persons,
forgetting, however, to call at seven to escort sitting or standing, eagerly awaiting the open-
them to the general place of resort for that ing of tlie exercises. Last of all Mr. Birch
evening. made his appearance, coming slowly and dis-
An hour passed by. Brilliant lights shone interestedly throngh the crowd, pausing now
from the windows of the Dunliam Hall. The and then in his way, to talk with this one and
centum were already there, seated on
of pupils that. Weary
with waiting, Mrs. Peabody ap-
either side the rostrum, with as mucli ambition, proached him and said that it was already half
mingled with glowing expectation, thiobbing an hour past the appointed time, and that it
in their young hearts as ever pulsated in the was very important that the exercises should
bosoms of Grecian students, wlieu assembled in commence immediately.
their national Athenseum. Long rows of seats As usual he vacantly assented to her pro-
were left vacant for spectators. Little thought- posals, and ascending the rostrum called out in
less boys and girls, whose eyes had never yet a cracked voice to the audience for order, an-
been charmed by laurel wreaths, were playing nouncing at the same time that the pupils of
" hide and seek" among their shadows. the school would proceed to entertain them for
Presently Mr. Thaddeus Graves called the a short time with some original essays and
attention of the audience by a tinkling of the declamations.
teacher's bell, and said :
The call to order was unavailing, and Mr.
" Fellow Students It becomes us this eve-
: Birch considered the case hopeless. A stam-
ning to conduct ourselves with the most un- pede of boys from the neighboring schools,
wavering propriety. We shall be subject to unable to procure seats in the crowd, were
the criticism of a large crowd of spectators, entertaining themselves with rattling their
with no teacher to govern or direct us but the boots in every variety of style, producing a
gentle whisperings and subduiug influences of very unharmonious confusion.
our preceptress. Without any feeling of trea- "What shall wo do?" said Mr. Birch, de-
son in my heart, I am fearless to say that Mr. spairingly.
Birch has no heart in this matter. We have " I some one here to make an-
will obtain
jirepared our own declamations, and subjected nouncements, and you, if you please, go
etc.,

them to a lady for criticism. We have compiled down to the other end of the room and try to
our own compositions, and submitted them to preserve decorum there."
the same person for examination. And tliis " I will assist you if you wish me to," said
evening, all unaided and undirected by the Mr. Thaddeus Graves.
Principal of this school,we have prepared this "With much pleasure I accept your offer,"
room for the and now, for our own
occasion ; said Mrs. Peabody, rejoiced to make so good au
sakes, and for the sake of lier, whose untiring exchange.
efforts for our interest have buoyed up our Uis call to order was effectual, and the eve-
 THE PURSUIT OP WEALTH UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 331

niug passed off deliglitfully, all tlie exorcises " And I have learned that my pursuit after
being peiforiucd to tlie eutire satisfaction of wealth has been attended with too many diffi-

tlie auilieuce. Motliers went lioiiie astouislied culties fur profit, ami that woman is fulfilling

at tlie which they had

rare buddings of genius about all her mission when she attends well to

for the time discovered iu their gay,

first her domestic duties and makes home happy.
tlioiiglitless daughters and fathers declared ;
If she would do more, let her efforts be put

that there were materials in that school for and let the
forth for the relief of the suffering,
future statesmen. Tliey "ahviiys knew their wealth she would accjuire be gained upon the
lioys were smart," but they never thoUf;ht principle of the old maxim, that a penny saved
'

they were such orators. Old Mr. Pinchara is worth two earned.' "
said tliat Fred, shoulil make a lawyer and ; These grave conclusions were all out short
Father Straightface thought that Sainmy would by the arrival of the young ladies, accompanied
m.ake a good minister, "if he should happen by Mr. Charles Blake, all in high glee in refe-
to have a call." rence to a miniature which had escaped its
"Them little girls did look purty in their hiding-place about the person of Miss Dalton,
white frocks and blue ribbius, " s.aid Mrs. and fallen into the hands of Charley, he de-
Ilodi^e. I 'most wish I had o' let Anne been claring that he would never give it to her until
iu that piece, but the truth is I don't 'prove o' she told him the name of tluat beautiful face.
wimmiu's speakin' but then they in public ; Dell poutingly declared thatit was her cousin ;

looked so kind o' angel like wheu they spoke but Charley persisted in wanting to know the
o' faith, and hope, and love, and all them. I name of tlie favored cousin, which she as posi-
'most wish I 'd o' let Anne jined that piece." tively declined giving. At last he delivered
"It wouldn't 'a' been a bit o' hurt in my the treasure into the hands of t'loia, command-
opinion," said old Mrs. Jarvis. never seen " I ing her not to let it slip till she had received
any kind of a spe.akin' school 'twas so good as the desired information.
that, and I 've been to a good many on 'em During this confab Mrs. Peabody bad taken
tew, in my day." from her pocket a couple of letters which bad
J.annette, you've done it up right
"Well, been there, still sealed, since the reception of
this time,"said Mr. Biiglitman. " I enjoyed the evening mail, this being the first leisure
that entertainment tlrere was something origi- moment she had had to peruse them.
nal about it, and all the students were so earn- "Come, Charley, aw.ay with your nonsense,
est in their attention, and so correct in their and listen to the news. Here's a letter from
deportment. But what did you do with that brother John ; he is to be married to-morrow
wooden machine I saw around there at the morning and take the first train for Flintvillei.
commencement of the evening, in the person Frank Lucas and bis wife are to accompany
of Mr. Birch?" them. Finely prepared we are to entertain a
" Sent him down to the lower end of the bridal party I And that wife of his I 've never
room, where he w,inted to be, and where we seen ; likely enough she 's some excruciating
all wanted he should be," said Mrs. Peabody, little miss, who will turn with disgust from the
irritated with herself that she should ever have customs of western life."
bad any business connection with him; "and " He 's a smart boy," 8<aid Ch.arley " never ;

now done with that school.

I 've I 've seen it even told the name of the favored one, and
safe through one term, and now I '11 leave Mr. here only yesterday I had a letter from him,
Birch to guide his own ship." and he never hinted such a thing. I believe
" But what will you do for money these hard be is playing a joke."
times ?" retorted Mr. Peabody. "No, he isn't there's truth in this letter,
;

" I 'U try to collect what is due to me and go and I am almost vexed with him for taking
without the rest." me 80 by surprise."
" My wife is a very ambitions woman. No " Never mind," said the girls, "you shall at
description do justice to her aspirings
will least liave the assistance of two very acconv-
after '
the wherewith' to fit np our mansion plisbed maids, and we 'U have a good time out
elegantly last fall. But for the last three of it too."
months I 've not heard a word about new fur- " Now I 'II read this seeond epistle ; no doubt
niture." it is the announcement of some other distinipi^.
"The wise grow wiser from experienoe, " said As I live it is," said she, after a moment's
Mr. Brightman " but I have learned tliat with
: silence. "
from Mrs. R.ay, she that used
It is

whatsoever I have therewith to be content." to be Addie Snow, the most intimate friend of
VOL. LXVII. 27
 ;

332 gobet's lady's book and magazine.

my girlhood. I 've not seen her for the past The case of Florilla and Charley is still

six years, and tliis letter inquires of me if I am pending.

to be 'at home' on New Year's day, and goes Mrs. Peabody's furniture is still the same,
on to say that she designs calling on me upon
'
and she, relieved of the anxieties incident to
that day if agreeable." the pursuit of wealth under difficulties, wears
"And that 's the very day before your school the sunny smile of earlier years, and avows
commences again," said Delia. "I really do that in her school dai/s slie dearly learned that
pity you, Mrs. Peabody." " contentment is great gain."
" Well, then, if you do, you must help me to
make my escape from my engagement there,
by taking my place the nest term. I 've been THE C.'iSKET OF THE YEAR.
waiting for a favorable opportunity for making
BY WILLIE E. PABOR.
you the and now you have it."
offer,
Pforl the Tmlh.OdnhtT.
" Oh, I can't do that I 'm not competent ;

October, with liis glury, crowns tlie earth,

besides, what would mother say ?" And every moveiuent proves his royal hirlh ;

"We'll write to her at once and find out;

For him the wood-nyraphp twine their coronals
and as to your competency, what is that diploma "Within the circle of their forest halls ;

good for if you are not competent to teach a

The Oreads from the grotto and the grove
Fliutviile school ? So you will agree to it, pro-
Seii-nymplis that through old ocean's caverns rove,
viding your mother and Mr. Birch raise no
Give welcome to the month of changing leaves,
olijectinns ?"
Of harvest plenty and of gulden sheaves.
" I '11 think about it. If I could only succeed
as well as you can" On Natnre's bosom rests the weary year,
In the last quarter of horjouruey here,
" I want you to succeed better in one thing.
Tell Mr. Birch before you enter the school that Weigbeddown with all the wealth the autumn yields.
Yet proudly puinting to the woods and fields,
he must pay you each week in advance, or you
will not teach and then the day he ceases to
;
And saying: "These I freely give to man,
fulfil his part, just leave him to his fate." And bid him take its blessings while be can ;

In due time the arrangement was made, and "For after me there cometh one whose hand
on the second of January Miss Daltou became Shall be laid heavily upon'the land :

Mrs. Peabody's successor. "Tbo swallow, lingering through these autumn hours,
For two weeks the stipulated sum was paid, Shall seek a home amid earth's warmer bowers ;

Init the third week Mr. Birch saw fit to sus- "And only here and there a flower remain
pend. With true decision. Miss Dalton left the As sad reminders of lost Flora's traiu ;

and scarce one moon had waxed

school at once ;
"And ominous sounds be he.Trd
in the air tb'
and waned when the principal theme of gossip Of dropping nuts and leaves by squiiTels stirred ;

for the people of Flintville was, that the school

"All tokens of the coming of the day
in Dunliam's Hall had dwindled out the pu- When Nature, in her desolate array,
pils at thattime numbering less than a score.
"Awaits with patience, through experienoe tried,
The last we heard of Mr. Birch he was The hour that hails her as the Winter's bride."
perched upon the summit of a load of house-
Although this knowledge brings its present pain,
hold furniture on his way to Peg Town, having
A panacea lor our giief remains
arrived at the sensible conclusion that he had
Id Memory, within whose magic hall
had no " call" to teach, and was about to enter
We stand, and see upon the pictured waU
into an establishment for the manufacturing of
October recollections made replete
shoemakers' pegs. Mr. Peabody was pursuing
By all In life deemed true, and pure, and sweet.
him witli an ofiicer, hoping to secure the
amount of his indebtedness to Mrs. Peabody. Now come the lengthening eves that once would bring
Familiar faces round the household ring,
Upon examination they found that his principal
stock consisted of rickety furniture, a broken And as the nuts and apples were passed ronnd.
And pleasant converse added social sound,
stove, and a gold watch, which "turned out"
to be pure brass. So the gentlemen permitted The genial moments swiftly sped along,

him to depart in peace. And in their passing by our hearts grew strong

Miss Dell Dalton has ceased quarrelling about To 8tf>m the current of whatever fears
the miniature, having taken the substance in Or trials shaped themselves about our years:
lieu of the shadow, and is now on her way to And while our faith uplifted hearts and hands,
Scotland, enjoying a bridal tour. Our life was beiiutiDeJ by its demands.
 : ;;

THE TILLAGE WITH ONE GEXTLEMAiN'.

A rAHLOIt DRAMA.
BT U XUl AS nnroLAS,

Dramatis /Vr.ioHtp, Though all want to know him, as far as I see,

Mr. Bkown. There no one but us who has asked him to tea.
's

Mrs. Vaxb. They say he is shrewd, and he can't have the

Mks. Dix. blindness
Miss Matilda Dix.
Miss Bar.vabt.
To pass by, unnoticed, our evident kindness.
Miss FKAxrE.vA Bar.sabt. He '11 see, as a friend, that I wish to receive
Miss Is.vbel Smith. him.
Miss Han.vaq Staples.
Of all of a stranger's dull hours to relieve him :
Miss Scsas Lanes.
Ue '11 see we wish well for his future and pre-

Note. This little drama, wliieh was wiittmi sent,
expre.-sly for parlor acting, is wry easily |i<t- And kindness, you know, is to every one plea-
foriii(<i, since it requires no scenery, and very
sant
little cliaiige of costume.
The pl.iy, though no very great trial of dra- I 'm glad that be hasn't been asked through
matic power, is a test of dramatic skill, ami the town
requires to be well studied, and to be acted I 'm sure his first hostess must please Mr.
witli tnitch aniinulif*n.
the ch.iracters of Mrs. Dix and Mrs. Vaxe
if
Browu.
are sustained by young ladies, they should
wear matronly caps, and all the garb of middle Scene II.

age.
SJiss Bamaliy (sola).
The other characters, of course, sboutd be
dilTereiitly attired in the monologues, and in Yes, he will be there, and I think I shall go ;

Scene VI i., where each young lady will enileavor I wish to discounteuance folly and show.
to sustain her part by her dress Mi.ss Ha.n.vah ;
I know there is much that is wrong in society,
Staples dexterously plying her knitting-nee-
But I behave with the strictest propriety.
shall
dles, an.l Miss Smith flirtiug with her fan.
Mr. Bkow.v's role is, perhaps, the most diE- They say he is, trnly, a worthy young man ;

oult. If virtue can please him, I think that /can.

I know he is thoughtful, I 'm sure our opinions

Scene I.
Will be quite in common ; I think, ou swift
Matilda. pinions.
Tes, mother, all's ready; don't think, for a The hours hasten by, and we ought to improve
minute, them
I 'd let that raw Irish girl's fingers be in it.
I think we have errors and ought to remove
The tables are set, and the guests are invited ; them
Five girls and some twenty, 1 know, will feel I think that a withering blossom is beauty ;

slighted think doing one's duty

I life's chief mission is ;

Six Ladies in all and there 's only one beau.

;
I think joy is transient and fame is a bubble ;

Though I 've thought of each man that the

I think all things earthly are mingled with
village can show.
trouble.
From the minister down to the barber's appren-
I '11 tell him my views, and I think I can show
tice, ,
Th.at each tempted young person should learu
And tlie lawyer's poor son, who is non compos to say " Js'o ;"
mentis.
And that Virtue on Folly can look wiih a
I if another young man were in town,
'm sure frown :

I shonld be most happy; but then Mr. Browu

Is so very pleasant
Yes, I '11 go and I think I shall please Mr.
Browu.
Jfrs. Dix. Matilda, the tarts
Need jelly ; the cookies, the rounds, and the Scene III.

hearts Francena Damahij (nola).

^liss
I 've set in the cupboard Yes. he will be there, and I think I shall go.
Matlltlii. Yes, mother ; I hear, Tliey s.iy he 's well read, and I 'm sure he will
I know all about them, bat one thing is clear know
333
 !
! :
; ; ;;

334 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZIXE,

What have endured, in this village a denizen,

I Though I really can scarcely find time to be-
With my passion for poetry, my worship of stow ;

Tennyson. Bnt I '11 take my work with me ; they say he

I wonder what style he prefers ? the Miltonic, is sensible,
Cold, calm, and serene, or the glowing Byrouic, And all indolence, surely, he 'd deem repre-
All tlirilling with feeling so wild, so delightful hensible.
Perliaps he likes Shelley but that would be The others may keep their hands folded while
frightful. chatting,
For I hav'n't readit I '11 ask if he 's seen ; I'll uork while I talk and get on with my tatten
Miss Edgeworth's last novel Miss Muloch's I For though tliey may flirt with the gay while
mean they 're tarrying,
I mix up names strangely ; we '11 speak of The woman a gentleman looks for, in marrying.
Longfellow, Is not some one that merely can dance and
We '11 talk about Shakspeare, the dusky embroider,
^ Othello, But a woman to keep (he whole household in
The fair Desdemona oh, that will be charming order.
The day will have moments well worthy em- Now, when I took tea there. Miss Earnaby's
balming 1 bread
I am sure I shall show, by my fine conversa- Was as vinegar sour, and as heavy as lead ;

tion, But 1111/ cooking 1 'd like to see piecrust that "s
1 have more general knowledge, more real in- wiiiter,
formation Or bread that is sweeter, or fresher, or lighter;
Than all of the other young ladies in town : And I could not keep count of the joints I have
Yes, I '11 go and I think I shall please Mr. roasted
Brown. In all houseliold aft'airs I am thoroughly posted
And though I'm not boastful, nor anxious to
Scene IV.
show it,
Sfiss hnhel Smith (sola). I 'm perfectly willing, I 'm sure, he should know
Yes, he will be there, and I think I shall go ;
it;

And I '11 wear my new dress though the neck And since practical thoughts must awake his
is so low, attention.
And my mother will think I should dress in It would only be fair to myself, Just to jnenlion,

another That I know sugar 's up, and that butter ia

Bat I say I wear it In spite of my mother

will I down
My mother is always afraid I shall hurt Yes, I '11 go and I think I shall please Mr.
Mrs. Grundy's opinion of me if I flirt I Brown.
It is always, dear though I scarcely have I Scene VL
met
With a soul in the village with whom to co- Jillss Susan Lanes (sola).
quette ;
Yes, he will be tliere, and I think I shall go;
But he will be there ('tis a terrible pity All the rest will be trying some graces to show.
My bracelet is broken, 1 want to look prettij), He will surely be shocked at that Smith girl's

And I '11 trifle with him till I meet with an- proceedings,
other. And what will he care for Miss Barnaby's read-
For I say I will flirt, just in spite of my mother ;
ings ?

And, really and truly, I don't care a copper And her sister he '11 think the absurdest and
If people do say my behavior 's improper. oddest
Though they say he is sober, I guess he can see Of creatures but I shall be shrinking and
some. modest
And, probably, he will be looking at me some ;
And I 've heard that a gentleman's higliest
And I am determined to wear my new gown : felicity ^

Yes, I 'U go and I think I shall please Mr. Is in mingling with ladies of charming sim-
Erovvn. plicity.
He, at least, will perceive I am quite unassum-
Scene V. ing,
J/7s.i IJannah Staples (sola). Like the daisies one finds in the meadow lands
Yes, he will be there, and 1 think I shall go, blooming
 ; ; ;

TUB TILLAGE WITH ON'E GEXTLEMAK. 335

And I 'II softly glauue up, and I 'U meekly look No bliss like communing with Byron and I'oe,
down : They seem, in their genius, of fate so defiant
Yes, I 'il go and I think I shall please Mr. And then I love, too, the calm measure of Bry-
Uiovvn. ant ;

And Shakspeare, I never should weary of

Scene Tit. reading
(Mrs. Dix's parlor. Company assembled.) And Milton, that poet all others exceeding
AJi&f Matihtu. I should love to have seen them, those bards
Pray, sir, do you find yourself comfortably of renown :

seated ? I am so fond of poetry aren't yon, Mr. Brown ?

And do take a fan, for the room is so lie.ited ;

[Mk. Brow.\ tries to speak.
'Tis tlie lirst time you 've mingled iu village JIi.-iS Susan Lanes.
society. I'm timid; I shrink from the world's ^airish
And to meet with a stranger is quite a variety. frown,
Miis hiibel Smith. And I cherish seclusion don't you, Mr. Brown ?

Yes, we 're glad you have come, just to break [.Mk. Bbow.s tries to speak.
the monotony ;

'Tis a place that 's good only for studying bot- Miss Isabel Smith and Miss Fraxcexa Bar-
hABY speak toyether.
any.
I am terribly sick of this miserable town : Miss fsahel Smith.
I think it is horrid don't you, Mr. Urown ? Well, I like the city. Oh, balls are entrancing !

[11k. Bkows tries to speak. For have an absolute passion for dancing
I I

AfiiiS Bttrnahi/, But, all of last winter, 1 had to sit waiting,

Kot horrid; I think it is wicked to grumble For there wasn't one beau just to take me out
I wish, for my part, to be tbouylitful and sk.atiug !

bumble ; \Vlien bought I my new skates, I was such a

I am sure it would be a most pleasant comma- great dunce !

Dity I should, reiilly, have liked to have tried them

If the people all lived hero iu quiet and unity ;
Just once.
Since from duty, so often, we 've all of us Jiliss Francena Samahj.
swerved, I don't care for skating; such noisy enjoy-
It is better, /"ar better than we have deserved. ments
J[//jw Hannah Staples. Don't please me as much as serener employ-
Yes, there are some things quite pleas.ant in ments ;

living up here ; I love to be bound by some writer's soft fetter

Kow one's eggs and one's butter are not half Miss Barnahj.
so dear Y^es, bound by a novel ; 'twere very much
As they are in. the cities below us I 'm told ;
better
And then they 're much better ; now father has If people read less, and thought very much
sold more.
A greatmany eggs at just ninepence a dozen J/iss Matilda Dix.
Mr. Joues bought them all, to send olT to his Mr. Brown, is there not a strong draft from that
cousin door ?

And I think that you cannot find milk iu the [Mn. Browx tries to speak.
town,
like the milk of the country do you, Mr. Miss F. Bahxabt, Miss H. Staples, and Miss
Brown ?
J. 6mitu ail speak tofjtther.

[Mb. Bbowx tries to speak. Miss Francena Eamahy.

tfiss Matilda Dix. Well, I own tb.it I like a good book to peruse
Is the room light enough ? I am really tujcer- Best of all things, unless 'tis to quietly muse
t.iin. O'er the pictures that spring under fanny's
If it ple.ases yon, sir, I will lift up the curtain. light touch.
J/T.-s Francena Uamahy. Though I never write poetry at least, sir, not
I, too, love the country. 'Mid tumult and much.
traffic, ^n>s n. staples.
One f.iils in the city to list the seraphic, Well, I do not read much ; I 'm not fond of
Melodious breathings of poetry. 1 kuotr rhyme.
27*
 ; ; ; ; ;

836 qodey's lady's book and magazine.

And tlie household affairs take up most of my I 've left both my gloves and my cane in their
time. hall.
Miss J. Smith. Five ladies, I think, to their homes I 've es-
Mr. Browu (oh, excuse me I), are you a rela- corted
tion Perliaps I can tell when my thoughts are as-
Of Miss Brown that lives down by the Notting- sorted
ham station ? I think there were five, I can count up no more.
She 's a very nice girl not so horribly pru- But I feel as though I had been home with a
dent score.
And they say she 's engaged to a Hanover Mrs. Vane.
student. Well, you take it, at least, with most doleful
Miss Barnahy. sobriety ;

I thinlf, until people are fairly united, You, at least, had a chance for the charm of
It is well not to say tliat their vows have been variety.
plighted Mr. Brown.
For hearts they are fickle, and students at Yes, madam ; five ladies in unison chattered ;

college Of all kinds of learning and knowledge they

Have often more classical learning than know- smattered.
ledge The}' glanced and they simpered, they smiled
Of wliat is becoming and they flattered,
Miss F. Barnalnj. Their words, like the rain in the thunder-storm
I think 'twould be pleasant pattered
If one, now and then, in tliis wearisome present, And one was domestic, and one was romantic,
'Mid people wliose liearts seem as frigid as zero, And one she was terribly stiff and pedantic,
Conld meet with some knightly and worshipful And one was excessively frisky and antic ;

hero. Between them, among them they 've driven

me frantic
Miss J. Smith, Miss II. Staples, Miss M. Dix, Pray, give me the camphor and let me lie down.
and Miss S. Laxes, all speak toyctlier.
Mrs. Vane.
Miss J. Smith. Oh, pray, take the rocking-chair, dear Mr.
dear a hero, I 'm tired of waiting
1 for Browu.
I'm content with a beau that will take me out I really am shocked at your dismal confession ;

skating Ihope that to-day will not leave an impression

In winter, and boating, perhaps, in the sum- To render your stay in the village less pleasant.
mer Mr. Broun.
1 don't mean a hint, though, at any new comer. Oh, madam, if some one would make me a
Miss U. Staples. present
These heroes, I think they are very unstable ; Of all of the village, its valleys and moun-
The woman that wins one will find lie 's unable tains,
Miss M. Dix. Its pastures and woodlands, its rivers and foun-
Mr. Brown (oh, young ladies, I owe an apolo- tains.
gy !), Its orchards of plenty, its meadows of grain,
We 've some very flue specimens here of ge- Its stores and its dwellings, I would not remain.
ology. Mrs. Vane.
Miss S. Lanes (nsich). Mr. Brown, I am sorry ; I 've done what I could.
I see I 'm unnoticed, at least by the guest Mr. Broten.
/meau to be noisy as well as the rest. bless you ! I know it ;
your heart is too good
To ever offend one, my dear Mrs. Vane ;

Scene VIII.
For your sake I would be most glad to remain.
(Mr. Brown's boarding-place. Tlie parlor.) The house work, like magic, beneath yonr di-
Mrs. Vane. rection.
You 've returned, Mr. Brown ; but you look Goes on, and my liuen 's done up to perfection.
rather weary ;
Such peace fills your dwelling that if I need
I 'm afraid that, by contrast, our rooms will never
look dreary. Pass over the threshold, I 'd stay here forever.
Mr. Brown. 1 leave you, indeed, with the truest of sorrow,
Look weary I I 'm glad to get back here at all But really I cannot stay over to-morrow
 THE MODERN CINDERELLA, ETC. 837

I Ml pitch mr lone tent by the waters of Marah ; I '11 roam where the lious and jackals will meet
I '11 dwell iu the midst of the saixly Suliara; me ;

1 '11 join the wild crowd wheu they '11 all over- I '11 go where the peojile will sit down and eat
look u\M ; nie ;

I '11 go where the sun is so hot it will cook Bnt never, so long as my name shall he Hrown,
me; Will I live as the only young man iu tlie town.

THE MODERN CIXDERKl.LA ; OR, THE BLUE-SPANGLED

SLllTER.
BT METTA VICTORIA VICTOR,

At r masked ball, given this past winter by ness ; and the ladies of the Princess were not
R wealthy family residing between Fourteenth long in discovering that the cloth, which en-
Street aud Central Park, amid the clash and circled bis high Tartarian cap, was of the most
sparkle of conflicting splendors, one lovely delicate kind that the shawl-goats of Thibet
vision floated serene. Her dress may have supply. Here and there, too, over his vest,
been intended to represent Sunrise, or the Star wliich was confined by a flowered girdle o(

of Dawn, or Morning, or any pretty fancy of the Kaslian, hung strings of fine pearl, disposed
early day. A large star, formed of a magnifi- with an air of studied negligence ; nor did tlio

cent diamond, set in .a circle of silver points, exquisite embroidery of his sandals e.scape the
glittei-ed over her brow as for the gold of sun-
; observation of these fair critics, who, however

rise, nature had furnished that in a fleecy they might give way to Fadladeen upon the
cloud of shining curls. The rest of her dress miimportanttopiosof government aud religions,
was a roseate, misty robe floating over a rich had the spirit of martyrs in everything relating
blue underdress. However, it was not her to such momentous matters as jewels aud em-
attire, though that was indescribably aerial broidery."
and graceful in its effect, which attracted atten- This modern Feraraorz seemed in every way
tion. It was the evident youth and beauty of the fit representative of the poet-prince in dis-
the wearer, who, thoutjh her face was concealed, guise ; bis figure was fine, and his manners
betrayed those charms in her fresh complexion, full of the grace of high culture. That the
in the exquisite contour of chin, throat, and expression of his countenance was hidden by
shoulders; in the bare round arms, dimpled as his mask was not suflicient to conceal the sort
a chilli's, in the brightness of her hair, and of infatuation which the sight of the lovely
still more in her movements. That a beauti- unknown inspired in him. A hundred trifling
ful face must accompany these was inevitable ;
gestures spoke as eloquently as words. When
and it was in human nature that the necessity her hand met his in the dance, it was almost
for guessing at the precise character of its impossible for him to resist the desire to press
beauty enhanced the interest of beholders. it to his lips in the purest homage but he was ;

To have so much revealed and so much kept too scrupulous of the proprieties on the occa-
back was maddening to the curiosity of some sion of a private masquerade to allow his
of the more susceptible cavaliers who hung feelings to tempt him to infringe the strictest
upon her steps. If the seraphic star floating rules. For one thing be waited with fiery im-
about in her pink cloud was at all susceptible patience for supper, wheu the etiquette of the
of human must have been flattered
vanity, she ball required that all masks should be removed.
by the constant appeals for her hand in the He hovered continually about the Star, that
dance, and by the attentive suite of courtiers he might follow her to the supper-room, and be
who followed her from room to room. Among near her wheu the full light of her beauty
those so favored as to have had the felicity of dawned upon the scene. Presently she seemed
dancing with her whose movements were like conscious of his watchfulness, and to make an
those of the breeze or clouds, was a young effort to For a short time he lost
escape him.
man dressed in the costume of Feramorr, the her; be was uneasy, unhappy. The signal for~
poet whose kitar bewitched the soul of Lalla supper had half emptied the ball-room he ;

Rookh in her journey through the vale of Cash- hurried through the parlors, the little boudoir
mere. Thisdress, it will be remembered, "was at the end of the larger apartment, out into
simple, yet not without some marks of costli- the hall, looked up and down the stairs aud
338 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE,

flower-wreathed corridors, just in time to see a
figure,enveloped in a long black cloak and
hood, stealing unattended out the front door.
It might have passed for some nun or friar to
an ordinary observer but the keen eyes of ;
off Broadway, along Prince Street to the west,
finally bringingup before a rather dilapidated
three story brick on Sullivan. The house did
not seem to be a tenement house, and the lo-
cality, though shabby, was not at all disreput-

Feramorz were not to be deceived. Something able.

in the step, and then a half glimpse of a span- Just as Cjesar brought his horses around on
gled blue slipper convinced him that his morn- to this street, the first carriage drove off; Fera-
ing star was setting forever, unless he boldly morz saw the door of the house open, as if the
followed in pursuit of the fair masquer who comer had been looked for there was a faint
;

thus strangely glided from the ball, alone, and gleam of gasiiglit from the hall, the door was
obviously to escape the necessity of revealing shut and all was dark. Springing out, he ran
her identity. up the steps and took the number of the place
Hardly had the door closed after her when it by the light of the carriage-lamps it was all :

was again thrown open, and he sprang out on he could do. He felt surprised, ashamed, almost
tlie pavement in time to see the cloaked figure suspicious, and doubtful if he should pursue
take refuge in a plain, close carriage, wliich the adventure further when, returning down
;

was driven rapidly away. Heedless of the the steps, he saw something glittering on the
fact that he had no cloak to cover his fine sidewalk, and picked up a spangled blue slipper.
array, and that tlie night was chilly, Feramorz, Tliis little silken article, its white satin lin-
guitar in hand, looked about him for some ing yet warm with the foot which had worn it,
means of following the fugitive. As it was too thrilled him all over with joy. It brouglit
early for the masqueraders to be leaving, only back to him, as vividly as if he still clasped her
two or three carriages were drawn up in the hand in the dance, the whole aspect of the
vicinity, and these of course were waiting for beautiful unknown the purity which seemed
;

their legitimate occupants. Here was a dilem- to emanate light from her the freshness of ;

ma. However, in the colored person who was youth and innocence in the complexion, in the
nodding on the seat of one of these, he recog- manners the girlish music of the voice which
;

nized the .coachman of a friend, and resolved had ventured a few "low replies" to his en-
to press him into the service. deavors to draw her into conversation. With
"Hallo, Ca3sar ! wake up! I want you to this in his hand, he bade Caesar drive back,
follow that lady that coach, mean, which I while he relapsed into a dream over the lost
has just driven oB'" and he sprang inside. slipper from which he hardly cired to he aroused
"Tank you, massa, I isn't a hack," replied by his return to the masquerade. Thrusting
C;esar, majestically. " Dis 'stablishment be- it beneath the " vest confined by a flowered

longs to missus, and you 'd bettah git out, giidle of Kashan," he removed his mask, and
quick." resumed his place in the gay company.
"Pshaw, I know your mistress and
C<es.ar ! When Philip Van Pearse attended his lady
you, too. 'm Philip Van Pearse. Mrs. Flow-
I mother to their liome, when the masquerade
erdelis would be happy to oblige me with the was among the things which were, and the
loan of her carriage a few moments, if slie knew garments of Feramorz were cast weariedly over
I wanted it. She has just gone to supper, and a modern chair, the silver spangles rose and
will not require it for an hour j'et. Come, my fell with his breast, as he dreamed a kaleido-

boy, keep up with them, and I '11 give you a scope dream of tlie ball ending with the rise of
dollar." the Star of Dawn, the light from whose eyes
Caesar felt a gold coin (don't be incredulous ;
fell on him like sunshine, warming him through

Feramorz most likely brought it witli him from and tlirough with their thrilling power.
that magic oriental country where gems and In fact the sun was rather too bright upon
gold still circulate at par) presseil into his hand his face as he sprang out of bed at about eleven
through the little window beside him, and o'clock A. M., remembering, as he went to his
overcome by the bribe, started his fine pair of breakfast, that to-day he was to be at the Hud-
coal-black steeds after the retreating vehicle, son River Railroad Depot at a little before three _
which, to the young man's surprise, kept on to welcome and escort to his mother's a young Hj
its way down town until far past all fashionable lady tliiid cousin of his, whom he had not seen
quarters. since she was a little girl, but with whose
"Perhaps it is going to some of the hotels," parents Mrs. Van Pearse had spent the montli
lie thought. Eat no ; it kept on until it turned of August, and who was returning the hcspi-
 THE MODEBN* CTKDERELLA,
talityshown ber hy a cordial invitation to the
daughter to come and enjoy some of the gaye-
ties of citv winter life.
He iuwanlly voted it a nuisance that he
shonM l>e obliged to play the polite attendant,
through the very best part of the season, to a
little country girl aud now he felt positively
; most of its neighbors. He was somewhat con-
oat of humor to think that lie must go to the
depot, when his mind was bent in another
direction. He had resolved to call at the three
story brick on Sullivan Street, on one pretence
or another, and find out who lived there.
was naturally bold and da.shing in his actions,
and now, fortified by the slipper, which at
worst he could make an excuse out of,
ing to return it to the owner, he was bent upon
satisfying his eager curiosity.
He felt quite relieved when told
mother, who came to him at his solitary break-
fast to make the announcement, that the ex-
pected guest had arrived by an early train, and
was now in her room, resting after her jouniey.
"Be sure and retnrn to lunch," added
Van Pearse, when she saw he was going
"Annie's a sweet girl; I know you
her; and she 's rather sensitive, aud might feel
liurt you were not here to welcome her."
if
" I 've no doubt she 's sugar itself, mother
de.ar, you praise her so much but I shall not
: serves us 1"
w.int any Innch, after breakfasting at this
hour, and I have an engagement which will
keep me until dinner time. Make my excuse
to Miss Sumner, if yon please, ma chere mire."
And the wilful son harried olT.
Not that he was usually disrespectful to his
mother, or nnamiable to any one Philip was ;
rather above the average of his cl.ass of young
men in moral and mental qualities but he had ; sence."
been told that this Annie Sumner would not
be a bad match for himself, inasmuch as she
was pretty, and educated, and the heir to any
number of acres whose western boundary was
defined by the lordly Hudson, and upon which
a castle aud other improvements already stood.
Mrs. Van Pearse had seemed charmed with
this young relative, and for almost the first
time in her life had suggested to her son that
she should contemplate a matrimonial alliance
with satisfaction. Of course, this had the op-
posite effect from the one wished. Philip had
been too much flattered to be pleasfl with the
idea that it was going to be a good thing for
him to meet this young lady it might be a
good thing for her, if he should happen to be
pleased, which was not at all probable, etc.
etc., with the abominable masculine self-con-
ceit, so much worse than feminine vanity.
ETC. 339
The first stage which passed the corner took
Philip down town, witliin convenient walking
distance of Sullivan Street. A few minntes
laterhe was pounding away at the old-fashioned
brass knocker of the brick house, which he saw
by the daylight to be more neatly kept than
fused when the door w.as opened by a silver-
haired Quaker woman of the most sedate and
respectable type of the middle class of society.
He made a profound bow.
He "Excuse me, madam, but yonr daughter,
who was at Mrs. Jonquil's fancy ball last night,
lost"
as wish- " I have no daughter and, if I had, she
;
would not go to the world's balls. Thoa must
be mistaken, young man."
by his "The young lady who boards or resides with
yon. She lost an article of dress which I
should be most happy to return to her."
" There is no young woman in this house.
Perhaps thee is mistaken in the number," aud
Mrs. she began gently to close the door.
out. "No, no," uttered Philip, hurriedly; "this
will like is the place. I saw her come in, and took the
nnmber. Are you the only occupants of the
house ?"
"John, and I, and the handmaiden who
The handm.aiden ! He thought of Cinderella.
He was so sure of what he had seen that he
stretched out his hand to prevent the closing
of the door.
"This servant of yours. Perhaps she is the
one I am in search of."
" Here she cometh from the grocery store.
If thou speak with her, let it be in my pre-
He looked, and saw a stoat, chubby German
girlcoming np, her bare red arms loaded with
brown paper parcels. The ridiculousness of
his fancy that that ethereal creature whom he
had touched on her flight, might have been
given to cinders and servitude, and of the whole
of his proceedings smote him forcibly. He
bowed hastily to the Quaker dame, and with a
crimson face hurried off, without waiting to try
his slipper on the fat foot of Christina.
Here was mystery. He could have persuaded
himself that the whole scene of the previous
night had been an illusion, were it not for the
tangibility of the blue silk and spangles, which
gave great warmth and protection to his breast
from the winter air, by being placed in the in-
side pocket of his overcoat. He would not be
bafSed as long as there was anything more to
be done. He went to Mrs. Jonquil's to pay his

3-iO GODEY S LADY'S BOOK AXD MAGAZIKE.
respects, and to ask herif she knew what one
of her guests it was who wore the diamond
star. Mrs. Jonquil replied that she did not
that she herself had been eurious to ascertain
who it was, but that she did not see her at
supper nor after. Then he asked if she had
friends iu Sullivan Street. She stared at him,
as if doubting his sanity, and said ''No" very
decidedly. Mr. Van Pearse had a mind to tell
her what had caused him to ask the question
but in view of her great gift for disseminating
useful knowledge, he concluded to retain his
secret.
Certainly, it was strange. No one could have
been admitted without a card. The dress of
the fair unkuown was as costly as it was be-
coming. The diamond forming the centre of
the star was of itself a little fortune. For such
a star to set in Sullivan Street Philip went
I in refined and delicate repartee but he found
home, so busy with conjecture that he had
forgotten the existence of their guest, until he
entered the house. The sable servant who
took his overcoat and hat in the hall sug-
gested : girl had powers to win love and admiration
" Massa bettah step up to liis room and
brush hisself. Dar 's verij nice young lady in
de parlor."
Philip gave a little scornful laugh but, ; found at last. That he did not fully appreciate
nevertheless, sprang np the stairs two at a
time, and made a ratlier careful toilet.
" Really," he observed to himself iu the mir-
ror, " where Hannibal condescends to admire,
my judgment will, doubtless, approve. He's
no mean critic of the people who honor this
mansion by their company. He 's quite a con-
noisseur of female beauty and dress, though
he likes a little too much style."
Putting on an air of cordiality to atone for
his late appearance, he descended to the draw-
ing-room, and was introduced to his very remote
relative, Annie Sumner. The perceptible curi-
osity in the eyes of tliese two, who had heard
so much of each other, gave place, in his at
least, to pleasure and admiration. His antici-
pated trial of being compelled to do the dutiful
to a country cousin melted into the possibility
that iie might even be proud of the task.
She had that air of parity and seclusion that
violets always wear a freshness, a fairness
; him feel uncomfortable. Tliere was a goodi
indescribable, unmarred by baslifulness. She
met his glance with a full, quiet look not in the
least timid only maidenly. An abundance of
bright wavy hair, the loveliest complexion of
and roses, a sweet mouth, sweeter eyes-
lilifs
Philip was charmed. As he looked at her,
she reminded him of the beautiful unknown.
Her complexion and hair were of the same
;
order. She was not so perfect oh no ; Her !
face had not that dazzling perfection which he
had no doubt was bidden under that detestable
mask. That seraphic being had fairly floated
upon the air, so light was her step, so aerial
her motions, while this lovely guest was only
quietly graceful and fair. If it had not been
for the blue slipper, he might have been more
delighted than he was tJiat had woven about
;
;
him such a blinding tissue of splendor that
he could no longer see clearly into everyday
matters.
During the dinner and the pleasant evening
at home which followed, Philip was forced to
make himself agreeable by the piqueing spirit
and vivacity of their guest. He was surprised
at the wit hidden within her sweetness like a
bee in the heart of a rose he prided himself
;
;
in her his match. There was an archness in
her laughter which was enchanting. He no
longer wondered at his mother's liking, nor at
the enthusiasm of sable Hannibal the young ;
freely. Overtlowing with the happiness of
youth and health, unspoiled by the follies of
fashionable life here was his ideal maiden
her was owing to the infatuation which had
taken possession of him.
" It is really too bad that you were not in
town sooner, " he remarked among other things.
" We should have been so pleased to have
taken you to Mrs. Jonquil's masquerade last
night. It was a very successful affair for one
of the kind. I should have thought, mother,
that you would have written to hasten Miss
Sumner's visit."
" Your mother was telling me about it before
you came home. It must have been charming.
I understand that the Vale of Cashmere con-
tributed to the array of guests a young poet,
the sweetness of whose kitar bewitched the
souls of all the veiled beauties who listened. I
should, indeed, have liked the privilege of
hearing him."
The mirthful side glance which shot through
him from Annie's eyes, as she said this, made
deal more in her look than in her words. It,
would almost seem as if she had known or sus-'
pected what a fool he had made of himself.
I
Ten days flew by. Never was there a man
more agitated by conflicting sentiments tlian
Philip. He was charmed with his Cousin (haa I
had got so far as to call her cousin) Annie. I
 THE MODERN* CINDERELLA, ETC. 3-il

When in her presence lie was sure that he was mother and Hanni-
in vain he questioned his
getting madly in lore with her. But as soon as bal as to how So
the package had arrived.
he W.1S alone in his room, out came the little many brown paper parcels had come home the
and he lost
slipper from his inside coat pocket, previous day by so many diflerent errand boys,
himself in dreams over the unknown, exquisite Hannibal could recollect nothing especial.
being whom it was impossible for him to forget. One ray of hope streamed over his mystifica-
He dared not speak to .Aimie of love, for he tion. Invitations were out for another fancy
was morally certain that if any chance threw ball to come oil' New Year's Eve. The success
the loser of the slipper in his way, he should of Mrs. Jonquil's had been such as to tempt
yield to her iutlaeuce, even if pliglited to an- Mrs. DaU'odil to follow with another. His ex-
other. pectation w.as that the fair unknown would be
There was a fine struggle between imagina- present again, when he trusted to wit and de-
tion and reality. On the one hand, mystery, termination to discover who she was, and to
novelty, adventure, to excite his fancy to the get a sight of that beautiful countenance whose
utmost ; on the other, the actual presence of lovely possibilities haunted him. He gave a
the sweetest, brightest of girls, whose silvery great deal of thought to his costume. Of course,
laughter, flashes of wit, delicious singing, and it must not be the same as before. Finally he
transient tears, to say nothing of an occasional concluded to go as the Prince, carrying around
rosy blush, certainly ought to have got the with him the slipper, vowing to marry the
phantom of a single night.
belter of that flitting Lady whose foot it would fit. His mother and
Ten days brought Cliristmas. Santa Claus Annie were going but they would not confide
;

visited the grown-up children at Mrs. Van to him the characters they intended to assume.
Pearse's. It is needless to enumerate the vari- He received the impression, however, that
ous pretty and expensive gifts which Annie Annie was going as a Shepherdess.
fonnd beside her plate on Christmas morning. " I thought she had more originality," was
Some of these came from home, some from her hia mental comment. " She will look very
aunt, and one a magnificent, perfume-exhal- fair and pretty but I can't endure these milk-
;

ing bouquet, in a costly jewelled holder she and-water characters."

gtiessed at once came from Philip. As for him, So Annie's star sank, while that of the un-
he had his usual allowance of smoking-caps, known was in the ascendant. Tlie ladies were
slippers, etc., and a little paper parcel, which engrossed with company and the preparation of
he proceeded to untie very leisurely, as he their costumes ; Philip paid them only so much
sipped his coffee. Annie chanced to be looking attention they needed Mrs. Van Pearse
as ;

at him, and saw the crimson flush mount to could see no evidences in the yonng couple of
his face as he caught sight of the gift inside ; the state of feeling she had wished and antici-
but whatever it was, he hastily rolled it up pated.
again, and thrust it into his pocket. Mrs. DitfTodil's ball was ns superb as Mrs.
"You ought to let us see all your presents, Jonquil's. The Prince, with the blue-spangled
Cousin Philip." slipper in his hand, went around in search of
" Perhaps the giver wotild object." It was his Cinderella. He had not been long in the
well for him to give her to understand that she rooms before he recognized, or thought he did,
had not his full confidence it might tend to ; the lady of whom he was in search. This time
check hopes which might be destined to disap- she was dressed, if possible, more exquisitely
pointment. than before. Her dress was that of a water
After this he grew stupid for the rest of the sprite
a transparent silvery tissue waving over
meal, losing his appetite, owing to putting j
a pale sea-green robe, lilies in her hair and
powdered sugar on his hashed potatoes, and i
trailing in the crystal waves of her tunic.
salt on his waffles. As soon as he could de- Philip was enraptured. Again he solicited her
cently be excused from the table, he stole up hand for the dance ; when
it was over, he led

to his room to compare notes. The mate of the her to a retired seat in the embrasure of a win-
blne-sp.ingled slipper was in the brown paper dow, and with a meaning air begged her to try
p.arcel He put them together. He had a pair
I the slipper.
DOW. She must have sent it to him ! Oh, tor- "It is the sandal of a seraphic star," he
menting and delicious perplexity She knew I said, in a warm whisper; "but I know that it

him not as Feramorz only, but his real name will fit the foot of Undine as well. Alas ! I

and address, as was proved by her sending cannot swear that I will marry you, you can
if

him this reminder. wear it, for ladies will not be taken, even by
 " .

84:2 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

princes, now-a-days, without their own con- He endeavored to keep his voice quite care-
sent,and you might make me hreak my oath. less 1 but it betrayed a tremble of conscious-
But if I dared to hope if I dared to say ness.
She put up her hand deprecatiugly she ;
" Yes, I was quite pretty."
noticed it. It

would not listen to the impassioned words "Quite It was delicious

pretty, indeed!
wliich trembled upon his lips but he rushed ; original I wish you had chosen some such
I

on impetuously : poetical conceit. Cousin Annie, instead of th.at

" I cannot refrain ; my heart is too full. I humdrum shepherdess, with her everlasting
have thought of nothing else, especially since crook."
you proved that you took smne interest in me, " Your compliment is rather a crook-ed one,
by sending me the mate to this slipper. Only Mister Philip. I 'm sorry that I did not plea:-e

promise to let me know you hereafter without your taste more, seeing your devotion would
this disguise, to give me a chance to prove the have rewarded any trouble I might have takeu.
impression you have made. Make me happy However, I could never hope to be so alluring
by going with me to supper, and allowing me as your Undine, do what I might." She
to behold that face ofwhich I have dreamed for laughed, gayly evidently she was not jealous,
;

a whole maddening fortnight." or she would not be so good-humored.

The f.iir bosom, nestled in water-lilies not so Philip's vanity w.ts just enough piqued to
white, heaved, but whether with emotion, or save him from tlie despair into which he was
suppressed laughter, it was impossible for him settling. He would see if he could not arouse
to tell. Presently she answered, in a low a little spark of feeling out of this gay iudiifer-
voice : ence.
"Feramorz h.as indeed turned out to be the Yes though more than ever convinced that
;

Prince in disguise. had been Lalla Rookh,

If 1 he should never love Annie, he was ungenerous
I should consent to put on the slipper. Seek enough to seek to interest her in him. These
me after supper, noble Prince, and if you find efforts of his went on from day to day. The
me, 1 will accede to your request." more miserable he became brooding over his
So saying, she glided from him. lie was passion for the mocking vision which had
resolved not to lose sight of her an instant, for evaded him, the more he sought to divert his
something in her answer suggested tliat she uuhappiuess by trifling with his gentle cousin.
intended escaping before midnight. However, He read love-breathing poetry to her in the
as yet, he had not detected Annie, and seeing mornings when they were alone together twice ;

a shepherdess in the distance, he made his way or thrice he had pressed her hand once he had ;

towards her. This sliepherdess had black hair, kissed a ringlet of the bright hair which rippled
and was it was not Annie, and when he
tall ; down about her throat. The feeling which
turned to keep near the water-sprite, slie had had urged liim to this last action was the re-
already disappeared. While he was striving to semblance her hair had to that of the fair un-
trace her in the crowd, his mother, in turban known but how could Annie guess this, as
;

and jewels, arrested him, detaining him some she blushed at the deed, her soft blue eyes
time in attendance xipon her. drooping beneath his glance ?
Alas he saw no more of his Undine. H&U
! Thus the weeks rolled round until the time
frantic with disappointment, he could hardly of her visit had expired. Gladly as she would
be civil when the two ladies descended from have prolonged it at the earnest solicitation of
the dressing-room, wrapped up in their cloaks, Mrs. Van had other reasons for,
Pearse, she
ready to be escorted liome. He was in the car-
riage with tliem before he realized how neglect-
declining to do so. Maiden delicacy prompted
her to fly from Philip, who might think that
~ I
ful lie had been of Annie the masquerade was ; she lingered under the spell of his influence.
over, and he could not tell what dress she wore, One day his manner would be cold and con-
who had been polite to her, or whether she strained another, he would be all devotion,
;

had enjoyed herself. saying and looking a thousand things, which,

Half ashamed, he ventured to ask her if the to her, all unversed in hollow flatteries or worse
ball had equalled her expectations. She avowed coquetries, seemed to mean much, setting her
lierself quite contented with lier share of the heart in a glow, bringing the richest light and
pleasure ; said she had danced all she wished, color to her f:ice. Could Philip, man of the
and had not been neglected. world as he was, see all this and not be to
" Did you notice tliat delicate and unique blame, if he were only amusing himself?
costume the Undine ?" The evening preceding her departure came.


THE MODERN CINDERELLA, ETC. 343

Her trunks stood iu the liall, ready strapped earnestly. " Do you know, I fancied you had
for tlie journey. The three sat iu the lihrary, an attachment for some other lady ?"
denied to guests, wishiug to spend the last "Well, I hardly knew my own feelings,"
evening together, as Annie intended to retire stammered he, " until to-night. When I le-
early, having to arise early in the morning. alized your going away, it seemed as if the
"The house will be intolerable after you are sunshine had gone out of everything."
gone !" said Philip, suddenly, with one of "How about the stiirli(/ht?" she asked, ro-
those bursts of excitement peculiar to him. guishly, her smothered dimples breaking out
"Mother, why don't you persuade Annie to of their hiding-places.
stay here always ?" "I h.<ive come to the conclusion that every-
" Why don't /persuade her?
should like I day sunlight is the best thing to live with," he
RQch a daughter very much but Providence ; answered, after a moment's embarrassment.
denied me one and I presume her parents
;
" Do not torment me, Annie let me know my ;

!"
would have something to say against my rob- fate at once
biug me of theirs." WhenMrs. Van Pearse came back into the
Mrs. Van Fearse was going out of the room library, her children sat hand in hand the ;

as she said this. Both the young people co- blushes of one, and the triumphant joy of the
lored at the first part of her answer. Annie other face told her how matters had progressed.
took up a book, and pretended to be absorbed It was arranged that Annie should defer her

io an engraving, Philip sat and looked at her. departure one day, to enable Philip to make

She teas lovely most dearly lovable Would ! re.idy to go home with her, and gain the consent
it not "pay better" to make sure of this living of her parents to their betrothal.
treasure before him this bona Jicle incarnation The nest morning a note came to him by the
of love and sweetness than to pnrsue the city courier. On a dainty sheet of paper was
mysterious stranger any longer ? llij had not written daintily :

dreamed that he should miss her so much ;

Feeamorz: Bring my blue-spangled slippers
but now he could not bear the idea of the house
Sullivan Street this evening, at eight
to
as it would be to-morrow, with no Annie in it.
o'clock. I want them. Star.
That arch laughter, those light footsteps, that
fair face
how they had lighted up everything This note agitated Philip more than he dared
with a new charm It came upon him sud-
! to confess. Why had it been sent just when
denly, that life would be a blank, if he should it was too late to make him happy ? But was
see them no more. What a daughter she would he not happy ? the most blessed and happiest
be for his mother What a wife she would be
! of men ? Had he mistaken the feelings which
ior him Wife! the word sounded sweet as
1 only an hour before seemed so intense and
he applied it to the fair girl before him, whose real? Would there be any danger in meeting
face bent lower and lower over her book, until her who had interested his imagination only ?

her ringlets, down-sweeping, hid it from sight. He glanced over at Annie, whose tender blue
Mrs. Van Pearse had some errand which de- eyes sank beneath liis own. No he could !

tained her her son forgot to wonder why she
did not come back.
"Annie!"
She did not look up he bent over and took
the book away, when he saw tears in the eyes
which she forced herself to raise to his.
" Are you sorry to go away ?"'
"I want to see my dear parents, of course.
Cousin Philip but I like your mother so much
; cluded to make a call or two, with Hannibal
I feel grieved to part with her."
meet Venus herself, fortified with the memory
of that blush and smile.
" It 's high time the slippers were returned,"
; he thought, as he buttoned his coat about them
for the last time, preparatory to his long ride
down town. His mother and cousin, upon
hearing that he had an engagement which
would keep him out all the evening, had con-
and the carriage .and they had been gone an
;

"Is it my moth^, alone, whom yon like, hour when he left.

Annie ? I hope not. If I only ventured to A little whirlwind of conflicting emotions
think you could like her boy a little, too, I raised a great dust amid the dried and with-
would ask permission to go home with you, ered sentiments which had once been so green,
and see what your parents had to say about it." as be thumped on the brass knocker again at
" I never thought you cared much for me, the three-story brick house. The fat German

Philip" the hand he had taken possession of handmaid admitted him to the prim parlor.
was half-withdrawn, and her eyes searched his As he entered, there arose from the sofa the
VOL. LSVII. 28
84:4 godey's lady's book and magazine.

only occupant of the room

the same lovely Her only fear was that Aunt Rachel would not
vision which he had once pursued hither, in consent to any such worldly proceeding as the
the identical dress, and masked as before. preparation for a ball however, she would
;

Dazzled and overcome, he stood still, saying try to win her over to it. Mrs. Van Pearse
nothing. His faith with Annie bound his feet, had sent her cariiage to the depot to see
her
but he felt a rush of the same maddening feel- guest safely to Uncle Hooker's had made the ;

ings whicli the vision had before inspired. acquaintance of the Quaker couple, and repre- i
"Feramorz," said a voice, very low and ten- sented that Annie would go to this private party
der, "I have concluded to let you try the under her protection and auspices, and would
slippers." return home very early.
"Too late !" cried Philip, tragically. " I am Aunt Rachel, who made a pet of Annie, was
pledged to another Ah, why did you not
! not very difficult to persuade. Mrs. Van Pearse
sooner summon me to your presence ?" And went to her friend, Mrs. Jonquil, and procured
he made a motion as if he would tear his hair. another card of admission her own carriage
I
;

" Do you regret it, then ? Ah, Prince, you took Annie to the party, and Hannibal had
are very fickle." especial orders to come at twelve and return
Something in the tones of the voice appeared her safely to Sullivan Street. Tlie diamond
curiously familiar to him. Bewildered and star was formed of some of Mrs. Van Pearse's
agitated, imable longer to restrain his over- own jewels.
mastering curiosity, he stepped hastily forward,- Keeping up the deception was an after-
and tore the mask from its wearer. thought. When Annie found herself pursued
" Annie Sumner !" by Philip, whose identity his mother had re-
"Yes, Philip. Would you like to see if the vealed to her, she was delighted with the success
slippers fit ?" of their little romance the slipper was pur-
;

The golden ripple of laughter which broke posely left on the step. The next morning
on his ears restored him to his senses. He Mrs. Van Pearse sent early for her ; they ex-
seized her in his arms, giving her more kisses pected that Philip would recognize her when
than she thought proper. they met, and a gay laugh would be the end of
" I can't help it, you little deceitful witch I the affair. She cautioned Aunt Hooker before
I 'm so glad that I 'm only in love with one she left, if any young gentleman called, with a
woman after all I 've been troubled more
! blue slipper, which she had lost, not to give
than a little by thinking myself in love with him any information ; and the good lady em-
two." phatically consented, not thinking such an
Then, to complete his astonishment, entered errand strictly proper.
his own mother along with the Quaker dame When it was seen that he did not recognize
and her husband John. the Star of Dawn in his country cousin, it was
"My Aunt and Uncle Hooker," said the concluded to watch him, and see how much of
Morning Star. a simpleton he was going to make of himself.
In a short time all the mystery of the affair The two ladies had a great deal of amusement,
had been explained away. Mrs. Van Pearse, which their victim did not suspect. The pre-
who had a touch of the romance more fully de- sent of the slipper on Christmas continued the
veloped in her son, had conceived the idea of mystery. It was quite easy, at the second
having the young people meet under some masquerade, to keep him from recognizing his
striking circumstance which would be apt to cousin. As for her, she began to feel troubled
fix their interest. The invitations to the fancy at the serious air heput on, and was tempted
ball gave her an idea of how this could be then to betray herself to him, thinking that
effected. The only difficulty was in getting would put an end to his fancied passion but, ;

Annie to the city in time to have her dress iu the meanwhile, she, too, had become in-
prepared, but without her meeting Philip. volved beyond extrication. Oh, if he should
When she wrote to her about it, she asked her think that she had done it on purpose to try and
if she had no friends with whom she could stop entrap him, she should be so mortified as never
for a couple of days. Annie replied that she had to wish to see him again.
an uncle and aunt, old-fashioned people, living Her aunt, quite satisfied with her little ro-
iu the same house in the city in which they mance, told her to let him fin3 it out when the

went to housekeeping thirty years before that ; best opportunity occurred there was no haste
she had visited them once or twice before, and about it.
loved them dearly, despite their quaintness. " How could you make up your mind to
 " " ; ;

TH0UGKT3 ON THE PAST. POETKY. 345

declare yourself to a humdrum shepherdess f "Sad was the parting hour!" We did not
a? ked Annie, maliciously, as they sat partaking know till then the depth of the affection we
of the apples, nuts, and cider, which kind Aunt had surrounded us. We like to
to those that
Kachel brought forth for their entertainment. linger on the past, and wish it over again but ;

" If I M only had the taste and originality of

it has goue
gone forever At first we thought !

an Undine we could not stay from home we could not ;

"You hav'n't tried on the slipper yet," he get along without the help and guidance of
said, to change the subject. "Come, let us all those we had been accustomed to look to but ;

see if you are the true Cinderella. when ^e had fresh duties to perform, and new
companions to associate with, we felt reconciled
to the separation. Though resigned, how we
THOUGHTS ON THE PAST. longed for the time when we should once more
"What happy days were our childhood's join the home circle ! Perhaps many such
days never were we so happy as then how-
! I seasons have gone by to most of my readers ;

joyous and light-hearted no care or sorrow- ! and how do we feel now, when returning to the
seemed to cross our path." These, and such home of our childhood for a short time to have
similar words weoften hear from our friends sweet converse with all the dear ones there ?

and companions. Is it not true J Is not the We cannot too highly prize our home ; for we
pleasing remembrances of our childhood's as- do not know how long it may be home to us.

sociations, companions, and even pastimes, Let us, then, cherish those we love, lest they
fixed on our minds, never to be forgotten ? How be snatched from us by the icy finger of death,
well we remember the time when our hearts no more to be seen in this world. Some of us
would beat with joy to see the merry faces of may have parted from them forever no, not
our school-fellows, and join in their ringing forever, forthey are waiting to welcome us
laugh How we longed to enjoy a skip, or a
! where parting will be no more.
toss of the ball, with them I And then, when
our irksome stndies were over (as we tliought
them), how happy we were to throw our hooks I SEE THEE WHEN THE TWILIGHT
on one side and hasten home to the loved ones FOLDS.
there !
BT USA.
Those were happy days for could we not ;
I 8BB thee when the twilight folds
tell our mother of all our childish griefs and Its robes of silver gray,
sorrows ? and, when we fancied danger was an angel's downy wing,
Soft as

near us, how safe we felt near her and how ;

Above the sleeping day ;

-When silence broods o'er land and sea,

carefully shewatched over us Happy, happy !

My heart flies fondly back to thee.

childhood! I fancy I hear some say, "Though
we were under the parental roof, we had our Love oft rebels 'gainst fate's decree,
Though duty bade us part,
griefs even then." True, we had. How many Bade each to walk life's weary way
of us, when children, have had to grieve over a With a divided heart
sick parent how noiselessly we moved about,
; And twilight oft brings back the past
fearing to make their pains more acute, and The happy hours too bright to last.
how relieved we were when told they were When, borne on memory's airy wings,
better we felt, then, as if we could jump for
; My thoQghts go back to thee,
joy. But how often has our loved circle been I know that twilight to thee brings
Thoughts of the past and me;
broken by death How sad we felt when our
I

It brings the words so fraught with pain

pet, the cherished playmate, the sunshine of
To both We may not meet again.
:

our home, was laid in the cold, dark grave !

* And though bitter is the thoQght,

yet,
These, indeed, were times of sorrow but we ;
Perhaps 'twas best to part,
look upon them as light, compared to what Ere cold distrust had banished love.
they have been since. Or time had chilled the heart
Time sped on. School-days were over our ;
For now we only know we meet
schoolmates were separated far and wide. TVe, To love, to part, but not forget.
too, must leave the parental roof to join in the When twilight's sombre shadows creep
busy turmoil of t*ie world. What preparation, O'er life's declining day.

ivliat advice from our friends, what tears were

When barst oar souls their prison-doors.
And break their bands of clay,
shed over us when the time came for us to hid
At last united may we soar
iaren-ell to all most dear at home !
Through worlds of light for evermore.
 '

346 GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZHSTE.

THE FATAL BRIDEGROOM. body. Poor young man how desolate he 1

must be !"
BY M. E. D.
"Don't pity him, madam," said the parson,
The other day, when
I were riding wife and looking mysteriously around him " she was a,4
3,-A ;

to town do up a few odd chores for the family,

to victim of neither cholera nor consumption.
who sliould we see walking along the road but And what is stranger yet," he continued, low-
Dr. Smith, the very parson that married our ering his voice, "it is not the first case of the3
Jeremiah to Farmer Dobbs' gal. kind that has occurred in the bridegroom's*
" Hello, parson !" says I, stopping the-mare, family. Ten years ago I married his t(i
eldestt,
"how d 'ye do ? I ain't seen you since you brother to a lovely girl, and, strange to say, I

did up that ere youngster."

little job for my was forced to bury his wife, too, on the very
The parson 's generally reckoned a jolly same day, and in the same manner."
kind of man enough, but he walked up to us " Sakes 1" I exclaimed, "it's really a dan-
kind of solemn as we halted. gerous thing to be concerned in, parson ; you.
"Good-day and to yon
to you, friend G ,
ought to let the police into such a piece of
also, madam it has indeed been many days
; business as that."
since we have met." " What " cried the parson, " go to the police
!

I knew from his pompous manner that he with a private familymatter like that? Never!"
alluded to wife and I not haviu' been to meet- Sometimes, when the parson had worked
in' of late so I thought I 'd smooth up matters
;
himself up rather high in his sermons, I had
a little. fancied there was something kind of flighty
"Yes, indeed," says I, drawin' my face as about him but now I made quite sure that he
;

long as I could, "we 've had such drawbacks was raving mad, or else about as black a villain
with the bad roads, and the mare's being lame, as ever walked the earth. Just as he was
and my old woman, here, down half the time going to speak again I drove off.

with the rheumatiz, that we 've been fair run "Good-day, parson," says I, a little stiff,
aground up our way lately for want of a good "we 've lots on hand this morning, and must
sermon." be moving. Good-day 1
'

This did the business, and our parson looked So saying, without noticing my wife, who
smiling in an instant, that is, about as jolly as wanted to talk more, and kept kicking my
a persimmon fetched with frost, which is doin' boots under the seat as a hint, I whipped up the
pretty well for a parson. mare, leaving the parson standing in the road.
" And how is your son, madam, and his " I declare, Jed," scolded my wife, " if you
bride ?" he asked, turning to Mrs. G , who ain't the provokingest man that ever was. I
sat ou the back seat. wanted hear more about that awful queer
to

"Oh, fust-rate," said my wife; "they're family, and there you went and drove off right
jest ashappy as two chippy birds and I often ;
in the middle of it. Dear dear there 's mur- ! !

can't help thinking what a goose I was to sit dersomewhexe in that business, you may depend
and cry that day all through the ceremony." on it."
"Well, well," answered the parson, "wed- "Of course there is," I answered; "and I
dings are solemn things, madam, after all but ; tell you, wife, the less you and me knows about

your son's wedding was nothing to one I offici- it the better. Sooner or later things of this
ated at the other day." kind come to light, and theu look out for being
" Why, doctor, what on airth do you mean ?" called to court as a witness."
put in my wife, who, like women in general, "That's so, Jed," replied my wife, "but,
is very easily aroused in the curiosity way. my goodness awful to think of f It's
I ain't it

"Why, madam," he replied, "I married a worse than Bluebeard What family can it I

beautiful young girl." be, I wonder ? He seemed kind of disinclined

" You married her!" screeched my wife. to tell us, did you notice ?"
" Ah ahem I mean I performed the cere-
I I
" Of course I did. You don't think the man
mony," explained the parson, blushing clean would go and let out anything of that kind be-
through his yellow skin " and, sad to relate, ;
fore a woman, do you? He might as well
I buried her on the same day." publish it,"
" Dear me how terrible !" cried my wife,
!
" Umph ! What did you*niarry a woman
actually turning pale, and no wonder. "Was for, if they 're so dreadful ?" retorted my wife.
it consumption ? Oh no I guess it must have ;
"Because," says I, chnckling, "I didn't
been cholera, since they couldn't keep the care to keep my marriage particularly secret."
 !

THE FATAL BRIDEGROOM. TEMPER. 347

Well, to tell the truth, we had a few more Yes, I took,and I /ih( too.
words not over-tender and affectionate but we ; Mrs. O was even more indignant than I
soon made up, and so drove into town, still was. But she always clinches off any allusion
talking over the unnatural business, and won- to the story with
dering at our parsou's having a baud in such "Well, it served you right! Another time
work. you '11 be more careful uot to drive off in the
All the rest of that day we couldn't talk or very middle of a story."
think about anything else but we both re-
;

solved to keep the matter to ourselves for fear

of getting into some scrape or other.
Finally, after tea, my
"Jed, I wife said:
TEMPER.
declare I have nightmare all night if I
shall Ip that disposition of the mind, which we
don't find out something more about that busi- call temper, be good, what a blessiug it may
ness. What do you say to calliu' in at the prove ! but when bad, of how many evils is it

parson's on your way to brother Tim's. You the cause f

could get up some excuse or other to stop." IIow many do we hear excusing the most
Well, the long and short of it is, like Adam unpardonable offences by saying, " It was only
of old, I was tempted by the curiosity of "the temper." They little think to what " only tem-
woman," and so dropped in to offer the parson per," if unchecked, may lead.
the use of my new seed-sower in case he How many have, in an evil hour, through
needed it. temper, committed deeds, and spoken words,
The parson's room was full of folks, and of which a whole lifetime has not licen sufficient
I talked about different things until at last I to repent. Deeds, that have arisen to accuse
couldn't hold out no longer so I just drew the ; and torment them in their dying hour.
parson out in the entry, and whispered : How bitterly Henry regretted the hasty words
"Doctor Smith, if you wouldn't mind in- which caused the death of Thomas a Becket
trusting me with the name of that bridegroom, But the words were spoken, and no after re-
I might some time be of use to you in the mat- morse could recall them. Y'et we can say,
ter, as I cau testify to your general character " only temper."
and" I am afraid it is because temper is so common
"Of use! character!" interrupted the parson, a with otherwise good persons, that we
fault
opening his big eyes wider yet. "Why, my are so ready to excuse it. How often do we
dear friend, what do you mean ?" hear it said, " I should not think there was
"Hush!" I whispered, "we will be over- much in any one who had not a spice of tem-
heard I merely ask to know the name, in
! per." And this conclusio|i, in many cases,
case you are willing to give it to me. Rest has much truth in it but then it must be a ;

assured, my dear sir, your secret, dark though governed temper, one under the control of
it may be, is safe with me. /shall never be- reason. A temper, the conquest of which has
tray you." purified the spirit of its possessor. Yes, there

The parson colored got purple turned from is the use of temper : it is a trial to purify us.
me au instant, and I could see that his frame Let us use it as such. Let this thought en-
was convulsed by some great inward struggle. courage us to strive for victory over it.
At last he turned towards me, and gave vent And we who are tried by the temper of those
to his feelings in one long hideous shont of around us, whether it be hasty, or irritable, or
laughter. sullen no matter what, let us ever remember
" Why, my dear Mr. G ," he yelped out, that it is far more irksome to themselves than
holdiug his sides in the mean
time, and actu- it cau be to us ; therefore, let us, in a truly
ally drawing half a dozen people out in the Christian spirit, help them to bear the burden
hall by his outrageous racket. " Why, my dear of it.

sir, is it possible ? Didn't I tell you that man's

name ? He he ho ho
! ! I ! Dark secret, indeed !

Why, you you drove off in such a hurry I

see, The foundation of domestic happiness is faith
had no ciiance to tell you he he ho ho ! ! ! I in the virtue of woman ; the foundation of all

ho Why the Juan's name was Berry and so

! ; political happiness is confidence in the integ-
of course I had to Berry his wife when I mar- rity of man
and the foundation of all happi-
;

ried her to him Don't you take f" And he

I ness, temporal and eternal reliance on the
laughed harder than ever. goodness of God.
28*
 " ;

THE VERTICAL EAILWAY.

BY THE ATTTHOB OF "exPERIENCEB AT THE SEASHOE

Miss Hattie Wallace wag shown to her "You cross old thing I" was the nndutiful
elegant room at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. She speech that followed. "You are sleepy now,
put down her neat little satchel, and glanced I know you are you are always
;
as cross as
around with great satisfaction. "Velvet car- two sticks when you are sleepy."
pet, rosewood furniture, fronting Twenty-third Mr. Wallace answered by a yawn, and pushed
Street good!"
She removed the dusty trav- his chair away from the table. " I will go to
elling-hat, bathed her face and hands, gave a bed, then," said he; "perhaps I will be in a

hasty brush to her curls, and then opened the better hnmor morning."
in the
door and looked down the long hall. " Why Miss Hattie followed, shaking her curls a
don't papa come ? I 'm as hungry as a bear !" little disconsolately. " I see I shall have to
Happily for the poor famished young creature, look out for myself," she thought.
papa's portly figure was at this moment seen It was during that season when even Broad-
approaching. way is deserted shops looking dusty and
;

"Well, Hal, ready for sapper, hey?" he uninviting, the clerks standing unemployed
called when he spied her. behind the counters, and answering grumpily
" I sliould think' I was," rather crossly said any meek requests made by shabby-looking
Miss Hal; " hav'n't had a mouthful since ladies, arrayed principally in green veils, for
breakfast." hair-pins. Lisle thread gloves, and the like ;
" Corae on, then; lock your door." And at that season when the sound of the omni-
Mr. Wallace led the way down to the tea-room. busses, rolling slowly over the stones, had an
And while Miss Hattie satisfied li'er ravenous emptiness plainly indicating the condition of
hunger, I will tell you what she is, viz. : a very the inside of the 'buss. As for the hotels, they
pretty girl. I am a judge of a pretty girl, and I were positively ghostly. The heavy tread of a
consider Miss Hattie a fair specimen ; red lips, porter, or the light trip of a maid on the muffled
good teeth, full gray eyes, with long curving floors, being the only sounds heard.
lashes, and great bunches of auburn curls My pretty heroine wandered through the
waving rich and soft over her forehead and parlors hour after hour, occasionally stopping
down either side of her oval face. Miss Hattie at thewindows, and drumming impatiently on
is petite ; hut, as every quick graceful movement the panes, and watching the little news-boys

indicates alas ! must 1 acknowledge it ?if!irti/. and apple-venders on the pavement below.
Miss having finished her supper,
Hattie, True there was some consolation in the large
leaned contentedly back in her chair, and cate- mirrors that met her at every turn I own ;

chized her parent. there an inexhaustible pleasure in seeing

is

" Now, papa, we are here ; how long are we how one's dress hangs but still a variety is;

going to stay?" pleasant. So the third day Miss Hattie deter-

"Can't possibly tell," answered papa, carv- mined to have a walk, in spite of the heat.
ing with great vigor. Bonnet and mantle were donned, and gloves
" But how long do you thinh?" (No. 6, double buttons) were drawn on, and
'
' Two weeks, probably three perhaps four. she sallied forth. Up and down the Fifth
" Aggravating And what am I to do while
I Avenue, through and through Madison Square,
ycm are off on business ?" and then back to the hotel, "tired to death,"
" Oh, what you always do drum a little on : of course. " I '11 ride up to my room on the
the piano, and sew your clothes." railway 1" was her brave determination. Now
" Sew my clothes!" here said Miss Hattie you must know that same railway wasthis

in grat indignation " I 'II do nothing of the

;
Miss Hattie's horror she had a dreadful pre-
:

kind." sentiment that if she once got on there would

"Then, anything yon please." surely be an accident ; she pictured to herself
A short pause, and then a coaxing little the car whizzing violently down the screw, and
whisper. "lYou will take me to the theatre stopping at last with a great thump, mashing
every inight, of course ?" her poor little head, or, at the least, her bonnet
" Ugh ofconree not!"
! therefore, her " brave" determination.
348
 :

THE VEBTICAL RAILWAY. 349

" Are you going up ?" she asked of the con- is, she had been accustomed to wear only a
ductor. plain little dress and linen collar, and she was

" Yes, miss," was the answer. So Miss Hattie afraid the gorgeous comhiuatiou of silk aud
stepped in and se.ited herself, quaking. lace might meet with her father's disapproba-
Slowly they started the network door closed; tion.

as if by magic ; Miss Battle's eyes grew big But Mr. Wallace was thinking too much of
with apprfhension but np they went safely to
; his dinner to notice; he merely said: "All
the next floor; and on the next floor stood a ready, I see," and started down the hall. This

young man a young man with a buff mous- naughty girl, bent on chaining the already con-
tache, and a stylish suit of light gray. Now, quered, sailed into the diriing-room, taking in
the young man was the picture of listlessness, at a glance the whole room. There he was, a
till he caught sight of the pretty face and au- few tables off, pushing aside the white cravatted
burn curls shining mistily through the network waiter, who unconsciously impeded his view.
door and as it came nearer, and the door
; Miss Hattie ate her dinner gracefully and tran-
opened again as if by magic, his before half- quilly, never once meeting the e.ager looks fixed
formed resolution ripened, and he cried out upon her, aud apparently entirely unaware that
" Stop! I 'm going up." the giver of the looks ate nothing, aud cruelly
The rope was pulled, the car stopped, and in snubbed the aforesaid waiter. Bat as she was
he got. Miss Hattie moved gently along the leaving the room, and passed close by him, a
seat, and drew her skirts within bounds, there- little look dropped from her gr,\v eyes a little
by leaving oceans of room. But the young look that said, "I have not forgotten you I"
man he could see so much
preferred to stand ; and it was returned by one that said as plainly,
better, and I ammade good use of
afraid he " I adore you."
liis eyes, for his little fellow-passenger blushed After Miss Hattie's eleven o'clock breakfast,
and swept her cheeks with her dark lashes, the next morning, she w.andered as usual in the
and almost forgot to have the car stopped in parlors, and then threw herself languidly into
time to get out at the next landing however, ; the corner of a sofa, pettishly wondering "what
she managed it, and glided past the young she was to do with herself f"
man with a charming little bend, and a half " It is raining, and of course I can't go out,"
murmured apology for "incommoding him." she thought, with a despairing look at the
lucomraodiug he had almost a mind to go
! heavy clouds.
down on his knees, then and there, regardless Here I would remark that this is a very com-
of the conductor, and swear that he would mon complaint with girls. Can't go out be-
rather she would w.alk over him than not. He cause it rains ? Nonsense Lace on thick
!

restrained this insane impulse, and merely walking boots, loop your dress up over a bal-
bowed, and stammered, and stroked his mous- moral, put au aqtia scutum around you, the hood
tache so she, seeing plainly that she had the
;
over your bonnet, and be off. Why, there is
advantage, got saucy again, and gave him a real pleasure in a tramp on a rainy day, if you
quick look from under her curls as she went off are arrayed in the very sensible manner I have
that she well knew would "finish him." described. There is one objection, however, I
And after this young lady got to her room, have not met. Miss Hattie sees it, for she
what do you think she did ? Seated herself in stuck out the toe of her slipper, and looked at
a comfortable chair by the window, and giggled itdolefuUy. " If Idid go out," was her inward
wickedly. Yes, she was well pleased with remark, "I would have to put on boots, and
the morning's adventures, and found herself at I 'd rather take a whipping than lace them np."

once in her element. The chair was rocked Alas for the laziness of the age
! As I sit !

eajily back and forth for some time, and then
suddenly stopped. Miss Hattie's brows knit in
a pretty contemplating frown she seemed in
deep and earnest thought for a moment, and
then a radiant smile dimpled about her mouth.
here, writing, a cousin of mine is hobbling
about the room on one foot and one heel, one of
; her slippers lying out on the balcony where she
kicked it a while ago, and she being absolutely
too lazy to go and get it. There a needle has
!

"I'll wear my blue!" she said, aloud, and pricked the unprotected foot, and she is nursing
went to the bed with a novel, cuddled up, and it, and whining, " Mary, do please go get my

read herself to sleep. slipper I know I '11 have the lockjaw."

; But
When Mr. Wallace came home at six o'clock I refuse, and smile scornfully at the idea of

and tapped at his daughter's door, it was opened lockjaw; she calls me "unfeeling," and has
by that young lady rather timidly. The truth now fished the slipper from off the balcony


350 qodet's lady's book and magazine.

with an umbrella handle, and is putting it on, only harm

all she needed being perfect quiet."

bemoaning herself the while. So the reluctant Bob went off, and his poor
Miss Halj^jejWas still regarding the toe of her little sister shut her two eyes and did her best

little it pathetically upon

FrencJ^^^d, tapping endeavors to get well.
the carpet, ""^ pleafejng occupation was
2^P Bob stamped down stairs, buttoning up his
arrested by ^Bairf arms being thrown around great-coat,and inwardly bestowing many ana-
her waist, ana a very hearty;iis3 pressing her themas upon headaches in general. He betook
lips. She gav^fcridiculous .little shriek, and himself to Broadway, and wandered morosely
then said, gladly about until, suddenly, a bright thought struck
" Why, youdfedWEb 1 when did you come him he stepped into Maillard's and purchased
:

and what brought you ?" enough goodies to last a regiment for a week
"I have just got in by the l^at," said dear (well knowing that his sister had a partiality
Bob, "and I came because father wrote me for goodies),and then hurried home with them,
that you were so lonely." entertaining strong hopes that they would act
" How very nice in papa, and what grand fun as a charm, and dispel the old headache.
we'll have together !" and Miss Hattie gave As he was dashing up stairs, three steps at
her brother an ecstatic pinch, and her languor a time (entirely ignoring the vertical railway),
vanished. " And oh. Bob, I am in for a flirta- he came full upon a gentleman leisurely de-
tion!" scending a gentleman with a buff moustache.
"At your old tricks again, hey?" said Bob, Both started back with the usual apologies,
approvingly. and then as suddenly forward and into each
Hattie nodded and murmured, " 5o hand- other's arms, where they hugged and thumped

some light moustache," etc. etc. each other for the space of ten minutes or so,
Bob was used to this, and listened with sundry exclamations escaping both'-afif " Bob,
praiseworthy attention for some time and then ; you good old fellow!" "Hunt, mytdear old
interest flagged. " Come, now, Hal," he said, chum !" etc. "And now come up to my room,
rising, shaking down his pants, and settling and we will have a regular pow-wow," says he
his collar " come with me while I get in some
; of the moustache.
rations, and we '11 talk of this chap and every- Bob acquiesced, only seizing a moment to
body else another time." rush excitedly into his sister's room, throw the
Miss Hattie and Bob industriously "did" bundle of goodies at her head, mutter som&-
New York for the next few days, lingering thing about "old chum. Hunt Fairfax," and
away the mornings at the Dusseldorf Gallery, be off again.
or Joupils ; driving every afternoon in the The " regular pow-wow" took place in style ;

Park, and patronizing the theatres in the eve-
ning, ending up with a
Maison Doree. Miss Hattie was, too, somewhat
stage-struck, and"came" Miss Bateman more
than was absolutely necessary she invested
the young man with the buff moustache (whom,
by the way, she had not seen
arrival) with all the virtues of a Sir
Clifford, and adopted her good papa for Master
Walter. Unconscious Mr. Wallace How hor-
rified he would have been if he had known that
he was sustaining all the time a theatrical
both young men in dressing-gowns and smok-
petile souper at the ing-caps, their meerschaums emitting clouds of
fragrant smoke, and their boots placed, very
improperly I acknowledge, upon the window-
: sill. Old college-days were talked over, college
scrapes recounted with great gusto, college
since her brother's flirtations freely discussed.
Thomas " And what became of your inamorata. Miss
Sallie Hillard,Bob ?" Hunt asks. " You were
! pretty far gone in that quarter when I last saw
you; you threatened suicide, I remember."
" Ha, ha so I did," answers Bob. " I was
!

character in the fertile imagination of his at her wedding a couple of months ago pretty ;

daughter ! yet, but rather oldish. I don't believe you ever

One morning. Miss Hattie awoke with a looked at a girl, a second time in your life,
headache. She lay still for a few minutes, Hunt."
hoping it would go off; but no, the dull throb Hunt blushed guiltily.

continued, and she reluctantly concluded that " Not often, I own ; but" here he burst
she must keep her room and a lounge for the out in a fit of confidence " I '11 tell you what.
whole day. She told Bob mournfully, when Bob, I am fairly in love now."

he came to her door, that " she could not go " Not you?" Bob asked, incredulously.
out with him, but that he must go without "Fairly in love," Hunt continued, medi-
her for his presence would do her no good.
; tatingly knocking the ashes out of his pipe,


THE VERTICAL RAILWAY, 351

Rii.l proceeding to fill it again ;

" I Ml tell you Poor Miss Hatlie how wofuUy she blushed,
I

liow it was standing by that ver-

happened : I and what awkward work she made of the little
tical railway as the car was coming up, and as bend necessary in response to the "Hunt Fair-
it neared lue I discovered, seated demurely fax, sister."
within it, the very prettiest girl I ever saw ;
" I did not know that er Mr." she stam-
such an odd style of beauty, gray eyes" mered.
" Eh !" said Bob, removing his feet from the " Mr. Fairfax was here," assisted Bob. "I
window-sill. did not know it myself until yesterday, and
" Fine eyebrows and lashes" would have told you, but kept it for an agree-
"Yes, certainly," assented Bob, with a nod able surprise."
of his head. "Oh, delightful!" murmured Miss Ilattie,

"And auburn carls." inanything but a delighted tone, and with a

"By Jove, I thought so!"exclaimed Bob, movement of the eyes about the room that
almost leaping from the window. "Why, old showed a decided desire to escape.
fellow, was my sister I"
it "Bob and I have not met for two vears,"
" Not your sister ?" Mr. Fairfax said, in a very commonplace way,
" Yes, my sister !" and sinking negligently down by Miss Hattie's
" My dear fellow shake hands." I side.
" With all the pleasure in life." "Over two years. Hunt," observe? Bob, with
"And when will yon introduce me?" a sly wink to show his approbation of the course
" She has got an infernal headache to-day, his friend was pursuing.
but to-morrow I will." " Is it ?" said that gentleman, languidly.
"J may depend upon your influence. Bob ?" And then, looking full into Hattie's face, with
" No need to ask that, chum nothing would ; a slight smile, " Yonr sister reminds me some-
delight me more." what of a lady I met once before."
To-morrow came, and the impatient Bob " If he can play that game so can I, " thought
tapped, tapped at his sister's door, hurrying a quick little brain. "Ah !" she said, sweetly,

her to an alarming extent. "I don't remember ever to have had the
" Bob, why will you do so ?" she cried at pleasure of seeing you before."
last " I '11 never get my hair curled."
; Bob chuckled. " Ilad him there," he mut-
" Girls take so long !" snapped Bob. tered beneath his breath.
" I am coming right off," she said and ten ; Mr. Fairfax received this cutting thrust with
minutes after she kept her word. nonchalance, only saida^ " Perhaps not." :

" Oh, you are ready at last ?" says Bob, who " You 'II go with us to Wallack's to-night,
was leaning resignedly against the door-post. Hunt ?" Bob says.
" Don't sneer, you shocking boy I dressed 1 Hattie blushingly thinks of 'her ideal. Sir
in no time at all." Tljomas Clifford, and does not urge the invita-
Bob merely shrugged his shoulders. He well tion. Mr. Fairfax, not noticing the omission,
knew that when a girl declared she had dressed accepts as a matter of course.
in " no tiqje at all," after having been fully an " And what shall we do this morning?" he
hour engaged in the operation, that there was asks.
no persuiding or reasoning her to the contrary. " Pray leave me out of yonr plans, gentle-
Miss Ilattie marched on in dignified silence, men. I shall be busy all the mornin;!," and
and when Bob, entirely quenched, asked if he Hattie nods graciously and makes for the door.
might not bring an old chum of his to intro- "That's all bosh," Bob said, pettishly, as
duce to her, she said, " I know I don't look she disappeared "she has got nothing under
;

fit ; I dressed in such a hurry but I suppose ; the sun to do girls are so whimsical. Let's
;

you m.ay bring him." be off."

She took her .accustomed lounge upon a sofa
in one of the parlors, and waited with complete A month had passed, and Mr. Wallace talked
indifference the arrival of her brother and Fair- of returning home. "You will he glad to go,
fax she even was guilty of a slight yawn, and
; Hal," he said, totally blind to the consterna-
a half wish that Bob's chum was in Jericho. tion depicted in his daughter's face. " Yon
But Bob's chum was not in Jericho, but there have had a stupid time of it, poor child To !

before her, bowing low. be sure it h.a3 been a little belter since Bob
Miss Ilattie glanced up hurriedly a bnff came, and that young Fairfax, by the way, has

moustache a countenance well remembered. beeu very kind."


352 godet's lady's book and magazine.

Hattie only asked, in a faint little voice, "Come, no time to be lost," Mr. Wallace
" When they were going f" said " the stage is at the door baggage gone
; ;

"Most likely to-morrow," was the answer; half an hour ago. Mr. Fairfax, shall we bid
" better pack your trunk." you good-by, or will you see the last of us ?"
Now Miss Hattie bad been having anything " I go down to the boat with you, sir."
will
but a stupid time her brother and Fairfax had
; And when they got down to the boat they
devoted themselves to her amusement, and found they had not, indeed, much time to lose :

consequently she had enjoyed herself entirely. crowds pouring on and ofl', jostling each other,
As for Fairfax, he was in a state of bliss in- and everything in a grand state of hullabaloo
describable. The few and slight favors that and excitement.
this little flirt allowed him were valued beyond "We can't hear ourselves speak here," said
anything; if she graciously accepted his assist- Bob "come up on deck. Hunt."
;

ance, instead of her brother's, in descending "I am afraid there will not be time," Hunt
from the carriage, Fairfax was happy or if, in ; said, hesitatingly.
a crowd at the theatre, she clung closely to his " Oh yes, there will be," whispered a plead-
arm for protection, he was triumphant. But ing voice "do come." ;

he was a wise man, and disguised his feelings, What could Hunt do but go and what won- ;

well knowing that if Miss Hattie knew the der, late as it was, that Bob suddenly ex-
power she had over him she would exert it to claimed " We are ofl', by Jove !"
:

a tormenting extent. Fairfax sprang to the side of the boat. Sure

Hattie's face, as was reflected in the mir-
it enough, ofl' they were, and too far off for a jump
ror the morning tliey were to leave, almost to be possible.
startled her, so white it was. "Pshaw!" she "Make the best of it, Hunt," Bob said, as
half laughed, giving both cheeks a vigorous well as he could for laughing. go shares " I '11

pinch, " one would think I was sorry to go, with you till you can send for your baggage."
instead of being delighted," and she picked Hunt said he must take the next train back,
up her shawl and satchel, and gave a hurried and sat down resignedly. Mr. Wallace came
glance around the room to see that she had up and expressed his pleasure at his misfor-
forgotten nothing. "I'll take one more ride tune, and declared they would keep him for a
on the railway," she thought, as she closed long visit. "When we once get you down
her door reluctantly after her. "I hope the there you will want to stay," he said.
car will be going down." Fairfax did not doubt that, and he glanced
The car was going down, ancLas Miss Hattie furtively at Hattie to try and discover what her
stepped in some one close bSiind followed. faelings were upon the subject. There she sat,
Hattie blushed rosily, as this "some one" half sideways, her hand supporting her head,
seated himself beside her. her smiling eyes fixed musingly upon the
" And you are going ?" Fairfax said, mourn- water her curls, flashing bronze in the sun-
;

fully. light, shading her cheek whether this pose ;

"And yon care ?" she asked, gently. was intentional or not, n'mporte, the picture
Fairfax looked up, full into her eyes. " Do was very pretty and very consoling. Fairfax
you wish to know how much I care ?" felt sure that she was not displeased at the

"I can guess how much," she said, a little thought of his going, so he brightened up won-
nervously. derfully, and made himself very agreeable
" No, you cannot. I will tell you," and he and 'the little journey came soon to an end.
leaned towards her gravely. Two weeks passed quickly away two very ;

"Pray do not not here," she whispered, busy weeks they were everything that could ;

with a frightened look at the conductor, who be crammed into two weeks icas crammed in.
stood there whistling, entirely oblivious of the Rides and drives, dances and pic-nics, and tea-
little scene. parties the whole neighborhood joined iu and
;

" Tlien I may anpther time ?" Fairfax asked, did their share, and Fairfax was the very life
his eyes flashing. of it all. Never was a listless, lazy fellow,
Hattie saw that she had committed herself. thinking only of the fit of his boot, or the color

"I only meant," she said, trying to laugh, of his meerschaum, so transformed. In some

"that that here we are." things, however, he was unchangeable he ;

Fairfax did not see the point, but the car still fondly caressed his buff moustache, still

had stopped, and Mr. Wallace and Bob stood walked with the saunter, and talked with the
waiting. drawl habitual to him.


PRACTICAL LESSONS IN DRAWING. 853

There must have been a secret uaderstanding finea certain portion of a landscape or other
between him and Ilattie, for there was a con- subject. The importance of attending to this
stant allusion to a meeting in a vertical rail- rule will be obvious to every person and ;

way, tliat sadly puzzled Miss Uattie's unini- when we treat hereafter of sketching from
tiated friends. But certain I am that no further Nature, you will then find how essential it is

conversation upon the subject had taken pla^e to adopt this method. When the boundary-
between them, or else how could it be that one line is formed, your next care should be to
day at the close of the two weeks, as Hunt determine the relative positions of the principal
lounged into the drawing-room and found Miss objects, points, or features, etc. and if you ;

'
Hattie there, cuddled into a corner of a sofa in have attended to the instructions given in the
a, dark comer of the room reading, as usual, a former lessons, you will not have much diffi-
novel, and took his place close beside her, culty in doing so by faint lines and dots. In 3
drawing the book from her little hands and landscape you will have to fix the height of the
clasping said little hands closely in his own, Itorizon, which should be done by first placing
lie whispered a dot at each side of the boundary-line, and
"And now, may I tell you how much I cared then, if you have j udged the distance correctly^
when you were about to leave me, or rather uniting the two by a faint line drawn through
how much I care uow that I am about to leave the picture ; this is called the horizontal line.
you?" When that has been done, determine the near-
And Hattie answered with a little langh and est conspicuous object to the boundary-line, its
blush height, width, and relative position to the hori-
" Yes, now you may, there being no con- zontal line imd other objects ; then fix th-e

ductor within hearing." position of the trees, distance, and foreground,

Which is proof positive that this was the by means of faint outlines or dots, or both,
continuation of the conversation commenced taking care to observe their relative situation^
on the "Vertical Railway." inclinations, and measurements are regulated
by their proximity to the boundary, horizontal,
and base lines of the picture the last-men-;

tioned line being the bottom or lower boundary-

PRACTICAL LESSONS IN DRAWING.
line of the drawing.
FIFTH LESS0!f. you were directed to draw a line
In Fig. 8
Before submitting the examples we have perpendicular to the horizontal ones this was ;

prepared for this lesson, it will be necessary to done for the purpose of enabling you to judge
make a few observations upon copying. the relative distances of the several angles of
We suppose that you have to copy a
will the pyramid from each other and you will find
;

drawing, perhaps an architectural one. Uow itvery useful to draw a line through the centre
would you commence Most probably differ-
? of any object that you have to copy, because it
ently from your neighbor, who would also com- serves as a guide to the proper disposition of
mence differently from his neighbor, and soon, the several other parts. Of course, as you be-
unless guided by correct principles. Do not
Fig. 20.
imagine that what we state is without founda-
tion it is perfectly true ; for, not long since,
we placed two drawings of the same subject
before four pupils, and requested tliew to copy
them, and each one commenced differently.
One of them began at the right-hand side, the
other at the left, another at the top, and the
fourth in the centre of the drawing. What
could illustrate more forcibly than these blun-
ders that attention to the rules of the art is
ahsolutely necessary ?
Yon ask, "How am I to commence?" and
to this question we will at once reply. First,
inclose a certain space by means of four lines,
if for a landscape ; or by an oval or circular
line, if for a portrait, etc. : this is called tlie come more and more proficient in the art, thin
loiindary line of the drawing, and is used to con- will not be always necesinnj.


354 GODET'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

We will now commence some practical illus- dicular lines (as shown in Fig. 23), and a hori-
trations of the preceding remarks. You are zontal line drawn above the circle. These
required to draw Fig. 20, which is a centre-
Fig. 23.
piece for a border, or an ornamental panel.
Fig. 21 is a diagram illustrating the method of

lines are sufficient to enable the pupil to con-

struct the figure with ease.
Our next exercises are taken from antique
vases, and given without any diagramatic
illustrations to enable the pupil to construct
them ; because, having already given ample

doing so, which is thus : First draw three hori- directions,we wish our pupils to think for
zontal lines, a b, c d, and bisect them with themselves, so as to be able to act at times
ef,
without the aid of an instructor.
the perpendicular line g h. You have only to
determine the relative distances of each point
by means of dots, and to draw the curved and
EtraigUt lines faintly, as shown in Fig. 21, and
LINES.
afterwards to rub out the superfluous lines,
(^Affectionately inscribed to Mrs. J. H. Laws, of Cincin^
and strengthen the outline by broad touches natty Ohio.)
with an HB pencil.
BT MRS. JENNIE D. LANGDOX.
We have found it an excellent plan to cut the Father, thy wili be done !

India-rubber, used for rubbing out architectural E'en though our hearts with deepest sorrow mouru,
and fine drawing, in a triangular shape, because And tears will flow for him, our darling oue
the angles enable us to remove very small lines To his long slumber borne.
or dots. Tlie. India-rubber should not be more How peacefully he lies
than one-fourth or three-sevenths of an inch After those weary days and nights of pain,
thick. "With the white lids closed o'er his violet eyes,

Our nest example Never to weep again!

a different character,
is of

being the outline of an antique vase (Fig. 22). Upon his baby brow.
So high and fair, no cloud may ever rest,
Fig. 22.
Nor ain nor sorrow reach him nestling now
On our dear Saviour's breast.

"Not lost, but gone before!"

Dear sister, tothy loving care once given
Now safely landed on the other shore.
He waits for theo in heaven.

If the talent of ridicule -were employed to

laugh men out of vice and folly, it might be of

some use to the world ; but, inste.ad of this, we

find that it is generally made use of to laugh
men out of virtue and good sense, by attacking
In drawing this figure, a circle is first of all everything that is solemn and serious, decent
drawn, and then it is divided by two perpen- and praiseworthy, in liuman life.
 ;
:

AUNT SOPHIE'S VISITS. NO. XV.

LATK LCCr N. OODFKET.

UifCLB Charles, Aunt Sopliie, and Willie " Henry, for oue, that I may not have the
were in their places at the tea-table, and the risk of his getting hurt on my hands," was the
other members of the family were rapidly tak- ready reply.
ing theirs, when Carrie exclaimed : "That 'sit! Hurrah! When shall we start ?"
" Where 's Henry ? He was iu a hurry for cried Henry,jumping np from the table.
his supper a half hour ago !" " Have you forgotten your supper?" said his
"The mails were not in when I came ; so I mother, while Edward hinted the impropriety
sent him to the office," replied her father, add- of pocketing his strap, since he would be likely
ing,a little later :
" Here he comes You ! to need it again soon.
have been spry, my boy." "Oh, I don't want anything to eat," he
" Yes, I was hungry," replied Henry, eying answered to both, continuing, impatiently
the table, as he unbuckled and placed in his " Please, when shall we start ? I want to go
eap the strap he had, boylike, fastened about and tell Johnnie Holt, because he thinks it is
him, as an indication of his eagerness for supper. such a big thing that he is going half a dozen
" You will do well to rest a minute, my miles to his grandpa's next week."
son," said Aunt Sophie. " I am sorry you ran " His grandfather lives twenty miles from
RO, just before tea." here," said Aunt Sophie, with a bit of rebuke
" But I got a letter from Mr. Ch.ipelle, and I in her tone, while the careful Emma h.anded
should think there would be a note iu it for him a piece of paper, bidding him take a buiin
me," said the boy, apologetically. or two from the table, lest he should again fiud
"There are two for you, and one for Emma," it necessary to beg a cracker at bedtime. Henry
replied Mr. Laselle, as he handed the' notes, folded his bunns, and stood demurely, cap iu
and laid the unopened business letters aside. hand, till Uncle Charles said :

"They are all well, mother," he continued, " Well, sonny, I think, if there 's nothing
"and wishing to see you and me at their house unusual iu the way, and it pleases your mother,
as soon as convenient." we will start iu the first train day after to-mor-
" And me, toowant me to come !"
; they all row."
exclaimed Henry, glancing up from his notes. " have no objections," said Mrs. Laselle.
I

" Hettie .ind Lizzie urge me to come also, "Goody goody only day after to-morrow
1 ! 1

and ("arrie, if there is a ch.iiice for both of us," I shall go quicker than Johuuie But who I

said Emma, hesitating, and passing her note to will go, too? Edward?"
Carrie, at the last clause. " No," replied the youth ;
" lean help Willie
" Oh, dear Why can't I have an invita-
! some, can't I ?"
tion?" said Edward. " Yes, a great deal," replied Willie, affection-
" You have one, my son Mr. Chapelle speaks ; ately.
particularly of you, as he urges me to bring as " What say yon, Emma ?'' asked her father.
many of the family as possible. He is at "As you and mother think best. I suppose
length about settling himself in business, and Carrie wants to go quite as much as I do, per-
he wishes my advice and assistance iu making haps more, and I went away last."
the necessary arrangements." " Yes but you did not go far, and the girls
;

" Can you leave to go ?" asked Aunt Sophie. evidently prefer your coming," promptly re-
" Oh yes I must go. Mr. Chapelle was so
; plied Carrie.
kind a neighbor that he has a brother's claim. " How is it with the boys, do you suppose ?"
Willie can attend to the office, for I shall be archly questioned Edward ; but he had no fur-
where he can write daily, or telegraph, if need ther answer than the reproving glance of his
be. But who will go with me? Mother, of mother, and the blushes upon Carrie's face, as
course." she continued :

There was silence among the eager-looking " Besides, I 'd rather stay at home, for Jen-
young faces, till Uncle Charles, laughing, said: nie Miles will be fourteen next Tuesday, and I
" Now don't all speak at once commence at ; would not miss her birthday party for any-
the oldest. What say you, Willie? I will thing."
take two of the children which shall go ?" ; "Then Emma will go?" said the eager Henry
VOL. LXVII. 29 < 355
I
366 godey's lady's book and magazine.

and, as his sister's glad, bright eyes answered
him, he sped away to tell his
the projected visit ; while the others, as usual,
lingered long over the social meal.
Two days later, glad greetings were exchanged
between our friends and the Chapelles. No
tie of kindred bound the two families but the
elders had to friendship in early life added
constant, kindly, neighborly intercourse for
near a score of years, while the children had
grown together, sharing the same sports and
tasks, till the wider separation of their homes
a year before, by the removal of Mr. Chapelle,
had partially checked the intimacy which they
tried to keep up by frequent
the elder, and the inclosed notes of the younger
members of each family.
" This seems like the good old times. I only
long for the old rough-hewn trough by the pump
companions of in the yard. Young people delight in new things
and new surroundings ; but the old, whose
circle of living friends is necessarily narrowing,
need the resources of memory, and hence crave
such surroundings as shall constantly remind
; them of departed friends and joys."
"But," responded Aunt Sophie, "I do not
think that their love for time-honored things
and customs is always wholly the result of their
prizing the old associations, though that it is
partially so is beyond question. Aged people
do not, I suppose, like to feel that they are
losing capabilities they have rejoiced in any
letters between better than the rest of us. We know how,
when we are flattering ourselves that we have
regained our strength after illness, we love to
think, or, better still, hear other people say :

wish all the children could have come," said '

You cannot open that window, because it is
Mr. Chapelle, looking around upon his guests, swollen by the dampness or, " That is heavier
; '

with evident satisfaction, as they were seated than usual so you could not expect to lift it
;

at table. alone.' We want to believe we are strong;

" Yes," echoed his wife ;
" I believe we all it is much pleasanter to think that changes, for
home the better."
yet love the old the worse, are in things about us than in our-
"But you seem very pleasantly situated selves. If,such times, we were moved into
at
here," said Uncle Charles. new houses,am afraid we should be ready to
I

" yes," replied the host "we have built ; complain of the conveniences we should have
us a far more splendid home, and decked its no capacity for appreciating. So with our good
rooms with the paintings we love, rare statu- old grandma. There was no contrast between
ettes, and elegant furniture but, unfortunately, ; the old, half dingy rooms and herself but she ;

we cannot buy the dear old associations. Near must wake to the fact that she is failing, if she
twenty years of life made the old place rich in acknowledges that the new ones are better. So
them I did not realize how rich till I came
; with grandpa. As he quivers with the cold at
away from it. However, no one else could so the old pump, he loves to remember how his
readily bring those treasures into our new hands and face used to glow beneath the pure
home you can but remind
as yourselves, since water, and he will not recognize this morning's
us of many white days in memory's calen- cold as anything more than a temporary bit of
dars." rheumatism ; and when the old pump is torn
" And Sophie always says I might to learn to away, he wholly forgets all the late chills at the
love this home, you know, father," said Mrs. troughj and, remembering only the exhilarating
Chapelle " so I expect she will -do her best to
; baths there, hestream from the
finds the
make me do so." bright faucet too small warm water only
; the
" She need make no unusual effort, if she makes him feel the cold the more in fact, any- ;

willonly stay long enough, '

' gallantly responded thing is wrong in his view, rather than he
the gentleman. losing the power to enjoy."
"At your ages," remarked Uncle Charles, " I am surprised," replied Mr. Chapelle, " to
" you will readily adapt yourselves to the new hear you imply that old people, lose capacity
surroundings, and very soon this home will be for enjoyment. You used to say that we should

almost as rich in untransferable wealth as was grow happier with advancing years."
the other. But I always pity old people, who " I think I never said that one's capacity for
are led by circumstances, or mistaken inclina- physical enjoyment increased with age. It is

tions, to change their dwelling. The new house wholly against fact," said Aunt Sophie.
never satisfies grandma ; the cheerful, sunny " May we hear of the superior enjoyments of
room, with its fresh paper and paint, is all the aged, which are not against facts ?" queried
very nice but it isn't home to her or to grand-
: Mr. Cliapelle, almost sarcastically, for it had
pa, who turns from the marble bowl, with the been his lot in early life to reside with a queru- i

hot and cold water ready to flow at his touch, to lous, unhappy old couple, whose days wer
 "
;

AUNT SOPHIE'S VISITS. 357

filled with weariness and complaint, and nights crease, perhaps I should say improve in quality,
with unrest. with the years of every child of our Father,
Aunt Sophie's face glowed with bright mem- who is wholly and intelligently true to himself
ories, as " Do yon remember old
she asked : and his duty. Remember, 1 do not say old
Mrs. Sistaire, who livi-d with her granddaugh- people are happier than young, but that they
ter, in the little brown cottage next the meet- should be, they may be, and will be, if they
ing-house, when we were children ?" have lived true Christian lives, and constantly
"0 yes. I went to school a little while to enlarged their higher capacities, as each of us
the bright little sehoolma'ara, and of course may do. Those, who have abused or dwarfed
saw her pious old grandmother often. I used their natures, may have no larger mental or
to think she was a rare old Methodist but, for ; spiritual capacities than in youth, and such
we boys liked her."
all that, must have a poor, pitiful old age. Childhood
"Of course you loved her; every child did. is the time when we can sport with the lambs
She was the happiest person I ever knew the and kittens, with a joy but little above that
only one I ever came near envying, I believe." they manifest, and yet very satisfying to us
" Yoa envy old Dame her short
Sistaire in then. Later, we may find added pleasure in
gown and petticoat ? It seems ridiculous," recognizing and cultivating those noble intel-
laughed Mr. Chapelle. lectual powers, which help us to exult upon
" Not ridiculous in the least, if you look at the mountain tops of thought. In maturity
it in one light," replied Auut Sophie, seriously. we may command a still better kind of happi-
"I was an earnest, conscientious little girl, ness, and its accompanying
in our activity
already loving onr holy Saviour and his omni- sense of power but through these seasons
;

potent Father with reverent, childish love, but there will be a poverty in our joy, if we neglect
not at all sure of their tender love for me. She our highest and best powers how much more ;

knew God was her Father, and she trusted in will there be such in age, when the physical
the glorious promises, with which her memory nature has lost its freshness and elasticity, and
was stored, and her lips familiar. She was mere intellectual activity ceases to satisfy
triumphantly finishing the course I longed to then the spirit should assert its superiority and
run. It was not wonderful that, when I saw her supremacy, and thus a man's last days become
always happy, always full of cheerfulness and his best days."
love, repeating psalms and joyful hymns, when " It is certainly a very pleasant ideal of age,
any other would have been fretting over her remarked Mr. Chapelle's eldest son, Theodore,
trials, I longed to be as sure that God was my '
who had listened with interest to the conver-
shield, my strength, and my redeemer' as was sation, and was not disposed to let the thread
she. Her happiness was evident to all about of it drop, as they were leaving the table.
her, for it was real, above all the accidents of "Make it yours, my young friend," replied
life, independent of the shafts of death. It Aunt Sophie, "and then bend your energies
was such happiness as no child might share towards realizing it a half century hence. With
the happiness of looking back and seeing a holy our Father's ever-ready help, you need not
Father's tender guidance through all the years for our highest, noblest ideals fall infinitely
fail,

of a long life, the happiness of looking forward, below His thoughts, and if in youth we trust-
knowing that the same infinitely loving hand fully claim His fatherly guidance, He will le.ad

shall lead ever onward and upward unto Him- us above our early selves to joyful though
far
self. I am glad that I knew her poverty, her partial sympathy with Him. If all our young

frequent times of illness, and her want of even people could adequately realize the nobility of
a common education, for thus the exceeding our nature, if they could have that faith in God
preciousuess of the true riches was made more and good which would lead them to make their
manifest." lower cap.acities work healthily instead of ruling,
"If," replied Mr. Chapelle, "I admit that the millennium would scarcely b many gene-
Dame was happier in age than in her
Sistaire rations in the future."
youth, and I can tell you of forty wretched old " I am not sure that I understand you," said
people, who look regretfully upon the past, you Theodore.
certainly will not put your one observation "Do you understand the words of St. Paul,
against my many." when he He that soweth to his flesh
says, '

" I beg your pardon, but I shall." said Aunt shall of the flesh reap corruption but he that :

Sophie ;
" or, rather, if no example, I
I h.id soweth to the spirit, shall of the spirit reap life
should still believe that happiness must in- everlasting f " asked Aunt Sophie, in reply.
358 godey's lady's book and magazine.

The young man hesitated a moment, and way open for those who have commenced
then replied: "I cannot say I ever devoted wrong ; but to me
God seems best,
that trust in
any thought to them, or supposed them any- which, beginning growth in the heart in
its

thiug more than an indefinite, figurative ex- childhood, leads its happy possessor into such
pression I might perhaps study out by and by, paths of enjoyment that he will never have a
when I shall have more leisure for such things." taste for any save pure pleasures. I cannot
" But did you ever realize that you never acknowledge that religion, real love to God,
will have more leisure ? You are forming tastes can be any restraint. Perfect love casteth '

now, which must monopolize your attention, out fear;' the laws of morality may be as
sowing seed which you must reap. If you chains about him who loves the evil ; but he
devote all your youth to sowing to the body and who intensely loves the good works with God,
mind, can you espect to reap the fruits of the and prizes his laws as helps, safeguards, and
Spirit in old age, or at death ?" warnings. When you first began to go to
" Yet you always urged upon us care of our school, in the old red school-house, the neces-

health isn't that sowing to the flesh ?" asked

;
sary rules were as needless and cruel restraints
Lizzie. to yon. If you had not perfect confidence in
"No, indeed," Aunt Sophie. "Be-
replied the teacher, you thought a whisper or bit of
cause I have talked with you ofthe infinite value play could do no harm but as you grew older,
;

of the immortal souls of your household ser- and learned to love study, you loved the discip-
vants, and urged upon you intelligent care for line, too, which gave you quiet for it, and the

them, you never supposed their improvement of
the same importance to yon as your own, did
you ? Just so, I might talk, or we might study a
great while profitably of your physical capaci-
ties, and their best development, for it is evident
farther you advanced mentally, the more yon
prized the rules, which you could now see had
been necessary to your progress. As we know
that all God's laws are righteous ones, trustful
obedience is our first duty, and thus His law is

none of us have yet reached our full perfection our schoolmaster, teaching us of Christ, until
as physical beings, and from this cause reap we rise to larger liberty as children of the Most
many a penalty of pain. I might also encour- High."
age you in the widest mental culture by truth- "Thank you," responded Theodore, "for
ful assurances of ample fruit of happiness, and making those words of St. Paul significant to
yet I would not have you forget that, if I could me. Will you please to illustrate his figure of
say all the truth at once, the most earnest sowing to the flesh and the Spirit, before the
portion of each appeal to you would be in behalf gas is lighted ?"
of your spiritual natures. We cannot abuse, " I shall be glad to try but the brief time
;

by neglect or otherwise, any capacity of our will give me no chance to do justice to the
noble, threefold nature without loss to our- subject. First, sowing to the flesh placing
selves and the higher the capacity neglected,
;
sensual gratification in the first place. The
the greater and probably the more permanent mother often unconsciously commences her
that loss. This seems unreal to you young darling's training for the degradation which
people, yet, if yon will look about you, you will afterwards wrings her heart. She forgets how
see all kinds of sowing and reaping going on, susceptible he is to all pure and beautiful
and if your eyes are keen enough, you can but things ; she neglects to teach him to love the
acknowledge that each seed bears fruit after birds, the flowers, and the bright sunset clouds
its kind." as the works of the good God ; she cannot find
"But, Mrs. Laselle," said Theodore, ear- time to answer his wondering questions, or tell
nestly, "my eyes are not keen I cannot even;
him the Bible stories every child loves intui-
see what kind of seed I have been sowing. I tively. She may also be injudicious sometimes
want to do about right, I ara sure but I like ;
in her praise, her rewards, and her punish-
to have a good time with ray companions, and ments : praising him more for care of his

I have always thought it would be time enough clothes than his conscience, bestowing sweet-
to get religion' by and by.
'
It is certainly very meats iind goodies as rewards, and withholding
respectable and desirable for elderly people ;
them as punishments, and thus making them
but it seems to tie up the young too closely for of undue consequence to him. She loves to
enjoyment." see his sprightly manifestations of pleasure at
"I have none of the sympathy, which ex- sight of the toothsome morsel, and then to
perience gives, in 'getting religion,'" replied which he so quickly learns
gratify the tastes for
Aunt Sophie. "I am glad that there is this to demand farther indulgence. She enjoys
 ;

AUNT SOPHIE'S VISITS. 359

Eeeing him eat the delicacy better than eating
it herself, for her enjoyment is higher and
thus it soon becomes a matter of coarse that he
shall monopolize her share of the rarities at
the table. As he grows older, ht- finds the
cakes, pies, and sweetmeats in tlit-ir places,
and sadly annoys the mother, who has fostered
his appetites, by appropriating them to him-
self. Perhaps she resists, or places the coveted
eatables under lock and key but the pampered
appetites are not thus removed, the old motives
are still strong. The boy cannot reasonably be
would never have drank, she said, for she was
; sure that tobacco caused the unnatural appetite
which brandy fed, till his fate was sealed. Ac-
customed to every luxury, till they were almost
as necessities to her, for she was the idolized
only dauehter of one of our merchant princes,
she married at eighteen, and was for a brief
time the happy mistress of the elegant home
her father had loved to provide. Her hand-
; some husband's passion for her measured the
capacity of his nature, and, in her inexperience,
she fancied was deep and pure as her love
it

expected to fully recognize the higher powers, for him. was as a sweet dream of paradise
Life
which have been neglected. He is ready now to her. Her husband h.ad scarce a fault in her
to sow bouutifnlly for himself. His selfish eyes, save that he had learned in his b.achelor
greed for something good to eat makes him days to chew tobacco. How she pitied him
disagreeable at home, and constantly conflicts that he had done so and lie, knowing her dis-
!

with his pride abroad. He meets others like like for the habit, rarely indulged in it in her
himself they have found tobacco a comfort.
; presence he was sorry it was pleasant to him,
;

lie tries it, and esnlts. It is a '

solace' for many and tried to break off its indulgence to please
longings. He knows
abominably filthy,
it is her, but yielded to the appetite, and thence
bnt he never intends to descend to halfpenny she noted his downward course. Brandy soon
pipes, and loathsome, uncut twists. Neither mingled with his tainted breath, and not long
does he wish to disgust the ladies. He has, at was either banished from her parlors or even
first, fine perfumes for his breath, if he is old boudoir. Partially blinded as she was, her
enough lo call upon them but soon the dear, ; bright dreams soon faded. Strong drink led
delightful weed becomes so pleasant to him, him into all manner of vices. With specious
that he cannot conceive it disagreeable to them, pretexts he beguiled her father into such in-
and he coolly enters their drawing-rooms with dorsements as wrought his pecuniary ruin ;

the vile stuff in his mouth, and I say it in but the old man happily died before realizing
pity and shame for my misguided sex the the extent of their misfortune. This was sorry
girls, thinking that all the young men smoke comfort for the frail woman, whose only re-

and chew, express no dislike to it." maining support was weaker than a broken
"I beg your pardon, mother, for interrupt- reed. Sorrows followed thick; children were
ing," exclaimed Emma; "but I don't want born and died in her wretched home. Then she
you to say the girls don't dislike tobacco ; we learned that her husband had taken that guilty
up and down a thousand times more
Itate it step from drinking to excess which alons may
than yon do, because we have not yet your annul a marriage vow but at this stiige of
;

large comprehension that sees everything as a affairs, the miserable man, who had sowed

work of God, and we despise the man who is a lavishly to the flesh, mauif(>stly reaped corrup-
Blave to itmore than you, because
incalculably tion. He wasseized by a vile and loathsome
we have not your pity for him, or your large disease, and the patient wife, already thinking
charity. Anybody would hate tobacco to have to fly, lingered throuf;h the long torture, min-
beard that poor woman talk, who fell sick at istering all she could to him whose outward
onr door and was buried from our home last self she could but loathe. Care for him broke
fall. Please tell them the story." And she her constitution, for it had been sadly weakened
stopped, her voice quivering with emotion. by previous suffering; and when, after his death,
" It was only too common a story, my dear, kind neighbors proffered aid, that she might go
in many of its particulars, for it is often a to some wealthy relatives, she was wholly unfit
scarcely discernible step from tobacco to brandy for the journey. Her anxiety to undertake it
and yet one which can never be wholly
it is supported her in starting but she soon found
;

retraced. The husband of our unfortunate herself unable to go on, and a brief illness at a
friend must have been a marked example of public house so exhausted her funds that she
sowing to the flesh, since he sowed other fruit determined on walking a few miles across the
so sparingly, yet his wife could never look be- country to a cheaper route. It so happened
hind his tobacco for the cause of his degrada- that she fell exhausted at our door, and it was
tion. If he could have stopped chewing, he our privilege to care for her in that sickness
29*
 ;

360 GODEY'S lady's BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

which opened the pearly 'gates' for her. She their self-indulgence. Almost all took it first
won onr love, aud we were amply repaid for for catarrh, or under some peculiar circum-
the care we enjoyed bestowing, in that our ex- stances ; but they would be glad if they did not
periences of seemed to he enlarged by our
life like it ; nevertheless, the habit unconsciously
hearty sympathy with lier. It is not wonder- grows upon them, if they do not make constant
ful that Emma and Carrie are ready to exclaim resistance. Who wants to be the slave of such
they hate tobacco hut Mr. Snell's case was not
; an encroaching appetite ? Let us have all charity
one I would have chosen to exemplify sowing for those who have been ensnared, for their
to the flesh, for it was an extreme one. Not temptations might have conquered us but let ;

all, who seek gratification for a morbid palate, us use our influence against this enemy of the
descend to drunkenness or licentiousness ; but, best interests of our fellows. However, we can-
just in proportion as one listens to appetite, not linger now upon this fruitful theme. Just
in preference to reason and conscience, making as some live for sensual gratification, others
the gratification of the senses an aim in life to starve all except mental capacities. Their life

the exclusion of higher ones, is his nature de- is in their books ; a kind of dried, petrified
graded. However, I do not think St. Paul semblance of life rather than life itself. How-
refers to disease or bodily corruption only in ever, men respect them, but they never love
the text ; there is a deeper meaning : He who them. Intellectual heights are cold, bleak,
yields to the sway of the senses, and ignores and bare, unless they glow and bloom in the
higher capacities, gives these no means or con- light of love. Mere knowledge never made a
ditions of growth. The seed which
put in is man happy for any length of time. The Chris-
the ground, and then deprived of needed its tian botanist, who analyzes the wayside fiower
nourishment by the less valuable plant which his Father has made, finds a purer pleasure in
grows at its side, decays and dies without ap- the act than an infidel philosopher could do in
pearing above the soil, or lives a feeble, starved solving all the mysteries of the Alps. Age finds
life at the side of its ever-encroaching compan- the mere scholar eminently respectable, but in
ion, according to the comparative strength of no wise satisfied. He has walked far in the
both. There are in the world only too many field of knowledge
but at each advancing step
;

puny, withering souls in suffering contact with the horizon has receded till he realizes the in-

morbidly developed sensual natures and I ;

finity of its treasures and now, weary and
;

fully believe that tobacco is a most potent discouraged, his labor seems well nigh lost.
agent in causing this state of things. At any But if he has also sowed to the Spirit if he
rate, we women do well to despise it, and te.ach trusts in whose
that everlasting Father, in
our children to do so, for it annoys us every- image he was made, the dimness and the mys-
where. We may learn to like the fragrance of tery, which prove the inexhaustibleness of the
a prime cigar, from its associations with the stores of knowledge, will give him new delight,
friends we love to greet ; we may not notice since with the eye of faith he can see himself,
the breath of the dainty chewer of the fine cut walking ever onward, and gathering abun-
but let us not forget that the fragrant cigar in dantly. More than this, if his heart be alive
the hands of youth may bring the foul pipe to with love to God and love to man, there can be
the lips of age, and that daintiness in chewing no barrenness, no dissatisfaction in his life. It
the weed cannot in the nature of things be matters little what the outward surroundings
permanent. As a sex we should set ourselves of the aged saint may be he has sowed to the ;

to make the most of our influence in prevent- Spirit, and he reaps life. How significant the
ing any from using it who have not already word !Every noble germ of a faculty, which
commenced. Few intelligent old smokers, with the Creator intrusted to him, is ready to ex-
higher tastes, but regret having learned to pand in the light of immortality ; none are
crave the indulgence, for it is expensive and crushed, none corrupted, and the glorious light
unprofitable. Still fewer are the chewers who, of heaven is so reflected on this side the
after a lapse of ten years, are not sorry they shadowy valley that even now he rejoices in
formed the habit, unless they have been led by it. If poverty comes, he is rich ; if bereave-
itto lower vices." ment comes, he clings the closer to the bright
"But," said Hettie, "you say nothing of promises he loves, exclaiming, from his full
the old -jromen snuff-takers." And Aunt So- heart : Though He slay me and all I love, yet
'

phie replied : will I trust in Him !' and this trust is happiness
"They, too, will add their warnings against an ever-increasing happiness. Make it yours
the bewitching habit, as they make excuses for now, inj young friends ; earnestly love the
 " ;

AUNT SOPHIE'3 VISITS. 361

right, and do it, and, Ihonph you may

strive to
often your onward course will be sure.
fail,
Strength will come as reward for effort. Be as
merry as you choose but'be in Bamest. Re-
solve that your lives shall be blessings to your-
selves and others and humbly and constantly ;
ask your heavenly Father's guidance, that they
may become such."
yielded to them. She met him with such sym-
pathy and encouragement as strengthened all
his good resolves, lud also promised to willingly
; receive, and sincerely answer all the letters he
should wish to write to her. Theodore many
times availed ihimself of this privilege, even
before he commenced writing directly to Carrie,
and afterwards the letters of his lady-love often

As Heltie was lighting the room, Theodore contained a note to her mother. Aunt Sophie
said, huskily :
enjoyed the correspondence which gave him a
"
thank yea a thousand times. I will re-
I son's place in her affection and respect before
member your words." And, bowing rapidly to he could claim it in reality.
Mrs. L.iselle, left the room. As soon as he was More than once in the years which have fol-
beyond hearing, Lizzie exclaimed :
lowed, as Aunt Sophie has visited at the pleasant
"Your talk against tobacco was a capital hit home of Theodore and Carrie Chapelle, or they
on Theodore. He has tried once to learn to use have been eagerly welcomed at her own, ear-
it, but it made him deathly sick, and he gave nest, eloquent words from the gentleman's
it up for that time, though he said then he lips, or animated accounts of his noble deeds
should try it again before going back to college, from those of his wife, have made her heart
for his chum delights in it." thrill with gratitude to the great Disposer that,
"Yes," said Hettie, "and from the few when he stood upon the brink of a precipice,
words I overheard between him and Tom Derby, her voice had power through her earnestness
I think they intend going to a saloon to try it and the potent iiifluence of all sweet, childish
to-night. I do hope he will not go. I think associations, to waken him, and afterward to
he has changed a great deal during the last encourage him in the upward way, where he
year. He doesn't seem so happy as he used." now walks so nobly.
'I am sure he laughs often enough,
'
'
replied '

Lizzie.
"Yes," said her sister; "but it is net his CALL ME THINE OWN.
old merry Laugh he seems to be thinking of
;
BY KATE HARRISOTOS.
something all the time Call me thine owd, dearest
"What! are you speaking of Theodore?" Call me thine own;
said Mrs. Chapelle, as she seated herself for Whisper it softly,

the evening. " Of course he is thinking of his In love's gentlest tone :

Murmur over
:t
liooks ; they always were victuals and drink to
In silence of night
him." Tenderly breathe it
" Bat they were never plai/, as I remember ; In morn's rosy light.
and he is a social boy. But let us hear more Nought in this wide world can soothe like thy tone ;

of our good friends in the old place," said Mr. Then call me thine own, dearestcall me thine own.
Chiipelle, and thus the conversation was turned. Call me thine own, darling
But when, a little time after, Aunt Sophie and Dearer to me
Hettie heard the bell ring, the latter glided Are such words than hright pearls
From the depth of the sea;
from the room. She soon returned, and whis-
Like nectar the sweetest,
pered to Mrs. Laselle that Theodore had sent Oft tasted before,
word to young Derby, by the servant, that My soul drinks them in,

there was company in the house ; he did not And keeps thirsting for more.
the purest of bliss my fond heart e'er has known
wish to leave.
Has been born of this thought: thou hast called mo
It was nearly two hours, however, before the
thine own.
young man came to the parlor. Then Aunt
Then call me thine own, love:
Sophie's quick eye saw the traces of keen suf-
Emboldened with thy breath,
fering npon his face ; but she saw as clearly that These accents will linger
there was peace now. To cheer me till death.
Theodore found opportunity, during this visit, Whether severed by fate
for one more earnest conversation with Aunt From the dearest and best.
Or !n rapture untold
Sophie, in which, as there were no listeners,
I recline on thy breast,
he spoke freely of his needs, his powerful Still, still round my path let this blessing be strewn,
temptations, and the instances in which he had That tbou hast, dgst, and ever wilt call me thine own.
 NOVELTIES FOE OCTOBER.
EIDING JACKET, CAP, CHEMISETTE, HEADDEESS, ETC.

Fig. 1. Tig. 2.

Fig. 1. Riding jacket, made of cloth or al- Fig. 2. French cap, made of emhroidered
paca. The vest can he of the same material as muslin, and trimmed with mauve ribbons.
the jacket, or of piqui. One of the latest styles.

Fig. 3. Fig. i.

Fig. 3 is a fancy chemisette, trimmed with I Pig. 4. Headdress, composed of lace and
braided silk and lace. |
rose sublime ribbon.
362
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 363

Fig. S.

Fig. 5 is a dress for a child from three to five mere ; the colors chiefly in demand are buff,
years old. It is made of bine cashmere, with fawn and white.
color,
applications of white merino, braided with It is worn with a small standing collar, and
black mohair braid. a narrow silk neck-tie. It is so entirely new,
elegant, and attractive, that it will form one of
the chief features of the season.
PATTERNS FROM MADAME DEMOREST'S
Larinia Sleeve. Half flowing sleeve, plaited
ESTABLISHMENT, with a large double box plait on the shoulder,
and trimmed with a cuff cut in points, and
No. 473 Broadway, New Yorf:.
edged with plaited ribbon, the cuff carried np
Ladiet' Veit. A new and very becomiiig ad-
the front of the arm to the setting iu of the
dition to the wardrobe this season is the vest.
It is intended to be worn under an open jacket,
and is made to fit the form closely round the
waist ; it is fastened with fiat gold buttons to

sleeve. This sleeve is cat plain and flowing ;

then plaited at the seam so as to set it to

it is

within four inches of the top, where it is left the form of the arm, and the bottom of the
open sufficiently to show a handsome chemi- sleeve drawn into a narrow band the size of the
Bette. The material used is fine cloth or cassi- caS, which is set on plain.
 ;

364 godet's lady's book and magazine.

Lace Cape. A simple and becoming little the figure ; the pelerine is braided with an
cape to be worn with a low-necked dress. It elaborate and efiective pattern, and forms a
is made of double illusion or figured net, and

trimmed witb two rows of velvet, or ribbon

the cape finished on the edge with a pretty
lace.

The Giraldine. This cloak is a very pretty
garment for a young lady of ten or twelve
years. It resembles a circular with pelerine, graceful and becoming finish to the cloak ; the
but is not quite so full, being cut with seams armholes are also trimmed with a pretty braid
just behind the shoulders, to set it closer to pattern.

BBAIDED TOP OF FIKCDSBION.

 ;

WORK DEPARTMENT. 365

LADY'S PURSE. return row, and join on the white silk and gold
beads. *, pass down 14 beads, make 1, purl 2
(S enffraving, page 304.)

MaUrials. Two skeins of bright blue two skeins of
together, make 1, purl 2 together ; repeat from
;

white fine parse silk two bunches of gold, and two of

;
*. The other row same as the blue and steel
steel bead^, ^o. 4; one pair of knitting-pinrt, No. 13. then repeat the blue and .steel once more. This
WiTU blue silk and steel beads ca.'t on forty- forms one end of the purse. The middle may
eight stitches, work four plain rows, then com- be worked thus :

mence the pattern thus : With white and gold beads make 1, purl 2
\st row. Make 1, purl 2 together, *, pass together, pass down 2 beads repeat ; ; return
down 1-1 beads, keep them under the thumb, row plain.
make 1, purl 2 together, make 1, purl 2 to- Repeat these two rows four times in white,
gether ; repeat from *. four times in blue, four times in white.Then
2(1. The return row to be worked in the - commence the other end in blue work the ;

same stitch, but without beads. same as before, only commence with 2, and in-
3(/. .Vs the onlr pass down 13 beads
first, crease to 14 beads.
instead of 14. Every row the same with 1 bead Sew up one-third at each end, and trim with
less, until only 2 beads remain then work the ; mixed gold and steel tassels.

CRAVATE MARIE THERESE.

This cravat is of sea-green silk, shaped to the neck, and trimmed with rows of fluted black lace.
The endii are embroidered in black silk and jet, and finished with three rows of fiuted lace.
866 GODEY'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

MIGNARDISE WOEK.

Edging No. 1. 2c?. 1 single in the centre of the 5 chain, 7

if'iieriaU. One piece of Mignardise, of the smallest chain, double in same stitch, 5 chain, * double
8126 ; cotton, No. S4 ; crochet hook, No. 19. Bell gaago. in next 5 chain, 7 chain, double in same stitch,

CoMMExcE in the 2d loop of the Mignardise, 5 chain, repeat from *.

work 5 chain, double into nest loop but one, 5 Zd.

1 double under the 1st, 7 chain, 7 chain,

chain, repeat. *,double under same, 7 chain, double under

2d Toto. Join on the cotton on the first stitch same, 7 chain, double under same, 5 chain,
of the 5 chain, 5 chain, double into centre stitch double under next 7, 5 chain, double under
of 5 chain, 5 chain, * double into same stitch, next 7, 7 chain, repeat from *.
5 chain, double into next 5, 5 chain, repeat
from *. IXSEBTION in MiGK ABDISE AND CkOCHET, No. 3.

3rf.
Join on the cotton in the centre stitch
Materials. One piece of Mignardise of the smallest
of the first 5 chain, * 6 chain, 1 single, into 3d size cotton, No. 24 ; crochet hook, No. 19. Bell gange.
;

stitch from the hook (this forms a point), 3

Take a piece of Mignardise the length re-
chain, double into centre of next .5, between
quired, commence 2d loop and work 3
in the
the two points in last row, repeat from *.
chain. of Mignardise and
Take another piece
it\. Ou the other side of the Mignardise
unite to the 2d loop, 3 chain, miss one loop,
work 5 chain, 1 double into every other loop.
double into next loop of the first piece of Mig-
nardise, 3 chain, unite to 2d loop of second piece
Edging No. 2.
of Mignardise, repeat to the end.
Materials. Same as No. 1.
2d row. Commence in the 2d loop 3 chain,
1st TOW. 1 treble in the 2d loop of the Mig- take another piece of Mignardise and work in
nardise, 5 chain, 1 treble, in next loop but one, the same manner as before. At both outer
5 chain, repeat to the end of the length required. edges work thus : commence in the 2d loop, 5
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 367

chain, miss i loop, doable into next, repeat to the top, to shape the pnrse, and finished off in
the end. the same manner, 12 stitches from the end of
the row. The two following rows are then
worked, commencing each one a little lower
CROCHET PURSE, down, and then the purse is crocheted in si raiglit
t:T BLUE BILK AND STEEL DEADS. rows again until it is finished. On referring to

3fnt^inU. One hud a half skeins of blight bloe parse the illustration, it will be clearly seen where
ilk one bunch of Rteol h^ads. Ko. 7 a few needlefats
; ; the length of the rows is diminished. Tlie
of maizeMiolored parse silk ; a steel clai<p. purse is sewn together on each side about half
way, and is ornamented rnmid
with a fringe of beads but be- ;

fore doing this the crochet is

embroidered in little diamonds
in maize purse silk. The clasp
is then neatly stitched on, and

the purse is complete.

EDGING IN WAVY BRAID

AND CROCHET.

!l!iiii!i';r

iiiiiii

;|i;:..|IU,.
I

-
'l^llliil iliiil

111

\k-

This little edgingwili be found

useful for trimming many arti-
cles of the wardrobe ; and it is

especially snitable for children's

Thread sufficient steel beads on the silk be-
fore commencing to work, and make a chain
the length of the two sides of the parse. Work
dresses, being firm and durable.
It iscomposed of a mixture of fancy braid and
crochet. To commence, take a piece of wavy
br.aid double the length that will be reqnired,
;

in doable crochet in straight rows, breaking off on which work a row of point de Bnixelles,
the silk at each end and commencing a fresh double the braid, m.aking the points meet,
row. A steel bead is pnt at regal.ir intervals. and with No. 40 crochet cotton sew the points
When the centre of the work is reached, the together, passing the thread down the middle
row mnst be commenced about 12 stitches from line. Commence the crochet with No. 16 ot
TOI,. LXTII. 3U
 ; I

868 godey's ladt's book and magazine.

the same cotton, and make a chain of nine ;

is finished with another row of point de Brux-
loop into the point of the braid, and continue elles. Leaving out this last row and repealing
to the end. Fqr the second row of crochet the crochet to match the other side, makes a
chain six ; loop into the centre of the last row pretty light insertion corresponding with the
chain four, loop in again on to the same, and edging, the two being thus arranged for accom-
continue thus working to the end. This com- panying each other.
pletes the crochet. The other edge of the braid

BIRD-CAGE BORDER IN CROCHET,

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Amoss ilomestic pets there are none which protection from the habit which they have of
seem to claim so much care and attention as scattering their seed and water, and thus giving
the delicate and fragile little canary, which is an air of nntidiness to the apartment in which
80 great a favorite among ladies, from its capa- they are located. As a substitute an ornamental
bility of tuition and strong attachment. There crochet border is frequently adopted, which has
is now much taste displayed in the cages which a prettier effect, and is quite as efficacious. We
are intended for the reception of those little now give a pattern for this purpose for working
birds, which charm us with their song, but In crochet, and which, when arranged round
they have not all the border of perforated metal the lower part of the cage, has quite an orna-
which is sometimes added for the purpose of mental appearance. It is worked in the solid

WORK DEPARTMENT, 869

and t'liain crochet, which is so easy to execute t\ie front of the work (in the loop of the last
from auy given patlern, tliat it requires no stitch but one in the former row), in the 7M and
instruction beyond looking at the engraving. Sth rows.
It is a great improreuient to add to the point 9th Magenta. Knit across in plain, and back
of each Vandyke a tassel of fvhite cotton. in open work.
lOf/i, 11(A, and I2th Brown. Plain knitting,

increasing one on the left, as before, iu each of

FANCY BAG. the three rows.
13M Green. Across in
plain, and back in open work,
as above, increasing one.
lith,\bth.andltilhBrmrn.
Plain knitting, increasing
one on the left, as before, in
15M and 16th rows.
17M yitiyi-ula. Across in
and b.ick in open work.
plain,
18M, 19M, and 20M
Brown. Plain knitting, in-
creasing one, precisely as
before, in 19(A and 2(Jif/i rows.

21st Green. Across plain-

ly, and back in open work.
22(f,23rf, and 24lh Brown.
Plain knitting, increasing
one, as above, in the '23d and
2ilh.
2^ith Magenta. Across in
plain, and back in open work.
2li(/i,27(/i,on(/2S(* Broirn.
Plain knitting, increasing
one, as before, in the 27(A
and 28(A rows only.
29th Green. Across in
plain, and back in open work.
3Cl(/i Brown. Plain knit-
ting.
This bag !s made of scarlet velvet, braided 5\st Brown. Knit plainly sixteen stitches
with gold braid. It is bouml with gold braid, only, for the thumb, turning back at the six-
and trimmed with two gold balls. The same teenth, and leaving the other stitclies (which
design is suitable for chain stitch. should now be forty-four) on the pin.
ZldBrown. Plain knitting.
ZZd Magenta. Across in plain, and back in
IXSTRUCTIONS FOR KNITTED MITTENS
AND CUFFS. open work.
MITTE.\'S FOB LITTLE GIBLS OF EIUUT OR TEX Mth, 3'>th, and 3Sth Brown. Plain knitting.
TEAKS OLD. 37(A Green. Across in plain, and back in
Hair brown, Magenta, or pink, and bright open work.
green. Three pius. No. IS. Forty-six to fifty 38(A, 39M, and 40lh Brown. Plain knitting.
stitches. Cast on fifty stitches in Magenta. 41st Magenta. Across in plain knitting, and
1st ron-i[aijenta. Plainly knit across, and back in open work, as before.
back in open work that is, by putting the
;
42d M'igenta. Across and back in open
wool forward and taking two together. work.
id, Zd, and 4lh
Browti. Plain knitting. Cast off the sixteen stitches loosely. Recom-
5th Green. Across in plain, and back in open mence at the 31( row for the hand, beginning
work, as before. at the right siile.
6(/i, 7(A, and Sth-^Brown. Plain knitting, 31st and 32d Brown. Plain knitting, adding
increasing one stitch on the lejl hand side, in one stitch, on the left, in both rows.


370 godet's lady's book and magazine.

33d Magenta, Across in plain, aud back in
open work.
34l!i, Zltth, and 3Qth Brown. Plain knitting.
Zlth Green. Across plainly, aud back in
open work.
3&th, 39(A, and Hdtli
Brown. Plain knitting.
Alst Magenta. Across in plain, aud back
in open work.
42rf Magenta. Across aud back in open
work.
Cast off loosely, and for the other mitten,
etc., see previous directions.

DESIGN FOR BERLIN WORK.

This pattern, which may be continued to any
size, aud may be worked either in double or
single wool, is executed in seven shades of the
same color, commencing with black and ending
with white. It consists of long stitches made
on four or six threads of the canvas, whichever
is preferred, worked iu a slanting direction,

and the top portions of the points are filled in

with smaller stitches, to make the design com- the meeting of the two rows of stitches. Crochet
plete. Down the centre of e.ich pattern a long silk or beads might here be very well intro-

Stitch of gold cord or fine chenille is put to bide duced.

BRAIDISO PATTERN.

INSERTION FOR SKIRTS.

 WORK DEPARTMENT. 371

Take of brown Norway pine leaves, which have

RUSTIC ORNAMENTS. been well soaked in warm water, twelve leaves,
A WREATH OF ADTUM.V LKATBS. or six pairs, and with flue brown cotton sew
Dpkino the nutumn months nature freely the ends to one corner of the basket, twist and
flings them at our feet, ami if we pause to ex- fasten tliem to the opposite corner then sew
;

aaiiue these autumn leares, we shall discover them on, making a short stitch on the inside

'^^mzZuZiZZZU.ULCL
much beauty in their varied tints of brown, of the basket,and a long one on tbe outside,
red, and yellow. and press a good
Collect drawing the thread down among the leaves.
variety of them, and preserve
them in the following ornamen-
tal way, and you will have a
picturedeservingas mucli notice
as any modern Grecian or Ori-
ental.
Have a wood, or stiff paste-
board frame of an oval shape,
and about ten by twelve inches
inside, and three in width. Co-
ver the frame with autumn
leaves, laying them in form of
a wreath, and fastening them
with glue. Vamisli with white
varnish, .md when dry, fasten
BtOf qf Side.
into the frame a sheet of Tiue
drawing paper. This gives a finish to the edge of the basket.
Cut of thin pasteboard the Finish the bottom the same way, only mak
shapes 1, 2, and 3. Sew them to- the twist nearly twice as large.
gether, and tliey form one side For the bail, sew inside thp basket, and each
of a basket. Qlue over the edge, side of the bail ten pairs of leaves, twist, and
bring them forward of the bail then twist
;

them all together, and fasten them at the end

and top part of the bail. Cut away the lower
part of the pasteboard bail. Now take two
Baa. BilfnfBMam. beech leaves, the color of the pine leaves cot ;

and on the bail some light brown cambric. off the stem end of each, and glue them on the
30*
372 godey's lady's book and magazine.

basket as seen in the engraving, hiding the with autumn leaves, reaching within two or
edges under the leaves. three inches of the top, and hanging over the
This piece of a baslcet must be glued on to sides of the basket. Varnish the leaves and
the paper iu the frame, two or three inches basket with white varnish.
from the lower part of the frame, and filled

BRAIDISO PATTERN.

ALPHABET OF FANCY LETTERS, FOR MARKING. .

1
 BKCKIPT3. 873

wooden spoon. It sboald be the of same consistency a

^vcccipts, ;^*c. good cream ; add a little more salt, if requisite, and a
little mace if approved of. This makes light and nour-
ishing food for invalids.
MISCELLANEOUS COOKING. Fried Potatoes. Peel the potatoes, cut them into
A CHAPTER OF PRB5CII COOKKKT. very thin slices, and fry them with a little butter, lard,

BoriLi.i. Tho rump of beef is tlio host piece to beem- or dripping. They will eat crisp, and form a nice

ploy^ed for thU dish. Tie it roaod, put it ia ft Rtowpan, accorapauiment to cold moat. Another way !*, when
toclE, aad let it ntew gootly for three
they are peeled, to cut them round and round, as in
vilh water or
Lonrs. The dish maj be varied by serviag it Tarioosly peeling an apple, until they are qviite cut up, then fiv

fc'aruished. It may be covered with opriga of parsley, tbem brown and crisp in a pan nearly full of melted
lard or oil. Spread them on a di.sh before the fire tudry,
or it may be sarroaudod with (ttnall unious and other
vej^'otablen, with fried oqIoqs, or laid iu a bed of
or and seaston tbem with pepper aud salt.
wator-cress, whioh looks exccediogly pretty. To Cook a Fresh Beef To.nmice. Choose a moderate
A Fke.^ch Maiobe Sorp. Tako a large lamp of batter shed beef tongue, boil it gently in wator until It is suffl-
and a tablospoonful of Soar; browQ them io tho sauce* cieutly tender for the skin to be stripped from it. Trim

jtaa Id which the soup U to be made then chop up ;

it neatly round the root. Put into a saucepan a quarter
fioely some carrots, onions, celery, sorrel, and potatoes, ponnd of butter, one tablespoonful of flour, half au onion
aud mix them together; pat them Into the saacepaa, cut up into small slices, salt and pepper to taste. Let

with pepper and Aalt, ponr boiliag water over tbem, these dissolve gently at the side of the fire nntil the

and let tbem stew over the fire fur three or four houn* butter boils. Place the tongue into the.se ingredients,

they can hardly simmer too long. A little thyme, pars- and let it remain until it is browned. When this is the

ley, cichs, and mint are a great improTement added to

capc take it on a hot dish by the side of (he
ont, place it

fire, and add to the gravy two wineglassfals of red wine

the other ingredients.
(either port or claret), a large teaspoonful of made mus-
ESTRBRS TO 6B MADE OF BeEF WHICH DAS BEES COOKED
tard, and one of walnut ketchnp. When these are well
TO MAKE Soup:
mixed, return the tongue into the grnvy. and simmer
Bctttf nti Graiin. Most readers know bat there may gently for ten minute**, taking care that the saucepan is
be one here and there who may like to be reminded
closely covered to kwp in the aroma. When served, the
that ati ffratin is a mode of cookery in which the fire ia
tongue should be cut into thick slices, and handed.
applied above as w<^ll as below, the lid of the vessel
being formed to hold hot charcoal. Melt some batter at
Mei.tkd BrTTER. Mix a tablespoonful of flour quite
the bottom of the stewpan. add to it flue brea<i-crum8 or smoothly with a little cold water. Add to this half a
raspings, and place in a circle thin slices of tho beef. pint of water in a clean .vaucepan, stir iu two ounces of

Place over them some little pieces of butter, parsley butter, and stir the mixture over the fiie until it is saffl-

chopped fine, a sprinkle of salt, and a little broth. Lot ciently cooked, and looks thick and rich. The thicken-
it cook gently, with the fire above and below. ing properties of flour vary very much: if, therefore,

Batu/ en Sfirnton. Cat some onions in slices, and the melted butler does not thicken with the tablespoonful

partly fry them la batter, add a sprinkle of flour, and of flour named, a little more may be dusted in from the
tarn them about nntil they are brown. Moisten them dredger as it cooks. Cooks consider it imperative to etir
vlth equal parts of broth and white wine, season with it only one way all the time.

salt, pepper, and a little nutmeg, add the beef, cut in To Stew Oystfrs, Take three dozen oysters, open
thin slices, and let It alt stew together for a quarter of them, and put their liquor into a saucepan, with a little
an hour. At the moment of serving, add a little mus- beaten mace and cayenne pepper: tliick^n with flour
tard to the gravy. and butter, and boil for five rainntes. Toast a slice of

Bceuf en T'lViai^rf/c Cut some slices of the beef bread and cut it into sippets, which lay round the dish.
when cold, and place them in a salad-bowl. Cover Add half a teacupful of cream to the liquor iu the sance-
them with fillets of auchovy, or of very good red her- pan ;
in the oysters, and stir them round continu-
put
rings garniiih them with chives, chervil, and other fine
;
ously. They should not boil if they are allowed to do
;

herbs, .chopped very fine, and pickles sliced. Seasoa 80, they shrink and become bard. Serve them up hot.
I
with pepper, add oil and vinegar, and (>erve without
Fried TIam and Enos. The slices ofliam should first
stirring the mixture.
be boiled a trifle. Put a bit of lard in the frying-prn.
Jl(e'{fala Jf.*>u7^r<. Take about twenty rather small After the slices liave been dipped in flo'ir, place them ia
onions, brown them in a frying-pan with a little butter,
the hot fat. Sprinkle pppper. When both side.^ are
and when they have taken a bright color, sprinkle over browned, dish with snfficipnt gravy. Slip the
finely
them a little flour or some bread cruras. Remove tho Cook
eggs into the fet. avoiding to break llie yelk.
onioui! to a stewpan, taking care not to break them.
I slowly, and separate each egg witli a knife. When
I
Add a teacup of broth, the piece of beef whole, a sufB-
done, place them in a chain around the meat.
and nutmeg, and a bou-
cient seasoning of salt, pepper,
'

qaet of aweet herbs. Let the whole simmer over a slow

Hamburg Pickle for Sai.tisa Beef. To four gal-
I
lons of water add sufficient common
which, wh^'n salt,
fire for about two hours. Serve the beof ou a dish, and
dissolved in the water, will be strong enough to bear nn
arrange the onions roood U.
egg, put in fonr ounces of saltpetre, and half a p.>und <.f
. Bablbt CBBAM.Tako two pounds of perfectly lean very brown sugar. B')il all well together, and skim It
veal; chop it wtll. Wash thoroughly half a pound of clean strain it off, and when cold put In the beef. Let
;

pearl barley ;
put it Into a saucepan with two quarts of the pickle cover the meat, and iu ten days it will be fit
water and some salt. Let all simmer gently together for use, or you may keep the meat In for two months,
Take oat the bones, and
until rednced to one quart. taming it daily, and at the end of six weeks bulling
rab the remainder throogh a fine hair sieve with a op the pickle and skimming it afreiih.
 374 godey's lady's book: and magazine.

CAKES, PUDDINGS, ETC. milk, one teaspoonful cream tartar, one of saleratus,
both thrown on the butter, sugar, aud eggs; then add
Corn Cake for Breakfast. Mix at night one quart
the milk, then the flour, stir quickly, spice to taste.
of corn meal with hot \rater eaougb to make a thin
Sift a little sugar on the cake, and bake immediately.
batter, adding a tahlespoonful of yeast, and ealt to suit
the taste. In the moi'Dinp Ptir in two eggs and a small Rice Pudding. One quart milk, one cup rice, four
teaspoonful of soda, and with a spoon beat it long and eggs yelks beaten as custards baked. The whites ati
frosting.
hard. Butter a tin pan, pour the mixture into it, and
bake immediately about half an hour in a moderately Sponge Pudding
One pound sugar, one pound flour,
heated oven. one dozen eggs well beaten. Steam two hours.
Transparent Pudding Six egg-s, half a pound of Vkrt Light Bunns. One pound and a qup.rter of fine
sugar, half a pound of butler ; melt the butter and sugar flour, sixounces fresh butter, eight ounce!* ump sugar ]

together; beat the eggs well, and stir them in it while bruised, two ounces candied lemon, twelve ounces cur-
warm ;
giate in some nutmeg ; bake on pastry. rants, three teaspoonfula of baking powder, five eggs

Rice Meringue. Swell gently four ounces of rice ia

or a little cream, or six eggs. Beat the eggs well, and
a pint of milk, au ounce and
let it cool a little, and stir
mix all together; bake in small tart, or queeii*cako

a half of fresh better, three ounces of pounded white

tins, in a quick oven.

sugar, the rind of a lemon, and the yelks of five eggs. Baked Apple Pudding, Twelve ounces of fine flonr,

Pour the mixture into a well-buttered dish, aud lay four ounces suet chopped fine, one teaspoonful of baking
lightly and evenly over the top the whites of four eggs powder, and a little salt. Mix with cold water to s
beaten to snow. Bake the pudding for ten minutes in & paste have ready a well-buttered basin or mould that
;

gentle oven. will hold a quart roll out the paste and line the basin,
;

leaving a little for the top; fill it with apples pared

To Make Batter Pancakes.- Beat up three eggs with
aud cored; add golden syrup aud sugar; roll out the
four large tablespoonfuls of flour; add to these half a
pint of milk, or as much as will make the batter the
paste for the cover, moistening tbe edges to make it

consisteocy of cream, and a little salt, Fry them in

stick ; fresh suet fiom a loin of mutton is the beet.

lard or butter. Orate sugar over the top of each of

Thirty-five to forty niinuteg will bake it, turn out upon
a dish, and serve.
them, and serve directly they are cooked. The juice of
a lemon is generally addfcd when eaten. A small fryiug-
THE TOILET.
pan is the best for the purpose.
To Make Soft Pcmatcm. Beat half a pound of nn-
To Make Wafer Pancakes. Beat up well four eggs ;
salted fresh lard in cummon water ; then soak and beat
add two spoonfuls of fine Qour, aftd two of cream one ;
it in two rose-waters, drain it, and beat it with two
ouoce of finely-sifted sugar, and, if approved of, part of
spoonfuls of brandy; let it drain from this; add to it
a grated nutmeg. Rub the frying pan well with a little
some essence of lemon, and keep it in small pots.
eold butter. Pour the batter in as thin as a wafer fry ;
Or : Soak half a pound uf clear becf-inarrow and one
it only on one side. Put them on a dish, and throw
pound of unsaltod fresh lard in water two or three
sifted sugar over each pancake, aod serve them hot to
days, changing and beating it every day. Put it into a
table.
sieve, and, when dry, into a jar, and the jar into a
Harrison Cake. Two cups of molasses, one cup of saucepan of water. When melted, pour it into a basin,
butter, one cup sugar, one cup sour cream, one teaspoon- aud beat it with two spoonfuls of brandy drain ofi" the ;

ful cloves, one ofsaleratus, two teacups currants. But- brandy, and then add essence of lemon, bergamot, or
ter melted with molasses and poured into three or four any other scent that is liked.
cups of flour theo add sugar and half the cream put
;
; Hard Pomatum. Prepare equal quantities of beef-
in the rest of tbe cream wlieo you have dissolved the marrow and mutton brandy to
suet as before, using the
saleratns in it. Then take enough more flour to make preset ve and adding the scent then pour it into
it, ;

it about as thick as cup cakes stir it ten or fifteen ;

moulds, or if you have none, into phials of the size you
minutes, add the currants, and bake it iu pans like cup choose the rolls to be. When cold, break the bottles,
cake.
clear away the glass carefully, and put paper around
Leche Cream. Beat p the yelks of three eggs, and the rolls.
the white of one ; add to them a quarter of a pound of Or : Take equal quantities of marrow, melted and
powdered sugar mix gradually tliree ounces of arrow-
; strained, lard, and castor oil ; warm all together; add
root and two ounces of flour, and then a pint aud a half any scent you plenae ; stir until cold, and put into pots.
of milk boil it up gently, stirring continually until
;
Paste for Chapped Hands. Mix a quarter pound of
thick take it off the fire aud continue to stir uutil it is
;
unsalted hog's lard, which has been washed in soft
a little cooled. Place sponge-cake at the bottom of a water, and then rose-water, with the yelks of two new-
buttered dish, and pour tbe leche cream over them. A and a large spoonful of honey. Add as much
laid eggs,
flavoring of either lemon-peel, vanilla, or cinnamon Is fineoatmeal or almond-paste as will work into a paste.
an improvement. Or : Blanch one pound of bitter almonds, pound thena
Cream Cakes- Half pound butter, three-quarters of a smooth in a marble mortar add hiilf an ouuce of cam-
;

pound of flour, one pint water ; boil your butter and phor, one ounce of honey, a quarter pound of sperma-
water together, and while boiling stir in the flour; ceti, all pounded, and mixed with the almonds, till it
then let it cool, and add ten eggs the whites beaten sepa- becomes a smooth paste. Put it into jars or china
rately half teaspoonful of soda grease your pans well,
; ; boxes, and tie it down till wanted.
drop a large spoonful, leaving space enongh for them to A Very Fine Scent. Take six drachms of oil of laven-
rise. Bake about forty-flve minutes in a moderate oven. der, three of the essence of berg'amot, sixty drops of
Cheap Cakb. Two cupa white sugar, three of flour, ambergris, and two grains of musk. Mix these into a
A piece of batter sise of an egj^, two eggs, one cap of pint of the best rectified spirits of wine.
 ;

RECEIPTS. 375

MISCELLANEOUS. Bath brick, or rottenstone. A piece of flannel should be

oiled, and then sprinkk>d with either of the above-named
To Cue AS Calicu FL-RSiTrEB Shake off the loose
powders, and well rubbed uver every part of the article,
dust, thcD lightly b^u^h uich a small luug-halreU fur-
till every f>p6t and soil is removed. Tliey should then
niture-brush ; after which wipe tt closely with, clean
be polished with soft wash leather. The inner part of
flannels, and rub it with dry breud. If properly done,
tinned vessels should be well cleaned with soap and
the curtuiaa will look nearly as well as at first ; and, if
water, and then thoroughly washed with clean warm
the color be not light, lhy will not require watthiu^ for
water, aud put a.'^ti.y perfectly dry. A solution of oxa-
years. Fold ia large parcels, and put carefully by.
lic acid iu water gives brass a fine color; aud vitriol
While the furniture remains up, it should be preserved
and spirits of salts make brass and copper very bright
from the sua and air as much ax possible, which injure
but they soon tarnish, and, therefore, require more fre-
delicate colors; and the dust may be blown off with
quent clciiuing. A strong tye of rock alum and water
bellows.
Will also improve the appoiirauce of brass.
By the above mode curtains m;iy bo kept clean, evea
Simple Disinfectant. Cut two or three good-eized
to use wiih the linings nowty dipped.
onions in halves, aud place them on a plate on the
To Give TO BuARDii a BEAPtrprL Appearance. After floor they absorb noxiouseftluvia, etc., in the sick-room
;

waxhiug them very nicely with soda, and warm water,

in an inciodibly sliort space of time, aod are greatly to
and a brush, wash them with a very large sponge and They
be preferred to perfumery for the same purposes.
clean water. Doth times observe to leave no spot an-
should be changed every six hours.
touched and clean straight up and down, not crossing
;

from buiird to board then dry with clean cloth.<i, rubbed

;
How To Get Off a Tioiit Ring. Thread a needle flat

in the eye with a strong thread, pass the head of the

hard up and down in the same way.
needle with care under the ring, and pull the thread
The floors should not be often wetted, but very tho-
through a few inches towards the haud wrap the long ;
roughly when done and once a week di y rubbed with
;

end of the thread tightly roudd the finger regularly all

hot sand and a heavy brut<h, the right way of the
down the nail to reduce its size, then lay hold of the
boards.
short end aud unwind it. Tho thread repassing against
The sides of stairs, or passages on which are carpets
the ring, will gradually remove it from the finger. This
or floor-cloth, should be washed with sponge instead of
never-failiug method will remove the tightest ring
linen or flaunel, and the edges will not be soiled. Dif-
without difB.calty, however much swollen the finger
ferent spitnges should be kept for the abovetwo uses ;
may be.
and those and the brushes should be well washed when
done with, and kept in dry places. CONTRIBUTED RECEIPTS.
To Extract Oil from Boards or Stoxe. Make a strong Thb following receipts have been kindly forwarded
lye of pearlashes and soft water, and add as much un-
to us by a correspondent ; we insert them for the benefit
filacked lime as it will take upand then
; stir it together,
of our readers:
let it settle a few minutes: bottle and stop close; it,

bave ready some water to lower it as used, and scour To Clean Silk (black or colored). Mix spirits of
the part with it. If the liquor should lie long on the wine with water, sponge on the right side, and iron on
boards, it will draw out the color of them therefore, do the wrong it wilt look new again.
;
;

it with care and expedition. To Make Water Soft. Boil bran in it.
To Cleas Stose Stairs and Halls. Boll one ponnd FoK Making Hashs Soft. Mix houey, olive oil, and
of pipe-clay with a quart of water, a quart of smalt beer, almond meal. Use when washing then wear gloves. ;

and put in a bit of st Joe-blue. Wash with this mixture, Maccaboni Creese (simply done). Boil the macca-
and, when dry, rub the stones with flannel and a brush. roni in milk; put in the stewpan butter, cheese, and

To Remote Ibos-Mocld. Salts of lemon, mixed with seasoning ; when melted, pour into the maccaroni, put-
ting bread-crums over, which brown before the fire all
"warm water and rubbed over the mark, will, most pro-
together.
bably, remove tha stains.
Antjilter Watj.
Throw on the stain a small quantity Welph
Rabbit. A slice of bread laid in a tin dish,
of the dry powder of magnesia, rubbing it slightly in buttered, and mustard laid over it pieces of cut cheese ;

with the finger, leaving it there for an honr or two, and laid also on the bread and butter; pour two or three

then brushing it off, when it wilt be found that the tablespoonfuls of ale put into the oven until slightly
;

fitain has quite disappeared. Apply it on the wrong brown.

side of the dre^s, if not Hoed but it matters not which.
; Cheese Omelet. Mix to a smooth batter three table-
As some colors are spoiled even by water, it will be spoonfuls of fine flour, with half a pint of milk. Beat
found safer to use dry magnesia. up well the yelks and whites of four eggs, a little salt,
Brass and Coppkh Vessels reqnire to be well and and a quarter pound of grated Parmesian or old English
often cleaned, both inside and out. Indeed, the tho- cheese. Add these to the flour and milk, and whisk all
rongh cleansing of all vessels in which victuals are the ingredients t'tgether for half an hoar. Put three
cooked, ia not only desirable in point of neatness and onnces of butter into a frying-pan, and when It is boiling
fihow for most servants make a display of them bnt pour iu the above mixture, fry it for a few minutes, and
re^-ads the flavor and the
it is actually necessary, as it then turn it carefully when It la sufllciontly cooked on
;

wholesomeness of the food cooked in them, whether the other side, turn it on to a hot dish and serve.

solid joints or soups, ragonts, etc. And these remarka Mr. Godp.v: I send you the following receipt for clean-
apply moto fu'ly to vessels made of c>)iper or brass, ing crape, hoping you will give it a place in your Book.
than to tin and imn ware the canker which they con-
; Brush tho veil till all the dust is removed, theu fold
tract being absolutely poisonous. Bra<is and copper, ft lengthwise, and roll it smoothly and tightly on a

whether cooking ntenlls, candlesticks, or other articles, roller. Steam it till It is thornaghly dampened, and drj
afe best cleaned with waet oil and tripoli, or powdered on the roller.
 !

Htijxs' S^aih.
WOMAN: Let ns pause here one moment, at this stand point of
God's Church, inaugurated after the Fall, aod contem-
HER PLACE IN THE CHURCH.
plate her glorious triumph, as the beloved Apostle pic-
A woman clothed with the buq. aod the moon nnder tures it in the chapter from which we have quoted.
her feet, and on her bead a crown of twelve stars.
Rev. xii. 1. It is WOMAN who, in the Apocalypse, represents tha
glory of the redeemed Church. Mark how she is perse-
PcKE religion on earth: is it not the intercourse or
cuted by Satan ! how she is succored by Divine interpo
sympathy of the human soul with the Divine Spirit?
sition! how surely she is to be glorified by Divine
Was not the perfect religion of the Eden pair shown in
G race
their inteicourse with their Creator, when "the Lord
Is not this the blessed rainbow painted on the black
6od walked in the garden?" and their miserable Fall,
clouds of woman's history? It was the woman from
was it not fitly expressed in their hiding from Him,
Eden who held for earth the promise of salvation. It
when they felt their robes of innocence were lost?
Wilis tlie wtniuui to whom the Devil bore ^^enmify." It was
The man and the woman constituted the first Church
and has been, from that day to this, agan.nst the honor
of God on earth their perfect worship was love; their
;

and happiness, the goodness and iutelligence of woman

pare offering was obedience. They sinned together
that " the Devil aod his angels" have fought their most
when withholding this obedience, and both stood con-
subtle and devouring battles. How these enemies of God
demned before their righteons Judge. Their lives were
and woman have succeeded in engulfiug and destroy-
forfeited the Church was ruined all was lost
; How ; !

ing "the glory of the man," while crushing out the

could there be intercourse or sympathy between holi-
mind, and heart, and soul of his "help-meet," let the
ness and sin, between God aod Satan?
Oh the infinite love and mercy and goodne^^s of the history of polygamy tell Polygamy seems Satan's
!

most potent device for destroying all good in humanity.

Creator in devising the way of salvation, when His
pitying Fatherhood softened the stern justice of the
The history of the Church is, in the Bible, inwoven in
its spiritual development, with the story of the moral
Ruler of the Universe! We read this in the reprieve of
His guilty children from immediate death we read it
power of women who, through and by Divine help, have
;

infiuenced in the right way the characters and lives of

in the precious promise made the woman that God would
*^
put enmity" between Jier tmd Satan, because we thereby
know that our heavenly Father did, then
plant anew the seeds of moral goodness in the heart of
humanity. And then, in the glorious announcement or
prophecy, that "the seed of the woman should bruise
the serpent's head," did not the Lord God re-establish
His covenant or Church on earth ?
In this manifestation of Divine Love to the first sin-
ners we find the lony provided for the expression of hu-
man woiship towards the only true God worship that
would be required of His church as the exponent
men, when these had charge of the worship of the true
God. We alluded, in our last paper, to the special
and there, im-
Providence that saved Sarah from the' pollution {GeTU
xii.) to which Abram would have consigned her, and
thus ruined himself as well as the Church. Sarah's
faith also preserved the inheritance for Isaac the true
heir. Rebekah's faith won the blessing ichich God had
promised tier should be given to Jacob. Could the true
Church have been perpetuated through Ishmaelor Esau ?
;
The Hebrew Church, which included the Common-
of true
wealth, established, by the special lawsof Moses, through

religion on earth. Divine inspiration, bears the impress of Ahnigbly power

Woman was to keep the trueher heart, exem-
faith in and mercy in sustaining the weaknesses and mitigating
plifying and teaching it in her and love
life of purity the sorrows of woman ; it does this in such a marked
;

manner as makes her seera the favorite of her heavenly

of self-sacrifice and faithfulness in duty of obedience to ;

her husband and careful training of her children, and in Father. How strikingly this is exemplified in the

humble submission to her lot.

Hebrew laws and commands concerning that most help-
Man was to show forth his true faith In his life-long less, desolate, and wronged class of human beings the

struggle for dominion over the earth doing his hard ;

WIDOWS* of the land For the childless widow in her
!

work and thankfulness; tenderly support-

in humility youth an honorable marriage was provided. For the
ing and protecting his own household governing him- desolate widow and her fatherless children God himself
;

self in obedience to the laws of God written in the human

stood a protector, provider, and judge. Woe to the

heart,* and by conformity to the natural laws controlling *"

the works of God these he was to seek, discover, and
obey, while following implicitly the Divine inspirations,
commandments, and precepts that were to guide him in
his religious ceremonials, sacrifices, and sacraments,
representing the soul's fealty to God and penitence for
sin all these were to be exclusively under man's con-
trol. In other words, Vae forms of the Church, its out-
ward embodying and laws were to be the work of men
Contrast these Hebrew statutes and customs with
those of all heathen nations concerning uidoics, aud you
will see how Satan's "enmity to the woman" has suc-
ceeded in degradintr and destroying her sex aud, with it,
the race of mankind. This miserable record is written
the world over that all men who reject the true G>'d
reject, also, or labor to destroy the spiritual and mental
Influence of woman. Her mind has been kept in igno-
rance that she might be made subservient to man's pride
or the dupe of his superstitions; licentiousness and
:
polygamy have degraded her into the toy of his plea-
sures or the slave of his lusts and selfishness till even ;

the ftiHh of the Church or its inward life was in the now, in this nineteenth century of Christian light, three-
keeping of women. fourths of the living world of women have no power for
good, and no means of spiritual improvement conse- ;

* See Komans, chap. ii. quently, the men have neither goodness nor "glory.'*
376
 !
editors' table.
Hebrew man who dared do evil to the true widow and
her fatherloKs chitdrco
The mother of tho family wa^, hy the Decalogoe lis
well as in tho special Inxr^ of the Hebrews, enliiled to
tho same honor and obcdicnre from hi-r children an were
due to the father. No human code ha^i thus sustained
the mother's honor and authority.
Iq the Hebrew Chnrch women enjoyed more freedom
than mon, because the women had the prWilepe of at-
lefflin^' all the feasts and convocations
if they chose, or
they mii;ht stay at home appeared to them their
if this
duty. The men were compelled to go np three times
eafh year to worship beforo the Lord.
Does not this prove that Cod, who knows the heart,
saw He could trust woman? that she
the faith of the
would worship him home? but that man re-
in spirit at
quired the aid uf outward observances, in which ho was
compelled to join to strenpthen his faith In the f'piritnal,
or he would, inevitably, relapse (as Aaron did at Sinai)
into the earthly, tho idolatrous, the sinful?
Many other instances of Ood's favor towards woman.
shown in tho laws for His chosen people, mijrht be cited
if we had room all strcnfftheninjj our propo!<iiioos that
; portunities of doing good. The dawn of a brighter day
the moral destiny of the world U in the keppins,' of the
weaker sex ; and that woman is the conservator of re-
ligious faith tho world over, whether that fiiilh he true
or false.
There is no record of an apostate or *' wicked" Hebrew
woman ; tho men who led the Church and people into
idolatry had first broken God's law of n.arriaire by an
alliance with heathen women. An. I (hat tho(>o heathen
wives had such influence over tlieir Hihrew husbands
proves, conclusively, the stronijer moral or spiritual
power of the feminine nature, whether exerted iu the
cause of error or of troth.
The relifrious influence of Hebrew women is always
represented as conservative of their faith, until the nltD.
or government in Church and State, were wholly given
over to idolatry. Even then instances of faithful women
are recorded who had sympathy with tho chosen
prophets of the Lord as the widow of Sarepta. who for-
(TOt that she and her son we:e siarvinfj while she fed
Elijah ; and the woman of Shuuem, who recoj;nizedand
provided for Elisha.
When the last stage of spiritnal degeneracy had been
reached, and Jerusalem wa.s ripe for destruction, and
the Old Covenant of Work-;, so often broken and dis-
honored, was to be superseded by the JS'ew Covenant
of Justification by Faith in Jesus Christ, then the wo-
man's soul was found ready to meet and welcome the
Spiritual Church. Three Hebrew women rejoiced over
Ibe infant Saviour, each with a song of thanksgiving
or a blessing of joy, while but one Hebrew man camo
to do Him homage. At the Cross of Christ the pro-
portion of His devoted followers was similar, thr^e
women to one man. Such has, probably, been the dif-
ference of numbers between the sexes who have, since
that time, united with the Church of Christ, voluntarily,
and been true to the end. This we iiifcr from the pro-
portions of members in our Americrfu churches three
women to one man.
As, in the Old Dispensation, tho Church of tho Gospel
was, in its public mini.strations and outward observ-
ances, placed entirely under tho government of mon.
For this purpose the twelve had been chosen or com-
pelled to follow Christ. He had taught and prepaicd
them for the service of founding His church.
Women came
to Christ of their own acc.rd. Lovingly
He received their ministrations, tenderly He soothed
their sorrows, warmly praised their love, and faith, and
works, naming one as ieorthy;fn tf>>rl'l-wiiUmfmorml
;
confiding to their sex only His ppiritual mission, and
making women messengertiof His will even to His chosen
ApoHEles.
Do we not find in these examples proof Ihat Christ in-
tended woman should have place, and name, and work
io His Chnrch ?
The Apostles seem to have thus understood Him. They
employed women and publicly honored their piety and
faithful services in the inspired record, left for the
guidance of the Church in all aees. St. Panl was not
ashamed to acknowledge his obligations to the help of
women ; he tells us uf a Phebe. the dencotuss, and
Priacilla, the instructress of Apollos In the doctrines
of
377
salvation of Philip's four daughters- all prophetesses
:
(or teachers of Christ's precept-), and many others we
have not room now to naiuo: while St. John gives an
Epistle to that nnbleteacheress, the "elect lady,"' whose
children " walked in the truth."
Thus, for several centuries, woman held plac<>, duties,
and memorial in the Christian Chnrch but always un-
der the direction of men. The zeal with which these
Women sustained the faith and labors of the Apostles
and first missionaries was one of tho greatest human
elements of their success against hoatheiiism.
Wherever tho Gospel was made known women were
found ready to receive it. Queens became nursing mo-
thers of tho Church, and lovely maidens martyrs for it^i
truth. The moral influence of women changed the wor-
ship of the greater part of Europe from Heathenism to
Christianity.
Conld this humble religious influence have gone on,
unhindered, the world would, long ago, liave become
Christian. But tlie "enmity of Satan" prevailed over
the spiritual in humanity. Woman was deprived of her
offices and acknowledged influence iu tho church sho
:
has been, for moie than a tliousand years, literally, a
non-cutity iu its history with one only exception,
'*
the Sisters of Charity !"
The great benefits to humanity and to Christian cha-
racter, conferred by this noble order of devoted women,
have been acknowledged in all c.Mintries; but not till
lately have any systematic elforts been made by Chri-^tian
men to i^ive the women of Protestant lands similar op-
has come. The churches iii Europe, particularly iu
Germany, are 'loading the way in re-establishing tho
order of Deiiconesses. England is following the exam-
ple and now our American churches* are taking counsel
;
on this important qoestion.
If these papers ''On Woman." which we have pre-
pared with great care and earnest hope of helping the
good cause, have any iufluenco in directing the minds of
our readers to these subjects, we shall feel Kore cf their
sympathy and approval. Our sick country needs tho
ministeiing services of its Christian daughters. How
cau this great beueSt be permanently secured except by
organizations which havo Bible authority for their basis
and government?
The time is propitious. What inspiration declared,
nearly three thousand years ago, concerning woman,
will be veiified on eurth ;"Strength and honor are hr
clothing, and ^he shall rejoice ia time to come."
FROM A LETTFR TO THR EDITRESS.
BXTR.4,CT
Mr Dear Mrs. H.\lb: For us who believe in a Provi-
dence that out of present evil educes future good, it is
delightful to look on the bright side of this war, as it
has shown some of the best traits of womanhood.
Three year^ago. ourdaughters seemed to be inevitably
growing up idle and ignonint. Not for want of schools,
not for want of employment. For schools there were,
many and excellent aud for employment, it was press'-d
;
out of its n:itnral sphere and range, and dubbed vulgar
and beneath a refined age. Some girls knew Euciid,
and all played tne piano; but exactly Dot one could
make a pmlding, or write a receipt. A bride entered
tho hou'iekeeping state so ignorant as not to know
whether a piece of meat on the table was beef or mutton ;
and I know'one who said "calfs head" was only good
to throw away! Think of that, shades of departed
grandmothers !
In vain I have from time to time gently insinuated the
habits of the young Freueh nobility, and recommended
tho adoption of somf of their culinary accomplishments ;
in vain suggested that whatever maukiml might think of.
flue reading and writing, no lover or admirer was the
less ardent for some attention to his palate always,
mostly in vain, lectured on shirts and collars. Xmut
iivojis changi tout cdn. This is one good of the evil
times.
It would delight yon to look in or meet at the sani-
tary rooms once a week the biight faces of the young
gii Is. To be sure, they began with stitching the sleeves
into the neck of the blue woollen shitts; but what of
that? They make shirts now, and cut them loo. Then
the jellies they make; the comforts they have lv.rned
to contrive and produce for the absent loved ones '
All
the inventions to solace and soothe the feeble ones ; oh !
It is beautiful to see the growth of helpful tenderness
and self-sacrifice In the yoong girls of all ages.
See " Report made to the Convention of the Diocese
ofPennsylvania on organizing the Services of Ghxlatiaa
women,'* etc. Philadelphia: 1863.

378 GODET'S lady's book AKD MAGAZIN"E.
I don't despair now of seeing a race of women worthy
of the name thoughtful, energetic, useful women.
;
Women wbo think of something in life besides singing
and dancing, and who don't end every song with a "Ta
ral lal la !' for you will allow that was very much what
we were all cuming to. Not a corner stone for our
palaces among our daughters not a wise son to make
a glad father among our youths.
;
Alitmn^ Association op thr "Wesletax Female Col-
lege.
Cincinnati, 1S63. There was a time when the
advantages of education, founded on the solid branches
of scientific knowledge, and graced by elegant accom-
plishnieuts, could only be obtained in tlie Atlantic cities.
Young ladies were then sent to Philadelphia, New
York, or Boston at great cost of money, and often
greater cost of anxiety, from the most distant points of
the Uuion.
We are happy to know that, of late years, literary
and educational institutions have been established at
the West on a scale of liberality and excellence which
now people of each section great advantages
offers to the
in the best culture and training for youug girls that
which makes tbera intelligeut, accomplished, and use-
ful Christian ladies.
Among these institutions the Wealeyan Female Collp.ge
holds a high position, and deserves to be greatly honored.
The pupils are thoroughly trained as well as taught
nothing seems to be omitted in the list of useful or liberal
pursuits. Above all. the spirit of this seminary is. as
such institutions should be, Christian, and the be.st of
all knowledge is sedulously taught in such a tenderly
faithful manner as to be seemingly impressed into every
young heai't that imbibes its purifying nurture.
This college, as a distinguishing featuie of its happy
influences, has an "Alumnae Association," proraollug
an affectionate union and sympathy among the young
ladies, at the same time inciting them to excellence in
their various studies, and binding them to a continuance
of intercourse, if possible, and improvement during
their whole career of life. We have before us a cata-
logue numbering three hundred and sixteen members of
this association, founded in ISo^, of whom forty-one are
married, and thirty-four have died. The member-- meet
every year at Cincinnati, and celebrate their anniver-
sary with music, poetry, and original literary contribu-
tions. The tone of all their writings, whether solid
essays or sprightly letters, bears the upmistakahle im-
press of true piety and earne--t endeavor to be and to do
good- Love, sistei ly and heavenly love, is the prevail-
ing beauty and perfection of their order. Long may it
live and bear its fruit of g-joduesa and happiness.
Eugenie Be Gurrin. Tho Journal, poems, and letters
of this giftedand pious French lady have lately been
published, with a skecch of her interestiug life.
to raro talent and intelligence, she had great force of
character, with an extraordinary depth of affection;
"and all these under the control of a deep religious
feeling," says her biographer. One affection only seems
not to have been thus subject to reason; her love for
her brother Maurice is a romance of deep, self-sacrificing
feelings that nothing in life or fiction has ever surpassed.
Thus she writes in her journal, which she kept sacred
for her brother's eye only,
*'
writing has become almost a necessity to me.
I find
Whence it arise, this impnl.se to give utterance to
doe-s
'the voice of one's spirit to pour out my thoughts before
;
God and onp. hnraan being? I say ooe humau being,
hecauKe I always imagine you, Maurice, are present
that yo'i see me write. In the stillness of a life like
thi.s my spitit is happy, and, as it were, dead to all that
goes on up stairs, or down stairs, or out of the house.
But this d(jes not last."
She has to go hack to her domestic duties, which she
performs with the cheerfulness and readiness of a girl
wbo had never had a thought beyond household occu-
pations. We hope the book will be published this side
^he Atlantic.
School for Yohxg Girls. Mrs. Schaffer, an accom-
plished lady, has oppncd a school at 1037 Walnut Street,
vhich promises to become an excelleut training inBtica-
;
tion in the elementary branches of an English education.
Those who wish their young daughters carefnlly
in-
structed, would do well to try this (school.
To OUR CoRRESPOKPESTs. These articles are accepted :
'*Look on the Sea" (the other poem declined) "Faith
and Sight" "The Troubadour"~aud "Varieties."
The following articles are not needed "The World*s :
Deceit" "The Bridal Kiss" "I'll be Merry while I
Can" " Old Memories" " Upwards" "Oh,
Let Me
Hope" "The Great Conflict" " Ellen Murdock's His-
tory"" Blessings"
"A Summer Vacation" (too long)
"Vice" (the
author can do better) "Estrangement"
"The Fallen of our Battle-fields"-" A Great Prize"
" Roman Valor and American Biavery Compared" (best
for a newspaper)
"Anodynes are Poisons" Art in its
Best DevelopmoDt" (not finished) and "The World of
; Fashion."
miltj) gjprtiiuitt.
The following sensible remarks are from an essay oa I
the hardships of "Fanners' Wives" iu our country.
We can give only a few paragraphs but these may be
;
j
better than medicine to some weary and almost despair- j
ing invalid wife, who tnitst work on. Sympathy is 1
curative. So read what is said by Dr. Hall, in hiaj
Journal of Health.
farmers' wives otertaxed.
"Time, and money, and health, and even life itself, are
no^ unfrequently lost by a waut of promptitude on the
part of the farmer in making repairs about the bouse in
procuring needed things in time, and failing to have
those little conveniences which, although#their cost is
even contemptible, ai-e in a measure practically invalu-
able. I was in a farmer's house one night the wife ;
and two daughters were plying their needles industri-
ously by the light of a candle, the wick of which was
frequently clipped off by a pair of scissors. I asked the
husband why he did not bay a candle-snnffer. Oh, the '
Joined Bci.ssor3 are good enough!' And yet he owned six
hundred acres of fine grazing lands, and every inch
paid for.
" I once called on an old friend, a man of education,
and of a family, loved and honored all over his native
State. The buildings were of brick, in the centre of an
inherited farm of several hundred acres. The house
was supplied with the purest, coldest, and best water
from a well in the *rard the facilities for obtaining
;
which were a rope, one end of which was tied to a
post, the other to an old tin pan, literally. The dis-
comfort and unnecessary labor involved in these two
cases may be estimated by the reader at his leisure.
" I know it to be the case, and have seen it on many
Western farms, when firewood was wanted, a tree was
cut down and hauled bodily to the door of the kitchen ;
and when it was all gone, another was drawn np to
Bupply its place; giving the cook and wife green wood
with which to kindle and keep up their fires.
" There are thousands of farms in this country where
the spring which supplies all the water for drink and
cooking is from a quarter to more than half a mile dis-
tant from the house, and a "pailful" is brought at a
time, involving five or ten miles' walking in a day for
months and years together when a man in half a day
;
could make a slide, and with a fifty cent barrel could in


LITEBAKT NOTICES. 879

half an hour dullvor, ut the door, enough to last the From J. B. Lippincott ii Co., Philadelphia:
whule day. Howuiauy weeks of jtaiuful uud expensiro THE BOOK OF DAYS. A Miscellany of Popular An-
sickuoHt ; how mauy lives have booo lost uf wivut atid tiiiuiiies in couucctiou with the Calendar, including
diiu^'ht4>rs, aad couks, by betog ciiu^'bt iu a sbuwur bo- Anecdote, Biography and History, Curiowitiea of Litera-
twoen the hou^e aud tbu isprlag while tu a ttatu of per- Human Life and Character. Parts lA
ture aud Oddities uf
Bpiratlou or wcaknoss, fruin working over tbo llio, can* and IU have been received. Price 20 cents each. We
not bo known; but that they juay be numbered by would not bo without this work for three times its price.
thousands will not be iotolligently dented.
" Miiuy a time a pane of glaHS has been broken out, or
a shtuglo has been blown from the roof, and the repair
From D. Applktos & Co., New York, through W. P.
Hazard, Philadelptiia:
iiAn n>u beou made for weeks or many months together;
and lur want of it have come agonizing neuralgias; or a
HEAT CONSIDERED AS A MODE OF MOTION. By
John Tyndall, F. R. S., etc., Professor of Natural Phi-
child haa waked up iu the night with tbu croup, to get
lonopby iu the Royal Institution. This book contains a
well only with a doctor's bill, which would have paid
courttc of twelve lectures delivered at tbo Royal Institu-
twenty times for the repair; even if a first-born had not
tion of Groat Britain iu 1S02, the first seven of which
died, to agonize a mother's heart to the latest hour of
deal with thermometric heat, aud the coucludiug five of
life or the leak in the roof has remained, requiring the
;

placing of a bucket, or the washing of the floor at every

radiant heat. A more thorough examination of the sub-
ject, la all its divisions and bearings, than this, can
rain ; or the '
spare bed' has beeu wetted aud forgotten ;
scarcely be conceived. There are numerous fine wood-
some kiud neighbor, or dear friend has beou
visitor, or
cut illustrations of philostiphical experiments.
placed iu it wake up
to a fatAl fever, as was the ca^e
to
\rUh. the great Lord Bacon."
WAR PICTURES FROM THE SOUTH. By B. Est-
van, Colonel of Cavalry in the Confederate Army. A
history like this, written by one who, in the commence-
ment of our present national struggle, took up arms
Jiteritrii llotirfs. with the Confederates, and yet who claims to view the
subject from an independent point, "disposed to do jus-
tice to both bides," will excite the curiosity of all. He
Owirirt to tho immense increaee in the price of book?, awards great praise to many of the Federal Geuerals,
we will not receive farther orders to send by mail. It His history begins with the seoessiou of South Carolina,
never was a source of profit to as, but generally a loss, and continues to July 1, 1SG2, including the Siege of
on account of the postage we bad to pay. Richmond. Appended aro brief biographies of the more
From PBTEB30.V k BaoTHERs, Philadelphia: prominent generals on either side.
SIGHTS A-FOOT. By Wilkio Collins, author of "Tho THE HISTORICAL SIIAKSPEARIAN READER. By
Womau in White," "The Dead Secret," etc. etc A book John W. Hows, author of the "Shakspearian Read-
S.

like this will bear frequent reprinting.
reader to a part of England seldom visited by the tourist,
and seldom mentioned by the novelist. Following the
footKteps of the author and an artist friead, he gets
glimpses of scenery whose very roughness aud wild-
ness give it a grandeur of its own, and meets people
It takes the er," etc. This volume comprises the "Histories" or
"Chronicle plays'' of Shakspeare, carefully ixpiirga;ed
and revised, with introductory and esyilamitory notes.
It is expressly adapted for the use of schools, colleges,
and the family reading circle.These plays have been
especially selected, as being invaluable adjuncts to the

whose primitive habits and simplicity of character make study of English history, presenting, as they do, a truth-
them rem;t.rkabl6. The book is not a novel, but a truth- ful narration of events, drawn from accredited chroulcles

ful accuuDt of a genuine pedestrian tour. of the times, aud vivid pictures of the manners, habits,

VALEXTIXE VOX: the Ve/itrilof/uust. His Life and aud cuHiums of the people.
AdxxtUurt^. By Henry Cockton, author of "Percy Ef-
LIGHT. By Helen Moda. This is evidently the
fingham,'' "Sylvester Sound," etc. If one wishes to maiden effort of its author, who discovers fair couslruc-
enjoy numerous hearty laughs, him turn the pages let tive ability, and who is to be commended for the excel-

of this book. The ludicrous scenes, the merry adven- lent moral tone of her work. But though her characters

i
tares, and the rich satires are, together, enough to add are tolerably modelled, she has evideutly studied most
a hundred pouuds to one's weight, if the old adage, of their prototypes in works of fiction, and those not of
I

;
' Langh and grow fat," be true. the highest order of merit. The eonversatiou is too

! THE TIGER SLATER. A Tale of Hie Indian Desert. stilted, and its wonld-be wit often sinks to foolisbeess.

I By Gut^tave Aimard, author of "The Prairie Flower," A MANUAL OF DEVOTIONS FOR DOMESTIC AND
I
" The Trail Hunter," etc This book, we believe, be- PRIVATE USE. By George Upfold, D. D., Bishop of
gins a new series of the ifiteresting stories of western Indiana. This manual has been chiefly compiled from
' life for which Aimard is so widely noted. The scene of the "Family Prayers" of the late Henry Thornton, Esq.,
' the story is laid in Mexico, in the province of Sonora. of Clapham, England, such modiflcatiou.s being intro-

\
H.\RPERS PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE GREAT dnced as seemed desirous in an American edition.
I
REBELLION. No. 5 has been received. Price 2J cents. ELLSWORTHS PRIMARY BLACK-BOARD CHART
j
Everybody ought to purchase this. The pictures alone, OF LETTERS.Wo have upon our table a black-board
I
independent of the history, are worth the money. chart of letters belonging to Ellsworth's New Sysiem of
Penmanship. It seems well adapted for the use of the
From FaeDERiCE Letpoldt, Philadelphia: student.
SKIRMISHING. By the author of "Who Breaks
pjiy>," etc.This is the third vohimoof Leypoldt's For- From Dick & Fitzoerai-d, New York, through Peter-
eign Library, and fully sustains the reputation of this 80S & Brothers, Philadelphia:
new enterprise. It is a qalet and pleasant etory of GERVASE CASTONEL; or, T/i Six Gray Powders.
agli:ih country life. By ilrs. Ueury Wood, author of " East Lynne," " Ver-
VOL. LXVII. 31


380 godey's lady's book akd magazine.

uer's Pride," etc. This more properly styled nouvelette present year almost out of season. Yet those who hare
bears the usual characteristics of Mrs. Wood's works, delayed their annual journeying to the cooler and not
and possesses the elemehts of a first class sensational less beautiful months of early autumn will find it, if
novel. But it must have been written under disadvan- their destination be the mountains of New Hampshire,
tageous circumstances of some sort. Both characters of great use to them. While others, to whom is denied
and incidents are hurried briefly over mysteries in the ; this pleasure, will receive almost a recompen.se, and can
plot are left unraveled and the whole reads too much
;
indulge in a journey of the imagination without any of
like a, hastily sketched plan for a larger and more meri- the troubles and expense of travelling, by a careful
torious voraance. perusal of its descriptions of places and scenes.
PARLOR TRICKS "WITH CARDS. With seventy en-
gx'avings. By the author of "Book of Riddles and Five
From J. E. Tilton & Co., Boston:
Hundred Home Amusements, ''
etc.
FLOWERS FOR THE PARLOR AND GARDEN. By
BOOK OF FIVE HUNDRED CFRIOUS PUZZLES.
Edward Sprague Rand, Jr. Illustrations by John An-
By the author of **
The Sociable," "Parlor Tricks with
drew and A. C. Warren. Pp. 40S. The lovers of flow-
Cards," etc. Illustrated with a great variety of engrav-
ers, and these should comprise all who love the beautiful
ings. These two books, the former of which contains
in the works of God, will warmly thank the author of
all the tricks and deceptions with playing cards ever
inveuted, and the latter numerous entertaining para-
this charming volume. We have never seen a book so
perfectly answering the design for which this is pre-
doxes, numerical and geometrical puzzles, etc., are both
paredthat of giving a practical knowledge of the best
sources of infinite amusement in the home and social
manner of cultivating flowers. It is more than a Treatise
circles.
on the Floral Art it is an Epic and History, a Directory
:

and illustrated Manual, all combined to improve the

I
From TicKNOR & Fields, Boston, through T. B. Peter-
taste of the world in the care, culture, and love of
son St Brothees, Philadelphia:
flowers.
AUSTIN ELLIOT. By Henry Kingsley, author of
"Ravenshoe," etc. This, without being an absorbing
"We would have flowers in every house, for their
sunny light, for their cheerful teaching, for their insen-
book, possesses a certain pleasing interest. Mr. Kings-
sibly ennobliug influence," says Mr. Rand. He is right.
ley has a style of his own, dashing, easy, sometimes
We hope his beautiful book will induce thousands of
almost too careless; yet full of vigor and freshoess.
families to ornament their homes with these precious
Next to the hero Lord Charles Barty, Eleauor Hilton,
floral gifts of our heavenly Father, bestowed as tokens
old James, aud dog Robin are the most interesting cha-
of His love and care for our innocent happiness, " The
racters.
HOSPITAL TRANSPORTS. Compiled and published
rose of Sharon aud the lilies of the field" thes#are the
flowers of the Old and the New Testaments of God's Book
at the request of the Sanitary Commission. This book
of Nature. Who would not be better for studying the
gives, in the words of the actors, a brief account of the
flowers? The book is fltted to become a standard work
embarkation of the sick and wounded from the Penin-
of the beautiful in Art as well as in Nature.
sula of Virginia in the summer of 1S62. Most of the let-
THE DRUMMER BOY: a Story of the. Burnside Expe-
ters comprising the volume were written by Frederick
dition. By the author of " Father Brighthopes."
This
L. Olmsted, Esq., Secretary of the Commission, the Rev.
book, while evidently written for children, will, we
Mr. Knapp, Chief Relief Agent, and several ladies who
think, be found interesting in an uncommon degree to
were co-workers in the enterprise. When the history
older persons. Its style is simple, easy, and attractive ;
of this war shall be written at length, this little book
the author's power is marked in the graphic
especially
will give invaluable aid to its pages, and the earnest
and vivid descriptions of camp-life and battle which
men, aud the worthy imitators of Florence ^'^ightingale
seem to poiut to a personal experience. As may be seen
will receive their due meed of praise.
from the title-page, it is a story of the present war. It
seems the writer's object to narrate in a manner attrac-
From T. 0. H. P. Bcrnham, Boston, through J. B. tive to children the achievements cf the Burnside Expe-
LiPPiNCOTT & Co., Philadelphia: dition. This is skilfully effected through the medium
MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BROTHER. A ^ovel. By of a personal narrative. The book is crowded with in-
Wicklifi'e Laue. We know of no publishing house which cident and adventure, but the plot is simple and easily
displays equal discretion with this in its selections condensed. The hero, Frank Manly, whose name well
among foreign literature for American publication. Its expresses his character, enlists, with the approval of
issues are always of the highest order of literary merit, his parents, in a Massachusetts regiment as drummer-
and are never deficient in moral tone. "My Good-for- boy for the company. The regiment, after drilling for
nothing Brother" proves no exception to the rule. The some time in camp near Boston, is sent to Maryland and
hero and heroine are of course included among our fa- brigaded at Annapolis. It sails with Burnside to North
vorites in this book, and next rank Dr. Lansdale and Carolina, and plays a conspicuous part In the subse-
Miss Patty Dove. The villain and his coadjutor are quent operations. The account of the capture of Roanoke
both very human in their sins, displaying none of that Island is too graphic and minute for any hut an eye-
mysterious and erratic wickedness which romances so witness. Throughout the book shows intimate know-
often describe. The arguments which the book offers in ledge of the peculiar life, habits, and temptations of a
favor of religious faith are worthy of the closest con- soldier, and the exhibition of their influence upon the
sideration. character of Frank and his comrades is true to niiture
aud experience. The book will certainly gain among
From Edsos C. Eastman, Concord, N. H. ; the children the great popularity it deserves. It is got

THE WHITE MOUNTAIN GUIDE-BOOK. Third edi- up after the usual perfect style of Mr. Tillon'a publica-
tion. We regret that we receive this book at so late a tions. The illustrations are by Darley, which is saying
date as to make its recommendation to tourists for the their excellence is indisputable.
 ;

GODEYS ARM-CHAIR. 381

Trom Blanchard & Lea. 'Philadelphia:

OiTR Card Photooraphs. Orders for onr beautiful
THE AJIEIMCAX JOCUXAL OF THE JfEDICAL card photographs for albuniK come flowing in from all
SriKNCES. Edited by Isaac Hays, M. D July, 1863. parts of [he country. We areseuding them off by thon-
Price 9^ a year. sands. They are made, and give the
of tbe best iiuality
highofit 8at it) fact ion. See onr advertisement on cover.
The list there given comprises only a small selection
6 ob fir's ^rm-Cjjnir. from the catalogue, which now embraces between six
and seven hundred subjects. This catalogue we send
free on application.
GonsT FOR OrroBBR, ISfiS Onr principal plato !n this The taste for these exquisite miniature copies of por-
nambor is ' The Sisters* School." "Wo need say nothing traits, statuary, paiatiugs, aud line cograviug^ is steadily
of the eutrravinif that speaks for itself: bat we call at-
;
increasing. By means of the photographicart, you may
teotion to the beantlful itlu<!tration>itt>ry, commeucing'
now procure brilliant copies, perfect in all the effects
atpage 320. What a chanco for a publisher! to collect and details, of pictures and eugiaving.s whicli ouly the
Godey'g Ktories with the illustrations. Perhaps we may few could once purchase, and the price will be ouly
do it some d-^y onrselveB.
nominal. Who may not now indulge his love of art
Oor Fashion-plate! "VTell, onr Fashion-plate, what and beauty?
can wo ay about it? Is it oecesKary to gild refined
gold, or add a perfume to the violet
? We think not. "Clubs," "Clubs." Now is the time to commence
But when a person has anything' nice, does not he or tbe organization of clubs. Remember that the Lady's
*he like to have it noticed? Aud what hints will bo Book is the cheapest, because you get so much more for
thrown out to draw But we give the
attention to
it. your money, and that so much better. Compare the
Article itself for noticeand criticism, not fearing the Lady's Book with any other magazine. See the quan-
latter, becntise wo know that we are correct, and that tity and quality and remember, also, what our ex-
;

our fahtun^ cannot be doubted. Like the kiug's name,
they are a tower of strength.
Our next plnte, "The Lesson on the Flageolet,*' is a
fanmorous aod a vi;ry good one.
To CoRRF.^POSDBXTS. We ask
on second page i>f cover. We
bat unfortunately the lady incl<iwd her letter in
changes so often mention, that it is "an evidence of the
good taste of a family when the Lady's Book is seen
upon the contre-table." We hardly need say more upon
this subject. Every one of any taste wanting a *' lady's
book'* will subscribe for " Godey."
attention to our notice
have Just received a MS.,
TouNO Ladies* Seminary for Boardiko axo Dat
it, and

we had pay full letter postage, twenty-six cents.

to
Pupils. Mrs. Gertrude J. Cary, Principal, Ko. 1617
Walaut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. The nineteenth session
Tonr letter must not bo inclosed in the package, nor any
of this school will commence September 14th, 1863.
I

private commutiication. What you want to say mast

'

be in a letter accompanying it, paying three cents postage The course of study pursued embraces the fundamen-
tal and higher branches of a thorough English education.
on the ame. and referring to the MS. yoa send, men-
I

Particular attention is given to the acquisition of the

tioning the latter thus: "I send you by same mail as
French language, and a resident French Teacher fur-
this a ilS. entitled I inclose a stamp for an an-
.

swer to the letter, and also stamps fur the MS. if it has nishes every facility for making it the medium of daily
intercourse. Mrs. Cary gives personal attention to the
. to be retained.*' Any postage unpaid on letters or MSS.,
instruction of her pupils, aided by experienced lady
i pay it is three cents, has to be paid double hero, six
teachers, and the best professional talent in the city. It
cents.
is her constant endeavor to secure an equal development
I

of body, mind, and heart, and the formation of habits of

' Marion TTarlaxd. In this ntjmber we commence a neatness and industry.
new story by Marion Harland, which will be conclnded
j
Mrs. S. J. Hale, Rev. H. A. Boardman, D. D., Rev. J.
in the November namber and in our December number
Jenkins, D. D., Rev. M. A. De Wolfe Howe, D. D Louis
;
;
,

will be foand
;
A Godey, Esq., Philadelphia; Rev. J. N. Candee, D- D.,
! A CHRISTMAS STORT, BT MAEION HAKLAND. Galesbnrg, 111. Louis H. Jeokins, Jacksonville,
; 111.

Rev. George Duffleld, Jr., Adrian^ Mich.

Ma5T of onr subpcribers may have noticed an addi- Circulars sent on application.
1 lional plate meutioned by the press, which they may
I think they have not received. It arises from this fact: Pekn'a.
We nsnally print a notice intended only for the press, Two weeks ago I sent yon $20 for theLady's Book. I
I
and having some old plates remaining on hand from now send you $10 more. When your B<iok has come to
\ former editions, we have printed on the back of them. nsonce a month fora whole year, we become accustomed
to it, and fond of it, and who could help it? When our
, Kext Tuak ! It may seem a long time to look for husbands and fathers tell us, with long faces, that we
I next year, 1$Q4, but it is near at hand. We refer to it ought to deny ourselves something, as it is hard tiroes,
j
only to say, or rather indicate, what we have in pre- we never think of giving up the Lady's Book. We
;l paratioQ for 1864
something that our contemporaries do would rather fix up our old hoops, and make them do
not dream of. In f^ct, they are always only dreaming, another year, than deny ourselves the pleasure of the
not acting. Bnt we are on the alert, and we promise a Lady*s Book. L.
rich year for those who subscribe for 1S64.
A WORK has just been issued by a Pari.o firm which
PoKTBT AX ArROitTic^ addre<ised to particular persons cost 40.000(8200.000) for thirty copies ! It is the descrip-
are only .if interest to ih<)'*e to wliom they are addressed, tion, with illustrations, of the coronation of the Emperor
and had better be seat to those persons. of Rossia, and was ordered by him.


382 GODEY S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

OUR MUSICAL COLUMN. Artificial Hair, which is now in such general use,
must come from "somewhere." Have you ever known
"We have neglected our usual chronicle of musical
how it is obtained ? Light hair all comes from Germany,
movements in opera, etc., during the summer. Id fact
where it is collected by a company of Dutch /arvitrSy
there has been nothing, absolutely, to chronicle. With
who come over for orders once a year. It would appear
the return of fall aud winter, however, we hope for a
that either the fashion or the necessity of England has,
better state of things. Already the note of preparation
Within a recent period, completely altered the relative
i.s sounding, with the prospect of no less than four differ-
demands from the two countries. Forty years ago,
ent opera troupes in the field two Italian and two according to one of the first iu the trade, the light Ger-
German. Carncross & Dixey have reopened for the sea-
man hair alone was called for, aud he almost ravedj
son at their Burlesque Opera house.
about a peculiar golden tint which was supremely
Tiie Musical Monthly.
At the request of many of our
prized,and which his father used to keep very closeJ
subscribers, we are now publishing two numbers of the
only producing it to favorite customers, in the siimo!
Monthly per mouth to complete the volume during the
manner that our august sherry-lord or hock-herr sparegj
year, and to enable us to begin the new volume on
to particular friends, or now aud then, it is said, to in-^
the first of Januaiy. The eighth and ninth numbers
fluential literary characters, a few magnums of somas
are now ready, bringing the work down to September
rare and renowned vintage. This treasured article hel
inclusive, counting in numbers regularly from January
sold at eight shillings an ounce, nearly double the price 1
last. These two numbers contain a delightful variety
of silver. Now all this has passed away, and the dark
of music, including songs and pieces by Glover, Theo.
shades of brown, from Frauce, are chiefly called for.
Oesteu, Mac Farren, and other favorite composers. Each
Our informant, venturiug boldly into a subject where-
separate piece of music, it will be remembered, is orna-
with ethnologists fear to tackle, delivers as his opinion
mented with a showy and distinct title-pfii/e, engraved
that the color of the hair of English people has changed
expressly for the work. No other perit^dical has ever
within the last half century, and that the great inter-
contained this costly feature, the value of wliich will be
course since the war with southern nations ha> deepened
seen when the volume is completed aud bound. Printed
by many tints the predominating Saxon blonde of our
in the regular sheet music form, the Monthly is offered
forefathers.
to piano-players as the cheappst and most desirable
work ever published. The terms are but $3 00 per York City, California, Jvne, IS63.
annum. Single numbers 00 cents. To those who have Dear Sir : I am a constant reader of the Lady's Book ;
not yet seen the work, we will send any three numbers indeed to me it occupies the place of refined female so-
for $1 00. We would suggest numbers six, eight, and ciety in the California mountains, and I would recom-
nine as best exhibiting the character and plan of the mend it to all bachelors who wish
to keep their minds

work. All subscriptions, etc. roust he addressed to J. ia good order until they again return home. W. D.
Starr HoUoway, Publisher Musical Munthly, Box Post
Office, Philadelphia. CnF.sTsrT Stref.t Female Seminary, English and
i\Vw) S^ud Music. S. T. Gordon, New York, publishes
French Boarding aud Day School. The twenty-seventh
three beautiful new ballads by the always favorite annual session will open Wednesday, September 9th.
Stephen C. Foster, There Was a Time, 2.j cents, Larry's Particulars from circulars. Address Miss Bouney, or
Good-by, and Briug my Brother back to Me, each 30. Miss Dillaye, 1615 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia.
The Flowers are Asleep in the Dew, a charming serenade
"byFred Buckley, 25. Also a Union version uf the famous The Late Mrs?. Colfax. In the death of Mrs. Evelyn
Southern melody, Bonnie Blue Flag, 2'>. E. Colfax,widow of the Hon. Schuyler Colfax, of In-
O. Ditson & Co., Boston, publish a beautiful Cradle diana, a very large circle of admiring friends share, to
Song, words by Timothy Titcomb. Also, Koses Lie
to some extent, the bereavement of her husband and family.
along the Way, sweet song by Porter; Morn is the time Mrs. Colfax, though for years an invalid, and verging
for Me, by Edw. L. Hime The Village Bells King Mer-
; toward that "undiscovered country" whence the most
rily, charming bridal song I 'm Coming Home tu Die,
;
devoted love, the utmost medical skill could no longer
by Ossiau E. Dodge Kiss Me Once More. Motlier, ballad
;
withhold her, had spent several winters at Washington,
by the favorite author of Annie Lisle The Cumberland, ;
aud had formed acquaintances, which ripened rapidly
fine song and chorus to words by Longfellow The ; into friendships, of which none was ever withdrawn
Volunteer's Good-by, a touching melody and a spirited ;
from her. Finally her health failed so decidedly that
song and chorus. Corn is King; each 2" cents. she was removed last spring to Newport, R. I., in the
Also, a spirited and playable Cavalry Quickstep, by hope that air and bathing would at least prolong her
Glover, 3.5 cents this is a fine composition. The Dew
; life, if they could not vanquish her disease. All was iu
Drop, Polka Redowa, by Warren, 2"). Domino Galop, vain; she sank steadily and Irresistibly to the hour of
arranged from Verdi's Ua Ballo by Cootc, Eldora, ."^.5. her death, which occurred on Friday last, in the forty-
fine polka, 2.5. Masquerade Galop, and Li^'ht Heart first year of her age. Mrs. Colfax was a nnlive, and till
Mazourka, each Carol of the Mockiug-Bird Schot-
25. her marriage a resident, of Argyle, New Tork, which is
tische, a beautifuland showy piece for somewhat ad- still the home of her father's family.
vanced performers, 40. The new Nocturne by Brinley
Richards. Alexandia, composed in honor of the wife of Clfb of $40 from Washington Territory:
England's future king, 3.5 cents. Dear Sir: Inclosed you will find $40, subscription
Price of the following, 10 cents each; Ingleside Ma- for your most excellent and almost indispensable maga-
zourka, Lily-leaf Polka Schottische, Gilt Edge Polka, zine. The greater part of us, having taken it for the
Rochester Schottische, Camp Polka. though a dear and valued friend
last three years, feel as

Any music in the Column we will purchase and for- was to remain with us another year at least. We wish
ward to any address on receipt of price. Address you continued success in your most worthy enterprise.
J. Starr Uollowat. Mrs. L. B.
 ;

GODEY S ABM-CHAIB. 383

A PEW moro of the dresses worn
room revii>tiv>a of ber Majesty. (Coutiouatioa of aa
article iq the September nnmbor.)
,Vr. Sfnn'tish Standuih.TTa.\u from the shoalders of
black taift'tiis imp>>rmt, trimmml with bbtck nod white
lace; dn-i-i nf btack ihulle and black Rlacp. very ele-
gaotly tniiiin-d, covered with t(iui<|iioof Miiperb UQtiqiui
puipure t.*f.\ looped up with agratri-s of ribbon, fastened
with dmnioods. Coiffure of ootrich I'eatborH; guipuro
lace lappet and diamondx.
Jfrs. iil'tckttt
Tniin and bodice of white Tclours
eplngle, trimmed with BruHseU polot lace and crimsoo
tarlatane petticoat of white iflace, witli whitc-i Brussels
;
net, loop*>d with crtm-^on ribbon. Headdie^s of ciim&on
roftes, feathers, lace lappets; ornaments, diamonds.
.Vp*. itiirriit/ St'^tCf/rt.
Train of whit" poult de soie,
trlmmnd with ihulle and buDcbe<4 of variek'atod ruises ;
dress of white poutt de ooic, trimtifd with thuUe, and
tunic of Hruis^t'ls lace. Htaddress, plume and veil ; or-
naments, diamonds.
J/r*. (Soigtnut^f. Body and train of
lined with white silk, and tastefully trimmt-d with
blonde and ruches uf ribbon; skirt of white moire an-
tique, trimmed with ruches y{ ribbon fe-tooned, and
bouillons of thulle. Headdress, feathers, blondo tappets,
and diamonds.
Miss S'lrnh XftpUr. A fliniplobnt elegant dress, com-
posed of corsaire and tiain of rich while glace, orna-
inonted with ruches of thulle petticoat of rich white
;
f^lace, with ruches of thutte. and fttmply looped up with
bouquets of waterlilies. Headdress, feathers and lap-
pets ornaments, pearls and diamonds.
:
,Vi^ Stttc'irt (Southwick).
Train and corsage of rich
at a late Drawing- glace, trimmed with white and*bouqnetsof stephapotis j
dress of cerlae thullo over glace, trimmed with white
glaco ribbon and blonde. Headdress, feathers and veil.
MiSH Annette Long. Train of white glaco, trimmed
with thulle and ribbon dress of white thullo and tar-
;
latane over glace, trimmed with sprays of bluebells.
Headdress, feathers and veil.
Mias PtfirfJh.TTAia of white glace, trimmed with
ruches of piuk glare; dress of pink aud white thulle
over glace, trimmed with pink ruches aud white rib-
bon. Headdress, plume and veil.
Miss HViinman. Train of white glaco. trimmed with
place; dress of white thullo bouilloniico over white
glace, with chatolaiiie aud bouquets of pink oleanders.
Headdress, feathers and veil.
Miss J/'irs</ri. Train of white cristalliBO. trimmed
with thulle; dress of thullo over glace, trimmed with
bouquets of bops and ivy leaves. Headdress, feathers
and veil
Miss Farqiihfir. Train of white glace, trimmed with
thullo; dress of thulle over glace, trimmed with glace
ribbon and white Bengal ruses. Headdress, feathers
mauve place silk, and veil.
Miss Knticisle. Train of Sevres blue glace, trimmed
with while thulle and blu^h roses; dress of white thullo
over glace, trimmed with roses. Headdress, feathers
aud veil.
Miss Wfttson TfT'/^or. Train of white glace, trimmed
with thulle and blush hedge-roses dress of thulle,
;
with plaited flounce and tunics trimmed with wreaths
of hedge-roses. Headdress, plume aud veil.
MCffs li'tuvrie..
Body and tiain of rich wiiite poult de
sole, trimmed with insertion blonde over Mexican blue,
and bouquets of corn-flowers skirt of thulle trimmed
;

with thulle and blonde over glace silk slip. Headdress,

white glace, elegantly trimmed with boutfact-s of thulle, feathers, tbulie veil, aud wreath.
bouquets of white moss roses and forj;el-me-nots petti- ;

coat of whitf thulle illusion, ornamented with bouillons

of thullo over rich white glace. Court plumes, wreath, Altox, Ilunoip.
and veil; ornaments, diamuuds. To THE Editors of Godet : At page in2,' a subscriber
Miss (JertrtuU Stnoftrl (Southwick). The same. wishes for information about paste. It matters not about
Misa />/*/"'''f/>. Train of rich while glace, hand.somely
trimmed with bouilloouee of thulle and ruches of satin the paste, made of, providing that it adheres
what it is

ribbon white court petticoat of while thullo bouillon nee

; properly. persons who place scraps in a book
But all
over white silk slip bouquet of lilies-of-tUo valley and
should paste the edges only ; stiffness would be avoided,
;

jonquils. Coitfaro of the same, thulle veil, and court

plume ornaments, diamonds and pearls.
;
and the evenness of the leaves of the scrap book would

Miss Frffnnd. Train of white gros grain, elegantly be preserved. In doing this care is required not to omit
trimmed with thulle en festonset en nacuds. iutorRpersed
with sprays of pink roses. Skirt of white glace, trimmed any part of the edgo, and about the eighth of au inch ia

en carrie^^ with thulle and nocuds of white satin ribbon ;

wide enough to hold any scraps if the paste is good.
tnnique de thullo de Mallnes, looped with bouquets of B. T.
roses. Ilo.iddress. wreath, plumes, and thulle veil; or-
naments, diamonds and pearls.

Miss W^st. White glace jupe, trimmed en tablier Take tour owjt Paper. We ask every one to take
with bouillons of gray and white thulle train of gray ; the paper published in his town or county. It is a duty
glace trimmed round the od(,'e with bouillons of gray you owe the publisher. This ought always to be done
and white thnlle, and bouquets of gray violets and white
lilac. Headdress, wreath of gray violets and white lilac, before subscribing for any paper or periodical out of
feathers, and thulle lappets ornaments, pearls and dia-
; your own State.
mond ear-rings.
Miss Floryfuy. WtiH. The same. modify the old English comedies for

Misa Martjard Stewart. Train of rich white poult do It is proposed to

Roie, garuis de bouffons de thulle, intermixed with bou- the American stage so that the favorite phrase of the pas-
quets of white apple-blossom and lilies-of-tbe-valley sionate jmter farnilias to the ungracious son "Zounds,
petticoat of white glace, with thulle over dress, and
bouquets to correspond. Headdress, feathers and silver sir, I '11 cut with a shilling I" shall read " I '11
you off :

thulle lappets ornaments, diamonds and pfiirls.

;
cut yon off with a small piece of paper bearing portraits
Miss Afjivs Strickland. TTB.\a of royal blue moire of the Father of his Country, and called postage cur-
antique, liued with white gros; skirt of rich white
glace, with double tunic of Honilon point lace, deco- rency, or with two car tickets."
rated with blue glace, ruches to correspond with the
train, and looped above with three narrow goffered
flounces rnclied with blue stomacher of pearls aud
;
How to Color the Photooraph. Messrs. J. E. Tir>-
pearl necklace. Headdress, feathers, pearl tiara, aud ton & Co., Boston, have just published a little manual
point lappi'Cs, on the art of painting the photograph, which is for sale
3fiss Garwtf.
Train of rich white gros de Tonrs, ele- at the bookstores, or will be sent by them, post-paid,
gantly trimmed with thnlle and glace ribbon; corsage
drape, oruamemed with blonde and ribbon jupe of rich for 10 cents.
;

white glace, with skirts of thulle bouillonnee, and fast- The same publishers arc about publishing a capital
ened on one side with a Louis Qnatorze bow, and wreath
story for the boys,by the author of "Father Bright-
of green and bilver, and bouquet to match. Ornaments,
pearls. hopes." It is to be called "The Drummer Boy," and is
Miss (7h/Tpmnn.Trn.\n of white poult de sole, trimmed a true historical account of "The Burnside Expedition."
with thulle and wreath of white convolvulus dress of
It will be illustrated by F. O. C. Darley, and issued in
;

thulle over glace, trimmed with ruches of thulle and

liprays of convolvalus. Headdress, feathers and veil. the Messrs. Tilton's well-known attractive style.
Miss M'lc^imnhl Lofkfiart.
Train of gieea glace,
trimmed with white and bouquets of st*>plianoiis dr8S
of green thnlle over glace, trimmed with white glace
;
We call attention to the advertisement of Mrs. Gary's
ribbou and blondo. Headdress, feathers and veil. School in this number. We can recommend it to our
MUs Cordtlia Macdunald LvckJtart.T ra.in of cerise subscribers as an admirable institution.
31*


384 godey's lady's book and kagazine.

FRUIT CULTURE. Cntntci-tsa is an everbearing raspberry, producinir

fruit from midsummer until late in the autumn. It is

In do branch of frnit culture do we find a more marked
and decided improvement than in the quality and quan-
tity of small fruits with which the markets of onr prin-
now supplied, and no other branch 13 so
cipal cities are
profitable;and it would surprise some of our distant
readers were we able to give the quantities that are
annually sold in the markets
of Philadelphia.
the small fruits, we include the straiobir7'y, currant,
and grape.
goustherry, raspberry^ blackberry^
One great advantage which they possess over any
other fruit crop the quick return of the investment.
is
also quite hardy. Price %\ 50 per dozen.
Gkapk. We cultivate all the leading varieties, and
can furnish gevtuine plants of the Delaware, Concord^
Eebfcca, Union Village, Diana, Clara, Mtixatawney^
Isabella, Catawba, Ehinbnro\ Pnwell. Young vines from
2.5 to 50 cents each. Strong vines for early fruiting from
one to three dollars each.
Bulbous Roots. Orders are frequently sent out of
Among season. Now is the proper time to plant all hardy
bulbs, such as Hyacinth, the Tulip, Crocus, Siioirdrop,
Lily, Narcissus, Jonquil, Iris, Paonia, Oroioti Imperial,
etc. We have a large collection, of all the choicest vari-
eties.
Catalogues will be forwarded to all inclosing a three

In planting a pear or apple orchard, years must elapse cent stamp. Address
before there is any return, or at least sufficient to com,- HENRY A. DREER, Seedsman and Florid,

pensate for the mere labor of planting and cultivating 327 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia.

the trees. Now with the small fruits, thtf return is

Literary Associations. We now commence in time to
almost immediate; all the varieties enumerated, except
warn our subscribers against sending iheir money to any
the grape, will yield a partial crop the first year after
association purporting to furnish the Lady's Book as part
planting, and in the second or third year they will them great
of the inducement to subscribe, and promising
come into full bearing, providing due attention is paid prizes in some future drawing of a lottery. We will not
to the preparation of soiland cultivating. be responsible iu anyway. We will also add that we have
My object, in is simply to call
the present article,
no agents forwhose acts we are respunsible. We only send
attention to the advantages of small fruit culture, so
the Lady's Book when the money is sent direct to us.
much neglected throughout the country. How many
patches of ground that are now allowed to run waste, We would
like our correspondents, ladies particu-
overgrown with weeds and briers, might be made with larly, they have any good jukes, to send them to us
if
a little outlay to yield an abundant crop of delicious about servants, or any thing else. There are many, and
and health-preserving fruit, adding so much to the each one of our subscribers can contribute one. So let
comfort of all who partake of them, either in their fresh
us have them. We would like a juke department no ;

state, or when prepared as jellies, jams, cooUug drinks, old Joe Miller's. We have an original copy of that
or made into wine. Their cultivation is simple, the
venerable joker, but don't use him.
main requisite being a deep soil, well enriched with de-
composed manure. Our space will not admit of any
Change of Address. Very often we receive a notice,
detail as to management for this we must refer to such
;
"Change my address to such a place." This would be
standard authors as Downing and Barry ou " Fruit and we had only one subscriber, but as we have
very well if
Fruit Trees," and Phin ou "Grape Culture and Wiue
nearly 100,000, it would be as well if that eelf compla-
Slaking." Our purpose is to give select lists of the cent person would say where the Boob had been pre-
latest and best varieties, such as we can recommend other words, this would be the
viously sent; or, iu
from our own experience as being the most productive form :

and desirable for general cultivation. For the informa- Please send the Lady's Book, formerly addressed to
tion of those interested, we have attached the prices as
me at city, county, State of , to city,
sold here. Orders for five dollars and upwards will be
county, State of .

packed without any extra charge. Small packages can

be forwarded by mail at the risk of the purchaser but
no orders will be received for any amount under one
dollar. We can furnish all the varieties enumerated,
and recommend as the best time for forwarding and
planting the months of October and November.
; APUFFiNO wine-merchant having sent a sample of
wine to the Earl of Derby, which he averred was a spe-
cific for the gout, subsequently wrote asking for an
order. The Earl replied; presented his "compliments
to Mr. etc., and begged to say he had tasted the
,

Strawbfrrt. French's Seedling, new; the largest wine sent, but j^^^f^''"^^ ''^ gout.'"
variety ever introduced; fruit of a bright scarlet color,
fine flavor; plant of vigorous growth, and abundant
bearer. Price of plants $2 per dozen $10 per hundrnd.
;
An economical hint for the Secretary of the Navy. Let
We can also recumraend Wilfion-s Alhnny and Triomphe our sailors be taught to make their own stockings out
de- Gand; both are of large size, and great favorites in of the "yarns" they manufacture.
this market. Price of plants 60 cents per dozen $1 per ;

hundred.
Currant. Large Red Dutch ; White Grape ; Clverry^ Me.ssrs. J. E. TiLTON A Co., Boston, have for sale all
and Vtrjiffillaise. SI 50 per dozen. materials for the different styles of Painting and Draw-
Gooseberry. Houghton's Seedling. SI 50 per dozen.
Blackbkrrv. Dorchester, early Lawton, very large. ing taught in their book, Art Recreations. They will
;

$1 per dozen. send a price list, if requested, and answer necessary

Raspbrrry. Philadelphia. This we consider the great- questions, and will furnish, post paid, the book for $2 00.
est acquisition iu the raspberry Hue ever introduced;
being remarkably productive, good size and flavor, and It teaches Pencil and Crayon Drawing, Oil Painting of
as hardy as an oak tree. The product of this variety every kind, Wax-work, Leather-work, Water Color
has been estimated at two hundred bushels to the acre Painting, and hundreds of fancy kinds of drawing,
(see Gnrdener's Monthly for August). Price of plants
$2 50 per dozen $15 per hundred. painting, etc. etc.
;

Hornet. A French variety of immense size, and quite

productive. $1 50 per dozen i^ilO per hundred.
; Good Fridaythis year fell on the 3d of April, the pre-
Brinklt's Orange is also productive, and a beautiful our Lord's crucifixion. This coincidence has
day of
cise
variety. $1 per dozen $5 per hundred.
only taken place once before in the present century, and
;

Neither of the last two mentioned is hardy, and re-

quires protection duxing the winter. that was iu ISOl.
 ;

GODEY S ARM-CHAIR. S85

who He has
JUVENILE DEPARTMENT. at the magician,
just fallen back, as if
is seated opposite to her.
towaid audience,
dead ;
his hand,
grasping the cup which has contained the poison. En-
FAIRY TALE TABLEAUX. tering the room, centre of background, is Aladdiu.

These scenes are arraoged expressly for j avenile per-

formers, aoil are most of them descriptions of tableaux MI^CGLLANKOUS AMUSHME.NT3.
witnessed hy the writer; tbe pretty scenes and cos- Tfie WiUclncord.
tumes* of the little folks making very effective pictures. On*e of the company must leave the room whilst an-
The audience, after seeing all the scenes bearing upon other touches some article in her absence, which she is
one foiry tale, should be required to guess the story to guess on her return. She has been prepared a few
represented.
minutes before, unobserved by the rest, with *'the
TABLHAtTX FROM " AT.ADDIK, OR THE WO^rPERPri. LAMP." watchword," by the player, who undertakes to ask her
the questions on her entrance. This she does by point-
Scene I. represents the magician and Aladdin when
ing to an object, and saying, " Is it that?" and as long
the latter is about descoudiug Into tbe magic cave. The
as she continues tfutt form of interrogation the other re-
magician must wear a long white beard and hair; a
plies in the negative; but as soon a.s she changes it to
hiifh-pointed black cap, with a band npon which are
" Is it Ihut ^" she replies immediately, " Yes," as "/fti*"
cabalistic fignres in gilt paper; a full robe of black,
with similar figures just above the hem and on the belt. is the watchword fixed on. If the secret is not discov-
ered in the first round, nud a second one is requested,
Aladdin wears an Oriental dress of dark blue stuff, and
The moment clioson with a change of nrtich touched, the puzzlers may con-
a cap of red cloth. is that of the
trive to again, and still more, perplex their companions
Incantation. Upon the ground is a pile
of dry sticks,
Aladdin kneels with a lighted
by making " tfuif^ tho watchword in the second instance.
heaped as if for a fire;

taper, as if about to light the pile, while the magician, The Apprentice.
erect, extends his arms over the sticks. The fire should
She who begins mast say she apprenticed her son to
be centre of stago the magician behind it, facing audi-
;

some trade, and only mention the initial letters of the

ence Aladdin left, profile to andience.
;
Scene II. reprei^ents tbe mother of Aladdin cleaning
the lamp In the centre of stage is
are the antique bronze lamp and a cup of water.
mother of Aladdin, in an Oriental
right of table, profile to audience, rubbing the lamp.
Aladdin, lefl of table, facing his mother, has his hand
raised in an attitude of terrified astonishment. Behind
the table, facing andience, is the genius invoked by
rubbing the lamp. Here is a chance for the boys. The
head of the genius may be made of the lid of a bandbox,
painted to represent a ferociously ugly human face, with
a shock of black worsted hair. The body made of a
broomstick with a cross-piece for shoulders. Drape from
this a scarlet mantle. The legs are two boys, whose
body and two legs represent one leg of the genius. A
blue sack, open at tbe bottom and gathered at the neck,
makes each leg of the trowsers, and the scarlet mantle
mnst cover the boys' heads. This form stands centre of
background, facing audience. Aladdin seems fainting
with fear; but the mother does not see the spirit she
has invoked.
Scene III. represents the sale of the wonderful lamp.
In the centre of background is seated the princess, in a
rich Oriental costume, before an embroidery frame. She
first article he made or sold, and the other girls must
Whoever guesses rightly takes her
guess the word.
a table, upon which
turn. Thus: *'
I my son to a confectioner,
apprenticed
The things he sold were B. A. ;" whoever
and the first
dress, is standing
guesses "burnt almonds" may continue the game.
EarTHLT AND HEATEXLT INTEREST:
Ben Adam bad a golden coin one dny,
Which he put outat interest with a Jew
Year after year, awaiting liim, it lay,
Until the doubled coin two pieces grew,
And these two four so on. till people said,
"How rich Ben Adam is!" and bowed the servile head.
Ben Selim had a golden coin that day,
Which to a stranger asking alms he gave,
Who went rejoicing on his unknown way
Ben Selim died, too poor to own a grave
But when his soul reiiched heaven, augel.s with pride
Showed him the wealth to which his coin had multi-
plied.
Mr DEAR Mr. Godky: Knowing that you enjoy the
joke of the present system of servantism, I want to tell
you the " very last," which I have jnst heard.
A mine advertised in the Ltdger for a girl.
friend of
She was called down to see a "lady who wanted to see
the persnnvi'h.o advertised," and went into the parlor.

has suspended her work, and is looking at the group in The lady wore a plaid silk, handsome cloak, richly
foreground. The magician, with a coarse blue cloak trimmed bonnet, kid gloves, and a thickly -worked black
over his magic robe, and a red cap on bis head, is kneel- lare veil down; carried an embroidered liandkerchief,

ing right of foreground. Upon the ground before him
is a basket covered with a white cloth. One of the
magician's hands is on the handle of the basket: the
other holds np to the slave a very shiny new brass
lamp.t The princess' slave, in an Oriental dress, stands
and mother-of-pearl card-case. She made a grf-at many
inquiries about the place, which were politely an-
swered, as my friend thought she wanted to recommend
somebody. At last she said: " Well, I 'U inquire and
see if any better place offers if not, I '11 come and try it.
;

before the magician, holding toward him the old lamp, I'll leave my card, in case yon wish to send me any

her other hand extended to take the new one. word." And throwing back her veil, disclosing a light

Scene IV. represents the death of the magician. In and left. The
rnxdotto, she took out a card, courtesied,

the centre of stage is a table with fruit, cakes, and card was embossed, and written on it was " Mi-s
glasses npon it. On left side, profile to andience, is
Lavina, Lady Attendant, Laundry Department, C. H."
seated the princess, leaning forward, and looking eagerly All of which is a true fact.

* For these costumes, tll pictures in illustrated fairy

\s many of tbe ceminaries for ladies in our country,
talebooks are very good guides.
Godey's is the only magazine allowed to be taken by tbe
t These lamps are easily made of pasteboard, covered
with gilt and bronzed paper. scholars.
386 godet's lady's book and magazine.

COTTAGE IN THE ITALIAN STYLE.

Deaiffned exprc^/ily for Goffeij^s Lady^s Book by Isaac H. Hobbs, Architect, Philadelphia.

PEKf>PKCTlVi; Vlt,\V.

The above bmlding is in the Italian style of archi- Parties writing me for architectural iron-work, terra
tecture, and will he found to possess m*ny desirable cotta, and other work and material from Philadelphia,
features. The plan is compact, airy, and easy of access

SECOND STORY.

FIRST STORY. will address Isaac H. Hobbs, Architect, 702 Saneom St.,

Philadelphia.
to all its parts. For a physician, lawyer, or gentleman
doing busiuesa at his residence, it will be foucd very A YocifG Man advertises in a New Jersey paper for a
convenient. If built of pointed stone work, suitable to situation as son-in-law in a respectable family. 'Would
its pretensions, it will cost, at Philadelphia, STj.'iOO. have no objection, he says, to goinga short distance into
First Story. A porch, B vestibule, C office, D stair the country.
hall, E dining-room, F parlor, G kitchen, H scullery, I
pantry, J porch. Row the Prince of Wales popped the question to the
SfC07id Story. 'N roofs, L chambers, M bath-room, N Princess of Denmark: "Please deign to marry me?'
Btair laDding, And the fair Dane deifftiid.


GODEY S ARJI-CHAIB. 387

A i.RTTKR from MiiDich infomi? ns that Mr. R.indolph M. T. Sent articles by express 27th.
Ilt>ger(>' gate for tlio city of VnibhiDgt<>n, which was Mrs. T. C. M Sent netting needle 30th.
cast at tlio gr^at bniftfl foandry, is now bein^ i^xhibitcd Miss E. A. P. Sent braiding cotton 30th.
'
to the public io ibc Bavarian capital. As this ffate In to Miss M. M. Sout lead comb 30ih.
S.
'
hare a place in the groat Intertiatioual Exhibitiua of this Mrs. M. N. Sent braiding pattern 30tb.
year, we offfr the following brief description of it: Tho Mrs. W. 0. Sent hair pin 3Ist.
gate coiuprive* nine panels, four down each side and one Miss E. A. Sent bair ring ."ilst.
'
crowning (he top. The first panel represent^i Colambns Mrs C. C. L. Sent stamped collar SUt.
before the Conucil of Salamanca, endeavoring (but in Mrs. E. S. Sent hair ring August 4th.
rain) to prove the exi-Jtence of anothiT bomisphore; in Mrs. M. Sent pattern 7tb.
the second heisficen taking leave of hisfriouds, moasted Mrs. M. McD. Sent pattern 7th.
on the mule purcha-ied with the money giren by Qufon
Miss J. D. Sent India-rubber gloves Sth.
I>belia ; in the third he is pleading his cause before tho Miss T. v. Sent hair ring Sth.
QueoQ aud King Ferdinand; in the fourth ho is Keen fili'is M. H. Sent kid gloves Sth.

Bailing frnm I'alos; in the fifth he landnat St. Salvador, E. L. C Sent pattern Talma Sth.
and takes possession of the uewly-discoverod country in Mrs. W. E. S. Seut India-rubber gloves Sth.
the name of the king in the sixth he releases an In-
; Mrs. M. P. Sent pattern Sth.
dian maiden, and thereby gaintt tho friendship of tbe Mrs. J. M. C Sent article Sth.
Indians; in tho seventh be enters triumphantly into C. E, H. Sent slipper pattern by Adams's express Sth,
Barcelona; tbe eighth and ninth panels depict his de- E. F. Sent linen by Kinsley's express 10th.
gradation and melancholy end. Rogers has marked the M. B. Sent hair ring inth.
period of the discovery of tbe American continent by Mrs. M. J. R Sent patterns 11th.
placing round the gate statues of the chief contempora- G. E. R. Sent hair ring llth.
ries of Columbus TW.,
King Ferdinand and Qaeen Isa- C., Canada. See page 195, August nnmber. Cannot
bella, with Cortes, Pizarro, Bulboa, etc. Between the answer more definitely, unless you explain more fully.
panels are heads of writers on Colnmbns, among whom E, L A dark spot appears on the skin where each
Robertson, Washington Irving, aud Prescott are con- bair has been removed. The receipt you mention does
spicuous. not prevent the hair from retnrning.
We have been frequently asked for Depilatories to re-

What opr Fashion Editor can Scpplt.
Fashion Editor, care L. A. Godey, Philadelphia. Mrs.
Hale is not tho fashion editress.
Hair-work, patterns for all kinds of garments, and for
women and children, jewelry, caps, bonnets, cloaks,
mantillas, talmas, mantles, headdre.tses, shawls, bead-
Address move hair.The following answers we copy from an
English work, simply adding that we have always re-
fused to furnish any receipts for removing superfinons
hair:
*'
A sister of my own, annoyed at the roughness of her
arms, was tempted to use a preparvttiou much advertised,
apparently efficaciously but, after a lapse of several
;

work, materials for wax aud paper flowers, embroidery, months, the down reappeared thicker aud more un-
collars, cape?, worsteds, Shetland wool, iufanls' ward- sightly than ever,"
robes or patterns for the same, stamped collars, orn6 "We know of no simplp. remedy for destroying super-
flaous hair. It may be hurtled ojftlie ana by tlteji/tum of
balls, canvas for working, etc. etc. a ctndle.'^
**
It not nnfreqnently happens that depilatories aro
pernicious or dangerous, but if the opinion of one who
A gciESTipic lady, when a question turned on dyna- has bad do practical acquaintance with any prepara-
tion of the kind is worthy of attention, from m^iuy re-
mic?, asked the late George Stephenson, the celebrated
marks that have reached me, I am inclined to believe
engineer, '* What do you consider the most powerful the least harm likely to accrue to the user is the increase
force in Xitarer" Said he:
*' It is the eye of a woman
of the defect it essays to remedy."
for the maa that loves her; for if a woman looks with Jfow, after the above, we hope no one will ask us for
affectim on a yonng man, should he go to tbe uttermost a depilatory, for most certainly we will not furnish it.

ends of tho earth, the recollectim of that look will bring Bertha. We invite commnnications from our readers
bim back. There is no other force in >*ature could do on all and every of the topics likely to interest, ^"o
that." charge is made for inserting receipts, as our object is to
be useful, aud to spread such knowledge as may be of
interest aud value to ladies.
PHILADELPHIA ACEXCT. " Lilla" is not satisfied with the color of her hair, " it
Xii order attended to unless the cash accompanies it. is getting so dark ;*' and "Rosa D." wants to make her
All person.* requiring answers by mail must send a bair "wavy." '* Hi^Iena" wishes to enamel her face,
post-office stamp ; and for all articles that are to be sent and "Freckles" to remove what she has adopted as her
by mail, stamps must be sent to pay return postage. signature. Xobody is satisfied. One isso stout that she
Be particular, when writing, to mention the town, "feels qtiito awkward ;" another, who would, perhaps,
county, and State yon reside in. Nothing can be made have no objection to exchange with Rof-e, is "so sallow"
out of post-marks. that she is " unlike any one else." Now, as Mrs Brown
Mrs. S W. S. Sent
scissors by express, Jnlyl4th. says at the play, "we don't hold" with hair-dyes or
Mrs. M. J. Sent materials for dress 17th.
I.

cosmetics the liair and skin are irreparably injured by
Mr^. E. F. de L.Sent pattern 17th.
their use and we have no sympathy with those who
Mrs. Capt. W. C
Sent box curls by express 17th. attach over-much importance to their personal appear-
Dr. S. C. G. Sent infant's wardrobe by express 17th. ance. It is qnito right that every woman should look
Mrs. L. McV. Sent box containing bonnet by express as well as she can but dyelnc tbe hair, daubing the
;

I7th. face, or resorting to any other artifice, defeats its own

D. do B. Sent box infant's wardrobe by express 17th.
end it spoils the real beauty of a handsome woman,
Miss F. G. Seot box trimmings by express 2l8t. and makes an ogly woman ridiculous.


godet's lady's booe and magazine.

It is by no means easy, but may be effected at two or

three operations by the sweeping motion of a wet slip of
Cljtmistrg for iljc ||oung. wood, thus
Wet wood and cold
metals can be brought
LESSON XXUL (Concluded.)
into contact with fused
C85. 5f7ie as ii^ed in glnss-wnrJdng.VoT
blniopipe^ pasty glass with impu-
this purpose, the heet flame is that furnished by an oil nity, but not in con-
or tallow lamp ; but the spirit-larap is more convenient, tact with hot solidified
and answers ttie greater number of useful purposes, gla^ss.
6S6. The opfrator will now require free play of both GS9. The tube not finished is a test-tnbe perhaps yoa ;

his hands hence the blowpipe must no longer he held

; would like to make its end flat. This is most easy.
in, a horizontal but a Bring it to the pasty state, and press it quickly on a
vertical plane, its bend metal plane say the blade of a knife. Perhaps you
resting on the ridge of a would like to form an inverted end, such as we see in
Epirit-lamp collar, thus. the so-called pint and quart bottles. This is most easy.
And now will be evi- Bring the end to a pasty condition, and apply suction
dent the use of winding by the lips. Lastly, a bulb may be required for which ;

cord around the blow- purpose fuse not only the end, but also a portion of tho
pipe at one end. Were side then remove the tube, and blow rapidly yet gradu-
;

the cord not there the ally, otherwise the hulb will expand to an uudesirable
blowpipe would slip. size, or it will be scarcely thicker than a soap-bubble.
Some persons use a kind 690. The next point in glass-working consists in
of fork in order to support the blowpipe and prevent its learning how to bend a tube. Tyros at the operation
Klippiug. Such a contrivance is a positive disadvantage, generally eflect a bend of this
preventing those little adjustments of the instrument kind, a result which depends
made intuitively, and which are so desirable. It is not on two on three circumstances,
desired that the blowpipe should he Jta:ed, but lightly, such as the too limited extent
delicately balanced. of tube softened, and the two
5S7. Gulden riden in gla^s-hlowing. Never work on a rapid application of bending
dirty tube never abruptly thrust a tube into, nor remove
;
force, and, m^re than all, on
a tube from the blowpipe flame never hold a tube mo-
;
the omission of pressuve, applied before the bending
tionless in the flame, hut rotate it constantly never ;
operation. This pressure consists in forcing gently each
attempt to blow a bulb whilst the tube is in the flame ; extremity of the tube inwards on the fused middle, by
and never, on any consideration, throw down a tube which means the fused portion becomes thickened.
because you chance to have touched it in a hot part; This pressure should not only be applied before the
rather burn your fingers than break your apparatus; a bending is commenced, but even during that process ;

slight scorching of the finger-ends is rather an advantage and remember that a good bend can seldom be eff'ected at
than otherwise, producing a certain thickening of skin, one heating. The operation must be frequently repeated.
which enables an operator to touch, hot things with
comparative impunity.
Take a piece of English flint-glass, about the
683.
lowing diameter and
fol-
i\u\inu.
thickness apply the
;

outside part of a spir-

NOTICE TO LABT SUBSCRIBERS.
it-lamp blowpipe
Havikq had frequent applications for the purchase of
flame in the middle,
balancing the tube Jewelry, millinery, etc., hy ladies living at a distance, the

between the two bends, and continually rotating. Then Editress of the Fashion Department will hereafter execute

pull, still under rotation, and generate a small tube be-

commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of
tween the two large pieces; to whatever length ex- a small percentage for the time and research required.
tended it would always be a tube. Apply a small jet at Spring and autumn bonnets, materials for dresses, jewelrj,

the point , and revolve the two pieces la opposite

envelops, hair-work, worsteds, children's wardrobes, man-
tillas, and mantelets, will he chosen with a view to econo-
.*
my, as well as taste; and boxes or packages forwarded
by express to any part of the country. For the last,
directions, by which di.'^tlnct directions must he given.

means the capillary Orders, accompanifid hy checks for the proposed expen*
tube will be closed. diture, to be addressed to tht> care of L. A. Godmi, Esq.
_^___^^^__^_^ No order nnll he attended tn unless the m.oney is first
Continue applying a receixwd. Neither the Editor nor Puhlikher tvill be accOunU
very fine jet at the point a, until the glass point recedes ahlefor loHses that raa.y occur in remitting.
to a in diagram the second. To get rid of the fresh bead The Publisher Lady's Book has no interest In
of the
a is not easy for a beginner. Not a bad plan consists in this department, and knows nothing of the tran.sactiong ;
dextrously snapping it ofl"bT ^. %, and whether the person pending the order is or is not a
moans of a pair of scissors. \ ^**
sub.scriber to the Lady's Book, the Fashion editor does
The operation just concluded not know.
of closing a tube one of the most common in glass-
is Instructions to he as minute as is possible, accompanied
working. If you can succeed in expanding the open, by a note of the height, complexion, and general style of
end and forming a rim h, you are a clever glass-worker. the person, on which much depends in choice. Dresa
 ;

FASHIONS. 389

froodH frutu EvuaH & Co.'s ; moarDiD^ goodit from Bohsod FRENCH CORSAGE.
A Son ; cloukt, maotltlas, or talniatf, frum Brodio'tt, 51
{Set engravings, page 303.)
Canal Street, New York ; boDoeUs from tho most celebrated
stablishments; Jewelry from Wriggoua it Warden, or Tms corsagemade with a moderate point in front
is

CaMnellV, Philadelphia. and deep Jockey at the back. Tho material is black silk
When goods are ordered, the faHhlons that prevail here trimtiied with guipure lace. It is wuru over a fine

(Tovero the (turchase; therefore, no articles will be taken tacked French muslin waist, with short ])uffed sleeves.

back. Whon tho goods are sent, the traasaction mnst be

considered final. CHITCHAT UPON NEW YORK AND PHILADEL-
PHIA FASHIONS FOR OCTOBER.
DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION-PLATE FOR With this month the displny of fall novelties com-
OCTOBER. mences, and the fashiouuble world is again plunged in
Ffy. 1. DrepK of a light golden cnlr-colored silk. The tlie ever-important subject of dress. Our stores are
with a box-plaited raffle, and above It is a
f>kirt is ediePti opening a multitude of charmiug tissue.-^, aud our milli-
row of black guipore lace. Rows of guipure lueertion ners aud dressmakers are again mckiug Uietr brains to
are arrangp^ en tafdier np the front of the skirt, and in devise pretty novelties for the fall.

hands and pointed devices round the skirt. Thococsage
la made with points In front, and a square jockey at the
hack. The sleeves are cut with an elbow and both
sleeves and corsage richly trimmed with guipure inser-
Bonnets have not yot undergone any change iu shape.
The Marie Stuart still prevails; aud most of the trim-
; mings are arranged to droop over the faco. Few dress
bonnets have appeared most of the bouuets yet seen
;

tion. A narrow fluted ruff is round the neck of the are straws, tastefully trimmed with feathers and velvet.
dress, fa>itened in front by a clerical bow. The hair is Black and maize, black ^nd coral, aud black and a
arranged over a roller in frout, and ornamented with a rich blue, aro the The new
favorite combiaatious.
scarlet velvet bow. color, called Ble de Tw/uie, a rich shade of yellow,
Fig. 2. Dinner-dress of Irish poplin. The skirt is contrasts charmingly with black. Branches of pine,
trimmed with u:irrow rnffles of pinked silk, the exact with small coues, aro now substituted for the grasses
shade of the dress. These ruffles are about three-quar- and grains worn duriug the summer. A novelty is the
ters of a yard long, and arranged slanting on the skirt Bohemian straw, which is dyed of a bright yellow, aud
each ruffle is headed by a fancy trimming formed of when trimmed with ribbon to match, mingled with
narrow black velvet, and finished off at the tup by a black lace and buttercups, is exceedingly stylish.
bow of narrow velvet. The corsage is low, and made The dressmakers are in despair for a new style of
with a b'rtha, trimmed to match theskirt. The guimpe bodice; but, alas! it has not yet appeared. AU they
and sleeves are of embroidered French maslin, finished can do is to change the style, by the different arrange-
with mn^lin ruffs. The hair is rolled in front, and ar- ment of trimming. The Postilion bodico with its swal-
ranged in a waterfall at the back, tied with a blue rib- low tail basque, with two points or square ends in
bon. A broad plait encircles the hood and fastens be- front, the vest style, the corsage with three points at tho
neath the waterfall. back, and four in front, aro all being made, though far
Fig.3. Child's dregs of white piqtii, embroidered from novel.
la white and red, and trimmed with a box-plaited trim- Double skirts and tunics will be worn. This last is
xuing of scarlet worsted braid. The dres.s is low, and somewhat uuvel. The upper skirt and body are in one,
with short sleeves. The guimpe is of fine French muslin. the same as an Empress dress. Tho skirt is quite lung
Fig. 4.
Dress of black alpaca, trimmed with crimson at the back, and slopes very suddenly to the frout.
velvet cut in leaves, and arranged as a bordering above This style of dress is generally trimmed with chenille
the hem of the skirt and round the jacket. The sleeves fringe, which is one of the richest trimmings of the sea-
are cut with an elbow, and trimmed with velvet and son. Silk fringes of all kinds and widths will be very
drop buttons to match the waist. The hair is parted on much worn. Feather fringe is very beautiful, also the
one side, and arranged in a braid at the back.
Thibet fringe a most elegant soft kind of fur, very light
Fig. 5.
Dinner dress of lavender silk, with a narrow and graceful. It is about three inches long, audiuouuled
Anting on the edge of the skirt. The overskirt is of a on a hooding of white silk braid.
rich black .ilk, cut in deep points, trimmed with thread Dresses are made very high in the throat, and in order
lace, aud headed by a narrow bugle trimming. The to make the collar set well a small straight band is
corsage is made in one piece, although it has the appear- sewed round the nock of the dress.
ance of a black jacket over a lavender silk waist. It is Skirts are mostly cut en traine ; that is, the back
trimmed with black lace, which forms a jockey at the breadths are cut very long, and sloped at the bottom to
back. The hair is dressed in rolls and puffs, and orna- suit the side aud front breadths. This gives tho skirt a
mented with flowers. graceful sweep, and is decidedly prettier than lengthen-
Fig. 6. Visiting dress of a rich green silk. Theskirt ing from the upper part of the skirt.
Is cut a half yard short, deeply pointed, and trimmed We caunot help remarking, en pa.'i.snnt, on the shape
viih narrow velvet. Under this skirt is fastened a deep of crinoline. It is worn now perfectly flat on the hips,
flounce, set on with a little fulness, and very elegantly and all the fulness thrown at tho back. For outdoor
1
brai<)ed with black velvet. The corsage, sleeves, and wear, the skirl should have a small train, aud fur eve-
r
flash are braided to match. niug a large train but always without any fulness on
;

[
Fig.7. Dress of Marguerite colored poplin, trimmed
\rith a thick silk cord of the same shade as the dress.
The corsage is novel, and made to represent a jacket.
It is trimmed with narrow cord aud buttons. The hair
I"* arranged over a rollt^r iu front, and falls in a chignoa
or waterfall at the back.
the hips.
Silks have come out this season of particularly rich
quality. Gros grains are the favorites, aud black con-
tinues more in vogue than ever. Black silks are being
made np with contrasting colors, such a the different
shades of Russia leather, hazel, gray, maize, blue, and
390 godey's lady's book and magazine.

white. This style of dress is, in our opinion, the rich- during an evening. We think, therefore, we prefer the
est and most (listing iUK\a,dy can wear. Plaids of all imitations of nature, as they can scarcely be detected
6izes, and of the richest colors, with riwiris and clumdeSy from the originals, and are decidedly more economical.
are among the new goods. We learn from our Paris correspondent that a noted
The rage for fluted trimming' still continues ; and to French artificial florist has introduced small oranges
those who object to it on account of its losing its folds into bridal wreaths, to overcome the heavy eflect of the
from dampness, we would 6U<,'gest that Mme. Demorest orange blossoms and buds only green, it is said, not
;

has obviated this difficulty by an ingenious little cuntri- being admissible in bridal wreaths. We have as yet
vance. We believe it is by the insertion of a very deli- seen nothing of the kind therefore, cannot recommend
;

which keeps the trimming perfectly in shape.

cate wire, them. Indeed we do not like the Idea at all. We think
An extremely thick cord, matching the dress in color, is nothing can be prettier than orange blossoms with their
frequently placed above the braid sometimes perfectly
;
rich glossy green leaves mingled with spray.-s of the
straight round the and sometimes twisted or
skirt, pure and graceful lily of the valley. Green must neces-
arranged in a fanciful design on each breadth. sarily be introduced into a bridal wreath to relieve the
From the tasteful hands of Mme. Demorest, we have white; otherwifce it is exceedingly tame. Daisies are
already seen some veiy good and efl'ective styles which being substituted in Paris for the lilies but we consider ;

possess both the charm of novelty and elegauce. The
first was a promenadiug costume. The material Alex-
andra cloth of the darkest shade of mude color, made in
a suit, consisting of a dress and casaqae. The casaqiie, or
basquine, was shaped to the figure, but not closely, and
rounded off from the front, deepening behind until it
reached two-thirds the lengbh of the skirt. The trim-
ming was leather-colored velvet, put on in pointed
straps, finished on each edge with a quilling of mode-
colored silk. The suit was trimmed to match, and oven
the bonnet, bouts, and gloves intended to wear with it
were of the same colors, which contrasted charmingly,
and formed a very quiet but recherche promenade dress.
pendant flowers the more graceful. The back hair is
genarally arranged in a waterfall, frequently tied with
a bright ribbon or velvet. Bunches of braids are also
caught up in the same style.
For married ladies the Marie Stuart cap is being re-
vived, and is generally a becoming coiffure.
A novelty in the way of a sash has just been intro-
duced for a muslin dress. A belt is worn round the
waist, and tlien a long scarf of muslin is knotted and
fastened at the back. The sash is scalloped all round,
and the ends are slashed with three rows of slits,
each about one inch and a half long, and one finger
apart. Through these slits velvet or ribbon is run ;

Theae uniform costumes, of which we spoke in our
last Chat, will be much adopted, during the fail and
winter. It is a pretty stylo, but of which one tires
60OU, unless a person has a variety of suits, and then it
and the ends of the ribbon, instead of being fastened
under the scarf at the edge, are cut in fish-tails, and
stand out. The first row uf slits, or slashes, slant from
right to left the second row from left to right, and the
;

ii exceedingly expensive. In some cases square shawls
of the same material as the dress, and trimme<l to match,
are substituted for the Talma, or casaqne but they do
not seem to be greatly in demand, and never for young
ladies.
Another dress was a very rich black gros grains silk,
ornamented iu quite a novel manner. The decorations
consisted of diamond-shaped, blocks of black velvet em-
third and last row the same as the first. This is really
very pretty and effective.
;
The other style of sash is either fastened on the left
shoulder and tied midway down the skirt under the
right arm, or else encircles the waist, and is tied mid-
way down the skirt at the back.
Wraps are now a matter of no small perplexity. There
exists such a variety of styles, that it is difficult to know

broidered in the centre in a light leafy design, with silk what to select.The ever-fashionable India shawl, one
and jet, surrounded with guipure lace. These were of the most graceful and convenient wraps, now appears
united to form a border round the bottom of the skirt, on all the promenades. In no one article is there such

and also ornamented the waUt and sleeves. a variety of quality and style. They are to be had at

A robe of very light gray taffetas, superb in qnality, Stewart's of all prices, from the convenient little wrap
was ornamented with a narrow festooned volant, which of $50 to the marvel at $2000.
deepened in the centre of each festoon, and was fastened Blue cloth mantles are very much worn by misses
at each point by a flat bow of ribbon without ends. The and children. They are generally trimmed with black
volant was edged with narrow guipure. The bodies or white.
were in all cases plain and very high the sleeves nearly;
We will note a few of the numerous styles for black
tight, and sha]>ed to the arm. silk mantles. There is the loose paletdt, trimmed all
A pretty design among the fall sleeve patterns was a round with a double ruching the outer one black, and
;

puff, or a frill, set into the back of the sleeve, reaching the inner one scarlet or blue silk. These are principally
several iuclies above, and terminating several inches worn by young girls. Then there are casaques, which
below the elbow. reach to the knee in and much longer iu propor-
front,

There is nothing new in the form of headdresses. tion at the back. They should be cut to follow and de-
The two most popular styles are the coronet and the fine the outlines of the figure, without fitting it too
spray of flowers at the aide of the bead. All flowers closely. They are trimmed but one
in a variety of ways ;

are now mounted on gutta percha, which gives the ap- of the prettiest is to have small loops of black and white
pears nee of natural stems, and makes them more pliable velvet, about one inch wide arranged round the neck,
than the old-fashioned wire mountings. Bows of rib- down the outside of the sleeve, and all round the skirt.
bon, velvet, and lace are frequently substituted for the Talmas and circles are also much worn, trimmed with
spray of flowers. This style, we may say, is universal, laces, gimps, feather trimming, chenille fiinge, ruches
and adopted both by young and married ladies. of cuir-colorcd silk, and stamped leather trimming.
Many of our belles are weaving natural flowers Cloth wraps are also made up in a variety of new
among their tresses. It is a Spanish fashion, and very styles. Among the most effective are the Spani-^h, which
beautiful. Still natural blossoms are so frail that, nnless are caught up iu graceful folds, and fastened on the
constantly renewed, but few will retain their freshness shoulder. Fashio:^.
 ///

//

A^ ^ ;\

^
[?'[R-; D EM PSM P EN AfKaEKiEIT.
11

.(())M'3,
V
 f

- >

; s "s

e - K

i? 1-3

-i ^
B - a
; tp

r?

VOL. LXVII. 32 399

 INSERTION FOE SKIRTS.

THE POMPEIAN CLOAK.

{Front xneic.)

black velvet and a heavy crochet ornament

ThU comfortable wrap is made of black cloth, and tvimmpd with bias
appearance of a ack.
at the back. The cape forms the sleeves, leaving the frout plain, and giving it the
400
 MBROIDKY.

THE POMPEIAN CLOAK.

{Buck liew.)

401
402
32* 403
404
405
 THE DARRO.
[From the eslablishment of G. Brodie, 51 Canal Street, New York. Druwn by L. T. Vuiui, from actual
articles of costume.]

The brilliant colors in whicb pardessas are now so popular afford the opportunity to have the ornaments with
which they are decurated s-trikioirly conspicuous. The circular illustrates one whirh can be made in any color
desired crimsiin, blue, wliite. black, etc. etc.. at the choice of the wearer. For caiTJat-e, or f*snve occasions,
especially the latter, when in w!iitp cloths, with the ^fU'ur d^ Iw in li^ht blue velvet apflu/n-\ witli silver braid, or
in royal pnrple and gold embroidery, tlip eHV>ct is peculiarly eleirant. For street wear, the .same pattern is made
in black or quiet colored cloths, with black velvet ajiplu/n', and braided, for thone who do not desire such gay
colors in garments.
406
 EMBROIDEEY.

-'J^ M^A^ M^''

A petticoat of white satin, bordered with gold aud scarlet embroidery. The dre*
is of maroon relvet, rich'.y
Imnmed with pold. and lined with gold-colored talin. The light sleeves are of white satiu. trimmed with irold. The
coiffure is formed of emeralds,
4','7
 BRAIDING PATTEB3T.

POLISH DEESS AND LOITIS XIV. COSTUME.

(

The Polish dress consists ofau underskirt of green bordered witli scarlet. Thecorsape and short sleeve-* are of pref^n,
and the long sleeves scarlet. Tlie upper skirt and point are of pnrple, ed^ed with swans'-down. Tht^sash of scarlet!
i.s

with black ends. Boots red, and burdered with swan's-down. Cap scarlet, boidered witli swan's-down, ami a bhick
feather at the side.
The Louis XlVth costume consists of a petticoat of white satin, with a lace flounce on the edtre of the .skirl. The
overdress is a very rich pink .'satin, trimmed with roses and quillings of silk. The hair is powdei'ed, and dressed with a
Bmall wreath oa the left side of tlie head.
408
 BEAIDING PATTEHN.

A Roman Oirh Tbe lower skirt 13 of salmon-colorM silk, with two bands of black velvet edirine it, Tbe corsasre
purple lined with rnanve. The skirt beine turned back in front shows the lieht lin-n?. The aprmi
ftod Tipper skirt is of
and fichu are of worked ninslin. The cttifftire is of white mnslin, ornameDted with loops of purple and salmon ribbon.
A Gr^fk !7iW. The lower skirt is of scarlet material, edsed with pold. The upper skirt of a pale amher color, con-
fined at the waist by a ^told belt. The small T*'Ivet cordage is of ereen or bla^k velvet, bordered with gold it is worn
;

over a full white mnslin waist, with long square flowing sleeves. The scarf is of scarlet ca-^hmere. The coiffare is
composed of gold chaiDs and beads.
409
 INITIAL LETTERS FOE MAEKING.

GLASS BEAD MAT.

Tliia Mat must be begun frnm the centre A at the bottom, and worked upwards, by placing 1 dark
red bead in the middle of the thread ; then take 2 light green, one on each needle ; then pass both
needles through 1 light green, then take 2 black, 1 black, 2 black, 1 light green, 2 dark red, 1 light
yellow, 2 light yellow, 1 dark yellow, 2 dark yellow, 1 dark yellow, 2 light yellow. 1 dark yellow, 2
dark yellow, 1 dark yellow, 2 dark yellow, 1 black, 2 black, 1 black, 2 white, 1 light red, 2 dark red,
1 dark red, to the centre then work forward as before directed, .and diminish according to pattern.
;

41(1
 DEESS TEIMMniG..
CO^SISTiaO OF LACB IHSEBTIOH AHD HABBOW RIBBOIT.

This consists of lace insertion and narrow ribbon or ribbon vplvet, folded at equal distances,
so as to form the pattern very clearly represented in our illustration. A white muslin skirt,
trimmed round the bottom with black lace insertion, and mixed witli a bright colored ribbon,
would be extremely stylish. To make the trimming easy to do, the design might be traced on a
broad piece of ribbon, and the materials run on. This band could then be easily put on the skirt,
and the skirt would not be so much tumbled as if the trimming were made on the dress in the
first instance.
VOL. Lxvii. 33 411
 ; I I : I

mi LOST FOiEVEi,
COMPOSED AND ARRANGED FOR THE PIAKO FOR OODETS LADT3 BOOK,

By JAMES M. STEWART.

Aridaiife.

VOICE.

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altthe ties are broken,

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 ALPHABET OF FANCY LETTEES.
rOE MAKKIKG A LADY'S WAKDKOBE, ETC.

^H^

414
 GODEY'S
f abp ^ooli anb Maga^int
PHILADELPHIA, XOTEMBER, 1863.

LEAH MOORE'S TRIAL.

JT UAKION BARLAirD.
{Concludril from pape 319.)

[Botered, aceordine to act of ConcrcsB. in the year ISfiX hv Locis A. Godet, In the clerk's office of the District
Court of the United Stales, in aud for the Eastern District of Peun&ylvania.]

CHAPTER III. not scruple to make me feel this, when she

I nAVE been thus minute in my description could accomplish the lady-like feat without
of tlie scenes immediately succeeding Charles attracting our cavalier's attention. One in-

Moore's return to hishomo, both because they stance of her disposition to claim him entirely

were my initial lesson in the knowledge of the for herself recurs to me with particular force.

true state of affairs in the household, and be- A heavy fall of snow was followed by moonlight
cause they will best convey to the reader a nights of rare beauty, and a tempeiatnre so

conception of the many links no single one of milil thatone marvelled at the solidity of the
which was worthy of serious notice, that yet, white carpet spread thickly over the earth.
taken altogether, formed a chain wliose griev- " Ladies, what say yon to a sleigh-ride tliis
ous weiglit was bowing my poor friend's heart evening ?" questioned Mr. Moore at dinner, the
and soul to the dust. It would be derogatory day after the storm. "Don't all speak at
to my self-respect were I to trouble myself to once I"
assert that I never, by look or word, intimated Leah smiled at the silence that ensupd.
to Leah aught concerning the picturesque tab- " Nobody seems to be in haste to accept yonr
leau I had broken upon that nieht. I fancied tempting invitation," she remarked. "Why
that Mr. Moore appreciated my discretion and not 'all at once V "
was grateful for the same, for his treatment of " Because my cutter holds but three, with
myself was, in every respect, une.\ceptionabIe. moderately close storing, and I wish to avoid
He took great pains to render my stay in the the predicament of being called upon to decide
town and house agreeable, devising excursions between claimants for the privileges of being
and entertainments, which he supposed would one of the passengers."
suit my taste, and accompanyini; me in these "I could not go if there were room for a
with alacrity and apparent pleasure. I would dozen without packing," she returned. "So
have declined going out upon many such occa- the matter is settled without perplexity to
sions, but Leah opposed this inclination so yourself or to us. Maria and Janetta will com-
positively, and so often exerted herself to an pose your load."
imprudent extent to make one of the party, Janetta ate on in sober taciturnity, although
when she suspected that Idesigned to remain I had heard her wishing for a sleigh-ride that
at home with her, th.^t I generally yielded to very morning.
her importunities and played Mademoiselle De " I must be excused, if yon please," said I.
Trop with what grace I could. " I had the toothache last night, and dare not
For de trnp I was, whenever there were but venture out in the evening."
three in the company, and Miss Dalrymple did " But the air is so pure and dry, almost as
415
 ; !

416 godet's lady's book anb magazine.

bland as summer, and you can wrap up your silence. Janetta begged to be excused before
head and face I cannot consent to
I your the rest of ns were half through, and sped off
missing such a treat I" insisted Leah. to her room, carolling fragments of the sleigh-
Her husband civilly seconded her arguments bell waltz as she ran.
but honestly believing that the exposure would "How that girl enjoys life I" said Mr. Moore.
be injudicious, I remained firm in my decli- " It is a genuine
pleasure to afford her a
nation. diversion like that of this evening she par- ;

"So, Nettie," said Mr. Moore, with affected takes of it with such zest, such child-like
chagrin, "you are the only one who does not abandon I"
excuse herself from the pleasure or displeasure The observation was directed to me, and I
of accompanying me ! I warn you that I shall rejoined, very safely and truly: "She does
expect you to make up for both losses and indeed seem to be in fine spirits to-night."
mortification." Leah and I stood in the hall, wrapped in furs
Janetta Dalrymple danced about the house and hoods, before Janetta made her appearance.
that afternoon like a mad creature in an irre- She was unpunctual to a proverb.
pressible flutter of exultation, oddly at vari- "Come, little one! come, birdie!" called
ance with her manner of listening to the propo- Mr. Moore, at the stair-head. He had an ex-
sition, as first made, and its discussion. haustless store of pet names for her. "We
" Will night never come ?" she cried, meeting are waiting !"
Mr. Moore in the upper hall about five o'clock. " I am coming yes, I 'm coming
"It is almost dark now!" he returned, "Willi my /urn about my feet I"
laughing. " Do you then anticipate so much she sang from the floor above.
delight in this frolic this moonlight flitting?" This trick of parodying her favorite songs
" Dehght ! could I fail to have it ?" was a great habit with her. She came down
Leah's appearance interrupted her. upon the run, and was close upon us before
"Charles," she said, coming to the sitting- she saw either of the unlooked-for additions to
room door, " I was just about to dispatch a the party. The fall of her countenance was
note to you. Can I speak with you for a mo- actually ludicrous.
ment ?" "Why, how is this ? I had not understood I"
" I came up home some papers," he be-for she stammered, thrown completely off her guard
gan, just as the door shut them in. by the suddenness of the disagreeable discovery.
The result of the conference was soon made Mr. Moore explained the causes of the change
known to me by Leah, who sought me in my in his plans, after a style that savored too
chamber for that purpose. much, of the apologetic to suit me. She made
" I am here to entreat you to reverse your no reply, except by her looks, which betokened
purpose of staying at home to-night. I have unqualified dissatisfaction. She even hung
changed my mind so there 's a worthy prece-
; back, as half inclined to decline going at all,

dent for you. Henry Ellis my cousin called when he would have handed her in after us.

awhile ago to offer ns his double sleigh in ex- Her cousin spoke her in a low tone of dis-
to
change for our lighter cutter. His wife is not pleased expostulation, of which I caught but

at home, and he wishes to drive a fast trotter two words "unreasonable" and "jealous."
instead of a pair of sober family studs. He Sulkily submitting to the impetus of his hand,
wants Charles to put in one of his horses with she was placed upon the front seat. This was
oars, and take us all. I am going, and so are always her chosen position it mattered not ;

you IWe have fur robes enough to smother that I often occupied the back alone. It had

you, a footstove, and foot-blankets, and I have occurred to mo that Leah might, once in a
provided a phial of toothache medicine, in case while, prefer to ride by the side of her husband,
of casualties. There is no use in saying a but she never expressed such a preference in
word!" my hearing. I could see, in the clear moon-
I submitted, not reluctantly, for the prospect light, that our gallant charioteer made re-

of the drive was tempting, and already the peated engage his companion in con-
efforts to

merry din of the passing sleigh-bells made the versation, bending to her ear with whispered
blood bound more quickly in my veins. We soothings or entreaties, and watching her coun-
took a hurried cup of tea to prepare us for the tenance with anxious attention. She was
excursion, and by a queer chance the altera- obstinate in her dejection, keeping her face
tion in the programme was not mentioned at averted, and replying to him by monosyllables,
the table, the meal being discussed in unusual or gestures. At last he showed signs of the
 ; ;

LEAH MOOBE'S TRIAL. 417

spirit he should have exhibited at the oatset his wife more times than I like to remember.
ignored lier presence, and devoted himself to I never saw her angry with him except this
amusing; I>eah aud myself. once yet her temper was naturally quick.
;

We rode for more than two hours, and the She did not comment upon his conduct during
talk wa^^ hilarious, as befitted the scene. The his absence; finished ponring out the coffee;
broad roads were filled with swiftly gliding ordered the servant to replace the cover of the
equipages, and the air resonant with merry tureen, and dismissed her, saying that she
Toices and chiming bells. Janetta paid little would summon her when she was needed.
what was going on about her
risible lievd to ;
After this there was no more said for the next
took no part in the intercliange of salutations ten minutes. Mr. Moore was gone at least that
that were continually passed, as we met ac- long. Leah's flushed cheek, flashing eye, and
quaintances and friends. She bad drawn her compressed mouth were enough to deter a
veil closely over her and sat bolt upright,
face, bolder person than myself from opening a con-
looking neither to the right nor the left, with- versation upon indifferent topics, and every
out uttering one syllable. As we neared home, principle of honor and delicacy withheld both
she lifted her handkerchief to her eyes, and of us from alluding to the subject that engrossed
her cousin bestowed a searching, sidelong our minds.
glance upon her, from which circumstances I Charles's temper was less inflammable than
inferred that lier obdurate mood had assumed his wife's, and while he looked annoyed upon
a softer form. She went quickly into the house, his return from his fruitless errand, he yet ac-
upon alighting at our door, and straight on to costed us with his customary cheerful courtesy.
her chamber, her veil still wrapped over her " Nettie begs to be excused from appearing
features. Leah's thouglitfulness and bountiful again to-night, ladies. I have been scolding

hospitality had provided a hot supper for us her a little, and the poor, sensitive child is

coffee, oystei-s, and biscuit

which was served nearly heart-broken."
in the npjier sitting-room, by the time we had "Did she send no apology for her unjustifi-
divested ourselves of our mufflings. Mr. Moore, able rudeness to Miss Allison and myself during
iu dressing-gown aud slippers, looking very our ride V
asked Leah, sternly.
gay, comfortable, and handsome, occupied his " She is very sorry that she marred the plea-
arm-chair at the head of the little round table. sure of our excursion by her silly moodiness.
Leah and I at his right. The chair
sat opposite, There is no accounting for woman's whims and
to the left remained vacant. humors. Miss Allison."
"My dear, have yon sent for Nettie?" in- "Pray, do not judge all women by Janetta
quired the host, as he dipped the ladle in the Dalrymple!" Leah's vexation mastered her
smoking tureen. prudence. " Her behavior this evening was
"I have. She does not wish any supper." more than whimsical. It was ill-bred and un-
" What !" suspending his hand midway be-
kind a display of temper such as no lady
. tween the dish and plate. would be guilty of."
"She does not care for supper, she says," " You are hard upon her, Leah. She has
repeated Leah, quietly. her faults but she is incapable of offering an
;

"There must be some mistake! I never intentional insult to any one, particularly to a
knew her refuse oysters before, let them be friend whom she respects, and a connection
offered when they might. She is surely not whom she loves as sincerely as she does you."
well." "A depth of respect I should never have
" I sent up a second message to inquire if she suspected had not you informed me of it I !

were indisposed, and if I might supply her am sorry to say it, Charles, very sorry to disa-
with a cup of coffee in her room. She declined gree with you upon this or any other point
taking any refreshment, and said that she was but I do not think that you are going the right
very well." way towork to correct Janetta"s faults, if that
Mr. Moore ladled out a plateful of the savory is your wish. She is both unreasonable and
" stew" for me, and another for his wife then ; selfish."
pushed his chair back. "Just what I have been telling her, my dear
" I will go up and speak to Nettie myself." wife ; so we agree there ! If yon please, we
"Charles I" ejaculated hi^ wife. will dismiss this matter for the present. It is
" I will be back in a moment, my love," and an exquisitely painful thought to me that my
he was gone. favorite relative
one whose attachment to my-
I have seen Charles Moore grieve and wound self is that of a sister for an elder brother,


418 godey's lady's book and magazine.

should have failed so sigually to conquer your speech and action reminding me of nothing so
pi'ejudices and win your affection. Don't sup- much encomium passed upon Miss Merry
as the
pose tliat I blame you for this, however I I Pecksniff by her poetic admirer: "Oh, she
kiiuw that she tries hard to please you, to make was a gushing young thing !" She affected no
you love her,and I think tliat you are not in- secrecy as to her doting love for her cousin
tentionally unkind to her ; but I believe. Miss " her best, her only friend 1" She worshipped
Allison, tliat it is a well-established although him abroad, as at home and in private, and
an unexplained fact, that no two women, how- Charles Moore was not superior to the weakness
ever excellent and lovely, can dwell for two of liking to be worshipped by an attractive
months under the same roof in perfect con- woman. What man unless he be an ancho-
cord." rite or a dullard is not liable to fall into the
I answered that Ihad certainly known ex- like temptation ?

ceptions to his rule, and passed, gladly, to
other themes of discourse.
In this single instance I could not acquit
Leah of blame. She had spoken injudiciously,
and at the wrong time yet my heart ached ;
for her none the less on this account. I may
not, in my spinsterly experience, be the best
judge of such questions, but it
that few women, who really love their hus-
bands, could have borne more patiently the
spectacle of the petulant disappointment, the
undisguised chagrin, excited in a young and
fond maiden by the discovery that, instead of
her being permitted to enjoy the anticipated
affectionate tlte a tHe with the said husband,
The intimacy between the idol and the de-
votee became more marked each day, and the
slighted wife still saw all perchance saw and
feared more than did really exist, and suffered
silently. It is not suffering like this that makes
the soul strong. I verily think that Leah could
have borne more easily entire estrangement
appears to me and divorce from her husband than the anom-
alous existence she led just now. Then there
would have been no ground for hope, no food
for love, such as the presence, the loving looks
and words, the acts of kindness and liberality
that now brought with them a mildly sweet
agony. to have so much and yet not possess,
all ! It was very selfish but then, as Miss
;

his lawful spouse was to form one of the com- Dalrymple has remarked, " all married people
pany. I doubt if even Griselda, milk-and-water are selfish." I take the liberty of adding on
angel though she was, would, out of the pleni- my own authority, "Or ought to be !"
tude of her insipid amiability, have witnessed Leah and I were paying a call, one afternoon,
such an exhibition unmoved by some spice of at a house that stood exactly opposite to Mr.
conjugal jealousy, or that she would not have Moore's law-office. " Why do you not bring
set her wits to work to conjecture what could that nice little cousin of yours to see me, Mrs.
be the nature of the intercourse which was Moore?" asked the hostess, by and by. "I
thus impatient of the presence and surveillance have taken quite a fancy to her from seeing
of her who should have been the gentleman's her in the street. She Seems to be very fond
best friend and prime counsellor. Between of out-door exercise."
ourselves, moreover, dear reader, I do not be- Leah made answer that this was the case.

lieve that Griselda loved her kingly lord with The lady continued " Not a day : passes,

one tithe of the fervor that glowed
of this untitled American wife
Miss .Janetta never apologized to the object
of her profound respect or to her visitor for her
misbehavior, nor did her demeanor to us bear
the salutary fruits of repentance and reforma-
tion, malijr^ her cousin's scolding
in the bosom unless the weather is very stormy, that she
for hers. does not call in at Mr. Moore's office, across the
way, and she often tempts him to join her in
her rambles. I like to watch them walking
together. They appear to be very much at-
tached to one another."
and her con- " JIamma " The speaker's daughter checked
!

sequent broken-beartedness. In his absence her innocent volubility. " You have dropped
she favored us with very little of her society, your spectacles !" And in restoring them, she
a deprivation we could not deplore while her gave her senior a meaning look that silenced
uniform bearing, when she did vouchsafe the her.
honor, was flippant and supercilious, and her- "They are very sincerely attached to one an-
other! " replied Leah, composedly. " It would
self a decided specimen of the nil admirari
school, so far as our pursuits and plans were be strange if they were not, since they were
concerned. To Mr. Moore, she was a totally reared almost like children of the same mother."
different being her perpetual outbreaks of
; The world should not asperse his fair fame,
artless enthusiasm; her girlish warmth of however grievously her confidence in him
 LEAH irOOKE'S TRIAL. 419

might be shaken. She would play her part detecting signs of hoarseness in her voice, I
bravely iu public, if the lacerated heart quiv- stopped her, fearful lest she should be ex-
ered and bled to death in tlie effort. hausted by the prolonged effort.
How long would this faUe and hollow show " It will be a sorry return to make Mr. Moore
of tranquillity last ? how lonp the surface of the for his considerate attention to our wishes, if
groaning deep smile, as with sunuuer calm f we present to him a voiceless wife in the morn-
were tliou^'hts that haunted me day and night. ing 1"
I inwardly couilemned Leah's reserve with her She laughed, and agreed to postpone the
husband as much as I admired her concealment perusal of the volume to the morrow. Still

of the true state of her domestic affairs from holding it, and now and then turning a leaf,

othei-s.While she bore his name, and lived unwilling, as it were, to lay aside this tangible
with him in seeming amity as his wife, she token of his remembrance of and kindness to
had no right to smother thoughts within her her, she narrated, with affected carelessness,
breast that were eating away her life to brood ; other examples of a similar nature favors ;

darkly and secretly over imaginations that
multiplied, and were magnified in the darkness.
Her skirts wer not quite clear while this policy
was pursued. Yet she was actuated by no mean
shown and benefits conferred, as afiropos, and
in a manner as delicate. In her happier moods
now, alas far less frequent than of old she
!
enjoyed nothing more than to talk of him and ;

cowardice orsuUenness in adopting this course.
A prouder woman never lived. She would
have died sooner than play the spy upon an-
other's actions. While she would, and did try
to prevent the growth of the attachment be-
tween her husband and his cousin by all fair
and honorable means, strove, conscientiously
'and constantly, to win back the love she feared
and believed was straying from her, she scorned
to attack her persecutor with her own weapons,
or to constrain, by reproaches and threats, the
return of the recusant. She would not owe to
would enumerate his manifold virtues in my
hearing with the simple-heartedness and cir-
cumstantiality of a child. I imagined some-
times that she strengthened her own faith in
his affection by rehearsing these proofs of it to
me. To-night, she was very hopeful with re-
gard to other subjects, all bearing a close con-
nection to this master emotion. She spoke of
a certain and momentous event, now not many
weeks with calmness even pleasure.
distant,
" We shall both be happier then, Maria, and
I hope and feel that I shall be a better woman.

duty and law that which should be the sponta- I have grown irritable and unjust of late have ;

neous tribute of a true and loving heart. developed traits that not even the fact of my
Thus matters stood when was seized with
I being a prey to this unfortunate and, it would
a violent cold that confined to my bed for
me seem, unconquerable nervousness can excuse.
several days. Leah spent most of the day, I told Charles this evening how heartily ashamed

and a portion of each evening, iu my apart- I was of my variable and pettish moods, and
ment. Mr. Moore was busily engaged with promised that, he would bear with me a little
if

preparations for an important suit in which he longer, I would promise better things for the
was counsel, and could spare but half an hour future."
or so for his after supper smoke and talk in the returned a cheering reply, and there was
I

sitting-room the pleasant home-chat which, a pause. Mr. Moore's "den" his wife's fa-
Leah had once told me, was to her the most vorite aversion, according to her declaration,
delightful event of the day, however choice was directly above my room, and there pene-
might have been its other pleasures. She was trated the ceiling, now, the low murmur of a
uncommonly cheerful, the third evening of my deep voice.
confinement, although she came to me earlier "Hear the man!" langhed Leah. "He is
than upon either of the two previous ones. studying his tiresome briefs as a school-boy
" Isn't Charles the most tlionghtful fellow in would con his spelling-book Does he often I

the world ?" was her introductory remark. amuse you in this way f"
" Overrun by business, as he is, he could yet " I have heard the same sound many times
remember the name of the book we were wish- before," I rejoined.
ing for yesterday, and went iialf a dozen squares She listened, smilingly. She loved the very
out of his way, as he came up town, to get it. echo of that voice better than she did the finest
Shall I commence it forthwith ?" music in the world.
I assented, gratifiedly ; and, seating herself " He must enjoy hearing himself talk 1" she
under the shaded light, she began. The road- resumed. " One might suppose him a magician
iug had lasted an hour and a half; when, holding converse with his familiar demon, cou-
 ;

420 godey's lady's book and magazine.

jured from the vasty deep by the inoense of his albeit it was not an nnmnsical one in itself, and
inseparable cigar. Did you ever venture a look her accents, than in the earlier
less cautious
into the recesses of his grotto ?" part of the evening, or more audible by reason
" Never !" of the surrounding hush, offended my sensitive
" I will show yon the mysterious chamber auriculars I only marvelled that I was so late
;

some day when he is not at home. I never in arriving at the truth.

approach the charmed precincts myself, if he is There was but one drop of comfort in the
within. If he has a private study, it must be troubled thouglits that kept me awake far into
inviolable by all human foot during study the night until after eleven which o'clock, at
hours, he says. This was the stipulation he hour I heard a movement in the study overhead
made when he had the room fitted up. I could then a door closes softly, and light footsteps
not bear to have him write and read in his retreat in the direction of Miss Dalrymple's
office at night. It is an inexpressible comfort room. Mr. Moore did not descend to his rest
to know that the same roof covers us both, until past midnight but he did not study
;

although I do not see him." aloud. The single consolation which I derived
She retired early, quitting my room by ten from the events of the evening was that Leah
o'clock and, feeling myself unable to obey
; had not suspected these clandestine interviews
her injunction to immediate slumber, I lay I could give them no other name. Things
listening idly to the slight sounds that, in this were assuming a more serious aspect. The
quiet quarter of the town, varied the silence of reckless girl was not only betraying the confi-
the night. The chief of these was the murmur dence and abusing the hospitality of her host-
overhead, and found myself barkening to it,
I ess,but imperilling her own reputation in th
after a while, with kindling interest. It was eyes of servants and chance visitors. I won-
intermittent, I noticed, and in the deepening dered if it ever crossed Mr. Moore's mind what
without and within, I fancied, as it
stillness construction the prying curiosity of his domes-
came more distinctly to my senses, that the tics might put upon these prolonged and uu-

tone was colloquial, not meditative or horta- seasonable visits of this young and fond cousin
tory next, that the pauses of irregular length
; to aremote and lonely part of the house, well
were made to admit the replies of some one understood to be his private study privacy,
else ; then, that a voice of different pitch and which even their mistress respected. I knew
quality filled these up. I was dismissing the that Miss Janetta would have met such au
idea, with a smile at my fantasies, when impertinent insinuation with a bold face, and
there fell room I can use no other
into the the maxim I had heard many times from her
expression that would fitly describe the sud- lips" Evil to him that evil thinks." Perhaps
denness and weight with which it burst upon I was full of evil thoughts and all nnoharitable-

me there fell into the room the unmistakable ness ; but I could not resist the conviction that

sound of a laugh a peal, in which two voices the majority of those whom this artless and
blended, and I recognized both ! daring damsel daily met in society would judge
Janetta Dalrymple's chamber was likewise in her conduct as' I did many more harshly.
the third story, at the back of the house, a situ- Discoveries, like most other earthly events,
ation she preferred on account of the view and are epidemic and, being aware of this fact, I
;

seclusion ; and here she professed

spend her to ought not to have been so startled and con-
Bvenings in reading or writing, when we were fused at a proposition made by Leah a few
without company, and she was not at the piano. nights after became convalescent. We were
I

This, then, was the inviolable sanctuary which in the "snuggery" alone Mr. Moore having Aj
the wife's footsteps must not approach ! this, pleaded urgent business to be transacted Tl
the studious retirement, for which the indus- deeds drawn, or copied, or something of that
trious lawyer had forsaken her society here 1 kind, and Miss Janetta bidden us a cool " Good-
was the solution of the strange noises I had so night," without making any apology whatever.
frequently heard upon other occasions, when I A ring at the front door heralded the appear- - ,

had bidden Leah "Good-night," and sought ance of the housemaid, burdened with a Uirge |
my pillow ; oftentimes receiving with her kiss bundle.
a sigh that "Charles would injure his Wealth " From the dressmaker's, ma'am," she said,
by studying so late and so much at night !" delivering it to her mistress.
There was no self-deception in the present Leah sprang up gleefully. "Do you know,
case. I only wondered, as once and again Miss Allison, that Ihave been doing something
Janetta's peculiar laugh set my teeth on edge, very naughty something for which your lady-
 ;;

LEAH MOORE'S TRIAL. 421

ship will lierate me vnry soiiniily f Nof Thou arch, and glowing with mischief. I never saw
listen and behold Do you remt>iulier the
! her look so again.
cashmere roh<t de chamhre we were a^lmiring
" We will enter together storm tbe garrison
the otlier day ? I went out that afternoon and with united forces !" she whispered, seizing my

selected two one for niy unworthy self, the hand. ,

other for somebody whose worth I know, and
you do not !"
While speaking, her rapid fingers were tear-
ing off the papers, and she now called upon me
to take my choice of the wrappers. This was no
easy matter, when both were so beautiful. I
represented, vainly, that I would be deliglited
Throwing the door wid" open, she proclaimed,
theatrically, "Knterau invading " The words
froze upon her lips.
Mr. Moore sat nearly facing the door upon a
lounge, whereou half lay reclined, she would
have said Miss Janetta. His arm was about
her waist her head was laid upon his shoul-
;

with either, and tried to thank her for her ele- der their hands were clasped, and his cheek
;

gant gift. She interrupted me with declarations rested upon her sunny hair. If the picture, seen
that I should make a selection, or she would Viut for one second, was burned, as if by light-
force both upou me. We were precisely the ning, upon my memory, how felt the deceived
same height our complexions were similar
; wife
the lofty-souled, pure-minded woman,
we had the same breadth of shoulder and who stood like a statue in the doorway, the
length of arm, and these were alt tlie requisites amazed, outraced spectator of the group !

demanded in loose roI>es. I hung back,

still With a half scream of nervous horror, J.inetta
and she suegested that we should try them on, sprang to a sitting posture, and gazed, pale
and ascertain their comparative becoraingness. with aflfright, upon the unwelcome intruder.
"This redoubles difficulties!" was her de- Mr. Moore met Leah's eye, not without a slight
cision, as we surveyed ourselves in the mirror change of featnre and color, hut far more calmly
then looked at one another from head to foot, than I had believed it practicable for any man
aud laughed like two school-girls iu a mas- to appear in such circumstances. Either his
querading frolic. " I tell you what we will do ! self-control outmatched his cousin's, or his
We will besiege the 'den,' drag Charles out, conviction of guilt was less strong. He arose,
and make him settle the question The emer- ! with no show of trepidation but Leah's speech
;

gency of the case justifies extreme measures. forestalled his.

His taste in ladies' attire is infallible
perfectly " My business can wait. I will not inter-
miraculous !" rupt you further !"
She ran oS before I could collect thoughts "Stay "be began, eagerly: but the door
and words to oppose her. I overtook her at was already shut, and I was following Leah
the foot of the stairs. down stairs.
"But, Leah!" She paused upon the threshold of her cham-
"But, Maria!" ber. " You will excuse nie if I leave you
" I am afraid that Mr. Moore may not like somewhat abruptly, Maria?"
our interrupting him." "Certainly!"
"Of course, he will be as cross as a bear: We parted, without so much as a pressure of
and we, being babies, are afraid of bears I" she the hand. She was not yet brought so low in
retorted, ironically, conscious, as I was, that spirit to accept any sympathy
not even mine
no extent of provocation from a lady could force upon this subject. Her husband came down
her gentlemanly husband to an unseemly show a few minutes later, and for an hour and more,
of irritation. "One would think, from your I could discern the faint murmur of their
rueful visage, that yon were going to peep into conversation. Perhaps it was as well that this
the cave of Trophonins. I will take the re- denouement had taken place, I reflected. De-
sponsibility ! Come, I say !" spite this one great fault of conduct, I liked
Icould not refuse to go without wonnding or Charles Moore. I hoped that he had erred more
offending her; and, after all, Miss Dalrymple through thoughtlessness, than lack of principle
might be at that instant buried in one of her or from waning love for his wife was certain ;

favorite French novels in her own chamber
for once, harming nobody but herself. How-
ever this might be, I would linger some paces
behind Leah, that she might first explore the
forbidden region. At the entrance, she stopped
and beckoned to me imperatively her face
that he had a very imperfect conception of the
p.ain this, to his apprehension, lawfnl and in-
nocent intimacy had occasioned her. If he
once understood what were her feelings and
wishes with regard to it, every sentiment of
mauliuess aud affection would prompt him to
 :

422 qodey's lady's book and magazine.

pursue a different course, and this he must likewise denied the light of her countenance,
learn during tbe explanation now in progress. and Mr. Moore looked wretchedly uneasy.
If Leah would only be true to herself, and just His solicitude was so marked as to be distress-
to liim, he could not fail to derive a severe, but ing, When the morrow failed to bring her down
assuredly a useful lesson. to breakfast. His own appetite had deserted
Thus hoping, I fell asleep, and dreamed that him, and his temper was on the point of fol-
Janetta Dalrymple was comfortably supplied lowing its example, if one might judge from
with a husband of her own, whose home was the unwonted asperity of his injunction to his
iu California
an event that threw me into an wife.
ecstasy of joy, terminating prematurely the " I desire, Leah, that yon go up and see that
entrancing vision. poor child some time during the forenoon. She
is here under my care, and, whatever may he
her faults In your eyes, common humanity de-
mands that she shall not suffer for want of
CHAPTER IV. attention while she is sick."
Miss Daleymple came down to breakfast the He had forgotten my
presence hut Leah ;

next morning, sola, notwithstanding my dream was mindful of it; and while she grew white
smilingly oblivious, so far as mien and words to her very lips, rejoined, in calm dignify
indicated, of having transgressed the sliglitest "Your wishes shall he obeyed. I will see that
rule of good breeding, tosay nothing of decorum she wants for nothing which I can procure or
or morality. She got a very grave, cool salu- do for her."
tation all around the table in exchange for her The visit of inquiry was duly made ; repeated
bland "Good-morning." Her first observa- in the afternoon and semi-daily, with conscien-
tion
a jaunty comment upon the weather tious regularity, during the term of the interest-
was directed to Leah, whose response was civil ing sufferer's confinement. Those must have
and brief; her next, playfully affectionate, was been queer interviews, I thought hut Leah ;

to her cousin. He replied iu the dryest imagi- brought no report of them below, at least none
nable tone, scarcely looking at her as he did to me. For five days, the grieving maiden
so ; and, turning away so soon as the sentence maintained the rffle of invalid, persisting in her
wa3 finished, he began a conversation upon refusal to accept medical aid, and subsisting
commonplace topics with me, occasionally ap- upon alarmingly light rations of tea and toast.
pealing to Leah. Janetta's demeanor was con- I had no fears of her becoming dangerously

summate in its well-acted surprise, deepening enfeebled by this penitential regimen. She
into injured feeling, and the naive bewilderment carried with her, into her retirement, an abun-
of an innocent grieved child, at undeserved re- dant supply of adipose matter to sustain her
proach. She could not eat try though she ; during a whole hibernation, and I applauded
seemed swallow her distress and break-
to do, to her discrimination in having selected the means
fast together, and sat, throughout the remainder of punishment best adapted to her offence and
of tbe meal, mutely dejected. The uncomfort- present position to tbe really injured party.
able repast to all of us was finally concluded. But Mr. Moore's moodiness was fast changing
Mr. Moore arose, walked around to his wife's into misery. True, he rarely mentioned her
seat, and gave her his customary " Good-by" name, and his attentions to Leah were assidu-
kiss before going to his office then, merely ;

ous so studied and punctilious that she shrank
saying, "Good-morning, ladies !" to his cousin from them in absolute pain. Still, his spirits
and myself, left the room. Miss Dalrymple had declined utterly he ate little talked fit-
; ;

followed him into the hall, as she often did, fully and without animation, and was subject

even when he had parted with her in our pre- to spells of gloomy musing in short, acted ;

sence had bestowed, with his brotherly kiss,

;
like a man who had met with a heavy, stun-

a tap upon the cheek, or a caressing stroke of

ning blow one which he felt to be irremedi-
the head, always some merry, affectionate word. able.

When I went up stairs, they had withdrawn to
the parlor, from which issued the
convulsive sobbing and Mr. Moore's mournfully
resolute tones.
No Janetta appeared at dinner that day.
" She was indisposed, and would take nothing
to eat," Catharine reported. The tea-table was
Never had I regarded Leah with such love
sound of and reverence as during that trying week.
There was not a spark of haughty resentment,
not tbe most distant approach to retaliation iu
her manner to her husband. Another woman
was pining for the demonstrations of affection
he had pledged himself to withhold, and she
 LEAH MOORE'S TRIAL. 423

coald not but read in bis altered bearing bis and depression, that had contributed to bring

settled sadness and prolonged seasons of alv about this critical condition of reason and
Ptracted i>ensiveneS3, tlie terrible truth that health.
she was no longer adequate to fill his heart, or Janetta Dalrymple, now that her illness no
make his home what he bad avowed it to be in longer produced a sensation, and brought dis-
the past: yet she strove humbly and prayer^ comfort to herself only, had found it convenient
fully, if not hopefully, to contribute all that to declare it at an end, and made sundry shy
she could to hij comfort and happiness, was, to overtures of consolation and sympathy to her
all intents and purposes, his slare. She kept kinsman, all of which he swept aside as if he
up nobly the foixed show of cheerfulness, not saw them The deeper fountains of his
not.
to him alone, but with me. Not an allusion to being were stirred, and in these she had no
the unhappy estrangement, brought every hour share. Slowly the beloved one struggled back
to my notice, escaped her lips in our most con- to sanity and strength. She gazed, at first

fidential moments. Native strength of charac- vacantly, then with loving anxiety, into the
ter and early discipline had taught her how to pale, sorrow-stricken face that now hardly left

endure anguish and make no sign. her bedside, day and night, more haggard by
The overtried nerves and neglected body reason of the effort he made to smile, as he saw
failed first. Charles Woore was aroused fioni that he was recognized. Once more her tongue
his dream of selfish woe by her sudden and pronounced his name in fond, natural accents ;

dangerous illness. For forty-eight hours I
question whether he ever remembered Janetta
Dalrymple's existence, unless, indeed, the
thonght were one lash in the whip of scorpions
lield by Remorse. All through the second
her cheek was pillowed upon his breast, while
great, scalding tears, he could not keep back,
bedewed her hair. It was not a sight for other
eyes, and I stole away to weep for very gladness.
was still in my chamber, and hardly calm
I

night of his wife's sickness, he walked the floor again, when a knoc^ was heard at the door and
of the room jidjoiuing his wife's chamber, in a Miss Janetta answered my bidding to enter.
state of mind bordering upon distraction. With " I looked in, upon my way to bed, to inquire
the da\rn came tidings that, at another time,
how Leah how Mrs. Moore is now."
would have awakened a thrill of holy and "Better," I replied. "Much better, we
happy emotion. When the nurse brought his think, and, at last, qnite sensible."
first-born son to him, and would have given " You are then more hopeful as to her re-

liim, in proud ceremony, into his father's arms, covery ?"

the glassy eyes surveyed the tiny stranger a.s " We are decidedly !"
ifthey saw him not. There was no movement She had declined my profl'er of a seat, and
of fond welcome the parched lips articulated
; now stood before the grate twisting her bracelet
bnt one sentence " How is she ?"
: her cousin's gift until the soft flesh grew
She was very low not rational, and too
; red beneath the friction and pressure.
weak, if she had been, to see even him. " It is your design to leave us in a few days,
" It is just!" he gasped, when the physician Miss Allison ? I believe I heard you
is it not,
reluctantly recommended that he should not say something of such an intention, this morn-
run the risk of agitating her by a visit. " It is ing, to my cousin Charles."
just only just !" "Yes. I must go very soon. I have lin-
" I must confess that I was surprised at his gered already longer than I expected to do
ready acquiescence in my judgment," said the when I ctme, on account of Leah's illness."
doctor to me, in describing the scene. " I was " You are an orphan like myself, unless I am
prepared to enconnter strenuous opposition. mistaken ?"
These very devoted husbands are generally "I am."
tinruly under such a sentence." She turned slowly towards me and fixed her
I did not explain the hidden meaning of the keen eye upon mine.
exclamation that sounded to the man of medi- " And this w.\3, in your estimation, a snflS-
cine like the utterance of prudent submission cient reason for the hatred yon conceived against
to wise counsel but my heart bled for the
; me before yon had known me a day, which has
misguided being undergoing the agonies of an manifested itself in innumerable persecutions
accusing conscience, that saw, in this exclusion ever since?"
from her presence in this fearful hour, a right- I answered, in astonishment, that I had never
eons retribution for his wilful neglect of her in persecuted or interfered with her in the slight-
the seasons of loneliness and debility, of trial est degree.
VOL. LXVII. 34


424 godey's lady's book axd magazine.

She interrupted me. "You have not scru- compassion surround Leah like a shield and
pled to play the spy upon my actions, and to halo. Was the girl mad, or dreaming ? Silly
put the worst possible constiuclion upon the or impetuous I knew she was not. She was
most innocent of these to slander me to Mrs.
; safe in gratifying her spleen by the delivery of
Moore, and arouse against me her enmity also ;
lier denunciations against me to my face. I

to sow the seeds of strife between husband and comprehended this, as she intended should
I ;

wife, and all that you might render this my knew that she appreciated my impotency as
only home, in the absence of my natural pro- thoroughly as I did myself. Not to rescue my
tector, as intolerable as it was once happy [ good name from universal ignominy would I
Oh, you have done a good work in these six have risked Leah's returning life and senses by

weeks one that you have cause to be proud ominous sign or speech. I must go and leave
of! But I am not here to criminate, or to her in happy ignorance of the prepared mine ;

quarrel with you. I merely wished, as was could only commit her to the Helper of the in-
bat natural, to notify you of my purpose to nocent, the Trust of the upright.
thwart your righteous designs. So soon as Mrs. The evening before my departure I went to
Moore is sufficiently strong to bear the excite- her room, at nightfall, to sit with her until
ment of the disclosure, I shall, in the presence tea-time. I had heard Mr. Moore leave her and
of her husband, unravel the whole mystery of run down stairs, then out of the house, but a
your iniquity; right myself in her eyes or leave moment before, and surmised correctly that he
the house. Not even your macliinations have had gone to procure some newly-thought-of
.<;haken his faith in me. Vou had best make dainty, wherewith tempt her slender and
to
your foundations sure before you leave your varying appetite. He was continually recol-
dupe. I give yon leave and notice to do this. lecting "just the thing" to please her palate
/ never fight in the dark never stab in the and "bring up her strength," and the result
back. God defend the right I" was a supply of delicacies, rare, rich, and
"Amen !" I returned, fervently. "You ought delightful, that would have surfeited a well
know, you do not. Miss Dalrymple, that person. moved
to
there is
if

not one syllable of truth in all you should she

I

feel
qnietly, not to disturb
disposed to sleep, and
lier,

when
I
liave said. I Ijave never acted the spy or in- her weak, sweet voice broke the silence of
former with respect to yourself or any one else. the dim chamber, I supposed, for a minute,

]f I have seen much in your conduct that ap- that she was speaking to me. The latter part
peared reprehensible, according to my ideas of of the sentence undeceived me. She was fond-
light and honor, Mrs. Moore is none the wiser ling the babe who lay upon her arm.
for these impressionsand opinions. If she has "We have had a dear, blessed visit from
witnessed yet more to grieve and displease her, him evening, haven't we, baby dear ?
this
.>;he has been equally discreet towards me. I Mamma thought once yes, many times that

do not expect you to credit this" she would never be so full of peace and happi-
She interrupted me again with her mocking, ness again as she is now. We have won him

sneering smile cool and deadly the look poor back, my own lieavensent blessing!"
Leah dreaded and disliked beyond expression. By this time I had slipped out as noiselessly
" You ai-e correct in the supposition. I see as I had entered.
no necessity for a further interchange of com- I see that picture yet in my dreams, at times :

pliments. We understand one another. I have the shaded bed, the but expressive out-
faint,

the pleasure of bidding you good-night." line of the young mother's face bending lov-
Did I understand her ? Had I then, or could ingly down towards the infant I hear the ;

Ihave any just conception of the motives, base gentle tones, tremulous with joy as weakness,
and pitiful, that urged her to renewed efforts bnt I say no more to her hopeful asservatiou
for the destruction of her unoffending victim's "God grant it!" for mother and child seem
peace ? And were this accomplished, finally always to be lying upon the crumbling verge
.ind irretrievably, what possible benefit could of a precipice.
accrue to herself from the consummate villainy,
beyond the gratification of a senseless vanity
and petty revenge ? If she iudeed loved Charles
Moore in an unlawful degree, if he were sepa-
CHAPTER V.
rated, divorced from his wife and free to seek One sultry August evening, seven months
liis would-be charmer's hand, public scorn and after my visit to the Moores, as my brother
reprobation would be their portion respectful ; and myself were seated at our quiet tea-table,


LEAH MOORE'S TRIAL. 425

a servaut bronglit the message that a lady herself upon my neck " Oh, Maria, will you
wished to see me iu the parlor. let me stay hero a little while, until I die ?"
"Slie o.iiue ill a carriage, ma'am, and has An alarming tit of hysterics succeeded. It

brought a trunk," addud the girl, following was two hours later when, lying pale and ex-
me into the hall. "And she seems very tired ;
hausted upon her pillow, her hand clasped in
had 1 bflter get her room ready ?" mine, she told me the story of her sufferings
" By allmeans I" And anticipating a meet- since we parted.
ing with some cousin or aunt from a distance, Janetta had not carried out her threat of-
I unclosed the parlor door. complaint against and exposure of my " niachi-
A woman had sunk down into a large arm- nations," in the hearing of both husband and
chair, near the middle of the apartment, and wife. She h.ad never attempted to traduce me
upon her knees lay a child, apparently asleep. to Leah, nor was her conduct, throughout the

1 had only time to make out tliis much in the

convalescence of the latter, in the slightest
dusk, \fhen the drooping-tiead of the weary- degree offensive. She was gentle, respectful,

looking fijjure was lifted, and a voice, familiar almost affectionate to the woman she had tried
in spite of its strained cadences, said, with an so hard to injure; accepted gracefully her

outburst of hysterical laughter :

" I have pre- secondary place in the household. Her atten-
sented myself at your doors uninvited, you tions transferred, for the most part, from the

see!" husband to the wife, were well-timed and skil-

ful her demeanor to Mr. Moore frank and free,

" Leah, my dear child can this be you ?" !
;

kind !ind cousinly, yet evincing no desire for a

cried I, hurrying forward.
prominent place in his regard, much less a
She laughed again. " I believe it is I am !

monopoly of his affections. In the generosity

not sure ! Ue is asleep !" as I took the child
" of her lately-regained happiness, Leah was
from her lap. I came off in such haste that
ready to consider much, if not all the misery of
I could not supply the place of his nurse, who
the past winter as the morbid dream of her
is sick. Then, too, wanted him
I all to my-
imagination. Her husband had declared, in
self for a little while, you know. I suppose
the most solemn terms, that she had misinter-
they could take him from me as it is, couldn't
preted many of his actions, and been misled by
iiiey?"
a diseased fancy in viewing others, and offered
"What an idea I" said I, cheerily, but with
to renounce not only all intimacy but iill inter-
secret and growing uneasiness at her strange
course beyond that of the coldest aivility, with
behavior. "Wliy, who would want him ?"
his cousin. Leah could not consent. It
To this
"That is what 1 try to remember Nobody 1
had never been her desire to interfere between
would care to be troubled with the care of him,
him and his relatives. She felt real pity for the
except the mother that bore him. And it does
friendless girl, committed for a time to his
seem to me that mine is the best right. She
guardianship, and expressed the wish that the
never cared for children, and I hope he will let
mistakes and misunderstandings of the past
me keep my boy !"
should be forgotten, and the three form in
" Ue is a noble fellow !" I responded, sooth-
future one united family. Nay, she went so
ingly, while my heart throbbed so violently it
far as to urge the propriety and kindliness of
.seemed that it must awaken the little sleeper this course upon Charles, when he hesitated
in my arms. " We will take him up to bed,
to make the experiment, and doubted whether
and mamma must have a cup of tea immedi- separation would not be best for all parties.
ately." By imperceptible degrees affairs slid back
Chattering on about the heat of the day, the into their old train. Janetta's m.inner lost its
do-st, my delight at seeing her about every- deference ; covert taunts and open sneers, when
thing that came into^iy he.od except the heavy, Mr. Moore was not by, taking the place of the
nameless fear that oppressed my spirit, 1 led loving appeal and soft answer. Charles never
the way to her chamber. There was a light harsh or impatient in speech or look generous ;

there, and when I had deposited my burden to supply every expressed wish of his wife ;

upon the bed I went up to Leah, who stood by watchful of her health and bodily comfort
a window, and offered to remove her hat and nevertheless yielded, as formerly, to the exi-
mantle. Turning her wild eyes upon me, she geant affection or vanity of his so-called sisterly
whispered, motioning towards the servant who kinswoman, and was, ere long, as thoroughly
was unstrapping the trunk, "Send her out!" her slave as in the dark old days to which Leah
Ai the door shut behind the girl, Leah threw had looked back with trembling whose sha- ;
426 godey's lady's book and magazine.

dow, she began to feel, was stealing
the doubtful brightuess of the preseut.
harder to endure in silence, now, than
been then. Her illness had unhinged and en-
feebled her nervous system. She was often
irritable and peevish with her husband con-
duct invariably regretted and apologized for by
herself, and attributed by him to her health,
when a more searching inquiry would have
revealed to him a deeper cause iu a tortured
fast after between us !" were the words with which she
1^
It was quitted him.
it had How he broke the decision to Jauetta she.
never inquired; but he informed her coldly
the next day that she had written to engage
board during the summer months with her
distant cousin. The letter and its discussion
were not named between Jauetta and herself.
In the process of time, the serpent in the house
took her departure and, in spite of her hus-
;

mind. Too proud to speak ashamed to com-;
plain of the work whose beginning was appar-
ently in her own imprudent confidence aware,
moreover, that such remonstrance would be
band's lowering brow and marked depression
of spirits, Leah breathed more freely. Strong
; iu the might of her love, she believed that she
could yet win him back that, if the freshness
;

met by the recapitulation of the license she had and fervor of that early devotion, which is
given, she resolved to bear on dumbly until the made up of faith and hope, were gone, there
time for Mr. Dalrymple's return from abroad. might still be iu store for them a tranquil en-
As if no drop were to be wanting iu her cup joyment of life, and the society of one another
of trial, there arrived by the steamer in which and their boy, tliat might take from memory
they had expected him to take passage a letter, its sting. After a time, the salutary effects of
announcing his intention of prolonging his stay her endeavors after his comfort and pleasure
until the autumn. Ills sister could either re- began to be apparent. He recovered his cheer-
main where she w.as, he wrote, or take up her fulness seemed satisfied and happy in her
;

abode for the summer in the family of
cousin, who resided in the western part of the
State. It was like Jauetta Dalrymple to put
the letter and the question to be decided in
Mr. Moore's hands, instead of settling the mat-
ter promptly for herself. She had less
self-respect than any other woman I ever knew.
Of course Charles' inclination coincided with
gallantry and hospitality in recommending her
further sojourn under his roof. He was so
incautious as to say as much to
consulting Leah upon the and was subject,
reminded s.idly by his cousin that there might
be an essential difference of opinion upon this
point between the heads of the household.
Thus artfully prepared to expect and resist an
unreasonable show of opposition to his scheme,
he sought his wife, and opened up the question
in a tone that showed a foregone conclusion so
arbitrary as to render the form of consultation
a mockery. Her timid attempt at expostulation
was met sternly, and her long and carefully
repressed spirit arose iu arms. She painted,
with the burning emphasis of truth and feeling,
the neglect and insult which had been, and
were daily her portion, meted out by the hands
of husband and guest sketched the probable
; Upon the top
end of the entanglement that was constantly
binding him more tightly, and was already the
theme of slanderers' tongues, and closed by
declaring tliat, if he chose to retain Miss Dal-
rymple as a member of his family, she would
herself seeksome other abode.
" The time has come when you must choose
another company, and there was, in the attentions he
was never backward iu rendering, an alacrity
and soul whose lack she had felt most painfully
while seeing them continually exhibited in his
demeanor to another. If she suspected that he
genuine wrote regularly to his cousin, and received
letters in return, she put the idea out of her
mind as soon as possible, and concealed the
hurt his silence upon this he.ad caused her.
Four days ago, she went on to say, he had
her before told her of important business which would
call him away the middle of the month, and
might detain him from home for a fortnight
or more. He proposed, thoughtfully and kindly
as it seemed to her, that she should spend the
time of his absence with me. Thanking him
for this considerate attention to her wishes,
she promised to think over the matter, and
they separated for the day. Court was iu
session, and he had to hurry off to be at his
post in season. As she was passing through
the upper hall in the course of the forenoon,
she chanced to espy a waste- paper basket,
which the housemaid had brought down from
her master's study and Itft unemptied until
her work in the chambers should be done.
of the disorderly pile of torn manu-
scripts, old newspapers, etc., lay an unfolded
sheet of letter-paper, white and smooth, and
evidently recently written upon.
nical impulse of carefulness,
By a mecha-
prompting her to
I
see whether this might not have been added to
the refuse by the servant's blunder, Leah picked
it up and glanced over it.

I
 " "

LEAH MOOKE S TRIAL. 427

Voice and strength failed her. She drevr a herence that would have made me question
crumpleil paper from her travelling satchel the verity of certain portions, but for the un-
crumpleJ an>l worn as b.v numberless readings mistakable evidence of the letter. Smothering
and passed it to me ; then turned her face to my indignation, I tried to persuade her to
the wall. It was an nnfinished letter from sleep, for her child's sake, if not her own.
Charles Moore to Janetta Dalrjmple. "My
" iMy boy! yes I know! Put his cr.odla
own darling my
sweet Nettie," was the be- just here, where I can lay my hand upon it,
ginning. The purport of the communication was and be sure the door is locked, please They !

that he had made his arrangements to join tlie may try to rob me of him He is all they have !

travelling party which was to set out the next left me

everything!"
week for a fortnight's tour, and accepted, with The fearful misgiving awakened in my mind
eager pleasure, her invitation to become her by her first burst of emotion was too true ! Her
especial escort. sorrow and its unnatural suppression h.'id af-

" And I warn you, my pet, that I will brook fected her mind. In this persuasion, I made
no interference from the handsome young '
an e.tcuse of her apprehensions on her babe's
oollegi,iu' of whom you try to m.ike me jealous account to insist upon remaining with her all
you witch The thought of having you all
! night. She accepted the offer thankfully, and
to myself for two whole weeks h,is almost set with an effort at self command, that reminded
me crazy with joy. L. will probably pay Miss me of the Leah of other times when 1 had
AUisou a visit while we are gone. "I s-ay darkened the room and lain down upon a
'
we' to you, not her. Vou and I, my poor lounge, as if for repose she closed her eyes
d.%rling, have suffered too inteusely from her and tried to compose herself to slumber. She
absurd jealousy and prejudices in times past had rested thus but a few minutes, when a low
for me to run the risk of provoking the sleeping laugh, so hollow and desolate in its meaning
demon by revealing the direction of my jour- that it chilled my blood, came to ray ears.
ney, or in what company it will be made. I "Maria, they named me rightly, did they
have sacrificed my inclinations and happiness not? We could hardly have blamed Jacob,
to her so often during the last year, that I am had he deserted Leah entirely for the belter-
surely justifiable in seeking something like beloved Rachel !

heart-pleasure now. I shall count the mo- would that I could obliterate from my mind
I

ments nntil we meet as can keep from luy readers' eyes the scenes of
I

Here the delectable effusion had stopped. the week that followed. Afterthat fearful laugh
The date w.-us the very morning upon which and the accompanying words, there gleamed
Leah discovered the waif. He had undoubt- not one ray of reason upon her fevered braiu
edly forgotten it in his haste when he found for seven weary days and nights. She did not
that he was behind time. She told me briefly recognize her idolized boy, and talked to me as
by and by how she had heard hira that even- to a stranger. Oh I the matchless tenderness
ing inquiring of the servant whether she had the depth of woe revealed by the ravings of
taken a letter from his table, and blaming her, those dreadful hours Wronged deceived ! 1 !

with unwonted harshness, for having, as she deserted thus arose the climax of woes upon
!

confesseii, picked up one from the floor and put
it among the waste matter, adding that it was
well she had burned everything she had taken
dawn,^iMce there were papers in tlie basket he
jfonid not have meet other eyes for a thousand
dollars. For two days she h-ad to keep this
terrible secret locked up iu heart and brain to
act and speak as usual to forego mourning ;
over the love and hopes now indeed lost
buried forever then she calmly kissed him
; by the above-n.amed gentleman to our address,
"Farewell!" lield np this boy for a parting
caress, and, with tearless eyes, beheld hira de-
part to happiness and her successful rival.
Her own trunk w.is already packed, and she
took the next train for the town iu which was
my home.
which she h.id pondered until she bad gone
mad and what wonder ?
My brother wrote and teleeraphed in varions
directions for Mr. Moore. His partner in busi-
ness had been fnrnislied, as had Leah, aho,
before Charles left home, with the names of
; two or three places where communications
would be likely to intercept him, and there had
arrived two letters for Mrs. Moore forwarded
bntthe postmarks ujmn these gave no additional
clue to the wanderer's whereabouts, and, as we
learned subsequently, none of our messages or
notes reached him on the route.
Upon the eighth day, the sick woman awoke
from sleep, sensible, calm dying !

She poured out the story with a rapid inco- "I have dreamed of my mother, Maria I"
34
 ! !

428 godet's lady's book axd magazine.

she whispered, a smile of holy peace illumin- his torn conscience with these ;
purchased from
ing her wan features. "Do you remember it and forgiveness, as he would have hoped
rest
those words As one whom Ins mother com-
:
' to buy hers, had she survived the blow he had
forteth do not die alone while you and
?' I dealt her, for he wedded Jauetta Dalrymple iu

she aie liere and there is one nearer and less than eighteen months afterwards.
dearer yet !" I am thankful that, before this event took
The eyes, large and lustrous, looked stead- pliice, the sinless babe was gathered to liis
fastlyupwards the lips moved without souud.
; mother's arms, perhaps in answer to that
There was no need of audible language in that mother's prayers. I am glad in the thought

communion Then she asked for her babe,

! that in that high home of perfect peace, no
and, wliile he laughed in her face and cooed knowledge or memory is permitted to enter
his gladness at seeing her again, she laid her that could mar the serenity of the tried and
hand upon his head and breathed a blessing. faithful, of whom the world was not worthy.
" But for him, death would be all sweetness. They say that Mr. Moore lives happily with
As it is, I find it very easy !" his new wife, and it may be so. Justice and
Even in that awful liour, my thoughts ran judgment are not of this life. I knew that
swiftly back to anotlier uiglit three short when Leah died
years before when her happy tones had
full,

sunk with the weiglit of what I now read as

fulfilled prophecy.
" God knows how constant and earnest is my "IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN."
prayer tliat I may make him as happy as he 3T ELIZA FBASCES 1 OR A BTT.
I

deserves to be If the power is denied me, I

I When the pfarly gates of moiDing
shall find death very sweet !" Ope and tloud the earth with light,
my I arise, all foud aud hopeful,
Oh, She had not to
poor, poor friend I

Fi'om blest visions of the niplit,

wait long for tlie welcome guest, and his com-
WheQ I walked entranced beside her,
ing was painless as peaceful. Her last words Aud her baud was clasped in miue,
were, "Give my love to Charles I" Of his in- And her voice of ani,'el musi'c
fidelity and Janetta's vile treachery, she did Softly answered, " 1 am thine."

not once speak. Already, before the weary But my bliss was hriglit and fleeting,
As that dream of juy seiene
sank to lest, the wicked had ceased to trouble
Wliile the dawniui,' brightens upward
her. At that very time, according to the testi- Lone I weep, " It might have been."
mony of a member of the travelling party,
Day by day I bow in worship,
Charles Moore was waltzing with Jaiietta Dal-
As she moves in beauty by,
rymple in the ballroom of a fashionable water- Grace eiichauting iu her motion,
ing-place. Love's warm splendors in her eye
When he came to us, frenzied by the tidings 'Neath her feet my heart is lying
In wild idolatty
its
that had met him upon his return to his home, ;

But she turns finm me unconscious

his wife liad slept iu the grave for three days.
Of my great love's misery ;

I concealed nothing from him. I could not feel Every pulse that thrills my being
that he deserved mercy at my hands, although Throbs for her my idol queen
it was plain that his heart's blood welled at But my youth is lost in sighing,
Vainly now, "It might have been."
every stab. It was impossible for him to suffer

as he liad made her do, I reasoned savagely, Once, with love's mysterious power,

yet half terrified at the sight of his horror of I allured her eyes to me.
Quick they drooped with modest sweetness,
remorse.
My adoring look to see ;

" For pity's sake, no more !" he groaned, at

Oh, I seemed at heaven's gate standing.
last. " You will kill me My poor girl ! When her tender, gracious smile
Heaven is my witness that I did love her to Flashed a ray of glory o'er me,
the end I never dreamed of wronging her
!
Kindling all my life the while ;

But a shadow darkened o'er me,

If she had lived I could have explained every-
I'ate uprose our souls between,
thing I" And I pierce the night with crying
How, he did not say, nor did I care to inquire ; "God of love, it might have been I"

but I imagine that he would have attempted

a repetition of the arguments and assertions
that had brought balm to her wounded spirit Practice flows from principle ; for as a man
upon a former occasion. I suppose he assuaged thinks so will he act.
 THANKSGIVIXG.

Mn. Tax Lk.vxop tells ns that in the Ea=t village dressmaker had passed more than a
they have no suriiaiiie-i. A worthy, turbaiied week Oak Cottage, and, on her departure,
at
oltl gentleman is content to be known as "Ab- three new bombazines, three alpacas, and three
dallali, tlie fatlier of llakini," and Is so distin- black calicoes were left behind her as trophies
guished friim tlie other AUiallnlis of the neigh- of her skill. Not that Mrs. Murray liad so
borhood. Bachelors must be nobody under sucli profusely stored her own wardrobe. She Jjad
a regime I Wliat, too, becomes of family pri<le, bought and had made suitable dresses for " the
driven from its stronghold in surnames ? No girls," Miss Minty and Miss Molly, the daugh-
doubt it has otiier fastnesses, where it will ters of her house.
light to the death for its existence. How well Tall, thin Miss Minty, and short, fat Miss
it would suit Voung America to disown all con- Molly would never see their thirtieth birthday
nection with old-fogyish progenitors, and have again ; but their mother labored under a con-
the very "governors" reduced to being indi- tinual sense of their youth and inexperience,
yidnalizod only as the fathers of hopeful Bob, and cared as truly now for their wardrobe as
or Jim, or Orlando ! when they had been "wee toddling things."
Mrs. Murray wouM have gone to the stake It was well that " the girls" had no share in
sooner than submit to such a subversion of the choosing their mourning. Their eyes were so
natural order of things. It is doubtful whether swollen with weeping that, give tlie scientific
she would have been willing to go down to test-rub to the material as they might, tliey
posterity as themother of Washington himself. could not have properly scrutinized its fibre,
Not that Mrs. Murray was wanting in that affec- and might have been alarmingly taken in.
tion which dignifies even the she-bear, and is The young brother, who had been their joy,
the crowning beauty of the lovelieist feminine had fallen on a distant battle-field, and found
character. Its true, deep current partook of a lonely grave far from the home of his child-
the strength of her strong nature ; but its flow hood. Mrs. Murray had shed no tears. She
was secret and silent as that of the ice-hound had rejoiced to see her favorite child offering
river. She kept her children in due or undue himself for the service of his country, and
Bubjection. She li.id no idea of having lier when she received tidings of his death, she but
family tree turned upside down, so that tlie grew more pale and rigid, and uttered not a
roots miiht develop into branches, and the murmur.
branches take the place of the parent roots. A few weeks after this bereavement. Miss
No no ! Scotch on one side, and Puritan on
I Minty ventured to say: " I suppose we won't
the other, these were not the traditions in have any Thanksgiving this year, mother?"
which she h.id been bred. She was the head "No Thanksgiving, child! Have we. not
of her own household now, no matter what enough to be thankful for ? What do yoo
may have been the case in good .Mr. Murray's mean ?" was the astonished reply.
time, a period lost in the mystical p.%st, and " No pies, I
mean no Thanksgiving dinner.
never feferred to by the present self-sustained I thought perhaps we would not keep the day
mistress of Oak Cottage. just as usual this year," said Miss Minty.
Tall, stiflly-straight, pale, clear-eyed, well- "Pumpkin, cranberry tarts, apple, grape,
featured, well-dressed, and " well to do in the mince, lemon, custard, and chicken pie, I or-
world," Mrs. Murray was an admirable picture dered Mehitable to get ready for, and we will
of iv certain type of New England women. She make them to-morrow,
go into the kitchen and
afTected no airs of youth. Her white laye hand- girls. any reason why we should cease
Is it
kerchief was folded over her bosom, and her to be thankful because the hand of the Lord
mnslin cap was free from taint of bow or furbe- has been laid upon ns?" Thankfulness and
low. She wore human hair, smoothly brushed pies seemed indissolubly connected in Mrs.
over Iier forehead, and no attempt was made to Murray's mind.
disguise or root out the silver lines which Miss Minty gave a little sob, and Miss Molly
striped her bands of brown. disappeared through an open door. Neitlier
Jast now Mrs. Murray was in mourning. The of the girls was looking at Mrs. Murray so ;

429
430 godet's lady's book and magazine.

no one saw the quivering of her thin lips, and as the Mammoth Cave, with all its array of
the moisture in her clear blue eyes. stalactites and stalognites. We could never
remember which of these white fingers of the
Mrs. Murray stood with a pie well balanced past pointed up, and which down but we well ;

on her left Iiand, wliile, with her riglit, she know tljat all tlie pies in Mrs. Murray's oven
dexterously trimmed off the edges. Did her reverently looked towards the arching roof, the
thouglits wander to the merry boy, whose de- tarts with their wide open eyes, and the other
liglit it had once been to witness this part of gentry peering through the ocular slits, made
the Thanksgiving preparations ? Meliitable's in their covers for purposes known to Mrs.
apple-parings, slcilfully left in one unbrolcen Murr.ay.
coil, did they remind tlie mother of the strong The energetic mother always made a point of
young arm, wliich had so often thrown over having Miss Minty and Miss Molly witli her on
the shoulder tliese mystical auguries of mar- these days of preparation, ostensibly to help
riage To Miss Minty and Miss Molly, at least,
? her but in reality they were as useless re-
;

sucli remembrances were ever present, and tainers as were Saladin's Arabs with their head-
Meliitable was a perfect magazine of sighs, less lances. Meliitable, one of those doubtful
which were let off in volleys, more striking than treasures, an old family servant, preferred to
sentimental. pare and chop, stone and grate, herself; and
A trio of f.at chickens found a common grave Meliitable generally carried out her own views,
in a well-covered chicken-pie, and Mrs. Murray even in the face of Mrs. Murray. There was a
put on that epitapli in snuiiry hieroglyphics of legend of some former battle between these
twisted slips of paste. Mince-meat was chopped, great powers, from which each retired with a
and seasoned, and tasted, and chopped, and respect for the other's prowess, and a determi-
seasoned, and tasted, till all the various bliss- nation to keep to the terms of the perpetual
ful flavors were merged in the one, perfect, re- peace thereafter concluded.
sultant, crowning flavor which pronounced the No wonder Miss Minty and Miss Molly had
work complete. No little hard bits of apple, never had a chance to be "grown up," with
cold and crisp, no sudden surprises in the way two such overwhelmingly depressing influences
of morsels undoubtedly from the animal king- acting continually upon them. No voice, no
dom, but a perfect chaos, without organization will, no opinion, no mission, no sphere had yet
and suliject to no laws of classification. What been thouuht necessary for " the girls." They
are mince-pies made for? What enemy of were unrebellious suiijects under the most de-
mankind first promi)ted their composition ? spotic yet kindly will. Nature has her obsti-
Wliat inventor of patent dyspepsia medicine nate laws of growth, and shut out froiu her
brouglit into use these promoters of the disease legitimate development, she will yet have free
he would pretend to cure ? Mrs. Murray gave course in some direction. The fallen tree that
herself no trouble on this score. She lield to dams the stream, but turns the swollen current
mince-pies, as to baked beans on Saturday, as to right or left, or m.akes a waterfall of the
a fixed institution, not to be subverted by Car- quiet brook. Wedge round the turnip seed
lyle, orEmerson, or any other destroyers of the with stones, and the poor struggling thing will
old landmarks. make its way through the ciacks, and its mis-
Of the pumpkin pies, we hardly dare to trust shapen form will be as teeming with vegetable
ourselves to speak, yet on them the good house- life as if it had had fair play.

wife expended her They had

special care. Cut off from many an avenue
of joy and use-
been the favorites of her boy, and she seemed fulness. Miss Minty and Miss Molly had one
to have a kind of savage joy in making them path left them a sweet, sunny path, which
the very quintessence of melting deliciousness, leads more surely to the Kingdom of Heaven
while she would not allow a single tear to than the beaten highway, where the self-satis-

tremble on her lashes at the thought of his fied roll in their gilded coaches.
pleasant " Another piece, mother; nobody can Miss Minty and Miss Molly, unlike as they
make pumpkin pies like you." were in external appearance, had yet found a
Poor dwellers in cities, who know only of common outlet for their throbbing life. Their
ranges and stove-ovens, can never be properly woman's heart poured itself forth in tender
thankful, according to Mrs. Murray's notions. love to all the dead ones of the blood of the
Their eyes have never been gladdened with the Murrays, and especially to the young brother,
sight of one of those antiquated, artificial cav- whose loss had plunged them in grief. How
erns, as full of wonders to the eyes of childhood they inwardly shrank from this making of pies,
 !

THAXKSGIVIXG. 431

this "going ou as nsual," when the moriiiug Miss Molly liad barely time to substitute the
star had suuk in gloom I alpaca for the bontbazine (the latter being
sacredly allied to the crape veil, and devoted
Mrs. Murray was sitting "bolt upright" in to outdoor use) when dinner was announced.
her lawful oud of tho pew, listening to a Thanks- Mrs. Murray's two married sons had been
giving senuou. Think you the minister touched invited, as usnal, to dine with their mother,
tho tender chords of the human heart, and and, as usual, their wives were understood to
made them vibrate to a song of praise ? Think be included in the invitation.
you he an eye backward along life's jour-
cast There was stout Tom Murray, with bis pretty
ney, dwelling on the sunshine and the flowers, There was grave Robert Mur-
silly little wife.

the little children and the singing birds, the ray, with his merry, talkative partner. All
loving companionships and the household joys, were subdued to uncommon taciturnity by this
the blessings and the consolations, which every sad family meeting. These same people were
candid man must own have lightened his lot by no means always gloomy at home and around
and cheered his pathway ? Ah, no ! A fierce, their own table, in spite of that affliction but ;

hold promulgatiou of his individual views of being together, a stiff was

sort of solemnity
our country's "sea of troubles" was the sum pitclied upon by common consent, as the pro-
and substauce of the pastor's Thanksgiving per demeanor for the occasion.
sermon. AVhere he fouud his test we cannot Mrs. Murray took her place at the head of
s.ay doubtless he forced some bit of Scripture
; the table Robert, the oldest son, assumed the
;

to preface a speech, which was anything but a foot, while the two wives were ranged opposite
Gospel message to sinful man. their sisters-in-law. Vis-i-vis to Thomas Mur-
There was nothing touching, trnly, in this ray was a vacant chair, placed there by Mehi-
discourse, yet Miss Minty and Miss Molly had tahle's orders, perhaps to in.ike all balance, or,
their handkerchiefs at their eyes more thau possibly, as a silent remembrancer of him who
once during its delivery. Not to the orator's had once beeu the life of these family gather-
eloquence were their tears a tribute. Unseen ings.
to others, tothem, a dear worsljipper seemed Mrs.Mnrray folded her hands to ask the
present beside them. The athletic form, the blessing. She had borne up valiantly thus far.
suuny eye, the soft brown locks, the manly She had been true to her theories. She had
air, every line of the loved brother's face, every crucified her own feelings. She had checked
movement of his figure, every tone of his voice all outward expression. She bad made pies and
was present to them with a vividness like reality. been thankful, in spite of a sore and wounded
But one short year h.id passed since he stood heart. Now her lips quivered, and her voice
with his hand ou that pew-door, while tho trembled. She could trust not herself in the long
other held the very liymn-book on which Miss grace generally deemed fit for such festal days.
Miuty's tears were now drooping. She could only snl>stitute, "God help us, and
Yet midst of their sorrow, the monru- !"
in tlie make us thankful
ing sisters did not forget their cause for true Were those her own hands covering her two
thanksgiving. Their precious brother had early eyes? No! Thosehands were withdrawn, anil
set his foot upon the narrow way. To them two strong arms were round her neck, and a
his young lips had talked of the glories of the brown cheek was pressed close to hers.
Kingdom of Heaven. No word had come to " Mother dear mother
I Did you really be- 1

tell how he met the King of Terrors, yet were lieve I was dead ? And you tried to bear up
they sure tliat through the " grave and gate of bravely but I heard your voice tremble
; I !

death" he had passed to a good resurrection. did not know you loved me so I"
" Love you ! I love you like my own soul
Mehitable had not been at church not she 1 God be praised! You arc safe!" exclaimed
She had been thankful in the midst of the the mother.
blending odors of turkey boiled and roasted, The barriers were broken down tlie flood- ;

crisping pig (of the Elia pattern), and chickens gates were opened. The mother had thrown
broiling of a tender brown an atmosphere off the mask. Tlie true woman would speak
more suited to her taste than "sitting for two now and evermore.
mortal hours, penned up iu a meeting-house." w.%s a Thanksgiving Day indeed
Ah, that !

We use her own words. In that merry party none were more merry
It was not strange, since so powerful a magi- thau the youthful soldier. As for Minty and
cian had been at work, that Miss Miuty aud Molly, they were almost wild with joy. They
432 godey's lady's book and magazine.

left all other feasting to feast their eyes on that should remember He chastens us for our profit,
recovered treasure, and took more friendly that we may be partakers of holiness and in ;

liherties with their mother, and were more at the midst of our sorest afflictions, remember
ease than ever before in their mortal lives. that an all-wise Father who is laying His
it is

Nobody blamed the papers for reporting one rod upon us but let t/s, who are blessed with
;

soldier as dead, who had only been taken pri- kind parents, be doubly thankful to Him who
soner. The happy seldom find fault. It is the has spared them to us, and endeavor to do all
sour and discontented wlio always have a in our power to mitigate and soothe the griefs
" bone to pick with somebody," and, dog-like, of our fellow-creatures but, whether our path
;

growl over it. here below be smooth or rugged, let us recollect

Mehitable, long after this Thanksgiving Day, that if we serve Him faithfully in this world we
was wont say: "Miss Murray was right.
to shall at the last day receive a crown of glory
We ought to be thankful, and have our pies which fadeth not away; and "the sufferings
when the day comes round, no matter what of this present time are not worthy to be com-

happens. Suppose the Lieutenant should have pared with the glories which shall be revealed
come home and found no right sort of a dinner to us."

ready for him That would have been a pretty

!

'How d'ye do!'"

PURPOSE IN LIFE. I
In order to the accomplishment of any noble
THE ORPHAN. purpose, it is necessary to have a carefully-
There is much to call forth our most tender laid plan ; for a rambling and desultory appli-
pity in this word I A weary life must hers be. cation, even with a virtuous intent will prove
We, who know, and daily experience, the altogether inadequate.
blessed comfort of a kind father and mother, It is a poetical assertion that " life without

cannot enter into her feelings ; what a pang of a plan serves merely as a soil for discontent to
desolation must shoot through her heart when thrive in," and of the justness of this assertion
she thinks she is bereft of a mother's anxious the proofs abound. But if we would shrink
care,and a father's tender watchfulness no : from the idea of abandoning what was intended
bosom upon whom she can rest, no kind parent for agarden of fruitfulness and beauty, to the
to whom she can confide her daily troubles ; growth of rank and ungrateful weeds, we must
perhaps no sister into whose alfectionate ear lose no time, but begin at once to occupy the
she can pour forth her thoughts. Providence ground and lay down our plans.
has bereft her of all these earthly props and ; Some point in view, some fixed object of
sad it is, but alas too true, tliat there are
! pursuit, a spur to the energies, and where,
is

many who are thus let adrift on the ocean of that point in view is something re.ally great
life with not even one frienil to whom they can and good, the influence it exerts is sufiicient
flee in an hour of need and not even a fire-; to inspire courage, and sustain the concentra-
side they can call their own. Alone, the orphan tion of thepowers requisite for its attainment.
has to fight her way tlirough this weary world, And, more than this, the influence of that great
doubly wearisome to lier her path is ofttimes : and good object upon which the mental eye is
a very thorny one. She meets with no friend, fixed, imparts to life a zest and earnestness
no kindness, no sympathy The remembrance ! which those wlio pass an aimless existence can
of the past only increases her grief; and her neither understand nor appreciate. Yet this is
eyes fill with tears when she thinks of her no forced or fancied representation, but a plain
dear parents' admonition, and that the voice statement of the contrasts of character arising
which spoke so many gentle, warning words to from the presence or absence of an object, a
her is now hushed forever in the silence of the plan, a noble motive, and a high resolve. May
grave. we never want these, and then we may give
But, t^iough the orphan is bereft of all her melancholy complainings to the winds, for we
eartlily friends, she has a never-failing Friend shall find that life is too short ami too precious
above, who has promised to bo a Father to the to spare any part of it for anything but its

and that those who seek Him ear-

fatherles-;, important work.
nestly shall most certainly find Him. Many,
perhaps, in the bitterness of their grief, are apt
to think God has forgotten them ; but however God hears the heart without the words, but
inexplicable His dealings may appear, we he never hears the words without the heart.
 ; ; ; !

POETRY, 433

Ladles were there in rich attire, whose beauty matched

THE STOllY OF "FAIR MABEL." their dress.
And men of rank and high renown within the circle
BT BB ATA.
press.
Comb hither, little dmaghter mine, and near mo tako ihy
seat, But In one corner, quite alone, she saw what gtfimfd a
And koit npon thy father's hone while I my tale repeat man,
Of Mabel fair thou oft baiit heard, and marvt^Uod iu thy And near, and nearer bent her steps, the strange, great

heart thing to scan.

VThj my-itery and dark dismay made of her fate a part. An Ogre, 'twas ugly and grim the sight near made her
Non* I n-ill tell thee her short life, for tboa art hedles scream,
too, Though all did say the grand ladye held him in great
And erer prone to wander forth in search for something esteem.
new The guests she loved to entertain he never harmed at

'TwD^ tbns thy cousin loTod to roam, and household all!

dutiei* scorned. On thoewho entered without leave with tooth and nail
But girl^' had better stay at home, by wiser counsel he'd fall !

warned. When Mabel came beneath his eye she wished she were
at home
Xow pretty near to Mabel's house uprose a castle grand,
(But those who follow every whim will oft to mischief
The like was nowhere to be seen in all this prusperuus
come).
land ;

The mistress of this mansion fine bad foreign countries And now the ladye entered; was e'er such splendor
seen, seen ?

And g^athered in its spacious halls werpwondrons things All rose to do her homage, jiistthonjrh she were a queen ;

I ween ; At the first glance she saw a stranger in the crowd,

The tales of all these wondrous sights had reached the And calling her most kindly she praised her beauty
maiden's car, load
Aud that she might admittance gain she sought both far And graciously she smiled. "My pretty friend," she
and near. said,
" wish yon to see every gem that here is gathered."
I
It chanced one day an audience day the gate she open
!

Then to her strange attendant spoke, "This fair one, I

found.
presume,
And, pleased her wishes to obtain, she entered to look
round
Would like to see our wonders all take her through
;
every room.
IJnt scarce the portal had she cleared, when to her
The pictures and the flowers, show them to her, I pr.-y.
startled mind
The sweetest flower must yield to her, so sweet, so fresh,
A legend came she oft had heard the park was so de-
and gay !

signed
But, when you reach some quiet spot,'* she whispered
Tbat only whom the owner chose could tread the hidden
in his ear,
way.
All others might for
weeks or years disconsolately stray.
" Thf^ eat her up forI will have no interloper here."

{I wish thee to remember, child, the great are often

Bot daunted not, the maiden bold remembered one she
stern ;
knew,
Improve my story as it runs, and thus the moral learo.)
^^'ho for admittance to the house possessed the wished*
for clue. But how ho swallowed Mabel up, aud how she did im-
F.>rtune does often help the brave ; she scarce ten steps plore,
had turned. I cannot tell with certainly, we never saw her more
When Mabel saw the rery friend for whom her bosom Some say she was not harmed. The ladye kept her
yearned. there,
Courageously she told her need, and threaded the vast A pretty thing to look upon, for she was wondrous fair.
maze, Girls of sixteen are silly things, hot I may safely say
Delighted with the objects new tbat met her earnest Mab^l would gladly have been plain, could she get safe
gaze. away.
Bat though her father stormed the house and begged for
At length they gained the stately hall what wonders :
his dear child.
around
all !
The ladye answered not a word, she heard and only
Flowers from distant climes were here, fountains with
smiled.
tiukUDg sound The great
;
ball door was closely shut, the judge could
Statues and vases, works of art, are clustered without
not pass through.
end.
And when the Ogre walked abroad his teeth were bidden
And Mabel thanked orer again herkind, obliging friend.
too.
They reached at length the audience room, and what
looked grand before. ever be content, and e'er it be too late.
So, daughter,
Seemed but a dim reflected light from what the maiden True wisdom gather from the tale of Mabel's mournful
saw. fate.
Ilangings and mirrors blazed with gold, and scarce she Ogres are plenty iu the world, and beauty Ls a snare ;

dared to moTe, And fhould one praise thy rosy checks, thy long and
I^'st all should Ttnish from her sight, some rast dela- curling hair.
sioc proTe Then think npon thy cousin lost, and fliittery beware.


FRIENDSHIP ENDANGERED.
BT 8. ANSIE FROST.

(See Sted Plale.)

It was tlie scene and hour for confidence. Aunt Mary is the dearest little bit of a blue-
The hazy twiliglit of a damp, warm summer eyed angel that ever made a good man happy.
day was creeping in with its cooling breath at Rupert, their only child, is now about twenty-
the window of the ** girls' room," one of the three tall, rather handsome,
; with a noble
cosiest prettiest apartments that ever graced a stock of talents, a frank, generous nature, and
country-seat ; and near the window, seated one his father's kind love for all mankind. I come
in tliedeep arm-chair, the other on a pile of next. I am inaccurate in calling Mr. Loyd my
cushions on the floor, were the girls two as uncle, he is really not related to me. His
liright, sunny-faced, lovable specimens of the father married twice : Uncle George is the son
class as ever vowed eternal friendship, or ex- of the first wife. My grandmother was his
changed heart confidences. The one on the second wife, and was a widow with one child
Hoor, half sitting, half lying in her luxurious my
mother at the time she married Uncle
!iest ofcushions, was a graceful brunette, with George's father. have heard from members
I

large soft black eyes, and a profusion of the of the family of the devoted love between my A
darkest brown hair, just verging on black. mother and Uncle George and when I was ;

The other was a tall blonde, with soft golden left an orphan at six months old. Aunt Mary
tresses, and large blue eyes and to finish the ; took me to her heart and home, and I have
introduction indue form, the one in the chair never felt the loss of either parent."
was Miss Mena Lee the other. Miss Martha ;
" Then Mr. Loyd is in a measure your guar-
Harris. And now, having drawn up curtain, dian, as he is mine. He takes care of your
set the scene, and introduced the characters, property, does he not?"
let the latter speak for themselves. "Alieavy charge!" said Martha, laughing
"I am so glad you like our room," said heartily. "Why, Mena, two pennies would
Martha. " When auntie first told me you were outweigh all the property I have in the world,
coming, she was going to put you in the spare yet I have never had a wish ungratified, or a
room ; but I petitioned for
hero you to come in whim crossed. And now tell me about your-
with me, unless you objected very seriously." self."
"I could not be better pleased," was the "There is but little to tell. When my father
cordial reply. " I am a sad coward about died, he left Mr. Willis and Mr. Loyd my guar-
sleeping alone, though I have done so for years. dians, and they put me at a boarding-school.
I never had a sister, and my parents died when Last month Mr. Willis died, and Mr. Loyd
I was a wee baby." wrote to my teacher to send me here when my
"As mine did. We must be sisters to each term was over. That is all."
other, dear Mena." But as the evening came on tlie flow of talk
The fair-haired girl bent down, with an ear- became more earnest. Mr. and Mrs. Loyd had
nest look on her face, and a loving light in her gone into the city to transact some business,
eyes to seal the contract with a warm kiss and and were not expected home until morning,
embrace. and Rupert was away on a shooting excursion ;

" And now," said Martha, " let ns commence so there was nothing to break in on the long
our relationshij] by knowing something about conversation. As the twilight deepened, and
each other. I am the hostess ; so I will tell the night shadows trooped more thickly into
you my story first. As you came so unexpect- the room, Mena slid from lier chair to share
edly to-day to find me sole occupant of the pre- Martha's impromptu couch and so, locked in ;

mises, I you first of the people here.

will tell each other's arms, these two warm-hearted
Uncle George is an old gentleman who can be girls, full of loving impulses, with no thoughts

described in one word lovable. He has the to conceal, no secrets to restrain, opened their
kindest heart, the sweetest smile, the most hearts to each other. It was but a trifling re-
cheery voice, and the heartiest laugh I ever cord to repeat stories of school life, of glimpses

beard. I don't think he ever spoke a harsh into the great world of society, of favorite
word, or thought a hard judgment in his life. studies and pet authors, of dear delicious hours
4J4
 TRIENDSHIP ENDANGERED. 435

in conntry rambles, or blushing confessions at intelligence, the love of all. Uncle Georg*
attempted poetry, or " some time to be seen" insisted upon having from her lips the same
stories, suggested by this or that incident met title Martha gave him, and Aunt Mary claimed

on the highway of tlieir quiet lives. But little the same privilege.
for other ears to hear, but who is there that The days passed pleasantly in rambles, rides,
(Vnnot recall some hour of such entire confi- music, reading, and the thousand little devices
dences when dear hands clasped each other women always have ready in needlework to
fast, and the magnetism of entire friendship pass long summer days. The love that began
opened wide the portals of the heart. so auspiciously on the night of Mena's arrival,
Of course, in snch confidential chat, it was hut still drew her afl'ection to Martha to meet a
na'.ural for Martha to allude frequently to her
warm They were insepar.able sharing
return. ;

couin, Rupert Loyd, the companion of her

the same room, interested in the same pursuits ;

whole young life. From the hour when he

from the honr when they bade each other
had been allowed to make her a cradle of his " Good-moruing" till they slept, locked in e.ach
boyish arms, he had been her protector, brother, other's arms, their days were passed in sweet
companion, and nurse. His was the task to intercourse. There was sufiicient contrast in
guide her baby footsteps, his the hand to teach their dispositions to keep this love ever warm,
her later to control her horse, his arm her sup- and prevent any jar.
port in all arduous walks, his voice ever ready
Martha, active, energetic, and impulsive,
to sympathize in all her joys and sorrows, and
seemed the stronger nature of the two, and
with the earnest zeal of a sister for a dearly
took the lead in even their most trifling puT-
loved brother, she described his every grace
suits while the clinging fondness, the gentle
;

nU'l virtue, till Mena's full share of interest

was roused to see and admire this hero of Mar-
tha's affections.
The night had gone past its noon before the
young girls went to bed, and early morning
found them up, and sharing the pleasant labor
of making ready for Mr. and Mrs. Loyd's re-
submissiveness of Mena's character turned ever
to her stronger companion for guidance and
support.
They were in the parlor together, about two
weeks after Mena's arrival, with no light but
moon poured in at the open
the silver flood the

turn. The flower vases were to be refilled with window. Mena was at the piano, while Mar-
fre=h flowers, an estra dinner to be ordered, tha sat half hidden among the folds of the
and dessert prepared by Martha's nimble fin- window curtain. Mena was playing one of
gers, and a thousand little dainty devices con- Grebbman's Noctnmes, with a movement that
trived to make the house look cheerful and suited the hour. The notes trickled from her

homelike. Then fresh bright dresses and fingers' touch as water ripples over the stones
smooth hair, and the girls were ready for the in a brook, and rose and fell in waves of melody.

arrival of the host and hostess. They had been seated there for nearly an hour,
When Uncle George's kind cordial voice bade when Mena felt a pair of strong arms clasp her

her welcome, and Annt Mary gave her a gentle waist, and before she had time to cry out, a
motherly caress, and both poured out their moustache brushed her cheek, and a warm kiss
earnest, loving desire to have her made com- was printed on her lips. With quick indiguji-
fortable, Mena felt that she had indeed found tion she sprang to her feet, pushing the intruder

a home. Her soft eyes were full of grateful from her,, with a force her slight form seemed
tears as she shared with Martha the "good- scarcely capable of.

night" kiss of her kind hosts and the talk ;

" Why, Mattie, what 's the matter ?" The
tliiit night was full of the kindness of both hearty manly voice, half laughing, was full of
uncle and aunt. Martha's many stories of the surprise.
loving care that had made her home so pleas- " Mattie is here, Rupert."
ant since her infancy were readily credited, and He turned window, with a quick ges-
to the
Mena's first impressions were as enthusiastic ture ; but instantly returning, said " How :

and warm .as even the exacting love of Martha can I apologize ?"
could desire. " not necessary I see the error," said
It is ;

It was not until she had been domesticated Mena but her quick breathing and trembling
;

in ber new home for nearly a fortnight that figure showed how she had been startled.
M' -.la first saw Rupert.
During that time she "And this is Mena Lee, Rupert, my newly-
hnd been winning with her gentle loving man- found sister," said Martha.
ner, her sweet low voice, and ready yet modest " Mine then as well, if she can forgive my
VOL. LXVII. 35
 a

436 godey's lady's book and magazine.

rudeness," he said, exteuding Iiis baud to clasp his presence the sunshine of her life, his ap-
hers with a cordial pressure. proval her surest guide, his afl'ection her keenest
" Look out in future for the difference be- pleasure. With such brotherly intercourse as
tween fair hair and dark," Baid Martha, "and his, there came no thought of jealousy to either
Meua will no longer obtain my caresses." Meua or Martha both thought they regarded
;

"Where's mother?" him as a brother, and he as blindly thought

"The true hoy question I" said Mrs. Loyd they were to him dear sisters nothing more.
from the inner room that opened on the parlor.
" Jlother 's here, and father, too. Come in, Two years passed, with their ever-varying
all of you, and hear our runaway give an panorama of pleasure and pain, and then a cloud
account of his visit." gathered over this family, before so happy.
It was an account full of racy, sparkling in- Uncle George, the tender husband, the kind
terest. Stories of adventure by field and flood father and uncle, the placid gentleman, be-
ill search of game, all told with a lively grace came slowly yet fatally altered. He absented
that made the meanest words interesting. The himself from home
a whole day at a time
for
Uall, lithe rough dress suiting his
figure in the thing, as he had years before retired from active
late pursuits, graceful and animated, the dark business, that grew alarming as it became more
eyes flashing, the white teeth gleaming as the frequently repeated. lu the evening, returning
liaudsome mouth poured out its fund of words, from such absence, he was morose and some-
I
and the half-saucy, half-modest consciousness times even violent, angrily resenting any in-
of being the hero of his own tales, all made Ru- quiry as to his business, and checking instantly
pert very fascinating to the lonely orphan who any allusion to his absence. From looking
had never before been in familiar intercourse with impatience for pleasant evenings, the
with a gentleman her only idea of the sex
; family grew to dreading them as the time of
being confined to tiie white gloved youngsters restraint and fear. One night he did not re-
she had met at the boarding-school parties, or turn. After waiting until midnight, Rupert
the teachers of the institute. It was no wonder sought him in the city. His first inquiry was
she was pleased with this long-expected hero, and there
at the 'Office of his father's lawyer,
whose gentlemanly language and refined man- he found his father's corpse a suicide
There I

ners toned down his rough dress, and gave a was no time then for explanation the fatal ;

grace to his wildest story of adventure. news was to be carried home, the wife's wild
This was the first evening. grief soothed, the whole burden of comforter
All day, his holiday being over, Eupert was to the three mourning women resting ou Ru-
in town in a lawyer's office,where he was pert's hands. His must be the head to keep
junior partner; but in the evening he invari- clear for all arrangements, his the voice to
ably sought his sisters to, as he saiii, clear all direct, the mind to thrust out its own stunning
the cobwebs from his brain. Music, conversa- weight of paiu, and support the new burden of
tion, company made these evenings the pleasant responsibility.
hours of the day to both Mena and Martha ;
It was not until the funeral was over, and
but while to the latter they were but the re- the house restored to that dreary quiet that
suming of a regular routine, to the former they follows a great shock, that Eupert again went
were a delightful and dangerous novelty. to the lawyer's office.
Thinking nothing of such danger, without "My task," said the old man, kindly, "is
the most dist.ant idea of flirting, Rupert was to my life. I have known
the most painful one of
her a courteous, tender brother. As he treated and loved you from a boy, Eupert, and your
Martha, so h^ began to treat this new sister father was dear to me as a brother, yet I
and as one shared his thoughts, so the other,
;

too,soon became his confidante, sought for as
every new device for enjoyment came to his
mind, protected with the gentlest courtesy,
and made a centre for every kindness. Both
Eupert and Martha strove by every loving de-
vice to make the stranger feel her new residence
indeed a home.
Unknown to herself, unsuspected by her
must " He made a long, long pause while
the young man waited, not daring to break the
silence that was numbing him in its chilling
terror. " Your father, Eupert, about two years
ago, became interested in the new, absorbing
speculations in western lands, and against
my most earnest advice, plunged blindly into
buying on a scale his income would not jus-
tify. I did not know until the day he died that

companions, Mena was giving to Rupert the he had invested Miss Lee's money as well as
first love of her untried heart, learning to feel his own in this hazardous investment ; but he
 FRIES^DSniP EXDAXGEKED. 437

carae liere, mad with the intelligence that his too, to forget. Then and there, with his friend's
stock upou which he was building most san- encouraging voice in his ear, he wrote to Mena.
guine hopes was worthless. He confessed to She was sitting in the library, thinking over
ine his falsity as guai-dian, and declaring him- the sad events of the past few days, and trying
self unable to bear the shame and burden of to form some plan for her own Martha
future.
his sin, stabbed himself here at my side. Your was in her aunt's room, giving some directions
mother's property makes her independent, and about the mourning to be made, and trying to
vou have your profession your Cousin Martha ; rouse the widow from her apathy of sorrow.
willhave something from your mother's will, When the servant opened the door to hand
and no doubt a homo for life Miss Lee is beg- ; Mena the letter, she was thinking so intently
gared." of Rupert's grief and Rupert's loss that the
Rupert tried to speak, but his Toice was envelope directed in his hand seemed only
dioked, and his parched lips refused to make following out her train of thought. She opened
a sound. and read it.

" Rupert, I am going to take a liberty that One short week ago every chord of her heart
only your father's oldest friend may dare to would have thrilled with rapture at the pros-
take, when I advise you to marry Mena Lee." pect of being Rupert's wife but now the note ;

A cry of pain burst from Rupert's lips. chilled, half frightened her it was a cold, ;

"1 know," the old man said, and his voice formal offer of his hand, with but few words of
was tender as a woman's, "this sounds cruel affection, and those seemed forced. It was not

and abrupt so soon your great loss and

after even in the warm, brotherly style of his usual
my painful disclosures but I know, too, it; intercourse with her, and she sat, pained, won-
will be the dearest object of your life to keep dering, and full of vague sorrow, looking for-
your father's error a secret between you and ward with eyes full of sad, questioning wonder.
myself. When your Uncle John dies, you are "Mena!"
the heir to his property, and can replace Miss Martha was beside her, holding in her hand
Lee's. Until then, unless you support her, the envelope she had just thrown aside. For
she is peunyless." the first time in all their long intercourse the
" But she can live at home with my mother, friends met with the chill of restraint between
and I every penny at her feet."
will lay them.
" She would not accept it and your utmost ; " Mena, why does Rupert write to yon, when
efforts could not earn the income to which she he sees you constantly ? Mena " oh, the agony
is entitled. After she is your wife, you can of the tone " there is no new trouble ?"
!

tell her why she is poorer, and I leave yon to "No, no, Martha! Rupert wrote to" and
judge whether she is likely to love you less the forming of the words turned her vague
when she knows you have married a beggar
pain to pleasure " ask me to be his wife."
instead of an heiress." " To-day so soon ! His father scarcely cold
!

"But" in his grave Rupert 1" I

Rupert paused ; that confidence just on his Then, as the full sense of the words came
lips w,as too sacred to pass their portals. Sud- into her heart, then she, too, learned that her
denly, by the light of this new upon him,
call adopted cousin was dearer than a brother, that
he read truly his own heart he loved Martha ! she, too, loved him.

And she ah he dared not now think of the
I It was a bitter, bitter day. Rupert bowed
thousand little acts he would once have recalled down under the weight of his knowledge of his
as proofs th.at he did not love in vain. All her father's sin Martha vainly trying to make her
;

sweet confidence, her thousand winning ways, woman's pride cover her woman's love Mena, ;

might be but the outpouring of her sisterly
affection, they might mean He tore himself
shuddering from the thou<;ht.
He w.as young, enthusiastic, devotedly at-
tached to his father, with an affectionate broth-
erly love for Mena he was urged on by what
; come habitual between the girls were changed
seemed duty, the advice of the man second
only to his father in his heart, and by his own
keen sense of honor. What wonder then that
he perstiaded himself that he could learn to
lose (the very phrase mocked him) and learn,
with the keen intuition of love, reading the
. constraint of Rupert's redoubled attentions.
Three long weary months passed, and still
the cloud of restrainthung overall these young
hearts. The warm, loving words that had be-
for the commonplace sentences necessary be-
tween inmates of the same room and house,
while Mena grew daily more troubled and puz-
zled over Rupert's behavior.
She could find no fault. He was attentive
 "

438 godet's lady's book and magazine.

beyond the requirements of even a lover. Every burden to bear, I have no friend to whom I can
hour at liome was passed hy her side, while he go for a word of sympathy, no voice to comfort
avoided Martha as studiously as she avoided me."
him. Yet he was no joyous lover. Even his " What sorrow can you have ?" Martha's
father's death could not account for the gloom voice was cold and hard.
that grew every day deeper; the pale cheeks " Rupert and I have broken our engagement.
that were becoming so thin and wan the tone ; He does not love me he Mattie ! look up,
of sadness that marked even his tenderest he loves and I am breaking my own heart
i/om,

words to her. If he pressed his lips to hers it to give him to you."

was with the tender, self-reproachful pressure The ice barrier was broken. The fast pour-
of one craving pardon for some olTeuce, and his ing tears from Mena's eyes fell 'on Martha's I
caress was as protecting as it was loving. bosom as she was pressed closely to it, and
She was lying on the parlor sofa, half dozing, locked, as of old, fast in each other's arms again
when the enigma was solved. Mrs. Loyd was the young girls exchanged confidences. All the
in the inner room, reading, and Martha had story that Mena had heard she told Martha,
gone to her own room when Rupert came in. that she might know how loving and loyal,
" You are late, my son," his mother said, as how self-sacrificing and noble Rupert had been. f
he sat down on a low stool at her feet to caress She made no secret of her own love, only im-
her hand "the girls have gone to bed."
; ploring Martha to help her in her resolve to
" Never mind Let me be your boy to-
! conquer it.

came."
night, as before the girls Two years later, when Uncle John died, and
Mena lay still, half dozing. She could not Rupert replaced his father's violated trust,
escape except by passing through the room Mena returned from her position as teacher to
where the mother and son were seated, and again make her home with the sister she loved ;

she was slowly learning not to seek Rupert's the brother, for whom she had now the afiec-
presence. From some anxious questions Mrs. tion he craved, came back to the happiest
Loyd put to her son, some comment ou his home, the most loving couple, and the warmest
pallid face, some motherly pleading for confi- welcome that the world could produce.
dence, the whole story came from Rupert's
lips. He had learned that day that his mother
know of his father's sin before long, and
Bras*
I CAN'T AFFORD ITl
he had voluntarily undertaken to tell her all.

From that to his own part in the sad affair, his BY M. M. BARKETT.
own love, his more than suspicion of ilartha's, "IcAu'Tafl'orditl"
all came from overburdened heart to his
his " But, father, I 'U do without the new bonnet
mother's sympathizing ears, and to the invo- you promised me I can have my old one
;

luntary listener, who heard her heart's death- pressed, and it will do quite well, and

warrant from those pale impassioned lips. " You will have the new bonnet. As for the
The blow proved too much for the widow. Ladi/'s Book, it would just fill your head with
Before Mena could let Rupert know of her re- all sorts of folly, and my daughter would be-
solve to release him, she was called to assist in come another Florence Dieaway. No indeed !

caring for Mrs. Loyd, sinking rapidly into a I can't afibrd it."
dangerous state of prostration, from which she " But she don't take the Book never has
never rallied. taken it. It might put some ideas of taste
Again we see the friends in the room where into her head, if she would," was the thought
we were first introduced to them. The winter that passed through her mind.
winds are sweeping round the house, and in It was of no use to say anything more for ;

the place of the soft white raiment of summer
both wear deep mourning garments, and sat
far apart one near the window, the other by
the fire. Mena was the first to speak. Leav-
ing the seat near the window, she came to
Martha's side, and bent over her in the old
James Percy was, as one of the neighbors ex-
pressed it, " remarkably set in his way." He
had formed the opinion that all reading of
stories was a sin, and a fashion-plate an abomi-
nation.
Mary Percy was an only child years before,
;

caressing way. her mother had been laid to rest beneath the
"Mattie, we are drifting away from each wide-spreading branches of the willow. People
other day by day, till the old love is dying out called James Percy cold and proud they did ;

of OBr liearts, and now, when I have my hardest not see that his heart was ever filled with sor-

"

1 cax't afford it! 439

row for the early dead ; nor did they see the mind afraid that she might get extravagant
tears that dimmed his eyes, as his gaze rested notions of and that she wonld not be the
life,

on his daughter, while blie busied herself with same contented little housekeeper that she now
hoasehold duties. is. 1)0 you think there is no d.inger of this ?"
And there was the slightest trace of hesitation
"Mary has got her mother's eyes!" Mr. in his voice as he asked the question.
Percy had let fall and was wiping the
his hoe, " Its effects would be quite the opposite,
large drops from his forehead. " She 's got I feel assured," said Mrs. Lee. "My mother
her mother's eyes !" and his gaze was fixed on was one of the fii'st to subscribe for the Book,
the willow, whose long, sweeping branches and every volume since that time is now in my
touched the white marble, lie resumed his possession and you will not accuse me of
;

labor but there was a look of care upon his

; egotism, if I say that I am confident I should
face, aud he was eTidently debating some ques- never have been able to accomplish the amount
tion in his mind. At last, he said aloud, " No, of good which I have thus far, bnt for the in-
I can't afibrd it. There 's those horses of Nye's I fluence that it exerted upon me in my early
I must get them aud the payment on the
; d.ays indeed I cannot tell yon all th.at it has
;

south lot must be m.ide nest week, and the done for me. I have never offered to lend my
haxn wants a new roof, aud Book to Mary, as I do not think it right it ;

"Mr. Percy!" seems like defrauding the publisher, for man//

He started, for so intently was his mind oe- will not take a magazine while they can borrow,
cnpied with the thoughts that had just found aud, at the same time, the borrower has to read
expression in words, that he had not heard the with such h.aste, that half the beauties are
light footsteps of the lady who now stood by unappreciated, while the numerous receipts
his side. and various other valuable items are not read
" Mr. Percy, if you are not too busy, I would at all, or, at least, not remembered in once
like to say a few words to you about Mary." reading. I have uo doubt that, to Mary, with
Aud Mrs. Lee, the minister's wife, seated her- her good taste and nimble fingers, the Book
selfon the grass at the foot of the large maple would be invaluable.
tree, near which they were standing. James Percy smiled evidently the compli-
;

Mrs. Lee was a woman for whose opinion ment pleased him, for he felt that it was a just
James Percy had a high regard. She was a one.

practical Christian one who would not forget " Mary a spry little thing
is that 's a fact. ;

Uie everyday duties of life in endeavoring to
accomplish some doubtful or distant good.
** I am getting up a club for the Laili/'s Book,"
said Mrs. Lee, "and called at your house,
tliinking that Mary would like to subscribe
but she tells me you think you cannot allbrd '
it.'"
James Percy looked up with surprise. He
had always supposed that the Ladi/'s Book was
an "institution" expressly for young ladies
who wished to while away their time in light
reading, or lighter work hut his false notions
; her dress, although of the simplest materials,
were suddenly swept away like the mist of
morning. Before hira was a woman who stood
as the personification of all that was pure and
excellent, and this woman was getting up a
club for the book he so much despised. No
wonder he looked surprised. After a moment's
hesitation, however, ho said : room was appUijui, and "father's chair" had
" Well, times have been rather hard for me.
Just like her mother when I married her,
twenty years ago next Thanksgiving." Hi3
mind seemed to wander back to the old days
with strange pertinacity. " Well," he said, at
; last," I think you may put Mary's name on
your list." And thus was the prejudice of
James Percy conquered.
A year had passed away. Mary was busy
spreading the cloth for the evening repast.
There was a look of refinement about her, and
was made with care, and harmonized with her
complexion. A neat collar encircled her throat,
and her black silk apron, with its delicate
pockets, told of neatness and good taste. The
farm-house, had improved in many of its
too,
arrangements. The table-spread in the front
received a new cover a tidy was also added,
;

Ton know .Jameson ran away, and he was owing
me five hundred dollars, and there are conside-
rable many things to be bought for the farm,
and, the fact is, I wonld not mind the money
so much, but I was afraid of the effect on Mary's
and a lamp-mat had made its appearance. All
these improvements had been made without
neglect of other duties. Her father's favorite
dishes still appeared upon the table, better
prepared, as he had more than once said for ;

36*
 ; ; ! ;

440 godey's lady's book and magazine.

now sliti liad an unfailing guide in all cases of There are Xovembebs of the heart,
doubt, and could, therefore, economize both Where meiuories alone form part
Of actual being shapes that start,
;

time and materials.

And sounds that through the soul's realms dart
*'Mar7," said Mr. Percy, "is it not about
With premonitions of decay,
time Mrs, Lee was getting up her club for
And whose unerring echoes say
Godey's? I you had better send; in
tliiuk
Time, like the year, must end some day
fact I don't seehow we ever got along without Ere long death's curtain hides life's play.
it, I Ve been reckoning up some of the items
that it has saved me during the last year.
There 's that table-spread and lounge-cover
A DISCREET WIFE.
those should have had to buy those other
I ;

Theke is a large class of excellent female

*fixiu"s,' although not exactly necessaries, still
characters (observes Mrs. Hannali More) who,
are quite au improvement to the looks of a
on account of that very excellence, are little
room then
; I should certainly h^ve lost my known, because to be known is not their object.
best colt, but for that receipt for bruises. Well,
Their ambition has a better taste they pass
I am sure it has been worth more than a hun-
;

through life honored and respected in their own

dred dollars to me the past year, and hereafter
small, but not unimportant spheres, and ap-
I think lean afTord to take the Lady's Cook.' "
'

proved by Him, " whose they are, aud whom II

they serve," though their faces are hardly
known in promiscuous society. If they occa- _
TUE CASKET OF THE YEAR. sion little sensation abroad, they produce much B
BY WILLIE E. PABOa. happiness at home. These are the women who '
Pearl the Eleventh. J^^ovemher. bless, dignify, and truly adorn society. The
Where tlie brown squirrel stops aud peeps- painter, indeed, does not make his fortune by
Whore tbo field mouse id safety sleeps their sitting to him ; the jeweller is neither
Aad over stunted stubble heaps brought into vogue by furnishing their dia-
Aad down the wold Hovembeb sweeps
monds, nor undone by not being paid for them ;

The sound of dropping nuts is hnsbod ; the prosperity of the milliner does not depend
The late, last flowers lie drooped and crushed,
on affixing their name to a cap or a color ; the
Aud every face we meet is flushed
By the crisp breeze that o'er it rushed.
poet does not celebrate them ; the novelist
does not dedicate to them ; but they possess
And o^er the face of nature spreads
the aJTection of their husbands, the attachment
The hues that tell us how she treads
The worn pathway of time, and sheds of their children, the esteem of the wise and
Both shade and sunshine on our heads. good, and, above all, they possess His favor,
" whom to know is life eternal."
There was a time, tbere was a time
(Oh, sia^ it soft in sweetest rhymel) '*
A creature not too bright and good
When the bells rang a sweet Spring chime, For human nature's daily food ;

And the world was in its youthful prime.
There was an hour, there was an hour
(Oh, own the magic of its power !)
When roses decked each wood and bower,
And beauty graced the Summer's dower.
There was a day, there was a day
(Oh, twine it kindly in your lay 1)
When Nature's bosom, flush with grain,
Greeted the farmer's Autumn
Bat now the recompense is past
The fleeting year draws near at last
The goal so many reach, so fast
For simplo duties, playful wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.'*
ERRORS.
The little that we have seen of the world and
know of the history of mankind, teaches us to
look upon their errors in sorrow, not in anger.
rain. When we take the history of one poor heart
that sinned and suffered, and represent to our-
self the struggles and temptations it passed
through; the brief pulsation of joy the fever- ;

Already is its shadow cast

ish inquietude of hope aud fear the tears of ;

Upon Notembek's weary brow, regret the feebleness of purpose the deser-
; ;

Aod as we look, we ponder how

tion of friends ; the scorn of the world, that
We *vo seen the changing seasons bow,
has little charity ; the desolation of the soul's
But not with feelings such as now.
sanctuary, and threatening voices within
The sadness of the fading year
health gone ; happiness gone ; we would fain
Reflects the sadness of the sphere
Where mortals reign in constant fear, leave the erring soul of our fellow mau with
And borrow steals oa every chctr. Him from whose handa it came.
 ";

MRS. YINING'S "HELP."

A STORT FOn IIOCSEEEEPERS.
BY MAllY V. JASTRIX.

" What we are to do, I 'm sure I can't ima- go to-day, and I '11 hunt up another girl," and
gine Cousiu Fanny coming next week, and
I he set off for his place of business.
Luna taken down sick just at tlie time I need
Mrs. Vining one of the pattern housekeepers
her most 1" said Uelen Vining, iu a despairing
and most lenient of mistresses was correct in
tone', at tlie breakfast-table. her supposition regiirding her suddenly-ailing
" We must get another girl, that 's all, if help. The Xorwegian girl, who h.ad come to
Lena keep her place," replied the
isn't able to her perfectly untrained and uncouth, and uniler
hasbaud, pushing back his chair. her hands had been moulded into .an efficient

" Hut I dislike to take new help so at any maid-of-all-work, was destitute of that sense of
time, and especially just now, when Lena liad obligation which should have retained her
learned our ways, and had begun to be such a and, finding that the advent of company might
good girl; besides, I wanted most of my time probably bring to her additional duties, she
daring Fanny's visit, to go about with her and had cunningly feigned illness. And, supi-r-
show her some of the beauties of our western added thereto, possibly the persuasions of the
home, instead of spending it in the kitchen, "bean," to whom Master Freddy referred, a low-
inltiatiog a stolid Norwegian, as I must if I built, thick-set, flaxen-haired emigrant from
bsTe a new girl. Tou know I spent weeks their native North-land beyond the Oce.in, liad
over Lena, who was perfectly ignorant of oar decided her to resign her situation as subordi-
American method of housework when she came nate in another's home, and set up house-
to US." keeping on her own account in the little one
" I know
but these things can't be cured,
it ; story log shanty which Christian Newburger
and therefore must be endured iu housekeep- had built in the o.ik-opening on the borders of
ing, Uelen. Let Lena go .and I '11 hunt up a a fertile prairie country in southern Wisconsin.
new girl by to-morrow. As I go along to the So, upon receiving her wages and the accom-
store 1 'U order something for dinner that won't panying full discharge from the Vining cam-
keep you long in the kitchen to-day," said Mr. paign, the invaliil rose with wonderful alacrity
Vining, rising. from her bed, packed up the wooden chest
" But I 'm afraid, J.ames, that you '11 not find which had been transported in the emigrant
it so easy to obtain a new girl as you think," ship across the deep, and departed, leaving her
esclaimed his wife. " There seems to be a quondam mistress sole queen of the memije,
perfect dearth of help just now. I know half from parlor to pantry closet.
a dozen of onr friends who are without; and Let not the reader infer, from the disappoint-
only yesterday, Mrs. Doctor 'Webster and Mrs. ment with which Helen Vining lost her " help,
Vail were in, and spoke of their having been that that little lady was of the idle, inefficient,

deserted without any warning. I didn't dream or, as Aunt Ophelia hath it, "shiftless" class
Uten that / sUould be iu the s.ame situation to- of wives. Far from either was she ; for, in her
day myself. If Lena were really ill, I wouldn't distant, pleasant New Engl.and home, Helen
feel so ; but it 's only an ordinary cold, and I Scott had been trained by an excellent and
cannot prevail on her to take the simplest judicious motherin all the housewifely virtaes,
remedy for it. It 'a my opinion, James, that and when she accompanied her young husband
she finds we are expecting company, and so to their new home in the far West, she had
uses this excuse to get away from ns." expected to encounter privations, and h.nd met
"Ma, Lena can't be real sick, for her beau them bravely, in the pioneer town which was
was here in the kitchen last night, when I came then springing up on the borders of the wilder-
down after a drink of water !" np spoke Master ness but, as increasing size in the town
;

Freddy, a bright boy of five years. " I guess brought increasing business and, consequently,
she 's making b'lieve, and wants to play hokey, prosperity to Mr. Vining, while a troop of fair
like the children do from school." young children clustered round Helen's knee,
" Hush, Fred !" said Mr. Vining, repressing m.any changes crept into their household, and
a smile. Then, taming to his wife, "Let Lena additional "help"' found their way to the
MX
 442 godey's lady's book and magazine.

nursery and kitchen. Of late, however, three- forget that we have a family of sis, and one
year old Katy having retained her position as pair of hands aren't strongenough to do every-
" baby" in the domestic circle, and harum- thing. do hope James will be fortunate
I

scarnm, curly-headed, quick-tongued Fred hav- enough to find a good girl, to whom I sha'n't
ing been promoted to the dignity of his first be obliged to learn 'the rudiments.' Come,
suit from the tailor's,and his advent at the Katy, let 's go up stairs Bring dolly, tool"
I

school-room, the nursery-girl had been dis-
pensed with, and a stiVjug-armed maid-of-all
work had been considered sufBcient by the
thrifty Mrs. Vining to olEciate, under her su-
perintendence, in the domestic department.
But Norwegian Lena, fully
true spirit of the land of her adoption, scorned
the idea of remaining a private in the great
army "domestic help" when she could attain
of
the honors of a female Brigadier Generalship in
another department hence her resignation in
; lent scolding propensities are prone to do re-
the former, with the prospect of an immediate
promotion in the latter, leaving poor Mrs.
Vining alone, beleaguered by the contending
hosts of multifarious duties i^ressing hard upon
her.
Let us see how Helen Vining conducted her
Grasping the headless trunk of her mutilated
china doll, which had been the bosom com-
panion of Miss Katy by day and by night for
the past two weeks precisely, the child followed
her mother up stairs, tottering from parlor to
imbued with the bedrooms, and all the while chattering most
volubly in unintelligible baby-talk to her trea-
sure. But at last the baby voice rose to a
shriller tone, and the child began violently
shaking the headless trunk, as mothers of vio-
fractory children.
"Why, Katy, what's the matter?" asked
Mrs. Vining, in astonishment, pausing in her
task of dusting the parlor table. "Why do
you treat poor dolly in such a way?"
" Her won't mind her real naughty and
! I

campaign, and if "reinforcements" arrived. I whip her hard, and scold Nonveriian at her 1"
"Let me see," soliloquized Helen, after the was Katy's quick reply, again administering
elder children, Alice and Henry, respectively sound corporeal punishment all the while ;

of ten and seven years, and the curly-headed jabbering away in aludicrous mixture of jargon,
Freddy, had all been duly equipped and de- such as she fancied she had heard from the
parted for school, the mother returning to the departed Lena's lips.
breakfast-table, still standing as they had left With an amused smile, Helen pacified the
it
" let me see ; here I have, indeed, a fore- excited child whose precocious maternal cares
i

noon's work before me the dishes to wash up, so overwhelmed her. "There, there, Katy I

the house to put in order, and bread to set for that will do ! Perhaps
dolly hadn't lost her
if

baking Dear me, now why did I forget to

1 I head she could vnderstand better, and wouldn't
send Harry over to the brewery after the yeast ? be so naughty. Poor thing don't scold her I

and I can't go myself to leave Katy The ! any more. When Cousin Fanny comes, she
bread will have to go to-day I '11 send to the ; will dress a nice new dolly for Katy I"
bakery for loaves but let me see, I '11 manage
; An hour afterward Mrs. Vining stood at her
to find time to make a couple of loaves of nice kitchen table beating eggs vigorously, while
fruit-cake, if I can. I may not have any more Katy strenuously insisted upon helping, byA;
even if we should get a new
leisure to-morrow, every now and then surreptitiously inserting
girL Come, Katy, be a nice little girl, while her little hand into sugar bucket or fruit can.
mamma is busy !" Filled with visions of the n?w '
' dolly,
'
' nothing
Disposing a variety of toys upon the floor to could induce her to return to the old love,
amuse baby, Mrs. Vining turned back the which now lay, quite discarded, and henceforth
sleeves of her neat morning-wrapper, brought deemed utterly unworthy of Norwegian baby-
her little keeler of warm water, and dexterously scolding, upon the floor beside the table.
dispatched the breakfast-dishes afterwards ;
" When is Tuzzin Fanny turning, mamma ?"
regulating the pantry and china-closets, which she suddenly asked, pausing in the abstraction
wore a singularly untidy look that morning. of a huge lump of sugar and a sly pinch of
"Lena meant to leave !" ejaculated Helen, currants.
as she gazed at this evidence of the girl's care- "When my little girl leaves off eating things
lessness, "and she didn't care how she left me. that will make her sick to-morrow, perhaps !"
I won't have another Norwegian in my house, replied her mother. "Run away, now there 's ;

stupid and ungrateful things as they are ! I 'U Freddy, come from school I" as the little fellow,

do my cooking myself but there ! that 's out with a whoop and bound that would have done
of the question," she added, in a moment. "I credit to an original young Winnebago of the


MRS. VIXIXG S "UELP.' 4i3

Western State be iubabited, rusbed iiito tbe farther end of tbe town, and perhaps we could
room. hear of a girl there," suggested Mrs. Viuing.
" mamma, mamma ! I rcaded best of all, " Mrs. Doctor Webster said she should try
and any of tbe boys and
selled tbe ftillent of among them."
tlie teauber said so 1" was bis triumpbant " I 'U put an advertisement in tbe Chronicle
sbout, swinging bis cap aloft in triumpb to-morrow," said Mr. Viniug. "That will
" and now I want two pieces of bread and but- probably be tbe best course."
ter 1" suddenly descending, in tbis closing " So it will aud we shall have plenty of
;

request, from tbe exultations of genius to tbe applicants at our doors," was Helen's reply.
oraviugs of mundane nature. "I aloug a day or two very well, or
c.in get
'
Freddy, Tuzziu Fanny is turning to- even this week out, if Fanny don't come but ;

morrow, and is going to fetcb me a real nice next Monday will bring washing day, and I
dolly!" cried Katy, bounding to ber brother's hope we shall be supijlied before then !"
side, all aglow with tbe importance of ber com- The advertisement duly appeared in the
munication. " A'n't that nice I" morrow's weekly paper, and Mrs. Viniug pur-
"Dolls a'n't nothing !" scornfully remarked posely remained in doors for the two days fol-
Master Fred between bis mouthful of bread lowing, expecting applicants but, much to ;

and butter. " Maybe she '11 bring me a top, or ber surprise, none appeared. Friday came,
bat and ball, or a big drum !" and then, with and found her still without a single visitor cf
a toss of bis curly bead and a bound for tbe tbe class desired.
door, be vanished. "What are we to do, James?" asked Mrs.
With tbe dinner hour came Mr. Viuing, who Vining. " This is so unusual here in the West,
met bis wife's look of inquiry with the remark, where emigrants are constantly arriving. I did
" have had no leisure to look about for a girl
I talk the first of the week decidedly anti- Nor-
yet but, as I go down town again, I will call
; wegian ; but now, I honestly affirm that I should
at that Norwegian family's on Uigh Street, regard the advent of even tbe most untutored
which is a sort of general depot for them, aud specimen of the Slavonic race as a signal bless-
sea what the prospects are for securing one." ing. Here it is, about the end of the week,
How I wish there was an lutcUigeuce Office
'.'
and no prospect of a girl I"
here, where one could step in aud find a dozen " I bad a sort of an applicant to-day, at tbe
good girls in waiting But one can't find those
I store
one of my porter's asking the situation
outside of cities and we, in country towns,
; for a woman who was staying at his house,
are forced to take such help as we can get. I but who, unfortunately, bad a frowsy-beaded
only hope, though, that I may not have to boy of five or six years, from whom she wonM
tntor another raw girll" was Mrs. Vining's not be parted so her coming was out of the
;

oomment. question."
At supper, Mr. Viuing received his cup of "Of course," replied Helen; " but I do trust
fragrant tea from his wife's band, and sipped we may be fortunate enough to get help before
it with evident relish. to-morrow night !"
" This is tea !" he exclaimed, " quite unlike But Saturday came and passed, and Sunday
that which Lena used to brew. It tastes like also aud the advent of Monday that " rainy
;
that my good old mother used to serve up to spell" to housekeepers found tbe Vining
us as we gathered round tbe family table in tbe household still without any adjunct in the
good old Granite State." kitchen while in tbe wash-room figured tbe
;

" Lena was a good cook after being with me tall, muscular, nncrinolinedfigureofthe Widow
awhile but I never could learn ber that tea
; Frisbie, who made weekly peregrinations from
should not be boiled like herb drink," was house to house among sundry families in Prai-
Helen's rejoinder, rieville. All tbe long twelve hours, from 8
" By the way, I had poor luck to-day about A. M. till tbe bauds of the kitchen clock had
getting another girl," said ber husband. revolved through their cycle to tbe correspond-
" There Norwegian out of a place aud
isn't a ; ing figures at eve, did tbe quiet, faithful, but
they told me
it would be bard finding one
that dreadfully "slow" mistress of tbe wash-board
just at this time^as the harvest season is plod her weary round ; till, late at night, she
coming on, aud they are so used to out-of-door crowned ber straight figure with a long, deep-
work in their own country that theyprefergoing caped Shaker, and betook herself to her owu
out on our farms till after harvest is over." domicil.
" There are two or three Irish families at the Aud at tbe same evening hour Helen Viuing
 :

444 godet's lady's book and magazine.

emerged from her kitchen, whither she had you some 'right smart chance' of
say, hav'n't
descended for a "reconuoissance" after bestow- a western lawyer, judge, or professor picked
ing the children safely in their little beds, and out for me ? my tastes run to the professional,
seated herself at her piano witli a half sigh, you see. They say at home it 's quite time
mechanically taking up a sheet of music which Fan was married I"
lay upon the rack and repeating the apropos "Which 'they,' being interpreted, means
line from Longfellow's " Rainy Day" :
but one, in the third person, singular, who
"Some days must be dark and dreary." shall be 'spoken of by my own self, unless
Too weary to strike a note, Helen then threw you forestall me," retorted Helen, archly.
herself into her low rocker,and soliloquized " How is the health of my prospective cousin
" And the Widow Frisbie must be here all day Squire Etheridge ? Professional tastes, eh?"

to-morrow again Well, I realize the meaning

1
" How you know that is, what do you
did
of the command, 'Let Patience have its per- mean ?" stammered Fanny, stooping to caress
fect work,' whenever I hire her! I shall be Katy, and thereby veiling her handsome face
thankfnl when the ironing is over I wonder I
with her rich brown curls to hide her blushes.
" Oh, nothing in the world, my dear only
why Fanny stays so long in Chicago ?" ;

Next day brought a solution of Helen's ques- I 'm very gratefnl that you should have come
tion. Just at the mid-afternoon hour, when the out West to see us, prior to settling down in
elder children were at school, Katy taking a life. I can't imagine but one thing that would

sound nap iu her crib, Mrs. Vining iu her low have reconciled me to your not coming at pre-
rocker sewing busily, and the dame of the
sent and that would be, having you come in

smoothing-iron engaged in giving a fine polish the future with a compoynoii du voyage. But I
to sundry garments damp from the clothes- suppose you enjoyed your visit in Chicago ?"
" Oh yes I quite dissipated there. Saw all
basket, the depot coach stopped in front of the !

house, and a pretty, stylish figure, in a neat the sights, from the
performing elephants,
travelling costume, emerged therefrom. In Romeo and Juliet, to ebony contrabands fresh
another minute the cousins were in each other's from Dixie in gayest apparel met everybody, ;

arms. from the Michigan Avenuers, on their native

" Why, Helen, is this great boy yours ?" heaths, to German babies, fed, I am sure, on
asked Fanny Waterman, divesting herself of l.ager beer and sour krout, in the omnibuses ;

her travelliug-gear, and turning to meet Mas- inhaled all its from delectable attar
native air,

ter Freddy, who had just come home at recess. of roses at Grau's Italian opera to a cluster of

"And tliis girl, too?" as Katy awoke, and ap- wild violets plucked from the oak grove where
peared on the scene. sleeps the great departed statesman in his lone
" Wait till you see Harry and Alice," an- grave by Michigan's blue waters and now I

swered Helen, smiling, and adding: "You am come June time,

forget that, while you have been keeping your-
self a girl, I hav been married these eleven
years, and consider myself one of the pioneer
mothers of the West."
" Mei-ci!" cried Fanny, with a little French
grimace accompanying the phrase, "you make
to you, in this beautiful
to catch a glimpse of freer western life, and to
breathe the purer prairie winds that blow, un-
contaminated, across the mighty Father of
Waters. You see I 've not permitted my
powers of oratory to grow rusty," said Fanny,
closing her speech with a gay, laughing "say."

me feel old, Helen You are how old, ma

!
"The same as ever wild, witty, winsome !"
exclaimed Helen Vining " but, to descend
chere cousine, if I may be pardoned the query ?" ;

"Twenty-nine, Fan; and Just three years from the sublime to the ridiculous, you behold
your senior, you know," answered Mrs. Vining, me, on your first visit to the West, in a posi-
with a laugh. tively unpleasant dilemma. We are in great
" Which makes me just twenty-six, and past trouble, Fanny our girl has gone, and I know
:

the first corner by a full twelve-month. I not where to find another."

wonder if any crow's-feet have got into my "Oh, is that all !" gayly answered Fanny.
temples, Helen?" And she advanced to the "'Great trouble!' Why, I thought all the
nairror, into which she gazed with an aflectation children had got the measles, or James had
of earnestness. "And will they take me for failed up stolen a store full of goods been
one decidedly pass^e out here in this great, arrested by the sheriff, or something ! No
young, growing country of the West ? Say girl ! that very slight foundation for doraestio
's

Helen, that 's a western word, you see, and misery. How long have you been laboring
I 've got say' at my ^ongue's end already
' under this calamitous infliction, Helen?"


MRS. TIXIXG S "HELP. 445

" For the space of jast a, week to-morrow." or a sound of tliu ocean breakers thundering
" Ah ! that accounts for your careworu look along the sands of Hampton Beach this hot
ou my first arrival hair slightly gray
I noticcil ; June afternoon. It is not often that I get a
round your temples, and wrinkled brow But ! homesick spell, for I like this great, growing
now, reijuiescat in pace ! You shall see pre- western country as well to-day as I did when
sently what famous puddings, pies, and genu- I sought it ten years ago and yet I believe ;

ine Xew England doughnuts /can improvise that I shall some time go East again to settle
and, by the way, I hav'n't eaten one of the down. And as for Helen, I suppose that the
last named edibles since leaving home. Q'o very thought of going home one day to live
be sure, at a way station in New York State, would .set her crazy with delight" turning to
on my journey out, my escort left his seat and his wife.
presently returned with two immense speci- " Try me, .and see. I think my sanity would
mens of this article of food, carefully folded in stand the test!" was her reply. "I like the
a large sheet of wrapping-paper, which bore West quite as well .as you, James."
about the same relation to the Simon pure as "Oh, I had an answer to the advertisement
Barnum's fat woman does to Tom Thumb. to-day!" he said, suddenly. "Fanny's com-
'
What are these ?' I asked, as we settled our- ing .almost drove it from my mind."
selves to our lunch. '
I bought them for dough- " Did you ? I hope you succeeded Is she I

nuts ; but I thought I h.-id secured a barrel of Norwegian?" asked Helen, eagerly.
flour,' was his reply. And we positively nibbled " No an ebony lady from Dixie in other
; :

aw.ay at those two doughnuts all the remu.int words, a contraband just from Memphis, who
of the journey through York State I I can see sports the gayest turban, and professes a know-
now the philosophy of the flour manufacture ledge of cooking, w.ashiug, and ironing, she
being centred in York State." having been a house-servant. She said she
" How
opportune that you carae to us now. wanted a situation somebody .told her I had
Fan exclaimed Helen, recovering her breath
!" advertised and I bade her call round to see
from laughter at Fanny's amusing rendition of you this evening. So if you like her, you 'd
her luncheon on the rail. better engage her."
"Y'es, Indeed! I had a sort of warning that I "Black are usually the best cooks," said
should find my sphere here in the far West and ; Helen " and a great many of these coutr,abands
;

am delighted to know that it is that of commis- are hiring out in the North. I shall probably

sary general. On the streets of Chicago
April, I heard a good old
" Wa'al, let the rain come now I 've got my
wheat in !" But little did I suppose then th.it
said wheat was to furnish me the staple of my
occupation here in Prairieville. Oh, I expect
last take her. " And regarding the thing as settled,
farmer remark, she led the way up to the parlor, feeling as if
a great load had been lifted from her shoulders.
But Vhomme proposes, and le Dieu disposes.
Tlie evening passed,and the turbaned contra-
band did not m.ake her appearance an<l next ;

to revel in goodies out here, Helen fresh I morning it appeared that she had departed ou
strawberries, picked by my own taper fingers, the early train for the great Queen City, to
and all that sort of thing and then I have a ; congregate with the hundreds of her race whom
fancy for sleeping under the shadow of prairie- the turmoil of the war had cast up there.
rose vines to dream of prairie wolves, gophirs, The crowded city invited ; and sable, gay-tnr-
quails, snipes, and similar do-
tnrtle-doves, baned Cressy could not limit her ambitious
mestic creatures, who, they tell me, do get up ideas to a residence in the comparative quiet
musical entertainments in your country." of Prairieville. And, doubtless, to this day
" All which expectations, I trust, will be ful- neat-handed Cressy flourishes the duster or
filled," said Helen. presides in the kitchen of a palatial mansion on
An hour or two Later the family gathered "the Avenne" in conmiou with her ebony
around the table in the cool dining-room and ; sistersand brothers.
Mr. Vining and Fanny Waterman, between " Jlisfoitunes never come singly;" nor did
the pauses of their tea-drinking, exh.ansted the disappointments at this juncture to Helen
topics of queries and answers concerning dear Vining. next claimant for the position of
Tlie
friends in the far-off Eastern States. housemaid appeared in the person of Bridget
" It really sets me longing for the old familiar O'Shannessey
a middle-aged, sour-visaged
facesand pLices to meet one from home," said daughter of Erin, who faithfully stipulated to
James Vining, earnestly. " I would give a take her place in the kitchen on the ensuing
good deal for a glimpse of the old Granite Hills, llond.ay morning, and there perform her duties


446 gobet's lady's booe and magazine.

for the sum of fourteen shillings per week. That evening Mrs. Vining made it convenient
Bnt, alas I for the veracity of the Milesian todrop in at Mrs. Vail's, and soon had an in-
lady Monday moniing came round break-
I ; terview with the desired "help."
fastwas over; a large boiler of water steamed At first sight, Helen was not favorably im-
over the wash-room fire, and the week's wash pressed. The girl's attire was quite too d la
awaited the coming of Bridget. But nine ten mode for her condition ; and her whole bearing
o'clock arrived, and no Bridget but in her ; and mien savored too strongly of that manner
stead one of those convenient cousins, with whose mildest description is "independent,"
whom the daughters of Erin are always blessed, but which a lover of the plain English would
who brought the tidings that, "An' sure Brid- have denominated "impudent."
get was taken on a suddint with the sore eyes, " She will never suit me," said Mrs. Vining,
an' it wasn't she that would be able to do the mentally but a thought of the deserted kitchen
;

worruk at all an' sure it 's sorry she was ; but at home decided her to proceed in questioning
the matther of it couldn't be helped, and Mrs. her. "You are out of a place, I hear?" was
Vining could be afther getting another girrul." her preliminary remark.
"Provoking!" exclaimed Mrs. Vining, as " Yes 'm though I might have stayed where
;

she turned away from the messenger. "Her I was, only the work didn't suit me !" replied

ei/fs, indeed In my opinion, she don't want

I the descendant of Thor and Woden, with a toss
to live wliere there are children she was so : of her tow head. was evident that a residence
It

particular in her inquiries as to bow many I of six years in America had produced their in-
had. If I had only known of this earlier ! doctrinating efiect of " equal rights" and genu-
Well, I must send ronud again to-night for Mrs. ine democr.acy."
Frisbie, and try and get her for to-morrow and " Perhaps mine might have the same result,"'
Wednesday." said Mrs. Vining, with a quiet dash of sarcasm.
But this time the role of the washerwoman's "Ma'am?" was the query, in a tone that
engagements was completed up to Friday and showed that this remark was hardly understood
&:iturday no other could be obtained hence
; ; meaning.
in its full
Mrs. Vining was forced to wait the turning of "I amin need of a good girl," pursued
the wheel of events, and Saturday niglit came Helen, unheeding her. " What wages have
round ere she again looked upon a settled you had ?"
household. Meantime, it is almost needless to " Fourteen ma'am bnt
shillings, always, ;

chronicle, that, when her Cousin Helen was nobody now under two dollars.
hires out {
engaged in the culinary department, Fanny Things is riz these war times, ma'am. I can't
Waterman kept good her threat of entering the work for less than two dollars in America."
commissary line and very pleasant were the
; Another glance at the gay, flounced valentia _
morning chats that mingled with the beating of skirt, and the braided Garibaldi' convinced l|
'

eggs, the mixing of ingredients, and the vari- Helen that the sixteen shillings per week were
ous duties with which they busied themselves ;
quite necessary for the supplying of the Nor-
while their evenings were given over to social wegian girl's was the girl's
wardrobe ; but it ^
visiting, mmlc, or drives along the broad streets manner more than anything which she Bi else to
bordered with green cottonwoods, locusts, and felt aversion. She did not make any remark
oaks, or out on the wide-stretching, grassy for a moment or two from which fact the girl,
;

])rairies that skirted the town on every side.
Again the Star of Hope uprose over Mrs.
Viuing's kitchen. This time it was in the
shape of another flaxen-liaired daughter of the
laud of Vikings and Sagas, recommended by
Mrs. Vail as the sister of the girl she had re-
cently obtained.
" She has been over these five or six years
and, of course, must be excellent help now
very difiierent from a fresh girl. I saw her
last evening, when she came to visit Anna, and
spoke of you as needing a girl and, 1 think, if
you will call round on me this evening, you
may find her at onr house. To-day she has
gone out into the country."
evidently deeming her position secure, and the
lady's necessity her opportunity, took up in
her turn the inquisitorial cue.
" Is your house convenient, ma'am ?"
" Quite so. It has never troubled me much,"
answered Mrs. Vining, amused at the girl's
thorough assurance.
;
" Have you good cistern water handj' for the
washing, ma'am?"
" Close by the back door," was the answer.
"Do you have plenty of milk? I like new
; milk, and always drank a good deal in Nor-
way."
"Wo keep a cow. My children are foud of
milk, too," said the lady, quietly.
 ;

MRS. VIXING'3 "help." 4-47

" IIow moncli childrens have yon, ma'.ini ?" Mrs. Webster and you, too," said Helen, going
Ami, with this qufslion, c.itne the re.-lizing up to her parlor to communicate the intelligence
sense tliat the Norwegi.in hud an onthtok for to Cousin Fanny, whom she found deeply ab-
sundry small garments for weekly launilrying. sorbed in some specimens of fossils sent in for
" Four," was the imperturbable answer. her acceptance by the Geological Professor at
" Bailies, raa'aii) ?" the Prairioville College.
"Our youngest is three," said Helen, be- " I think I 'm on the trail of a good girl now,
ginning to bite her lips and curb her impatience Fanny!" she exclaimed, exultingly. "Out
for she was growing to thoroughly dislike the on Coon Creek. James must have the horses
girl's cool, nonchalant repertoire of inqniries. harnessed, and take us out there to-night."
"Then you are six in family, Mrs. Wining?" " '
Coon Creek' soil, alluvial deposit car-
And the Norwegian rendition of Helen's sur- boniferous formation bed, washed by clear

name came with a full, .aspirated breath. waters underlying strata, the product of cen-
"Seven, just now," said Helen, with quiet turies stones tracks in stone other
cl.ay

malice. " At present I have a visitor stopping fossils. Helen, I 'm quite geology-
Really,
with me." mail ; you are treeing this kitchen
.and while
" Do yon have mooch company, ma'am ?" goddess on the banks of the creek, I '11 be fully
continued the girl, with stolid, imperturbable occupied in taking an inventory of the features
insolence. of tlie country." And again Fanny turned to
Helen's " As a general
moment had come. her fossils.

rule, no ; yon should live with me, ijou

and, if At the tea-t.able the expedition to Coon Creek
wouldn't have much, either. But I don't w.as broached to Helen's husband. "The ride
think yon would suit me .at all," she said, would be too long for to-night," be said " we ;

with dignified, sarcastic manner, then quietly should not reach there before dark but to- ;

turned aw.ay, leaving the disappointed Viking's morrow morning we will take the children in
d.iughter to carry her wares of kitchen accom- the great carryall, and go in genuine western
plishments to some other market. style for Fanny's edification. I want her to see
" She would never do for my family at all, all these classic localities by daylight."
Mrs. Vail !" said Helen. " I know we couldn't With the following d.ay came the projected
keep her a week, so I wouldn't engage lier. I expedition. A large carriage, drawn by two
like the appearance of her sister, your girl, far spirited horses in stout harnesses, bore the
better. So I must be resigned and wait, like party through the streets of Prairieville and
Micawber, for something to turn up.' " '
out over the broad undulating ridges of land
The next d.ay's sun revolved somewhat more that stretched aw.ay due west. To Fanny, it
auspiciously for Mrs. Vining. " Old Sauty" was a delicious, exhilarating drive. "The in-
so-called by the children of Pr.airieville, which cense of the dewy-breathing morn" was on tliu
corruption of name was very naturally derived air; a thousand songsters the scarlet-winged
from the cognomen bestowed by their fathers blackbird, the golden robin, the field-swallows,
upon the one-limbed individual who came and fluttered and screamed around and overhead ;

went among their back yards in the occupation quail, snipe, and wonderfuUy-t.ame prairie-
of wood-sawyer, more peaceful avocation than chickens hopped close to the carriage-wheels
that his illustrious warlike antitype once flour- and under the horses' feet then, when appar- ;

ished in ere he betook himself to his retreat in ently within hand's touch, darted aw.ay. And
smiling Cuba
"Old Sauty," coming in from all the while the carriage rolled on over the

his labor upon a load of hickory at Mr. Vining's, softgrassy prairie, studded with gayest flowers,
communicated a bit of intelligence. golden buttercups, crimson Indian warriors on
" I was over to Doc. Webster's yesterday their long, pensile stems, and a few large, late
asawin', and heern Mis Webster say she seen violets, looking up with blue wonder-eyes from
a notice in the paper as how your people wanted their clustering companionship on some low,
a g.al ter work, and she must git time ter cum damp spot of black prairie soil.
over to your place ter tell ye of one she 'd And when they struck a swift-flowing stream,
heem on. Sez I, Mis Webster, ye kin send
'
gliding rapidly on, with a rushing sound, as all

yer arrant by me to-morrow ;' and so she said western waters do, down in the "river bot-
'twas a Wisconsin gal, that lived with lier own toms," belted by rows of green willows and the

people out on Coon Creek a right smart sight dancing-leaved poplar, the grass took on a
better nor a Norwegian, he reckoned " deeper emerald richness ; the meadow-lark,
"Thank you, Santy. I 'm much obliged to startled from her nest bv the horses' hoofs,
VOL. LXVII. 36
448 godey's lady's book and magazine.

soaredup with a quick cry ; the partridge's " My old man don't git hold of apaper oftener 'an
drumming was heard from out the wood ; and once a week, aud news is mighty scarce out on

the plaintive cry of tlie moauiug turtledove re- the bottoms here. We 're both strong Union,
sounded on the air. 'Siah and I tho' I make him purty riled when
;

It was an experience never be forgotten by to he says he wishes we had some boys to send

Fanny Waterman that ride across the western off to do some of the fighting, by saying it
prairies and the soft green richness of the
; saves us a heap of worryment to think we
soil, the delicious bine of the cloudless sky, the ain't."
triumphant jubilate of bird-music, the blending " No, my good woman. I 'm sorry to say
of light and shade, and the loneliness of this that piece of good news isn't confirmed yet.
region, far away from the city's turmoil or the But we must be driving. You think your
bustling town, all combined to form a fair pic- daughter will come to us without fail ?" asked
ture to be hung away in memory's gallery. Mr. Vining.
But the Ideal may not always hold us, and " Yes, Marier shall come !" was the decisive
the Actual soon rose to our party's view. A answer, followed by the stipulation for said
little, log-built, one-story hut upon Coon Creek " Marier's" wages. " Mr. Hopkins, one of our
appeared in sight and thither Mr. Vining
; neighbors, he 's going into town to-morrow
turned his horses' heads. Long ere the carriage after some lumber and he '11 take Marier
;

paused, a half score of frowsy heads protruded along. I reckon you 'U like heralieap; she 's
from the doorway and then, after a brief re-
; a right handy gal about house, and '11 take
connoissance, were as suddenly withdrawn, to powerful care of the children, being as she '3
be replaced by the comfortable figure of a been brought up with sich a pile on 'em.
matronly woman, who came out to receive the Good-day."
strangers. Pausing a little to quaff a drink from the
The errand of the visitors made known, Mrs. pure sparkling water which Fanny declared
Beals for such was her name returned an- she must taste, since it flowed through a bed I
swer. of limestone our party again reiterated their
"Oh, you want to hire a gal ? Wa'al, Ma- parting salutes, and left Mrs. Beals and her
rier ain't home ter-day she's gone over to : "nine small children" to the silence of Nature
the neighbor's t'other side of the bottoms ; hut and Goon Creek bottoms, arriving at home
I reckon she 'd take the chance of going inter with sharpened appetites for dinner.
town ter hire out a spell. She ain't lived out " Say, ma, I 'm glad Maria Beals is coming
mnch Marier's only seventeen yet; and my to work for us to-morrow!" said Master Fred
olil man, lie kinder don't like the idear of any that night, as his curly head sunk on his pil-
of our people workin' out. 'Slab's got a heap low ; and then he broke out, in his juvenile
of pride and independence too much, I tells glee :~
him, for folks as ain't cleared the mortgages *
It mast be now de klDgdom comiDg,
off of their farms ; but, you see, Marier 's Aod de year of jubilow."
gettin' to like new gowns and finery, and I The morrow ushered in the Beals dynasty.
tells her she must cut fodder for herself." A long, lumbering, farmer's wagon set down
" You have several children besides Maria," " Marier" and two bandboxes at Mrs. Vining's.
ventured Mrs. Vining an assertion corrobo- ; Said bandboxes containing her wardrobe, aside
rated strongly by the flax-headed troop that from the bright pink calico and the Shaker
were peeping from the doorway and the one bonnet she wore. " Marier" was a stout, good-
front window of the cabin. natured looking girl, remark.ably avoirdupois
"Lor' yes, a pile on 'em! Ten in all, and in dimensions, and with a certain slow, heavy
Marier 's the oldest. I tells 'Siah I hopes the kind of tread that would have done credit to
wheat crop will turn out good this year. They an emigrant wagon rolling across the Plains,
are all purty young. Now, there 're our neigh- Californiaward. At first glance it was evident
bors bey.and the creek they hain't but three that, though she might be ever so willing, it
sons, and they 're all out fighting the enemy. was doubtful whether she possessed the quali-
I thanks the Lord mine is mostly gals in these ties of a good, trained domestic.
times !" " I shall want you to do the plain cooking,
"Not very patriotic, eh, Fanny?" said Mr. and the washing, ironing, and sweeping, Maria.
Vining, soUo voce, My pastry and cake I always make myself.
" What 's the war news, Mister Vining? Is Do you understand cooking meats?" asked
Vicksburg took yet?" now asked Mrs. Beals. Mrs. Vining.


MRS. VIKING'S "HELP." 449

" O yes 'm 1" answered " Marier," with ready "Well, of one thing I am very certain,"
tongue. Laughed Helen Vining, "and that is, that all
"I donbt her cap:icUie3 very much," said the bread she has served up to us since she came
Helen to Fanny. "But stie is young, and I has been either heavy as our alluvial soil, or
can train her. And thi-n I tliink a good deal veined with regular stratas of soda while our ;

of liaving a girl kind to the childreu when I eggs and steaks are perfect fossils iu hardness.
want to go out and leave them." I think I '11 send some specimens up to the
liut how vain are the best laid plains ! Under College for the cabinet. But may the Fates
" Marier's" sway everything went astray in bless me with a good girl before many weeks
Helen's household. The cbllee was thick and more have passed!"
muddy the tea was steeped to inky blackness
; ;
And Helen's prayer was answered. The
the vegetables were overdone or water-soaked ;
overruling deities who sit above the presiding
the bread was heavy and the meats, which she ; Lares and Penates of the household, directed
had proclaimed her knowledge of cooking, were a new order of things to supervene. By the
unfit for mastication while china-uloset and ; merest accident, Mr. Viuing heard of a capable,
pantry partook of the elements of discord. faithful, and experienced American girl, who
"How is this, Maria?" asked Mrs. Vining, was seeking a place and, without delay, he
;

one morning as they came to breakfast, and engaged her, and sent her to his house. At
the dish of steak was set upon the table. the first interview, Helen felt assured that she
" Hav'n't I repeatedly told you not to cook had at last secured a treasure iu the new-
steak too much ; and yet you always serve it comer and now turned her attention to the
;

in this manner ! Really, Maria, you must not disposal of the incumbering occupant of the
bring us anything like this again !" kitchen. But this affair was taken out of her
Hut the obtuse seemed utterly regardless
girl hands by the very opportune arrival of Maria's
of directions. An ever-ready
" Yes 'm" was on father ; who came into Prairieville in hot haste
her tongue hut still she pursued the even
; to recall his daughter.
tenor of her way, serving up overdone meats " The children are took sick some on 'em
and underdone bread, till Helen was fain to and the old lady, she ain't very smart herself,
spend a greater part of each morning in the and we can't git along without Marier Sorry !

kitchen in the performance of the culinary to disappint you, Mrs. Vining but yon see ;

duties. Marier 's powerfully handy round the house,

" If I could only teach Maria anything I" was and harvest is comin' on, and we shall have a
her comment, in a tone of combined annoyance heap of work to do this hot weather."
and mirth. " But she is so obtuse No way ! And so the two bandboxes were duly packed ;

tractable ! Why, we shall all have dyspepsia the pink calico, and the new hat trimmed with
if she remains a month longer. I must find bright pink roses, and a white blonde veil were
another girl Even if she proved useful with
! quickly donned, and "Marier" received the
the children, I should feel encouraged but I ; balance of her wages, mounted the long lumber
find she takes quite too powerful care of them, wagon, and accompanied her father homeward
for,so sure as I leave Katy alone ten minutes over the prairie toward the river bottoms.
with her, she comes up, crying that Maria ' " I feel as if all the Coon Creek country was
hurts her.' And yet I don't think she intends offmy shoulders, now I have got rid of that
to harm Katy ; but the fact is, she is so pon- unwieldy Maria!" said Mrs. Vining; while
derous and unwieldy in her movements that, Master Freddy just then made his appearance
when she, good-naturedly, attempts to amuse from the morning session of school, singing,
her, she is sure to either stumble over her or with all the strength of his lungs, " The battle-
push her down." cry of Freedom."
" Which facts, viewed in the light of geolo- K perhaps seems needless to chronicle that,
pical discoveries, confirm the supposition that after this, the tide of domestic affairs ran
".Marier" of Coon Creek is an undoubted de- smoothly with Helen Vining. The new girl
scendant of the race of mastodons, who, at an proved all that she claimed to be good, healthy ;

aQtedHuvi.an age, inhabited these western re- viands were served at table order and system
;

gions bordering on the Mississippi; and who, reigned in the household and Helen found
;

stalking abroad in ponderous majesty, crushed abund.ant leisure, aside from her customary
out all creatures of a lesser growth. Another home duties, to contribute to the enjoyment of
important item for my journal," said Fanny the remnant of her cousin's visit.

Waterman, with great gravity. Several weeks passed delightfully to Fanny



450 godey's lady's book and magazine.

Waterman, during which she met cultivated stead, he is to devote himself purely to a
]ieople, and visited interesting and pleasant religious life. If there were no tares with the
localities and when the autumn brought her
; wheat, no bad fish in the net, if the church
agaiu to her eastern home, she bore thither were made up of true and faithful Christians,
flagrant memories of the young, vigorous, and then might the minister pray, and preach, and
large hearted West. visit the poor and afflicted, without one care

A few mouths later, perusing a letter which for his worldly substance. Willing hands would
bore the distaut Prairieville post-mark, she provide for him food and raiment the rich ;

smiled at a sentence which followed Helen would cast in of their abundance, and the poor
Viniug's congratulations on her approaching of their poverty glad offerings to him who
marriage with Dana Etheridge " I hope. Fan, : stands in the place of his Divine Master, the
when you come to housekeepiug, you will be Maker aud Giver of all.
spared such experiences with 'help' as / had This not the real state of things, as we
is

at the time of your visit West." every one of us know we to our shame, and
our pastor, probably, to his sorrow.
Say what you will about the large salaries of
WIDOWS: PART the few city clergymen, the parish priest is
VII.
nevertheless the poor man among us. The
MINISTEKS' WIDOWS.
talent and- worth which give the city minister
Servant of God, well done !

his position, would enable him in any other

Thy glorious warfare's past,
The battle 's fought, the race won.
is
calling to be adding thousands
thousands in to
And thou art crowned at last. Weblet. an ever-increasing capital, to belong to him and
his heirs, without dependence on the good-will
The Church shall guard thy little ones,
Thy wife shall be her care ;
or pleasure of any number of men women.
or
Once thou for us didst labor here. That he is only a salaried man, ishim a to
We now thy burden bear. great worldly sacrifice ;
put that salary at what
Happen any church yon choose on a
into figure you please.
Sunday morning, and you will find the mass of As to the country minister, we need no words
the assembly people who have come together in which to explain his position. We all un-
for any purpose under heaven but to worship derstand it A gentleman by education
too well.
reverently, hear humbly, and theu go their and one who is expected to wear a
feeling,
way to do good deeds. It is a strange institu- reproachless black coat, and to have his hands
tion (as the boys say) that men who do not free from the brown, stubby traces of hard
seem to care a straw for religion, as far as their work, he has yet to live upon less than the
own practice is concerned, yet feel it a necessity income any thriving meclianic, or active
of
to have a man to pray for them and preach to counter-clerk. If he have a family, how on
them, and a suitable place in which these offices earth is he to provide them even with home-
may be publicly performed. They make a spun, aud bread and butter f Let the author
sort of compromise with conscience by sitting of "Sunny Side" answer this question in its
week by week in a building where somebody length and breadth.
offers the prayers that ought to come from their There is a sunny side to our hitherto sombre
own hearts, and then makes an effort to wake picture. The sacred profession is not with us
their sleepy old souls to the solemn realities of a mere calling. It offers no temptations to
eternal life. This is not a Christian invention. worldly ambition. Our successors to the fish-
Heathen nations have always had their priests, ermen of Galilee, like them "know how to
their temples, and tlieir public assemblies. It suffer and yet to abound, to be without all
is not strange that men who are content to do things and yet to bo full." We are in no
tlieir religion by proxy, never care to pay danger of that horror of horrors a godless,
largely for this indulgence. pampered ministry.
With the coming in of a purer religion, the But in our zeal for the purity of the church,
honorable, truthful, self-denying Christian min- we must not let the watchmen on our walls
ister goes to his work, with his hands tied, as sink for want of food. Our soldiers must have
far as the means of gain are concerned, which their rations, or they, no more than others,
formed the wealth of his less scrupulous pre- can fight the good fight. A fair, ample support
decessors. He
depend simply on the vol-
is to every congregation owes to its minister. But
untary offerings, whether occasional or stated, it is not of him we purpose specially to speak

of the people, for whose sake, and in whose to-day.

 !

WIDOWS. 4ol

Is it reputable, is it honorable for a church will hnrry her to that land where her husband
\

to half starye its minister living, ami wholly i

awaits her. Whose, then, w ask, are those
starve his family when he is dead ? The State '
fatherless children ? Those orphans have a
has its pension for the widow whose husband claim upon the church, which she cannot escape.
lias laid down his life for his country an We do not ignore the fact that there are
honorable provision, she feels it, a just tribtite scattered societies whose object is to provide

to the manly valor of the departed. Has tlie for the widows and orphans of deceased clergy-
church militant no pension for the widows of men. Such societies exist but how are they
;

her brave warriors, who ofl " by the wayside sustained ? How many families could be kept
fall anil perish," worn out as much by the from utter starvation by their scanty income ?

h.irdships of the march, as by the wounds of Scrimp, pinch, and stint your minister, if

the stern conflict f you must, but remember, even in open warfare,
Tliose pale, earnest faces they rise up be- women and children are exempt from persecu-
fore us to remind us of the band of young tion. Be satisfied with making sure that your
devoted soldiers of the cross, who have braved minister is not too well fed and clothed, and has
disease, ganger, and death that they might nought whereon to feed his pride, or foster a love
win -a harvest of souls. Theirs was not a of luxury. Train him according to your own
wasted existence, though "few were their years mean notions, but spare his wife and children
and full of trouble!" Their crowns will be the horrors of genteel poverty ! Where is the
rich with stars, when the redeemed are counted rich widow who will give largely to establish a
in glory ! But we turn to the young wives fund for the families of deceased clergymen ?

who mourn Has the church no

their loss. Where is the large-hearted, liberal man who
hand of pityto stretch out to them? She has would fain wipe the blot of which we have
taken their best for her vanguard has she spoken, from the church of which he is a
nought for them but the dead bodies of their member f

hero-husbands ? Let it no longer be said that the private

The hoary-headed saint has gone down to soldier, who dies unknown on the battle-field,
the tomb. More than half a century he has ischeered by the thought that his country will
miuistered St the altar; and now, full of years watch over his dear ones, while the soldier of
and good deeds, he is numbered with the dead. the cross must have his last hours embittered
Must his aged partner toil with those trembling by the knowledge that certain poverty and
hands, and begin the struggle for daily bread ? possible starvation are in store for that widow
Is there for her no pension
no kind provision and those fatherless children, whom the church
for this time of need f Must she leave the dear should take to her bosom, and foster with ten-
old parsonage, and go, she knows not where ? der, unwearied care.
Must she find refuge in some squalid boarding-
house, and wipe the tears from her wrinkled
face where cold, curious eyes may look upon A SIGH FOR THE ABSENT SPRING.
her? BT W. 8. OAFFNET.
That eloquent, bold, effective preacher of the A PlrtH for the absent Spring !

A \gh for its bnda and flowers

Gospel is smittiin down in the midst of his
!

A sigii for tiie liopcs and joys wliich germed

noble career, \lbtory and death are sounded
In its briglit, anspicious iioural
for him with one blast of the trumpet. His
A sigli for the moments spent
very dying words have power to startle the In the vernal, perfumed bowers ;

insensible from their dreams of folly or gain. A i-i^'h for the sweets which nature gave
Even as his life-blood ebbs away, his trium- To this beautiful world of ours!

phant faith, with a clarion sound, proclaims the A s=gh for the he.irt-nrned hllss
truth of the religion he has preached. The Ere wreclced by time's wayward hours ;

church mourns, the very world gives in its A sigh for the dear ones borne away^
Life's sweetly breathing flowers
tribute of mingled sorrow and praise.
I

This is
well but where is the provision for the father-
;
Nay ! sigh not for time gone by.
For the present day is ours
less children of the glorified saint ? Who steps ;

Let 's bask in the light of Uope's bright ray,

forward to pledge a support for the poor stricken
Aud feast in Love's sweet bowers I

widow ? She
bear on bravely while she
will
And hope for a lasting Spring,
can, and feed her little ones by efforts that
Beyond this drear world of ours
consume her own life. She will not linger Where Sharon's briifht rose forever casts
long toil aud sorrow, with rough kindness,
: Its hues on immortal flowers
3t>*
 !

BROTHER RICHARD.
BY GEACE fARDN ER.

Margaret Rivers looked thoughtfully, half gard that one earnest pleading of her invalid
morocco pocket-book she
fearfully at the little mother, the only living thing left to her in tlie

held. She dreaded to open and count its con- wide world. " Take me away from here, my
tents, for she knew that the draft upon it for daughter; let us go far away, anywhere, only
the removal of her mother and herself, with let us go !"
their scanty furniture from a distant city, and Poor gentle invalid Far indeed must it be
!

for the necessary expense attending llujir es- to get away from that sorrowing heart from
tablishment even in that small, unpretending which she was trying to flee ?
cottage, had been greater than she had antici- And Margaret, too, longed to get away from
pated. But it must be done. She must now false friends, the scenes of her prosperity and
look the future in the face, bravely if she adversity, and so they came quite by chance to
could, fearfully if she must. The small, deli- this far-otf village, unknowing and unknown.
cate hands nervously unclasped it. Five, three, Was it wise ?

two ten
dollars then was all she had in the Margaret gazed drearily round the small
world, all that stood between them and want. room, which was at once parlor, sitting-room,
Ten dollars !It was a paltry sum. A month and dining-room at its bare walls, save two
;

ago she would have spent thrice as much, with- or three pictures which would have bi ought
out a thought, upon any knick-knack that nothing at the sale, and had therefore been
caught her fancy. This month it seemed a ! retained at the smaller room beyond, which
;

century to Margaret in the lesson, never till served for kitchen ; at the few plain, uecessaiy
then set before her, never learned, but in that articles of furniture within them, then sighed
time forced abruptly upon her, of sorrow and deeply, and with a feeling of utter despair she

trouble the power, the use, the need of money hid her face in her hands. With the move-
But the hour of trial brings out many an un- ment the pocket-book fell upon the floor. It

suspected energy and faculty, and Margaret was farfrom weighty, but the fall sounded
had not been found wanting, young, untried loud upon the uncarpeted floor. Accustomed
though she was. What had she not endured, all her life to carpets, in whose velvety richness

not done, iu that short period ? Her father's and softness a footfall was never heard, she
sudden death the inextricable embarrassment
; had not thought it possible to do with-
at first
of his affairs her mother's violent illness, re-
;
out them but necessity taught her better, and
;

sulting from the sudden shock of these sorrows ;

the last but one had been sold to furnish the
decisions and plans for the presentand future means to come liither.

all these trials and responsibilities fell upon
her inexperienced head and heart.
Poor Margaret She had felt braver, more
! and which was set apart for her mother, where
hopeful in the sunlight. While busy with the
arrangement of their few rooms, a dozen vague
schemes had floated through her brain, each of
which promised maintenance for herself and
invalid mother; but now, with the twilight
(lepening around her, weary almost to pain
with the unaccustomed physical exertion, tak-
ing tliem one by one and analyzing them,
bringing to bear upon them probability and
common sense, they seemed idle indeed, and
the many became narrowed down to very few.
For the first time she began to question if they
had done wisely to leave the city, where at
least they were known, although their influence
Iiad gone with their wealth, and where a variety
of labor was needed but how could she disre-
; that she at least was free from
452
These two rooms were a contrast to the one
adjoining, of which the door was partly closed,
she could be free from all thqsjabor and bustle
which might surround the daughter. Not very
costly, but very tasteful were the arrangements
of that room, larger than either of the others.
The afl'ectionate daughter had retained all tliat
was possible of her mother's favorite furniture
and ornaments at the sacrifice of every personal
her own.
bijou of
Poverty might come near Margaret, might
weaken, crush her, but never must it come
near her darling, idolized mother, whose shat-
tered mind and frame must ever throw all
upon herself. Her regular, quiet
responsibility
breathing came to her through the half-open
door, and she breathed a sigh of thankfulness
all anxiety. She
 BROTHER RICHARD. 453

moment as if the sound ivaa music,

listened a in either painting, drawing, or embroidery, but
though sad, then nas again lost in thought. was unsuccessful in all, for unfortunately she
Her smooth brow was corrugated with its in- h,td forgotten to obtain credentials as to her
tensity. qualificationsfrom her former teachers, and
She h.-id alrc.idy summed up what she could she knew not now where to address them.
attempt to do with any probability of succs. Economical as she tried to be, it did not take
She could te.ich a school if one could be ob- long for her small sum of money to dwindle
tained but friends and intluence, which s)ie
;
away. She succeeded finally in obtaining plain
had might bo needed for success. She
not, sewing, but was scantily supplied and poorly
could te.ich classes, or single pupils in drawing, paid. She managed to obtain the bare neces-
painting, and embroidery, but tliat was subjfot saries oflife
that was all.
to the same contingencies as the former. Fail- It was a summer of trial and distress to

ing th:!se she could do plain sewing, but she Margaret; with terror she saw the winter ap-
kuew how laborious and precarious that mnst proaching. They had made no friends, no .ac-
be. Failing all these Margaret stopped there quaintances. Poverty nuade Marg.iret haughty,
with a shudder I A gentle voice now called unapproachable, while the manners of those to
her, and soon, worn out with grief, fatigue, and whom she h.ad firstapplied for employment
anxiety, she fell asleep. held not disposed her to regard the peopie of
She rose early the next morning. All her the village favorably.
life she had been waited upon by servants ; While she was known to he proud and re-

now everythiug done in their little vienntji served, she w.as also known to be very poor,
must be done by her own inexperienced hands. and people seldom forgive the two combined.
It was a bright spring morning. The sun There were noble people in the village who, if
shone in the room warmly and brightly, the they h.ad known Margaret, would have loved,
birds sang cheerily, and Margaret, with the respected, and befriended her, and whom she
elasticity of yonlh and health, wondered how also would have regarded and esteemed but ;

she could have been so gloomy and despairing it w.ts no less true, and to their shame be it

the night before. The cottage stood upon a said, there were others who took advantage of
rise of ground she opened the door and looked
; her need to pay her but a tithe of the real value
abroad over the vill.ige. It nestled like some of her work, and Margaret, who, in her days
clinging, loving thing to the bosom of a beau- of wealth, had always paid generously for labor
tiful spacious hill. Surely, when all seemed so of any kiml, despised the meanness which took
wealthy, so flourishing, there could be found advantage of her poverty, while compelled to
something to do The cool spring breeze
! submit to it. The air of haughty superiority
sported with the rich, wavy tresses of the with which she received their niggard compen-
young and sent a deep healthy glow to the
girl, sation galleil her employers, and as the winter
beautiful cheek, and swayed the mourning approached they grew less in nnraber.
robes round the slender, graceful figure but ; Margaret had casually noticed for some time
still she stood there looking, hoping, till the that a portion of a spacious and elegant man-
water in the tea-kettle boiling over upon the sion, the grounds of which on the south adjoined
stove top called her suddenly within. that of the cottage, was being remodelled.
After theil'^ att&le breakfast of toast and Sitting at the window sewing from early morn-
chocolateMarga^^set out on her errand. She ing late at night, with only short interrup-
till

learned there was to be an examination that
very afternoon of candidates for the situation
of teacher of the village school. At the time
appointed she presented herself. Her style and
manners were not those of a
and she attracted notice and
passed her examination credit.ably, and was
subjected to some scrutinizing looks and ques-
tions bat the situation was bestowed upon a
; tasteful and beautiful her eye for beauty and
tions, during which she prepared their meals,
which now were forced to be very simple, she
harl carelessly observed it from time to time
till its completion. For the last few days,
vill.ige maiden, boxes containing the most elegant and expen-
curiosity. She sive furniture had been arriving, which she
saw with a feeling of envy and covetousness
which alarmed herself. Margaret loved the
;

buxom-looking damsel of some thirty years, grace had been cultivated from infancy.
who without doubt would m,tke the somewhat The next morning a plain but elegant travel-
Tnfractory pupils of aforesaid scliool "st.ind ling carriage drove up the carriage way to the
1 tinl,'' as the committee man expressed it. mansion. An elderly, fine looking gentleman
cucccsiively Margaret tried to obtain pupils and a young girl alighted. The latter did not


454 godey's lady's book and magazine.

immediately enter the house, but stood on the receiving a favor instead of her I They never
piazza, evidently surprised and gratified with receive any letters through the under- office, I

the situation and prospect. Margaret saw her stand never go to church
; altogether there ;

face distinctly. She was pretty, but not what seems something wrong about them."
one would call beautiful. She looked happy, "Perhaps," suggested Annie, " Miss Rivers
merry, but her principal charm lay in the good, cannot leave her mother, who is an invalid, I
kind expression of her youthful face. should judge."
Margaret learned in time that the house was " Crazy, rather !" replied Rose Huntley, in
the recent purchase of Mr. Leigh, a man of an unfeeling laugh. "At all events, I have
wealth and social position, a widower with two done with them. Mamma is not willing that I
children, a sonand daughter, the youngest of should employ her longer; and if I withdraw
which was Anne Leigh, the young girl whom my patronage, others will also, and I am sure I

Margaret had observed. In less than a month don't know what become of them. Mamma
will
everybody "in society" in the village, unless says her pride ought to have a fall that she ;

incapacitated by illness, had called upon the never heard of such cool insolence to superiors
new residents. as Miss Rivers is guilty of. And, as she has
Meantime .\I.argaret sat alone, unvisited and never seiemed the least grateful, I cannot be
nncared for, sewing constantly, and growing expected to patronize her in preference to those
paler and thinner. The day now often came whom I formerly employed."
that she, not her mother, had only two meals I thought
"But, Rose, you employed her
a day ; sometimes slie tried to forget it only because her terms were so reasonable," said
one. her friend.
Annie Leigh had noticed the fair, pale girl "Of course she could not expect to receive
in deep mourning who sat so constantly at the as much as those we have employed for years ;

window her graceful head, with its wealth of

; but if she would work for nothing, I should not
black hair put plainly back from the low broad feel it right toencourage so much pride and
forehead, bent perseveringly over her work impudence."
and the ceaseless plying of the needle, and Annie Leigh gave a pitying look towards the
seeing that she was a lady in the true sense brown cottage, and determined that she would
of the word, and knowing as little of poverty take a piece of cloth to be made into sheets,
as Margaret once did, wondered how anybody shirts, or something that very day no, it was
oould bear to sew so steadily. Sometimes she Saturday but the next Monday.
;

saw the gentle, delicate mother for such Annie And Margaret on that night was to drink the
decided she was leaning upon her daughter's very dregs of poverty. It was the middle of
arm, walking slowly round their small garden ; the evening. She had sewed from sunrise with
once she saw the younger stoop and gather a scarcely any interruption, for she knew on the
cluster of suowberries, and fasten them on her completion of that article depended their food
mother's bosom, and the elder laughed glee- and fuel for the morrow but now she stopped. ;

fully. The daughter also smiled ; but Annie It was impossible to finish and return it at a
thought it, even at that distance, such a wan, seasonable hour. What should she do ? She
forced smile. was out of food, money, credit, fdr she already
Annie Leigh's interest deepened; and one owed the grocer, and he had rudely refused
afternoon she inquired of two young ladies who to credit her further. She had had but one
had called concerning this beautiful girl and meal that day, and felt faint and sick. Great
her mother. They looked at each other signi- heaven Must they starve in a Christian land
I
!

ficantly, and then Rose Huntley answered : Yes, she would starve willingly this world ;

"Nobodies, of course, though we know no- was not so bright that she wished to stay in it.

thing of them except that their name is Rivers, Better that this struggle, bitter as death itself,

and they came here in the spring, and moved to sustain life were over But her mother 1 !

into that cottage. Where they are from nobody Exhausted as she was with hunger and weari-
knows. She is a seamstress ; but such airs as ness, the remembrance nerved her. It was

she gives herself ! My ! Miss Leigh, you ought little at the best she had been able to do of late

to see I took pity upon their destitute con-

I towards that idolized mother's needs, less still
dition, and gave Miss Rivers some work but ; for her comfort but the thin pale lips never
;

she will have no more from me. If she were a complained. But that mother must not perish
born princess, she could not be more condes- of starvation Something for her life she must
I

cending You would think / was the one

! do ! H7(a< ? Should she ask for an advance
 ; a
;

BROTHER RICHARD. 455

upon her work? She knew this would be easily see by looking at them, and had been
worse tliau useless she woulJ receive insult
; worn but a few times, and she mentioned the
with denial, for that work was Rose Huutley's. price paid for them.
Had she nothing she could sell ? She thought He laughed incredulously and s<aid, coarsely :

over their small stock of dress and furniture, "It looks suspicious, then, to say the least,
lu a city, she could have pawned many tilings for one in your circumstances who cannot pay
hut that was not to be expected in the two or an honest debt to have such exjiensive furs
three stores of the vilhige but it was their
; but I want nothing of them whether they be
only hope, and she must try. yours fairly or foully."
There were her mother's furs the last gift The indignant blood surged to Margaret's
of her dfceaied husband. She had shrunk cheeks, and the dark eyes Hashed, while she
from parting with them for that reason, and drew herself up haughtily but iu time to check ;

because she had thought her mother would the impulsive, stinging words came the thought
need them iu the winter hut there was no
;
her mother their need !

choice now. They were costly, and almost She waited a moment, and tliough her cheek
unworn. Perhaps the grocer would take them still burned, and her proud heart throbbed in-
iu exchange for groceries, and in payment of dignantly, she said, quietly : "They were my
what they already owed him. She put on her deceased father's last gift to my mother. If
bonnet and shawl, and takini; the box coutain- you will not take them, Mr. White, will yoa
ing them, hastened to the grocer's. trust me for some groceries till I can sell them
A
gay group of girls, in the centre of whom elsewhere ? I pay you soon."
shall be able to
was Annie Leigh, a short distance before her, He answered, roughly: "No, ma'am, I will
were going to the same place. not. I can't afford to support strangers, espe-

"Just let me tell you" Annie had said, as cially those who seem to t.ake it as a favor to
she met two or three young frieuds " what a me. Aud, look here, the rest of that bill must
splendid housekeeper I am. I thought it would be paid soon, or I shall take measures to ob-
be so nice, aud begged papa to let me take the tain it."
care all upon myself. I'apa laughed, and said The tone and words were such as admitted
I might try it this week, and just think here I of no appeal. Margaret's hands were clasped
it is Saturday night papa expected every
; for a moment, and a despairing agonized ex-
moment, and we are minus butter, coffee, cho- pression passed over her face, then she turned
colate, soda, aud a host of other things. I have slowly, aud with feeble, doubtful steps went
got the list iu my pocket. The worst of it is, out of the store.
Susan told me this morning that they were Annie Leigh's bosom swelled with pity, sym-
needed but I forgot. I was so ashamed I
; pathy, and indignation. She only had heard
determined not to send any one, but to come what passed. Her companions stood at a dis-
uijself. Come with me, will you, girls ?" tance laughing and chatting merrily. Annie
They entered the store together, and Annie had longed to speak but dared not, and the
had already given her orders to the obsequious tears started to her eyes as she marked the
shopkeeper when Margaret entered. expression of Margaret's face at Mr. White's
Aiinif l.'igh heard the low request to Mr. denial, and the slow, uncertain step.
Wliitf, tii ?peak with him alone, and the gruff " Mr. White, come here 1" Auuie Leigh
refusal. spoke authoritatively.
' Cau't busy ; say what you 've got to say The obsequious grocer came bowing to her
here." word of command the frown darkening liis
;

Margaret hesitated, then made the request face for his poor debtor quickly changing to a
that he would take some furs, at tlie same time smile for liis rich but not more beautiful cus-
taking off the cover of the box, in payment for tomer, but a trifle discomposed at the sliarp,
what she already owed, aud the remainder for ringing tone that the sweet voice of Auuie
groceries. Leigh seldom took.
He did not look at them, but pushed the box " Mr. White, send immediately to the hou->e
towards her. " Didn't want them. What could of the lady who just went out Miss Rivers
liedo with furs? He couldn't wear them, aud barrel of flour, keg of batter, some eggs, sugar,
his wife auil daughter were not so poor as to tea, coffee, chocolate (I know they must love
wear second-hand clothing !" chocolate, she said to herself), in fact, all sorts
Margaret, with the calmness of despair, ex- of groceries ; then Iwish you to m.ake out
plained that they were costly furs, as he could your bill for those and what is already due


456 godey's lady's book and magazine.

3'ou. I pay it and say uothiug about it

will ; asleep, and considerately placed
it where he

to her oranybody," she said, imperiously, the thought ought to be, with as little noise as
it

deep flush of anger and excitement on her fair
round cheek.
The grocer comprehended that he had in
some way displeased Miss Leigh, but he knew
better than to stop to try to mend matters. He
with his clerk went busily to work, they sug-
gesting, Annie deciding. Mr. White, however,
after the groceries were gone, as he handed
possible, then kegs, boxes, and packages fol-
lowed. Before he went out, finally, he placed
a folded paper softly on the table before Mar--
garet. Life had been coming back to her during
these minutes, though she had not moved, had
hardly strength to do so. Hope sprang up
afresh. Tlie grocer had then relented had
perhaps concluded to take her furs She !

Annie the receipted bill of her own goods said, dragged herself with difficulty to the dim light
deprecatingly "If I had dnly known Miss
: and opened the paper she read a receipt from
;

Rivers was a friend of yours, Miss Leigh, I" the grocer for the whole amount She stared, !

Annie interrupted him by handing him the and then the proud blood surged through her
money, and saying, coldly, " I believe that is veins. Pride then was not dead, if life, and
right, sir." strength, and hope were almost extinct. Mar-
Miss Leigh was not good company for her garet Rivers an object of charity It was only !

friends during their walk home. She was
thinking of a fact that she had noticed and
wondered at that she had seen no smoke
coming from the chimney of the brown cottage
that day. Now she comprehended it all; they
had no coal, no wood, and the weather so cold
They must have it, but in this she would need
her father's aid.
Margaret, after leaving the store, dragged
herself wearily home. Apathy came over her,
a momentary flash. Alas, Margaret's hunger
conquered her pride.
She was searching oh, vain labor
if per- I
chance a few stray coals could have escaped
her eye, with which to make these things use-
! ful, when there was another knock, and a gruff
voice asked "where she would have her coal
put?" The receipted bill of that was also
placed before her. On questioning the man,
he only answered "It was too dark to see;
:

the apathy of despair ! Nothing now was be- an' sure wasn't it ma'am ?"
yourself,
fore them but starvation or begg.ary ; the first Later, when a cheerful fire difi'used its grate-
by all means. She was weary of life it would ; ful warmth over the chilly room, and her
not be suicide. She had taken all means looked mother and herself sat down once more to a
upon by the world as justifiable and proper, to well-supplied table and partook of their favorite
live. Had she not toiled and struggled till the chocolate, she pondered over the matter, and
flesh indeed was weary and the heart faint ? tried to conjecture who their unknown bene-
She h.ad failed She had come to that state,
! factor could be. Who could thus have known
poor, weary, way-worn Margaret, that even the alltheir need, and able and willing to relieve ?
thought of her mother sleeping in the next Not a friend could she count in the village,
room failed to rouse her. Benumbed with the much less one so generous and unselfish.
cold,but unconscious of anything save her Hardly able yet to believe it was not a dream,
misery and despair, she Still remained in the she glanced at their treasures. Yes, there
same posture she had taken when first she were all sorts of groceries in large quantities,
came in, her arms folded upon the table, her besides meat and poultry.
poor weary head bent upon them, the rich, Margaret would not allow to herself that she
dishevelled hair sweeping the table. Was the felt humiliated at receiving what might be

proud and beautifnl Margaret Rivers indeed called charity. She said to herself that she
fallen to this
? And thus time passed. did not, would not ; that she felt relieved and
There was a noise of wheels before the door ! grateful,and so she did but, nevertheless,
;

What matter? No good could come to them there was a little inward chafing, and a quickly
save death, and thank Heaven no worse. ! formed determination that this unknown bene-
There was a noise of something and somebody factor or benefactress must be discovered and
on the door-step, a knock at the door, then in time repaid.
another and another. Margaret neither moved Monday came. Margaret had sat down at
nor answered but the door was not locked,
; her favorite window to finish Miss Huntley's
and was opened, and a man appeared with a work, when there was a gentle tap at the door.
barrel of flour. Slie opened it, and recognized the pretty, pleas-
"Where will you have this put, ma'am?" ant girl who stood there as Miss Leigh, who,
But receiving no answer he concluded she was blushing, inquired for Miss Rivers. Having


-BBOTUER RICUAKD. 457

entered, she introduced lierself, tlieii said, with "Do you love flowers?" Annie questioned
pretty hesitation, looking eagerly, yet a little of Mrs. Rivers, noticing a few withered flowers
timidly, up at Margaret :
in a vase on the table ne.ar her.
"Can I get you to make some shirts for my Mrs. Rivers answered in the affirmative.
father and brother, Miss Rivers? I shall be " We have a great many in the conservatory,
very ninch obliged if you will. There is no more th.-in we know what to do with," Annie
hurry about them." She had sat down quietly remarked but she did not say she would send
;

while speaking, and there was so much gentle-
ness and goodness in her face and manners
that .Margaret unbent from her usual stateli-
ness, as she replied that she would be very
glad to do them.
With a laudable determination to make it
seem re.iUy a business matter, Annie Leigh
inquired her price.
Margaret hesitated. " Miss Huntley pays
twenty-five cents."
Annie Leigh looked incredulous. " I must
have mi-'understood you. Did you say twenty-
five cents ?"
" Vou did not. It was twenty-five."
The indignant blood mounted to Annie's
temples.
" I expected yon to s.ay a dollar, Miss Rivers.
That what we have been accustomed to p.iy
is
for more common ones, and is the usual price
but I was going to say that I should not be
willing to pay more than a dollar and a quarter
for these, although they are to be quite nice
ones. Father and brother Richard are so par-
ticular always about their shirts; so" she
adiied, laughingly
"be sure. Miss Rivers, not
to put in more than a dollar and a quarter's
wortli of stitches."
Generous, delicate Annie Leigh! willing to
seem to drive a bargain to hide her
rosity.
" Nay, Miss Leigh while I have made them
; article,
for .Miss Huntley at the price I mentioned, I
her any. Perhaps she feared they would In)
declined by Margaret. SJie had been gone
scarcely half an hour, when a servant came
with an elegant bouquet for Miss Rivers.
Annie m.ide the shirts a pretext for coming
in every day, besides she liked to be neigh-
borly, she said, and she stayed longer each time
she came, and was so merry, so artless, and
me kind, that Margaret's heart went out towards
this good young girl, who on her side regarded
Margaret with the most enthusiastic love and
admiration.
Annie's friendship was of the active kind
also. Her father's wealth and her own popu-
laritygave her great influence. A word here,
another there of the right sort and in the right
place, and Margaret soon had plenty of work at
a fair price. Rose Hnntley had occasion to
; blush more than once with shame and mortifi-
cation at her meanness with regard to Jlarga-
ret, and it was well that she had. The lesson
might prove profitable.
Margaret bad locked both lips and heart upon
the past, and Annie only knew from appeiiriimes
that they had seen better days. This fact she
never doubted. People with such manners
and h.abits of refinement could not belong to
their present position.
own gene- One morning when Annie was present, Mrs.
Rivers, in going to a drawer to look for some
took out a portfolio, and in doing so,
its contents upon the floor. With charac-
fell

cannot receive so much from you." teristic politeness, Annie sprang to pick them
"I will leave it to my father," said Annie. up for her. Without intending to notice, she
"He kii'Avs the standard prices, and wishes unconsciously did so, and exclaimed, impul-
me always to be guidr 1 by ihera. We are very sively : "Paintings! Oh, how pretty! May
near neighbor^. !:! vmu know it. Miss Rivers? I look at them ?" she exclaimed, with delight.
I hope we shall be more neighborly than we Mrs. Rivers smiled assent. She looked .at them
have been thus far. You have not called, and eagerly, one after the other. They were pencil
I am the last comer in town. I should be most sketches, landscapes, and heads, both in oil

happy to see you." and water colors. " How beautiful ! Oh if I

Rose Huntley, had she been present, would could only paint half as well 1 Who did them ?

have expected to see Miss Rivers painfully I do so want to learn to draw and paint ! I

embarrassed by such condescension fiom Miss have been teazing papa; but there is no suit-
Leigh. She would have been offended and able teacher here and we are so far from the
;

surprised at Margaret's courteous, calm man- city that he says no artist would be likely to
ner, as if speaking to an equal, while she have either time or inclination to come so far
thanked her, bat replied that "her mother's to give lessons. The teacher of drawing and
health and her owu want of time precluded the painting at the Academy also has left, and
making calls." they have not yet provided one to fill her j lace.
 : .

458 godey's lady's book and "Magazine.

If they would only get one who coulii paint and oil I And, papa, she I mean Miss, not

like this I Do you know wlio did these ?" slie Mrs. Rivers did them all every one herself.
asked, coaxingly. Oh, so exquisite I and, papa" sshe ran on,
Mrs. Rivers smiled as she answered in her almost out of breath "
want herfor a teacher;
I

low, sweet voice, " that her daughter, Marga- and I want you to speak to the preceptor, or
ret, did them long ago when they lived iu the committee, or somebody, to get her the situa-
world, and he was tliere. Margaret was greatly tion in the academy to teach drawing and
admired then, and never did any sewing. painting. The teacher left last week. Mr.
Jane did all that for her. She wondered where Caldwell told me so. May I and will you ?
Jane was now." And she called in a louder please, papa."
voice :
" Margaret, will you send Jane to me ? Mr. Leigh and his son laughed heartily at
Wliere can she be so long? I -want her to her enthusiasm and volubility for answer. The
bathe my head," and the tone was a little young girl looked ready to cry at this conduct,
querulous. instead of the hearty response she had autici-
And Margaret, iu the other room, instantly patnd. Mr. Leigh, seeing it, said, kindly :
laid down her sewing, came to her, and said, " I have no doubt, my dear, bnt that your
soothingly: "Let me play Jane this time, pet seamstress is a good little woman, and un-
mamma. I will do it very carefully." And derstands her business well, and is altogether
she tendeily bathed the head, whose tresses, very well for her position ; but as for her skill
but a short time since a purple black, were in painting, remember, love, that your eye and
now almost snowy white. taste are, as yet, uncultivated. It takes a grent
Annie, her face all astonishment, asked deal of time and money, as well as a natural
" Did 3'ou do these, Miss Rivers ?" talent, to make even a tolerable artist. Does
Margaret looked up at the question, saw the it seem reasonable to expect that this favorite
sketches. "Yes, soon after 1 left school." of yours could have commanded all these ad-
Annie was silent some minutes at last, she
; vantages ?"
asked "Do you like to sew ? I should think
: " I don't know about
that, papa I only ;

it would be much easier to teach painting. / know that think them beautiful, and I am
I

should much rather, if I knew how." sure you will say so, too, when you see them.
Margaret smiled a little sadly. " It would I borrowed them of Mrs. Rivers, without let-
be easier and more desirable, certainly ; but I ting her daughter know
on purpose for you
it,

was not successful in my efforts to obtain to show to the committee. I know j'ou will

pupils when I first came." like them. Will you look at them, papa ?"
"Oh, but they couldn't have known how Mr. Leigh smiled, indulgently. "Very well,
beautifully you do it. There is
." But Annie daughter after tea I will look at them but I
; ;

interrupted herself. She had a plan in her
pretty head, and after a few moments, took
leave. That afternoon she was feverishly im-
patient for her father's return. But when he
came, he was accompanied by her brother
am afraid I can only call them daubs."
Annie, however, still looked confident. Her
brother had listened to the conversation with
much amusement. He was very fond of his
little sister, and very indulgent, who on her

Richard, whom she was so delighted to see,
after his long absence, that for some time she
entirely forgot the aforesaid plan.
They were seated at the tea-table, and she
had poured out the tea, and seen that they
were helped to everything before she broached
the subject which had so engrossed her since
morning.
" I have made such a discovery, papa I" she
began. "You remember how much I have
wanted to take lessons in painting, and that
part thought there was noboi^ quite so splen-
did as " brother Richard 1" "And, in truth,
Richard Leigh was a noble specimen of man-
hood, bodily, mentally, morally. He was tall,
dark, erect, with a quiet consciousness of
power in eye and bearing. He measured him-
self by a high standard, and, though he knew
he had not attained to the desired height, he
had willed that the distance should be gradually
and surely lessening.
Annie ate scarcely any snpper she began to ;

yon said there was no competent teacher here ?
And what do you think, papa ? I was at the
brown cottage this morning, and Mrs. Rivers
happened to upset a portfolio, and I ran to
pick up the contents for her, and so saw them
the most beautiful sketches, both in pencil
be a little impatient of the length of time her
father and brother sat at table; who, in fact,
had forgotten all about the matter directly
after she had spoken, and the latter was de-
scribing some incidents of his journey, when,
chancing to glance at Annie, he observed her
 pAaCTICAL LESSOXS IN' DRAWIXG. 459

nneasiness and impatience. He stopped langh- dniged,' I shall perhaps introduce him some
ing. " But litlla puss, here, does not seem time to the l.ady artist mind, papa, not seam-
in a mood to appreciate my descriptions I Wliat stress any longer ; but he will be cert,aiu to lose
is the matter? Oh, I remember I We will his heart."
waive this subject. The seamstress first, by all Why did Richard Leigh's lip cnrl ? Was it

means," he said, good-humoredly. at the idea of losing his heart to a poor seam-
Mr. Leigh echoed his son's laugh. " Excuse stress, or of losing his heart at all ?

me, daughter, I forgot," moving back his chair. (CoDclai^ioii next month.)
"Go and bring them. Come, Richard, you
mast share the treat."
Annie, looking a little asliami-d of her imp.^-
tience, went to get the portfolio; and, return-
PRACTICAL LESSONS IN DRAWING.
ing, placed it before them both. On could see SIXTH LKSSOS.
gentlemen felt that
at a glance th.it both the We have now to consider the subject of
they were going to be bored, but wished to " Outline," a most important one tea draughts-
oblige the young girl. At the first, they both man.
glanced carelessly as if desirous not to see
A simple perfect outline is more valuable
defects for her sake ; but the glance changed than an imperfect one, worked up with .all the
to a look of surprise, and, as they continued,
skill of a Vandyke, Wilkie, or Landseer.
to one of deep interest. Koth were soon en- M.any persons assert that the sh.ading .and
grossed, passing encomiums here .and there,
filling will hide some of the defects in a bad
up
with an occasional notice of some slight defect
outline but be assured that such advice is
;

in design or coloring. Annie sat before them,

not only wrong, hut highly injurious to tyros
silent with delight, and mischief sparkling in in the art of drawing for opinions such as
;

her eyes. She couldn't wait till they had quite this are apt to undermine its right principles,
finished. "D.inbsl eh, papa?" and make beginners careless.
Mr. Leigh smiled. "Something more than Outline signifies the contour, or the line by
daubs, my daughter but this seamstress could
;
which any figure is defined, being, in fact, the
sot have done these. There must be some extreme or boundary line of an object. It is
mistake, or she h.as deceived you."
the line that determines form. For example :

" P.apa, you ought not to s.ay that, when you

the outline of an apple would not, if correct,
do not know her! I do." There was indig- convey an impression to your mind that it was
nation and a good deal of dignity in the tone
intended for an orange or a pear; and if you
and words, which accorded ill with her childish look at Figs. 2-, 24, and 25. you could not
face and lisp, and her father's eye twinkled.
imagine that they were like the ordinary jugs
" Good, my daughter Stand up for your
!
in use.
friends that's right. VTell, if mind, I say
Fig. 15.
[/this seamstress really painted these pic-
tares, I will endeavor to get for her the situa-
tion in the Acf.'ieiny. Whoever p.ainted these
is equal t 'lAt, ifequal to anything."
"Thauk yoaiyf^m, for all but the doubt.
But I wish you would see about it this very
night. You are not very tired eh, papa ?
You see they may engage some one, and it Outline may be said to be the skeleton or
would be such a nice phace for Miss Rivers so anatomy of objects ; at le.ast, it bears the s.ame
I much easier than sewing she gets so tired ; relations to them.

I
sewing all d.ay. She never says so ; but I Outline cannot be formed without the aid of
'
know she does. Why, / should die, papa! curved and straight lines (see Lesson III.).

I
Will you see about it this very night tliat 's
I
a good papa!" And she put her arms round
his neck, coaxingly, and kissed him.
"What would you do with this persistent
girl, Richard ? Would you indulge her? But
yon did not have the kiss so perhaps you
cannot judge fairly."
"If he says 'yes, that I ought to be in-
VOL. LXVII. 37
Of course, as you are now able to form lines
of all kinds in any direction, and of reasonable
length, you are already in possession of the
alphabet of outline, and the rest depends upon
yourself; for without constant application and
;
attention you can never succeed.
Xertr be absurd enough to delude yourself, while
you think you are deceiving your relations or


460 godet's lady's book and magazine.

friends, bi/ tracing outlines against a loindow. If the subject is to be shaded, the outline

The practice cannot be too highly condemned, should be lightly, and not too firmly drawn.
because it is contrary to art, honor, and good We naust remiud the student in drawing that,
sense; and so long as you continue the sys- to give a correct delineation of the human figure,
tem, it will be impossible for you to depend it is indispensable to have some knowledge of
upon yourself. muscular action. It is necessary that all the
All marks of lines that assist in expressing muscles, their purposes and functions, should
the character of the design may be considered be well understood ; nor must osteology, or
as belonging to outline. the bones of the skeleton, be neglected.
There are many methods of producing effects

by means of outline, besides adhering to vari-

ations of form in the figures. For example, THE FADED FLOWER.
the lines used to express drapery should be BY FLORA.
flowing, continuous, and generally of variable It gone! and the dewdrop which oft loved to find
is

breadth those used for the flesh or for some

;
'Neath its half-folded petals a sweet resting place,

kind of fruit should partake of the same char-
acter hard substances, such as armor, statu-
;
And was proud on its bowed head thus humbly to shine,
And laugh at the stars through the regions of space,
Falls now OQ what once was that flow'ret so fair,

ary, etc., should be expressed by uniform lines
of a fine characterand the foliage should be
;
drawn boldly, with occasional dark touches,
and with a tremulous lateral motion of the
hand. The figure of Psyche will assist the
pupil in comprehending our remarks upon
drapery and flesh.
Fig. 26.
Its dried leaves fast mingliug with the dust that is there.
gone! and the zephyr which lingered to play
It Is
With the soft velvet leaflets that decked the frail flower,
And as it passed by steal its fragrance away,
And bear it far onward from bower to bower.
Sighs mournfully now o'er the lovely one's grave,
And lingers iu vain for the fragrance it gave.
It is gone! and the sunbeam which sped on its way,
With warmth for its life and light for its hue.
And loved still to remain at the close of the day,
Lest the flow'ret be chilled by the dampness of dew,
Comes now but to lighten the spot where it lies,
And to mourn that, on earth, all that 's beautiful dies.
It is gone ! and the rainbow-winged humming-birds
moan
That the nectar they loved has forsaken its cup,
That the fountain within with the flow'ret has gone.
And the sweet honey drop is forever dried up
Alas, disappointment comes ever to blight
The fondest of hopes and the purest delight!
It is gone! and the painter had chosen that flower.
That his canvas might glow while its image he traced ;

It is goue, and its loveliness cometh no more

His quick eye to please aod his canvas to grace

He saw it had withered, that death had been there.
And turned from the spot with a sigh of despair.
gone and the poet thus bittorly spoke,
It is !

For he loved oft to gaze ou Ihe^ow'ret's fair face.

Never jag your lines by making them by fits
While deep iu his heart fondest mem'ries awoke,
and starts let the motion of your hand be
;
And his thoughts wandered back into sunnier days.
free and uninterrupted, so as to form a con- Where warm, true hearts echoed the tones of his own,
tinuous line for, if the pencil is removed from
;
But the flower has faded the memories have flown.
the paper, a line like a saw will be the result. It is gone ! and we turn from the wreck of the flower,
We need not remind our pupils that there As we turn from our hopes when they wither and die,

are extremes of outline as in other things the ;

When dark, heavy clouds seem above us to lower,
one is too great a uniformity of line, the other And the bright bow of promise has passed from the
sky-
too great a variation of breadth of line. If the
To our aching heart's murmur this answer is given :

subject intended \.ohe finished in outline, the

is
"Treasures fade not which are laid up in heaven."
pupil should strengthen one side more than
the other ; and we recommend that the outline
etchings issued by the "Art Union of London," The firefly only shines when on the wing.
which are excellent compositions, should be So it is with the mind ; when once we rest we
carefully studied and copied. darken.
 " ;

A TRUE GHOST STORY. 461

had their hands well besmeared, and their

A TRUE GHOST STORY. mouths full.
FOR THE YOUNG POLKS. "Och, mum!" said Biddy, " where 's the
BT K. L. use ? The children 's fairly stuck togedder
On last Christmas Eve
put on a large apron I with the muss, and the flnre 's intirely sp'iled

and went down to the kitchen to prepare a on me after all me scrubbin'." And Biddy
plum pudding for next day's dinner. The despairingly threw herself into a chair by the
children, instead of being range.
"Nesilod all suug iQ their beds, Anxious to make friends with her, so that
While visions of sujjar-plams danced through their they might not be sent to bed at once, the
heads," children crowded around her, and Tom, acting
crowded eagerly about me, begging that they as spokesman, begged her to be good and tell
might be allowed to sit up an hour longer them about Mrs. Malouey's pig, or something
"just this once," and help me pit the raisins. funny.
" We '11 bo so good I" pleaded Johnny, the "Oh yes do, do !" echoed all the rest, half
!

youngest sou of our house. smothering her with embraces.

" Aud I can do them so nicely with my new " Och Is it tell 3,/unni/ story on Christmas
!

knife !" said Tom. Eve, now ? Go 'long wid yez Who everI

"I'm not sleepy one bit, mother!" urged
Kitty, looking np at me with distended eyes.
" Kor I, cither Oh, do let us sit up, mam-
! to Christmas, and they'd skeer the wits out of
ma 1" put in little Minnie, adding, in an ear-
nest, injured tone: "I 've never seen a plum
pudding made in all my whole life !"
This settled the matter for Miss Minnie was
nearly six years old, and her pitiable case
heard of such a thing ? It 's the horrible kind,
all about the ghosts and goblends, that belongs
yez."
" Pooh !" said Tom. " I 'd like to hear the
story that could frighten me.'"
;
" Would ye, now ?" asked Biddy, with a
wicked twinkle in her eye. "Pigs, indade I !

required attending to at once. Permission being could tell yez something about Mrs. Maloney,
granted, the children gave vent to shouts of now, that 'ud stand ivery one nv yer hairs on
joy that brought Aunt Mary into the kitchen. end."
" Hurrah Hurrah for the pudding Hur- ! "Well, tell us!" cried the children, crowd-

!

rah mother
for Hurrah for Aunt Ma
! ing more closely about her, all but Tom, who
Aunt Mary laughed her pleas.int little laugh stood at the other end of the hearth, feeling
and held up her finger. "Hush! you'll very brave, indeed.
frighten Santa Clans's reindeers so they '11 run "Pshaw!" he muttered, "yon might scare
away with him, aud we won't get any toys to- the girls, Biddy, but you couldn't scare me,
night." never mind what you told us."
" Humph !" exclaimed Tom, drawing himself "Well," began Biddy, lowering her voice ^^^^
up with dignity; "we don't believe a word mysteriously, "yez must know that beforff'^^^^
about Santa Claus. We know better than Mrs. Maloney came to this eounthry, she h.id a
that." mighty hard quarrel, indade, with one of her
" Yes," cViimed in Kitty " we believe in the ; payple. Did yez ever mind, now, a quare scar
Christ-Child there isn't any such man as
; on the furhead of her ?"
Santa Clau^. Grandpa says he has left the "Yes," whispered the children, all but Min-
country in disgust, because the children have nie, who was becoming rather sleepy.
taken such a fancy to Christmas-trees." " Well," resumed Biddy, " I '11 tell yez more
" Shure thin," said Biddy, who was prepar- about that same in a minute. She had a
ing the bowls and dishes for the pndding cere- mighty quarrel, I say, in the ould eounthry j'
monials, " an' what '11 be the good uv hangin' concerning the ownin' of the farm she was
yer stockin's on the three, if Santa Clans is livin' on. Ye see Misther Maloney as fine a
after quittin' yez all ?" boy as ever lived, pace to his soul well, he
!

"Ha! ha!" laughed all the little ones. left it all to his wife, and he hadn't been dead

"Stockings on the Christmas-tree! Oh, Biddy !" a month liefore his Cousin Mike came flusther-
Order being finally restored, the "pitting" ing around wid a law paper called a morragage,
aud "stemming" commenced in good earnest or something like that, and claimed the pro-
and, as a consequence, in the course of three perty hisself the baste And she poorcray-
I

minutes Tom had cut his finger ; Minnie had ture !
afther p.iyin' 'most everything she kud
spilled her ctip of raisins on the floor, and all lay her hands on to the lawyers, was glad to
 "

462 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

get shet of the whole business, and come over "Wait!" said Johnny, who was becoming
to this counthry,with nothin' but the clothes rather nervous; " let me light the candle he-
on her hack, and one chist Mike, he livin' on
; fore you go on."
the farm like a gintleman, an' she a-washin' "Och, what's the matter wid ye?" chided
and scrubbin' here in Ameriky by the day. Biddy. " Be aisy, will ye, and kape yer sate
Yez miud, now, how hard she used to work till I tell yez. Well," she resumed, "the
liere last spring, while the house was a-clanin', quare noises got worse and worse, and the
and how lovely she did the ironin' wake afther candle kep' flarin' wilder and wilder, until at
wake ? At last, in the fall, jest about a month last it went out on me intirely, and there I

back, what should come from Ireland to her stud in the dark. All in afiusther, I made me
but a letter from Mike, telling how he had jest way to the door, and, belave me, if Mrs. Malo-
died, in great trouble of mind an' body
ney bad
luck ter her! hadn't locked it by
" What from Mike ?" interrupted Tom.
! mistake and taken the kay wid her So afther !

"Cell, how ye bother me from one of Mike's

! gropin' my way about the room, and knockiu'

payple, then where 's the differ? and tellin' over the things trying to find a match, I be-
how he had confessed he had sold the farm, thought me to knock on the wall and find if
and that the paper he had got it by was all a there wasn't anybody in the next room that
lie indade, and he frettin' to the last bekase would push me in a match or two under the
he must die widdout Mrs. Maloney's forgive- door, when tlie saints protect us ! if I didn't
ness and in the same letter they send her fifty
; hear the awfuUestest groanin' a-comin' out of
dollars that Mike left her on his dyin' bed." the wall that iver a mortal heard So I just !

" That was good in him," suggested Johnny. whipt the shoes and frock uv me, and was
off

"Och, good!" exclaimed Biddy, wrathfully. under the bedclothes in the wink of yer eye."
" An' what good was it, an' he afther almost " Oh dear I don't wonder you were fright-
I

breakin' the poor crayture's heart afore that ? ened, Biddy," said Kitty, as the children hud-
Well, she was plazed enough to get the money dled more closely about her, and even Master
for all, as she told me herself, indade, here in Tom drew a few steps rearer to her, and sat
this blessed kitchen, for she said it would get down.
her many a little convaynience that, barrin it, "Do yez, now?" whispered Biddy, confi-
she 'd a had to do widdout ; and that same dentially. "But the worst hasn't come yet.
evenin' she came to ask would the mistress let Well, there I lay all gathered up in the bed,
me go stop wid her that night, for she felt kind tryin' to kape the groanin' out iiv me ears,
ov skeered-like to be alone afther hearin' uv when I felt somethin' puUin' puUin' softly at
Mike dyin,' an' he worryin' afther her. Well, the bed covers, and thiu if somethin' warrm

your mother was willin', and thin Mrs. Maloney didn't kind uv brathe over me face. Just as I
asked would I go home with her at oncet, and was goin' to skrame out, Mrs. Maloney camee
mind the place for her, while she went to just bustlin' in, all uv a flusther for kapin' me alone
a store or two to get some things she was afther
wautin' over Sunday. The payple of the house
where Mrs. Maloney was stoppin', ye see, was
strange to her, as she hadn't had a room there
so long and I felt quite comforted-like when
;

saw the candle lit again. After she was in the!

bed, she told me how she had bin persuaded
into buyin' iver so many things more 'n she
i
more 'n about ten days. Well," continued meant to, spendin' tin doling in all. And do '

Biddy, dropping her voice to a whisper again, ye know, Biddy,' sez she, 'it puts me all in a
" I went back wid her, and thin she lit a candle shiver-like when I think how I 've bin spendin'
on the table standin' in the middle of her room, Mike's money, and he moulderin' in the grave,
and told me if I would sate myself for a moment widdout me ever forgiviu' him at all, at all ?'
or two she would just take a run in the street 'Och, don't he Mrs. Maloney!' sez I,
silly,

for the things she wanted. But I tell you she tryin' to comfort her, though I couldn't help
wasn't gone ten minutes before I wished me- shiverin' meself when I bethought me of the
self out of it again. There was the quarest dreadful groanin's I had heard; 'don't be
creaking noises goin' on yez ever heard, and botherin' yerself wid such notions Mike 's got ;

the candle began to flare baek'ards and for- other things to trouble him now, I warrant,
rards so," said Biddy, as suiting the action to besides the likes of ye!' And so we got to
the word, she accidentally extinguished the talkin' about one thing an' another, until at
candle on the table beside her, leaving the last we both fell aslape."
large kitchen quite dim, except in the corner " And didn't anything more happen, after
where Aunt Mary .and I were silently working. all ?" asked Tom, quite disappointed.
 "
:
;

A TRUE GHOST STORY. 463

" Wait till yez hear, and don't be spilin' Mi-s. Maloney look mighty grand, I tell yez.
me story," said Biddy, mysteriously, adding, But who'd a-ever thought of Kitty Maloney
as sbe looked nervously around ber, causing wearin' such toggery as that But the fifty I

all the children instinctively to do the same dollars had overcome her sinse iutirely."
" Well, as I was sayin', we both fell aslape, Tlie children began to laugh, and Tom looked
and I didn't wake up ur the till the middle rather sheepish as he said " Humph I knew it : !

night. The moonlight by that time was a-pour- would turn out to be something of that kind !"
iu' in the room, showiu' all the furniture and "Butthe black goblin, Biddy, with the
everything distinctly, and there, in the corner, glaringeyes ?" asked Johnny, not quite satisfied.
I saw the black thing a-standin' that must ha' " The goblin !" cried liicUly, in mock amaze-
bin pnlliu' me bed-covers, an' it a-lookin' at ment " and did
; I s.ay now it was a gobbliu ?

me with glarin' eyes ; and the next minute if It was the black cat, ye silly crayture, that
I didn't see a sight that made me almost lape Mrs. Maloney kapes with her, in spite uv the
out of the bed wid astonishment. There, on a torment that it is."
cliair close by Mrs. Maloney's side of the bed, " And the creaking, Biddy, and the groans
was yez may belave me now, for I saw it with in the wall?"
my own eys a skeleton I A skeleton, stark "Och! sure I clane forgot to tell yez what

an' on the chair, a kind ur leanin' over

stiff that was ; that was a poor old soul iu the next
forninst Mrs. Maloney an' she sleepin', only ; room a-rockin' in an old chair, an' a-groauin'
fur the snorin', like a young baby." wid the toothache."
"Oh, Biddy 1" exclaiiced all the children, " And Mrs. Maloney's scar," asked Kitty ;

in a bre.ithles3 whisper, " what did you do ?" "how did she get that ?"
" Well, I hardly know how it happened, but " Didn't I tell yez ?" said Biddy, innocently.
I somehow fell aslape, and me lookin' at it. " Well, that came from her tumblin' on the
But after a while, the wind a-moanin,' or tlie hot coals when she was a baby. But sakes
groanin' in the wall woke me up again, and alive! if it ain't strikin' nine! Go to bed
" Was it there yet ?" gasped Tom. wid yez, now and you, Master Tom, don't be
;

" Indade it ic(wjust the same as before," so aisy skeered with skeletons and such trash
returned Biddy. after this."
" Did it come to reproach her, Biddy ?" Tom was "missing" in au instant, and he
" ye mane ? Shure, Master Tom,
Is it spake, confessed to me privately the next morning
how could it spake widdout a tongue and did ; that he dreamed that night of a Chrit-traas-tree
ye ever hear uv a skeleton wid a tongue ? Bnt full of skeletons, and Santa Claus dancing a
wait a bit till I tell yez. Well, there I was jig around it, with a pipe in his mouth, and a
lyin' lookin' at it, for I couldn't take my eyes funny hoop skirt hung about his body.
off uv it for amazement anyway, when the ; Biddy had her way for that once but her ;

room gettin' lighter with the comiu' morniu', " ghost stories" have been interdicted for the
Mrs. Maloney giv a start, and riz straight up in future.
bed"
\ the
" And hadn't it disappeared by that time ?"
asked Tom, trunUipg all over.
Cheerful Mrsic. The poet Carpaui once
"Never a oK^
answered Biddy. "But
asked his friend Haydn how it happened that
Mrs. Maloney didn't seem to persave it at first
his Church Music was always of an animating,
so she jumped out of bed, and asked me
cheerful, and gay description. Haydn's answer
wouldn't I hurry and get dressed to go with
was " I cannot m.ake it otherwise. I write
:

her to early Mass ? The words were no sooner

according to the thoughts which I feel. When
out of her than she turned suddenly and looked
I think upon God, my heart is so full of joy
full at it. The next minute her band was upon
that the notes dance and leap, as it were, from
the skeleton, a-raisiu' it from the chair, and it
my pen ; and since God has given me a cheer-
a-tremblin' all over."
ful heart, it will be easily forgiven me that I
The children clung closer to Biddy, and Tom
serve him with a cheerful spirit."
managed to gasp out " Well, what happened :

then ? Tell us, quick !" Never suffer yonr children to require service
"Happened!" exclaimed Biddy. "Why, from others which they can perform them-

nothing only Mrs. Maloney gave it a shake or selves. A strict observance of the rule will be
two and put it on ; and a very fine skeleton it of incalculable advantage to them in every
was ! It had thirty springs to it, and made period of life.

37*


NOVELTIES FOE NOVEMBER.

HEADDRESSES, BOSNETS, CHILDREN'S DRESSES, SACK, WRAP, ETC.

Fig. 1. Fig. 2.

Fig. 1. Coiffure for a ball. The hair is Fig. 4. The Alexandra ringlets, as worn by
dressed with plaits and rolls. A tnft of field- the Princess of Wales.
flowers is arranged as a coronet, and a spray of
Fig. 4.
flowers is arranged with the back hair.
Fig. 2. The hair is arranged in a knot on
top of the head, and falls at the sides and back
in heavy rolls, through which are twined
branches of flowers.

i|
Fig. 3. New style of waterfall, looped np in
the centre by a braid. Fig. 5. Dress for a little girl from two to
464
 NOVELTIES FOR NOVEMBER. 465

Fig. S.

fonr years olJ, of bino cashmere, liraitled with Fig. 6. Fall dress for a girl of ten years.
white silk braid. The corsage is made low and The material is a Solferino poplin, bordered on
square, and intended to wear with a white the skirt with a black band, with a scalloped
muslin gnimpe. The points round the waist edge bound with velvet, and a white silk but-
are bound with white braid, and trimmed with ton on each scallop. The plastron on the cor-
white buttons. sage, the cuffs, and sash, are all of black, aud

trimmed to suit the skirt. The corsage is half Fig. 7. Fancy apron for a little girl. It is
low, and worn over a white plaited mnslin of thin white muslin, trimmed with puffings,
guimpe. through which bright colored ribbons are run.
466 godby's lady's book and magazine.
 1

NOVELTIES FOR XOVEMBEK. 467

el

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468 godey's lady's book and magazine.
I
Fig. 13. Fig. 14. Home-dress of black
alpaca. The corsage and skirt
are in oue, and the trimming
consists of cuir-colored velvet
buttons, and bands of cuir-color-
ed velvet.

PATTERN FOR NETTING OR

CROCHET.
BORDER PATTERN.
^BBBEQOnniBBGBrijaBinMBGCin
DDncaDnrniB:3r:HDaiaBaDa
ODDDCnnnBinDOBCDCBBBBOa
DapncDDDnaasDBcaDDBBBBa
ECnnDOnDBBBCBnDDaDDeBBB
DnnnaaaBBBBCBBBLnciGaan
cnnnnanBBBBBDBBBBnnnaan
DDDdDnBnBBBlBBBBBanDDUa
DjanBBaan3:^nBBBBnziD3ian
Qcn:jiBBaG:3aBnnBmBDnDD:i
ODaaBBBBZiBaaa-iBaanoBaQn
DaDaDBBBGI3ElB:3BBBB-^BI.:a
uuGBannaa^BaaDBBBBDDnaa
GL'BaiJBBBBnijanaaBBamGDn
pDGa~BaBBaaiBBDBB['jraaBn
LjunninaBB'aiiBHaiBurBBiiu.ii
I
cc[;niaBcaGcnrcr:oaa,rag
nij nn!33BBBnBDaannDGnDT]r]3
n^o-i-]gaccBCBBannDnnjanLi
CiraHBBB^irjBi^BaBBBDDaGnn;^
EaaiiBBaaiaGDBaaaaDnDDnO
[jcBaBBiaBuaa[jDaaaBa3niin
ULju^DDcaaDBB^unnanncrna
Djnu:]BBB:juBBBaaaGaajnntj
aan^BBBBcaDBBDijazjajaDnr
pnnaaaacnBDBaBnnnnnnDr nacB
LDOBBaanDBDaBBorcnDDLiL.
unBBBBCDUBCCiijBBiiajc^naaL;
BBBBannnDBaacQanDacnGap
|BB::a3:DaDBLIBBBDGDaDUDg
DnDDCCCBBBCBBBBBCUCCUnq
uji:iGDDBBBBnaBBBBn:2c:::aaa
riiTCDDcaBBBBaBBBcaBcncna
Un:rDGDBBBBCCUCBBBBBGS05
CDODnBGGBDDBBDDBBBBDOng
Fig. 14. UDDBBOBBBDBaEianBBHBDaGC

DaBBaaBBDBBBBBBBBaDDGDC
DDBBaanDBBBBBDaBBBDaanL
^gaDBBQaaaDBaaBiaaDGnDc
^DDnDDDDDDBBanD'
laaaaanc
IBBBDDnr
in.^CDDqaDaanaaBBBDnnnnc
;accDcDODaaBDQ3aDDDC3a
iLaaaaaaqDaaa ,

:cDC.;'guaaa3BBaBaaoc;aor.L'
DuCaLCUUGQaBBaaaBBC'caa?
When worked, this pattera
will be found to be at once taste.
ful
for
ting
and showy. It is suitabli
any piece of crochet or net-
for which bordering may
i
be required. For crochet night-
caps it is very appropriate.

BKAmiKO PATTERN.
 WORK DEPABTMEXT. 469

the end of the S. Knit 17 rows, without nar-

HUNTING GLOVES. rowing, biud off.

They are to be knit with steel needles, aud, Now work on again where you left the mitten,
as the plate shows, the right-hand glove lias pick up the 8 stitches you set up on the thumb,
uo tips to the lingers. and knit 4 rows, narrow 1 stitch on beginning
up 7G stitches. Knit 2 stitches right,
Set aud end of the 8 stitches then knit 22 rows, ;

and two wrong all the way round continue to ; without either widening or narrowing. Now
do so until you have CO rows. Half of this divide the stitches for the four fingers, aud
knitting is to be turned over to form the double begin to put all the stitches on two needles.
cuff. After the 60 rows, knit 2 rows right aud Take another needle, knit off 10 stitches take ;

2 rows wrong, 2 rows right, 2 rows wrong, 2 another needle, set up 12 stitches. Knit 10
rows right then begin the glove. It is like
; stitches off' from the second needle of the
the fingers knit 1 right, 1 wrong but the
: ; mitten, which you have not taken off yet.
stitches must be twisted as you take them up Knit these 32 stitches in a rounding. 1st row.
to knit. Work now 3 rows of 1 stitch right, Narrow on beginning and end of the 12 stitches.
and 1 wrong. 2d.
Narrow 1 stitch only on the end of the 12

I
4(A row. Widen 1 stitch, knit 3 stitches, stitches. Zd. Narrow on beginning and end
widen 1, knit the rest of the row without widen- of the 12 stitches. Knit 25 stitches. You have
ing. Knit 2 rows, widen again at the same now 25 rows ; then biud off. On the middle
places ; but this time you have 5 stitches to finger take the 12 stitches up first which you
knit between the widenings. set up on the first finger. Knit 10 stitches off

Widen at the same places 8 times. Knit 2 the first needle, the same as on the other fin-

rows between each of the first 4 widenings ;

gers. Take another needle, set up 12 stitches ;

then knit three rows between each of the rest. take another, knit off 10 stitches on the opposite
This widening forms the beginning of the side from it, and knit in a rounding (there are
thumb. Now knit the thumb itself. Take up 44 stitches), narrow the first 4 rows on each
the 25 stitches which are between the widening side of the 12 stitches on beginning and end.
stitches. Divide on two needles, and cast 8 Narrow 4 in each row in 4 rows IG stitches.
;

stitches on a third needle. Knit 3 rows, nar- This leaves you 28 stitches on the finger. Knit
row 1, stitch on beginning aud end of the 8 30 rows without narrowing, aud bind off the
stitches you hiive set up. Knit 3 rows, narrow third finger.
the same way. Knit 2 rows, narrow 1 stitch on Take up the 12 stitqhes yon set up for middle
470 qodey's lady's book and magazine.

finger. Knit 10 off, set up 10, knit 10 off from opposite each other, that it may hang level.
the other needle. You have 42 stitches in this Find the length of cord requisite for its sus-
rounding 4 first rows narrow on beginning
; pension, and fasten the ends into the holes by
and end of the 10th and 12th stitches. You passing them through from the outside, and
will liave 2G stitches left. Knit 23 rows, bind off. making a firm knot at the ends. It should be
For the little finger, pick up tlie 10 stitches a strong scarlet worsted cord.
you up on third finger. Knit off the rest of
set Spread upon the pot a thick layer of putty,
you have on the other two needles,
the stitches and fasten the cones to it by pressing them
and narrow the first 3 rows on beginning and into it. If there is a hole in the centre of the
end of the ten stitches. Knit 19 rows, and bottom, stop it up with the patty.
Put a large
bind off. pitch pine cone in the centre of the bottom
The left glove is knit in the same way, only and a row of acorns, or small cones
around iL
the fingers must be longer, and have tips. On Put a row around the top of the
of large acorns
thumb of right hand you have 17 rows knit pot, with the points up then a row of cups
;

after the rounding. below them another row In the same way at
:

On left hand knit 30 rows, then narrow off the bottom of the pot, but with the points
6 times in 1 row. Knit 2 rows over, and end downward. Now between these, half-way down
off the same as in a stocking. First finger, knit the side, put round a row of large acorns, lay-
3(j rows, narrow off. Middle finger, knit 40 ing the point of each on the cup of the last
rows, narrow off. On third finger, knit 34 acorn, and each side of these put a row of pine
rows, narrow off. Little finger, knit 26 rows, scales, outside of them on the
laying the
narrow off. On the back of the hand work 3 putty. These will form quite a wreath around
rows of cross stitch in fancy colored zejjhjr. the vase. Cover the remainder of the flower-
pot with small acorns, cones, and scales. Give
it two coats, or one very thick coat of furniture
RUSTIC ORNAMENTS. varnish.
HANGIXO VASE. When suspended in a window, with a myrtle
Procuke an earthen flower-pot five or six or some other trailing plant growing in it, this
inches deep, that is not glazed on the outside. vase makes quite a pleasing ornament, attract-
Just below the brim (with a shoemaker's awl, ing the notice of passers-by as well as of those
or something similar) make two holes exactly within doors.

EMDKOIPERY.

4
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 471

CKOCnRT TRIMMIXO.

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A NEW STYLE OF GIRDLE.

Tnrs girdle forms a pointed basqne both bacli with chenille, narrow velvet, and a qniUing of
and front, with long ends flowing from the left black ribbon.
side. It is composed of black lace, trimmed
VOL. ixvii. 38
472 godet's lady's book and magazine.

CORNER FOR A HANDKER-

CHIEF.
To be traced on the cambric,
and worked with embroidery cot-
ton, Nos. 50 and 60.
The outer wreath of this de-
sign must be worked in satin-
stitch ; the edges of the ribbon
have the black lines entirely cut
away, after the bars of overcast
stitch and the English spots are
worked. The small flowers are
also in satin-stitch, as is one of
the initials. The other is done in
graduated eyelet-holes.
This design may be enlarged
considerably, if desired. I^Sm
We may notice, en passant, that
collars, sleeves, handkerchiefs,
and every other article of lingerie,
are now worked in Paris in scarlet,
or other colored cotton whether ;

anything can ever be so pretty as

white we may be permitted to
doubt.

BBAIDIICO PAITEBN. EMBROIDERY.



WORE DEPARTMKXT. 473

the shape and size of the round of your watch.

THE WATCH PINCUSHION. Be careful not to make this too thick, as it
Tuis pretty little article lias much the ap- woald spoil your work to have it clumsy, and
pearance of a gold watch set with turquoise. It fl.at watches are fashionable. Then take a very
is made iu the foUowin;; way : narrow ribbon exactly of the same color you
Two rounds are to be cut out in cardboard, have been using before, aud sew it round the
the size of oar illustration. This is best done front of your watch after which, put iu your
;

with the help of a pair of compasses, as it is flannel, already prepared, and sew in the back

necessary that they should be very exact. exactly in the same way. The stitches should
Then take two small pieces of maize-tiuted be very small, and a very fine silk ought to bo
ribbon, or gold-colored silk, aud cut them round used. It may, perhaps, be rather difficult to

a little larger, so that they may well wrap over procure a good ribbon sufficiently narrow for
the edges of the cardboard then fasten them
; the edge, as it ought to be rather less than a
on with stitches at the back all round, from quarter of an inch in width but it does quite as
;

one side to the other, so that they may be not well to fold one in two, which makes it stronger.
only quite secure, but fl.it on the face, and When the watch pincushion is thus formed,
smooth on the edges. Then draw in with In- it only remains to finish it off with what appears

dian ink, the face of the watch, and sew on onu to be the gold setting of the turquoise. For

small black bead in the centre.
ought to be very neatly put in.
When the two rounds of cardboard have been
thus covered, and the face of the watch drawn
in, the turquoise beads are next to be arranged
round the edges of both, as well as in the cen-
The figures this purpose, the gold thread must be taken
and carefully carried all round the little clusters
of beads, and on from one cluster to another,
covering the stitches round the edge. The
beads in our pattern are very small, and of a
bright turquoise color but if there should be
;

tral ornament at the back. Then a gold thread any difficulty in procuring them of the same
is to be taken and carried neatly iu and out, size, and some a little larger are taken instead,

according to the pattern, round these clusters of then it will be better to use only five, for fear
turquoise. The best way of securing the ends of spoiling the delicacy of the effect.
is to make a hole with a needle just under one It now only remains to take a wire button
of the sets of beads, and putting the ends the size of the ring of the watch given in our
through to fasten then^ down on the wrong illustration, and having cut out the thread
side. Let it be understood that it is only the centre, wind the wire ring round and round
centre of the back thatis now to be finished off with the gold thread as regularly as possible,
with the gold thread, and not the edges of the fastening the ends, when they meet, with a
watch. needle and the maize-colored silk, and without
Then take a few thicknesses of flannel, and breaking off, sewing the ring on to the top ol
stitchthem through and through, so as to the watch, having before taken care that the
make them into a compact form and, having ; join of the ribbon which forms the edge shall
done this, cut them round very accurately to come iu the same place.
474 godey's lady's book and magazine.

POINT LACE. threads cross each other, and the spots are only
17.
placed where the four actually cross this has
;

a very beautiful effect if the horizontal and up-

right threads are considerably coarser than the
other two.

16. Spanish Point. Fasten as many threads EDGING IN WAVY BRAID.

of soft cotton on your work as may be required This simple little edging is formed by work-
for the design, to give the work a massive or ing seven stitches of point de Druxelles on seven
raised effect afterwards work from side to side
;
points of the braid, returning the thread through
with button-hole stitches, which must be worked
close together and quite smooth. The edge
may be finished as occasion requires, with No.
8 or 9.

17. English Lace is made by filling a given

space with threads crossing each other at right
angles, at about the eighth of an inch distance
;

when all are done, commence making the spots

by fastening your thread to the braid, and
twisting your needle round the thread until
you come where the first threads cross^ch
to the loops of the stitches, drawing it up close in
other, then pass your needle under and over the centre, crossing the braid, and securing it
the crossed threads until you have a spot suffi-, with two or three stitches. Miss three points
ciently large afterwards pass to the next one
;
work seven more points iu the
of the braid,
in the same way, until all are done. In filling same way, repeating to the end after which
;

a large space, they would look very well if the
centre dot was large, and gradually getting
smaller to the outer edge, or the reverse way.
18. Open English Lace is made in the same
way as the last, with the exception that four
unite the points of the braid between each loop.
The proper cotton for the point de Bruxelles is
No. 20. The same pattern looks very pretty
formed of a loop of nine points of the braid with
the rosette lace-stitch worked iu the centre.

BRAIDING PATTERN FOR THE END OP A BILK OR MUSLIN TIE.

 WOBK DEPAKTMENT. 475

EMBBOn>KY.

IXSEKTIOX.

BEAIDED SLIPPEB.

Tnis little slipper is made with straps, which [ material is scarlet cloth, and the braid can b
is a very conTenient style for children. The I either of black or gold color.
38*

V
 ; ;;

476 godet's lady's book and magazikb.

Beeast op Veal. Cover it with the caul, and, if you

retain the sweet-bread,skewer it to the back, but take
Iltrngts, ^L off the caul when the meat is nearly done it will take ;

two and a half to three hours' roasting serve with ;

melted butter and gravy.

MISCELLANEOUS COOKING.
Sauce for Roast Beef or Mutton. Grate horse-
Veal Broth. Stew a knuckle of veal of fonr or five radish on a bread-grater into a basin then add two ;

pounds in three quarts of water, with two blades of tablespoonfuls of cream, with a little mustard and salt
mace, an onioD, a head of celery, and a little partdey, mix them well together; then add- four tablespoonfuls
pepper, and salt let the whole simmer very gently
; of the best vinegar, and mix the whole thoroughly.
until the liquor is reduced to two quarts then take out ; The vinegar and cream are both to he cold add a little ;

the meat, when the mucilaginous parts are done, and powdered white sugar. This is a very fine aauce it ;

Berve it up with parsley and butter. Add to the broth may be served in a small tureen.
either two ounces of rice separately boiled, or of vermi-
To Stew Onions. Peel, flour, and frythem gently of
celli, put in only long enough to be stewed tender.
a fine brown, but do not blacken thera ;then put them
Fricassee op Cold Roast Beef. Cut very thin slices into a small stewpan, with a little gravy, pepper, and
of underdone beef; chop a handful of parsley very salt ; cover and stew gently for two hours.
small, put it with an onion into a stewpan, with a piece Beef Collops. Cut the inside of a sirloin, or any
of butter and a spoonful of flour ; let it fry then add
;
other convenient piece, into small circular shapes, flour
some strong broth ; season with salt and pepper, and and them sprinkle with pepper, salt, chopped pars-
fry ;

simmer very gently a quarter of an hour then mix into ;

ley, and shalot make a little gravy in the pan send
; ;

it the yelks of two eggs, a glass of port wine, and a to table with gherkin or tomato sauce.
spoonful of vinegar stir it quickly over the fire a
;
Oi' : Cut thin slices of beef from the rump, or any
minute or two put in the beef, make it hot, but do not
; other tender part, and divide them into pieces three
let it boil rub the dish with ehalot, and turn the fri-
;
inches long beat them with the blade of a knife, and
;

cassee into it.

flour them. Fry the collops in butter two minutes
r
"Winter Soup. Take carrots, turnips, and the heart then lay them into a small stewpan, and cover them
with a dozen, button
of a head of celery, cut into dice, with a pint of gravy add a bit of butter rubbed in
;

onions half boil them in salt and water, with a littld

; flour.

sugar in it ; then throw them into the broth and, when ;

Beefsteak Pie. Take rump-steaks that have been
tender, serve up the soup or use rice, dried peas, and
:
well hung, cut in small scallops beat them gently with
;

lentils, and pulp them into the soup to thicken it.

a rolling-pin; season with pepper, salt, and a little
With many of these soups, small suet dumplings, shalot minced very fine; put in a layer of sliced pota-
very lightly made, and not larger than an egg, are toes, place the slices iu layers with a good piece of fat
boiled either in broth or water and put into the tureen and a sliced mutton kidney; fill the dish; put some
by most persons thought an
just before serving, and are crust on the edge, and about an inch below it, and a cup
improvement, but are more usually put in plain gravy- of water or broth in the dish. Cover with rather a
soup than any other, and should be made light enough thick crust, and set in a moderate oven.
swim in
to it.
Veal and Oyster Pie. Make a seasoning of pepper,
Shoplder of Mutton. May be dressed in various salt,and a small quantity of grated lemon-peel. Cut
ways, but the most usual is to roast it nicely, and send some veal cutlets, and beat them until they are tender;
It up with onion sauce. It is an unsightly joint; but spread over them a layer of pounded ham, and roll
the appearance may be improved by cutting off" the them round then cover them with oysters, 'and put an-
;

knuckle, when it may be called a shield it has more ;

other layer of the veal fillets, and oysters on the top.
diff'erent sorts of meat in the various cuts than the leg. Make a gravy of the bones and trimmings, or with a
The bone may also be taken out, and the mutton stuff'ed ; lump of butter, onion, a little flour, and water; stew
it is very good baked, and is frequently served upon a
the oyster liquor, and put to it, and flU up the dish, re-
pudding. serving a portion to put into the pie when it comes from
TcKNips should always be boiled whole, and put !n the oven.
much after either carrots or parsnips, as they require Buttered Eogs. Take three eggs, beat them up well,
less boiling. When used in stews, they are cut into then add to them a gill of sweet milk. Place some
small pieces the size of dice, or made into shapes with a butter (about the size of a large walnut) at the bottom of
little instrument to be found at all cutlery shops. a pan, pour the mixture into it, and boil until quite
They may he mashed in the same manner as parsnips thick. Pour it upon buttered toast, and grate some ham
but some persons add the yelk of a raw egg or two. or beef over it.

They are also frequently made into a purie to thicken

mutton broth.
CAKES, PUDDINGS, ETC.
Leg of Mutton Boiled. To prepare a leg of mutton
for boiling, trim it soak it for a couple
as for roasting
Almond Cheesecakes. Blanch and pound four ounces
;

of almonds, and a few bitter, with a spoonful of water;

of hours in cold water then put only water enough to
;

cover it, and let it boil gently for three hours, or accord- then add four ounces of sugar pounded, a spoonful of
ing to its weight. Some cooks boil it in a cloth but if cream, and the whites of two eggs well beateu mix all ;

the water be afterwards wanted for soup, that should as quick as possible; put into very small patty-pans,

not be done some salt and an onion put Into the water and bake in a rather warm oven under twenty minutes.
;

are far better. When nearly ready, take it from the fire, Sponge Puddino. Batter a mould thickly, and fill it
and, keeping the pot well covered, let it remain in the three parts full with small sponge-cakes, soaked through
water for ten or fifteen minates. with wine ; fill up the mould with a rich cold custard.
 ;; ;

RECEIPTS. 477

Bntter a pAper, and put 0Tr the mould ; thea tie a a little nutmeg stir the Ingredients well to-
grated ;

floored cluth over It quite close, and boil it au hour. gether, turn (hem into & buttered dish, aud bake for a
Turn out the puddiog carefully, and pour some cold quarter of au hour.
cuKt&rd over it.
A Welsh Puhdino. Let half a pound of flue butter
Or: Balce it; and serve with vlae-sauce instead of melt gently ; beat with it the yelks of eight aud whites
caetard. of four eg^'S ; mix aud the
in six ounces of loaf-augar,
SooFFi.BB PcDDiXfl. Take tflro ounces of sugar, four rind of a lemon grated. Put a paste into a dish for
ounces of flour, two ounces of fretth butter melted, the turning out, and pour the above in, aud nicely bake it.
yelks of three eggs well beaten, the whites also, but
beaten KOparAtcly, a tablospoonful of orange juice. Beat
the whole together, (strain it into a pio-disb,i\rliich mnst
THE TOILET.
be filled only half full, and bake for half an hour in a HpsoARY Water. To one pint of highly rectified
very quick, sharp oven. spirits ofwiue put oue ounce of oil of rosemary aud two
6pAN'i!!>BBrN:9. Take one pound of fine floor, rub drachms of essence of ambeigris shako the bottle weil ;

into it pound of butter; add half a ponnd of

half a several times, then let the cork remain out twenty-fonr
engar, (he bame of currants, a little nutmeg, mace, and hours. After a mouth, during which time shake it
cinnamon mix it with five eggs well beaten make
; ; daily, put the water into small bottles.
this up into inall bunns, and bako them on tins twenty Basdolik-b for the Hair. Crush the pips of the ripe
minutes; when half done, brush them over with a little quince between two pieces of paper then put them into ;

hot milk. a (umbler of cold water to stand all night, when the
Lehom Cream. Two ounces of loaf-sugar. In lump;;; water will have become glutinous aud fit for use drop ;

with these rub off the yellow portion of a large lemon, into it a small quantity of spirits of wine, and a few
and diMolve the sugar in two tublespoonfuls of boiling drops of essence of rose, jasmine, or any other perfume.
water; stir it till it is cool; then squeeze the juice of Or; Take half an ounce dried quince pips, ponr on
the lemon and strain it to the sugar ; stir these well to- them oue pint of boiling water, and strain when cold.
gether. Beat the whites only of six large eggs till to a Should it not be sufllciently glutinous, boil it again, and
froth,then strata these beaten whiles to the mixture of pogrpftr the pips a second time. Scent with rose, ber-
lemou-juice, sugar, aud water; beat it well together, gamot,^ any other scent.
and simmer over a very slow fire for three minutes; OIL OP Ro.sES POR THE Hair. OUvo Oil, oue quatt
then beat up & glass of sherry with it, simmer again till
ottar of roses, one drachm oil of rosemary, one drachm.
;

it is slightly firm, then put it into jelly-glasses.

Mix. It may be colored by steeping a little alkauet
0EA5GE Maumaladb Puddino. A quarter of a pouud root in the oil {with heat) before scenting it. It strength-
of marmalade, chopped fine ; two ounces of butter, melted enaand beautifies the hair.
or creamed; two ounces of white sugar, sifted; two
Pot PocRRi. To make "a perfume of sweet-scented
eggs (the yelks and whites), well beaten and strained
leaves, etc., for fancy jars.'* Mix half a pound of com-
;

one pint of milk. Beat all these ingredients together

mon salt wirti a quarter of a pound of saltpetre, a quar-
with the milk, then crumble three spongecakes into it
ter of an ounce of storax, half a dozen cloves, a handful
line a dish at the edge only with puff paste, and bake an
of dried bay leaves, and another handful of dried laven-
hour.
der flowers. This basis of the Pot Pourri will last for
KaiKRLEs Beat well the yelks of eight and the
years, aud you may add annually petals of roses
to it
whites of two eggs, and mix with four ounces of butler
and of other fragrant flowers gatheredon dry days, as
just warmed, and with this knead one pound of flour
fiincy may dictate. By the same rule you may add, if
and four ounces of sugar to a paste. Roll into thick
approved of, powdered benzoin, chips of sandal wood,
biscuits prick them, and bake on tin plates.
;
cinrianaou, orris root, and musk. A very excellent Pot
Browx Charlotte Pcddisg. Butter a padding mould Pourri may be made in winter with a pound of dried
well, and line it with thin slices of bread and butler. rose petals, bought at a chemist's, mixed with four
These t^lices must be cut neatly, and the crust at the edges ounces of salt and two of saltpetre, on which were put
removed. Take some good baking apples, and cut them eight drops of essence of ambergris, six drops of essence
as for dumpliugs, fill tbe mould with them, putting in of lemon, four drops of oil of cloves, four drops of oil
between the quarters some slices of candied lemon-peel, of lavender, aud two drops of essence ofbergumot.
a little grated nutmeg, and some sugar. Cover it with
bread on which there is plenty of butter, put a small
plate on the top of the mould, and bake it for three hours. MISCELLANEOUS.
A Cheap Seed-Cake. Mix a quarter-peck of flour Good WBirixa Ink.
Gall-nuts, pulverized, twelve
with half a pound of sugar, a quarter of au ounce of all- ouQces logwood, four ounces; sulphate of iron, four
;

spice, and a little ginger melt three-quarters of a pound

; ounces gum arable, four ounces vinegar, two quarts
; ; ;

of butter with half a pint of milk; when just warm, water, three quarts. Mix well for a week, aud then
put to it a quarter of a pint of yeast, and work up to a strain. Five drops of creaaote added to a pint of ordi-
good dough. Let it stand before the fire a few minutes nary iok will effectually prevent its becoming mouldy.
before it goes to the oven ; add seeds or currants bake Makino Lard. Cut the up
;
fat into pieces about two
an hour and a half. inches sqnare ; fill a vessel holding about three gallons
Aerowroot Pcddisg. Take two tablespoonfuls of with the pieces put in a pint of boiled lye, made from
;

arrowroot, and two quarts of fresh milk, mix the arrow- oak and hickory ashes., and strained before using boil ;

root with a small portion of the milk, and when the re- gently over a slow fire, until the cracklings have turned
maining part of the milk has boiled, add it to the former brown strain and set aside to cool. By the above pro-
;

when nearly cold, add the yolks of three egq^i well cessyou will get more lard, a better article, aud whiter
beaten, threa ounces of so^ar, two ouaoes of batteri and than by any other proceas.
478 godey's lady's book and magazine.

To PiCKLK Red Cabbage. Choose a fine close cabbage Cement for the Mouths of Corked Bottles. Melt
for the purpose of pickling, cut it as thia as possible, together a quarter of a pound of sealing-wax, the same
aud throw some salt upon it. Let it remain for three quantity of resin, a couple of ounces of beeswax. When
days, when it will have turned a rich purple ; drain it with a tallow candle. As soon as it
froths, stir it

from U the salt, and put it into a pan with some strong melts, dip the mouths of the corked bottles into it. This
vinegar, a few blades of mace, and some white pepper- is an excellent thing to exclude the air from such things

corns. Give it a scald, and, when cold, put it Into the as are injured by being exposed to it.
jars and tie it up close. To Preserve Celert through the "Winter. Get up
Candles. Take of alum five pounds, dissolve entirely the celery on a fine dry day before it is injured by frost,

in ten gallons of water, bring the solution to the boiling cut ofi" the leaves and roots, and lay it in a dry airy place
point, and add twenty pounds tallow, boiling the whole for a few days ; then remove it to a cool cellar, where it
for an hour, skimming constantly. Upon cooling a will be quite secure from frost, and pack it up with
little, strain through thick muslin or flannel; set aside sand, putting layers of celery and of sand alternately.
for a day or two for the tallow to harden take it from ;
Accidents to the Ear. In case of very little insects
the vessel, lay aside for an hour or so for the water to getting into the ear, they will be immediately killed by
drip from it, then heat in a clean vessel sufficiently to a few drops of olive oil poured into the ear. If a child
mould when moulded, if you desire to bleach them lay
;
put a seed, a little pebble, or any small body of that
upon a plank by the window, turning every two or nature into the ear, it may often be extracted by syring-
three days. Candles made strictly by the above receipt ing the passage strongly with warm water for some
will barn with a brilliancy equal to the best adaman- time.
tine, and fully as long.
To Pickle Green Tomatoes. To one peck of tomatoes
Treatment op Hiccup. This may often be removed add a handful of salt aad enough water to cover them.
by holdiug the breath, by swallowing a piece of bread, Let them remain in this twenty-four hours. Put them
by a sudden fright, or a draught of weak liquid. When in a kettle (porcelain lined is the best), fill up with
it arises from heat and acidity in the stomachs of chil-
vinegar, and set upon the stove until the vinegar begins
dren, a little rhubarb and chalk will remove it. Should to boil, and then set away to cool. When cold, set the
it proceed from irritability of the nerves, ta^*Jt few kettle again upon the stove, and bring it to the boiling
drops of sal volatile, with a teaspoouful of ^-e^ric point. Then skim the tomatoes, and put them into a
elixir. If it still continue, rub on soap liniment' miied
jar, fill up with some new, cold vinegar, and flavor
with tincture of opium, or a blister may be placed on the with mustard seed, allspice, cloves, etc.
pit of the stomach, or sipping a glaps of cold water with The same vinegar first used will do to scald more
a little carbonate of soda dissolved in it.
tomatoes in.
Creah Paste. Break two eggs in a stewpan, with a Velvet. To restore the pile of velvet, stretch the
little salt, and as much flour as they will take. Mix in velvet out tightly, and remove
from the surface all dust
a pint of milk, and put it on the fire, stir it so as not to
with a clean brush ; afterwards well clean
it with a
let it stick, till you no longer smell the flour; then put piece of black flannel, slightly moistened with Florence
in a piece of butter the size of a walnut.
oil. Then lay a wet cloth over a hot iron, and place it
Gold Fish. These beautiful creatures, being origi- under the velvet, allowing the steam to pass through
nally from a warm climate, require to be kept in apart- it at the same time brushing the pile of the velvet till
;

ments of a genial temperature. The water in which restored as required. Should any fluff remain on the
they live should be changed daily, and should not he surface of the velvet, remove it by brushing with a
given in a cold state, but allowed to stand in a warm handful of crape.
room for an hour before being put into the globe; this
precaution may not be necessary in summer. The food CONTRIBUTED RECEIPTS.
given may consist of small crams of bread and small A >*ICE apple-pudding, and one very convenient to
flies.
serve, is made by making small round pufl's of pastry,
To Clean Knives. One of the best substances for and baking them on a flat tin; then fill with stewed
cleaning knives and forks is charcoal, reduced to a fine apples, nicely strained through a sieve, sweetened and
powder, and applied in the same manner as brick-dust flavored. For about a dozen of these, take the whites of
is used. This is a recent and valuable discovery. two eggs, beat them to a froth, sweeten with four ounces

Papering Rooms. Light-colored papers are best for of sugar flavor it with white wine.
; Have a dish filled
bedrooms they look clean and cheerful. Nothing that
; with boiling water on the top of the stove, and pour on
is dark and dingy should be chosen where light and this, froth, and let remain a minute or two until it
cleanliness are so essential and dark papers sometimes
; hardens a little (hen take it off the water carefully, and
;

(five the idea of dirt, when it is far from being the case.
Closets, especially where dresses hang, should be pa-
pered; the lighter the color of the paper, the more
easily are dust and cobwebs detected. In unpapered
closets, chinks harbor spiders, and bits of mortar break
away but when papered, they are neat and clean.
;
Making Soap without Grease. One bar of common
resin soap, one pound sal soda, one ounce borax. Dis-
solve the soda and borax in eight pints of rain or soft
water then add the soap, and boil until dissolved, when
; Having prepared a fresh cold lather, boil them again in
you will have, npon cooling, ten pounds of good soap,
worth from eight to tea cents a pound, and costing only
one cent per pound.
spread it over the apple puffs to answer as sauce.
To Wash White Thread Gloves and Stockings.
These articles are so delicate as to require great care in
washing, and they must not on any account be rubbed.
Make a lather of white soap and cold water, and put it
into a saucepan. Soap the gloves or stockings well, put
them in, and set the saucepan over the flre. When they
have come to a hard boil, take them off, and when cool
enough for your hand, squeeze them in the water.
that. Then take the pan off the flre, and squeeze thera
well again, after which they can be stretched, dried, and
then ironed on the wrong side.
 a

IHtors' ^-Mt.
MRS. ALICE B. HAVEX. standing that her productions have been eminently
successful in their good influence on the popular mind.
Death! What is it lo the loving, trautiug Christian
Does it not seem an inexplicable Providence that Mrs.
wotDftn but a iflorioaa life of biies be^rnu in IleaTen,
Haven should have been called away from this field of
never to be sbadowcd, never interrupted, never ended !
her great usefnlneiis at the early age of thirty-five
" or all the thoughts of Qod that are period when many distinguished writers have only
Borne inward unto bouIb afar,
entered on their career? But she began her work so
Along the P8almitit'8 music deep,
N-w tell roe if that any is, early in youth that her laborious years seem like a long
For gift or grace, surpafising this life.
Jle ffivdh HOt beloved sUep f
' " '

In the varied changes in her lot, married, widowed,

Thus came our thought the beautiful poem of the
to
late Mrs. Browning, when the intelligence reached us
that a sister spirit had departed from our sphere and
ve felt that Alice B. Haven's pure soul had joined the
Innumerable company of the redeemed.
We have known aod loved " Cousin Alice" since she
remarried, and the mother of five children, with all the
joys, sorrows, struggles, disappointments, and successes
; which marked the brief period of her sojourn on earth,
three qualities of character were developed that are only
found united in the purest heroic natnres: a well-bal-
anced mind that can discern the right way a conscien- ;

came a child-bride to Philadelphia, known her in pri-
vate life, and intimately in her writings; she has been
an invaluable contributor to the Lady's Book, and her
loss will be mourned in thousands of homes in our land
where her name was a household word of joy there-
fore, it is fitting that we give her memory an honored
tious soul that resolutely seeks to perform its duties;
and a self-sacrificing heart that can find its own happi-
ness in making the happiness of others. These qualities,
or viTtues;*and their results are thesum of all that Mrs.
; Haven has done and won. She was dis^creet, faithful,
humble she had won a good eminence in this life, and,
;

place in our Table this month: In the next number her as we hope and believe, she has " received a crown of
biography will appear. glory," laid up for those who love the Lord Jesus Christ
Mrs. Haven was a pattern of such perfect excellence and do His will.
in all her duties that goodness seemed her natural ele- Here, then, the worth and beauty of the life and
ment of life on earth to follow her Saviour's precepts
; writings of this excellent and lovely woman are made
and "do His will" was so evidently her delight, that clear. All our young a.spirants fur literary fiime would
even her genius seemed piety at play with childhood, do well study the example uf a literary lady so gifted,
to
rejoiciag always in the happiness it conferred, not in the yet so childlike ia her unpretending simplicity, and so
fame it gained. Among the many American ladies who angel like in her ministry to those who needed her ser-
have made literature a profession, or, at least, a recrea- vices of love.
tion, there isno one whose usefulness and excelleace The power of Genius is undeniable. The glory it

can be more thoroughly admitted. Whether she wrote confers on its possessor is a mighty incentive to the
for the young or for the mature, Mrs. Haven always highest human efforts for good or for evil in this world.
proposed to herself some principle to illustrate, or some How important, then, that the conditions of this won-
lesson to teach and this lesson or this principle was
; derful gift should be rightly understood ! Is the highest
Bet forth with such clearness and kindness that no glory of Genius won by its greater mental power, or by
reader could mistake the meaning or resist the impres- its moral influence on character and humanity 7
better
bIou she intended to convey. At the same time her " Bring me the Book," said Sir Walter Scott, as he lay
bright foncy gave an irresistible charm Co the wisdom on his sick-bed, adding, "there is but one Book !" He
of her lessons, making goodness appear, as it always bad ransacked the literature of the world. " Be good !"
should be portrayed, beautiful and attractive in ita in- was bis dying summary of the duties of life, and the
fluences on human life and happiness. worth of all human endeavor. Walter Scott began his
Mrs. Haven had that rare qualification or rather literary career at the age of thirty-five; he made it
special gift ofseeing and appreciating the beaaty of the aim of his great genius to exalt hereditary power
simplicity. Her style was always free from imitations, while seeking to ingraft bis own name and lineage on the
exaggerations, and tinsel epithets. It was easy to un- favored class. All his hopes and efforts have proved as
derstand her meaning, and yet her penetration of motives vaio and deceptive as are mirages of refreshing beauty
was wonderfully acute, and hei* delineations of charac- to the traveller of That he felt the vanity of
the desert.
ter true to nature. She also knew how "to point a his aims when he Bible as the only Book,
called for the
moral," without poisoning the arrow of truth and her ; and exhorted his son-in law to "be good," as the true
playful wit was never spoiled by any caustic bitterness way of life, can scarcely be doubted.
of sarcasm in the humor. It was evident that she aimed May we not, therefore, claim that right moral infiueoce
to correct errors of opinion or feults of coodnct, and yet on character and humanity is of more worth to this
not wound, personally, those who might feel the reproof. world, even, and deserving of greater praise, xhmx the
In all her writings the tenderness and hopefulness of highest glory of mental power when not exerted for
the loving woman seem to have governed her feelings, moral good? And among American writers of genius
while her !<teadfai^t faith in Christ exalted her genius, may we not give a deservedly high place to the name of
and the study of God's Word so enlightened her under- Alice B. HATEHf
479

480 godey's lady's book and magazine.
ANGLO-SAXON WEDDINGS OF THE OLDEN TIMES.
Ik Tbrubb's "Anglo-Saxon House" we find some
curious information respecting the customs and manners
of the people in those old times very significantly styled
"the Dark Ages." Not till the ninth or tenth century
women have the privilege of choosing or refusing
did
their buHbands. Girls were often betrotbed in child-
hood, the bridegroom's pledge of marriage being accom-
panied by a "security," or "wjgrf," whence comes the
word from which is derived wedding. Part of the tcerf
always consisted of a ring, placed upon the maiden's
right band, and there sacredly kept until transferred to
the other hand at the later nuptials. From this custom
came, no doubt, the fashion of wearing the e7igagement
ring on the right hand, which even now prevails. At
the final ceremony, the bridegroom put the ring upon
each of the bride's left-baud finger's in turn, saying, at
the first " In the name of the Father" at the second
; and were exppcted to do service for another century.
" in the name of the Son" at the third "in the name
of the Holy Ghost" and at the fourth " Amen."
Then, also, the father gave to his new son one of his
daughter's shoes, in token of the trausfer of authority
which he elfected, and the bride was aC once made to
feel the change by a tap or a blow on her head given
with the slioe. The husband, on his part, took aa^oath
to use his wife well. If he failed to do so, s|ia Vl^^'
leave him but by the law he was allowed conkderRle
;
license. He was bound in honor ''to hfstow u-iv^&^wife
and apprentices rnodtrote cnstigntion.^'' We h^e no-
thing to show the exact amount of castigation* held
moderate by the Anglo-Saxons but one old Welsh law
; industry not much more important than Berlin woul
decides that three blows with a broomstick on any
"part of the person except the head" is a fair allowance,
and another provides that the stick he no long'er than
the husband's arm, nor thicker than his middle finger.
Such was the rule of the Christian husband over his
wife the laws of men setting aside or ignoring the law
; continue to read, or somebody continues to read, else
of God as promulgated by the apostlo: "Husbands,
love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church,
and gave himself for it. So ought men to lovo their
wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife
loveth himself." pA. v. 25 and 28.
THE SIN OF EXTRAVAGANCE.
We have before from a sensible and patri-
us a letter,
otic young lady, beseeching us to advocate " an elegant
simplicity" of attire, instead of the prevailing expensive
fashions of dress. Our course has always been in favor
of the former, as the young lady would find if she had
read the "Lady's Book;" the patterns and descriptions
given, and the modes of industry and economy sn^ested
are intended as aids to household economy, enjoyment,
and improvement. Still we know that the love of dress
and display is too much indulged; that "it makes
our women vain, artificial, and ambitions" (as the
writer of the letter asserts), " and has made many honest
fathers and brothers turn rogues and heartless specnla-
tors," we have no doubt. Therefore we give the paper
selected by the young lady as
EXAMPLES WORTH IMITATING,
" English character and habits have an inherent dig-
nity and solidity, which might be copied to an advantage
in this country. They seem to have an aversion to any-
thing like display on ordinary occasions, and find in
simplicity a pecaliar charm. American ladies are sadly
deficient in good taste in dress. Many of them are never
satisfied unless burdened with costly silks and jewelry
for an outdoor costume, and foreigners are uniformly
amazed at the promenade dress of our great cities. A
recent visitor in England alludes to the habits in respect
tit dress and furniture which obtain to the first families
IhiTe, and we know mauy husbands and parents who
would ejoice if such habits pi-uvoked imitation.
I and highly-gifted men. This is a grave question. Haa
;
"In the families of many of the nobility and gentry of
England, possessing an annual income, which of iiself
Would be an ample fortune, there is greater economy
of dress and more simplicity in the furnishing of the
dwelling than there is in the buuse of most our citizens,
who are barely able to supply the daily wants of their
families by the closest attention to business. A friend
of ours, who sojourned not long' since seveal months
in the vicinity of some of the landed aristocracy of
England, whose ample rent rolls would have warranted
a liigh style of fashion, was surprised at the simplicity
of manner practised. Servants were much more nume-
rous than with us but the ladies made more account of
;
one silk dress than would be thought of a dozen here.
They were generally clothed in good substantial stuffs,
and a display of flue jewelry was reserved for great
occasions.
"The furniture of the mansions, instead of being
turned out of doors every few years for new and more
fashionable styles, was the same which the ancestors of
the family for several generations had possessed sub-
stantial, and in excellent preservation, but plain, with-
out any pretence to elegance. Even the carpets in many
suits of parlors, had been on the floors for fifty years,
With us how different is the state of things! We are
wasting an amount of wealth in this country on show
and fashion, which, rigidly applied, would renovate the
condition of the world, and humanize, civilize, and
educate all mankind."
English Novel-writers. This is the way British
I
commenting on their living novelists;
critics are
"The same art which once glorified Fanny Burney
into a celebrity all but historical, is now cuntemptu-
ously treated by witty critics as a branch of female
and it would almost be safe to .say that, for every un-
tiring pair of hands able to produce a Rachel at the Well,
with pink lips and black eyes, worked iu floss silk, you
could find another equal to the achievement of a story
in three volumes. This is what fiction has come to.
Yet though we laugh at it, sneer at it, patronize it, we
even the omniscient Mudie woald jail to crop the per-
petual efflorescence. Out of the miW feminine under-
growth, variety demands the frequent production of a
sensational monster to stimulate the languid life; and
half a dozen inofi'ensive stories go down iu the same
gulp with which we swallow the more startling eff'ort.
But even in its novels the English character vindicates
itself. What is piquant on the other side of the channel
is out of the question within '
the foflV seas.' We turn,
with a national instinct, rather to tne brutalities than
to the subtleties of crime. The horrors of our novels
are crimes against life and property. The policeman is
the fate who stalks relentless, or flies with lightning
steps after our favorite villain. The villain himself is a
banker who defrauds his customers he is a lawyer, and
;
cheats his clients if he is uot a ruffian who kills his
man. Or even, when a bolder hand than usual essays
to lift the veil from the dark world of female crime, wo
give the sin itself a certain haze of decorum, and make
that only bigamy which might b^^ar a plainer title.
Ours are not the dainty wickednesses which are name-
less before tribunals of common law. Even in bis fiction
the Englishman loves to deal with somethiug which he
can satisfy himself is an indictable oflence. This pecu-
liarity reappears in many a phase in the novels of the
day."
German Dramatists. A German writer of celebrity
(the author of " Debitand Credit") has written a treatise
bewailing the want of a national drama, and showing
the causes of this failure, which he seeks to remedy.
He says:
"There are not less than a hundred plays, probably,
of a serious cast, produced every year in Germany, of
which at least ninety perish in manuscript, without
having ever been tried on the stage or printed at all. Of
the remaiuiug ten which do achieve a representation,
there are not perhaps three that are capable of aff'ordiug
the spectator any real enjoyment. And yet amuug the
numerous works that perish without having seen the
light, if some are undoubtedly the feeble eff'orts of incom-
petent authors, many of them are the productions of able
 ! ! !

editors' table. 481

the abeQc of UleDt become endf mlc In GennAny. and
IS dramatic lifo reaUy deal amuog as, alxty year-^ aft<'r
Schiller T A nioro careful examination of Ibis kind of
work* dfncc^ here and there tTOcesofconNlJerahle pow-
er, bat power aotrained, onret^atatod, miD^led with a
fitran^'e nwkwardneas of plot aad acitoQ which in fatal
to the drama."
Thns we flod that play wrltiog has sadly degenerated
io Oennaoy. while aovel writiot? is slokiog la Great
Briiaia. seems that "anlrersal edacatioo" does not
It
awaken original genias; the more people there are to
read the poorer ia the mental aliment offered for their
t;rowih and improvement in knowledge.
The following articles are not needed: "Autumn"
"Lost Hopes" "The Bride's Ease" "Song" "Car-
olyn Lee" {too long) " Weary" "The Dead" "All
is not Gold that glitters" (we shoaid like to oblige the
trio of our young friends. If thearticle was really worthy
of their names; when they have finished their 6f story
they will thank as for declining this) "The Magic of
Kame" " Shells of the Ocean" "The Dying Girl to her
Mother (the writer can do better) " Alice Lando" (too
long; the aathor can have it returned by sending ^ttf
red ttnmps : six cents due on the package) "Looking
Back" " Thanksgiving Day" " Eetrospection" " My
first Interview with an Authoress"-" Over the River"

FAITH, JJOT SIGHT.

"Firrit and Second"
" Two" " At ReBt" "July
Fourth" Angel Whispers" and *' Our Lily."
'
I PRESS my
winding pathway home
"Morning, Noon, and Night," by Zadie. No letter
By and not by ?ight,
faith,
with MS., and therefore do not know the author's in-
Throogh long and tangled mazes roam.
tentions.
From darknc!^ np to light
Other articles are on hand and will be noticed next
Bat in a maze, in darkness still.
month.
The headlands of my hope
Correspondents wishtog replies to their commnnica-
Lift high for me no son-capped hill,
tionsmust be careful to inclose gtnm-pfd enveloj^es : also
yoT shining soutberu slope ;
send stamps, if a return of rejected manuscripts is re-
To beckon on my weary feet.
quired.
And charm my waiting eyes.
Earth shows do certain way-mark meet
To gnide me to the skies
Bat while I try the shadow-lands
!

cirltlj gfprtmtiit,
By ancient pilgrims trod.
Faith comes to place mr trembling hands
Wb take the following useful information, respecting
Within the hands of God !
a new and terrible disease, from that excellent work
And like a timid, trasting child,
EalVs Journal of HeaUh.
Led at his father's side,
I brave the night so dark and wild. DIFHTHERIAl. DISEASE.
The world so cold and wide Diphtheria is now a familiar household word with-
**
;

And feel I fthall not go astray, in a very few years, indeed, it had never been heard of
Bat singing holy psalms, by one in a million of the masses. Its fearfully sudden
Shalt safely moant the shining way and fatal character, especially among children, makes
Into my Father's arms LritiAX. it of the highesit importance that those, at least, who
have families should know something of its nature, its
Trot Femalb Sbminart. We have examined the last causes, its symptoms, and its cure. By examining a
Beport with mach pleasare. One photograph of the 1 n- great many who have died of it, some general fict^ have
Etttation is all we bare room for, but this is a deserved been ascertained, which are of considerable practical
tribnte to the Foander, which we mast give. interest. Neither chemistry nor the microscope has
"It is liow Ji/t J/ ye&Ts stoce this institatiou first opened yet been able to determine that any particular structure
its doors to those young ladies who were desiroas of re- of the body is nuiformly invaded: nor have any char-
ceiving agcaerooBcaltare. ere they entered on tbednties or destruction of parts been fonod.
acteristic lesions
of matbrer life. In its inception it was under the charge
of Mr. Emma Willard, whose name is identified with One thing, however, is certain: the whole masj; of
it ; and for one half the period of its existence it has been blood is corrupted, is diseased, is destitute of those ele-
Indebted to her watcbfal care and faithful efforts. For
ments which are nece-^sary to health ; it is of a dark,
the remaining portion of its history, though not under
her charge, it has still been an object of earnest and grumous, ugly appearance, up every vein andfilling
loving regard. It mast have been with a plea^nre, deep artery, stagnating everywhere, clogging np the whole
Indeed, that she has watched its progress under her
successors, who have conducted it since she resigned it
machinery of life, oppressing the brain, and arresting
into their hands. We trust she may long be spared to the flow of nervous energy in every part of the system.
wiiness ite continaed ancoess.'* No wonder, then, that it crushes ont the life, in a very
few hour*:, of feeble childhood, and of older persons
JTsw York Medical Colleob por Woscek. We have who have but little couKtitntional force.
received a copy of the "Charter" of this new College, " The three most nnivorsally present symptoms of
and find the names of many estimable ladies of >'ew Yorlc diphtheria in the child are: 1st, general prostration of
City and State in the *'
Act of Incorporation." That it the whole systeio ; 2d, an instinctive carrying of the
may be greatly successful is oar earnest desire, nor will hand to the throat ; 3d, an offensive breath.
we doubt that those who have so generoasly began the " Children are almoRt exclusively attacked with diph-
work will sustain it theria because it is a disease of debility a disease which
depresses every power of life benoe the weaker the
To OCR CoRRBspoxDETTS. These articles are accepted, anbject Is, the more liable An adult has
to an attack.
and will appear as soon as we can find room "Maad" : only to maintain himself, the child has to do that and

(the other poem not needed) "Bird Songs" (The arti- to grow also hence it has a double call for a constant
;

cle entitled ' Short Stories" is declined) "Grieving" supply of strength and a very little ileflcit in that
;

"Oar Mother" and "Sonnet." quality of the air which gives vitality to the blood, ia


482 GODET'S lady's book AXD ITAGAZINE.

aafficient to make it a fie subject for a *diphtheritic perhaps done well to remain anonymous. It is evidently
attack. The few grown persons who have diphtheria a first efi'ort, and there is a certain flippancy in its style
have invariably some scrofulous or other weakening which will not redound to the literary reputation of its
eiemeut. ^'either a man
nor a child in really vigorous author. The book pretends to no plot, and is simply a
health is ever aHacUed with
it they only suffer who ; series of sketches of the first four years of a pastor's life
are at the time deficient in stamina have not the proper in a country parish. Though there are many flaws in
power agaiust the inroads of disease.
resi'-ting its excellence, it will not be found an entirely unprofit-
"There is no evidence whatever that diphtheria is able book by such as choose to read it.

'catching.' The matter and breath of it have been

introduced in the eyes, lips, month, arm, etc., of physi-
From Geo. W. Childs, Philadelphia:
cians who have generously hazarded these experiments
upon themselves, without the
THE LIGHT AND DARK OF THE REBELLION.
slightest ill effects what-
When several members One of the many books to which the present war is
ever. of a family are attacked,
giving rise, and which never lack for readers. It is a
it is not because it is derived one from another, but be-
collection of miscellaneous sketches, essays, etc., all re-
cause uf similarity of cons^titution, habits of life, eating,
lating in a greater or less degree to onr national struggle.
drinking, air, and other surroundings.
It has not as yet
The author has evidently had an unusual opportunity
been established that a stranger, going into a family
for observation.
where there is diphtheria, takes the disease.
"The treatment is a well-ventilated room, sustaining
nourishment, and strengthening remedies. From J. E. Lippixcott & Co., Philadelphia:
"Diphtheria is not inoculable; prevails in every O TEMPORA! What amonnt of truth this pamphlet
climate, in all seasons, and is equally at home in the may contain one brief examination does not enable us
princely mansions which, line the spacious and well- to judge ; we can answer for there being very little po-
cleaned street, and in the houses of stenchy courts and etry in it.

contracted alleys. It has no fixed course, may recur CHAMBERS' ENCYCLOPEDIA. A Dictionary of
any number of times, but only fastens on the scrofulous Universal Knowledge for the People. Parts 64 and 65.
or those whose constitutions are impaired, or have poor Only 20 most valuable work.
cents a part for this The
blood ; the immediate cause of attack being the breathing only Encyclopaedia published with illustrations.
of a faulty or defective atmosphere."

From Harper & Brothers, New York, through

fiterarg Sto^i^s.
OwTX^t to the immense increase in the price of books,
we will not receive further orders to send by mail. It
Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia:
ROMOLA. A Novel. By George Eliot, author of " Adam
Bede," etc. This lady author with a masculine iiom de
plume, has just completed her crowning effort. From
depicting quiet scenes in English modern life, she has

never was a source of profit to us, but generally a
on account of the postage we had to pay.
From Petersov & Brothers, Philadelphia:
SHOULDER-STKAP.S. A Novel of New York and the
Army. By Henry Morford. The author of this novel
has alre.idy attained considerable reputation as a pleasing
and attractive writer of sketches. His present sustained
efibrt will not, probably, detract from that reputation,
loss, turned her attention to the past and produced a historical
romance. In which figure some of the noted personages
of the fifteenth century. Florence is the scene of action,
and prominent among the actors is Savonarola, the monk
and church reformer. Tito Melema, the hero, is an
Imaginary person, in whom, and in whose fate, is worked
out the principle of that apparently harmless selfishness
which attempts a life of ease, and avoids as far aa possi-
ble all giving or receiving pain. Romola, the heroine,

though it can scarcely he said to have added much to it. we scarcely expect to find greatly admired among com-
The story is finely written in parts; but, aa a whole, mon readers. There is a grandeur in her character
lacks in intensity of interest, notwithstanding it exhibits which can only be appreciated by those who themselves
in its plot a strong tendency towards the sensational approximate it, and which will, we fear, repel others.

school. It is in this effort at sensationalism that Mr. THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD ; or. Cam-
Morford, in oor opinion, has failed. His observations paign Sketches in Virginia and Maryland. By George
are shrewd and sprightly, if not always sagacious; his F. Noyes, Capt. U. S. Volunteers. This is a clear and
satire keen and caustic; his sentiments frequently
is concise narrative of its author's personal experience as
noble and well expressed while his delineations of ;
a staff-offlcerArmy of the Potomac, during the
in the

character are marked by skilful touches which give periods of various operations, commencing with
its

evidence of their having beea drawn from nature.
SQUIRE TKEVLIWS HEIR.
author of " Veruer's Pride," "East Lynne," etc. The
fertile brain and ready pen of Mrs. Wood have added
another romance to the number which already bear her
name. This book in no wise inferior to those which
is
have pi-eceded it, which it, in truth, bears a strong
to
family likeness. Though possessing no extraordinary
merit, it is yet worthy of the attention of all who delight
in light literature and when once begun, its interest
;
will carry the reader to the end.
From Smith, Esoltsh. & Co., Philadelphia:
THE YOUXG PARSON. The writer of this book has
McDowell's occupation of Fredericksburg, in May. 1S62,
By Mrs. Henry Wood, and closing with the celebrated "mud campaign" in
December of the same year. As the writer confines its
narrative to the relation of such incidents and events
as fell under bis own immediate observation, the reader
need not look for grand battle pictures embracing com-
plete views of those great contests which have rendered
this portion of the story of the Army of the Potomac so
memorable. Capt. Noyes, to use his own words, has
sought "only to portray interior views of tent-life,
common homely experiences, and the everyday personal
incidents of camp and battle-field." In this he has ex-
hibited a skilfulness that renders his volume one of the
most interesting war books we have yet read.


GODET'S ARM-CHAIK. 483

From Caki-btox, New York, through Pbtkrson & of Anatomy In the University of Zurich. Translatod
Brothkks. PItfladelphia: from the German by John Sterling Craig, L. R. C. P. E.,
VICTOK HUGO. By a WUness of his Lifo (Madame L. R C. S. E.

Hugo). by Charles
Tninslalt'd from the orii:iual Frooch THE MECHANICS, MECHANICAL ANATOMY, AND
Edwtu WillKuir, translator of "Los Misenibli's." The MECHANICAL DISrORTIONS OF THE B'>.\Y STRUC-
readers of " Los Miserable^" will flud thlb book a key to TURE OF THE HUMAN FOOT. By J. C. Plumer. M. D.
that remarkable work. Here are Marius and Coselti We recommend and the preceding book to the spe-
this

identiQed with the youthful Victor and Adelo. now M. cial attention ofshoemaker*, as the vast majority of
and Madame llut^o. We are furnished with a faithful peuple will probably, to all time, wear bhuoa of such
narration of tDCidoots and events which wo recognize as shape as the makers provido.
yieldiujf material for Hugo's great romance; and uther
character's besides the two wo have mentioned find their
coaotcrparts in real life. It i.s a book whose title will
attract, iiuJ whose conicuts please.
HUSBAND AND WIFE; or. The Science of Human
GoDET FOR November. We may term this quite a
DectltipmenX throuyh Iiifuri/ed Tmdtncifs. By the au-
sensation number, for we give what the ladies very
thor of "The Parents" Guide," etc. The subjects, argu-
much Fancy balls have been all the rage again
desire.
ments, and aims of this volume are such as cannot be
this winter, and patterns of fancy dresses will bo murh
justly considered in a brief notice. Their examiuation
in demand. To meet this, we give in this number nine
opens au extended field of thought and reflection, in-
colored dresses Hud five uncolored ooos; but with de-
volving matters of the highest and deepest importance
scriptions so elaborate that any one cau make a dress
to the human race, morally, physically, and socially.
from the illnstratious,//ur^''<:?i fancy dros.sc.>, in all. In
We can. therefore, at this time, and in this place, only
a French magazine you may find one or two but Godey
commend it and conscientious perusal of
to the careful
;

has selected from all the Freucli maguziues, and oar

the fathers and mothers of our country, for whose en-
subscribers have the resu't. Besides i\tt} fancy dresses
lightenment, warning, and iustruction it is especially
designed.
we give our usual variety of articles for winter wear.
"Friendship Endangered" is a steel plate of great
beauty of design, and admirably engraved.
From Dtck & FrTZoERAi,. New York:
Our humorous engiavini,' " A Quiet Pl.ice wanted for
THE
FOOtt GIRL; or, Tlie Marchioness and ?ur Se-
a young Gentleman." D<ies he uot seem to have got into
crd. By Pierce Egan, Esq., author of "The Scarlet
the very antipodes of quiet?
Flower," etc. We have not read this novel, yet we are
sufficiently acquainted with the author and his style to
We have devoted a great portion of our illustrated
pages in this number to articles for* fall and winter wea-,
justify as in saying that those who admire romances of
both for ladies and children. The grentest variety of
the highe.-'t sensational order, but of third rate literary
dresses we have ever given in a single number.
merit, will find something here exactly to their taste.

Old Terms. It will be seen by our advertisement

FromTtrKNOR iPiEr.DS, Boston, through T. B. Peter- thatwe have gone back again to our old terms. We
son* & Brothers, Philadelphia: were forced to make a slight advance during a portion
THE AMBER GODS, and otfu^ Sketches. By Harriet of this year, on account of the great ri^e in paper, and
Elizabeth Prescott. The embraced in this collec-
stories of every article connected with our business ; and al-
tion, and which originally appeared in a cnntempurary though but little change has been made in the co^t of
periodical, have already attained considerable popularity the same articles still we return to our old terms, which
with a large class of cultivated minds. That they will have always been so well understood by the public.
ever become as *'hou'*ehold words" with the great mass
of readers is scarcely to be expected. With two excep- Cr.FB Ratks WITH OTHER Maoazines. Godc'y's Lady's
tions, they are emphatically "art stories," deeply sug- Book and Harper's Mai,'azine, one year, b\}^ Godey's
gestive, rich in imagery, and gorgeous iu coloring, but Lady's Book and Arthur's Magazine, one yar, $3 W.
f-eldom atii acting the healthier sympathies of our com- Godey's Lady's Book, Harper's Magazine, and Arthur's
mon humanity. The two exceptions to which weallude Magazine, one year, $(). No cheaper club than this
show very plainly that Mi^s Prescott can, when she can he ofl'ered. Godey's Lady's Book and Holloway's
will, give quiet-toned pictures of life and its incidents, Musical Monthly, one year, $5. For Canada terms, see
which, thongh they may not enchain the fancies of er- cover.
ratic poets atjd painters, will nevertheless attain a wider
and more p'-rmanent popularity with the great majority Otr Card PHOTonaAPHS for Albums We are dis-

f>f th.ise readers who, fortunately, or unfortunately, are

tributing tliese elegant pictures all over the country,
from Maine to California and Oregon, and everywhere
not geiiinses.
PHILIP VAN ARTEVELDE. A they are giving satisfaction. Why ? Because they are
Dramatic Romance
two of the finest quality equal to anything produced. AU
in parts. By Henry Taylor. The thanks of those :

who love trne poetry are eminently due to Messrs, Tick- orders are promptly mailed, and the cards selected with
nor k Fields for this fine edition, in blue and gold, of particular care. Liberal terms to those who bay in

Taylor's exquisite masterpiece. quantities to sell again.

It is from the sixth
London editi-^n, published in 1S52, and contains its aa- SENDiyf) SpRCiME?r NrMFERS. This business, to nse a
thor's latest corrections. very expressive and common phrase, is about "played
out." A party combines, a-id they get a whole year's
From J. C. PLrMPR. M B., Boston, Mass. : nnmbers by sending for specimens. We have traced
WHY THE SHOE PINCHES: A C<mfr{h"ti'>n to Ap- this matter up very clearly, and in fntnr** we send.no
pli^i Anntomy. By Hermann Meyer, M. D., Professor specimens unless under peculiar circumstances.
VOL. LXVII. 39


484 godey's lady's book and magazine.

Kaeb dp yovr Ci.ubs. Remember thatthe Lady's Book OUR MtTSICAL COLUMN.
is the best work for ladies published in this couutry. We
have more than oyie tkousand i>nva.te letters testifying to

The Musical Monthly. The tenth and eleventh num-
bers, for October and November, are now ready and ;
this fact, and the press throughout the couutry is unani-
the twelfth number, completing the volume, will be
mous iu saying that the Lady's Book i the best magazine
published next month. The tenth number contains one
of its kind in this or any other country. The difference in
ofTheo. Oesten's new and charming melodies; a beau-
the club price of the Lady's Book and that of other maga-
tiful new song; and a new and sparkling polka. The
zines is only a few cents, and for these few cents you get
popular song of Beautiful Valley, of which we hold the
nearly one-third more reading and engraviugs, besides
copyright, is given in the eleventh number, as also
other more expensive embellishments that a low-priced
another of Brinley Richards' favorite conipositions,
magazine cannot afford to give. Clubs must be for the
worthy the author of Warblings at Eve, and Floating ou
Lady's Book alone, with one exception, and that is "Ar-
the Wind. In the twelfth number we shall publish,
thur's Hnme Magazine." One or more of that work c;in
among other music, the popular ballad of Poor Ben the
be introduced in a club iu place of the Lady's Book, if
Piper, assung by Ossian E. Dodge, and other vocalists
desired.
at Iheir concerts. The high standard of the Monthly, it
Any person, with a very little trouble, can get up a club
will be seen, is faithfully kept up, and on no account
for the Book ; we have frequently been so informed by
will there be any diminution of effort or expense to
ladies the work is so popular. It is but to call and get a
maintain the character it has already won. We shall
subscription. we are stbte to
Clubs are always in time, as
begin the new volume with a grand double holiday
supply numbei's from the beginning of the year; yet we
number, of which we shall have more to say next
like them sent in soon, to know how many we shall print.
month. The price of the three number.-? issued as above
Remember, that a woi'k with 150,000 subscribers can give
is .00 cents each, or the three for $1 00. Terms of the
five times as much work with only half that number,
as a
Monthly, $3 00 per annum in advance, and all subscrip-
and the embellibhmeats can also be made of a very supe-
tions must be addressed to the publisher, J. Starr Hollo-
rior character.
way, Box Post Office, Philadelphia, Subscriptions may
Our terms are made plain and explicit, so that they may begin with any number.
be easily understood. We are often asked to throw in an

Ntw Shiet Music. O. Ditson & Co., Boston, have jii=t
extra copy. In no instance can this be done, as our terms
published a beautiful cavatina, with recitatives and
are so low to clubs that it cannot he afforded. A shop-
choruses, Madre Pietosa Vergine (Mother, Merciful
keeper would look amazed, if a purchaser should ask him
Mother), from Verdi's new opera. La Forza del Destino,
to throw in an exti-a yard because she had purchased
price 40 cents. Also Letty Lome, new song and chorus
twelve. And yet we are asked to add an extra copy be-
by Geo. Perren, 25. Keep this Bible near Tour Heart,
cause twelve have been ordered. It cannot be done.
by the author of Annie Lisle, 25. We 'II Fight for Uncle
Abe. plantation song and chorus, by F. Buckley, 35.

PosTAOR ON MAyuscRiPTS. Pleuse take notice Our !

Wanted, A Substitute, a bagatelle that will no doubt hit
announcement that manuscripts sent for publication at the popular taste, 2.j. Within the Convent Garden (Bie
newspaper postage-it spems was somewhat premature. Nonne Von Uhland) a song, the music by the great
The Post-Office department, with that charit'tble disposi- composer, Thalberg, 25. Also, The Lark, beautiful

tion that sometimes goverus them, especially if the de- transcription of Heiser'a melody, by Brnnner, 25; and
cision is in their own favor (and by the way we never Merry Wives of Windsor Galop, by Alberti, 25.
knew a disputed point decided in favor of the public), Sawyer & Thompson, Brooklyn, New York, a list of
have decided that it applies only lo manuscript sent for whose popular publications we gave in the August
books., not periodicals. Is not that a nice distinction? number, has just issued another song. Mother Would
So let it be uuilerstood that all manuscript sent for Comfort Me, the words and music by Charles Carroll
publication must have letter postage paid on it. and Sawyer, author of When this Cruel M'^ar is Over, etc., 25
stamps for the same amount sent for its return. This is cents. This also will, no doubt, become popular.
the decision of the first assistant Postmaster-Genet al, in Brinley Richards' compositions are always favorites
answer to a postmaster's inquiry on the subject : among piano-players. We have new editiuns of Float-
ing on the Wind, Warblings at Dawn, and Warblings at
Str In answer to your letter of the 21st inst., I have
popular composer.
to state that, in the opinion of the department, Spctinn 24 Eve, by this Each 30 cents, in
of the new law ipfers only to "Book manuscripts and colored covers, or the three for $1 00. Also, Variations
corrected proofs passing between authors and publisli-
ers,"and was not intended to cover manuscripts from
of When this Cruel War is Over, by Grobe, ."iO. Magda-
contributors to monthly magazines, newspapers, etc. lena, brilliant new fantasie, by the author of the Maiden's
Prayer, colored covers, 40. Les Cloches du Monastere,
Arthur's Homr Maqaztwe. This very excellent and favorite nocturne, 35. Maryland, my Maryland, tran-
hest of the $2 magazines is the only magazine that can .scri La Prieure Exaueee, answer to the Maiden'.^
ption, 25.
be introduced in a club in place of a copy of the Lady's Prayer, Marche Militaire, by Glover, 30. Musings
.30.

Book. at Twilight, nocturne, by Spindler, 30. Moss Basket

Waltz, 25. Down by the Tide, song without words, 15.
Take TorR own Paper. Let n still try to impress this Masked Ball Mazonrka, 2-5. The celebrated Shadow
upon our Kubscrihers. Take your own paper before sub- Air, from Dinorah. 30. An Alpine Farewell, one of the
scribing to any other; it is a duty you owe. and one you most beautiful little nocturnes ever publi-shed, 25. Vol-
ought not to neglect. If yon want the Lady's Book also, unteer's Quickstep, 25. Starry Night Galop, 10. Ingle-
take ihat in a club with your own paper. You will save side Mazouika. 10. Camp Polka, 10. Silver Lake Waltz,
one dollar by the operation. 10. Lily Leaf Polka Schottische, 10. Gilt Edge Polka, 10.
Any music named in this column, or in previous
Anonymous iNQmREBs. It ia useless to write, we do numbers, will be sent on receipt of price. Address, as
not answer. above, J- Stark Holloway.


GODET S ABM-CHAIK. 485

Wb give the following extract from the letter of a Wr aAk attention to our advertisement for 1S64, pub-
ladj la llIiaoi: : lished iu this number. It is but a faint outline of what
"I cau uyver repay you weary hoors beguiled for the wo will du, but will give ^oulu gt'uiial ulea of what the
while peru^iDg your dear Book. Id comes like an old Lady's Buok will bo In fact, it ii< hardly necessary for
friend, aud a trti one the same in adver}<ity, id slclc- as to publish any advertit>ciucDt. Our subscribers aud
uea, and sorrow that it does iu ttuuhhiue aud pro8i>eriiy, the public kuow that we will publish the best lady'b
Hlei^ you for uiakiog it 'the true frieud to the ladies.* book in the world: aud they have known u so loug
"When liviug in a city, I coDsidcred it & ptr/tct ffrm ; that they are willing to trust us, even without any
but liviuk' ID a couiiiry, Tar from any umuscDieots orad- promises on our part. Wc are thankful, very thankful
vantages, you kuow not how hl^'hly I prize it. Some for the patronage we have received fur llio last thirty*

iioagioe that the Lady's Book is nuide for the wealthy three years and we can only add that, having fuund that
;

aloue ; bat I cauuot agree to thiii t all ; for I am not fulfilliug every prumise made has been the beat policy,

rich, yet owu that I love to be neady aud bccomiugly

1 that plan we shall sllU coutiuuo to pursue.
dressed God mde (his world full of bright suushiue
aod flowers. He uuido all things beautiful, aud I think We do not publish medical recipeft, bat the following
It our duly to look aet pretty as we can. I think, with wo clipfrom au exchange. Weave willing to publish
the help of Godcy, any one with a fair amount of tai^te aitylhiug that may be considered a n'inedy for that most
can dress nicely without any great expense. I Diake horrid disease hydrophobia. But do not let any pub-
my dre^ises, t:im my hatis, make headdressets, and maoy lished remedy prevent you from sending for a physician.
fancy artlcloji fiom Godey. I do not see how any lady
HYDROPRonrA Prkventkd- The Prograt, of Lyons,
in moderate circumstances, who does her own tcrk, cau mentions a new remedy for the bite of a mad dog, dis-
do without it. I have read it a good portion of my life, covered by a German veterinary purgoon of JIagdeburg,
and hope to take it myself the vest of my days. I hiive named Hildebrand, by which the painful application of
never borrowed a number yet, and do not wish to lend. a red hot iron is avoided. This remedy consists in
Yet many more eloquent than my p-'or words have sung bathing the place bitten with hot water. M Hildebrand

your praise still none can be moie earnest or sincere." has ascertained by experience that hot water has the
effect of decomposiug the virus, and, if applied in time,
A Takkbb poet thas describes the excess of bis devo- renders cauterization unnecessary. In that case, all
tlon to hl true love : that be done, after well bathing the part, as stated,
is to
I Slug her praise in poetry ;
is to apply a solution of caustic potash to the wound
For her at morn and eve
I cries whole piuts of bitter tears. with a brush, aud afterwards anoint it with antimony
And wipe tktm with my slttce. ointment.

S. EMBRorpRRt axd BRAiniNa

P. BoRDRs'a Excelsior
Stamps. We
have often called the attention of our
readers to these beautiful stamps. They have become so
popular and so well known through the country that it
is hardly necessary for us to make commeDts on their
merits. There should be a set in every town. Dress-
makers and dealers geuerally will find stamping for
braiding and embroidery a very profitable part of their
husineiss, and iu fact every dressmaker and milliner
should have a set. Send and get a few dozen. Price $o
per dozen. Mr. B. fuioishes
ary articles of iastractioas, including inking cushioa
and pattern book.
All orders addressed to
S Ott, 726 Broad way. New York, ha^ opened what he
terms *'Kew York City Purchasing and Information
Agency." We can recommend Mr. Ott to our fiiunds for
making purohai^es and giving iuformatiou. He is the
agent for the celebrated Boardman & Gray's pianos,
Abbolt*s Piano Stools, Fasoldl's Patent Chronometer
Watches, Boolman's Piano Tuning Scale?, and of a hun-
dred olher articles too oumeroas for us to mention.
Send for oue of his circulars.
(free of charge) all neces- Ax EscKM.ENT Babqais. It IS reported that the Prin-
cess Alexandra when asked by the Prince of Wnles for
her baud in marriage, proposed to grant It for twenty-
S. P. Borden, Massillon, Ohio, five shillings, which, said she, archly, is equal, you

or his agents, J. M. Pickering, No. 9C West Fourth Street, know, to one sovereign and one crown in England.
Cincinnati ; Sylvia Harrington, Pot.-idam, N. Y. ; J. M.
Newitt, Cbicitpee, Mass. ; Grace Law, Dixon, III. ; S, A. Not a Bribe. Wo thank the yewport Xtics for the
Childs, Tilusvillo, Pa. ; S. Adams, Battle Creek. Mich. ;
following :
Mrs. C. Shaiiuck, Aurora, Ind. ; Mrs. Julia Bosnell, *' When it Is considered that in no instance htg n bribe
Alleghany city. Pa. Mr. G. W. Pickering, Columbus,
; premium been offered. It shows that the
in the shape of a
Ohio; Mrs. J. li. Wellington, Kingston, Wisconsin; Lady's Book stands fust in the heart of .\merican ladies,
Mrs. W. Kohnke, New Oiieans, La. Mrs. E. C. Borden who work itself, and not
subscribe for the pake of the
is travelling agent. for the The il lustrations this month aromag-
premium.
niflcent, especially the double fashion-plat'^s, which are
I5QCTBTBS have been made of ns who are the authors
continued regardless of expense. No wonder Godey Is
of the following articles :
" John Broiid, *' Aunt fath- "

the ladies' favorite."

er's Warming-pan," Charade In our September
also the
number. In must iDstances we do nut know the authors,
und if known we do not give the names without the
Literary .\63oriATlos3. We now commence in time to
author's consent. Warn our subscribers against sending their money to any
association purporting to farnish the Lady'-* Bok as pari
How TOColor the Photuuraph Messrs. J. E. TiL- of the iuducemeut to Kubscrihe, and promising* them great
Tos & Co., Buston, have just publi.shed a little manual prizes insome future drawing of a lottery. We will not
on the art of painting the photograph, which is for sale bo responsible In any way. We will also add that we have
at the bookstores, or will be sent by them, post-paid, no agents for whose acts we are responsible. We only send
for 10 cents. the Lady's Book when the money is sent direct to us.
 486 godey's lady's book and magazine.
A LETTER FROM PARIS.
An nnusual degree of animation marks this yea.v the
close of the jay season in Paris. At the Tuileries, the
Monday fjimiiy dinners of the Court have been resumed,
followed hy the Empress's snirif^ (Ui/isautes, at which
mansion
social eveuin<f reuuioos the fair mistress of the
has latterly an example of great simplicity of toilet,
set
which the ladies invited have not been slow to adoi>t
and emulate. On Monday eveuiog last, the Empress
appeared in a simple dress of white muslin of the finest
texture, without other trimmiug than the loug floating-
ends of a wide pale blue sash her sole ornament con-
;
rows of magnificent orient pearls round
sisted of eight
her neck, wliile branches of white lilac were tastefully
arranged in her hair. Almost all the ladies present
were likewise dressed in white tarletane, musliu, or
thulle; velvets, moire antiques, and heavier materials
being wholly discarded, as well as such jewelry as
savored t<m strongly of the heated atrnospheie of the
late winter's eute tainments. Instead of the gorgeous
parures there displayed in such profusion as almost to
fatigue the eye, flowers most suited to the season are
DOW the sole ornaments admitted and if a few spark-
;
ling diamonds do venture to shuw themselves, they
must do so merely as adjuncts to the more simple imita-
tions of nature, which it is the good taste of our fashion-
able ladies to pitlronize.
The last great display of diamonds and precious gems
may be said to have taken place at the soirees given at
Mme. de Megeudorff's hotel, where a series of tahltnux
vivants, representing some of the most celebrated chffs-
d'auvres of modern aud ancient had been organ-
artists,
ized for the heuefit weavers of the
of the di-tressed
suffering cotton districts of France. As most of the well-
known beauties of the season were to take a part in
these artistic suirtes, and as, moreover, great secresy
was observed as to who was, and who was not, to ap-
pear in such and such characters, not a little curiosity
was excited, and demands for tickets came pouring in
long after more than the adrai^isible number the rooms
could contain, had been completed. The re--ult, as far
as charitable purposes are concerned, was highly satis-
factory and so, no doubt, was the process of getting up
;
for the taJbUaax, to the parties more immediately con-
cerned. But iu au artistic point of view, it must be
confessed that something was wanting to satisfy the
eyes; and one was reminded in a strangely ludicrous
and almost painful maimer, of a certain exhibition at
Barnum's, the wax figures of which must be impressed
80 indelibly in all our infantine memories, and which the
glare of the rich gems and the profusion of ornaments
and draperies employed, somehow only served the more
strongly to bring before one's eyes. A magnificent-
looking "Judith," coming out from the from Horace
tent,
Vernet's famous picture, which ought to have elicited
our feelings uf admiration, from the complete embodi-
ment of the painter's ideal by the lady who represented
it, was, perhaps, one of the very pictures which most
lent itself to this species of criticism. The face, attitude,
gorgeous draperies all was perfect, all, save that cer-
tain atmosphere which separates the gazer's eye from
the picture he looks upon, and which serves to soften its
crudities. A few gauzy transparencies might liave done
much to tame down this eflfect, and so an artist at my
elbow whi-pered, had been suggested but indignantly
rejected by the fair living models on the evening in ques-
tion, who, having had to prepare long and arduously to
be gazed at a few minutes, were evidently not inclined
to be only half seen, or have any of their charms, real
or artificial, obscured. One of the prettiest pictures of
the evening was Ary Scheffer's " Maiguerite," whose
pDSe and features were wonderfully rendered by the
lovely Mme. Dollfus, the Prefect of the Seine's daughter.
Mme. de Castiglione had, it was said, bten invited, and
consented to take a part and as this lady is equally
;
remarkable for her originality of costumes, and her beau-
tiful form and face, much was expected from her appear-
ance but the spectators were destiued lo disappointment
;
of more than one kiud, for the picture in which she was
to appear was withdrawn for that night, aud it is said
even for the succeeding one, without any apparent
reason.
The second day of the races of Long-Champs was, if
possible,more fully and brilliantly attended than even
the preceding one ; the tribunes, as on the previous
occasion, being filled with well-dressed women, com-
posed of the Hite of Parisian society. The brilliant sun-
shine, the green coloring of the trees, and the charming
scenery which surrounds the race-course, forming, as it
were, a setting to which the heights of Meudon, St.
it, of
Cloud, and the picturesque Mont St. Valcrien, are the
most striking features, impart to the whole scene,
thronged with gayly-dressed and beautiful women,
magnificent equipages, and prancing and excited steeds,
an animation aud a magic effect, to which it would be
difficult to find a parallel in any other race-course in the
World. The Empress was there one of the most im-;
portant prizes of the day being that called the Empress's
prize. Her Majesty was dressed in a very pale gray
taffetas dress, shot with blue, the casaque being similar
to the robe, and the sleeves in front of the latter trimmed
with narrow bands of the same material, edged with
white, placed like brandenburghs, and terminated at the
point of each narrow band with a white silk button, the
whole costume having somewhat of a spotting air. The
bonnet worn by the Empress was of the same shade of
pale gray as the dress, in crepe, very simply ornameuted
by a tuft of black berries or currants. Among the most
remarkable equipages were those of the Marquis d'Agu-
ado, aud of the Duke de Moruy, the latter of whom came
up to the race course in a d' Aumont with four horses
and postilions the latter, as well as the jtujueurs who
;
preceded the carriages, wore bright scarlet liveries,
slashed with gold, with white and gold embroidered
caps, the whole effect being veiy gay and dashing.
Several toilets were remaikable for their originality,
and all for the extreme elegance and good taste they
displayed, giving the tribunes the aspect of an elegantly
filled drawing-room, rather than of a public resort out
of doors.
Mme. Rimsky Korsekow, the Russian Uonne, wore an
English alpaca, of the shade called cuir de Russia, or
leather-color, with belt and trimming of leather, studded
with steel nails, with shining heads ; a straw hat, with
a feather matching the shade of the dress, completed a
very rakish and altogether sporting-looking costume.
Steel ornaments, and steel mingled with leather, both
in the form of plain bands, of horse-shoe trimmings
and other designs, is gradually creeping into favor,
though as yet only ventured upon by way of being ori-
ginal. Some loose cdsnques are to he seen iu the shop
windows, with a small leather pouch, studded with
steel, hanging by a leather and steel chain at the side,
the whole garment being edged with a narrow leather
band, dotted over with steel, aud on these is afBxed, iu
large characters, the word Enylish.


GODEY 3 AHM-CHAIR. 487

I:t the biography of Victor Hugo, Jant pablishcd, ap- It chanced one evening, at one of the great hotels, that
:
pears iho foMowiDjf B gentleman, seeking In vain for a candle with which
A Woman Bbanded. At Parin, in ISIS or 1819, on a to room at a late hour, pa^^sed a
light hiro>>elf to bis
Fummor'd djf, towards twelve o'clock at ooon, I was young lady who had two candles, -if which she politely
pa5sinjt by the square of the Palai^ede Justice. A crowd offered him one. He took It and thanked her, and the
was a-^.-'t'iiililcd thore around a powt. I drew near. To next morning acknowledged the courtr-iy in the follow-
this pust w:is tied a young female, with a collar round ing epigram Luckily fur the poet (for his epigram
her neck and a writiut^ over her head. A chaAoK-dish. would othei wise have been quite pointle-<s), the yuuug
full of burning coals, was on the ground in front of her; lady was as handsome as she was polite;
an troD instrumeot, with a woodeu handle, was placed Too cave me a candle I give y.Mi my thanks,
;

in the live embers, and was being be:ited there. The And add a-^ n compliment justly your due
TIhto isn't a girl in ihoKe feminine rauku
crowd looked perfectly Butisfled. Tbia woman was
guilty of what the law calls duvifstic th'ft. As tho clock
Who could if she tried hold a caudle to you I

struck noon, behind that woman, and without being

seen by her, a man stepped up to the post. I had noticed AoRicrLTFRAL SnriETT pRKMtrM^ We believe that
that the jacket woru by this woman had an opening the Lady'sBouk is the only magazine* offered as a pre-
behind, kept togeth**r by strings the man quickly un- ;
mium by the various societies in the dilTereut States.
tied the.se, drew a^^ide tho Jacket, exposed the woman's
back as fur as the waist, seized the iron which was in
The following we consider a little hnmbugeons :
the chafing-dish, and applied it, leaning heavily OQ the
bare ^boalder. Both the iron and the wrUl of the exc*
How Mrs Bo-vaparth Pi'T.-^ os her Ci>'thk8. A Paris
correspondent thus gossips about the dresses of the
cutioner disappeared in a thick while smoke. This i
Empress Eugene. He says it is univfrsally conceded
now more than forty years ago, but there stiU ringa In
that she is tlie best dressed lady in Europe. She sets
my ears the horrible shriek of this wretched creature.
the female fashions for the world and employs not ;

To me, bbe had been a thief, but was now a martyr. I

only mndUtfs but nriintes to invent thera. Her "depart-
WIS then sixteen years of age, and I left ibe place deler-
ment of ready-uiado clothing" is sumt-thing imraenfee.
iiiined to coDibat to the last days of my life these cruel
To .say thHt she has a new dress for every day in the
deeds of the law.
year wtiuld not bei,'in to convey an idea of the extent
St. Paul. and variety nf her wardrobe. In the front centre of the
A srBSCRiBRR inquires in the September number how ceiling of Her Jfaje^ty's private dressing-room, there is
to clean black lace veils. I recently cleaned siome in the a trap-door opening into a spacions hall above filled
following manner: Put the lace in a dish, and pour with "pres'^es," each containing adre-^s. exhibited on a
over it a mixture of two parts alcohol, and one part
frame looking like an effigy of the Empress herself. In
water, taking care to keep Ibe lace entirely covered ;
a part of these " presses" there is a little railway lead-
then light the liqnid, let it burn five minutes, extinguish ing to the aforesaid trap-door, throogh which the dress
it,and turn the lace relight it, and after it has burned
; is "descended" into the presence of the Empress. If it
five minutes take out the lace, and press it white damp. pleased her Majesty, the dress is lifted from the frame,
Can I obtain from you the February number for IS.iT, and placed upon the imperial person if nut, it is whip- ;

and for March, 1861 T Please answer in the next num- ped up, and another comes down'in it- ]'laco; and not
ber, and oblige A Frie.nd to the Book. unfreqnently tinolher, and another, aii<l another, so
We can furnish the above numbers. fastidious i- the taste winch gives the law to the world
of fashion. In public the Empre.^s nr-ver looks over-
A Skeptic AxitWERED.
Ah," said a skeptical colle-
'*
dressed. A severe simplicity always cha-acterizes her
gian to an old Quaker, "I suppose you are one of those toilet,while everythiug, in material, fit, and color, is
fanatics who believe the Bible ?" Said the old man, " I as complete iu harmony as a sonata of Beethoven.
do believe the Bible. Do you believe it ?*' "No; lean
have no proof of its truth." "Then," inquired the old
Mrsir Reckivi-d "Out in this Terrible War." Words
man, "Does thee believe in France?'' "Yes; for al-
though I have Dot seen it, I have seen others who have.
by Mary W. Janvrin music by H. T. Merrill. Published
;

Beside*, here Is plenty of corroborative proof that such

by n. T. Merrill & Co., Chicago.
11country does exist." "Then thee will not believe
anything thee nor others has not seen ?" " No." " Did Parisian Lady Improver.^*. A French correspondent
thee ever see thy own brains?" "No." "Ever see a notices a new academy in Paris They have lately come :

man who did see them?" *' No." " Does thee believe to the decision that all elegant dames ought to wear th
thee baa any?"' This last question put an end to the hair in the form of a cortogtin descending to the waist,
diacussion. bound in the middle with pink, green, and bine ribbons,
and curled at the extremity in five of those long curls
Thivk or Greta! Nothing can preren tan increase
IT, which we call "cork-screws" in France. It may look
of bachelorism save an amendment in the code of edu- pretty enough but how can tho.se ladies who are not
;

cating women. When they learn common sense instead blessed with an abundant hirsntP crop manai'o the
of broken French when they learn some useful em-
; matter? Let me alsn whisper, as in duty bound, that
ployment instead of bealini,' the jiiano when they ; hoops are worn in two ways some are round, otherw ;

learn to prefer honest Industry to silly coxcombry and ; oblong. S'>me dancing belles present to the admiring
when men find woman is a helpmate, instead of a bur* gaie ft perfect circle a geometrical figure, which the
Af*n ; then, and not till then, may we expect to find ancients regarded as the Ideal of beauty. Others seem
f?wer bachelors. to walk beside their dress, and suggest the impertinent
question which B^'au Brnmmel once put to a duke, " Do
A Lady wishes a receipt for cleaning white kid gloves. you call this thing a coat ?"
39*


4:33 godey's lady's book and magazine.

JUVENILE DEPARTMENT. as
way
I crossing the mountains from that town on my
was
"the front" as a sui'geon and delegate of the
to
United States Christian Commission.
We preseot our young friends with aoother of those An accident to our vehicle forced us my three fellow
cliuice illustrated hymns v/e promised them for their travellers and myself to bale for an hour at a handsome
own department. dwelling on the road the very courteous and obliging
;

proprietor of wliich my companions entertained by ex-

THE SABBATH DAY. hibiting to him such interesting relics of the buttle as
they were carrying away. When they
had done, thegeutlemao remarked that
he possessed something that would
rival all ho had yet beheld and he ;

produced a miniature found upon the

battle-field by a member of his family,
which we all examined with mingled
feelings of tenderness aud admiration.
It was a beautiful picture of tliree luve-

ly children. Our awakened sympathy

was deepened as the gentleman p:o-
ceeded to tell us that the relic was found
in the hands of a dead soldier. The
fatal bullet bad not killed instantly,
but the soldier had expired slowly,
in a sheltered spot, with conscious-
ness vivid how vivid! to the last
moment. He was discovered lyiug on
his back His hands were folded and
resting on his breast, with the open
palms, and the open miniature within
I
them f.iciug his glazed eyes. The sol-
dier died gazing on the loved faces of
his little and two little boys, far
ofl'
-lirl

in their southern home, whom he I

was to see on earth no more.
J. F. B., M D.

Mrantng of Names. The ancient

mythologists indicated their love of
nature by their transformations and
appellations. Thus many of the names
of the women aud meu were derived
from various plants aud fiowers. Thus
Barbara is derived from barberis, the
barberry tree Rosa, from the rose
;
;

It is Snnday evening now, Laura, from the laurel Lucy, from Incus, a grove ;
;

Soon itshours will be no more ;

Rosamoud, from rosa mundi, the flower of the world ;

Have I sought this day to grow Agnes, from aguus, a lamb Melissa, from a Greek word, ;

More like Jesus than before ? signifying a bee Dorcas, arose Phillis, a leaf; Rachel,
; ;

a sheep; Jacintha, a hyacinth; Galatea is milk: Cyu-

Have I loved the Lord's own d^y,
thia, the moon Je.sse, an engraft of a tree; Anrelia means
;

As His pardoned children do, a cotton wood Margaret, a pearl and a daisy; Cecil, a
;

When I knelt with them to pray, heartwort ; and Chloe, a green herb.
Was my heart among ihem too ?

What 80 sweet as prayer and praise.

FoK OUR Fr=;xch Scholars. During theFrench Revo-
When from children's bearts th>^y C3me? lution a ci-devant applied for a passport under the name
What so pleasant as the wayi /''
of *' iVw." *'
Nis said the authorities at the passport
Leading to my Father's home?
office. *' Ormment nis P Have you no other name?'
Happy Sunday if we love " Not now," said the satirical applicant. " I used to be
Him whose holy day it is ;
called St. Denis; but since you have abolished the
Peace descending from above. saints, and foi bidden the use of the prefix Ue, there is

Fills the heart that would be His. nothing left for nie but nw."

An Apfecttno Ishident :
The Laporte Democrat says;
Wat5esboro', Pa. " We are in receipt of Godey's Lady's Book, and mnst
L. A- GoDT'T, Esq , PmLADRi.pniA : speak for it a good word ; indeed, we could not, had we
Dkar Sru: A little incident, additional to the many the desire, do otherwise than speak well of it. One
affecting stories of the late sanguinary conflict at Gettys- thing very remarkable about Godt^y is, that we never
burg,', came to my knowledge a few day^ after the battle hear it mentioned but with respect."


godey's abm-chaib. 489

Torito Ladibs' Skminart poe Boardivq avd Dat SOME HINTS.

Prpite. Mrs. Gertrude J. Ciiry, Vriocipal, Soutli-eattt
In remitting, try to procure a draft, and don't fail to
curuer Sixteeoth aud Sitrure titreels, I'biltidelpliia, I'a.
Indorse it.
The Dlaeleeiith seasiua uf ibiH&chuulcomineuceU St;ptcia>
Address L. A. Godey, Philadelphia, Pa. That is suffi-
br 14tb, 1863.
cient.
The course of stady pan<iied embraces the fuodatneu-
If a lady is the writer, always prefix Mrs. or Miss to
tulaud higher braucbtitf of atliuiuu){b Eaglisb education.
her signature, thai we may know how to addreiM a
Particular atteotioD is giveu to the acquisitioD o( the
reply.
yreoch language, and a resideut Freuch Teacher fur-
Town, County, and State, alway.>* In your letter.
nishes every (acility for making it tbo medium uf daily
If you miss a number of any magazine, always writo
iutercourito. Mrs. Cary gives p'r8uuRl attention to tlie
to the publishers of the magaziue. If Arthur's, address
instruction of ber pupilw, aided by experienced lady
T. Arthur & Co., Philadelphia if Harptr'St address
S. ;

teachers, and the bent profe.ssioual tIent in lb*city. It

Messrs. Harper &. Brothers, New York.
is her constant endeavor to secnreau equal devrloproent
W^hen a number uf the Lady's Bonk is not received,
of body, mitid. and heart, and the formation of babit:> of
write at once fi/r it; don't wait until the end of the
ncatnesa and industry.
year.
Mrs. S. J. Hale, Rev. H. A. Boardraan, D. D., Rev. J.
When inclosing money, do not trust to the sealing
JeukiDs, D D., Rev. M. A. De Wolfe Howe, D. D , Louia
matter on an envelope, but use a wafer in addition.
A. G^dey. Esq , Philadelphia ; R'-v. J. X. Candee, D D.,
Mrs. Hale is uot tho Fashion Editress. Address "Fash-
Galesbiirg, lit ; Louis H. Jenkin-s, Jacksonville, III.;
ion Editress, care L. A. Godey, Philadelphia."
Rev. George I>ulB< Id, Jr., Adrian, Mich.
When you send money for any other publication, we
Circalari sent on application.
pay it over to thepublishcr, and there our responsibility

That la True. "We can always tell whether a lady

Ceases.
We can always supply back numbers.
is a reader of Godey by the way she dresses," says the
Subscriptions may commence with any number of the
/"Wn Aeiw. And he says etill further: "The female
year.
portion of the inhabitants of our land uf liberty have for
The postage on the Lady's Book, if paid three months
the last thirty years been noted for their beauty and
in advance at the office wliere it is received, is /our tuid
taste in the adornment and htrauge to
of their bodies,
a ft(il/ce.n*n for thrae monthly numbers.
tay, they are still advancing. We know of hut one
Let the names of the subscribers aud your own signa-
reason for this, and that is they have been fnruij-hed
ture be written so that they can be easily made out.
the patterns aud, indeed, all the ioformation necessary
for the accomplishmeat of this grand object by L. A.
An Editor thus described in rhyme the patience of a
Go4er "
husband with whom be is acquainted :

Ct7Siot;s EprTAPH. The following epitaph is to be

" He never says a word,
But with a look of deepe-st melancholy,
seen on a tombstone in an Essex churchyard:
He sat, like Patience on an otiomaii,
Here lies the man Richaid, Waitiug for Lis wile to put her bonnet on."
And Mary his wife ;

Their surname was Pritcbard,

They lived without strife; PHILADELPHIA AGENCY.
And the reason was plain
Theyabonnded in riches, No order attended to unless the cash accompanies It.
They had no care nor pain,
All persons i-equiring answers by mall must s-T-t! ;i
And the wi/t toure Ute bretches.
stamp and for all articles that are to be f-'i-ri
post-office ;

Messrs. J. E. Tiltox A Co., Boston, have for sale all

by mail, stamps must be j^ent to pay return postage.
materials for the different styles of Painting and Draw-
Be particular, when writini;, to mention the town,
Art Recreatioss. county, and Slate you reside in. Nothing can be made
ing taught in their book, They will
send a price l.st, if requested, and an.swer npccs-^ary oat of post-marks.
questions, and wilt farui^b, po.-t paid, the btiok for $2 00.
Mrs. J W. L. Sent corsets by express, August 26th.

It teaches Peucil aud Cruyou Dr.iwiug, Oil Painting of Mrs L. W. Sent articles ueth.

every kind, Wax-work, Loatber-work, Water Color Mrs. S. L. T. Sent zephyr 26ih.

Painting, and hundreds of fancy kinds of drawiug, Miss J A R Sent zephyr 26tb.
painting, etc. etc.
Mis^ M. E. C Sent bats by express 26th.
Mrs. H. L. D Sent braid 29lh.
AN" Indiana palper contains the following: J. W. Sent hair ear-rings 2fth.
" As an evidence that this Ladies' Magazine which we Mrs. A. H. Sent hair pin 29th.
have so often spoken of, is somewhat thought of abroad, S. E. C Sent hair ring 29th.
we quote the following from the Li'inbm. Times : Capt. J. W. W. Sent hair ring 2nth.
" A frietid has ^hown U'< a magazine published in
'
the E. P. Sent hair ring 2f>th.

United States by Louis A. Godey. We have examined it Mrs. E. BI. Z. Sent articles by exprecs September 2d.

attentively,and are much ple.Hsed with the engravings R T., Jr. Sent hair chain aud stnds by express 4:b.
and literary matter and such fashion-plates we have
; Mrs. W. D. W. Sent pattern 5th.
never seen in any publication this side of the Atlantic. Miss E. C Sent silk, bead., etc., by express 5th.
How Mr. G 'dey can afford to give so much matter for Mrs. A. H. M. Sent pattern Sth.
'^
about an English shilling we cannot comprehend.' M. E. A. Sent patterns 10th.
E. M. Sent hair ring 10th.
If a yoaog lady faints when yon "propose to her,*' S. B. Sent hair ring 10th.
joa can restore her tu conscioosness by just wbispcnug Miss A. S. P. Sent hair charm l'>th.

lo her ear you were ouly joking E. B B Sent hair jewelry ly K-nsley'scxprcsi 10th.
490 GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

M. C. P. Sent baby jamper, etc., by Adams's express received. iCeither Vie Editor nor Publisher wiU be account-
10th. ahtefar losses tltat mat/ occur in reviitting.
Mrs W. A. B. Sent embroidery stamps, etc. by WelU, The Publisher of theLady's Bouk Las no interest in
Fargo, & Co., 12th. this department, and knows nothing of the transactions ;

Miss E. C Sent zephyr 12th. and whether the sending the order is or is not a
per.*iou

L Sent braiding pattern 15th.

G. subscriber to the Lady's Book, the Fashion editor does
Mrs. D. P. Sent braiding pattern 15th.
S. not know.
Miss M. E. L. C. Sent uetting needles l.ih. Instructions to be as minute as accompanied
is possible,
"Can yon inform me the best way to renovate black by a note and general style of
of the height, complexion,
crape, and A
oblige yours, truly, Scbsckiber." the person, on which much depends in choice. Dress
We
have published several receipts upon the subject, goods from Evans & Co.'s mourning goods from Besson
;

but have not time to look them up. See Receipt depart- & Son; cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from Brodie's, 51
ment in former volumes. Canal Street, Xew York bonnets from the most celebrated

;

To many Inquirers. If we were to give full and par- establishments; jewelry from Wriggens & Warden, or
ticular description how everything is made, we would Caldwell's, Philadelphia.
not be able to give more than three or four engravings. When goods are ordered, the fashions that prevail here
We give the pattern and the design.
Every good work- govern the purchase; therefore, no articles will be taken
woman can work from them, and bad ones would be no back. When the goods are sent, the transaction must he
better off, do matter how long and particular the descrip- considered final.
tion.
To Correspondents. We earnestly request that all oar
correspondents will kindly comply with the following
DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION-PLATE FOB
rules, which are absolutely necessary to prevent con-
NOVEMBER.
fusion in the ownership of MSS., and the purposes for Fig. 1, in the background, is of the style of Charles

which they are sent: Firstly, to write their name and 10th. A dress of mauve silk, made with deep train,

address either on the first or last page ; and, secondly, trimmed with point lace and qoillings of white satin
to state whether their contributions are intended as free ribbon. The corsage is cut square, and trimmed to match.
offerings. The coiffure is composed of white plumes and manve
What we consider almost impertinent is to send a MS. velvet.

to an editor stating that it is " the first attempt at writ- Fiff. 2. Peasant of Alsace. This costnme is composed
ing," and asking pay; requesting its return, if not of an orange merino skirt, with white cashmere waist.

accepted, and sending no stamps to pay return postage. ornamented with blue and orange color. Round the
Lizzie U. will find the waterfall style of headdress in neck is a muslin fiill, with a band of black velvet. A
this number. white muf-lin apron is tied at the right f-ide with a blue
Sailie K .Baltimore, Md. Your letter cost us six cents ribbon. Thp coiffure is a plain white muslin cap, with
postage. You put an old stamp on the envelope, and a band of muslin concealing the hair. The stockings
an old stamp inside, both of which are worthless. are of a deep blue, and the shoes have high heels and

Miss W. The ordinary way of wearing a locket round large steel buckles.
ihe throat is to attach it to a small gold chain or to some Fig. 3. Highlnnd Dress.The kilt is of a bright wool
narrow black ribbon velvet. If the latter is used, the plaid, laid in box-plaits at the waist. The jacket is of

velvet is tied at the back of the neck, and the ends are green clnth or velvet, and over this is a brilliant silk
left long. Narrow silk neck-ties, with embroidered scarf thrown over the left shoulder and tied at the back.

ends, are worn but the small white muslin scarfs are
;
The pouch is of white and black fur. The bonnet is of
more fashionable. black velvet, trimmed with a band of plaid and two
Margaret.
would be quite proper if he were about
It
plumes with afancy ornament in front. Plaid stockings
any place of amusement, when a certitin
to escort her to complete the C"Stnme.
hour was fixed for the performance to commence, and it Fig. 4. Lady of the Court of Elizabeth, Dress of plain-
wonld not be improper in any case. colored changeable silk, made with a very long train.
The corsage is half high, and has a very full and deep
box-plaited basque. On each plait is a hand of gold
gimp, which is also the trimming of the corsage. A
iasli.ns. frill of plum-colored silk, striped with gold braid, forms

a cap or epaulette to the sleeves, which are of green

satin puffed and trimmed with gold braid. The cuffs are
KOTICE TO LADY SUBSCRIBBRS. of rich lace, the same as the high ruff on the corsage.
Having had frequent applications for the purchase of The hair is rolled and puffed, and dressed with a large
jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, the gilt ornament with bead pendants.
Editress of the Fashion Department will hereafter execute Fig. 5. Peasant Girl of Lorraine. A brown stuff
A
comrois^^ions for any who may desire it, with the charge of dress, bordered on the edge of the skirt with a band of
a small percentage for the time and research required. brilliant Magenta ribbon. The apron, which is very
Spring and autumn bonnets, materials for dresses, jewelry, long and full, is of striped muslin, pointed on the edire,
envelops, hair-work, worsteds, children's wardrobes, man- and bound with Magenta ribbon. The pockets are also
and mantelets, will be chosen with a view to econo-
tillas, bound with red. and round the waist is a long red sash.
my, as well as taste; and boxes or packages forwarded The coinage is of blue cashmere, with half short sleeves
by express to any part of the country. For the last, turned up with while cashmere, embroidered with black
distinct directions nyiet be given. j
hn-iid and beads. The brown stuff sleeve, bound with
Orders, accompanied by checks for the proposed expen- I red, extends jnst below the blue sleeve, and the arms
diture^ to be addressed to the care of L. A. Godey, Esq. are covered with long white mittens. The corsage is
So order icill be emended to unless the money is Jirsi cut out heart-shaped iu front, and trimmed with bl;.ck.


FASHIONS. 491

A white casbrocre body reachos t>i the tbroat. A band fashion. Miss Rye writes that the latest fashion maga-
of black velvet, tg wblch lit HttachcU a Jot crusfi, is tied Zkuos of Europe and the United Stales come out by each
rouad tbe oeclc. Tbe coiffure is a white mualia cap vessel, aud ou the streets of the principal towns, whose
with fluted border. sites scarce a score of years ago were the abides of
Fig. 6 A Vcnetinn Ladyi'/OmX^th C-.M/ur]/. The dress savages, are now I'ouud tbe latt-st stylo of Parisian bon*
i of a rich goldoa i7i"iy ', with QontD^ t.'k.wi fucoJ wilh nets, aud the finest flowerci aud lace^.

rabj Telvet. The cotfA^e aod uleevcs aie triiiiiuvd nitU We think we canuot reuder a more acceptitblo service
the same. A small plasUroa of wtiito sutiu burred with to our New
Zealand subscribers, as well as to those
black velvetis oq the f out of tbe coi>at:o. Au etubrui* noiirer home, than by telling them of the charming

dered muslin boK* is at the throat, aud the bleirvc-" are novelties in dress goods now t> bt- found at Stewart's.
trimmed with a veiy deep row ut Vcuetiau puiut lace. Few robo dresses have as yet appeared. The principal
Two rows of peail beads eucirclti the waibt. Tbcjtipuu ones are of a mateiial called Cretonne, of French make,
is of emerald greea sutiu trimmed with three rows of and resembling alpaca. These are to be had of all color-,
goldea m/iiri. The muslin cap. cover-
coiffure is a floe and the engravings of several very beautiful ones will
i'lgoaly the back of the head, aud fiuishiu}{ low ou tlie be in the December number.
Deck with a large haw aod eudit, richly embroidered Never has there been a more ele^'unt assortment of
aud trimmed with lace. The border t>f the cap is of lace, cashmere robts de cfiambre than at this prchont season.
sewed OQ very stiff uet, aod plaited to stand upright, as The grounds arc of the most approved colors, with gor-
represented in our plate. geous Persian borders formed for the robe some having ;

Fig. 7. Omrt /cA<rr. The skirt is of yellow silk or large bordered capes, and other;- jackets.
merino, trimmed with two bauds of the same eolor, or Toile de Valence a poplio-Mke material, laine eoie,
black velvet. The upper skirt aud cor-age are of blue and poplin sole are all new and pretty materials. Some
merino or silk. The skirt is cut in deep points, bound are plain while others have a silk ribbon-like stripe,
;

vUh white silk, aud on each point is a gilt bell. A which renders them very effective. Poplins seem to
pointed bertha is laid over the blue corsage, and each prevail some are all wool, others cotton and wool, aud
;

point should be trimmed with a bell. The cap is of blue others again silk and wool. There are, however, so
velvet bound with yellow, and the boots are of blue many diffeient maks of poplin, that, though tbe goods
velvet turned over with white plush. Both the cap and may bo composed of the same materials, they have not
boots would be Improved by bells. a shadow of resemblance.
Fig. Andalusian L'l'iy The nkirt of the dress is of
8. A very pretty style is what is termed Pekin, a rather
black satin, trimmed with two rows of very deep che- low-priced material, and very suitable for travelling or
nille fringe, with a velvet and chenille heading. The school dresses. The grounds are of all the shades of
corsage Is of a brilliant gold-colored satin, crossed in smoke, cuir, wood, cheveux, gizelle, and other colors.
front with narrow black velvet. Over this is a Figaro They are striped in all sizes and styles, and the stripes
jacket of scarlet velvet, with small slashed sleeves, generally black.
trimmed on the shoulders with large rosettes of gold- Epiiigline ray6 is one of the most charming tissues of
colored satin and drop buttons. The sa^'^h is of scarlet the season. It is plain, but of astoni*shing richness, and
Bilk, trimmed with Thecoifiore consists of a long
gold. has somewhat the appearance of uncut velvet. Another
and rich black lace veil laid in plaits on top of the bead, article, called Nouveaules, is a poplin with detached
and falling over a high shell comb. A spray of flowers figures, gener.illy in stlk, and thou^-h very pretty, yet
is placed at the left side of the head. without the richness of a plain mateiial. Another style
Fig. 9. Lfuis i)re*. A petticoat of white satin,
I6//1 is an all wool poplin, with stripes iu self colors, the
trimmed with three rows of point lace. The rows are stripe being formed merely of a thick coid at short dis-
graduated in width, and headed by wreaths of roses tances. This is a novel aod pretty style.
with foliage. The dress is of sky blue corded silk, made The most elegant, and probably the moat expensive
with a Pompadour wai*it trimmed with a quilling of poplins of the season are the Irish. They are of all
white satin ribbon and point lace. Tbe sle*'ves are tight shades aud colors, and particularly rich iu quality.
to the elbow, and trimmed with a quilling of the silk makes of poplins and
Plaids are brought out in all the
and a ruffle, also two deep rows of point lace. The skirt other goods. They are from the simple lialf inch size
is made with a very long train loop*(l up at intervals,
suitable for children to the large jilaid a quarter of a
80 that it merely reaches to the top of the lower flounce. y.ird in width. They are very brilliant, and comprise
The hair is powdered, rolled, and dressed with a Bmall all the clan plaids, as well as any quantity of fancy
vreath of roses on the left side of the b^^ad. ones. The blue and preen combination, so fashionable
a few years since, is again taken into favor, and is gene-
CHITCHAT rPON* NEW YORK AND PHILADEL- rally preferred to the gay plaids, except for children.
PHIA FA.SHIOXS FOR NOVEMBER. Printed delaines and cashmere d'Ecosse, or printed me-
has been said of tbe English Empire that its morn-
It rinoes, striped, plaided, or powdered with small figures,

drum-beat resounds around the world. But we are very pretty and suitable for children.
IiflS
have lately seen a little newspaper paragraph which In 6ilk.s there is nothing particularly new- Heavy
has reminded us that there is an empire far more uni- solid colored silks, rich mnires,and plaids are tlie most
versal than the English tbe empire of fiisbion. elegant. Small figures, stripes, and such styles, which
The paragraph to which we allude describes the we have bad for so long, have again appeared among
labors of a benevolent English lady named Rye, who the new goods of this bcason.
Iia!> gone to New Zealand to promote the emigration For evening dres.ses we saw a number of light ground
thither of females. They are selected from the humblest chinies, small figures on amber, melon, mauve, sea-
olanses, and sent out at tbe expen!>e of Miss Rye and her green, pearl, and cuir grounds nothing different from
;

friends. They readily find employmeut at high wages, what we have had in preceding seasons.
aud thereupon become forthwith willing subjects of It is, however, early, and we hope yet tube startled
 492 godey's lady s book axd magazine.

with a succession of novelties. The tints this season has just returned from the celebrated Maison Tilman of
ai-ela great variety, and very rich but having in oar ; the Rue Richelieu of Paris, we have the latest notes of
eyes attained perfection last year, all we can say is that fashion.
we think them quite as good as then. Bonnets and headdresses are what Madame particu-
In the Lingerie departiueut of Stewart's we noticed larly revels in; but she has giveu us info;mation on
that the collars were a size larger than last year's, and fashions in general. Bonnets have changed but little in
jiiauy had pointed ends in front. Sleeves are close at shape. In Paris the Marie Stuart is at present the adopted
the wrist, but not tight (mucli iu the style of the Reli- style, though it is not the universal otie, as we see by
u'ieuse which we described last year}, and buttoned op our fashiou-plates. The shapes are exceedingly long
iit the side with five or six buttons. There aie a number from the crown to the fiont; they droop, but are not
of different styles, inauy of them suflSciently large at bent down, and are veiy shallow at the sides. Jet is
the wrist to pass the hand through. Deep lineu cuffs very much used iu the ornamentation of them also ;

will be worn throughout the winter. leather. Theornithological and thcentomological fuvers,
The fashionable style of glove, except for evening which broke out last spring, will continue with in-
wear, is the gant de Swide, stitched with colors, and creased violence throughout the winter.
raade to cover the wiist. A striking peculiarity fur velvet and silk bonnets is

For fashionable bridal trousseaux we find the most rich velvet flowers, with greeu and grasses.
foliage

elegant assortment of laces. We cauuut enter into de- The taste for uatural flowers in Paris, both for bonnets
tail, but will merely state what may be hud in this line and coiffures, has caused the Fiench artistes to almost
at Stewart's. There are points intended to be worn rival nature, so that while walking through the show-

either as shawls, or bridal veils, in point de Gaze, appli-
que point de Venice, and other styles.
tuniques, jackets, capes, also new and
in both black and white laces of all the different styles
rooms of Mme. Tilman, you can very readily imagine
Sets of flounces, you are having a rare horticultural tieat. Koses, lilies,
peculiar coiffures mignonette, heliotrope, chrysanthemums, tulips, air and
water plants, with mosses and ferns, are thrown to-
;

also the mo.st superb assortment of hanJkerchiefsin poiut gether iu rich profusion.
d'Alen^on, applique, point de Venice, Valeucieunes, and Parisian ladies are wearing round hats of velvet and
others. All exquisitely delicate fabrics, costly, it is
other materials. We think, however, that this style

true, but always valuable; iudeeJ much more esteemed will not be adopted iu this country, as our climate is

by age, and particularly appropriate for a bridal parure. too severe, and the style too conspicuous to suit the
American taste.
In search of novelties, we next visited Brodie's, where
Coiffures are this season richer than ever; but it is
we bad a rich treat.Such elegant cloaks we have never
quite impossible to convey an adequate idea of their
before seen. The trimmings this year are particularly
gracefulness and piquant originality.
elegant, and made in They are
sets to suit the cloaks.
formed and mohair braid, arranged in
of silk cable cord Some special commissious were shown us in the shape
the gimp style to fi)rm epaulettes, cuffs, and various of dresses. One, amoi'r-J'of the new shade called Tour-

other ornaments. The cloaks are of the pnktdt shape, terelle, or turtledove color, had simply a quilled black

resembling a gentleman's overcoat. One a rich black ribbon on tho edge of the skirt; the material being of

velvet had a very elegant aud elaborate ornament of itself so rich that trimming on the skirt would have

this gimp work, consisticg of epaulettes, cuffs, aud ob- been like attempting to " paint the lily, or add another
long pieces for the back of the waist. The seams were hue unto the rainbow." The body was made with a
covered by a cnch{ point of narrow black gimp aud Zouave, and vest of the same. The Zouave was cut away
beads, seemingly a trifling affair, but costing from fifty very much iu front, ratlier deep at the back, and cut in
to seventy-five cents a yard. Others were trimmed with three points, or rather rounded ends, at the back. The
heavy chenille braces, fastened at the waist behind by whole was trimmed with a narrow cac/tif point of black
large chenille oruameuts, caught on the shoulders by gimp and beads. The vest was of the nioirt, made quite
ep;iulettes, trimmed with rich chenille fringe, aud ex- long in front, with pockets and a rolling collar.
tending to the waif^t in front. Many were trimmed Another very elegant dress was of an entirely new cut.
with chenille fringes and buttons. Graduated bands, The back of the cor-^age was cut in a jockey, and the
richly finished and made iu setf, was another pretty ends in front were prolonged into two long sash ends
style for the fronts of cloaks. Many cloaks are slashed extending half-way down the skirt, and trimmed with
at the sides and back, and laced with heavy cords. narrow fluted ruflles. The skirt was trimmed with three
Heavy velvet cloths of all colors will be worn, par- fluted rufiies set on in bunches, and separated at the dis-

ticularly the rich blue, with new style of Zouave hood, tance of every quarter of a yard by three bands of ribbon

kept in place by whalebones. laid on plain.

A fawn-colored cloak particularly pleased us. It was Another dress for demi-toilet, also made with basque
trimmed with brown and fawn chenilles, braided and and vest, was trimmed very prettily. On each breadth
laid on the cloak. We noticed that all the cluaks were were bias bauds of silk, with pointed ends, put on in the
fastened with hooks, and the buttons merely ornaments ;
pyramidal style. The bands were about an inch and a
the favorite style beiug a pointed button, with long half wide, and five or six in number. Zouave and
pendants from the points. Scarlet is much used for the sleeves were trimmed to match. In our next we will
trimming of cloaks and for children and misses uothing
; give more minute descriptions of bonnets, which, bow-
is more fashionable than a blue or scarlet cloak trimmed ever, must be seen to be properly appreciated.
with black or white. Scarlet is also the favorite color We hope fond mammas will pardon us if we wait
for opera cloaks. Plain cloth cloaks of all colors are until next month to describe some charming little hats
also to behad to suit the taste of all but space will not
; at Genin's for children. We would willingly describe
permit us to enumerate all the different styles, as their them now but the cruel publi-her insists upon it that
;

name is legion. his readers require something besides our Chat.

From Mme. Tilman of Ninth Street, New York, who Fashiok.
T 6^ E P ^i 11 L % fK\
 f// /// r / > r

C 01;) A ^^^ ;()(!( '(3 iy;S

FROM THE CELEBRATED ESTABLISHJVIENT OF MESSRS. A. T. STEWART & CO., OF NEW YORK.
 F^SHioisrs
FROM THE CELEBRATED ESTABLISHMENT OF MESSRS. A. T. STEWART & CO., OF NEW YORK.
>
SPANISH OPERA HOOD.
 '&{::. ,',;':i::ii;H;!''!/!Clil!::

A FALSE ALARM.
 SAFETY SKATINCt FRAME.
POK BFOlNNERft.

Our reriders can see the proportions in the cut. The bottom of the runners belnp slig'htlx curve*!, the frame (
!sUy mraed in any ilhection. The ends of the runners belne turned up, enables the frame to pa-tf oTer ivny reawnnabl-'
nipedimont, thus savintr it from atoppinc, and beiai; thrown over forwards the long tailn wonld not all"w it to be palle<)
:

Wer backwards. The &t:uter's hands beiuij placed on the hand r;iii, bet'C>sn Us supports, prevent* her from npsettiag tba
nune sideways.
VOL. LXVil. 40 505
 EMBEOIDEET.

DRESS FOR A MISS.

M;ile of Watprloo bine poplin, and trimmed, e7i tnhlier, with bands of black velvet, with a narrow braiding
pattoru between.
606
 EMBROIDEBT.

DRESS FOR A LITTLE GIRL OF TEN YEARS.

The material is Bteel-rolored merino. n-Uh tk b-ir-l'^rinf 'junrter of ii vnrd deep, of a briMiant Solferino merino. The join-
iuif is cuDcealed Ity a wide black braid, ami a narrow braiding pattern is on each side of both. The yoke, caffs, and fcash
are all of Solferioo meriuo braided with blacic.
507
 6 :

6:5

SOS
 THE CAIPE.
[From th6e(>tabIif-bineDt of 0. Brodir, 51 CsDiil Street, New York. Drawo by L. T. Yoiot, from actual
article* of costume.]

This traly servicwible Kftrmeat is one that for winter weather will prove a neplug vUrn style, while the beanty
of the materials commends it to the eye of taste. The cloth from which our drawing in takeu Is chIUmI chinchilla.
This cannot be represPnied in an enpravinp. It presents a fur-like appearance, and is well adapted to the fur
trimming', which is of the chinchilU itself, althoiiirh other fnrs may be employed with equal effect. For -sleighing,
or ekating, this pardesu8 will probahly become a great favorite.
40* 509
THE PSYCHE BUTTERFLY FOR HEADDRESSES.
{See description, Work department.)

SECTIONS OF WINGS.
 INSERTIOH.

. 03% fe 03% 0^%

COIFFiniE HORTENSE.

H?l^

511
 NAME FOR HAEKING.

KNEDTED GAUNTLET, WITH PLUSH CUFF.

FOR VEARIXG OVEK KID GLOVES, DURING VERY SEVERE WEATUER.
(See description, WotJ: Ziepttrtment.)
 BRAIDING PATTEHN.

GENTLEMAN'S DRIVING GLOVES.

(See description, ]Vor!.- ihjiaitmniit.)

513
 CROCHET PELERINE.
rOK PCTTING ON UNDEB MANTLES, OR FOR WEARING AS A WRAP WITH A FULL EVEMIKG TOILET,

(See description. Work Department.^

514
 INITIAL LETTFRS. FOE BKAIDING.

FANCY PEN-WIPEE.

ip a, doll's head and dre?s it, a!> represented in the cat, with pipcesof bri^fht cloth, worked with black, white, and jotd Vads
510
 BSAIDING PATTEEN.

TOILET MAT IN CROCHET.

Corameoce ia the centre, anJ continue round and round, the pattern being worked in every stitch, with the intermediate
pact'i in chain.

516
 INSERTION FOR SKIBTS.

FANCY SPENCEE.

To be trimmed with pufflng*, inserting, and lace.

TOL. LXVII, 41 617
 ' I

COMPOSED AXD ARRANGED FOR THE PIANO FOR GODEY's LADY's BOOK,

By J. STARR HOLLOWAY.

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 EMBEOIDEEY.

SHOET NIGHT-DRESS.

Made with a yoke at the back, and trimmed on the shoulders and down the front with rich
embroidery.
520

GODEY'S
'ai(g s 800(1 m\)i
PHILADELPHIA, DECEMBER,
WHAT A JE^iLOUS MAN SAW ON CHRISTMAS
BY MAKION HARLAND,
CHAPTER I.
Pleasant parlors, comfortably and hand-
somely furnished, cheerily bright with the ra-
diance of lamps on mantle and table, and a
heaping grate of coals all a-glow, as was meet on
a December night an illumination that seemed
to prefigure something of the hilarity of the
approaching Christmas. Scattered through the
apartments, standing, sitting, or strolling at will
from etarjire to picture, from music-stand to
cabinets of minerals and curious varieties, col-
lected to instruct and entertain, groups of young
people of both sexes in couples, trios, and quar-
tettes, chatted and laughed and listened with
the ease and familiarity of a family party.
There was a marked preponderance of the
masculine element in the little gathering, a
disparity which would have appeared singular
to the spectator, had he chanced to be a stranger
to the town of Kingsville, and this his dehut
in the social assemblies that convened in its
classic precincts : one, who did not know that as
the seat of two old and eminently respectable in-
stitutions of learning institutions which had
furnished statesmen and divines for the country
at large during three-quarters of a century its
society could boast not only of the large number,
but the superior quality of the gentlemen who
helped compose it. Mrs. Fay, the mistress
of the hospitable mansion whose state-rooms we
have thrown open for the reader's accommoda-
tion, was the widow of a deceased professor,
who had held a distinguished rank in the
and dying, had bequeathed
college while living,
to his family an honorahle name, no mean po-
sition in the community where he had labored
and ruled, and, withal, an ample estate. It
was no matter of marvel, then, that the well-
41*
Jlaga^rat
1863.
EVE.
appointed residence aforesaid should be tho
chosen resort of ambitious seniors, unmarried
professors, and the better class of citizen beaux,
and when the still comely and winning hostess
and her two fair daughters were taken into con-
sideration, this sequence became a palpable
necessity as clear a case of facts and laws
given, and conclusions deduced therefrom, as
could have been proposed and argued by the
good-looking Professor of Natural, Moral, and
Mental Philosophy, who was, at the moment
we have selected as the starting-point of our
story, husily and happily engaged in looking
over a folio of loose music, mostly sentimental
ballads, with "sweet pretty" vignettes, with
Miss Kate Fay, the elder of the sisters, and his
eyes said to others, as perhaps also his lips did
to her, the more beautiful.
Twice had the Professor and his companion
examined each sheet of the collection very
deliberately, and, it is to he supposed, with a
corresponding degree of care, talking all the
while in alow, skilfully modulated tone, doubt-
less with regard to the object sought, when
EUie Victor, a tricky mischief-lover, paused in
her wanderings through the rooms and her in-
nocent flirtation with a smitten senior, to ask
" Can I help you, Katie ? What have you
lost or don"t you know what you are looking
?
for,Mr. Martyn ?"
"A piece of manuscript music," returned
Kate, a slight flush rising to her cheek, hut evin-
cing no other token of having heard the signifi-
cant last clause of this speech. " Mary !" she
called to her sister, " you had it this morning.
What have you done with it V
" What do you want ?"
Mary glanced up smilingly from her low seat
521
 " "

622 godey's lady's book and magazine.

by the fire. She was about twenty years of occupy more time than might have been ex-
age, witli a sunshiny face, sweet, womanly, pected, probably less than it would have done,

brown eyes, soft and lustrous, and a profusion
of dark hair slightly curling away from a finely-
shaped forehead. If Kate was handsome, her
sister was as bewitching in her way. Just now,
her lap was full ofbon-bons, pink, white, and gilt,
with all manner of fanciful devices upon the en-
velopes and embodied in the crystallized sweets.
These were a present bestowed by the latest
comer, a merry rattle of a fellow, an artist from
the nearest city. He had, as he chose to phrase
it, " run over with the evening train, for a
draught of domestic delight, to be imbibed in
haste and thankfulness ;" had flashed into the
room, like a meteor or a rocket, about ten min-
had it taken place prior to EUie Victor's attack.
He, it was, who retained possession of the
manuscript when the two returned to the com-
pany. As he arranged it upon the piano-
rack with something of a flourish, another
paper slipped from within the opened sheet
and fluttered to the floor. EUie Victor swooped
down upon it like a swallow Upon a fly.
" Here is a coincidence !" she cried, in her
high, merry tones that pealed through the par-
lors like silvery bells. " This is the identical
document I was telling you about, Mr. Beek-
man. I '11 read it aloud. Silence good peo-
ple 1please The attention of this intelligent
1

utes before, shaken hands all around with an and discriminating audience is solicited to the
air of boyish and gleeful abandon asked ; following original, graphic, and slightly satiri-
twenty questions and paid twenty compliments cal stanzas. They are, we may be permitted to
in a score of breaths, and settled himself satis- remark, the joint production of a pair of dam-
fiedly, it seemed triumphantly, to the enjoy- sels at present unknown to fame, but who do
ment of the proposed refreshment, by drawing not intend to pine in unmerited obscurity
up a hrioche close to Mary Fay 's ottoman throw- ; much The poem is entitled, A Christ-
longer. '

ing himself down upon it and pouring into her mas Invitation,' and was designed a a bait to
lap the contents of a little French basket, or allure into our charmed and charming circle, a
box, which he had brought in his hand. fair city belle
.i
" How pretty 1" exclaimed Mary, taking up "EUie!" ejaculated Mary Fay, darting for- BJ
the honhonniire, a gay, graceful trifle of ribbon ward with a suddenness that sent sugar-plums,
and straw. " Where did you get it, Bertie ?" comfits, and candied kisses flying in all direc-
"A fair friend of mine, late from Paris, was tions, a carnival shower of confectionery, " are

the donor. Do you see the inscription on the you crazy ? Give that to me Who gave you
1

card attached to the handle

Sweets to the ' permission to exhibit it ?"
sweet V She sent it to me .'" intensely compla- EUie whirled awaj' lightly as a feather dances
cent. "What are you all laughing at? She on a summer breeze, holding the paper tightly
did! There was nothing ridiculous in her behind her back.
doing so that I can see, nor anything absurd in "Keep quiet, can't you, Molly? Nobody

my transferring the gift without her know- would have suspected your share in the anthor-
ledge, of course to Miss Molly, here." ship if you had not betrayed it yourself. Isn't
" No one intimates that there is anything the gem mine as well as yours, and do you
absurd or strained in the latter application of think that I will consent to have it hidden
the motto," answered a gentleman near, ".-is frojn sight and knowledge forever ? Stop her,
to the original address of the card
" he fin- there, some of you, or you will miss the rarest
ished the sentence by a shrug and a laugh. treat you ever had in your lives I"
" Never mind him '." said Mary, in reply to And the flushed and eager pursuer fonnd
the pretended discomfiture and speechless in- herself encompassed by a barrier of outstretched
dignation of her admirer. "You and I know arms and locked hands, hastily formed about
better than what did you say, Kate?" inter- her in the centre of which magic ring she
;

rupting herself as her sister's appeal reached stood, foiled and pouting, yet laughing still.
her. "The poem Ithe poem 1" was the general
" The song you were copying this morning acclamation.
for Cornelia Blythe
Signer Rossi's new com- There was one exception in the person of
position. Did you finish it ?" Walter Blythe, a young lawyer of Kingsville,
" Nearly so nearly that you can play it tall and rather stately in figure, with a grave,

without difficulty. You will find it upon my intellectual countenance that had scarcely re-
desk, in the library." laxed with amusement amidst all the uproar
Professor Martyu accompanied Miss Fay from going on about him. Quietly undoing two of
the room to assist in the search, which did not the links in the living chain, he approached
 " ; ! a: :

WHAT A JEALOUS MAN SAW ON CHRISTMAS EVE. 523

the prisoner, and said in a suppressed voice " The English prose of which is" explained
" If you have any reason for disliking to have
Mary Fay "that when she cries, it does not
that read, I think I can prevent it." make her eyes and face red."
"Oh, it is not worth a scene!" said Mary, "Thank you!" rejoined EUio. "And now
in the same subdued key. " It is ridiculous comes the cream of the epistle 1"
farrago a
pack of nonsense, that is all I 1 " You know I hate the so-called beau,
meant to send it to Cornelia your cousin. A being born but to provoke uk.
Who thinks, to escape the apes below,
There is no great harm in it, silly doggerel
Wo '11 gladly here to nifmtcf-t/s ynke us !

though it is."
Ottrbeaux are of a different sort
" Silence I" reiterated the self-elected reader,
There 's Martyn, rich in manly graces ;

stepping upon the ottoman Mary had quitted. Wlio by his whiskers is not caught.
" I must preface the delivery of the 'poem,' as Won't fall in love with handsome faces.
you are pleased to style it, by the remark that And Bertie,' with his ready wit.
*

it is an impromptu
From a fount of spirits overflowing.
Railing at those who sullen sit,
" Written for the occasion Good! Goon!" I
Nor enjoy the world while it is going."
cried the anditory, and she desisted from fur-
The executed a profound salaam, lay-
artist
ther preamble.
ing his hand npon his heart with an overstrained
"'Toar Christmas will be dull, of coarse,"
affectation of conceit and deprecation that was
hear you ay iu gentle pity
I
irresistibly mirth-provoking.
'
I promise yoa that nought could force

Me, at that season, from the city.* "And Morris, too, always the same
Spare your regrets by ns, I fear. True nobleman that Nature made him ;

Tour kindly eighs will be unheeded, Tour C02, who honor does the name.
'Though to our hearts your love is dear. The highest praise that could be paid him !"

And sympathy is sweetwhen needed !

Mr. Morris bowed, in response to the bright
But oh what charming times we 'U have
!

Old friends, new friends, and dear dues meeting,

glance dealt him by the reader, a courteous
^Vith merry hearts, and raiment brave. and grateful obeisance. Mr. Blythe had re-
And frank, unfeigned, and joyous greeting. tained his position by Mary's side, still dignified,
We merry group of girls
are a still unsmiling ; his whole appearance indicative
And place npon the list, her
first I of a species of contempt, if not of displeasure,
Of placid mien and glossy curls which the others relished.
at the frolic
Katio our darling elder sister." "I ought to feel flattered, I suppose," he
There w.i3 a pleasant, affectionate murmur of said aside to his neightx)r, as the reading was
applause, and every eye turned to where stood resumed four stanzas yet remaining
or five

gentle Kate a sweet lily that w.is fast being
before the conclusion of the "poem." "I
transformed into a rose, as she bowed with in- should render very thankful acknowledgments
voluntary grace at the unexpected allusion to for the notice bestowed upon so humble an
herself. Professor Martyn looked radiant individual as myself, although I am only desig- a
lieam of satisfaction that was well nigh tiuenched nated as your correspondent's cousin, and the ^B
in sheepishness, or what would have been highest praise given me is that I am not un-
sheepishness in a less handsome and more bash- worthy to bear the same name as herself.
ful man
when his turn came. Some people are born to shine by reflected light
*'
And Laura next over whose brow alone."
No cloud of grief or care is glooming looked np quickly into his clouded
;
The girl
'Twould glad your heart to sec her now.
Her step so light, her cheek so bloomiug." face. "You surely will not take offence at
such a trifle I can assure you th.at a compli-
Lanra Elbertson an amiable, sensible girl,
!

ment was intended, however awkwardly it may

to whom Nature's only gift of beauty was her
have been expressed."
frank, agreeable expression smiled, not dis-
" Undoubtedly The writer is explicit in
I

satisfiedly, at the adroitly truthful compliment.

the declaration that all is said in ray favor that
"J/y blush comes in nest!" the reader in-
could be adduced. do not complain, nor do I
terrupted herself to audience will
s.iy. "The
I claim for myself the possession of any one
please give me due credit for strict adherence
characteristic virtue or attraction, such as ready
to the test, and a lofty disregard of personal
wit or exuberance of spirits, for example."

feelings mock modesty, and the like."
" I understand. That sarcasm, at any rate,
"Ellie our bright and sparkling one is unworthy of you I" And Mary walked with
Whose Bunny face so beams with gladness,
That e'en the pearly drops that run raised head and kindling eye to the other sid
O'er it, caa leave no trace of sadness." of the room.


524 GODEY'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

The doggerel rhymes were all delivered during once, that he was very much in love,and had
aud Miss Victor descended
this little by-play, begun of late to conceive that he had grounds
from her rostrum, attended by the applause of for jealousy. He had been betrothed to Mary
her companions. Fay for six or seven mouths, and while he may
"But it was truly a joint composition!" have failed to do justice to some of her finest
Blythe heard her say in reply to an inquiry traits, he certainly esteemed himself, and was

from some one. " That is, Molly wrote it, I, esteemed by many others, a most happy and
meanwhile, suggesting and criticizing. It does fortunate man in having won her for his own.
ns credit, does it not ?" General observers declared them to be a well-
"Aha!" said Bertie Gwynne, meaningly. matched couple, aud those who knew them
" That accounts for the otherwise unpardonable more intimately did not demur at this verdict,
omission of Miss Mary Fay's name in the although some hinted sagely at his stubborn
'merry group of girls !' " He scribbled some- prejudices, easily awakened and diflicult to
thing upon the back of a letter. " In default overcome at his somewhat hasty temper and
;

of a more worthy mention of one who deserves ultra-fastidiousness upon divers subjects, and
the best that can be said of her, how will this others shook doubting heads over the flow of
do to supply the deficiency ?" native gayety that rendered Mary thoughtless
Ellie read it with an exclamation of delight. at times, and the touch of pride which gave
" Here, dear friends, is a genuine, bona Jide strength and impulse to a character otherwise
impromptu I" facile to docility child-like in its trustfulness

" la torn, her of the glaocin^ eye, and simplicity. As for the betrothed maiden,
Neither of smi1e nor blashes chary ;
she had often said to herself that she loved
With trusting heart and fancies hiiih Walter the better for the trifling differences in
Our well-beloved, poetic Mary.'* their temperaments and tastes. She was essen-
" Confound the fellow's impertinence !" mut- tially social in feeling and practice, and loved
tered Walter Blythe between his teeth, turning fun as dearly as did the vivacious Ellie Victor,
away in ill-concealed disgust from the chatter- who was her own. best-beloved comrade and
ing throng, who greeted the reading of the confidante. Nevertheless, she confessed to a
interpolated stanza with the liveliest satisfac- thrill of pleasure in the consciousness that she,
tion, evidencing either extreme willingness to and she alone, could beguile the grave scholar
be pleased, or that the subject treated of by from his books and briefs, to become a pleased
the " impromptu" was popular with all. "A spectator, if not an active participant, in the
forward, presuming puppy What can she see
! innocent amusements and hilarious converse
to admire in him ? To me, he is simply un- of "the set," in which she was a leader and
bearable !" prime favorite. She was secretly very proud
In this opinion he stood alone, if one was to of her conquest exultation she had the wo-
;

judge from the smiles and gay sayings that manly wisdom to conceal from him.
followed Gwynne 's progress through the rooms. For four months the course of their love was
"You know he is a privileged character," ominously smooth and clear, and neither had
said Kate Fay, in mild defence of the saucy a doubt as to the continued trauquillity of its
favorite, when Walter " wondered" to her, flow. Then came the troubler in the person of
more pettishly than was consistent with polite- Mr. Herbert Gwynne, an early playfellow of
ness or amiability, " that she could listen pa- Mary's, and, as she laughingly owned, one
tiently, much less admiringly, to the flippant of her girlhood's lovers ; artist, poet, aud mu-
nonsense that passed current as witticisms !" sician, who, returning from a three years'
"Privileges how earned, or by whom be- residence abroad, pitched his moving tent for
stowed?" he asked, curtly, and Kate only a few weeks, or months, or years, as his fickle
returned : fancy might dictate, in the neighboring city of
"Oh, nobody minds what Bertie says he is ! P , aud straightway fell, or, as it seemed
such a madcap, and, as we all know, has one to Mr. Blythe's startled perceptions, rushed
of the best hearts in the world." into the very reprehensible habit of running
Clearly Mr. Walter Blythe was in an ill hu- over to Mrs. Fay's two, three, aud four times
mor, and, like the malcontent prophet of old, per week. From his first call, he was adopted
lie considered that he had a right to be angry. into the family circle, for the sake of former
He was not naturally or habitually an unrea-
days said Mrs. Fay and her daughters by
sonable man, and, in extenuation of his present virtue of consummate assurance, as Mr. Blythe
ungenial mood, it may as well be stated, at decided inwardly. For a while Walter was able
 " :

WHAT A JEALOUS MAN SAW ON CHRISTMAS EVE. 525

to disguise, with very tolerable saccesa, liis
irritation at the freqnent aud often most nn-
Wtflcome intrusions of the " travelled monkey,"
as he pettishly dubbed hiiu, upon the seasons
hitherto consecrated to Utc-H-Ute
between the affianced pair. It was compara-
banished the cloud from Walter's brow, aud
hushed his complainings for the time.
The calm was of short dur.ition. The next
evening, upon preseuliug himself in Mrs. Fay's
interviews parlor at the early hour that generally insured
him a brief period for uninterrupted chat with

tivel/ easy to endure these vexations, while his lady-love before the entrance of other visi-

lie believed that they were as obnoxious to
Mary as to himself. At length, he grew impa-
tient of her smiliug reception of the nnceremo-
nious guest, when a polite show of indifference,
or the faintest tinge of annoyance in her de-
meanor would have sufficed to discourage
repetition of the offence. There was a point at
which civility ceased to be expedient, and the
tors,he was disagreeably surprised at finding
the ground preoccupied. The room was lighted
only by the fire the ruddy, uncertain illumi-
nation which they, as is the taste of most other
courting couples, preferred to more powerful
a and steadier gleams, and in the centre of the
dusky glow cast by the blazing coals, sat Mary
and Bertie Gwynue Blythe knew him at a
I

beaming smile, the outstretched hand, and glance the well-formed head and sweeping
;

cordial word of greeting, which the young lady
had ever in readiness for her old pUymate,
verged upon insincerity as viewed from her
lover's standpoint.
beard were seen in profile, bent towards his
companion, in an attitude strongly and unpleas-
antly suggestive of confidential interchange of
thoughts and feeling or, as Walter's jealous
;

One evening, an unusually aggravating

after fancy would have it, of love-making. Gwynne
trial of this kind, Walter felt himself called was talking in a low, earnest tone, and two
upon to expostulate with his betrothed upon words reached Walter's ear as the door opened
the unnecessary exhibition of gratification that "Mr. Blythe ." The entrance of the person
had, beyond doubt, deluded the young painter named prevented further speech.
into the pei-suasion that his coming was most He could not be mistaken, for they were
opportune, and his society the most congenial uttered distinctly ; nor could he fail to detect
that she could have enjoyed. the momentary consternation betrayed by both
"Your kind heart leads you a little too far at his appearance. Mary's voice shook per-
at times, my dearest," he said, tenderly. "It him " good-evening," and
ceptibly in wishing
is very beautiful and amiable in you to exercise Mr. Gwynne's observation upon the chilly
such self-denial, but, surely, iu this case ex- night was infelicitous, and rather too glibly
treme warmth of hospitality is nncalled for, and enunciated, even for his rapid tongue.
attended with inconvenient results." "She will tell me all about it by and by,

" But, Walter" was the ingenuous response, unless the fellow has been talking downright
uttered in evident surprise aud perplexity " I love to her." Walter tried to ease the pain at
was not hypocritical ! I was really as glad to his heart by saying, " and I don't believe she
see Bertie as I seemed to be. His visits always would let him go so far as that."
bring me pleasure." Nevertheless he watched, with uneasy curi-
" Indeed Then I beg your pardon for my
! osity, her shaking fingers and crimson cheeks
mistaken officiousness," retorted the lover, in as she lighted the lamp, a task slowly and
a hurt, icy tone. clumsily performed. He was doomed to wait
" How have I displeased you f Is there any in vain for the elucidation of the little mystery.
harm in my liking to see and talk with an Mary never afterwards referred to the matter,
oldfrtfeud!" urged Mary, yet more puzzled. nor did he.
" None, whatever. I do not presume to re- This was the inconsiderable nucleus of the
gulate your conduct, still less your feelings, in gathering mass of doubt and fearing that grad-
regard to this or any other matter. Only" ually overshadowed the heaven of his trust in

softening into the pathetic " I was so vain as her ; made his spirits variable ; his language
to imagine that there were times when nuj oftentimes abrupt and petulant ; his perceptions
companionship was preferable to that of tran- untrue, and his conclusions unjust. Without
sient visitors, however entertaining they might guessing at the real cause of this altered beha-
chance to be." vior, Mary could not but notice aud be grieved
"Such a supposition argues a moderate de- by it. She surmised correctly, from many un-
gree of penetration on your part, but no vanity, mistakable signs, that her lover had conceived
replied Mary, and her smile of arch affection a prejudice against her old friend, but that he
526 godey's lady's book and magazine.

was, in point of fact, jealous of the position company, to say over the "good nights" so
occupied by Bertie in her regard, and daily- sweet to lovers' lips and lovers' ears.
grew more uncertain as to his own standing in " No, thank you," she said, trj-ing to speak
her never occurred to her. Nor did
aifectious, cheerfully "or nothing but you my love, if
she consider herself bound to avoid an innocent see her, and mention that we cannot give up
acquaintance, because, forsooth, Mr. Blythe the hope of having her with us on Christmas-
happened not to admire him. She said to her- day."
self, that if Walter's dislike were not overcome " Mary ! Mary Fay !" called out Ellie Victor's
by the time of their marriage, her pleasant in- ringing tones. "Is your letter to Cornelia
tercourse witli Bertie must, as a matter of duty, ready ? Mr. Gwynne Is waiting for it. He
cease, or at least be greatly restricted and dif- wants to catch the twelve o'clock train, so you
ferent in its character; until that date, she must hurry !"
assumed to herself the right to select her own With the memory of a stem, reproachful
associates, and to mingle freely with her faceburning in upon brain and heart, Mary
mother's guests. At heart, she was a little hastened to inclose the luckless doggerel in an
sore, and not a annoyed sometimes, at
little envelope, and direct it to "Miss Cornelia
Walter's coldness and brusquerie to her favor- Blythe, No. 70 Place, P . Bt/ Mr.
ite. " He might be civil to him, if only because

he knows I like him !" she argued, in her sim- " I could have told him that Bertie had
ple-hearted ignorance. asked me to allow him and I
to be the bearer,
To-night she had let a sign of this feeling promised that he should, before I knew that he
escape her had spoken for the first time in
; was going to the city," she thought, resentfully,
anger to her betrothed husband for the iirst ; as she put the packet with a smile no one conld
time admitted and cherished an unkind thought guess was forced, into her postman's hand.
of him. " Will he make me desjiise him in the " But, if he chooses thus wilfully to misinter-
end?" she said bitterly to herself, when she pret my motives and to sit judgment upon
in
left him after her retort upon his sneer at every action, I will not stoop to set him right!"
Bertie. Walter's hat and overcoat were so overheaped
Walter, on his part, was amazed, wounded, by others that he was obliged to wait some
and indignant at the unlooked-for rejoinder; minutes in the hall after making his adieus in
less displeased with her, however, than with the p.irlor, before the missing articles could be
The
the cause of this, their initiatory quarrel. found and identified. He was still stooping
more he pondered upon his grievances, the over the commingled mass of wraps, and tug-
more savage was his mood towards the un- ging at a sleeve, the lining of which seemed
lucky rhymester. " Trusting heart and fancies
'
familiar, when he overheard a colloquy in the
high,' " indeed What right had the jackanapes
! door-way behind him.
to know anything about her feelings and fan- " On Wednesday, then, at the usiial place !"
cies ? Was not the fact of his undertaking the saidyoung Gwynne, softly, imploringly. " Do
delineation of her character an arrogation of not fail me ! You do not know how much my
liis ability and the privilege to represent her heart"
properly before the less fortunate many who Walter lost the rest of the sentence, but the
had not had his opportunities of studying her, answer was audible.
this rare missal which he, Walter Blythe, would " Never fear have not I as much at stake
!

have had clasped closely from all touch and as yourself?"

sight except his own " Our well-beloved,
!
' He recognized the agitated murmur with
poetic Mary !' " Blythe's wrath waxed to its wildly throbbing pulses. Careless as to whether
height as he rehearsed and dwelt upon this they saw him or not, he seized his cloak and
line. No other man should, with impunity, call strode out, without waiting to put it on his ;

his affianced wife, " well-beloved 1" soul a seething chaos of suspicion, incredulity,
" Have you any message for Cornelia ?" he and grieved love. What was the clue to this
asked, coldly, when he prepared to leave with thickening mystery ? What was he to believe ?
the rest at the close of the evening. " I shall what to fear ? His noble nature made one
be in the city to-morrow, I think." mighty effort to assert its supremacy in his last
Mary looked troubled. Never before since waking thought, as the dawn penetrated his
their betrothal had he neglected to avail him- chamber after a sleepless night. " Wliatever
self of his prerogative to linger a few minutes, else I may question, I must not doubt her
oftener a few hours, after the departure of other goodness and purity, or her coustaucy to me !"
 ;

WHAT A JEALOUS MAX SAW OX CHRISTMAS EVE. 527

row," he said. "Work, for which I shall not

CHAPTER II.
have time in the morning."
AsoTnER evening found Walter early at Mrs. Was it imagination, or did she start slightly
Fay's. He was expected, as lie perceived at a as he said this ? He could not determine, al-

glance, upon entering the parlor. The lamp though his arm enclasped her.
was turned down to a dim spark, like a drowsy " Did you not go to-day, as you intended ?"
eye indulgently winking at all tender scenes ;
" No, I was unavoidably detained in my
the fire was merry and bnsy, a hundred tongues office."

of variously-tinted flames leaping and quiver- Then ensued a silence of some length, and an
ing over the red-hot bed of anthracite ; his fa- awkward constraint that was not many removes
vorite drawn into its corner, and
chair was from coldness. Whatever was its cause, neither
beside was the cushion, whereon it was
it appeared disposed to recognize its existence,
always Mary's choice to sit duriug their heart- bnt Walter remarked the assumed carelessness
talks. Mary herself met him midway in the with which Mary ended it by asking
room gave him both hands, and lifted to his
; "What train will you probably take ?"
oflered caress a face so expressive of deep, "The 8.20, I think; but my mind is not
true affection and joyous welcome, that the quite made up as to that. I must be early in
legion of doubts that had beset him all the town."
day fight and reason with them as he would Another pause, and he put a question in his

fled away like mists before the glad light of turn.

morning. " Why do you inquire ? Have you any
" You do care for me, then, d.irling !" thought of going yourself?"
"Have you ever dared to believe the con- " I Why, you know I went over twice last
!

trary ?" w.as the retort, saucily loving ; then, week, and I am too busy to run about much
more seriously, she added: "If you are not more before Christmas. To-morrow is Wednes-
secure in the possession of my love now, dear day, remember, and Friday will be the 25th."
Walter, I am afraid that you will always re- arm fell away from
Instinctively, Walter's
main an incorrigible infidel." her waist. He did not need to be reminded
Then, was the time for him to speak
if ever, ; that the morrow was Wednesd.iy. He had
to avow, without reserve, what had been his striven for twenty-four hours to forget that she
temptations, his misgivings, and tortures, but had an appointment with Bertie Owynne on
his courage deserted him. He could not mar that day. He believed now and the thought
the pure happiness of this hour by these gave him exquisite pain that she was going
details. to the city to keep this engagement, and that
For a wonder, they were left to themselves she was chagrined at finding that he would also
all the early part of the evening. A drizzling be there. If Mary remarked his change of
rain was falling, that froze by the time it position, she did not attribute it to any altered
touched the earth, and other visitors kept feeling, for her next words were full of hope.
away. Mrs. Fay was slightly indisposed, and " I never before anticipated so delightful a
had already retired to her chamber, and Kate's Christmas. I was not happy last year. Do
sympathetic heart warned lier not to appear you recollect that we disagreed seriously about
dowi stairs. They talked
loug, freely, and some trifling matter on Christmas eve ?"
earnestly the
two who hoped, at no distant "Yes." He was looking moodily into the
day, to share one united and indivisible life fire, and spoke abstractedly.

talked with a fulness of confidence, an out-
gushing of feeling in word, look, and action,
that neither had ever displayed before. Bertie
Gwynne's name was not once mentioned. This
might have been an accidental omission on
Mary's part with Walter it was, in the outset,
;
a studied avoidance of an ofi'eusive topic, a
dread of touching the sore spot afterwards, he ;
" And how we met at Mrs. Victor's, Christ-
mas night, and behaved like a couple of foolish
children, affecting not to be aware of one an-
other's presence, except when we met face to
face ? You were all devotion to Laura Elbert-
son only devoted swains do not usually look
so savage and gloomy as you did, while trying
to be agreeable and I pretended, I dare say,
;

forgot the very existence of his audacious rival. with like success, to be interested and charmed
Eleven o'clock struck as BIythe arose to de- by Will Beekman's syllabub chat. But my
part. heart was aching all the while for one kind
"I had almost forgotten that I have papers look or word from you. Oh dear, what hard
to prepare which must go to the city to-mor- work gayety was that night ! And I had no
 .

528 godey's lady's book and magazine.

right to ask or offer an explanation, for you ments, should this dull weather continue," she
had not then told me the pretty story you re- said, recovering herself. " Ten to one I shall
hearsed in nay willing ears some months later. oversleep myself, after all. I must not keep
I wonder if we
ever behave so ridiculously
shall the horses and my gallant escort out there in
again!" She laughed lightly in saying this, the cold. Mary, my love, take pencil and
and clasping her hands over his arm, as she paper and write down for me the address
leaned upon it, gazed up in his face with a cer- name and all of that French woman who does
tain wistful tenderness. up laces and muslins in such heavenly style.
"I hope we shall never again have cause to I can't trust my memory with such things."
do so," was the quiet reply. The address was a long and taxed the
one,
" There was no cause then, except in our memory of the writer, for she paused twice or
disordered fancies. After all, clouds and storms thrice, reflectively, before it was completed.
have their mission, no less than sunshine. I Walter, by the purest accident, caught sight
never kuew, until we had that apparently un- of the slip of paper as it was transferred to

fortunate misunderstanding, how much I prized Ellie. There were four closely-written lines

your society what I then chose to call your upon it.
friendship." "All right! I shall not lose it!" Ellie
None but an obstinate, or thoroughly soured tucked it into her belt. " Good-night, dearie !

nature could have resisted this strain of artless Good-night, Mr. Blythe ! If you don't see me
reminiscence. Elythe was not proof against in the morning, you may conclude that the
the sweet fascination of language and look. draughts of small talk with which I
soporific
With a sudden, passionate impulse, he drew have been plied this evening have proved too
her to his bosom, and pressed his lips again much for my resolution of early rising !" And
and again to hers. she skipped out.
" My precious one ! I wish you could never Mr. Blythe made it his business to walk
forget the lesson thus learned I It is the only twice through the train on the following morn-
thing in which I excel you, dearest in the ing, which, by the by, was clear and frosty,
strength and fervor of my love 1" and ascertained, beyond the possibility of a
"You have no right to say that, Walter! doubt, that Miss Victor was not one of his
You should trust me" travelling companions. He could hardly have
Here the door-bell rang with a startling peal, told why he was dissatisfied at the result of his
and they had barely time to withdraw to a search, or why he associated her non-appearance
respectful and decorous distance apart from with Mary's secret errand to P Acute .

each other, when Ellie Victor flashed into the lawyer as he was, he had an uncomfortable im-
room in all the glory of a full toilette. pression that he was being outwitted by some
"
stopped the carriage, as we were driving
I
one he was not exactly certain whom did ;

home, Molly dear, seeing the light in here. not credit the theory of the effect of the drowsy
We have had a stupid evening at Mrs. Hoyt's ;
draughts upon Miss EUie's senses. He felt
you may thank your stars that you stayed at half assured, indeed, that she was quite too
home and I thought it wise to leave early,
I wide awake for him.
that I might be fresh for our expedition. Oh, ^Business claimed his exclusive attention after
Mr. Blythe ! I declare I did not see that it was he reached the city banished from his mind
;

you until this instant coming, as I did, from all thought of personal vexations or wrongs.

the darkness into a lighted room ! I called, as It was past two o'clock when he parted from

I was about Mary, to ask if you had any

to say,
orders for town. I am going over in the morn-
ing, at a barbarously early hour. Think of it,
Mr. Blythe, in the 8.20 train Why, I am
seldom up at that time on other days !"
"Mr. Blythe will be a fellow-passe^nger," said
Mary. " You see that others can be as indus-
trious as yourself."
" You don't say so !"
Whyshould the lively sprite look suddenly
uon-plussed, and cast a quick, questioning
glance at her friend ? Was this fancy, also ?
" I make no rash promises as to my move-
his client, and took his way down the fashion-
able thoroughfare of the place in quest of a
luncheon that might atone, in some measure,
! for his hurried breakfast. He was in a sunny
mood, and regaled himself, as he strolled along,
by the pleasing reflection that he had performed
an arduous and delicate piece of business in a
m.isterly manner, and gained, besides the praise
of his employer, a handsome fee by the trans-
action. Supplied with this fiavorous sauce for
a dinner, he reached a restaurant, and walked
in. The plate-glass windows of the establish-
ment were crowded with Christmas emblems
 WHAT A JEALOrS MAN SAW 0^S CHRISTMAS EVE. 529

and every imaginable dainty brfitling that and deliberately ; equivocated nnpardonably !

season. The central ornament was a pyramid Moreover, w.as she not running directly counter
of hot-honse fruit, and Blythe stopped just in- to his known wishes in keeping up this clan-
side the entrance to inspect it. Standing thns, destine intercourse with a man whom he could
his attention was diverted to a carriage stop- not abide Did not this persistency of com-
?

ping before the next building an eminent munication and association with him, carried
jeweller's. A gentleman sprang from it to the on in partial secrecy, through fear, doubtless,
pavetfient, shut the door behind him, looked of her lover's strictures, argue an infatuated
intently up, down, and aCross the street, into fondness for the conceited puppy, an uncon-
the store itself, then unclosed the vehicle, and querable relish for his society ? And Ellie Vic-
assisted two veiled ladies to descend. torthe pert minx! He ground his teeth at
The cavalier was Bertie Gwynne; his com- thought of her malicious enjoyment in the
panions, iu spite of the concealment of their manneuvres for thwarting and outgenerallin'
features and their unremarkable attire, were him. She was jnst the girl to delight in the
aa easily recognizable by the looker-on. Mary office of confidante inany intrigue, the more
Fay and EUie Victor ! complicated the better.
A muttered exclamation burst from Walter's There were few more discontented and un-
lips. Yet, why should he lie surprised ? Had happy men in the length and breadth of that
lie not heard the appointment for Wednesday ? goodly city on that twenty-third of December,
Was it not plain as daylight that Ellie's unsea- than was the promising young lawyer, who sat
sonable visit of the preceding evening referred gnawing his lip and pulling savagely at his
to this very scheme, whatever it was, and that whiskers while with knit brows he affected to
Mary's pencilled note designated the later train re.ad the presented by an obsequious
bill of fare

by which they were to leave Kingsville, in order waiter. Choosing sundry comestibles at ran-
to avoid an iuopportune meeting with him- dom, to rid himself of the man's presence, he
self? dismissed him with the order and resumed his
"Tricked! duped! why not betrayed and watch of the carriage in front of the jeweller's.
forsaken as well?" was his comment, as he He had time so long that his
to wait a long
threw himself into a seat beside a table, a po- oysters were stone cold when ho finally recol-
sition commanding a view of the carriage. " It lected that he ought to make a feint of swal-
is high time that I examined into the meaning lowing them. At last, when impatience was
of this wretched plotting ! Why am I selected almost desperation, and his indignant brood-
as its victim f" ings were hardening into resolves as indignant,
tie was in no condition to consider the matter he saw Gwynne emerge from the store, and
dispassionately to arrive at any rational solu-
; after going through the same ceremony of ir.-
tion of the enigma yet a less prejudiced, or
; specting the streets, as had attended his arrival,
less hasty man would, even if moved to an he beckoned to his fair charges, and they joined
equal degree of anger, have suspended jvidg- him. He assisted them into the carriage, and
raent until a further investigation of the case as he did so, Mary's veil was blown or brushed
had proved the existence of evil in the mys- aside, revealing a countenance, animated anij
tery. Tliere was nothing ignoble in Walter happy, smiling npon her escort. Bertie placed
Blythe's charactec; still, he was hardly capable himself upon the front seat, opposite her, look-
of exercising a lofty candor of opinion, or a ing supremely contented the picture of de-
generous charity, wliere his personal dignity light, in fact, and the coachman drove on-.
was wounded, his private feelings outraged. Well ?
lie had grown to dislike young Gwynne there- ; He had seen all that was to be gathered for
fore, his complicity in these underhand deal- the present; an "all" that may seem trivial
ings was peculiarly distasteful.
He was almost and nniuipoitant to the sensible, impartial
convinced that Mary regarded the artist with reader, but which meant much, and weighed
undue favor ergo, their partnership in a plan
; heavily with a proud, suffering, implacable
for circumventing himself, and securing each man. Blythe looked and felt more like a judge
other's company, must mean mischief, and prepared to try and, if need there was, to sen-
mischief only. One thing was sure and to tence a criminal, than a grieved lover, as he
this he reverted again and yet again, in his paid for the dinner he had not eaten and turned

angry musings whatever design was in pro- his back upon the restaurant.
c."j3 of incubation, his betrothed had trifled He did not return until late that night, and
with him unwarrantably: deceived him grossly it wag eight o'clock on Christmas eve when ha
VOL. LXVII. 42
530 GODEY'S lady's BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

presented himself at Mrs. Fay's door. In the tion !Why not own that she had herself been
parlors all was and mirth, and bustle. A
light, one of the party ?
tall tree stood in the arch between the rooms, " Mr. Gwynne is a fortunate individual," he
and a bevy of girls were fluttering about it, remarked, sneeringly. " It seems only neces-
'ike humming-birds, busy with streamers, gilt sary for him to volunteer to act in any capacity,
balls, and colored candles. He caught but a and he is accepted."
glimpse of the lively tableau, through the half " He is popular, and is always willing to

ipeu door, as he passed on to the library where serve those whom he loves," rejoined Mary,
visitors were to be received on this evening. firm in her friend's defence.
Here he was left in solitude for several minutes, " Willingness which those who are so un-
a circumstance he would not have cared for at happy as not to belong to that class are apt to
another time, but which now aggravated the
construe into meddling disagreeable officious-
sense of injury under which he labored. Mary nessl" Walter pursued, losing control of his
came in, by and by, smiling and rosy with ex- temper with each instant.
ercise and pleasure. "The best of us are liable to be misunder-
" Excuse my tardiness I" she began, too stood," was Mary's answer, the rising glow
excited to note her suitor's lowering brow, upon her cheek contradicted by the calm dig-
" but we are all busy with the Christmas tree. nity of her manner. " We had better not talk
We had to get it ready to-night, in order to of Bertie, Walter, until you know and like him
judge of the effect by lamplight, and so much better. I am persuaded that you will, some

of the design was mine that the girls would not day."
let me leave them until I had instructed them " You are over-sanguine as to an event which
l\ow to carry on the work. wish I could give
I I am far from considering desirable ; but let

you a peep at it, but gentlemen visitors are that pass for the present. It would be folly
rigorously excluded for the present." for me to attempt to disguise from you, Mary,
At this juncture the door nnclosed, and Mr. the truth that my faith in you is no longer so

(rwynne appeared, his liands full of streamers. firm as it once was ; that the occurrences of the
"
beg pardon !" He halted in undissembled
I last few weeks have done much towards chang-
t-mbarrassment. " I did not know that you ing my opinion of your character." He plunged
were here, Mr. Blythe. I came to ask you, into the midst of the subject with savage ab-
Mary, if you knew where the red candles were ruptness, exasperated by the conversation that
put. We cannot find them, high or low." preceded "I believed you ingenuous, up-
it.

Mary colored brightly, as was natural, at his right in thought and action, and faithful in
entrance, inasmuch as she was standing by your professed attachment for myself. I have
Walter's chair, her hand upon his shoulder, been irresistibly driven to doubt all these
.md Bertie must see that he had interrupted a things."
love-scene. Walter was not blind to their mu- " By what circumstances, may I ask ?"
tual confusion, nor backward in drawing his Mary had turned very and her clear pale,
own inference from it. Having obtained the tone was less steady than she would have had
desired information, the intruder retired, with- it, but there was a dangerous spark in liereye.

out loss of time, inwardly execrating his luck To his astonishment, Blythe's proofs were
for having forced upon him this awkwanJ en- not directly producible. He ^bought ho liad
counter. Mary drew a footstool to Walter's thom at his fingers' ends; but, "irresistibly
side and sat down, leaning lightly against his driven" though he was, when he turned to
knee. summon the impelling forces, lie found but
"I thought gentlemen visitors were rigor- trifles light as air. Mary's simple directness
ously excluded," he said, with a sardonic had put then^all tofligli,t. He could not, with-
smile. out a sacrifice, and an ignominious one, of his
"I was about to add that Bertie was an ex- manliness, retail to her the petty occurrences
i-eption," said Mary, innocently. "He met that had been seized upon by his jealous imagi-
.Hllie and volunteered his services
in the city, nation as evidence against her. A word here ;

for this evening. Having passed a winter in a look there now a whisper, accidentally over-
:

Germany, to which climate Christmas trees are heard then the unseen pencillings, which he
;

indigenous, he is supposed to be more au fait chose to guess were treasonable to him the ;

to them than are we, to whom they are only recital would debase hira in his own eyes and
known as exotics." . in hers. Yet the impression made by the ag-
"Met Ellie in the city !" Further equivoca- gregate of these was not removed ; indeed, it


WHAT A JEALOL'S MAN SAW OK CHRISTMAS EVE. 531

appeared to grow more powerful under the irri- meeting his accusing eye with a lofty disdain.
tation he experieuced at this unforeseen balk in " iMrt you suspect me of that, Walter BIythe '
Ills proceedings. But one thing remained to 1)0 you really nieau that you doubt my fidelity

him of sufficietit importance to be handled with to you ? Do you accuse me oi ptrjuryi"

effect, and ho hastily dragged this forward, "How can I do otherwise?" and, his evif
leaving the rest to follow as they would. genius urging him on, he added, insanely
" Why could you not tell mo that you meant " she who can be f.alse in one respect, will be
to go to the city, yesterday?" he demanded, in another. The woman who can connive wiih
more roughly than he w.is aware of. " Why, others to deceive her lover, deliberately ani
when I iui)aired if this were your intention, utterly, even in so trivial a matter as the leasi
did you virtually deny that you had any such of the instances have enumerated,
I will not
step in view / Why change your hour for start- shrink from sacrificing her plighted troth, if

ing, upon learning that I designed taking the the temptation offers."
same train t Why signify this alteration in " Tliere you have said enough
! If such is !

your plans to your accomplice, Miss Victor, Tonr judgment of my character and conduct ;

under the pretence of writing the address of a such the suspicions you have let outweigh my
laundress ? What was the meaning of your solemn vows of affection and constancy, we are
secret appointment with your favored swain, better apart. Our union would only insure
Mr. Gwynne an engagement which I heard the lifelong misery of both. I thought you

him entreat you not to forget, and which you knew me better, that you would believe me in-
acknowledged was as momentous to yourself as capable of such sins as those you charge me
to him f Why did you dread to walk the with. I see now that you would never have
8treet.s unveiled, yesterday, as is your custom, understood me. We have made a great mis-
unless because of the consciousness that your
takeboth of us one that is best remedied by
conduct was blamable, and that your compan- forgetfulnoss."
ions wonld be objectionable to some person ? Before he could reply before he fully di-

Was that one, myselfyour betrothed hus- vined her meaning, so misled was he by her
band?" seeming calmness, her unimpassioned tone
And having reached this climax in his exam- and tearless eye, she had dropped her betrothal
ination of the prisoner at the bar, he paused ring in his hand and was gone.
for a reply with magisterial sternness. She went straight back to the parlor replied ;

"
I am willing to believe that you do not in- with a smile and pleasant word to Katie's whis-
tuit me wantonly," said Mary, rising and pered exclamation of surprise at her speedy re-
speaking proudly. " But, if you desire an turn, and EUie's scoldings for having absented
answer to any or all of your questions, your herself so long picked up an unfinished wreath
;

requisition must be made in a different tone from the carpet, and, too sick and tremulous
and spirit. I deny the right of any one much to stand, sank upon the ottoman in the corner
gentleman
less a to interrogate me in the strain while she went on with her task. Bertie
you have seen fit to employ. It is unkind and Gwynne came over to her, directly, with ever-
rude. Icould not respect myself, if 1 submitted green branches and cord ; knelt before her, and
to it. Tell me what you wish to know, what took up the other end of the garland. He
yon believe to have beea my sin, and I will worked and gravely, a novelty for him,
silently
reply." but his quick sight detected her changing color,
If Walter's self-command were in peril before, and the hard, bright look in her eye he heard ;

it was wrecked now. her irregular breathing felt the shudder that
;

"An ingenious subterfuge !" he said, scorn- shook the wreath as the front door clanged to
fully. " For Heaven's sake, Jet us make an after the retiring visitor, and, as her fingers
end of clever evasions and double-dealing ! moved among the stiff twigs, he saw that the
They are foreign to my taste, congenial as they pledge ring was missing.
may be to yours. I have asked plain questions, Walter, in shutting the door behind him,
and none that I did not conceive I had a per- glanced nnconscionsly in at the liqhted parlor
fect right to put to you
none that you need windows. The shutters were fast, but the
hesitate to answer, if your conscience is clear movable slats of one were turned at such an
of the knowledge that you have practised de- angle that he conld see plainly the interior, the
ception upon me, if you are guiltless of premedi- little crowd of busy workers, and, withdrawn

tated perfidy." some distance from them, Mary, apparently as

'Premeditated perfidy!" repeated Mary, happy as the merriest there, with Bertie
 . !

532 GODEY'S lady's book and MAGAZINl

Hwyaue, as co-laborer, on his knees beside mas to him, more than any other winter night ?
berl Anniversaries and holidays were humbugs,
frivolities fit for babies only !

" Ihave never before anticipated so delight-

CHAPTER III. ful a Christmas !"
Little by little the truth with regard to the How well he recollected her cheery accent 1

present relation of the two who were lately be- her look of lively pleasure I how vividly came
trothed, leaked out, as the lapse of weeks back to him the picture of that girlish figure,
I'liuud Mr. Blythe an absentee from the
still her attitude of confiding fondness as her head
house where he had formerly enjoyed sucl dis- drooped against his arm the very touch of her ;

tinguished privileges. As to the causes of the hand upon liis even the fragrance of the tea-
estraugenieut, tongues were busy and opinions rose in her hair ! What spell was there in this
were various. Mary's mother and sister only season to invoke this apparition to force him
knew that there had been a quarrel that ; to face it while he struggled vainly against the
Walter had made demands whicli Mary deemed tide of memories flowing iu upon his soul?
unreasonable, and tliat upon tliis issue they " I wonder if we shall ever behave so ridicu-
had parted. No one else was informed of even lously again !"
that much. Bertie Gwynne may have had He had not forgotten a word that she said on
liis conjectures EUie Victor assuredly had
; the last happy evening he had ever known.
hers, but neither dared approach the subject How happily she laughed in saying it ! how
with Mary. If she suffered, she made no moan frankly and fearlessly she gazed into his eyes
in mortal hearing, asked no help from human Hud he behaved ridiculously? Was he not
sympathy. The world saw in her the same rather doing this now in questioning the wis-
eheerful readiness to contribute her share dom of a step so often reviewed so often pro-
towards the general entertainment of her ac- nounced wise and necessary I

quaintances missed no gleeful cadence in her

;
" Pooh it is late in the day to talk of that!"
I

laugh or speech. Her friends recognized the His lip curled and his hand moved toward his
purifying effect of sorrow ouly in her increased pen.
thoughtfulness for others' weal, her deeper " After all, clouds and showers have their
pity and tenderness for others' sorrows. mission no less than sunshine !"
Walter Blythe had never been eminent for Still that phantom on the hearthstone still
his social qualities, but since the dissolution of that voice of remembered music, plaintive now,
his engagement, they were in danger of falling borne as it was from the never-to-return Long
into total Too proud to betray his
disuse. Ago!
hurt by immediate seclusion from the scenes " Perhaps so I" he said, this time aloud and
that had become irksome to him, he yet gradu- desperately, "and so has the tornado, but its
ally allowed the claims of business to encroach mission is death, not mercy !"
upon the time he had once given to society. His head dropped upon his breast deeper ;

He worked diligently and successfully in liis
profession, and with added cares and honors
came graver looks and more rigid lines in fea-
tures and brow. All respected, some feared, few
loved the lonely ascetic, who never complained
gloom overspread his features. He was looking
back upon the ruins of his heart's temple, the
darkening, and storm, and destruction that had
overtaken him in life's fresh morning.
" You have no right to say that, Walter I

of isolation, and had not an intimate friend upon Yon should trust me"
the broad earth. The sweet, persuasive accents seemed actu-
Some such bitter confession as this, he was ally ringing in his ears. How different would
making to himself upon what was now a dreary have been their relative positions, how altered
anniversary with him Christmas Eve two his present surroundings on this evening, if he
years after his parting with Mary Fay. The had continued firm in that trust if she had
early tea of his bachelor boarding-house was proved worthy of its continuance !

over, and he had returned to his office; shut He absolutely groaned aloud. The sound
out the view of the illuminated street the ; aroused him to a sense of his own weakness.
happy, important-looking faces that thronged "Fool!" he muttered, angrily. "Dreaming,
it, with the sounds of merriment and congratu- droning idiot no more of this ! What folly to !

lation that arose, in an inspiriting hum, upon regret the loss of onewhose unworthiness was
the night, and set himself down to work upon a so plainly proved of whose infidelity there
dry and tedious law-case. Wh.at was Christ- remained not the shadow of a doubt I"


WHAT A JEALOUS MAN" SAW ON CflRISTMAS EVE. 533

His hand sought the pen again now, with a

'
the very happy change to which yon are now
resolute grasp. It encountered the smooth, looking forward ; I was ignorant that such an
satiny surface of an envelope across whicli tlio event was in prospect until to-night."

pen had fallen a sealed packet, which had 'Thank yon!" responded the belle, com-
been left there during liis absence at tea-time. posedly. " I fancied that you knew nothing
" How heavy it is an invitation to some
! of it. It is an attachment of long standing an
Christmas fooleries, I suppose !" he said, open- engagement formed more than two years .ago,
ing it. although not publicly acknowledged until with-
There dropped out two cards, tied together in a few mouths."
with white ribbon, and a third, single and " Is that really so ?" Walter faced her
larger. " Mrs. Victor. At Home, Mond.iy, quickly.
" I thought I believed I was led
.rauuary 2d, 8 o'clock P. M." One of the to imagine"
be-ribboned bits of pasteboard bore the name "That Bertie was att.iched to Mary F.ay f"
of ' Eleanor Victor ;"' the other, " Herbert A. finished Ellie, coolly. "This misapprehension
Gwynne." was the cause of your separation. Am I right?"
Walter leaped from his chair in the excess of "Your informant was, without doubt, ac-
his astonishment. quainted with the facts of that unhappy affair,"
"Impossible!" then he sat gazing at the returned he, haughtily. " Vou need no con-
two names in blank incredulity. firmation from me, Miss Victor."
Into this stupor presently crept a faint, but " I beg your pardon ! If you .allude to Mary
delicious sense of relief. Mary could never be Fay, I can only declare that she has never ut-
liis, but she was not to marry Bertie Gwynne ! tered a syllable tome with regard to the mat-
He had not known until now how he lived in ter. have been led to the conclusion I have
I

perpetual dread of this event, how useless had stated to you by a variety of circumstances
been his attempts to school himself to the con- chiefly by my woman's wit." She smiled here
templation of it as a not remote certainty. After the old gleam of irrepressible playfulness.
turning the cards over and over, and re-reading " But if you will give me your attention for
> the title upon each, for perhaps five minutes, a few minutes, I have a little Christmas tale to
he espied a folded paper upon his knee, which relate which may interest you. Twoyears ago
he had drawn with them from their envelope. early in December, my friend, Mary Fay, made
application through mo to Mr. Gywnne to
Mr. BIythe will oblige me by calling here for
half an hour this evening. I have something paint her miniature, he having .acquired some
of interest to communicate to him. celebrity in that branch of his profession.
Eleanor Vlctok. This picture was designed as a surprise-gift to
Saturday, Dee. 24th.
yon on Christmas-day."
At almost any other time he might have "Miss Victor!"
hesitated to obey this peremptory summons ;
"Listen until you hear all I No one knew
would assuredly have sneered at its tone of of the plan excepting ourselves, her mother
quiet atithority, wondering " if that rattlepate and sister, and we were all bound to secrecy.
tlirt imagined that he had nothing better to do In order to give Mr. Gwynne frequent sittingH
than to dance attendance upon her whims I" at liis studio, we were continually contriving
Now he looked at his watch, saw that it was visits to the city. I always accompanied Mary.
already eight o'clock, huddled his papers into Our final excursion was upon the twenty-third,
a heap, extinguished the lamp and WHnt forth when we went together to the jeweller's to
into the brilliant outer scene. Miss Victor was select the gold frame for the miniature and to
at home and alone in a private parlor. She get a chain woven of her hair which she had
received him with a gr.ave cordiality, such as ordered to accompany it. We knew that yon
he had never observed in her before. were going to the city that day, and were in
" It has been a long time since we last met, roort.al terror of meeting you at this the elev-
Mr. BIythe," she said, inviting him to a seat. enth honr. I never saw Mary so intent npon
He murmured something, not very audibly, any other project as npon this. She was so
abont " the pressure of business." joyous so elate, when we were coming back
"A long time," pursued Ellie, reflectively, th.at night poor child !"
" and to both of us have come some changes in Walter's face was turned away, but she saw
that period." his hand steal np to his forehead, as if he
Walter regained his self-possession. would have smote if.
" Permit me to ofler my congratalatione npon " It so chanced that I learned, a week later,
42*
 ; ;

534 GODEY'S lady's BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

t)iat you diued that day in tlie restauraut iiext "Peace and good-will, once more, darling!
door to our jeweller's. A friend of miue saw May it be forever !"
you there at the very hour we had uhoseu for " Amen !" she echoed fervently. An instant
our errand. I should never have thought of later, smiles chased away the tears. "Wait
remark made
this circumstance again, but for a here a moment
and she flitted away.
1"

to me yesterday by Kate Martyu. She called
liere on her way home from her mother's,
where she had passed the day. She said that
Mary was not well, and quite out of spirits that
she had said to her sister, more unguardedly
tlian she is apt to speak now-a-days, that it
was a painful anniversary with her that she
had once, on this day of the month, made her-
self very unhappy while prosecuting what she
Soon returning, she brought a small velvet
case and laid it in his hand. " It has never
been opened since that terrible night. Will
; you prize it the less because it caused us
grief?"
Within was the long delayed Christmas-gift,
; the frame of chased gold surmounting and pro-
tecting a just and beautiful picture of herself,
and attached to it was the chain of dark, silky

thought was a harmless scheme for another's hair.

pleasure. And then Kate further opened my "I do not deserve it !" Walter tried to say,
eyes by asking me if I had never noticed how but there came instead only a great sob, as he
jealous you used to he of Bertie Mr. Rwynne. caught both portrait and original to his heart.
So, Mr. BIythe, I collected these hints into a
theory, which was, that Mr.Gwynne and I had
been innocently the instruments of bringing
sorrow to the heart of our dearest friend. It THE SEASONS OF THE HEART.
may seem ou my
like a betrayal of confidence Bt FURBUSH FLINT.
part to tell you but I could not feel
all this,
Ah, liow the cbaogeful seasons of our lives
content to enter upon a new, and and what Mock at the beauteous contrasts of the year!
I hope will be a happy life, without making an Chilhng with frost the Summer's joyful prime,
effort to repair the mischief. If I have erred Or wreathiug Winter's snowy head with flowers,
in judgment, I hope you will appreciate my I saw a maiden, fair, and lithe, and young.
motive." With braided hair of dark and silken gloss,

Before she had finished this sentence, Walter Piessing her rosy face against the pane ;

The snow was falling on the leafless earth

was upon his feet.
And whitening all the landscape and her eyes,

"Mrs. Gwyune Miss Victor, I would say Beneath the shadow of their half-dropt lids,
you are an angel, and I am a fool a besotted, F'dlowed the floating mazes of the storm ;

miserable wretch Heaven bless you Good-

! !
night!"
While she was still rubbing the little hand,
upon which his parting grip had left four red
streaks, he stood at Mrs. Fay's door. It was
epened by a servant, to whom he was a
And from her lips, with warm and fragrant breath
There came a carol, merry as a bird's.
Born in the summer of her careless heart.
I saw a man with silver-threaded hair
Sit down upon a flowery bank of Spring,
When nature all was musical and sigh
" Ah, woe is me I may not live again
!

stranger. The days misspent and blighted had I died ;

" Ves Mis.s Fay was at Iiome. Would the Wliile yet the dew was ou my morning path,
gentleman step into the library, where she was It would have been a terrible thing to feel

That Spring would plant fresh violets on my grave,

sitting?"
Mary arose with gentle ladylike grace
receive the visitor. Every vestige of color for-
sook her face at seeing who it was. Walter ad-
vanced, with bowed head and averted eyes.
" Mary
I am not worthy of your love, but
1
And Slimmer shadow them with dancing boughs,
to
And Autumn scatter there his dying leaves,
And Winter cover all with pearly frost,
And I be mouldering motionless and low
But I have loved, and learned that love can die
Have toiled for wealth, and found it brought not pearo-

Have sought for fame, and known that fame is air

call you me?" The prodigal's prayer
forgive
And now, the flowery Spring, the Summer's glow.
was not uttered with more profound self-abase- And Autumn, with his many-colored guise,
ment, more lowly reverence. Are but one solemn season of decay.
Twelve o'clock rang out in solemn sweetness Merged in the dreary winter of my soul I

from a neighboring belfry before they parted.

They ceased speaking to count the strokes,
then Mary's uplifted eyes glittered with happy Theke is no condition so low hut may hav
tears, and Walter's were full of moved tender- hopes ; nor any so high that it is out of Ihe
ness in looking down into them. reach of fears.


BROTHER RICHARD.
BT OBACK GARDlfBR.

(Concladed from page 4^9.)

A PEW days passed. Meantime Annie exerted ] And Margaret felt no fear of having nndertaken
herself Zfalously, and one morning slie broke what she could not perform for she knew if ;

into the cottage ratlier earlier and more ab- she possessed any one talent, it was that for

ruptly than usual. They were at breakfast. painting, and that talent had been assiduously
She could not help noticing the t.ible. The cultivated.
fare was frugal, but there was something iu Js'o more sewing now for Margaret Rivers,
the arrangement, the snowy cloth, the antique after that inhand was finished no more debts,
china, the old-fashioned silver given to Marga- no more suffering for food her care and anxi-
;

ret by her grandmother, that gave Annie a ety in a great measure were over, their heavy
strange desire to accept their cordial invitation pressure on heart and brain removed, and she
to join them, although she had already break- gradually became her old self more genial,
fasted. She thought she had never tasted less haughty and reserved.
chocolate so good as that in the small, ancient In the Academy, she gave great satisfaction
cup. Perhaps it was because she had so much to her employers, and her pupils loved her
happiness to iuipart that made her think so. dearly. Annie, she was pleased to find, evinced
She could not long withhold this good news. great natural taste, and she took infinite pains
"I hope I shall be able to take lessons in with her, as the only way she could as yet
painting, after all, de.ir Miss Rivers. The show her gratitude.
Academy Couimittee have a lady in view to There w.as to be a large parly in the village.
whom they will offer the vacant situation this Annie was invited. It was the first large party
afternoon, and besides, there a class of eight
is to which she had received an invitation, and
girls besides myself who wish to take lessons. she was full of pleasant excitement in the an-
Do you believe she will be willing to accept ? ticipation. She was describing to Margaret her
Dear Miss Uivers, it is yourself!'" dress for the occasion
A beautiful color stole into Margaret's cheek, " Oh, it is so lovely, Margaret (she had some
pale from too great confinement and want of time since dropped the formal Miss Rivers) !

exercise. She leaned over and kissed Annie's and it is becoming, too. It was made in the
fair, round cheek, which glowed with pleasure, city, and came last night. There is only one
for it was Margaret's first kiss. Margaret with thing I want to make my toile^ complete, and
wealth and position, had not lost a certain that, it is impossible to procure here. If I only
charm of manner which both impressed and had some lace like that of Cousin Nell's ; it is

flattered, aud when she condescended to exert almost priceless, and is the one object of my
herself it was not possible to help being pleased. ambition and yet you would think it needed
;

" It is to you, then, my dear Miss Leigh, we washing, sadly, Margaret."

are indebted for this good fortune. I need Margaret smiled. She had seen more of such
hardly tell you that I will accept the situation lace than Annie thought. She felt glad that
and the class gladly." Margaret's words of she could now in some slight measure return
thanks were few, but they were given in a Annie's kindness and generosity. She went to
manner that made Annie's heart throb with a trunk aud from an inner tray took out some
pleasure. rare old lace.
Mrs. Rivers did not comprehend at first. " Dear Annie, yon will give me pleasure by
"Ves, Margaret always liked painting. Is accepting this. I wore it once only at the
Signor Manziuni to give her more lessons ?
Queen's drawing-room and shall have no fur-
And your easel, where is it ? I have not seen ther use for it."
it of late." " The Queen's drawing-room !" Annie loch-
The committee came in during the day, ajid ed up bewildered, then down at the elegant
an offer was formally made and accepted. It lace, but all other thoughts were absorbed in
was a generous one, and was owing to Mr. Leigh, the pleasure of contemplating it. She started
who w.as known to be a judge of the art, and up, with eyes sparkling with delight.
who had spoken of her pictures in high terms. " Oh, dear Margaret can you mean it ? But
!

535
 a

^536 godey's lady's book and hagazine.

I must not take it. Papa would not be willing, glance of the deep gray eyes, a vision and a
it would be such a costly present. It is far memory of the past came to her.
richer and more beautiful than Cousin Nell's." It was of herself a gay, giddy, laughter-
" Annie, dear, I am glad to have had if, since loviug,somewhat coquettish girl, who, one
you like it. You must take it. I did not re- summer, while visiting an aunt in the country,
fuse i/our generous present, that which came to was one morning carrying a bowl of broth across
us in our moment of greatest need," she said, the pasture to a poor old sick woman, an object
with meaning. of village charity. She was startled by the ab-
Annie colored, but was too delicate to take rupt appearance of a youth who was boarding
further notice of her words. in the village during his college vacation, and
" I want to take it so much it is so beau- ; who had shown unmistakable symptoms of an
tiful. ask papa if I may. What will
I will affection of the heart with regard to her. His
Nell say when she sees it ? She is coming appearance this morning was not prepossessing.
goon." As gay and pleasure loving as she He held fishing tackle in one h.and, a basket
was Annie danced round the room.
unselfish, of fish in the other ; his collar and neck-tie
" I shall teaze papa so hard to let me keep were awry ; his trowsers tucked into cowhide
it. Thank you, thank you, dear, dearest Mar- boots. Notwithstanding, in despair of finding
garet. Giiod-by." And the gay, good girl ran another opportunity, he dropped fishing tackle
home with her treasure, having first won a and fish, sprang towards her, coloring up to the
promise from Margaret to come in before she roots of his hair as he did so, grasped her hand,
went to the party. "To come right into the much to the peril of Goody Hill's soup, and
library without ringing .she would be there." dropping on his knees poured out some unin-
Annie could not be quite so sure of being telligible rhapsodies.

alone in the library. Her brother Richard had For a moment .she stood silent and con-
come hoDie during the day, and that room was founded. But a second glance at the tucked-
his favorite place. So that when she came up pants, the upset basket of fish which were
down full dressed to await Margaret's coming, squirming in the dirt, the flushed face with
he was there, and though she did not want him, great drops of perspiration on the sun-browned
but to have Margaret all to herself, it was not forehead the small stream of Goody Hill's
;

the easiest thing to tell a dark, stately six-footer broth slowly trickling down her clean summer
that he iiad better run away ! dress,and the ludicrousness of the scene wag
Annie was in the midst of .an earnest disser- toomuch.
tation to him on the merits of her laces " Could you wait a moment till I set down
costly present from Miss Rivers, but which this broth ?" she asked, struggling still with
papa had finally consented she might keep. her laughter. She set down the dish carefully,
Did he know that it had been worn at the then came back. " Now, can I do anything
Queen's drawing-room ? Miss Rivers wore it for you, Mr. Leigh !"

herself! She meant to ask her all about it; The poor fellow, still in the position she had
she forgot to in her delight at receiving the left him, with less enthusiasm, murmured some

lace." And he sat there amused, and looking extravagant expressions of affection, and con-
much as he might look if she were speaking cluded by asking her to give him her hand and
in an unknown tongue. A shadow darkened heart.
the bay-window that led into the room, and "No," she answered "but she would give
;

then appeared a slender, dark-robed figure. him some of Goody Hill's broth maybe tliat
Labor .and anxiety had taken away much of the would make him feel better." And then the
life and coloring from the beautiful face, though silvery laughter, no longer in her power to

now gradually returning the heavy, wavy hair ; repress, pealed forth.
was pnt plainly back, and altogether she was He started, looked up one instant into the
a strong contrast to the bright, saucy-looking dark eyes, sparkling with mirth and mischief,
fairy, dressed in airy, fleecy robes, and decked with an expression which Margaret remembered
with flowers. to this day, and which was the only proof of
" Ob, Margaret, I am so glad yon have come I identity with this Richard Leigh, and then
the dish of
Come into the parlor" putting her arm round rising abruptly, carefully lifted
her and drawing her towards the door. " Oh, broth and politely handed it to her, saying,

I forgot My brother Richard Miss Rivers."

! courteously and coolly
Margaret liad heard the name often from " Pray excuse my mistake, and also my
Annie, and as that of a stranger, but with that detaining you." And then he turned aw.ay


BROTHER RICHARD. 537

coolly, picked up tUe fish and fiskiug gear, and her beauty, and the estimation in which she
walked olf. was evidently held by the n hole family per- ;

She remembered that Bhe liad felt intensely haps Richard Leigh had something to do with
piqued, and wondered what ho meant by ''his the matter, for Florence Bell had long since
mistake." And she had looked fur him after appropriated him for hei'self, and she was not
that both in her walks and at chnrab, but h.td one likely to look with favor upon a beaatiful
never seen him since till now. girl, associateil so intimately with his family;
Margaret remembered all this while Annie and when she learned that she was only a
was leaiiing her to the parlor, and busily talk- teacher, she treated her with a reserve and
ing ; but her thoughts were absent during her haughtiness that made Annie very indignant,
stay. lint Margaret had reigned queen too long iu
Richard Leigh and Margaret Rivers often met. the world of fashion to be at all discomposed or
It was impossible to be otherwise. Mr. Leigli rebuffed by one like Florence Bell, and her
was only courteous at first, but as lime p,Tssed indifference and self-possession but irritated
on he became as kind as a brothsr. If Marga- Miss Bell the more.
ret could have forgotten that first glance she " How queer that you should tre.it as an
would bavesupposed that he recollected neither equal a teacher of painting, and your some time
her nor the past. seamstress !" siie said, one evening, at a party
Mr. Leigh was genial, rich, handsome, dis- at Mr. Leigh's, to Annie. " Is it the fashion
tingu', and was of course a great favorite in in this village ? Mamma's seamstress, I ima-
society. No company was tliought complete gine, would open her eyes wider than ever yet
without Lim. lie was so good, so kind, so if even invited into the drawing-room. Do
merry and sensible, every one felt the inllueuce you think it just the thing to make so much of
of his presence. He was in time almost as a person in so inferior a position, Mr. Leigh?"
much at home Annie herself,
at the cottage as She looked up at him smilingly, and as if
and was always warmly welcomed by Mrs. e.xpecting an assent to her question, for one so
Kivers, who now, with restored health, had courteous and gallant would not of course dis-
recovered all her energies, weakened by sor- agree with her.
row and illness. Margaret, less demonstrative, The indignant blood surged in waves to An-
was not nncordial. nie'scheeks, but before she could speak Richard
" Aunie looks upon you as a sister. Yon Leigh, with his most courteous manner, an-
must let me be as a brother to you," he had swered with a smile but nevertheless there
;

said one day, when she had attempted to de- was something in his tone that jarred a little
cline his otfer of assistance in some matter on Miss Bell's ear.
which would take her to the city. " Miss Rivers is a lady by birth and educa-
Margaret, who seldom blushed, did so now, tion. I feel my sister is able to claim
glad that
then slnwly paled. The word " brother" some- her fur a friend, she has had advantages of
for
how slruf^her unpleasantly. She did not ask position and society that but few American
herself why. ladies can boast of, both at home and abroad,
He often saw her engaged in domestic duties. and her conversational tact and manners I
" Mi-s Rivers, I am qnite positive that you should be glad that Annie shonld imitate."
have not rolled that upper crust large enough "Was sewing or painting Miss Rivers' pro-
to cover the plate ; follow my advice, make it fession while abroad ?" Miss Bell asked, with
larger: it will save your taking it off," he re- an innocent look, but with irony iu her tones.
marked, when Margaret had supposed him ab- Mr. Leigh answered with a smile. "I am
sorbed with some specimens of minerals which sadly afraid nothing so useful. 1 am not posi-
he was showing her mother. tivewhat she professed, but she was esteemed
She met his laughing eyes, and with mock by others a belle and an heiress, and was ad-
seriousness turned to Mrs. Rivers : mired and courted accordingly. Shall we dance
" Mamma, will you please require that gen- this quadrille, Miss Bell ?"
tleman's attention ?" And the young lady was led off, feeling that
Nellie and her step-sister, Florence
Leslie she both feared and hated this ex-belle .and
Bell, had arrived on a visit to the Leighs. The heiress, and present teacher.
former was lovely and artless the latter, with ; Margaret, dnring tliis conversation, had, in
much style, wit, and beauty, could hardly be the changes of the cotillion, passed near enough
called agreeable. She had taken a prejudice to learn the drift of their remarks.
to Margaret from the first, perhaps because of Ves, Mr. Leigh had defended her as a matter
538 GODEY'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

of <iuty ; but he had plainly

felt no indigna- mediately," and he turned his laughing eyes
tion at the youngunkind remarks, else
lady's on Margaret.
would he have so promptly and eagerly engaged Mrs. Rivers smiled. " I am sure Margaret
her for the dance, and appear so devoted ? And will only be too happy to do so trifling a thing
with a feeling of jealousy for which she did not as give you pleasure."
account, she watched them laughing and talk- " You hear. Miss Rivers ?"
ing gayly. " But, mamma, we have only these, and Mr.
In the next quadrille, Florence Bell was her Leigh has so many at home. He is only laugli-
v!s-d-visj Mr. Leigh being her own partner. ing at our meagre roses."
Miss Bell dared not be impertinent to Mr. "Why, my daughter, I am astonished !"
Leigh's partner, but, had she ventured, she "And so am I, Miss Rivers never was more ;

would have found it impossible. Margaret, so astonished in my life to have, such a modest
cool, so stately, and beautiful, with an air which request Befused."
told that she was familiar with scenes like "And so am I, also, perfectly astonished at

these, would have been impervious to any in- your covetousness But since mamma wishes
!

it, you may have just one. Which will you

sults of Miss Bell's and so the latter began to
;

realize, and though she disliked her none the have?"

less, it impressed her. After this, though she " Let me see that one nearest the window.
would gladly have kept aloof, and bad others There, now place it in my button-hole ; that
to do so, it chanced that Margaret was often the will do nicely. thank you with
Mrs. Rivers, I

centre of some group she particularly wished
to join; for since Margaret had laid aside her
reserve she had become quite popular, and of
late had become as much noticed as she had
formerly been neglected; and so Miss Bell
chose to come in contact with her rather than
all my heart. Miss Rivers, always obey your
mother. Good morning."
Thus it was given and accepted, but a pretty
war of words followed, till Mr. Leigh reached
the gate; then pointing triumphantly to the
rose he had succeeded in getting, he bowed

Btay out of the charmed circle. It was about low and walked oif.
this time that Miss Bell's and Richard Leigh's The day was warm and pleasant, and the
names began to be associated, and people con- picnic took place in some grand old woods

fidently predicted a match. about a mile from Mr. Leigh's. About twenty
young people were present. First, they had
The second day after the party Richard Leigh
music and dancing then they rested and had
;
came to the cottage to invite Margaret to a pic-
refreshments. Afterwards the youthful party
nic in the afternoon. She was at work in the
separated into couples and strolled through
garden.
thenumerous shady and romantic paths. When
" We have roses at home, quantities of them,
at the time fixed upon for their return, they
but none of them seem to me so beautiful as
!" reassembled, it was found that two were miss-
those of yours. How do you account for it
" Because there are none

ing Florence Bell and Richard L(|||;h. They
Margaret laughed. waited fifteen minutes, half an hour, three-
prettier to compare them with, or to distract quarters, and still they had not come.
your attention from their particular merits, I "Time must be passing more quickly with
presume." our friends than with us here waiting," said
" I am fond of roses, Miss Rivers. I suppose
one young gentleman, and he proposed to go
!"
that hint is sufficient
ill search of them. But just then they ap-
" So was the rich man in the Scriptures of
peared Richard, gay, laughing, careless as
the poor man's one ewe lamb." usual Florence, looking flushed, triumphant,
"Theoretically and practically a niggard, happy. Significant glances were exchanged
Mrs. Rivers," as the gentle mother, attracted among the young people, and low whispers.
by their voices, appeared at the window. "This Twoorthree openlyrallied them upon theirloug
young lady, who, I am sorry to say, is your delay, to which Richard answered lightly and
daughter, refuses me just one of these roses, gayly.
which wither by to-morrow.
at the longest will "Oh, Margaret, do you believe what they
Please command her, as a punishment for her say ? that Richard and Florence are engaged ?

niggardliness, not only to gather the very pret- I don't see how he can like her ; /never shall,
tiest, but also to place it with her own fingers I know. Isn't it too bad ?"
in my button hole, which command, if she Margaret made some answer, she hardly knew
keeps the lifth commandment, she will do im- what, but meanwhile she grew paler and paler.
 ;

BROTHER RICHARD. 539

?lie said lo lit^nelf that it was tliu lieat fatigue, Utt looked both enlightened and amnsed.
lull ill her inuerniost foul she knew better. "And so you and Miss Rivers have got it into
She h;i(l .ilways said to herself frankly that she your pretty heads that Miss Bell and your
liked Uichard Leigh, that no one eould know humble servant are to bo yoked for life i Much
hiskind heart and noble qualities, and not re- obliged, little sister."
him with the highest esteem but then
p.-xrd ; "Well, brother Richard, to do Margaret
and there she first realized how far liking had I believe I was the first to speak of it
justice,
pone, into what deeper feeling it had merged ;
but I know she thought so too, as well as all

and with came the knowledge that the

this the others at the picnic."
heart she had once scorned was now irrevocably "And so you wouldn't like Miss Bell for a
another's, and that her own had been given sister," he said, slowly and meditatively.
unsought. How bad it happened that she had " Well, my little sister, I should not like to
h.'Bn so foolish, so weak ? He had been kind give you a sister you did not like, fur/i<-r sake,

and brotherly to her, as lo others, that was all. so perhaps had better not think of marrying
1

She could not remember a word or action that Miss Bell, beautiful as she undoubtedly is. Is
even savored of sentiment. How hiul it hap- there anybody you would like 1 shall be glad
.'

pened ? Poor Margaret poor, though the
centre of the laughing group, talking gayly
as the gayest, and though the proud heart
throbbed rebelliously, defiantly.
Richard Leigh came to her. "You look
! to please you in this matter, if possible."
" Oh, there 's only one person I want you to
have Margaret."
"'Margaret,' I suppose you mean Mis
Rivers. Well, I have no objection but per- ;

pale and tired. Have you enjoyed the after- haps she has. However, I can ask her, to
noon ?" and he looked kindly down into her please you," he answered, with a gay laugh.
fai-e, and drew her arm into his. Annie sprang up. "Oh, Richard, ifiW you ?
Margaret's eye flashed up at him. How I will love you better than ever I did in my

dared be say she looked pale and tired Was ! life, if you will, and if Margaret wilt have you,

there anybody there who felt so little pale or I shall be so glad I shall eat her up."

tired, or who had enjoyed the afternoon so "Iso, little sister, let me suggest that you
ninch ? And so she told him, adding naughty had better not eat my wife up I should have
Margaret that it was the most delightful pic- decided objections. Well, to please you, I '11

nic she ever attended or ever expected to think over the matter next winter when I hav
attend. Ah, be careful Margaret ! do not leisure,and let you know."
overdo, for Richard Leigh half smiles at your "There, Richard, I knew all the time you
half-indignant earnestness I were laughing at me I can't bear you! No ! !

Unconsciously there was a change in Marga- 1 don't want you to kiss me and make up I !

ret's manner to Mr. Leigh after

this, although
she heard nothing more of an engagement
between Miss Bell and himself. He was as
kind as ever kinder if possible. He perceived
this change, and wondered at it but as it con-
tinued in spite of his elTorts, be came to the
cottage less frequently, and Margaret rejoiced,
for oh, it was very hard, this constant guard
over look and voice ! vividly before her. She gazed fixedly at th
Annie Leigh every day expected either
Florence or her brother to disclose their engage-
ment, but not doing so, she took her brother to
task one evening after all bad retired.
" Brother Richard," she began, leaning over
do believe, after all, Florence is to be my
sister."
Margaret Rivers sat at a window in the cot-
tage, thinking over that scene far in the past,
; and half unconsciously, herflugers working out
her thoughts, rapidly traced it on the paper.
Presently she became absorbed with her work.
A few more rapid strokes and the scene was
sketch.
"Yes, it is like very like," she murmured.
" Can he be the satne person? After all, lie
ought to forgive me. It was not in human
nature to help laughing Rut he never has
!

him, ' I think it is real unkind of you to keep

forgiven he never will !"
such a secret from your little sister." " And who is thus hard-hearted?" interrupted
He stared. " Secret, puss ! What secret ?" a voice, and the handsome bead of Richard
" you need not seem so ignorant my
Oh ! ! Leigh bent over her shoulder, his laughing
eyes were opened at the picnic, and so were eyes fixed upon the paper.
Margaret's too; and though I don't want Flor- Margaret started up with an exclamation of
ence Bell for a sister, still, if it is to be, I will dismay, and hastily endeavored to cover thv
try and make the best of it." sketch with her band.
 " !

540 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

" Nay, nay, Miss Rivers it is very correct.

THE FUTURE.
I recognized it immediately. Allow me to see
it nearer." Who is there but fancies they would like to

Poor Margaret was the picture of distress. take a look into the future ? And we think
" most people look forward to it as a happier
Leigli, what will you think f
Oil, .Mr. How
can I expKiiii ?'' time th.au the present. The man just starting
"My dear Miss Rivers, why tliis distress?
in business sees it as the time when he should
It kind of you to remember the past; I
is
reap the reward of present labor ; the school-
tliought you had forgotten. How very like !
boy, when heshall throw away his troublesome
I uas somi-thing of a spooney in those days,
books, and go out into the world, and be his

eh. Miss Rivera? Help laughing of course 1

own master. And all through life the futuie
you couMu't and shouldn't! So I tried the is like the 1^7118^(11^18, continually btefore us,

tragic, did I? like this!" dropping on his

spurring us on, and helping us through present

knees and seizing her hand in imitation of the

difliculties by the reward which it promises by-
picture. "Now what did I say? Something and-by. The gambler who has lost thousands
like this Transcendent angel of my heart
? '
still goes on playing and losing, but looks for-

and dre.ams Oh rapturous hour when first I

!
ward to the future when fortune will favor him,
beheld thy seraphic form, and lieaid thy sylph- and he will regain all he has lost, and then
like voice take, oh take nn
! h^art, soul, leave off playing; but the future finds him
where the past left him and although, per-
tucked-up trowsers, cowhide boots and all, unto ;

your heart of hearts and in return, give me haps as he anticipated, he has gained more
;

your peel less, your enchanting, your bewilder- than he ever had before, still he must play a
ing self, and
your deepest, truest soul's af-
all
little longer. The speculator who has thrown
all his money into some great but hazardous
fections ! my angel, and then I '11
Oh, say yes,
pick up ray lish and go home.' " affair, expects in the future to be the possessor

Margaret looked displeased, and drew her- of immense wealth, which he finds to his cost

up haughtily. was real only in his imagination. The young

self His His manner changed.
half-mocking tone ceased, and he said in a man just studying for a profession thinks, when
deep voice, agitated in spite of his efforts :
he h.is mastered what appear to him now to be
" It should have been like this. Margaret, insurmountable difficulties, in the future h
will benefit mankind, and be courted by th
stay, we willhave no rhapsodies now, but plain
truth. great; that then Fame will bring laurels and
I love you, Margaret,and have always,
place on his brow, and fickle Fortune will come
since I, a rough informed boy first met you,
with all the capacity God gave me for loving. and cast riches into his lap. But the future t
Nay, Marg.ret, lay aside that dignity. I am us all is clouded in dark obscurity and very ;

not trifling now. wisely so, for troubles in perspective are often
It is a serious matter to me ;

serious, for it affects tlie happiness of my future much worse than troubles in reality ; and thoss
life. I love you, Margaret do I need to say
are tlie happiest who make such a use of tlin

it again ? Can you not fee! that I speak the present that they will liave nothing to regret
truth do yon love me, and in the future.
will you marry
me " Trnst no howe'er
? Margaret, give me something better than fiitnrp, plea'sant
Let tbe rtead past bury its dead
Goody Hill's broth this time," he whispered.
!

Act act in tbe fiving present I

Margaret, blushing and deeply agitated, for

Heart wiiliin, and God o'erliead!"
she felt this was no trifling now, turned towards
him, but at his last words a half smile played
round her beautiful mouth, and she said a lit- THE BROKEN LYRE.
tle saucily as she drew a little nearer to him BY SARA.
and put lier hand within his " But yon know, : Ali, shattered, low beneath her feet,

Richard, you love broth, Annie says Tlie clieriahed lyre 'b thrown ;

"All a fabrication, Margaret dearest," he in- The grief-wind o'er her soul liath swept,
And all the music 's flown.
t-rrupted, drawing lier tenderly to him. "I
She 'b learned, alas, the bitter truth
have never tasted any since that time. Now, That all that 'a fair must fade !

Margaret, don't tease a poor fellow tell me AlthouL'h the morn i? beauty bright,
tliat you love me no words, only silence Still PveniiiLT brings the shade ;

well, shall take it all for granted, then,

No path through life where pre.S9 our feet
I Mar-
Amid the roses lair.
garet, my qaeeo, ray wife."
But, all concealed within the greeo,
Some brier.-i, tuo, are tUere.
 META. A CHEISTMAS STORY.
3T S. AXME PnOST.

It was Christmas Eve. TTie air was full of on my

face, her whole manner full of her er-
chill winter winds, and snow threatened, though rand. She was small, very small, thin and
it did not actually fall. I had come in fiom pale, with a face Natnro had meant to be l>ean-
m.T d.iy's business, and was dreaming before tiful and childlike, trouble had .iltered to pre-
my bright open grate fire. Dreaming of my mature thonghtfiilness and womanly purpose.
youth, long p.ist, of my scheme long abandoned, With thin, pinchi^d features, pale cheeks,
of my which I had hoped to fill with
lonely life, even pale lips, her broad, white forehead, and
loving hearts and ties. Dreaming as only a large, dark eyes bore earnestness and resolve
bachelor can, on .an iiUe Christmas eve. beyond her years, printed there by some pi-
With my eyes fixed upon the vividly glowing tiless h,and of poverty or care. On that bitter
grate, I saw far away in the past vista of years, night she wore a thin calico dress, a small
two lads, consios, who were brothers in love, faded shawl, a sun-bonnet of gingham, and old
sympathy, and pursuits; entering upon life's shoes bursting out where the upper leather
race, hand-in-hand, spurring rapidly through joined the soles. She came up close to my
college, and leaving the Alma Mater, boys still chair,and put her hand on the arm such a
in heart and hope, to spring into man's life and wee hand, so scarred with scratches and bruises,
suffering by one agony of hope and terror. I so red and chapped with exposure, that my
saw them stand face to face, white with the heart ached strangely as I looked at it.

discovery, each of the other's love. I saw her,
Ellen Lee, with her fair, pure face, her soft,
holy eyes, her gentle, womanly manner s.aw
her as plainly as when with one bitter wrench
I tore my love from its
upon her heart, and turned my face away from
my hope and rivalry to enter upon a new path
alone. I knew of their marriage, I heard of
their happiness, and sometimes even yet wrote
"Well, my child," I said, kindly, I hope,
"you wanted to see me."
" Ves, sir; we live, mother, baby and I, at 27
Rnggles Avenue."
sweet resting-place Kuggles Avenue, be it known, is a small
court filled with the poorest kind of tenement
honses, and by a recent failure I had had as-
signed to me as part payment of a large debt
the ownership of Ruggles Avenue. I had ap-

and received answers from my cousin bnt the ; pointed an agent to look after the property
loving brotherhood, the dream of a higher tie while I owned it, and to sell it as speedily as
of love, these were sundered and shattered pos.sible, and so shifting the responsibility, I

long, long before the Christmas eve when I sat had actually forgotten the existence of such a
dreaming before my cnal fire. I had amassed spot as Ruggles Avenue.
wealth by untiring industry and perseverance, "Well ?" I said, looking down on that ear-
I had takin into my home, and under my care, nest little face raised to mine.
the orphan son of my only sister but I was, at ; "We can't pay the rent, sir," and the
forty-nine, a bachelor still, with no blithe face then was hidden, as the whole frame
voices to open my purse or heart, no warm drooped under the weight of this confession.
kisses to touch my fa.led cheek, no loving Long, black eyelashes swept down on the pale
caress to win me from memory's dream to the cheek, as the white lids veiled the earnest eyes.
present reality of Christmas eve. " Rut, my child, Mr. Jones settles all this."
" A little girl, who wants to see yonrself." " lie can't wait any longer."
Margaret's harsh voice to recall my thought, "Oh, he can't !"
her broad Irish face in the parlor doorway ;
" No, sir, but Mrs. Davis, who lives next
these were my reuiicders of the present after door, said somebody told her he didn't own the
an hour of regretful musing. place since old Mr. Paul sold out, and she ad-
"Let her come in." vised me to come to you and see if you c.in
She cime to my side with an earnest purpose wait it won't be very long, sir, only till mother
in her full, dark eyes that annihilated all ti- gets about again, and bal^y gets to walking."
midity and bashfiilness. It took her bat a Some magnetism there was in those soft,
moment broad parlor, bnt I see
to cross the earnest eyes, in the thrill of that sweet, mu-
her DOW as she came toward me, her eyes fixed sical voice, that was moving my torpid old heart
VOL. LXVII. 43 541
 "

5i2 godet's lady's book axl> magazixk.

into a new and pleasant warmth and interest. She read quickly, this grave little
faces
So drew up a large softly cnshioued chair,
I one long, earnest gaze into mine,
child, for after
and lifted the little girl into it before I spoke she bent her face to press her lips on my hand.
again, my eyes moistening as I saw how the I drew the frail form into my arms, and with

pale cheeks burned, and the little frozen feet the caressing touch, all her forced calmness,

and fingers curled and stretched in the genial her overtasked qniet gave way. Large teare
blaze. rolled down her poor, thin cheeks, and she
"So, mother is sick ?" sobbed till the little figure shook from head to
"Yes, sir. She has been in bed for fonr foot with the hysterical throes. I did not

months, but she can sew a little, and she thinks check her. My smattering of medical know-
she is getting stronger now. Then I can help ledge, my instinct told me it was better to let
more again when baby can walk." the passionate burst have itsway. But I
" Baby is your brother ?" bowed in spirit before the wonderful self-con-
" No, sir, baby 's a girl, sister Alice's little trol thatcould keep such a disposition in grave
girl. Sister Alice died last summer, and that 's subjection so long during such a trying inter-
why we can't pay the rent." view. Had she come whining and crying, I
" How ? Tel! me all about it
!" might have released her from her debt and for-
" Mother used to be a teacher in the public gotten her by the next day. Now, I was in-
school, and after father died, when 1 was a wardly V wing to shield her from some of the
baby, she went to teach again until Alice was early trials that had matured her, and braced
old enough to go. Then mother stopped be- her young heart so early to meet life's rude
cause talking made her cough, and gave her a storms.
pain in her side. Alice got married, two years By the time my tea-bell
rang she had sobbed
ago, in the summer holidays, and
went away herself into quiet again,and was standing pen-
to Buffalo to live because brother Will was on itent and abashed before me. Edgar, my
a railroad there. Last summer she came back nephew, had not come in, so I put her in his
(mother was teaching again then) and wanted chair, and ordered Margaret to pack a basket
to go into the school again. Brother Will was of dainty food, wine and jellies, in her hearing.
killed last spring on the railroad, and Alice 'For mother," I said, answering the ques-
only stayed a few weeks at home before she tioning eyes, and stimulating her appetite.
died of a fever. Mother said she fretted her- " How did you know ?" she asked.
self into it. So we took the baby, Allie, until " I knew your own supper would taste nicer
mother was sick too, and then everything went if she was to have something too."

wrong. We sold our clothes and other little "But " she hesitated with the instinctive
things, Alice's breast-pin, and mother's, hut delicacy of a sensitive nature, dreading to
and here the brave, steady eyes fell again, and wound.

the lips quivered " it took it all for medicine, "But what?"
and bread, and baby's milk, and we owe you "Is it not begging? Mother would not like
four months' rent, sixteen dollars." me to beg."
If it had been sixteen thousand, she could " No, it is a Cliristmas gift. I have no little
not have named the sum with more reverence folks to give Christmas presents, so you must
and terror. let me give you one. You may eat it all your-
' And how will you pay me if I wait ?" self, if you wish."

"Mother is getting able to sew now, and as What a gleeful laugh greeted this preposter-
soon as Allie can walk I can go to work again." ous speech. She was a child after all, with all

" What work can you do ?" her grave ways covering the child nature.
"Mrs. Davis works in a button factory, and " Come, tea is cooling, and mother waiting,
she says she can get me the little girls' work, so put off your bonnet and shawl and sit here."
sewing the buttons on cards. I can earn a Mrs. Rose, my housekeeper, rustled her
dollar and a half a week at that. Indeed we black silk with an indignant gesture as she
willpay you, sir." shook herself into her se.at opposite to mine,
She left her seat as she spoke to come again but she did not say one word. I was master
and rest the little hand on the arm of my in my own house, and she knew it, so she

chair. swallowed her wrath at the insult of being

" Suppose it over with mother.
I go talk forced to sit down with a beggar, and revenged
You and have a cup of tea, and then go
I will herself by offering the child the weakest possi-
and see about the matter." ble tea. I gravely emptied it into the slop
 META. A CHRISTMAS STORY. )i3

basin and Uandeil the cup baok, thereby crush- again but she evidently considered the basket
;

ing out the hinted rebellion and asserting my a serious affair,and only assured me, gravely,
authority. I was jubilant as a school-boy over that she could walk, as serious as if being car-
my little ;)ro/((/^, and dotermiued to have her ried in a market-basket was her usual method

comfortably provided at the well-spread table. of locomotion.

Quiet now, and grave .igain, she was neither My introduction to Ruggles Avenue did not
shy nor awkward. She had evidently been prepossess me in its favor. At every door was
accustomed to sit well, eat with due attention c<dlected a group of overdressed women and
to table proprieties, and bear herself like a half-drunken men, enjoying (?) the holiday
l.idy. And as I watched her, I could trace evening. Children were visible through the
Uiis refinement in her small hands, her deli- open doors, sucking oranges, or fighting over
cately cut features, the shining gloss of her papers of cheap confectionery, while their elders
short, curling hair, and the graceful attitudes laughed, flirted, or swore, as the case might
of her frail little figure. be, at the doorway. In contrast to all this
" Do you know," I said to her, "that in all light and merriment, was the closed door and
our long talk you have not told me your shutters of No. il, the last house in the row.
name ?" In the upper room, a light burned but the cur-
;

" Meta Burgiss, sir. It is mother's name too. tains, of some thick green stuff, hid all inside.
.\Iice's name is Smith." Opening the door softly, ray little guide asked
" What was your father's business ?" me to wait, and went quickly up stairs. \
" Ue was au engraver, sir, and stooping moment later, she stood at the head of the
killed him, mother said he died iu consump- ; staircase, holding a candle, to light me.
tion nearly fifteen years ago." " Please corae up here, sir. Mother is not
" Fifteen years !" I cried, for I had set down able to come down."
twelve as the very outside limit of my visitor's So I passnd through the little entry, and
age. mounted the narrow staircase, and stood in
" Yes, sir, when I was six months old." the upper room of this lit tie house. Two rooms
" Whew Oh, here you are
! Why, where
! above, two below, were all it boasted, but it
did this manikin come from 1" was large enough for this family, had it been
And Elgar Hart, my nephew, aged
enter transplanted into purer air and broader space.
eighteen. Margaret had a cup, saucer, and Cramped up, as it was, iu the heart of a great
plate on the table before he could sit down, for city, hemmed in by houses on all sides that
my brave, beautiful boy, with his cheerful overlooked and overshadowed it, shut out from
voice and snunj smile, is the darling of the all but the tiniest patch of blue sky above,

house from the kitchen up. Even Airs. Rose's Ruggles Avenue was a fair type of the narrow,
frowns relaxed into smiles as she poured out foul streets where a city crowds her poor.
his tea. In the tidy but poor room, where my little
" Aint it cold? I 've been treating six tam- friend led me, I found the mother and the
bourine and singing girls to oysters and coffee baby, Allie. The first, pallid and weak, with
for Christmas eve, uncle. You should have the crimsou spot that stamps consumption on
seen them eat, poor little tots not bigger than her cheek, with hollow eyes and shrunken
this little one, atiy of the lot." lips, looked already fit for the grave to which
" This is Meta Burgiss, Edgar, the daughter she seemed hastening the other, sleeping
;

of one of my tenants." calmly, was puny, too, and feeble. Altogether

She stood up to drop a grave courtesy but ; a scene to make the heart weep.
Edgar reached his hand over the table. " I have ventured to intrude," I said, cnnrte-
" Shake hands, little one. We are good onsly, for my hostess was lady-like in attitude
friends now," he added, letting his strong and appearance, "to escort my little friend
hand close over her little one.
here home, and " here I hesitated. Sitting
She studied him for a moment with her won- there, in her arm-chair, her grandchild in her
derful eyes, then said, gravely : " Yes, sir." arms, she looked, in spite of her poor dress
And I, in my
uuprophetic blindness, did not and illness, so little an object of charity that I

even shudder at question or answer. scarcely knew how to proceed.

After tea, I took her home, her little hand "Yon are very kind," she said, holding ont
clasped in mine, while the big, well-filled bas- one thin hand. "Meta, set a chair for the
ket hung on my arm. I had proposed to put gentleman, and then take Allie, dear."
her iuto it, hoping to call out the merry laugh The child obeyed, lifting the sleeping babe
5U godey's lady's book and magazine.

with a womanly care aud gentleness that would We scarcely dared hope forhertolive throu<:h
have made one smile, only it was touchingly the spring ; but she did, and as the summer
sad, too. months brought roses to Meta's and Allie's
" have sent her away," said the mother, as
I cheeks, they came, too, laden with health-
the door between the rooms closed after the giving breezes for the mother. The thin cheek
children, " because I want to ask your kind- and the hollow eyes took a more healthy
filled,

ness for her, and for the baby. Only," she brightness, the stooping figure grew erect, and
added, hastily, as I was about to speak, " that the trembling fingers steady, while my con-
you will try to find them some asylum more science fairly groaned over the work the busy
tender than the almshouse." She paused for a hands turned out. It was all in vain I urged
moment, then spoke again " I have not a : that there was no hurry the dainty stituhes ;

relative to whom I can apply, and their father would turn the muslin and linen into shape,
was an Englishman all his relations are on ; and fill the handkerchief corners with pretty
the other side of the ocean. We stand alone ! devices.
Meta has been my scholar from a child, and I Meantime Meta was roving, free as a bird,
have been a teacher almost all my life as ; over the bright country. in May, I moved out
soon as she is old enough, she is competent to Edgar being at school, and found my little pale
teach; if, in the meantime ." Here a violent friend growing fast into a rosy cheeked country
fit of coughing broke the sentence. The inner girl, while wee Allie tumbled and tottered on

door opened, and Meta came in. the grass, plump as a partridge.
" Who is your mother's doctor ?" I asked. I could linger for hours over the memory of
She gave me name and address. that summer ; the memory of the molher's
"I will call to-morrow, when you are strong- gratitude, the child's respectful love, tlie me-
er," I said to the invalid, when she was quiet mory of long hours spent listening to Meta's
again, "and tell you what I can do. In the clear sweet voice, as she poured out her child-
meantime do not think of the rent, or let your like confidences to me, of her gentle, womanly
thoughts dwell too despondently on the future. care of Allie, of her mature old-fashioned house-
Good-night." hold ways, her neat and careful arrangement
She tried to speak, but I hurried away. At of and bedroom, her pretty interest
psirlor
the door, dropped a kiss on Mela's forehead,
I in the sewing she did for me, the memory of
a piece of gold on her candlestick, and started MoUie's stories of her care for mother and baby,
for the doctor. of her handy ways, her grave air over some
His judgment only confirmed my own. For household mystery, or ringing laugh when Allie
the mother there was no hope save in pure air, called for her attention. Such memories are
good food, gentle stimulus, and freedom from left me now to fill a void well, well, it is an
care ; for the baby, the same and my heart ; old man's story, let me tell it to the end.
responded with a similar decree for Meta.
Christmas day was surely the day for deeds of Five long years passed away, and the little

gentle charity so I drove out to the farm at-

; cottage still held its inmates, but in the place
tached to my country house, and laid my plans of a child's voice was heard a woman's tone ;

for the trio. The little furnished house, where was seen
in the stead of a frail, child-like figure
my gardener lived in summer, stood temptingly a graceful woman's form, fully developed by
vacant, and I think no pleasure of my life health, freedom, and carefnl education. In the
lingers so pleasantly on my memory as the place of a man's protecting interest in the child,
Christmas days when I arranged the home for had grown in my heart the man's strong, ten-
ray new tenants. Mollie Barry, the farmer's der love for the woman.
buxom daughter, was and excite- all interest Ah, how I loved her I All the pent-up ten-
ment, and readily promised to keep house for derness of my
youth and manhood was poured
the invalid, and nurse the baby. Three days at her feet all the lonely longing of my mature
;

later, cleaned, warmed, and habitable, the wee years was filled by her presence, lier voice, her
house opened its doors for the new inmates. I touch. Her child-like freedom, her tender grati-
gave Mrs. Burgiss a pile of muslin to cut and
tude all seemed to me the forerunners of the
make for me, handkerchiefs to embroider with love I coveted, and hoped to win. I had sent

initial letters, linen for shirts, and silk for cra- Edgar abroad, under careful guardianship, the
vats ; and so, having eased her delicate sense summer after the Burgiss family came to Oak-
of unwilling dependence, I left her to Mollie dale, and having but little to call me to the
and JMeta.i city, had spent most of my time at the country


META. A. CHRISTMAS STORY. 545

lionse. I had provided no masters for luy daily 1 drew her close to my lieait to icnew my
Jailing, watching the motlier'a careful leacli- vow to love, cherish, and protect her for all
ing,her refinement auil care bat as my buii uf
; life.

promise bldssumiul, I saw the perfect womanli- In the spring I w.as to make her my l)ride.

ness and thoughtful love of the teacher dupli- She had made her simple preparations, and we
cated and refined on the scholar. were to travel for months before she entered
It was on a haiy September afternoon, when my house as its mistress.
I was dreaming over all these things and think- Early in January, Edg.ar came home. He
ing I must soon let my child learu that the had grown from a merry-hearted boy into a
guardian had become the lover, when, without genial, whole-souled man. A man full of noble
even the ceremony of a knock, Mollie dashed impulses, warm, true purposes, and generous
into my library. resolves. A man to fill with a glad pride the
"Oh,
you please Mrs. Burgiss Miss
sir, if heart that loved him, as mine did. How his
Mela
oh, come quick ," and out she daslied hearty voice and merry laugh made the lonely
again, sobbing and running, before I could ask house echo, and my heart glad, can only be
a question. I followed qui. kly, found the cot- told by the contrast it made to the quiet of the
tage door open, and went up stairs. years of his .absence. I did not tell him of ray

Mrs. Bnrt'iss had ruptured a bloodvessel, engagement fearing it might prejudice him
.iiid lay on the bed, dying. Meta, pale as her .against Meta; but I m.ade my will, leaving
mother, but quiet .and calm, even in that trying
hira half my property as I had ever intended
hour, was washing the blood stains from the to do and I trusted to time and Meta's charms
pale lips, and trying to quiet Allie's screams. to reconcile him to an aunt, and a half heir-
"Take the child," I said to Mollie, " and send ship. I watched his speaking face telling its

John for the doctor. Quick 1" admiration when I took him to the cottage.
She snatched up the shrieking child, and ran The graceful figure in its deep mourning dress,
off to obey me. Too late, 1 felt but any action
; with the fair noble face crowned by its coronet

was relief. Even before she had left the door, of dark hair, was worthy of the low courteous
tlie pale lips closed quickly, the eyes look one bow, the gentlemanly greeting he gave, and
long loving look at the fair face above them, niy heart thrilled proudly over the homage my
and theu closed in death. She knew, she saw, darling received.
felt the truth, but she neither screamed nor Three months I passed, blind to the fate that
fainted. Gently, with tender reverence, she was before me then, with a shock, I aw>akened
;

folded the dead hands, and bent to kiss the
dead face. Then, reeling and shivering, she
turned t me. I opened my arms, and like a
child to a father, she came to me. No sob, no
cry, only the shivering, shaking form, the cold
hands and convulsive shudder, told of the
agony pent up in her poor heart. In the bitter
days that followed, I w.as her comforter, her
protector, her st.ay next the God to whom she
had from childhood carried her whole sonl.
Sustained by her religion, comforted by my
love, consoled by Allie's dependence, she bore
her great trial with resignation and hope. And
over the coffin where her mother lay, she stood
beside me, her hand in mine, her head on my
bosom my promised wife. Knowing in that
solemn hoar my love for her, my desire to
protect her from all life's ills, my
stand in parent's as well as husband's pl.ace
from my dream of love and hope. I never
blamed her never. The spring that was to
have brought me such joy was just opening;
the tender green buds just breaking the brown
covering that had sheltered them from the
winter's frosts, the sun-giving rays promised
future warmth all Nature opening and ex-
panding in the coming of sunshine, when the
sun of my life sank. I had started to take
Meta to walk it was early evening and moon-
light
and as I went up the steps to the cottage
door, I pictured myself forcing from willing
lips a time for our wedding. As my hand
touched the knob, I pausi-d. Sheltered by the
porch, I could, unseen myself, look into the
hear, through the open window,
little parlor,
every spoken word. And the words that para-
ambition to lyzed my hand on the door were, in Edgars
voice " Meta, my life, my love, hear me !"
:

to her, she put her untried heart into my keip- What wonder I stood rooted to the spot ?

ing, gave me her true, pure gratitude, thinking what wonder I could not move, as he poured
it love. I never blamed her I do not now,
: forth, in the hot, h.asty words of youth, the
my .Meta, my own precious child. story of his passion, pleading for a word of
.VU winter she lived with Allie in the little hope, praying for a look of love ?

cottage, sewing, and teaching the child, and Quiet, calm, pale as death, she stood erect
43*
 "

546 GODEY'S lady's book and ITAGAZTNE.

before him, till, exhausted with the force of his to forget, while she, she would return again to
own eloquence, he waited her answer in silence. me were he absent. A dream, but I was
fool's
Her dry lips moved twice before she spoke ;
a loving fool.
then, in an icy, constrained tone, she said : So when, pale and haggard, my handsome
" Did your uncle never tell you I have pro- boy presented himself to ask for permission to
mised to be his wife ?" return to Europe, 1 gave it gladly and promptly,
He reeled back as if she had struck him. and dropped no comment on his plans or altered
"My uncle's wife You, so young, so beauti-
! looks. He took a sadly afi'ectiouate leave of
ful, wedded to him me, left with a sick smile his farewell for his
"The noblest, truest heart on earth !" she "Aunt Meta," and left me.

said, warmly; "think what I owe him! My I said no word to Meta of our nuptials. I

mother's prolonged life, her comfort
my own happy home, Allie's health and joy-
ous childhood all, all that I am I owe your
uncle. G-od helping me, I will be to him a true,
faithful wife !"
" But not a loving one. You did not know
yonr own heart when you promised. Does
your heart throb for him as it does for me?
for years, saw by her pale face and added tenderness of
manner how she suffered and how she blamed
her own heart, but I only sought, by renewed
kindness and love, to win her back to the old
peaceful happiness, and link her heart with
her hand to mine. All the long summer
months, I saw her grow paler, but marked
too how she battled her love. I knew she

does your cheek flush at his step as at mine ? would be, as she had said, wy true, faithful wife,
does your eye light for him as for me ? I am but never my loving one. Such love as a child

a coxcomb a fool, if you will, to urge this, but gives its parent, as a ward her guardian, she
jou love me, Meta. As my heart tells me its gave me freely such love as a woman owes
;

own tale, it tells yours you dare not be false her husband, as I gave her, she could never re-
to it. You love me, Meta ?" turn to me.
Oh, the yearning agony of the question, even Slowly, reluctantly, I admitted this truth to
my heart thrilled to it. Wliat wonder, then, my heart, striving against it every inch of the
that she faltered and trembled she, whose way. Was it not enough that once before, iu
pure heart was an unconscious traitor to its the heyday of my youth, I had crushed my
vows. Yet strong and true, faithful even iu own heart to make way for another, exiled
that hour, she put back the temptation, and myself from the sunshine of my life that
spoke, clearly: "You forget yourself strangely ;
another might find life in its beams, but now,
go, I would be alone." when my old age was creeping on me, I must
Yet once again he urged his suit, kneeling go down to the grave lonely and uncheered,
to her, pressing his burning lips to her hands, that a young heart might add my one hope to
pleading praying out of his great love ; but its overflowing cup of life's treasures ! The
she stood firm through all, still and white, with struggle was a bitter one. Early winter found
those steady dark eyes looking reproof into me still undecided, but after one niglit of fierce
his, defying her own heart to rebel, till mad- temptation I wrote to Edgar.
dened by her cold firmness, he suddenly dashed Again Christmas was coming with its memo-
from the room, past me, into tlie air, rushing ries, and I asked my child if she would be

forward, blindly, recklessly. She stood for a wedded on Christmas eve.

moment where he left her then, witli a wail- ; She neither shuddered nor turned pale, only
ing cry of " Edgar Edgar !" slie threw herself
! lifted her large truthful eyes to mine, and said,

on the floor, sobbing out the whole weight of softly: "I will be your wife whenever you
that hour's agony. will."
And I ? Slowly, heavily, with laggard foot- My heart felt ashamed for its selfish struggles,
steps and a sick heart, I went my lonely way as read the triumph this young girl had
it

homeward. All night I lay heavily, wearing achieved over its temptation, but I only kissed
out the hours in bitterest agony of heart, with the broad forehead and softly thanked her.
no ray of comfort, no gleam of hope. Morning In the parlor of the little cottage, the pastor
found me agaiu looking forward. This was waited for It was Christmas
the bridal party.
but a boy's love of Edgar's, that could be con- eve, and Molly and were the guests bidden
Allie
quered by time, mine was the hoarded passion to the wedding. I waited below for my bride.

of a long life
his was a transient love of three As she came to my side in her pure white rai-
months' growth, mine the well-founded attach- ment, the starry orange blossoms crowning her
nieut of years. I would send him away again fair face, the long shadowy veil falling round
 ! ;

THE CASKET OF THE TEAR. 5-17

her graceful figure, I put back my paj^aionate Upon the beach, for gentle hands to thrine
In chambers where, cncrowntd and enthroned.
yearDing to cla.-sp her dose forever, ami drew
The soul sat all victorious I

her from the parlor door iuto the little room

O Year I

across the entry. How many ap!

idols tbon hast lifted
There, in some words I cannot recall, I told IdoN of Fame, Ambition, and of Gold ;

her of my unseen vigil on that April evening, Idols of Love, of FriendKhip, and of Faith,
Each on its pedestal by votaries crowned.
of Edgar's constancy, of my own renunciation.
And of them all, how many now lift up
I calledhim from his watch outside to clasp Their laurelled brows? The Parthenon of fame
their hands together, to hear lier sob of new, In ruin lies; the colossus of gold
strange joy, and crush out the last hope of my Lies prone in straits of fickle, fatal chance;
heart. I beard the service that united them Ambition's colii^eum shattered t^tacdi^;

Love's orange-blossoms 'neath Ihy frosty toach

as a man hears voices in his dream, and when
Have dropped away, and Friendsliip'u laurels droop
Edgar's voice thanked me for the Christmas
Above the faded ivy vines of Faith.
gift that made them independent of my bounty Year! O desolate Year of Grace!
in future, I could calmly and quietly wish them Thy battle-fields have darkened myriad bomen.
joy, while my tones sounded to me as if they And on our country's halli>wed altar lain
came from miles away. I think she read some- The best blood of her gallant sons the land ;

mourning Rachels weeping sons

Is full of ;

thing of this with her true woman's instinct,

T'l manhood's stature grown, upon whose aims
for her kiss on my lips was given with a rever- They hoped to lean in life's declining stage.
ence and awe that she had once as a little child O Year! thy shadow and thy snnshiue kept
accorded me. Such close companionship, we scarce can name
And now the Christmas eve brings uncle The victor in the contest. Life and Death,
Hope and Despair! and Joy and Grief, e^ich day
with full hands to decorate a tree for AUie, and
Their votiyies, and aye their victims bad.
!

a wee namesake of liis own, while his life is So in thy going, weak,
old, decrepid,
gilded by the love of two true, strong hearts, Burdened with memories, dying Year,
that keep his name in their prayers from Take with thee this poor solace: thou wast sent
Christmas to Christmas. Thy mission to fulfil, and thou didst but
Work out the dealing the Master's hand
Shaped out.

L 'EX vol.
THE CASKET OF THE YEAR. So finish we the casket of tho year ;

BT WILLIE E. PABOR. Its pearls are strung, each with its history.
Pfarl the Ttctl/th.December. And each a memento of the mouths.
brief

T>bcbmber's mantle, fnD^'ed with icicles, There are, whose eyes upon the earlier pearls
On mother arth has fallen on her breast
;
Fell lovingly, that now, all quiet rest

The while fl&kes io uch close compactness lie.

The casket idle and the pearls unstrung ;

That in the embrace all nature lies as still Gone hence to where the seasous never change, ^
S% thoa^h the hand of the destroyer hud Storms never come, or shadows ever fall.
Kate's flat laid upon it and the fiiky
;
God keep them in the fields wnere roses bloom
Hangs dark and ihreatenintr upon the hills And never fade, and where the lilies grow
In dreary aaison with field and flood By streams within whose waters they whu drink
;

The forests in their drapery of snow Eternal life shall find and never ending juy.

The stream$> insensate in the arms of ice There are, whose eyes have watched from first to la.-;t
RcTeal the pntses of the Winter king These twinings near and far, known and unknown,
;

Beating through all the nrterie'' of life We thus companionship have held, I trust,

SIu:gish, in token of the dying year, All pleasantly. Take, ere we part, the wish.
Whose footsteps, lingerinif on the shores of Time, All in my power to ^'ive : may coming mouths
Shalt seek oftsoon the inhabitable shades Bring more of sunshine than of shade to thee,
Wliere dwell departed year-; within whose rea'.m Dweller in homes afar or near upon ;

The Past is King and M.^mory Queen crowned ;

The Atlantic slope, or where the Pacific's wave
Where all the years, from Adam's time to oani, Washes the confines of tho Western laud ;

In solemn conclave ^'athered, wait to greet In quiet farm-house, by the sounding sea.
Another brother from the mortal laud Within the city or upon the plains,
)iow made immortal as thG;niselves, who wear Or anywhere, in this sad world of ours;
The anfading laurels of eternity. And 60, and so, farewell, farewell, farewell!
Year
ThoQ, ia thy going, takest in thy arms
Lips that with loving^, living lips have met
Never langh at your own wit leare that to ;
In close embrace; bosoms wherein life roigiicd
Ib passionate pulsation;); hearts whuM tide
others nor trouble company with your private
;

or love, forever sur^'ing down the shore concerns, for yonrs are of as little importance
Of Uue affeciion, ca-tts its tihihiuj^ ^-arla to them as theirs are to you.
 MARGAEET DARLING.
ET VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEXD.

"I'm afraid yon Ve gone a little too far, of a true and noble woman ; she would never
Maude," said Mrs. Woolcott, in a tone of very enter into your best and hiiihest self, never
mild objurgation. "You may liave broken sympathize with your truest purposes and
the young man's heart." movements ; she would never have strength-
I knew Of too healthy recuperative
better. ened, ennobled, redeemed you in any wise,
powers, too strong and muscular was the nature and there must have come a day and hour
of Ralph Hoadley to be crushed, wrecked, be- when the woman you had taken to wife
cause a woman had jilted him. Yet the blow would have disclosed herself to you, and you
would be a heavy one for all that. Of an in- must have had forced on you, oh, Ralph Hoad-
tense, exclusive nature, fine and generous ley, her vanity, her self-indulgence, her in-
withal, this man had brought the treasures of grained selfishness, and all her weak, petty

liis youth, its frankincense and myrrh, to the aims of living and doing the very narrow ;

altar on which he had placed this girl, Maude orbit in which herbeingrevolves. Y'ou wouldn't
Woolcott, and worshipped her. believe this now, and your heart will go court-
I turned and looked at her as she sat by the ing the treasure it vainly believes it has lost,

window, about which the early June roses for you brought your love all the heroism,
to
seemed kindledinto livecoals of fire, andthought all the loyalty that is in you all the rare and ;

she might exult, she had the heart, in the

if beautiful dreams and faiths which went to
power she had gained, in the pain, sharp and make up your ideal of womanhood. In your
deep, she had wrought a pain that must cost heart are princely lodgings and though you ;

many a weary day and many a fierce struggle gave the key to this woman, it is well she
before it was healed. dropped it from her fingers, else some time the
Just then, the face of Maude Woolcott showed shadow of her presence would have made their
her consciousness of this, and her triumph
all goodliest chambers desolate." So I stood de-
in the knowledge too, and it did not look fair murely by the piano, guiding Clara, the youn-
to me then, though it held the red bloom in ger sister of Maude Woolcott, through her
its cheeks, the lustre in its dark, brilliant eyes, morning exercise, while these thoughts arose
the shade and glow in its hair, and, perhaps, in me. Their thread was broken by Maude's
most attractive of all, the half smile on the voice, saying, in a slightly injured tone, in
daintVj crimson And with that glance
lips. which my keener perhaps than
intuitions,
the real moral lineaments of Maude Woolcott usual, detected a little throb of triumph :

seemed to disclose themselves to me as they " I 'm sure I 'm not to blame if Ralph Hoad-
had never done before. I beheld that under- ley's heart is broken. A woman cannot help
neath all the brightness, and wit, and piquancy it if a man falls in love with her, as I see, can

for which men and women praised and ad- she, Margaret?"
mired her, she was coarse, hard, selfish. "I suppose not, if she conscionsly does
I have had hints and intimations of this nothing to win an admiration or affection to
before, but I resolutely shut my eyes to them. which she can never respond."
Now would not ignore the truth or put it out
I Maude turned and looked at me a little curi-
of the way any longer, and my thoughts said ously, a little contemptuously, and yet not, oa
to me " After all, Ralph Hoadley, her No'
:
'
the whole, unkindly. I thi'ik slie liked me as
has done you far greater grace than her Yes' '
strongly as it was in her nature to. one of her
would. Y'ou don't suspect it now, but sooner own sex a liking that always puzzled me, anil t
or later the truth must have cleared itself up that she probably never analyzed. Perhaps
to yon, that this woman's soul was barren, the total contrasts betwixt us refreshed her,
meagre, superficial. There are in it no goodly and there was no room for rivalry or jealonfy
chambers of gold and purple, as you have in my case ;
perhaps old child memories and as-
dreamed. Self-sacrifice, tenderness, endurance, sociations held her with a loose sort (:f
still

all that makes the crown and glory of woman- bond, for Maude and I had been schoolraatt'S
hood, are not there. She would never exalt and playfellows in our girlhood, before h'-r
your life with the sweet, persuasive influences father went to the city and built his fine house,
648
 ;

MARGARET DARLING. 549

and aiiited !<o tnanj tboasanJs to his already position, and all the gods of this world. I

comfi>rl:ilile fortune.
" Do vou really nie.tii to say, Margaret, that
knew, too, that she h.ad tacitly encouraged the
attentions of llalph Uoadley to her daughter
I
;

any woman who has charms to win admiratiou Uiat day after day he had received flattering
wou't be pleased with it ?" welcomes to her house, that for mouths Maude
" Oh no, Maade ; only that a wrtman of ster- had exerted every art of which she was mis-
ling principles will not debase those charms to tress to win the admiration of this young man ;

draw a raan into proposals
thonght of accepting."
TTiis time the roses did deepen a little in her
cheeks, and I was almost startled to find how
closely my words had driven home. Had I
thonght twice, lack of moral courage might
have prevented so straightforward an .inswer to
her question, but Maude's laugh broke out the
next moment a bright, pleasant laugh it was,
; prided herself on her immaculate deportment
but somehow it grated on me this time.
" What a nice sentiment for a copy-book or
a story, Margaret, but women
which she has no that she had been absolutely certain of the
state of his feelings formonths, and had, in a
thousand graceful and delicate attentions, led
him to suppose that she reciprocated them,
and this at last enticed him to disclose them.
And all this time she was the betrothed wife
of another man. And Mrs. Woolcott, who
always talked such proper sentiment, who
in all respects, had looked with smiling com-
placence at the sin and shame of her daughter's
conduct So, not willing yet to believe such
I

'>'ot too bright and good weakness and wrong of those I had esteemed,
For hamau Daturc's daily food* I caught at a last hope.

can't exactly practise such sort of precepts "Maude,'' I said, almost appealingly, "it
at least, very few of them do." isn't true what Clara says
you haven't been
"The best women don't always get married," engaged all this time ?"
interposed her mother, in a tone which plainly She pl.ayed daintily a moment with the roses
showed she regarded a degree of goodness in her hands, that seemed to run like a red
which lessened one's chances for matrimony tlame along the broken branch. "Well," she
as, at least, very unfortunate. answereil, complacently, " I don't know but I
And again Maude's clear, bright laugh, with am, with certain provisos, you see, which allow
the little heartlessness that grated, preceded me a door of escape if I choose to avail myself
her words. "Well, I don't aspire to any of of it."
those superfine virtues ; indeed, I have such " Don't know but you are !" said my bright,
strong doubts whether I am good enough for spoiled pupil. " You know that you expect to
anything better than matrimony that, if the be married next Christmas, just as much as I
aightman came along, I should be very likely do not."
to accept him." Mrs. Wooloott came to the rescue, "fliara,
" But, Maude," interposed her sister, a bright Clara, don't you know t*at family secrets are
outspoken "
heard Aunt Jane
girl of thirteen, I not to be alluded to in that open fashion ?"
tell mamma it was shameful
that she thonght ^Pput on my bonnet with a kind of sickness
for you to carry on a flirtation with Mr. Uoadley, of heart, that morning, and I bade the elder
when you were engaged to Mr. Loring." and the younger lady " Good- by," with a feel-
"Aunt Jane is an old maid," responded ing that I would not have their sin on my soul
Maude, in a tone which showed she thought for all the wealth and pleasur(t that surrounded
tli.at fact settled the worth of her aunt's opin-
them not even for that which seemed muck
ions. greater in comparison, the love of Ralph Hoad-
"Girls are girls," said Mrs. Wooloott, evi- ley. Not that I was enamored of this young
dently a little annoyed by her younger daugh- man ; it, but I knew him for a
nothing like
ter's remarks, "and apt to be a little thought- generous, manly soul, a little enerv^ed, it
less. I do not suppose you intended to do might be, by over-prosperity a nature that
anything wrong, my dear, but this will be a probably needed a little of the reasoning and
warning to you in future, and I hope no harm toughening which a hard battle with the world
from it to the young man."
will result and some of its rugged realities would have
I looked at Mrs. Woolcott in a mixtnre of given him, but a brave, tender, true nature for
amazement and indignation. I knew that she all that, loyal to his highest convictions of
was worldly, conventional. I knew her wor- truth and goodness, always. I cannot go into
ship for what she termed "respectability," the particulars of all that made me cognizant
which included wealth, acknowledged soda! of Ralph Uoadley 's character. Suffice it, I liad
550 godky's lady's book and magazine.

been daily at the house since the Woolcotts Hoadley had only expectations from a crabbed,
came, early in the summer, to their country capricious uncle,who was liable to take offence
I had given up my school that term,
seat, for at his nephew for any whim, and cut him off
and Mrs. Woolcott was desirous that Clara without a dollar."
should make rapid proScieucy in music. So I " I know that, mamma, and I 've acted the
had been thrown much into the society of the wiser part in not letting my tastes subvert my
young people, and while Ralph Hoadley was judgment and yet, if Ralph Hoadley's fortune
;

hardly conscious of my presence, so absorbed had rested on half as secure a foundation as

was he in the society of Maude, I had, as you Benjamin Loring's, I should not have hesitated
see, reached certain conclusions respecting the betwixt the two men."
essential character of the man. It was not my fault that I once heard this

Margaret Darling, was the daughter of a

I, passage of the conversation betwixt mother and
clergyman, who had been dead several years, daughter. I tried in various ways to assure
and widow and only daughter the me-
left his them of my presence in the ante-room.
mory of a fragrant with deeds of love and
life

self-sacrifice, and about as much worldly goods It was spring ouce more, and I was out in

as clergymen, whose lives, even, are not in- our front yard, among the crocuses, plucking a
sured, are in the habit of leaving their families. few of the purple, and yellow, and white fla-

My mother was an invalid. My father's gons, and thinking how the sad eyes of my
parishioners were kind, but dependence is gall- mother would kindle at the sight of them.
ing to some natures. I happened to be of this The earth was drenched in the sunshine of a
sort. So, as I could not leave my mother, for New England May. The wind came over the
any pecuniary considerations, I obtained a situ- hills in vagrant currents spiced with sprouting
ation in the village academy, where the salary fern, and and
sweet forest scents,
sassafras, all

was small, and the work arduous, but we man- and the robins sang they built their
for joy as
aged to live on it, and the parish generously nests among the branches, where the young
allowed us to retain the little parsonage, under leaves made a line of green flame. It was a
whose roof so many sweet and tender associa- day sent of God, at once a witness and a pro-
tions concentrated. phecy. Margaret Darling, rejoiced in it, and
I,

Several weeks after the conversation, tran- was glad. I had few deeper outward sources
spired, which 1 have recorded, I met Mr. Loring, of happiness than days like this. My life cer-
the gentleman whom Maude was to marry the tainly had very little of the warmth and color
coming Christmas. 1 did not like him, although which are the right of youth, and I was young
he was a polished, courteous gentleman. He yet, just beyond my twenty-fourth birthday.
was a good many years her senior, a man who It was hard sometimes to feel the years slip-
Lad made a large fortune, and evidently con- ping away from me, with so little color or fra-
sidered this his chief olaim to consideration ; a grance in them. It was hard, and grating, and
shrewd business man, not lacking in inteU^ bitter sometimes to go through the same dull
genoe, and with a sharp eye always on WB" routine of school duties, and little home cares,
main chance but faith, heroism, self-sacrifice
; to be just able to keep the wolf from the door,
for truth, or principle's sake, this man had and no more than that. It was hardest of all
nothing to do with these things would have to look in my mother's sad, tender face, and
counted them all as vagaries. comprehend the pity, and regret, and yearning
I think Maude sometimes felt the contrasts that I knew for my sake lay always at the core
betwixt these two men, and the woman in her of her heart. But, with God's help, I tried to
experienced some want, or loss, that the rejected carry my through
soul patiently, faithfully
lover's devotion had supplied. I overheard much of craving, of restlessness, and bafiied
her saj^nce to her mother, in a slightly ennu- aspiration.
ied, dissatisfied tone, "Mr. Loring is very proud That morning, though, I was glad, as glad as
of me, and all that, and when I am his wife, I the birds on the leaves through which the spiced
sliall be indulged in every luxury to my heart's snow were
vines shivered, because the linens of
content, but he isn't half as handsome as Ralph all rolled no fringe of them was left in the
up ;

Hoadley, nor his society half as inspiring. I darkest hollow and I was singing some frag-
:

sometimes think I should have done better if I ment of an old household tune, when a voice
had married him." reached me from the gate, a soft, tremulous
"But you know, my dear, that you have a voice, with some fear or pain behind it.
certainty to depend upon now, while Ralph "Miss Darling?"
 1 "

M.VKGARET DARLIXG. 55

I lookfd np. At the wicket stood a yonng, the rent, or they leave the premises within two
pretty face, with roses in it, somwwhat blaiicUed weeks.
HOT : and the eyes, which liad the purplish They had no other home in the wide world.
blue of harebells, held tears in them. Lucius was not able to leave his chamber, and
Susan Crofts, a former pnpil of mine, in the it would certainly be the death of the old wo-

middle of her teens, was a pretty girl, remark- man to go out from the roof under which sh*
ably intelligent too, considering her advantages. had dwelt for so many years. And the girl

She lived with her grandmother and young
brother in the little red honse just beyond the
tow path and the old mill. I saw at once that
the girl was in trouble, so I harried toward
her, showering along the path, in my eager-
ness, the purple and yellow crocuses.
"Susan, my child, what is the matter?"
Her voice struggled for the words and lost
them. They were choked, drowned in a sob.
So I drew her into the house, and across the
hall to the pleasant little sitting-room, where
mamma sat in her easy chair by the window,
concluded her story with another storm of tears.
Surely they were in bad case.
Mamma and I looked at each other. One
thought was in the heart of both, and that
was, " Somehow we must help her."
But we could not discuss the ways and means
in ber presence. She had come to ns as her
only friends, and we did not send her away
without comfort. We told her to keep heart
for a day or two, and we would see what could
be done in this matter. She was in the right
to trust us we would not fail her in this thing.
;

cicatrizing a very small rent in my best lace And the blushes that were so natural to them
collar. came back to the girl's cheeks, and there was
I made what brief explanation the case de- hope in her heart and face when she went out
manded. " Mamma, this is Susan Crofts. She of tlie door.
is in some trouble, and I have brought her in " Now, mamma, the question is, What is to

here to share it with you and me." be done ?" I said, so soon as we were alone,
Mamma's sympathies were in her face, as she pacing up and down the sitting-room.
took the brown plump hand in her thin, .soft " Your question stares me in the face, Mar-
fingers. "Let us know what this trouble is, gary, and I don't know how to answer it."
and if we cannot help yon out of it," said the " But we must not let this old woman, and
soft, persuasive voice of Mrs. Darling. that sick boy, and helpless girl, be turned out
But the teai-s had first to clear a way for the into the cold of the world, without a roof to
words. Then they came with a vividness and shelter them. I could not rest a night in
pathos that gave to the sad little story a power peace, thinking of it. And yet fifty dollars is
and meaning that my pen never saw. a great deal of money for people like us to raise.
Susan Crofts had neitlier father nor mother. How are we to do it ?"
Her grandmother was bowed with the infirmi- "There's my watch," faintly ventured
ties of age and rheumatism, and the small mamma.
family was mostly dependent for its subsist- ^d| was my father's. I knew what it wonld

ence upon the services of Susan's brother, Lu- ffi her to part with this. She should be
cius, a bright, active youth, a year his sister's spared that pang at all events. My decision
senior. The boy cultivated the acre or two of was a rapid one.
land about the house, and has always had "No," with a little deprecatory gesture, for
plenty of work at harvest lime but the year ; the very thought cost me pain also. " Yon
before he had met with a serious fall while must never speak of parting with that. I must
clambering np a precipic, and had been totally save this money out of luy nest half year's
incapacitated for exertion. salary. It may require some new lessons in
The doctors feared for awhile internal inju- the practice of domestic economy, but it caa
ries, but the recuperative forces of his healthy be done."
youth triumphed at last, and the boy was now " But, my child, you will have to see this
on the road to recovery. But in the meantime cold, hard man. Squire Hoadley, yourself, and
the family resources had entirely failed, and pledge your word to secure him his rent, or
the long illness of Lucius had superadded many he will not consent to the arrangement."
expenses. But their creditors had been very This was a most disagreeable part of my duty,
considerate, and the heart of the little house- which I had not counted on, but there was no
hold had not failed, until Sqnire Hoadley, who getting aside of it. I must go up to the silent
owned the little homestead, had sent them a gray stone house on the hill, and have an in-

message stating absolutely that he must have terview with its owner, that stern, inflexible
552 GODET S LADY'S BOOK AXD MAGAZIKE.

old man, of whom very few in the world spoke lifehad been to make money, and he had suc-
Well. ceeded and yet something in his face bore
;

But it is not in my nature to put off any dis- witness that the success had cost too great a
agreeable work when I have made up my mind price
that for gold this man had defrauded
to it, so I said: "I will go this very evening, his better nature, its sympathies, its tender-
and have it all over with before I sleep." nesses, all its sweetest and noblest impulses, and
It was a little after sunset when I started for anchored him at last in a bard, bitter, loveless
Squire Hoadley's, a pleasant evening, into old age. I introduced myself as the old man
wliose arms tlie golden day was dropping softly. rose up, with his eyes seeming to pierce my
Its pulse thrilled with the strong life of the face :
" Miss Darling, sir, the daughter of the
awakening spring, the springing grass perfumed late clergyman with whom you were somewhat
tlie air,but somehow the sounds and pictures acquainted, I believe."
of eartli and sky failed to win my thouglits. Squire Hoadley bowed, andoflFered me a chair
Tliey went back nearly two years before, and with a somewhat stately courtesy, and some-
anclioredamong those days wlien I gave Clara thing in his manner showed him a little sur-
Woolcott music lessons. The family had not prised or puzzled at my visit.

made a visit to tlieir country-seat since that I was not long in explaining its object. "I
time. come in behalf of some humble fjiends of mine,
Maude became Mr. Loring's wife at Christ- who are your debtors the Crofts family."
The
mas, and I have a long letter from my favorite iron face darkened, and settled into absolute
pupil describing the bridal festivities, with denial or defiance. I saw at once that this man
cards and a dainty box of cake. suspected I had come to make some appeal to
As for Mrs. Loring, she was now, doubtless, his sympathies. As soon should 1 have thought
leading a life of fashionable g.ayety in New of calling on a rook to hear and have pity. I

York. hastened to assure him here. " I do not come

Then my
thoughts recurred to the nephew to seek any charity on your part for these peo-
of the man
was seeking. He had sailed for
I ple I come simplj' on a business matter, and
;

Europe soon after liis rejection, and had not to give you my word that you shall have the
returned since. I wondered if the young man rent in a couple of mouths, if you will wait so
had found the Lethe he sought in that foreign long."
tour, and if time and reflection had not revealed " But who is to raise the money, and how
some infirmities in the lady of his worship. am I to be certain of it ?" asked the hard, dry

I remembered, too, that I contrasted the voice of Squire Hoadley.

uncle and the nephew in my thoughts, the "I am to raise it, as soon as my salary is

one pompous, exacting, with but one

rigid, due. you have any furtlier hesitancy, the
If

spring of tenderness in his heart, and that w.as trustees of our academy will hold themselves
for his nephew and the oilier what I have
; responsible for this sum, I am certain."
described him, and I wondered at the diffei'ence There was a little pause. This rich old man,
betwixt these two, so closely allied. whose god was his gold, looked at me from
And so wondering, I reached in the twilight under his iron gray eyebrows. " I will take
that gray stone house that stood in the midst your word," he said, at the last " I will wait ;

of its dark shrubberies about a mile from my a couple of months for my rent."
own. I had not come on a pleasant errand, My errand was done theu, Irosenp. "Thank
and it cost me a little struggle before I could you, Squire Hoadley," I said; "you do me, as
go up to the front door and pull the bell. well as your tenants, a very great favor."
In a moment I was uslfered into a large I have never known what prompted the old

sitting-room, whose dark, massive furniture man's next remark. It may have been a slight
seemed in some fine sense to harmonize with curiosity, for I suppose that rich men and
the face and figure tliereof. There he sat, a misers are not always without this feeling.
large, heavily framed man, with the frosts of "I cannot understand, Miss Darling, how my
seventy years in his hair, and under that a decision is to be of service to you ?"
hard, resolute face, whose expression concen- turned with an impulse to reach, if it were
I

trated into an iron rigidness about the lips. possible,that old man's conscience to find
The deep-set eyes were dark and shrewd, and some words that should strike down through
gleamed with a stem kind of brightness far un- tliat hard arid nature to some regret or convic-
der the iron gray eyebrows. tion of his soul.
The one aim and purpose of this old man's " You will do me a service, Squire Hoadley,
 MAROAKET DARLING. 553

because the thonght of that old womiin and her My walk from the Academy home was a long
helpless grandchildren, turned ont in tlie world cue, and fierce gusts of wind threw the cold
without a roof to shelter them, will haunt me rain in my face, and whirled and beat the
no longer and because the knowledge tliat I
; small umbrella which I carried, and which
failed at any personal sacrifice to save them proved so inefl'ectual against the doublestorm.
would, it seems to me, follow me through life, " My umbrella is large enough for two.
aud bear witness against me one day before Won't you come under its roof. Miss Darling ?"
God." I knew the voice, which overtook me in the
My
words had struck home. I saw the old, lane, before I looked at the owner. I couhl
stern face falter, and then the gray eyes seemed not choose but accept the invitation, and it
to grow lurid with anger, but I did not wjiit was a great comfort to receive the new protec-
longer I bowed, and passed from the room,
; tionand support which Ralph Hoadley's arm
and so my first interview, and my last, with and umbrella afforded for I never would have
;

Squire Uo.idley was over. fought my way unaided through the storm ;

I had some little difficulty in unclosing the and if I could not find words at the moment
front door, an<l while I stood there a voice to thank the young man for his courtea^^^m
spoke suddenly at my side "Allow me to certain mamma did, when she cama^^^fte
open it for you, Miss Darling," and looking up door, and he resigned me to her care. ^^^
I confronted Ralph Hoadley. After this, v.astly to the surprise of both of
These two years of travel had changed him us, Ralph Hoadley called occasionally at the par-
somewhat. They had bronzed his cheeks, aud sonage. I think his visits always left some
added new strength to the lithe slender figure ; lightbehind them, and then he used to fill my
but I could not mistake tlie rare smile in which long-starved spirit with stories of the world he
the eyes now seemed to do keener service than had seen. He had a marvellous gift of word
the lips. painting. On that canvass of speech would
"Thank yon," I said ;
" I was not aware you arise and glow in all their ^stateliness, and
had returned." warmth, and splendor the cities he had seen,
" I got hack in the last steamer, and have the fair lands he had visited. I would seem
only been here twenty-four hours," giving me to see landscapes among the tropics, throbbing
his hand and regarding me with more earnest- out from his words with all their wonders of
ness than he had ever done before. sky, and mountains, and foliage. Birds of
I wondered, aswent down the tow-path to
I marvellous beauty would flame along the air;
the little rod house by the mill, whether Ralph the cries of wild beasts would shiver like a
Hoadley had heard the <;onversation which had living terror through the stillness of the lonely
transpired betwixt his uncle aud myself. He jungle; then the desert, vast, and gr.ay, and
came out of an adjoining room, so was not
it awful, would stretch away to the hot, de.ad sky.
impossible ; and if so, how keenly he must And so picture followed picture of grace, gran-
have felt that terrible greed of gold in his near- deur, or savage splendor but this was not all.
;

est relative on earth, and in one, too, who, Ralph Hoadley had grown, what every tra-
though cold and hard to all the world beside, veller should, a wiser and a better man. He
still loved him. One thing was
certain, how- had learned lessons not only from nature, but
ever, he had quite recovered from the blow from humanity. His faith, his charity, his
which Maude Woolcott's refusal had cost him. love for God and man had deepened and broad-
One could see that, looking in his face, and ened. 1 Jilt this. He had needed the sorrow,
Mrs. VVoolcott's ftars need never have existed. the struggle, the change, to strengthen and
But all speculations regarding Ralph Hoadley ripen his character. Would any influence of
were abruptly terminated, when I reached the liis be able to reach the hard old man who
dwelling of the Crofts, and revealed to the lit- dwelt in the gr.ay stone hon.e on the hill, and
tle family the result of my interview with the
who, of all the world, loved only lii'mf
Squire. How boundless was their joy and I heard from the Crofts occasionally. Ralph
gratitude and how abundant, "pressed down
!
Hoadley had been there, too, with his stinni-
aud overflowing," was the measure of reward latiug presence and kindly words, that always
which that hour meied out to me I gladdened the hearts of the poor, and he had
Into the last of May there came suddenly a sent the sick boy presents of early peaches and
cold, dreary rain, as
though the year had for- grapes from the hot-houses, but he never al-
gotten and wandered back from all its
itself, luded to the debt they owed his uncle, and
warmth, and joy, and thrilling life into March. they fancied he did not know it. I had my
VOL. LXVII. 44


551 godey's lady's book and magazixe.

doubts, but I did not reveal them. I never I left Stoneham, bat I found my uncle's affairs
paid however.
it, in a great deal of confusion. Contrary to my
Somewhere in the early June, Squire Hoadley expectations, however, nearly half of the for-
had ti'tings that a rich house in the East Indies, tune which he spent his life in amassing will
with wide commercial relations in every part be saved. Poor Uncle Stephen He was a !

of the had suddenly failed. In this

globe, good friend to me from the time that I was left
liouse the Squire had emb.%rked full half of his fatherless and motherless in my boyhood."
large fortune. The knowledge of its ruin And I knew what the sigh and the "Poor
proved too much for him. Anxiety and agita- Uncle Stephen" meant.
tion at last brought on convulsions, and these In the pause which followed I said, knowing
ended in an attack of apoplexy, from which he that my embarrassment betrayed itself in face
never recovered. Have I not said that gold and voice:
was his god ? "Your nncle's estate has a small claim
So one morning, when the earth came out against me, of about fifty dollars. I should
of the night in a fresh anointing of June sun- have settled it before, if the t^quire's death and
sl^^u the air thrilled with the song of birds, your leaving had not deprived me of au oppor-
t|^^Kl tolled, and the stone house on the hill tunity."
iraiWIng with black, and old Squire Hoadley Ralph Hoadley looked at me, after I had thus
was dead 1 spoken, with a look that Icould not analyze.
Ralph Hoadley left Stoneham immediately His lips smiled faintly, but the smile seemed
after the funeral, and I did not see him for only a flickering light which floated on au
nearly five months. ocean of deeper feeling, an ocean which was
One afternoon in November he suddenly ap- stirred and troubled now. At last he spoke.
peared at our house. The Indian summer had " 1 understand you," he said. " I was in the
come at last, trailing its golden skirts along next room, and overheard your interview with
the very borders of winter ; the soft air was my uncle."
seasoned with the breath of perishing leaves ; My suspicion was confirmed now. I tried lo
sky and earth together wore that smile of speak, but instead of words came blushes burn-
tender pathos whicli is the year's last, which ing into ray cheeks.
goes out in the cold, and darkness, and storm Au'l then Ralph Hoadley took my hand.
of December. "Margaret, little Margaret," he said, "you
I stood by the open window dividing my at- have no reason to blush for that time."
tention betwixt the day outside and an antique He had never called me by this name before.
china vase, which I had just filled with late Tlie words were strange enough, but stranger
golden pears, bordering the margin with sprays still was the tone in which they were .set. What

of dark green leaves and crimson berries, that did that unutterable, appealing tenderness
flashed among them like gems, concentrating mean I I could not look up in Ralph Hoadley 's
in their burning hearts the lost summer's face to answer me.
warmth and heat. Mamma loved bright colors " And Margaret," said the voice once more,
and vivid contrasts, and the antique vase had " from that evening I began to know and to
been her mother's. I was preparing a little love you. The vision of the sweet, pale face,
surprise for her suddenly a voice called my
; that I used to meet so often, with only a pass-
name near the window. I looked out. There ing glance because of that blind folly, that mad
was Ralph Hoadley, with those deep, gray eyes worship of my youth, wholly outlived, sorely
that were like his uncle's for brilliancy, but
repented of that face came back to help, to
not like them in the kindly smile they borrowed gladden, to inspire me. Ah, Margaret, it may
from his heart, looking at me. be that I needed that lesson, bitter though it
" Is it your fate, or your fault, that you al- was, to learn what a true woman must be in ten-
ways come with a sirrprise?" I a.ked, as he derness, and self-sacrifice, in faith in God, and
lifted his hat; and then I went to the door to help for man, help for all times and circum-
meet him. stances, for all weal and woe, sweet, tender,
He came in, and sitting down by the open enduring to the end, about his life. Lo such !

window, our talk touched a variety of common-

a womnn have I found Margaret, little Mar-
place themes, sucli as the weather, the lost garet Darling, must 1 go away from her?"
summer, my vase of fruit. At last he made it Wliat my answer was, dear reader, or
a little more personal. whether I made any, I surely cannot tell.
'
I did not intend to be absent so long when Hut, au hour later, I carried out to mamma
 ; !

LEGEND. POETRY. 555

a present, not the antique vase of cliina piled not yet supplanted by modem improvements,
with golden fruit, around which the red berries for the fabrication of lace by hand. She taught
flamed like jewels, but auotlier, her future son- the art to the village maidens. Specimens of
in-law, Ralph HoadUy! their work were carried to the fairs ; the beau-
tiful uovelty at once caught the public taste,
and tlie disheartened peasantry of the Er:ij<hitije
found themselves in possession of a profitable
LEGEND UPON THE INVENTION OF LACE.
and permanent branch of industry. From them
BT MRfl. R. C. COVA.'*T.
spread into other countries
it ; aud hand, or
I MET, the Other dav, with so pretty a legend thread, or bone lace, as it is variously called,
of the modern invention of lace, that, in the became thenceforth one of the cliief birthrights
absence of all other specific information on the of the industrious poor. It is pleasant to
subject, have adopted it as the true one.
I It know that from the date of this invention It

gives a kiud of consecration to the favorite or- has not ceased to he a flourishing business in
Danieut of women, baptizing its infancy in the the place of its birth, and that at the present
gracious font of womanly kindness. In the time it gives employment, in that littl^^|^ict
middle of the sixteenth century there lived in alone, to not less than twenty thousani^^^pt'.
the Saxon Erzgehirge a noble lady, Barbara Some fifty years since, the grateful inh^^Wnts
Utimau by name, the wife of a rich tnine- erected in the churchyard of Annaberg, where
oivner, of the district. By birth she belonged Barbara Uttmau was buried, a monument to
to the distinguished Elterlein family of Nurem- her memory. It represents her as sitting, the
herg. Tlie heart of this good woman was de- cushion in her lap, while an angel crowns her
voted to the interests of poor of the rougli,
tlie with a garland, aud bears the inscription :

liarren, mountain region where lay her hus- "In the year 1,101 she became, through the
hand's property, who were reduced at this time invention of thread lace, the benefactress of the
to great straitsby the decline of the mining Erzgehirge."
business, which had furnished their chief sup-
port. The culture of their sterile Boil was
wasted labor and utter, liopeless poverty was
;

creeping over the once comparatively thriving "ALL ALONE."

community. In this state of things the kind BY LILT LEA.
soul of Barbara Cttmau was incessantly revolv- Ltfr-leaves dead, and brown, and sere,
ing plans for the relief of these wretched peo- Kound the threshold, loue and drear,
ple. One day, accidentally entering an old Rnstle in the antumn breeze ;

Rain-drop-s slowly fall and freeze!

shaft which h,ad been recently re-opened, her
Soft lips hushed,
eye w.as caught by a long stretch of ancient
Touny loves crushed,
Bpider-webs, of fantastic and complex patterns, Briirht hopes scattered,
glimmering against the moist wall in the early Harp-strings sluittered I

sunlight which fell into the aperture. An in- Withered flowers, and vines, and tears,
Cover graves of earlier years !
ventive thought fell, at the same instant, like
au inward ray, into the brain of this daughter Threads of song no loved one sings.
of Nuremberg. Faded (garlands, broken rings.
With "the prophetic eye of
Treasured locks of waving hair,
taste," and with the wom.an's eye, we may
Snatches of some yearning prayer ;

add, she saw in the delicate product of the in- Many a token
sect-weaver the suggestion of a charming addi- Of deep vows broken:
tion to the cumbrous richness of a medieval Ling'iing gleams

attire, and alre.ady beheld in fancy

Of olden dreams
the airy
Grief in every wind-harp sighing
web relieving the gorgeous brocades and da- Liviug on, yet ever dying !

masks which the patrician families of her

in
Gloomy days and weary nights
native city delighted to array their goodly per-
Ko blessed ray the spitit lights
sons. " Why cannot human hands," thought ;

Haunting phantoms come aud go-

she, "do what the spider's hands have done?" Shades of bitter wrong and wo !

She mused and mused. Day after day slie re- Torn heart bleeding,
turned to the old shaft to study the work of Ever pleading,
Sad, deprest.
her little teacher, and then experimented at
For peace and rest
home. The resnlt, in due time, was the pillow ptill one prayer, one wish, one moan.
aud bone, the simple but effective instrumeuts, Life-lung, sighing, "AU alone!"
 THE DAILY GOVEENESS. I

"Here I am, dear mother, a finished article !"

She was standing in the parlor of the cosiest
(.Sf- Stffl Plaie.)

BY MAUY FORMAS.

young girl home. She had been to the vill.ige

for some little luxury for tea, in honor of the
1
cottage you ever saw, and as she spoke
little occasion, but she let the basket go, and gave
she drew herself up, and with a supremely her "dear child" both hands in welcome.
ridiculous burlesque of importance, she sud- " Maggie, you shame us all with your roses,"
denly dropped a low, graceful courtesy. Upou said the dear child, kissing her heartily, "and
the floor at her feet stood a large trunk, and as you are ten years younger than you were last
she spoke she rapidly pointed out the objects holidays."
shuj^itioned. "Always at your fun," said the gratified
^^^ve my French classics, over which I
's woman; "now you just sit down by your
lia^^^red till my hair felt prematurely gray ;
mother, Miss Bertha, and I 11 unpack your
there 's my geometry, every question and things. Dear, dear, here "s all your pretty
answer within its covers being painted indel- things, no use at all."
ibly upon my memory there are my drawing
; "Oh, they keep," was the answer, as Miss
tools, my music, my slate, grammar, histories, Bertha looked at the colored dresses in the
and in short all the mine of learning which I trunk, and then at her own deep mourning.
have been wojking for the last eight years, " suppose 1 ought
I to be quieter in this dress,
and last, not least, here is dear Mrs. Grey's mother."
letter of recommendation I" " Why, my dear, I don't see how you can
" But you will not want that just yet. You feel your grandfather's death very much. To
are to rest for a month or two. Come here, be sure he left you a ring, and enough to buy
and let me look at you." our mourning, but he has never been to see me
The young girl tossed down an armful of or you since your father died. He did not like
clothes she had just lifted from the trunk, and your father's marrying an American, and never
went to her mother's side, gravely standing felt very cordial to me. Still he ims your

erect for inspection. With a quick perception grandfather, and so we will wear this dress for
of the joyous happiness of coming home that a year, though we can scarcely say we mourn
lighted her child's eyes and brought the rich for him. Y'our Uncle Rodney was here yester-
glow to her face, her mother said, scanning her day."
critically: "Tall, good figure, well carried; The pucker in Bertha's face did not speak of
fair complexion, plenty of color, dark, curling any enthusiastic love for the uncle in question,
hair, huge black eyes, good features, pretty but she began a history of her last quarter at
feet and hands. Well, Miss Watson, I think school, with all the lively grace and wit that
you'll do!" characterized her descriptions.
Too impulsive and too happy to keep a grave Bertha Watson was the only child of an
face long, Miss Watson was already on her English officer, who died when she was a wee

knees, her face resting on her mother's breast, baby, leaving his widow nothing but a pension
her voice trembling with its burden of love. for her support, and the baby Bertie for her
" You darling I am so glad to come home,
! comfort. She was an American lady, of good
though Mrs. Grey was very kind, and there family, and one of several daughters, whom he
were lots of nice girls in the school. I have had met while on a pleasure trip to the States,
studied hard, and now we will have a real cosy, and won to accompany him to his European
lazy time till I find a situation." home. There was not much romance in the
" Lazy 1 You could
not be lazy if you tried. story, but after Captain Watson's death, his

There, you are off again !" father had rather ignored the widow and child,
"To get this mess out of the parlor. Ah! sending them occasionally some game or fruit
here comes Maggie !" from his country seat, and allowing them the
The mother's welcome was scarcely more use of their cottage rent-free, but otherwise
cordial than that of the middle-aged respecta- holding them as rather beneath his notice.
ble servant, who now came to welcome the Rodney, his eldest sou, was his favorite, aud
556


THE PAILY GOTER>'ESS, 557

liHviiig never married an American lady, bat, mile from the village ;
yoa can often come
on tlie omtiary, patiently aucepting the rich home." ^^
Tvife his father himself selected for him, he had " Corae^Bme every evening ; she is only
centred all the love left from his money bags wanted for a daily governess."
on his heir. " How many children, uncle?"
As Bertha grew from infancy to childhood, " Six ! All little girls except Harry, the only
her grandfather offered to defray the expenses son, who is about four years old ; the others
of her education, that in time she might be run up to Hattie, who and the oldest.
is fifteen

aV>le to teach for her own snpport, and placed You are to teach them everything, and the
her, when ten years old, in a first class boarding- salary is good, 50 a year."
scliool, with ail the " extras" at her command. "Enormous !" said Mrs. Watson, bitterly.
animated, and intelligent, the child
(Jraceful, "Quite enough with your in-
for comfort,
snon won her way to the hearts of her teachers, come. I will try to meet you Monday, Bertha ;

and for eight years studied faithfully, striving,
as she grew older, to win praise and prize at
each half-yearly examination, till at eighteen
she was returned home, having passed through
the school routine creditably, and with more
than an average share of honor.
Warm-hearted, loving, and cheerful, she was
Dot one to pine over the prospect of being a
governess, or to bring a whine or sigh to grieve
her mother, but with the ready pencil of youth
painted such a life of toil abro.id, and love at
home, as m.ade the mother's heart throb exult-
ingly over her only, darling child.
They were still talking over past and future,
content to let the present rest in the fact that
they were together, when a quick, heavy tread
on the frosty ground outside, made Bertha's
fairforehead contract in a frown, and her
mother give her a half-laughing, half-reproving
shake of the head.
" Now for a lecture, mother," whispered the
yonng girl, as the step came up the wooden
steps, and into the entry. " How are you.
Uncle Rodney f" and she submitted to be
kissed by the portly, red-faced man who entered
the parlor.
" Well, my dear, so you are at home
Tired of school, eh?"
if I cannot, you have only to introduce yonrself
as my niece, and you will find it all arranged."
And having accomplished Rod-
his errand, Mr.
ney Watson inflicted a second kiss on his ]
niece, and walked olT.
"Well!" said Mrs. Watson, as she watched
him out of sight, " if his majesty has any other
commands"
"Now, mother," said Bertha, "don't get
angry. See how nice it is. Instead of l>eing
off in some remote corner of England, or per-
haps in London, a reside|rt governess, here I
shall be near yon, at home every night, and
can commence with all my studies fresh in my
mind, instead of waiting till they get all mixed
up with other matters, and I don't know a
Germau poem from a French essay, or a minim
from a semibreve."
Spite of her brave speech, there was a little
fluttering at Bertha's heart as she recalled all
the dreary stories of governess life that she had
read or heard, anil pictured the tall girl of
fifteen with purse-proud insolence, or worse,
dull stupidity. As she knelt by her bed that
night the prayer of thanks for her safe and
happy return home was followed by a most
again ! earnest petition for guidance and strength to
meet her new responsibilities and the mother,
;

" Not particularly !" peeping in later at her newly recovered trea-
" Humph for you will begin to
Glad of it,
!
sure, saw a face as calm and peaceful as a sleep-
teach on Monday !" ing infant's.
" Monday !" cried both mother and daughter Monday morning was by no means so cheerful
in dismay. a one as conld carry encouragement to the
" Yes, Mond.iy !" wasthe emphatic response, yonng teacher. It was the first Monday of the
iu a very gruflF tone. "One of my clients year, and the snow fell thickly, while a sweep-
cime to me to inquire about a teacher, and I ing wind threatened to carry daring pedestrians
recommended you." otf into the clonils. Mrs. Watson wished to
"Who is it, Rodney?" inquired Mrs. Watson keep Bertha home, bnt she laughed at the
at
half peevishly, for she thought he was taking idea of a d:iily governess minding the weather ;

an unwarranted command of Hcrtha's affairs. and with stont boots, a big nnibrella, and her
" Mrs. Londan, the Generars wife she was ; music well protected in a leather cover, started
Miss C the rich banker's daughter."
, out. The walk was a long one before she
" The large brown honse on "the road to reached the stone posts that rose up heavy and
P Why, Bertie, that's only half a
tall beside the gate, and she looked vainly up

U*
558 GODEY'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

and down the wide road for her uncle. He had letters, but he is such a dear little lump of good
evidently determined to leave l^Lto find out nature that I am sure I can soon teach him.
her new position alone. '^k Now don't laugh, please. know all my geese I

"Now I wonder," she soliloquized, eyeing are swans, but I make you think
don't want to
with a half comical look the two bells that they are six paragons. They are well behaved,
adorned the gate, " if I am a servant or a visi- obedient, and respectful, and surely for a foun-
tor. Dubious I don't like to be snubbed on
! dation no teacher can ask more."
my first entrance for presumption, and yet I am With but little variety save that the snow
not inclined to place myself on the footing of a storms were replaced by budding trees and
servant. I'll guess!" and, letting the white summer sunshine, a year glided past, and the
eyelids over her dark eyes, she put out her
fall winter returning found Bertha still taking the
hand, groping till it touched a handle. Then walk from the cottage to the Hall morning
she opened them. "Servant 1" she said, laugh- after morning but often walking beside her,
;

ing, and gave the bell a pull. his head bent low, his tones eager or cheerful
She h.id not long to wait before the footman as the mood moved him, her cousin Rodney
strode down the avenue and opened the gate. was her frequent escort. They had been good
" Mrs. Loudau Oh, you are Miss Watson,
! friends and playfellows in all their holidays,
are -J'ou not ? This way. Why" and he and now, when he was at home studying his

stopped short "why didn't you pull t'other father's profession, they were friends and com-
bll?" panions still.

" I will to-morrow," she said, blushing under He was a shy man, just attained to his
tall,

his gaze of respectful admiration. majority, awkwardin company, reserved in

"Miss W.itson !" speech, but full of chivalry and love for his
The door of a cozy sitting-room was thrown pretty cousin, whose most fascinating amuse-
open, and Bertha came into the presence other ment was to torment him. Tliey were walking
new mistress. home one dark evening, when Bertha liad been
" My dear child, I never thought of your kept to dinner at the Hall, and there was some
coming in this storm. Come to the fire !" impatience in the young man's tone as he con-
This was her cordial greeting, and looking in versed.
her face Bertha met a pair of kindly gray eyes, " Then you won't tell me this mighty secret
a sweet, motherly smile, and such a look of that is laughing in your eyes and quivering

kindness without condescension as made her round your lips."

heart throb with grateful affection. " What a pretty speech Really, Rodney, I!

" I am not very wet," she said, cheerfully, think you are improving in constant intercourse
shaking down her skirts " the snow was dry.
; with me 1"
I expected to meet Uncle Rodney here." "Pshaw 1"
" He called last evening to tell me you were " Here we are at home. Now come in, Rod-
coming and the children are very anxious to
; ney, and you shall hear the wonderful secret. .A-
make your acquaintance, I assure you. Sit I must mother first."
tell M
down there, in that arm-chair, till you are "After you have had tea?" said Mrs. Watson.
rested and warm, and I will tell you all about "No, now! Come, sit down. My little pupil,
!"
them before you go to the schoolroom." Hallie, is going to have a birthday next month
Long before the mother had told the young "Well?" .
teacher all the little traits of character, the " Well, Mrs. Loudan is going to have a grand I
talent, the dislikes and parti.ilities of her chil- party, and a whole troop of young cousins from
dren, Bertha had inwardly given Heaven thanks London are to come down the week before to
for her pleasant lot. The perfect ease of man- help get ready, for, this is the delicious part, ,

ner, the motherly kindness that was as far we are going to have charades, and I am to

from patronage as it was from insolence, the write and act in them. Won't it be splendid ?"
evident consideration for her comfort as well 'as Rodney only grunted, but Mrs. Watson could
the children's welfare in the arrangements, not look at the beaming face claiming her sym-
were too grateful to be unnoticed, and the re- pathy and withhold it. It was a busy evening.
turn home in the evening brought suoh a bright Bertha would plan out all her scenes, and
face to Mrs. Watson that she wondered. forced Rodney to promise to copy out the parts,
" Such pretty children, mother and Hattie ;
while the cottage rang with her merry laugli
has a greiit talent for music. She plays almost over her mother's attempts to fit words to the
as well as I do now. Harry don't know his scenes.
 THE DAILY GOVERXESS, 669

For a wliole week before the party, lessons " Oh, that is very different I was not before
;

were entirely ueglected, and the schoohoom them in propria personje."

was the drill room for fifteen of the merriest " Conie^par how they are calling."
yoang folk^ who ever formed a dramatic com- And shgfonnd her hand prisoned, and her-
pany. Captain West, the youug soldier cousin self led away. The curtain rolled up, and she
of Hattie's, who was in the Horse (Juards, was standing, blushing, before the well-filled
would make fun of all Bertha's attempts at room. Somebody was audacious enough to
slang, and altered his part till the fair author- call for a speech, but the gallant Captain, with
ess declined to run it and his romping
at all, a few well-chosen words, closed the scene and
sister Jennie made the young teacher write rescued the heroine.
lier a part that her brother declared was per- The curtain fell with a heavy dump, and they
fectly " horsy " !
Mr. Jarvis Loudan, another were alone behind it.
nephew, declared nothing but an Iri.-'hnian was " Thank you," said Bertha, holding out her
suited to his genius, while Mollie, his sister, hand, "you got me out of that scrape nicely."
wanted to try a real -Vnierican negro. So the To her surprise, he clasped her hand tightly,
short days were leni;thened into pleasant eve- and leaning over her, said in a low, passionate
nings, and the gallant Captain was only too lone :

happy to be Miss Watson's escort to the cot- "I wish itwere my privilege to stand be-
tage, where animated discussions of posture tween you and all trouble and annoyance,
and costume often detained him till late into the Bertha!"
night. And here merry voices announced
a chorus of
And Rodney watched bitterly all this gayety, the arrival whole company, and she
of tlie
lioldiiig himself aloof from any part in it. In sprang from him with hot cheeks, and a nerv-
vain Mrs. Loudan urged her kind invitation to ous laugh to meet the congratnlatious of her
liiui to fornj one of the corfjs dramtuii^iie, he was friends.
too shy, too well aware of his own deficiencies Again the daily routine of life was resumed,
in figure and fluency to venture within the and the merry week was like the memory of a
bounds of the gay party, so he moped jealously, dream when the London party returned home.
half inclined to wish there was no pleasure in The Captain tried in vain to secure a parting
the world if it threw a bar between him and word in private, and could but blame his own
Bertha. impetuosity for the chilling farewell that Ber-
tha accorded him. And Rodney was growing
The eventful night came at last, and our pale and morose over Bertha's change of con-
heroine found herself dressed for her part, duct.
waiting behind the scenes for her cue. The Some finely strung chord of the yonng girl's
Captain was already on the stage, with Ilattie heart had answered the Captain's p.assion, and
playing fine lady to his dandyisms, and Bertha, she knew that she had learned the woman's
in a pretty peasant's dress,was waiting for the lesson of love. No longer the same thoughtless,
country cousin's cue to appear. Excitement merry child, she was becoming a cheerfvil but
h.ad tinged her cheek with a deep crimson, her more sedate woman. The gay laugh that had
eyes were dark with a feverish light, and her mocked him so often fell but seldom on Rod-
dress heightened every charm. From the ney's ear, and he marked well that Bertha was
soft, floating curls, to the tiny slippers, she no longer the frank, sisterly friend of old. Ho
was piquant and bewitching. Tlie arch grace had seen, even before Bertha learned it, the
of her acting drew down the approbatory Captain's love, and now his absence accounted
applause of the audience, and the wit of her for all this change. So he avoided the cottage,
dialogues found an able interpreter in their rep- and tried to believe he did not worship madly
resentatives. As the last charade was guessed, his cousin Bertha.
the authoress was called for. She was stand- And now, over the whole isl.ind there rose
ing in the dressing-room, just ready to mingle a farewell cry. The Crimean war was opening,
with the guests, when the Captain knocked at and the lounging d.andies who had drawled out
the door, and told her of the compliment. their word of command to lazy guards, woke
"Oh, I can't, indeed!"
to the manly soldiers whoso deeds made the
" Bat you must. Everybody expects it." world admire. The guards were ordered off,
"But to face all those people." and the Captain came to bid farewell to Bertha.
" Von have been before them all the even- To bid her farewell, but to tell her his manly
ing." love for her, and to crave her promise to be his
 ;

560 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

wife when he returned. It was a painful inter- wounded, but the sea air has done him good,
view, for slie could grant him nothing of what and the doctor says he will do nicely You !

he asked, and when he stood before her trying are not going ?"
to give her a brave smile, her eyes were full "Yes, I wanted to know " the tears were
and her lips quivering with emotion. dropping fast.
"You will give the soldier a. prayer some- " You know, dear, " and the mother took her
times," he said, bravely. in her arms, "he has told me, Bertha, how he
"Always, ajid a sister's loving interest," loves you. You will see him Come! Think !

she said, letting him take both her hands in how long it is 1" And her heart sighed.
his. "Long ! Oh, it is a long, long time since he
" Little sister, then God bless you, and fare- went."
well," and he drew her to his arras, printed a And so, his mother's arm around her, she
kiss on her forehead, and was gone. And went to his sofa, to kneel down beside him,
Bertha looking up, through her blinding tears, and whisper loving words of comfort, to combat
saw her cousin Rodney in the doorway. the generous impulse that would not burden
"I have seen," he said, hoarsely, "God her young life with a crippled husband, to hear
grant he is worthy of your love. Bertha. I with a glad heart, his tale of faithful love, and
I
" and then it burst from him impetuously, promise to come to his home, to take her place
"I cannot bear it," and he turned quickly there as his honored, loving wife.
from her and strode down the road. But Mrs. Loudan thinks it is all in vain to
Day after day she watched for him, as she try to quite fill the place of her Daily Governess.
trod her lonely walk, but the quick tread
echoed no more on h^r walk, and she looked in
vain for tlie tall, stooping figure. Two long WHY DON'T HE COME?
weeks passed, and then "Bertha," said her
:
BY CATHARINE MITCHELI,.
mother, "your Uncle Rodney was here to-day, "Why don't he come?
to tell us that your cousin Rodney sailed last Bright Phojbus, now enrobed in gnldeu liglit,

night for the Crimea." Has curbed tlie fiery spirit of his steeds.
And stay'd his cbiiriot wheels; his journey done,
The room spun round her, and for the first
He bids the world adieu with radient smile.
time in her young, active life Bertha Watson
And sinks to rest behind the western hilla;
fainted. His crimson canopy is drawn around,
Can I write of the months of agony, the And he is lost to view. In dread suspense
weary pain of watching, the bitter loneliness I watch the tints of the empurpled clouds,
over her once bright Misunder- Till the last faint tint expired, and day is gone.
that fell life.
Why don't he comef
stood,blamed perhaps for coquetry, she waited
Dim shadowy form now floats in air
twilight's ;

in vain for a word or line of love and forgive-
ness.
And far away on the plains of Alma lay
Rodney Watson, while kneeling over him, pale
and anxious was Captain West, who spoke
The lowing herds now homeward bend their steps;
The bleating sheep are shut within the fold.
And my Canary sings his vesper hymn,
Then 'neath bis downy pinions hides his head,
And in his willow cage in quiet sleeps.
:

Night's sable mantle, too. envelops all

" For me ! Oh, Lieutenant Watson, it was a The azure vault above is spangled o'er
mad thing to do, but you saved my life." With twinkling stars; the silver moon is np
"For Bertha," whispered the fainting man. A holy .silence reigns, and all is calm
" Bertha I" the frown gathered on the hand- But my poor throbbing heart, alas, alas!
Why don't he come ?
some face, but then the chivalry of the English In bitter grief I 'v watched the moon go down ;

soldier beat down the unworthy feeling, and Nature is hushed save when I heave a sigh
bending low he told Rodney the truth. The whispering winds give a responsive moan,
Bertha's face had grown pale, and her dark My soul is sick, toy misery is complete.

eyes sad, her step listless, and her manner

Why does he leave me thus in dark despair
To mourn and weep alone?
gentle but weary, when the news of the return
Hark, 'tis the midnight chime!
of Rodney met her. She was coming home No, 'tis hi^ step I
hear thank Heaven he comes I

from her day of teaching, but she passed tlie Begone, reproach, be calm each beating puhse;
cottage with quick steps, and gained the big Jly tluttering heart be still, away my fears

hOQSffthat owned her xmcle, master. What ecstasy thrills there! my trembling frame.
Come, rosy smiles, play my blanched cheeks,
o'er
"Aunt Belle Rodney!"
I
rJo crystal teardrops shall bedim my eyes.
"Yes, dear," said her aunt, kindly; "he For now at length when hope had almost flown.
has lost his right arm, and his breast is badly To cheer my heart he comes.


THE CHRISTMAS GIFT.

BT UHhLlC GtlT IBWIK.

A^NIB MEBHtirs s!t indnstriously stitching the impression paper her hnsVand, in bis ha-
away ou au article wliicli,was to wheu fiuished, bitual thoughtful interest for her convenience

bo the emboilied expressiou of h"! "raeriy in whatever she might chance to be doing, had
Christmas" to "dear Frt-d." Annie Mrrrilus suggested as a help iu tracing. She was on
had been two rears a happy wife. As she sat the point of giving up " I wonder
the search.
with ba-iy fingers and as busy thoughts in her if this isn't a drawer, orwhat the space is left
pleasant sitting-room, a comer-in from the for," thought she as she was about to turn
keen, frosty air would have hail a charming away. A little exercise of ingenuity did
picture before him. The bright glow of the indeed discover a drawer, and within it, ne.itly
anthracite coal, which diffused a friendly made up with taste and care, was a package of
summer warmth ; the stand of flowering plants, letters. She recognized her own handwriting.
and glimpse of a golden pair of canaries through " My old letters !" she exclaimed. " Fred has
a half-open door ; the polished piano with its kept them like precious things indeed ;" and
rich spread and uncovered keys, and a few the pretty lady took them in her hand, and
beaatiful pictures on the wall, were some of the looked at them through a sudden tear mist in
sarrouudings of the tastefully attired little her soft, brown eyes. " Stansbury these !

woman, sitting in her low rocker, and working were dated while I was away on my visit last
so busily with the bright colored materials fall ;
and these Hopetou Burns are of the
lying in pretty confusion about her. Whether old, old time dear Fred
; and dear home !"
!

a crimson here and a drab there would harmo- anil her head was bowed for a moment, and a
nize best, or a black or a brown be a prettier little shower of pearly tears as old time mem-
contrast, were reflections which were interrup- ories at sight of her girlish hand came cluster-
tions now aud then to loving thoughts, and a ing back, pearly drops refreshing as a summer
cheerful retrospect of these same last two years shower, the sun shining throngh all the time
which the pretty Lady was iudulging iu. Pre- fell thick and fast a brief moment. She had
sently she worked more slowly, laid aside her been such a sheltered flower all her life long,
needle, and held up her work with a perplexed she had not learned the need, aud so the habit
air then resumed it, set a few more stitclies,
; of self-restraint.
and finally, slowly and with care not to injure Mrs. Merrilns put back the dainty package.
the fabric, took them out agaiu. As she did so, a folded paper and a picture-case
" I cannot trust my eye ! I must have a met her glance. A truss of golden-brown and
pattern for this vine surely 1 It looks stitf in curling hair the folded paper disclosed to view ;

spite of me
Fred was saying something
I and daugerrotyped before her, when she had
alwnt impression paper when I was finishing unclasped the case, was a lovely girlish face,
Ellen's pattern that there was some in the with flowing cnrling hair. She looked upon
secretary, I believe. I shall have to make a it mute surprise.
in
pattern. I will see if I can find it." Thus "Fred never bad a sister he has told me
thinking, still surveying the refractory vine I was first and only in his love ;" and she sat

with her head critically and not ungracefully and gazed upon the soft coutonr, and conjectured
on one side, she came to the above conclusion. iu vain. The eyes at length seemed to look
' Fred" had furnished a room in bis board- into hers in a strange familiar way, as though
ing-house days, and " the secretary" had been she h.id gazed into their sweet depths of se-
one of the articles of furniture of his bachelor now again they began
renity in dreamland, bnt
time. Annie opened one drawer after
Mrs. to mockingly at her
look the mouth too ;

another in quest of the desired paper the ; Seemed to frame mockingly the words "first
taking ont of stitches reminded her the Christ- and only love I" And Annie Merrilns sat and
mas was at hand, and brought a thought, too, gazed.
of the long evenings when the gift work must " With my letters, my letters ! in a secret
be banished, for B'red as seldom spent his drawer I was never even told the existence
evenings from home as in the first glad months of, " at length she exclaimed. As she bent
of their married life, ishe looked in vain for her head aud turned the picture iu a better
5U1
 a

562 goret's lady's book and magazine.

liglit, a coil of hair tliat had been unloosem'd felt this. She commanded herself sufficiently
fell her shoulder. She compared its dark
to to appear to suppress a yawn, and interrupted
shade with the gold-brown curl the original of the narration with something about retiring
the picture had undoubtedly parted with to for the night, though it wanted yet a half hour

give. of the usual time. As she turned away she

"I wonder if she died," said Annie; and blushed for her rudeness, which, however,

then " It was sweet to be first and only yet ;
seemed unnoticed save by renewed inquiry if

had Fred but told me could I but have felt he "she were sure that she felt indeed quite
was still ingenuous with me I could have weU."
borne to have been not first. What need that The next day was no better embroidery ;

he should have deceived me?" Her voice had no interest. The heart-strings were too
died away on the word "deceived." "Oh, much out of tune for music. She was obliged
Fred! I thought you soul of truth !" Another to make exertion to appear herself to callers
kind of tears were very near coming here. I the afternoon brought in with smiles, and news,
think it would have been better for her to have and pleasant chat, and in the very efibrt she
let them have their way. But her mind re- felt the mist breaking away ; but when the
turned to the reflection, " With my letters too, necessity was gone for acting as though they
and so carefully preserved I" and this she did were not, sitting down idly, she called them all
not, would not do. From all the tenderness of back again, and enveloped herself in them for
the afternoon's retrospect, from the little sur- her husband's return. Mr. Frederick Merrilus
prise of the carefully cherished letters, there began to be seriously troubled.
had found and sprung up in some congenial "I've been trying every day for a week,
soil though it would but half support it Annie, to get time to come up and take you
little root of defiance ; the proper name per- out for a drive. And now, these two days
haps would be There are
pride. many diUer- past, I am sure you have needed it. Staying
eut kinds of pride. is very good for us
Pride indoors too steadily is not good for anybody.
sometimes. It gives, like stimulants, au arti- I feel it myself, since Alden's being away from

ficial strength that serves to cari-y us safe the office has kept me more confined. Dear
through trying places. At the same time, pride wife, you must not get sick and I 'm sure you
;

may be sometimes very much out of its place.
I think it is.
Mrs. Merrilus had lost all
needle-work. She passed an hour or two
rather wretchedly. But this would not long
do. It was not her habit. She began prac-
tising vigorously an exceedingly difficult selec-
tion from au opera she liad never liked a ;
piece which had been presented by a person
who was no favorite of Mr. Frederick Meirilus,
though that gentleman always treated the
obnoxious individual there being in his con-
duct nothing morally wrong sufficiently well
to justify through him the compliment to his
wife. Mrs. Merrilus was really too well-bred
at heart to admit any justification of "the
sulks" perse; nevertheless, it was in vainwhen
the evening came her husband made kindest
inquiries for her health, and when he found
attempts at conversation useless, tried to find
a clue to her changed manner. He out the
leaves of a new periodical and read aloud. He
beg.an, too, with the utmost humor narrating a
laughable experience of the day. Annie felt
she should laugh in spite of herself, and then
alas for her resolution ! There
are not well, though you keep back one com-
plaining word."
inclination for This, the second morning, why did not Annie
answering tell him what it was that was cast-
ing a shadow in their bright home. At one
mpment, when she had thought of it, she had
feared to give him pain by as she said in her
mind "reviving associations perhaps long
buried;" at another, it is possible there may
have been a shade of satisfaction in the con-
templation that when she should reveal her
knowledge of his witholding of the truth from
her, thus bringing to mind the falseness of his
deliberate assurance, he would, though difler-
ently, feel as keenly as she had done. I say
it is possible she may have deriveda moment's
satisfaction from the passing reflection. But
now in that pleasant break fast- room, with the
broad sun shining so cheerily in, and with her
husband's trust-compelling eyes beaming down
upon her in answer too to his cheerful tones,
" Dear wifie, you must not get sick," and " I 'm
sure you are not well, though you keep back
one complaining word" how could she ? and
she did not, and he was gone again.
is something I think, on one point, however much in the

that breaks down

cobweb barriers
all in a dark he may have been on others, Mr. Frede-
downright hearty laugh. She knew, at least rick Merrilus was very much in the right. I
 ;

THE CHRISTMAS GIFT. 563

think his wife had stavfl indoors altogether promised aid. And in the evening she sat
too much. To be sure, those exquisitely made planning Kitty's gift, making the work ready
shirts and sundry other articles might not liave for the inexperienced fiugei^s that gave Kilty so
been in such a beautiful state of completeness much trouble in not being competent to exe-
had the glad sun and clear air successfully in- cute half the designs of her busy little brain.
vited her out to their healthful influences ; but " Are you not too tired with all d.ay at the
neither, I venture to say it, would too close chapel to be at work this evening, dear?" said
confinement in heated rooms, no less bad in its Mr. ilerrilus, drawing a chair near her work-
influence onmind than body, have unnerved stand. " I 'm glad to rest," he added. "What
and predisposed to unhealthy action. The pretty work are you at now, wifie!" and he
knowledge of her husbauil's character, and of took up one of the long golden curls.
his uniform tenderness, might have lifted itself "They are beautiful," be said, when Annie
in opposition, even in the very face of "proofs" had told him of Kitty's design. " It 's a long
so considered ; to heart suggestions cherished time since my admiration first awoke for curl-
of Mrs. Merrilns. ing hair," he continued, lifting an intelligent
However, the days wont by the days, too, glance upon her as he spoke. " I remember
of the Christmas greening of the chapel. Very cnrls they were not so golden as these" Le
;
tasteful and dexterous in the twining of the went on musingly, with light, almost caressing
wreaths, the design of the sacred beautifying touch smoothiug the bright tress -"not so
of the altar was entrusted to Mrs. Merrilus. golden as these. I was little more than a mere
Gentle thoughts and holy feelings, no stranger boy then"
guests at any time to her loving nature, came, ''Don't, Fred ! you 'Tespoilitijil !" exclaimed
breaking away the unhealthy vapors. Mr. Annie, in an apparent quick, sharp petulance,
Merrilus was called from home during the that, in his surprise, nearly made the gentle-
process of the work otherwise I think Annie
; man drop Her cheek crimsoned at the jar-
it.

might, in her gentle way, have led him to speak
of that which was e-xaggerated in her mind by
the apparent secrecy thrown about it. I think,
as it was, she might have done so when he
was at home again, had it not been that, un-
fortunately, the very day of his return, having
occasion to go to the secretary, other feeliutjs
were revived again.
" 'm so glad you are come. Aunt Annie !"
I want of self-command, and wondered "wh.nt
littleKitty Meyers exclaimed, one day, when
Annie entered the house. And she noiselessly
closed the door that no tone might by any
means reach mamma's ear. " You know my
curls had cut off," proceeded the little girl,
I what had just pa.ssed between them. She
"they're all in a box just as they were cut
and don't you think I could make a cushion
of them some way with black lace, and have
them show throuffh, for mamma, you know,
for Christmas ? Make it round, I think, and
ring sound of her own voice. Such a tone had
never passed between them before.
Mr. Merrilus walked to the fire. Setting in
silence a few minutes, he presently recollected
he had a little commission to execute, and
might as well attend to now as any time, put
on his overcoat and went out, conjecturing
within himself "what it was that ailed A'luie!"
The Lady was rather chagrined at her own
would Fred think of her!" If she had only
waited, when perhaps he was about to speak of
the very subject so near her thoughts. She
was very miserable from a variety of views of
worked busily, biting her lip nervously at the
thoughts that would come, and finishing her
part of Kitty's present retired early before her
husband's return. When had he ever been
out before, and she had not waited his return ?

have one curl in a kind of ruche around it, and
a fall of lace; conldn't I so7ite way. Aunt An-
nie ?" and the easier, animated little face looked
up with a whole br.ice of interrogations in her
bright eyes. "I began a collar long ago, but
it is so much work I cannot finish it now, and
arithmetic is so dreadfully hard I have to study
out of school, and I don't get any time. And
The nest day was a busy one, in that it had
for its to-morrow the Christmas. Annie Mer-
rilus was again at Mrs. Meyera. The ladies had
been schoolmates and friends, and the pleasant
intimacy had scarcely had an interrnption.
" I must show yon the photograph Edgar has
bad taken for mother," said Mrs. Meyers. " It
is more perfect I think than any he has had

mamma thought so much of my cnrls, yon tiiken before. What improvements have been
know. And yon make things so pretty, dear made in picture art, Annie, since your and my
Aunt Annie won't you help me?"
; remembrance. I wonder, by the way. if Fred
Anuie Merrilus kissed the eacrer face, and has that old daguerreotype of yoar.s, taken so


561 godkt's lady's book and magazine.

long ago. Do yon know

if he has ?" and not a reflection on my light-hearted follies, as he
waiting an answer Annie's face wearing
for termed them, he would conclude with "Ellen,
an unmistakably inquiring expression "I I believe thee to be a good girl at heart, my

wonder if he never told you abont it?" And dear!" But when grandpa learned by the
then " Do you tliink these tassels are the right children's talk that we had gone to the new
length ? 1 declare, there are so many finishing Daguerrean's to have our pictures taken, it was
things to do to all these articles for the tree I so much of a grief to him that your mother
Did you say they were long enough ? do you sent us word down to the artist's rooms not to
think so ?" And the opinion being duly given, have them taken. It was a little too late, how-
though rather mechanically, perhaps " Did ever you had set for the picture. You or-
;

you really never know before you were mar- dered it should not be finished. And this I
ried Fred had that picture ? I wonder if yon snppose you thought the end of it. But not
would know it was your own if you were to see so. As 1 could not have your picture I deter-
it now I" and the lady laughed merrily. " It mined I would at le.ist obtain one of yonr curls,
was that summer vacation I sppnt with you, and as your mother proposed you should have
you remember. Father and mother being gone them cut Oh. Annie, I was rebellious then !

to see Frances, and home not like home, your I selected a beautiful one, though you could

kind mother made me so happy by her warm arrange the others so as to hide the deficiency,
invitation to spend the vacation with you, or at and just having secured ray treasure displaye4
least the part of it that should pass before their it to Fred as 1 met him on the stairway.

return. What was

a dear delightful time that I
" Divide with me, Ellen I' he said, with a
'

what a blessed home yonrs was Dear Annie, I trepidation quite unlike his usual manner,
much as I loved you, and happy as I alw.ays 'give me part of this curl, and I will tell you
was with you, when the Goldiugs told me that what a daring boy I have been !'

your relatives were Friends, I had so different " For Frederick I could do much, and I sepa-
an opinion of them from what my after expe- r.atpd the curl. He had been
Daguer- to the
rience instified. I was a little afraid to venture. reau's, he told me, and as he had hoped, the
And when I found every one so kind and impression had not been efi'aoed, and he suc-
thoughtful for my comfort and enjoyment, the ereded in getting the picture. Ellen, I con- '

only check to my delight was rather a remorse- fess,' said have some scruples abont
he, 'I
ful fear lest had been unjust in thought to-
1 obtaining it in this m.inner, and as Annie's
wards those had never seen. The one in-
I friend, I submit to you whether or not I may
stance, when ray private individualism came consider it as mine. I assure you it shall be
into any antagonism with the views entertained sncred from every eye but my own. And as to
in your dear household, was, wheu your good my motive, my wish for its possession, I would
grandpa was so grieved because you wanted to not startle Annie's blessed little heart for the
give me a daguerreotype of yourself I was so world, nor justly incur her parent's disapproba-
anxious to have taken." Mrs. Meyers looked sion by one premature world, but' and you
up from threading her needle in time to catch know Frederick Merrilus' look, dear, when he
the mystified yet absorbed expression on the has made up his miud if little Annie Snow- '

face of Annie Merrilus. The lady laughed. den is not my wife at some future day, no other
" This reminds me of old story-telling times woman shall be.'
when we were children, and each turned nar- "Frederick, "continued Mrs. Meyers, "would
rator in turn for the other's edification. But have obtained a duplicate for me had I wished,
don't you remember, Aniiie, how shocked grand- but I knew 1 should have to keep it secret
pa was ? how he said it all came of yonr '
from you or betray Fred, and beside it seemed
being sent away to a fashionable school ; things not quite right, and I preferred to wait till
were turning out just as he had prophesied !' some time when your father might be in the
Your curls, too you know after your long ill-
;
city. The curl and the picture we never either
ness your hair came in so fast and curling, and of us alluded to after. How much darker yonr
I could not bear to see them gathered up, hair has grown since then, Annie Ah, baby !

though it was only seldom I prevailed upon is waking he 's had a beautiful nap, and my
!

you in letting them fall their own free w.iv. work is just finished." And Mrs. Meyers left
I'm afraid grandpa thought my influence rather Auuie, to appear again in all a mother's fond-
bad over you. Though I remember when his ness with the little fellow in her arms.
talk, as we were together in the garden or he Annie M^rrilns was vt^ry glad to occupy her-
sat on the porch in his e.asy chair, was rather selfwith Master Eddy, to talk to the young

! !

THE CHRISTMAS GIFT. 565

gaDtleman \a as UDConuected a style as might completed. " I am so sorry I did not get it

uhance to salt hr feeliugs, aud iu uakiog him finished for to-day."

the ceutral object of iuteredt, withdraw notice " It is dear Annie ; and if
beautiful as it is,

from herself as much as possible. which All it were possible be yet prettier than it
for it to
pleased the little gentlemau rerj much, and is, and if it u-ere finished, I should ask for a

was iu 110 way disagreeable to his deroted more precious gift still than even the exqui-
mamma. Altogether I thiuk it was very op- sitely wrought piece of your always faultless
portune for Master Eddy and all concerned that handiwork. You have given me back your-
he chose to take that particular moment to self, given me what for a lime I did not know

wake up in. how to find. I felt as though with you yet

Fred came and took tea at Mrs. Meyers' he ; before me, in some unaccountabln way I had
remarked the change in Annie. lost you. Now give me a Christmas gift of
"Ellen, I believe Anuie has not bad half perfect confidence, never again to be withheld.
enough of your society lately. She has drooped Do not conceal from me anything, whether of
for it. She has not looked as well in weeks as moment or however trifling, which gives you
she does to-night. You have '
done her good one moment's disquiet, and which by any pos-
as a medicine.' " sibility I could remove or explain. And I

A
sweet festival indeed was the saored and promise you the same. Concealment, or want
beautiful service of the evening. The joyous of perfect ingenuousness is one of the most
chaunts and deep quivering organ tones bore fruitful sources of dark hours and misappre-
Annie's glad and softened spirit into purer, hension, and in some cases may prove one of
clearer, higher atmosphere. And if we do not the greatest wrongs that could come between
intrude upon the quiet home hour after church, two loving hearts. And now, since I 've been
there were truer picture element there thau iu so bold as to make my own selection of Christ-
the easy room when we first looked in upon it. mas gifts, dear wifie, may I have it ?"
When Annie had told her husband something
of what had been passing in her miud ; when
she had cleared up all those misty mornings A PENSIVE ODE FOR PENSIVE HEARTS.
and cloudy evenings to his mental vision he ; BT PBBDBBICK WRianT.
did not call her " foolish little puss," nor yet Sweet is the voice of morninj: sweet
laugh, that though he had heard of being The moUuw notes that evening: greet.
one's own shadow, he had never known
.ifraid of And sweet the song that noontide pours
From the recess of Jane-clad bowers
tillnow of the little woman that was jealous of ;

Sweet to the warrior's ear the clank

her own picture. Though he smilingly looked Of marshaU'd hosts, as rank on rank
into her eyes in rather an amused way when With thnnd'ring tread they seek the fr.iy

they talked the matter over, and those early That ends with lifeor victory !

days, yet he did none of these things.
'And so you went to Ellen with it!" he
exclaimed, "the very person, since yon chose
to be unwilling to come to
could"
But Annie interrupted him. " To Ellen in-
deed no, my husband Do not suppose I could
I Are blazoned on the scroll of Fame
ever go to a third person, however truly a
frieni, with anything aflectiug or relating to
To hearts unhackney'd in the phrase
Of flattery, how sweet the praise
Of good men's homage, as it fall?
Like SQDlight on time-shatter'd walls
head quarters, who
And oh, the deep impaHAtoned thrill,
That doth the yearuing bosom fill,
I
When years of doubt, of toil, and shame.
Yet neither morning, noon, oor eve
All, all combined a song can weave

our perfect confidence in each other." As sweet as that which Friendship poort
Which interruption gratified the true feeling Along life's joy-<lcsert<^d honrsi
Nor warrior's clank, nor trumpet loud,
of Frederick Merrilus very much.
Nor shout of hearts with glory proud
In the beautiful light of the Christmas morn- Can move the soul like Friendship's tone
ing, Annie stood by a beautiful white rose tree, As whispered to one ear alone!
rich in abundant bud and bloom, one of her
The blazon'd scroll of tame may be
husband's Christmas gifts. She displayed the An altar of idolatry !

bright blending colors of the elegant trifle yet But that, nor praise however sweet.
unfinished, she had intended for presentation With friendship's love can e'er compete-
That voice so blest that love so rare!
this same day. "I am so sorry," she said,
!

Tbauk God ! has been my lot to share

and a conscious blnsh overspread her features Through storm aud tempest, pain and grief.
as she remembered how it was it had not been That heart's pure sunshine ! brought reiief

VOL. LXVII. 45


SKATING FOR LADIES.

WHY LADIES OUGHT TO SKATE, AND while we went to the pol. Does the dear
WHY THEY DO NOT. reader say, "Then why go at all ?" I answer,
Learn to skate, and the ice will give you a graceful, " because the opportunities for skating are few
sweet, and poetic motion. Emerson. and precious." How had the ladies used to
LEARNED to skate very early
I ; I cannot now beguile those hours that were so merry for ns ?

remember my precise age, but I know that Let me draw you two pictures.
about the time I mastered the " spread-eagle," It is a bright, keen winter morning. Those
and the " outside," my Latin grammar was the of ns addicted to the wholesome cold-water bath
most serious difficulty of my existence, and I have to break the ice in our bath-tubs. Little
used to wish I could skate throngli it. Since Charlie has to breathe on the window-pane a long
that time it is several years ago I have sel- time before he can disperse the pictures of Arca-
dom failed to use my skates on at least one day dian dells and rough mountain passes which the
during each sufficiently severe frost to make fairy Frost has traced thereon in the silent
sound ice. To my skates I am indebted for night and almost before he has looked out the
;

many a day's enjoyment days that might, but business of anew picture is commenced. The
for them, have been dull and uninteresting. postman brings up the letter and tells us, " Y'es,
But (Iiis is the least of the advantages I have de- the lads are on the pool, and it would bear a

rived from them confidence and strength are

;
wagon loaded with hay, or an army." The
among Emerson says, continuing
the others. important business of breakfast is speedily dis-
the passage from which I have quoted above patched. Skates are rubbed, and, gimlet in
"The cold will brace your limbs and brain to pocket, off we go, with forgive us ladies an
genius, and make you foremost men of time." impatient answer to yottr questions: "Is it
A " foremost" man himself, and a great lover of quite safe? and how long will you stay?"
skating and all motions and exercises that give "Stay? why, till dark, if the ice is good, of
grace and strength, lie sets upon skating its course."
real value a very high one. I remember a After the warm breakfast- room the air is keen

good doctor saying "Cricket-balls and skip- and sharp but it has a delicious freshness all
;

ping-ropes, skates and hoops, are the best phy- its own, a briskness unknown to other morn-

sicians in the world if used with moderation, ings, that imparts itself to us as we anticipate
and early enough." He was right. If the the delights of a day on the ice. The trees are
people of a country are effeminate, it arises alldraped with lace, to which the most exquisite
from the luxuries and restraints that are prac- manufactures of Valenciennes or Nottingham
tised, and it is only necessary to extend the are nothing. The fiehlfares and blackbird* are
circle of outdoor exercises to counterlialance congregated in them, chattering as they make
these. This brings me to the consideration of a scanty breakfast on the few frozen hips and
my subject " Skating for Ladies." haws that remain. The larks start up in a
Personally speaking, have always regretted
I huge flock from the stubble, and utter their
that more ladies do not skate, and considered winter notes over our he.ads we remark that ;

that ladies ought to learn, because there are they have probably had no breakfast, the frost
really so many reasons why ladies should has robbed them of their food but then it has ;

skate, that I cannot decide which is the most made the pool bear. This is to us sufficient,
important and entitled to the place of honor ;

and so we pass on, feeling if we are not in too
let me therefore select the one which will admit great a hurry to reach the pool to feel that,
of no refutation, and is most agreeable let me after all, it is Nature's doing, and not ours, if
say because it is a pastime in which they would they are robbed of their breakfast.
greatly excel. I am not quite sure that my At the pool we find the lads from the village,
regret has always been of the most disinter- and not a few girls, too, sliding bravely up and
ested kind. In cold Christmas weather, when down the smooth surface, and greatly exhila-
a merry party was gathered in my father's rated by the motion. Our skates are soon on,
house, it would have been much pleasanter not and ten minutes after we are " all a-glow," and
to have had to leave the young ladies at home in the enjoyment of the most delicious motion
566
 ;
!

SKATIXG FOR LADIES. 567

I knotr. A graofal saccession of circles or It was after such a visit that I determined to
semi-circles, uiiule with scarcely an effort, to teach my sisters to skate. They tell me now
whicli all the waltzea in the world are "as that making a figure of S is the pleasante^t
UDto sunlight." The morning wears
luoonliglit occupation and the most enjoyable amusement
on, iu the happiest way, and the delicious that the whole year brings them. Clara says :

movements set every generous and pleasurable "Walking is like prose, skating is like poe-
emotion vibrating. try," really on the ice one does seem to
and
Meanwhile, how does the morning wear with move rhythmical numbers. I never had a
in
the ladieswhom we left at the breakfast-table f day's skating that I did not feel benefited men-
They cannot ride it would be cruel to the
; tally as much as physically, and, I believe,
"poor feet" of the horses, to say nothing of the morally, too, for the action produces vigorous
danger of slippery roads. They read and write health, and a new, strong current of generous
letters, they gather around the fire and indulge emotions.
in "small talk" I beg pardon or they knit, There is no danger in skating, always pro-
crochet, or embroider. I am not going to say viding that due precaution is taken relative to
one word agJiinst these pretty occupations. (I the soundness of the Of the difficulties of
ice.

may remark, en passant, that therein ladies have learning, which by the way are always greatly
a great advantage, being able to make nimble exaggerated, I shall have more to say anon.
and good use of their fingers while carrying on The only real ones are the first step perhaps
the most animated conversation, whereas the I ought to say stroke
and the access to a
most gentleman can, or, at least, the most they place suitable for learning. I think I shall be
do do, under similar circumstances, is to smoke.) able to show that neither of these are obstacles
But are these the best occupations ladies can of sufficient importance to deprive ladies of
have on bright winter mornings ? All days and what I am sure they would find as delightful
nights answer for the purpose of embroidering an amusement as dancing, with this advantage,
how very few afford an opportunity for skating that the one would add to their strength and
Do the fingers never grow tired, and is not the health as much as the other, by the late hours
warmth of exercise out in the bracing air more at which it is practised, impairs it. If I can do
pleasant than the artificial heat of burning this,and can induce ladies generally to follow
coals ? Ladies, try it. the excellent example set by a few of their
I am
drawing these pictures from a real ex- number, I am confident they will be thankful
perience for me, the ladies, and the pool, and
;
for the addition to their somewhat limited
the frosty mornings to which I have referred, number of amusements,
one of the purest of

quite incidentally, and by way of illustration, and best sports practised by men. Experience
have a real and tangible existence, and some has proved, in cases where ladies have adopted
of those ladies are now my happiest skating skating, that in it, as iu dancing, they greatly

companions, and look, on a frosty winter eve- excel, and adventurous than their
are, if less

ning, when the sun is setting, up to the church brothers, far more
But it is not only
graceful.

vane with as much interest as I do, to see if as an amusement that skating would benefit
the wind is still easterly, and the frost likely to them, but as a wholesome and highly profitable
make sound ice. exercise, which offers itself at a time when

It seldom happened that after luncheon they others cannot be had, and which will develop
did not pay the pool a visit, and, thoughtful their strength and powers of endurance.
and charitable as ever, bring some pretty bags Ladies, then, ought to skate. Let me now
well stored with sandwiches. It was then that proceed to consider they do not.why
I felt most keenly what a great loss of pleasure I shall first of all deal with the weakest ob-

ladies suffered by not skating. To me the cold jection raised against it; but it is one, though
air was exhilarating, delightful as they stood ;
puerile and paltry, which I feel to be very
upon the banks, it was to them painful, and general. Paterfamili.is objects to his daughter's
they hurried back to the fireside for the re- skating, because he thinks it is unfemiuioe.
mainder of the bright day. Perhaps an old This is one of those deplorable notions with
armchair witli runners say a superannuated regard to "proprieties," and what women may
rocking-chair from the nursery was produced, and may not do
and they, in turn, enjoyed being pushed before Tbat seem to keep her op, but dra^ her doWD.
me round the pool. Still, that was not self- Is ituufeminine for ladies to be healthy, good
motion, not the airy, joyous, graceful exercise walkers, with an tipright gait, and a frame that
that dispersed the blood rapidly over my frame. is physically able to endnre as mucli watching
 ; ;

563 godey's lady's book and magazine.

and working, if need be, as tliey are willing to A few, a very few, ladies do skate, and have
undergo ? Nothing I know is more conducive done so now for many years. I have said that
to these qualities than skating. Yet, say how the pool to which I have referred has a real
many fathers, it is "unladylike," and the rery existence. It was there I first saw ladies skate,
same men do not object to their daughters and they were, without exception, the best
dancing till long after midnight. When the skaters I ever saw.
skipping-rope has become too childish and I would earnestly exhort fathers to buy their
hoop-bowling has lost its charm, tliere ought daughters each a pair of skates, and their
to be some substitute found that will do their brothers to teach them how to use them, with
work, and for the winter days a pair of skates the full assurance that tbey will ever after be
offers the very best. their pleasantest skating companions, their
The real difficulties are the access to a suf- vts-a-vis in many an eight. It is a great folly,

ficiently private place for learning, and the to say nothing of the positive wrong, to narrow
friendly initiation. It is, for obvious reasons, the straitened limit of out-door amusements in
very desirable tliat a lady's first day on the ice which ladies are privileged to indulge. Here
should be only in the company of some few is one, offering a graceful occupation for days
friends upon a pond not frequented by others. that are spent by them at the fireside, offering
To ladies residing in provincial towns and vil- itself at a time when riding is generally im-
lages, this difficulty is but slight. Half an practicable, and walking insufficientforwarmth
hour's walk, at most, will bring them to some embrace it, and the interest of the scenes of our
suitable place some little pool (a large one is ponds and rivers during the frosts will be greatly
not required) where they may practise. The increased, and skating will have a greater at-
railways, too, offer ladies residing in the metro- traction, and be productive of more good than
polis itself almost as great facilities. A day, it ever has been in England.

aye, even the day upon the ice will be de-

first

lightful ; and the second and third days will

bring with them a degree of proficiency that
will afford a new and pure enjoyment, and the
MY CASKET OF GEMS.
BY MRS. WOLVERTON.
cold weather will have a charm it has never
For thee I '11 ope my casket lid,
had before. An occasional fall during the early
And thou shalt view my treasures hid;

days and by no means a violent one is the Here's thought, and feeling, fancy fair,
very worst that is to be anticipated by a lady And rich experience folded there.
who has a brother or friend, used to the ice, to And memories too, in golden hours
accompany her. I have known ladies so at- Some woven were 'mid drenching showers,
tended learn without falling at all, and make Look closely down aud thou wilt see
Each raindrop wove a pearl for me.
fine, dashing figure-skaters in an almost in-
the And roses fair, and mossy stone,
credibly short space of time. Conjicleiice is
I gleaned them o'er a paihw.ay lone
most essential quality ; and here is another ;

So bright they seemed amidst the gloom,

reason wliy the first attempts should not be Sfy casket gave them welcome room.
made on crowded ponds, for it is impossible,
And sunny hopes to cheer the way,
where skaters are darting about, and many When through the dark my feet must stray;
people are looking on, that any one should And faith and trust, by angels given,
have confidence unless it has been acquired by To light me through the doubt to heaven.
And gentle words for those I love,
experience. I have known strong, sturdy
Sweet as the speech they use above ;
schoolboys so talked to about the difficulties of
And friendship's smile, atTection's tear,
skating, and the falls they would h.^ve to un-
And pity's tone are garnered here.
dergo, that they have been timorous on the ice
And happy love, so true, so bright,
for days,and consequently tumbled about in 'Twould break the darkest, deepest night!
every direction. This ought not to be. An- By many friends the chain was twined,
other mistake is that it needs strong ankles. Around them all my heart-strings wind.

That is all nonsense ; there is more stress upon They share my tear, my smile they claim,

the ankle in ten minutes' dancing than in an Each joy, each grief to me they name;
'Mid sorrow dark upon my breast,
hour's skating.
They soothe the aching heart to rest.
Another reason why skating is not genera!
Tes, true, to me are treasures lent,
among women is a natural objection each one To weave of life the sweet content
feels towards taking the first step. That is, And one has Wh> re'er you gn.
^Mid, "
the first step among her own circle of friends. Along your way you sunbeams strew."
 NOVELTIES FOR DECEMBER.
SACQUE, DINNER DRESSES, WAIST, ETC.

Fig.1.

Fig. 1. Fail or winter sacque. This Pig. 2.

style of wrap is very pretty for misses.
It can be made of silk, or of any kind

of cloth. It is trimmed with a rnching

of velvet, silk, or cloth, either of the
same shade as the material or darker.
The latter has the more stylish appear-
ance.
Fig. 2. Diuner-dress of cuir-colored
silk, made square both back and front,
and trimmed with bands of black velvet,
edged on each side with qnillings of cair-
oolored ribbon. Tassels of black chenille
are placed both on the back and front
of the corsage, as well as on tbe sleeves.
Fig. 3.
Dinner-dress of manve silk,
with a pelerine and phstron of black
gnipnre, edged with a ribbon quilling.
The sleeves are open from the elbow,
and caught together by bands.
FiR- 4. A nnw style of white maslin
waist. The front lias the appearance of a
Garibaldi shirt, and the back is trimmed
45* 569
r)70 godey's ladt's book and magazine.

Fig. 3. Fig. 5. Amazon collar, made of

white linen, with one row of stitching
on the edge. The tie is of black silk,
doubled, with the ends embroidered in
the new color called BU de Turquie.

THE PSYCHE BUTTERFLY.

(See engraving, -page 610.)
Materials. Three yard-n of narrow gold
braid, a kein of fine gold twine, one yaid of
gold spiral wire, and a skein each of white,
light blae, and cerise fine silk.

This elegant ornament is now much

used in ball-room costume, either as a
lieaddress, when it is attached to the
hair in the centre of the forehead, or on
the left side of the head nearly at the
back ; it is also placed on the skirt of
the dress to loop up the tunic or dra-
pery, and it may be applied to a variety
of articles, as pen-wipers, paper weights,
screens, etc.
The sections of the wings are given,
one showing the braid outline only,
and the other the stitches, which are
worked to attach the braids together.
The wings and body are made sepa-
rately, the latter being formed of plain
crochet.
Commence by tracing the braid out-
line of one of the sections, and with a
line sewing-needle and thread tack the
gold braid on the outline. These stitch-
es should be taken across the braid,
and not througli it then, with the blue
;

silk and a sewing-needle, begin at the

narrow part of the wing, and run the
silk across the braids, darning it in and
out of them eight or ten times ; then
work np the braids, joining them with
rows of hem-stitch. The network above
them is of the cerise silk, and formed

of a succession of open button-hole

stitches.
The rosettes in the centre of the cir-
cles are made of white silk, and to form
them see the braid pat-
tern in the preceding
,s^~^ direction ; the space be-
tween the two straight
lines at the edge should
be filled with blue silk.

When the work is fin-

i.^bed, sew the gold wire

10 reeemWe a jacket. Thecuffs are composed round the edge of the braid, using the cerise
of tucks, flutejl ruffling, and fancy buttons. silk, and at each side leave about two inches of
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 571

the wire to form the legs. Coiiiraenco now ou 12M. Knit 1 rib, turn back.
the body. 13f/i. Knit 1 rib.
The Body. Work with the gold twine and 14(/i. Knit 1 rib, then knit each of the 5 ribs
Penelope crochet needle, No. 3. Commence
with 4 chain stitches, ami work a single stitch
in the first chain to make it round.
Work 2 plain stitches in e.ich of the 4 stitches,
then 2 plain both in one stitch, and 3 plain in
successive stitches, 8 times ; it will now be 16
stitclies ronnd. Work 80 plain; stuff the work
with a little Decrease by taking
piece of wool.
two and working thera as one
stitches together
stitch then 5 plain, and decrease again, 8
;

times and for the head, work 2 stitches in 1,

;

5 times then 6 plain

; and for the antennie, ;

take 3 inches of the gold wire, and, leaving

half of it in front, place it along the last round,
,ind work it under for 3 plain stitches. Leave
the other end in the front, work 4 plain, then
4 single, take 2 together 5 times, miss 1, and 1
single, 3 times then 3 chain, miss 1, and 2
;

single on it ; 3 chain again, miss 1, and 2 single

on it, 1 single on the head, and fasten off. Sew
two beads above the aiiteunfe for the eyes ;

then sew the wings to the sides of the body,

leaving the wire for the legs.

MUFFATEE. DIAMOND PATTERN.

K.NITTI.NG. the end of the previous rows, and on the
left at

Jfateruils.tl^U an ounre each of scarlet, Wack, and black row knit the 7 ribs then, coiuniiMicing ;

white single or double Berlin wool, according to the again at the 2d row, work to the end of the
thickness required a pair of knitting pins. No. la Bell
;
13tli row, so as to make a second half diamond
gauge, me-iHured in the circle.
at the other side. Join on the black wool.
With the black wool cist on 39 stitches. 1.;/*. Knit all the 13 ribs.
1st row. Make 1, by bringing the wool for- IGth. As the last row.
w.ard, slip and knit 2 together repeal to
1 ; nth. Knit 1 rib. .Join on the white wool,
the end. This stitch
is used throughout the and for the centre diamond knit 11 ribs ; turn
pattern. Every three stitches form one rib. back, leaving one black rib.
Join on the scarlet wool, and for the 18M. Knit 10 ribs and turn b.ick, leaving
Scarlet half di.imond, 2cl row, make 1, slip 1, another rib ; knit 9 ribs, turn back ; knit 8 ribs,
and knit the 2 stitches which cross together; turn back; knit 7 ribs, turn back; knit fa' ribs,
repeat 5 times more, that is 6 ribs turn back, ; turn back ; knit 5 ribs, turn back ; knit 4 ribs,
leaving the 7 black ribs on the other pin. turn back ; knit 3 ribs, turn back ; knit 2 ribs,
3rf. Knit the 6 scarlet ribs. turn biick ; knit 2 ribs ; then knit the 4 white
4M. Knit 5 ribs, turn back, leaving a scarlet ribs which were left at the previous rows. .Join
rib. on tlie black wool, and knit the remaining rib.
5(A. Knit the 5 ribs. 19M. Black. Knit all the 13 ribs.
6(A. Knit 4 ribs, turn back as before. 20M. As the last.
Ilh. Knit the 4 ribs. Join on the scarlet wool. Commence again
8<A. Knit 3 ribs, turn back. at the 2d row,and repeat the pattern until 5
9(A. Knit 3 ribs. or G diamonds are made, according to the size
lOM Knit 2 ribs, turn back. wished then cast off, and sew the first and last
:

IIM. Knit 2 ribs. rows together.

572 godey's lady's book and magazine.

KNITTED GAUNTLET. menced. This is made by casting on 10 stitches

at each end of the knitting, making altogether
(See engraving, page 6\2.)
82 stitches. Fifty rows are required to make
ifrtf-irtt. Some single Beiiia wool, of any shade
that may be piefened ; ooe-eiglith of a yard of plaf^h ;
the thumb ;and in knitting the extra 10
ODe-eigkth of a yaid of silk for lining ; one yard of stitches at each end they must be diminished
ribbon. every now and then by knitting together the
The season has now arrived for making these 4th and 5th stitch at the beginning and end.
useful articles, wliich are so comfortably worn This diminishing must be done gradually, and
over a pair of kid gloves, when the weather is at the end of the 50 rows there should be on
iutenselj cold. The portion of the gauntlet the needle the same number of stitches as was
that covers the glove is knitted, and the gaunt- commenced with 20 more rows have now to
;

let is made of plush, lined with silk and w.ad- be knitted, and the mitten is finished. The thumb
ding, ornamented with a bow and ends of rib- is neatly sewn up, leaving the small opening at
bon. Having only the glove to knit, a pair of the top seen in the illustration. Our model is
these gnantlets would be quickly executed. further ornamented on the back of the liand
The glove is knitted backwards and forwards with 3 stripes of embroidered silk. This is
(not round) in the following manner Cast on : very easily accomplished by taking 2 ribs of
62 stitches. Istrow. Sh'p 1, * make 1, purl 1, the knitting and working over them in coarse
knit I, repeat from *, knit 1. 2d. Slip 1, * herring-bone stitch. The depth of thn plush cnft
make purl I, knit 1, repeat from *, knit 1.
I, is 4 inches, the length round 14 inches. This
It willthns be seen that the stitch that was cuff should be shaped a little towards the glove
purled in the preceding row will be knitted in portion, to suit the size of the bottom of the
the next, and so on. Alter having knitted 30 knitting.
rows in this manner, the thumb must be com-

FANCY PATTERN FOB PERFORATED CARD-BOABD.

Work according to the patterns on perforated on one piece, and half on the otiier. After
card-board, with split zephyrof any bright color. working each piece, join them back to back.
The first letter is "K," half of which is worked Make two small cords and tassels of your
 ;

WORK DEPARTMENT. 573

zephyr, and place one in the centre of each end. maining stitches, with those cast on between it
By turning these cords quickly in the fingers, and the middle finder and when finished, it
;

the words " Kiss Me" will appear." completes the glove. The ends are drawn in,
aud darned down on the other side. The pat-
tern must be maintained throughout ; and to

GENTLEMEN'S DRIVING GLOVES. make the gloves set well the stitches cast on

(5 engravings, page 513.)

at the separation of the thumb must run up
Black the front of the forefinger. Sew wash-leather
Materials. or white worsted, and seven knit-
tiug needles, Nos. 13, 11, or 1.5, tvccordiug to the size of on the thumb and forefinger of the right hand.
the hand. ( The seven neodles are used only in making
the flngors.)

Cast on eacli of these needles 16 stitches, CROCHET PELERINE.

and close them into .i round after which, do ; (.Ve? engrnvi7ig, page. 514.)
one and a half or two inches of ribbed knitting, Mfiterfals. One-half a pound of whito Berlin wool
alternately knitting two and puiliiig the sauie one-quarter of a pound of blue ditto ; two ounces of
uiimber. Do one plain round, and begin the speckled wool.

pattern. \st. round. * knit 3, purl 1, * all We can recommend our subscribers to make
roand. 2d. Plain knitting. 3</. * knit 1, purl themselves one of these u.seful peleiines, as
1, knit 2; * all round, ith. Plaiu knitting. they will find them a most convenient and com-
By continuing work these four rounds, as
to fortable addition to their wardrobe. They are
directed, the purled stitches will always come extremely easy to make, and form a pleasant
07er each other, at the distance of every fourth occupation for the long winter evenings. These
round, every alternate stitch being quite plain little pelerines reach to the waist, and close at

throughout tlie glove. After eight rounds, the throat, and are worn underneath a mantle
begin to raise the thumb, thus: purl 1, knit 1, out of doors or they make an exceedingly
;

bring a thread through and make another, comfortable wrap, on a cold winter's evening to
purl 1. Continue the round as the others, ob- put ou in coming from a theatre or place of
serving that these purled stitches are always to public amusement. Being arranged uithout
be purled, and the increase for the thumb sleeves, they are easily put on and taken off.

m.idB between them. Increase at fii-st every Our model is made of blue, white, and speckled
third round, then every second, finally every wool, arranged in stripes ; and the maimer in
round, until you have got to the separation of which these stripes are crocheted, whether
the thumb, when you should have fourteen on bioad or narrow, must, of course, be left to indi-
the thumb, within the two purled stitches. vidual taste. It would be superfluous to give
Put all but these fourteen on three needles, directions for woi'king every row, as the stitches
and leave them, so as to finish the thumb; are all the same, and the shape of the pelerine
divide the stitches on two needles, and cast four is formed bi/ incrcasimj in every rotr down the
on a third form into a round, and knit round
; centre of the, bacl:, and on each side of the front,
and round (in the pattern) until sufficient is as will be seen on referring to our illustration.
done. Then gradually close and fasten off. Make a chain rather longer than the size of the
Take up the edge of the four stitches cast on, neck (as it diminishes in the icorkimj.) 1st row.
and add to the rest for the hand. Knit about 5 chain, *2 treble, 1 chain, miss 1, repeat from
one and a half inches in depth, from the thumb, * until the middle of the row is reached. Into
then the fingers. The little finger has twelve, this stitch make 4 treble instead of 2, with a
and four extra cast on to come between it and chain between, and work to the end of the row.
the third knit round the needful length, and
;
2d. Turn, 3 chain, 2 long into space of previous
close. The third finger must have five stitches row. We m.ay here mention that all the treble
from the front, and the same number from the stitches are worked into the spaces, and iiof

back of the hand, with four also that were oast into the chain of previous row. 1 chain, 3
on for the little finger, and five to be cast on treble, until the middle of the row is reached,
between the back and front, next the second when work a double quantity of treble stitches,
finger; this, of course, must be longer. The then 1 chain, 3 treble, to the end of the row.
miiidle finger has seven stitches from the back 3d. 3 chain, 2 treble, into the space of pre-
of the hand, and six fiom the front, with the ceding row, then 1 chain, 3 treble, to the end
cast-on stitches between it and the third, and of the row, inci'easing as nsnal down the centre
also five fresh ones, next the forefinger : this is of the back. From the description of these 3
the longest of all. The forefinger has the re- rows, it will at once be seen how the remainder
574 GODEY S LAUY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

of the pelerine is worked, always bearing in needle into the next chain stitch, take up the
mind to increase at the commencement and in wool on a needle and draw it through in a loop ;

the centre of every row. When the founda- keep the 2 loops on the needle, put the needle
tion of the pelerine is crocheted, a row should into tlie next chain stitch and repeat from *
be worked all round, consisting of 1 chain and until the 50 loops are raised.
3 treble ; this finishes off the sides neatly and Work 9 'rows more the same, changing the
nicely. A small collar may be added, if liked colors at each end throughout the boot, so that
(this is, however, not necessary), by crochet- all the looijs are raised with black, and worked

ing into the foundation round the neck, and back with the scarlet. The work should be tight,
working 3 or 4 rows, in the same manner as the so that this piece measures 11 inches in length.
pelerine. This little collar is finished off round Work 5 rows more the same, but decreasing
the edge with a row of double crochet worked a .stitch iu the centre of each row. To decrease,
into every stitch. The
which ornaments
fringe two black loops should be taken on the needle
the bottom of the pelerine easily made. It is and worked as one stitch.
consists of lengths of partridge and blue wool,
16M row. Decrease the first tyo loops, raise
knotted alternately into every space and treble the rest, and take the last 2 loops together to
stitch of the bottom row. A piece of plaited decrease ; work back.
wool, with a pair of tassels at each end, is rnn 17M. Plain, but increasing a stitch in the
round the neck, with which the pelerine is fast- centre. To increase, the needle should be in-
ened. The arrangement of color in our model serted in the scarlet, between two black stitches,
is as follows 10 rows of white, 1 row of
: and the wool brought through in a loop as
blue, 1 row of speckled, 4 rows of blue, 1 row usual.
of speckled, 1 row of blue all round. Fringe, 18(A. Decrease the first 2 stitches, raise the

blue and speckled. rest to the centre; then increase a loop as be-
fore, raise the rest, decreasing the last 2 loops ;

work back.
CARRIAGE BOOT. 19(A. Plain, but increasing a stitch in the
Materials. Three skeina each of black and acarlet centre.
doable Berlin wool, and needle No. 9, Bell gauge.
20<A. As the 18th row.
21sf. As the 19th row.
22t/. Decrease a stitch at the beginning and
end of the row.
23rf. All plain.
Repeat the last 2 rows until it is decreased to
24 stitches, which finishes the boot and, it ;

being made on a new plan, it is as well to state

that the last row, when joined, forms the toe,
the two slanting sides the front, and the first
row the back of the boot.
To make up the boot, it will require a pair
of cork soles bound with ribbon, and a half yard
of scarlet silk or flannel. Cut the flannel the
shape of the work, allowing half an inch for
turnings.
Double the foundation row in half and sew
the sides together, drawing about 6 stitches in
the centre close, to form the heel then sew
;

up the toe.
To join the slanting sides which form the
front, commence at the toe with the bl.ickwool,
and work a row of single crochet, thus keep :

the wool at the back, put the needle into a

stitch of the right selvedge, and then into the
left selvedge, bring the wool through them and
Commence with the black wool and make a also through the loop on the needle ; repeat.
chain of SO stitches. Then round the top of the hoot work 6 rows o'
\st row. Miss the first chain stitch, put the plain crochet backwards and forwards very
 WORK PEPARTMEXT. 575

lon-^ely, working 2 stitches in the first stitch work one donble, in each stitch, and in the
of each row and for the last row, work 1 scar-
; centre work 2 stitches in one, work Hi rows,
letami 1 black stitch alternately, continuing always working 2 stitches, in the centre work ;

the same down the sides of the black rows, and 2 rows of each color.
ending at the first stitch of the row. Fasten Commence for the sides on the 11th stitch,
off. and work 44 rows, 2 rows of each color; join
Turn the boot on the wrong side, place the the 11 stitches on the other side of the front.
lining over it, and slightly quilt it to the work; Work 1 row in single-crochet, with 1 chain,
then turn it on the right side, and sew on the between each stitch, all round.
sole. The plain rows at the top should be Make the fringe in black wool (thns), pass
turned down over the boot, and the points the wool round the mesh, and work 1 single
fastened with a button. stitch,then 1 chain, pass the wool round the
mesh, and repeat, until sufficient is made to go
round the shoe, then sew it on.
A WARM OVER-SHOE, IN CROCHET. Cut a piece of silk, the size and shape of the
JfaifrialA. 1 ounce of black donblo Berlin wool, 1 shoe, for the lining, turn the edges down, and
ditto scarier, 3 rardi of narrow scarlet ribbon, a pair of
sew neatly all round ; then sew on the cork
cork NolOM 10 inches in len>;tb, a flat mesh half an inch
in width; bone crochet-hook, Ko. 15, Bell-gauge. -
sole, turn the shoe to the right side, and run

Tbb shoe is worked throughout in double in a piece of the ribbon nnder the fringe, to
crochet. draw it in a little, make the rosette, and sew it

Sl.ike a chain of IG stitches, miss 1 stitch, and on the front.

BBAIDIKG PAtTEEK.
576 godey's lady's book and magazine.

OEIGINAL DESIGNS,
rCKXISHED EXPKESSLY FOK GODET'S LADY's BOOK, ET W. CAMERON,
No. 228 North Eitjhth Street, Philadelphia.

(f^
EMBEOIDERY FOE COBNER OF rOCKET-HAXDKEKCHIEF.

EMBROIDERY FOE FROM' OF A SLIPPER.



WORK DEPARTMENT. 577

FANCY BOW FOR A CHILD'S HAT.

A
>*
^
.f */

This boiv may he m.vle of any color velr<>t or silk.

Itshould be embroidered with jet beads, and triuinieJ
with black lace.
vol.. Lxvii. 46
578 godky's lady's book and magazine.

BRAIDING PATTEBN.

EMBBOIDEBT.

ALPHABET OF FANCY LETTERS.

( Concluded from November number.')
 RECEIPTS. 579

tablexpoonniln of wheat flour half a lemon-peel, grated ;

;

one glass of brandy and one i:\nss of Jfadeira a little

^\fcci^ts, tt'c.
milk to mix, suSicient to make rather a thick batter.
;

The whole mniit he well mixed. The above mixture to

be put into a wcU-battered b.iMin. Tie a pudding cloth
PLni PrDDI.VG AXD OTHER RECEIPTS FOB
over, and pin the four corners over the top. Put into
CHRISTMAS.
boiling water, and to be kept boiling without ceasing
WBgiTeftDamberof receipts for paddlogs, pies, caken, for five hours. We have tried this receipt, and know it
etc that will bo of great us to our lady frieuda duriog
,
to be excellent.
the Chriatmafl holidays.

CCRRAST Cake. One cup of batter, three epes, one
A Crristvai; Pll'h Pcddin'}, with ob without Eqob. cup of water or milk, half a teaspuouful of saleratus,
Take two pounds have beeu well
of br*-dd crumbii tbnt nutmeg, cup of currauts.
sifted through a colander two tablespooofule of dour
: ;
Light Cakes. Put a small quantity of floor into a
half aa ounce of gronod allspice, aod oue pound of browa
mug, mix it with very gor>d milk, witha lampof butter
moi'^t sugar; rub these ingredients thorongbly well
the size of aa eg^, a little barm, an egg, a teaspoi>nfal
together; chop one pound of suet very fine, aod tho-
of honey, and a little ginger; beat them well, and let
roughly mix in with the other things. Wash well in
them rise before baking.
tepid water a pound and a half of rai>ins, and stone them,
or two poaods of Sultana raisinri, which reqalre no Little Pli'M Cakes to kefp los. Dry one pound of
BtoDiDg, and are etinally good, though more expensive
flour, and mix with six oauces of fiuely-ponnded sugar ;
;

chop these, not too fine, and well mix in then a pound beat six ounces of butter to a cream, and add to three
;

eggs well beaten, half a pound of currants nicely dried,

of well-wa:$hed currants, and a quarter of a pound of
candied peel, cut into luuips, not slices. Having mixed and the flour and sugar beat all for some time, then
;

all this together well, make whole sufficieutly moiNt

the dredge flour on tin plates, and drop the batter on them
with a little milk ; well batter one or more large basins ; the size of a walnat. If properly mixed, it will be a
well press the mixture into the bottom of each (or they stiff paste. Bake in a brisk oven.
will not turn out in good shape), and when filled tea Rich PLm
Pcddino. Stone carefully one pound of
trifle above the brim of the basin, spread some flour on
the best raisins,wash and pick one pound of currant**,
the top, aod tie the ba^in down with a well-wetted chop very small one pound of fresh beef suet, blanch and
cloth ; place the pudding in boiling water, let it boil up chop Email or pound two ounce-s of sweet almonds and
rapidly, and so continue for four hours ; then take it up, one ounce of bitter ones mix the whole well together,
;

remove the cloth but do not turn it out of the basin. with oue pound of sifted flour, and the same weight of
The next day, or when wanted for use, put the padding crumb of bread soaked in milk, then squeezed dry and
to warm, with the basin still on, for two hoars, in a stirred with a spoon nntil reduced to a mash, before it
moderately warm oven, then lake it out, tarn it from the is mixed with the flour. Cut iu small pieces two ounces
basin on to the dish in which it is to be sent to table. each of preserved citron, orange, and lemon-peel, and
With Che handle of a teaspoon, or the blade of a fruii- add a quarter of an ounce of mixed spice quarter of a ;

knifd, make incisions in different parts of the pudding, pound of moist sugar should be pet ioto a basin, with
and pour on some sherry wine, then sifl powdered eight eggs, and well beaten together with a three-pronged
tuk'ar over. It is obvious that this padding must be fork stir this with the pudding, and make it of the pro-
;

made the day before it is required for use, and it is much per consistence with milk. Remember that it must nut
better for being so. E^'gs are not neces-sary togiveeither be made too thin, or the fruit will sink to the bottom,
richness or Savor, or to "bind the pudding;'' the milk
but be made to the consistence of good thick batter.
and the flour will do that. Eggs render the mass tho- Two wineglassfuls of brandy should be poured over the
roughly indigestible but if they most still be had and
;
fruit and spice, mixed together in a basin, and allowed
vx again reptat thfit they are nU needed eight eggs, well to stand three or four hoars before the padding is made,
beaten and strained, can be used instead of the milk.
stirringthem occasionally. It must be tied in a cloth,
Great care is necessary in all puddings of the kind, not
and will take five hours of constant boiling. When
to make them too wet, or they will be heavy and to ; done, turn it out on a dish, sift loaf-sugar over the t' p,
thoroughly mix the ingredieuis separately. and serve it with wine-sauce in a boat, aud some poured
Chbi^thjLs Plcm Pcddiso. a pound of suet, cut la round the puddiag.
pieces not too fine, a pound of currants, and a pound of The padding will be of considerable size, but half the
raisins stoned, foureggs, half a grated nutmeg, an ounce quantity of materials, ased in the t^ame proportion, wilt
of citron and lemon-peel, shred fine, a tea^ipoonful of be equally good.
beaten ginger, half a pound of bread-cnimbs, halfa pound Boiled Plcii Pcddisq The crumbs of a small loaf,
of flour, and a pint of milk; beat the eggs first, add half
half a pound each of sugar, currants, raisins, and beef-
the milk, beat them together, and by degrees stir in the suet ehred, two ounces of candied peel, three drops of
fluar, then the suet, spice, and Truit, and as much milk
essence of lemon, three eggs, a little nntmeg.atablespoon-
as will mix it together very thick then take a clean ; ful uf flour. Butter the mould, and boil them five hours.
cloth, dip in boiling water, and squeeze dry. While the Serve with brandy-sauce.
water is boiling fast, put in your pudding, which should
boil at least five hours.
A Good Poc.vd-C.vke. Beat one pound of butter to a
cream, and mix with it the whites and yolks of eight
Anfither tcatj.
Seven ounces raisins, seeded and a little eggs beaten apart. Have ready, warm by the fire, one
chopped; seven ounce carranis, well washed and pound of floor, and the same of sifted sugar mix them ;

picked one and a half ounce citron three oane8 of

; ; and a few cloves, a little nutmeg and cinnamon, in floe
beef suet, chopped very fine; three-quarters of a nutmeg, powder together then by degrees work the dry ingre-
;

grated one-quarter of ateaspooofafrof ciunamoo

; ; five dients into the butter and eggs. When well beaten, add
eg^s well beaten up ; four table^poonfuU of eugar ; fire a glass of wine and some caraways. It most be beaten
580 godet's lady's book and magazine.

a full hoar. Batterapan, aod bake it an huur in a quick butter, one and a half pound of sugar cut the butter ;

oven. fine into the fiour beat six eggs liglit, and put them in
;
;

The above proportions, leaving out four ounces of the
butter, and the same of su;,'ar, make a less luscious cake,
and to most tastes a more pleasant one.
A Rich CnaisTMAS Pcddino. One pound
etoned, one pound of currants, half a pound of beef-suet,
add two wine-glasses of yeast, one pint of milk, .-somf
cinnamon, mace and nutmeg; make it up into a light
dough, and put it to rise. When it is light enough, roll
out the paste, cut it in, small pieces, and boil them iu
of raisins,
lard.

quarter of a pound of sugar, two spoonfuls of Bour, three Fruit Cake. Take one pound of butter and one pound
egt;s, a cup of sweetmeats, and a wineglass of brandy. and beat them together with the yolks of eight
of sugar,

Hix well, and boil in a mould eight hours. eggs; beat the whites separately; mix with these one
and a half pound of fiour, one teacupful of cream, one
A Good Christmas Pudding. One pound of flour, two
wineglassful of brandy and one of wine, one nutmeg,
pounds of suet, one pound of currants, one pound of
one teaspoonful of mace, one teaspoonful of cloves, two
plums, eight eggs, two ounces of candied p-^el, almonds
teaspoonfuls of cinnamon, one salt-spoonful of salt,
aad mixed spice according to taste. Boil gently for seven
three-quarters of a pound of raisins, stoned, three-quar-
hours.
ters of a pound of currants, half a pound of citron ; mix
Common Crullers or Twist Cakes. Mix well together
with the flour two teaspoonfuls of yeast powder.
half a pint of sour milk, or buttermilk, two teacupfuls
Washington Cakb. Beat together one and a half
of sugar, one teacupful of butter, and three eggs, well-
pound of sugar, and three-quarters of a pound of butter :

beaten ; add to this a teaspoonlul of saleratus dissolved

nutmeg grated,
in hot water, a teaspaonful of nalt, half a
and a teaspoonful of powdered cinnamon sift in flour
add four eggs well beaten, half a pint of sour milk, and
one teaspoonful of saleratus. dissolved in a little hot
;

water. Stir in giadually one and three-quarter pound

enough to make a smooth dough roll it out not quite a
:

of flour, one wineglassful of wine or brandy, and one

quarter of an inch thick; cut in small oblong pieces;
nutmeg, grated. Beat all well together.
divide one end in three or four parts like fingers, and
This will make two round cakes. It .should be baked
twiiit or plait them over each other. Fry them in boil-
in a quick oven, and will take from fifteen to thirty
ing lard. These cakes maybe cut in strips, and the ends
minutes, according to the thickness of the cakes.
joined, to make a ring, or in any other shape.
Queen Cake. Mix one pound of dried flour, the same
Soft Crullers. Sift three-quarters of a pound of flour,
of sifted sugar and of washed currants wash one pound ;

and powder half a pound of loaf-sugar; heat a pint of

of butter in rose-water, beat it well, then mix with it
water in a round-bottomed saucepan, and when quite
eight eggs, yolks and whites beaten separately, and put
warm, mix the flour with it gradually set half a pound ;

in the dry ingredients by degrees; beat the whole au

of fresh butter over the fire in a small vessel and when ;

hour butter little tins, teacups, or saucers, filling them

;

it begins to melt, stir it gradually into the flour and

only half full sift a little fine sugar over just as you
;

water; then add by degrees the powdered sugar and half

put them into the oven.
a grated nutmeg. Take the saucepitn ofl" the fire, and
beat the contents with a wooden spaddle or spatula till Lemon Gingerbread. Grate the rinds of two or three
they are thoroughly mixed; then beat six eggs very lemons, and add the juice to a glass of braudy ; then
light, and stir them gradually into the mixture. Beat mix lemon in one pound of flour, make a hole
the grated
in the flour, pour in half a pound of tieacle, half a
the whole very hard till it becomes a thick batter. Flour
a pasteboard very well, and lay out the batter upon it in pound of butter melted, the lemon-juice, and brandy,
and mix all up together with half an ounce of ground
rings {the best way is to pass it through a screw funnel).
Have ready, on the fire, a pot of boiling lard of the very ginger and quarter of an ounce of Cayenne pepper.

best quality put iu the crullers, removing them from

;
Seed Cake. Beat one pound of butter to a cream, add-
the board by carefully taking them up, one at a time, on ing gradually a quarter of a pound of sifted sugar, beat-
abroad-bladed knife. Boil but fewat a time. They must ing both together; have ready the yolks of eighteen
be of a fine brown. Lift them out on a perforated skim- eggs, and the whites of ten, beaten separately; mix in
mer, draining the lard from them back into the pot lay ; the whites first, and then the yolks, and bent the wbob*

them on a large dish, and sift powdered white sugar over for ten minutes add two grated nutmegs, one pound and
;

them. a half of flour, and mix them very gradually with the
CHRISTMAS CAKE. other ingredients when the oven is ready, beat in three
;

To two pounds of flour well sifted unite

ounces of picked caraway-seeds.
Of loaf-sugar ounces sixteen ;
Pumpkin Pudding Take one pint of pumpkin that
Two pounds of fresh butter, with eighteen fine eggs, has been stewed and pressed throngh a colander;
soft

And four p'lunds of currants washed cloao ;

melt in half a pint of warm milk a quarter of a pound of
Eight ounces of almonds well blanched and cut small, butter and the same quantity of sugar, stirring them well
The same weight of citron sliced; together; oue pint of rich cream will be better than
Of orange and lemon-peel candied one pound. milk and butter beat eight eggs very light, and add
;

And a gill of pale brandy uniced ;

them gradually to the other ingredients alternately with
A large nutmeg grated exact half an ounce
: the pumpkin then stir in a wineglass of i-ose-water and
;

Of allspice, but only a quarter two glasses of wine mixed together, a large teaspoonful
Of mace, coriander, and ginger well ground, of powdered mace and cinnamon mixed, and a grated
Or pounded to dust iu a mortar. nutmeg. Having stirred the whole very hard, put it
An important addition is cinnamon, which into a buttered dish, and bake it three-quarters of an
Is better increasedthan diminished ;
hour.
The fourth of an ounce is sufficient. Now this Lemon Cake. Beat and whites se-
six eggs, the yolks
May be baked four good hours till finished. parately, till in a solid froth add to the yolks the pratfd
;

Dough-nuts. Take three pounds of flour, one pound of rind of a fine lemon and six ounces of sugar dried and
 ;

RECEIPTS. 581

sifted ; bat thin a qaarler uf aa hour; shake la with the which, when cold, will be a fiue jelly Chicken it with a ;

Itft haod six ouQces of dried fluur ; then add the vhitea little flour and butter, add the liquor of the oysters in-

of the eggs and the juice of the lemou ; whea these are tended for sauce, also stewed, and wirm the oysters up
well beaten in, put it iuitnediutely into ttus, and bake it in it ;whiten it with a little boiled cream, aud pour it
about an hour in a moderately hot oven. over the turkey.
Ci.orB Cakb. One pound of suk^ar, one poand of flour, To Roast a TfRKET. Prepare a stuffing of pork san-
half pound of batter, four ei,'ifs, a teaxpoonful of ealera- sage-meat, one beaten egg, and a few crumbs of bread:
tutt, a cup of milk, a teattpooufnl of powdered mace, samo or, If sausages are to be served with the turkey, stuffing
of cinnamon, same of cloves ; fruit, if jou choose. as for fillet of veal in either, a little shred shallot is an
;

MiscBMRAT. Six ponods of currants, throe pounds of Improvement. Stuff the bird uuder the breast dredge ;

it with flour, and put it down to a clear, brisk fire at a

raisins stoned, three ponnds of apples chopped fine, four ;

pounds of Euet, two pound** of snt'ar, two pounds of beef, moderate distance the first half hour, but afterwards
the peel and juice of two lemon-*, a pint of sweet wine, a nearer. Baste with butter; aud when tiie turkey is

quarter of a pint of brandy, half au ounce of mixed spice. plumped up, and the steam dmws tuwards the fire, it
Press the whole into a dt-ep pan when well mixed. will be uearly done thou dredge it lightly with flour,
;

Another vay. Two pounds pounds of

of raisins, three and baste it with a little more butter, first melted in the
currants, three pounds of beef-suet, two pounds of moist basting ladle. Servo with gravy in the di-^h and bread
f>ugar, twoounce.t of citron, one ounce of orange-peel, one sauce in a tureen. It may be garnished with sausages,
small nutmeg, one pottle of apples chopped fine, the rind or with fried forcemeat, if veal stuffing be used. Some-

of two lemoos and juice of one, half a pint of brandy times the gizzard and liver are dipped into the yolk of
mix well together. This should be made a little time an egg, sprinkled with salt and Cayenne, and then put
beiore wanted for use. uuder the pinions before the bird is put to the fire. A
very large turkey will require three hours' roasting one
Mi.^CB PiFS.
Take a poand of beef, A'ee from ekic and
of eight or ten pounds, two hoars aud a small one, an ;
;

strings, and chop it very fine then two pounds of suet,

;

hoar and a half.

which likewise pick and chop then add three pounds ;

of currants nicely cleaned and periectly dry, one pound To Roast a Goose Geese seem to bear the same rela-
and a half of apples, the peel and Juice of a lemon, half tion poultry that pork does to the flesh of other
to

a pint of sweet wine, half a nutmeg, and a few cloves and domestic quadrupeds that is, the flesh of goose is not
;

mace, with pimento in fine powder have citron, orange, ;

suitable for, or agreeable to, the very delicate in consti-
and lemon-peel ready, and put some iu each of the pies tntion. One reason, doubtless, is that it is the fashloa
when made. to bring it to table yerj rare done ; a detestable mode !

Take a young goose, pick, singe and clean well.

Molasses Pie. Four eggsbeat the whites separate Make the staffing with two ounces of onions (about four
oiye teacupful of brown sugar, half a nutmeg, two table-
common sized), and one ounce of green page chopped
spoonfuls of butter , beat them well together stir In one ;
very fine; then add a large coffee cup of stale bread-
teacupful aud a half of molasses, and then add the white
crumbs and the same of mashed potatoes; a little pepper
of eggs. Bake on pastry.
and salt, a bit of batter as big as a walnut, the yolk f>f
Cbeam Pie pound of butter, foar eggs,
(/n*'). Half an egg or two; mix these well topether, and stuff the
sugar, salt, and nutmeg
your taste, and two table-
to goose. Do not fill it entirely ; theetnfflng reqniresroora
spoonfuls of arrowroot wet pour on it a quart of boiling
;
to swell. Spit it,both ends to prevent its
tie the i^pit at
milk, aud stir the whole together. To be baked in deep swinging round, aud to keep the stuffing from coming
dishes. The fire must be brisk. Baste it with salt and
out.
GixaER Spoxoe-Cakb. One cap of molasses, one cnp water at first, then with its own dripping. It will take
of batter, two cups of sugar, four eggs, three cups of two hoars or more to roast it thoroughly.
flonr, one cap of milk, soda, and ginger. A greeu goose, that i<!. one under four months old, i<
FBB.tcR JcMBLEH. One pound and a half of Hoar, one seasoned with pepper and salt instead ofsageaud onions.
pound of sugar, three quarters of a pound i>f butter, three It will roast in an hour.
eggs; dissolve one tea5:poonful of soda in one-half cup SArcE FOB a Roastfd Goose. Put into a sancepan a
of milk; add this, aUo one nntmeg, and roll out the tablespoonful of made mustard, half a teaspoonfnl of
dough, and cut into small cakes of any shape, and hake Cayenne pepper, a glass of port wine, aud a gill of
them ia a quick oven. gravy; mix, and warm, aud pour it through a &lit in
the apron into the body of the goose, just before serving.
HOW TO COOK POrLTItT.
To Boil a Tcrket. Make a staffing as for veal or if ;
CHRISTMAS AND JTEW TEAR'S DINNERS.
you wish a plain stuffing, pound a cracker or some bread- Boiled turkey with oyster sauce, roast goose with
crnmb very fine, chop raw salt pork very fine, sift some apple sauce, roasted ham, chicken pie, stewed beets,
sage and any other sweet herbs that are liked, season cole-slaw, tnrnips, salsify, winter sqnash mince pie, ;

with pepper, and mould them together with the yolk of
an ^z^; put this nuder the breast, and tie it closely. Set
on the tarkey in boiling water enough to cover it boil
very slowly, and take off the scum as it rises. A large
pinm pudding, lemon cusiard, cranberry pie.
Roast turkey with cranberry sauce, boiled fowls with
; celery sauce, boiled ham. goose pie, tnrnips, salsify, cole-
slaw, winter squash, beets miuce pudding boiled, lemon
;

tarkey will require more than two hours' boiling: a pudding baked, pumpkin pudding.
small one an hour and a half. Garnish with fried force- Mock turtle sonp, roast turkey with cranberry sauce,
meat, and serve with oyster or celery sance. boiled turkey with celery sance, roa'^ted ham, smoke-
Or : Fill the body with oysters, and let it boil by steam tongue, chicken curry, oyster pie, beets, cole-slaw, win-
without any water. When sufflcienliy done, take it up, ter squash, salsify, fried celery; plum padding, miocA
strain the gravy chat will be found in the pan, and pie, calfs-foot jelly, blauc-mange.
46*

CRKISTMAS IS COMIXG.
This the moath, and soon will come the morn
is
Wherein the Sun of Heavea's eterujil King,
Of wedded mj.id and virgin mother burn,
Our great Redeemer from above did biinij.
MlI.TOK.
For many, many years, we have greeted our friends
from tliis our place in the Lady's Book with our warm-
est Christmas wishes for their happiness, and offered our
sincere thanks for their many and long-continued favors.
In the midst of the cheering influences of this blessed
season, sad thoughts must press on bereaved hearts and
households, and over the bright hopes winch have been,
in our circle of friends, dimmed during
many mourners have wept since we
merry Christmas greeting But God is good for every
! ;
grief he has given a balm for every trouble a hope
;
and the benevolent order of His laws casts a softening
veil over sorrow, while new delights and new enjoy-
ments are ever offered to the bright young hearts that
are coming out to gaze at the new Christmas sun, and
wonder that there can be care or sorrow in such a
beautiful world.
To all happy hearts we commend our ornamented
these
Frontispiece, which portrays very truthiuUy the dif-
ferent pleasures of theChristmas anuiver&ary. In the
country we branches by a
Bee the gathering of pine
joyful company of merry lads, and the sledging through
the brisk, snowy atmosphere. In the next compartment
we see the happy, loving family gathered to hear the
Christmas story uf the wondrous Babe of Bethlehem,
and of the bright angels that came down from heaven
with the news of "good-will to men." Then the little
pet of the family, dressed in holiday finery, with arms
full of the treasures brought by Kristkinkel, has her
place. Opposite her see grandmamma, about to put on
her glasses for the enjoyment of a Photograph Album,
adorned with the faces of her dear ones.
All Ihe'^eare pictures of Christmas enjoyments realized,
not iu o?ie place, hut in thousands ay, millions of house-
;
holds will this month taste the bounty of our Heavenly
Father, who has provided these various pleasures for up,
and has fitted our dispositions and minds to draw hap-
piness from the gifts of His goodness.
Is it not a cheering thought that the anniversary of
the message of "good-will to men" is
mas will reannounce the glorious promise of salvation
and eternal blessedness to all who love the Lord Jesua
Christ and do His will? The love is treasured in our
hearts-, and known, in it'* truth and purity, to God only
but it is seen in the world and known as it goes out in
good works.
The great question for each to answer is, " What good
work have I done since last Christmas?"
When our duties are useful and are defined,
performed them, have we not done good ? The
faitlifally
Editors of the Lady's Book have faithfully endeavored
to benefit those for whom their work
now, as the year is closing, we
our cordial congra-
offer
tulations to our happy friends, and our sincere sympa-
thies to those who are sorrowing, hoping to meet them
all and welcome in the important year of 1S6-J.
582
Htflxs' Sabh*
LITERARY WOMEN" DURING THE YEAR 1S63.
In this brief notice we can mention only one race, the
Anglo-Saxon. The American branch has done very
little. Who plants flowers or gathers fruits while the
earthquake or the whirlwind is upon them? War is
a terrible evil to women. Even their works of love and
mercy seem done under a pall, and are sad, because the
need of these services for the victims of battle is woful,
and has been caused by wrong-doing.
"The poor ye shall always have with you," said the
Divine Saviour. Poveity is the appointment of Provi-
dence but wars are to cease when righteousness reigns.
;
the year ! How Let us pray that the blessed time may soon come. Not
last offered our till woman have its proper cul-
then will the genius of
development, and its purifying in-
tivation, its perfect
;
fluence on humanity.
In the old country of Anglo-Saxondom British women
have, during the past year, been greatly distinguished
by their literary productions, chiefly biographies
and
works of We are sorry to add that a great por-
fiction.
tion are what termed "sensation novels." Among
is
these, three hold pre-eminence in their distinctive clas^ ;
as the passionate in"Lost and Savrd,''^ by the HunorollH
Mrs. Nitrton ; the intellectunl in "Komoi.a," b^/ MifHf
Ecfins ; and the domestic in "Squire Thevlyn's Heir,"
by Mrft. Wood.
Next to newspapers, novels are now probably more
read than any other kind of literature. Demanding^o
stress of thought, no weary wear of brain, they afford
amusement without the trouble of going
in one's chair,
abroad to seek it. With book in hand, we feel as if we
had some semblance of intelligent employment aiid ;
thus the months go by, and novel reading has become
the fashion, and new novels the want of every-day life.
Whether the habit will be baneful or beneficial depend-^
much on the character of the books that become popular.
"Lobt and Saved" is, we are sorry to say, unworthy
of the genius and fame of its authoress. Mrs. Norton,
as a poetess, is now in the first rank of living writers of
her sex. It is a great pity she should have stooped to
imitate the sensation school of French writers, who
seem to say, "Evil, be thou my
good." If the Britihh
aristocracy be faithfully pictured in these volumes, the
nobles of that proud land must have stepped into tl)e
bogs of corruption beyond the French of the old nginie.
Misa Evanb is a very different writer ; she has penins
near, that Christ- of a loftier kind, but not the elegance nor tlie polish <if
Mrs. Norton. Belonging to a different order of English
society. Miss Evans very properly and sensibly describes
what she knows, and with a masterly skill paints the
manners and character of the middle classes. In ana-
lyzing the emotions of the human heart, which throbs
;
with the same impulses in the laborer aud in the lord,
she is unrivalled as a writer of fiction, and thus in the
delineation of character she excels all her sister novel-
ists. In this last work, "Romola," she takes a high
place in the historical romance, showing great know-
ledge of Italy in her antiquities and mediaeval celebri-
if we have
ties. We prefer her striking pictures of English life.
Still, this last work possesses much merit, and its moral
tendency is right and elevating, as is seen in the contract
between Romola and the selfish Tito.
is prepared, and But the great heart of the people is more moved hy the
hoinlier pictures of Mrs. Henry Wood, who has shown
herself mistiess of the art of story-telling. She might
be a rival of Scheherazade herself in the rapidity of her
compositions. Her language is often incorrect, and her
style far from elegant yet the first is significant, and
;


editors' table.

the last clear; and she has the art of wonderfully puk- restored in Germany. That this order was instituted by
tainiiii; the attentioD : evea fa&tldloua people find thom-
tho Apostles Is clear, from the Bible and ecclesiastical
pelvfft eoinpelled to read her volumes to the end aud to
ackiiowiedite their iuterest. Therefore, that ^ho is al- history ; therofuro it Is no newly devised plan, but wo-

ways on the Kide of ri^'ht and duty we cmsider a irrciit man's rightful place in the Church. Its revival seemi
(.'tiod to her reader** and a i;rcat honor to her. She never to be blessed in a remarkable manner in thechurches in
throws fanciful Interest around vice her heroem are not
;

manufactured out of *' misern/jles ;" nor doeashe iutercMt Germany, Switzerland, and France, whore the greater
our feelinjiH on the side of (entimental woes while the number of this noble order of ladies are working. Iu
real hut homble sufferer is forgotten. She has, we must
England the communities of Protestant Christian Women
own, an ardent leaniukr to the supernatural, aud ^nme-
titnes manages her machinery very cleverly. On the are doing so much good that "the most roarvelloUH
whole, we think her novels of this year are worthy of change in the mind of the .Anglican Church has taken
mnch praise, and that "Squire Trevlyn's Heir" and
place in their favor in the course of the last five years."
"Mrs. Hallihurton's Troubles" aro works that will live
till another Cbristuiai;. Wo should like to give many extracts from this admir-
able pamphlet, but have not room. any lady desires If

more information, we refer her to the Committee who

DEACONESS* INSTITUTIONS AND PROTESTANT
prepared the Report, as their namf^* alone will be a
SISTERHOODS.
guarantee of the importance of the efforts now being
INFORMATION concerniojr these modee of doing good has made to restore to the true Church its primitive order of
been much needed in our land ; we rejoice that it is now faithful women as Deaconesses.
fnrniHhed.
In a pamphlet* remarkable for Its clo^e research and
clear reasoning, and also for the integrity with which It MEMORY'S SONG.
sets foi tb the Bible way of woman's work as a helper in
Full well do I remember, love,
the Christian Church, the idea is advanced and sustained Those golden autumn eves.
(hat *'rt parochial order of iteacoTietiSfs Is what is wanted When, full of new-horn hopes, we watched
The falling maple-leaves ;
for onr age and country." By this is meant "a womanly
When, clinging to the witliercd grass,
ministration, responsible to the clergy, stimulating; and The dewdi'ops sparkled bright,
gathering together the working elements of the Church, And stars, like eyes from heaven came out
looking after the poor, sick, and fallen, supervising the
Amid the fading light.
Mothers' Jleeting, visiting at the Widow's Homo aud It seemed as if the skies leaned down
the Orphanage, suggesting (where these are needed) the With a softer, deeper blue.

erection of such asylums, liy the very provision of an

And oh to our young,
! trusting hearts
Did not the world stem trttf. /
agency to care for them, and by dwelling, if possible, in What thoughts of coming days we kept
a house of its own, into which the destitute may be re- Within our throbbing hearts!
Little we knew iiod little cared
ceived for nursing, care, aud medicine, and from which
About these worldly arts.
there can be sent out proper comforts for their need.''
See Report, page 2.*?. Perhaps we've grown some wiser since,
And learned more courtly ways.
Thug, clearly and consistently with God's Word, are
But yet we still have kept unchanged
Fhown the duties of the Doacuness. The Committee are The love of other days.
aUo careful to point out the natural endowments of wo- We heed not now the wintry storm
That howls without our door,
man for her office. Ext-ept to pray that God would guavd
**
There can be no doubt among believers in the Bible The houseless, shivering poor.
that woman was created to be tho helpmeet for man,' to
'

be his comp.Huion atid comforter, to supplement his state, For once again our thoughts go ont
to make Ihut cornplete which was most imperfect with- Intt) those halcyon days.
out her. By the peculiarities of h^-r nature in delicacy, And Hope, bright bird, sings joyously
tenderness, intuitive perception, and tact; by her pa- Her sweet, enchanted lays;
tience, fidelity, and devotion, by her power of suflerance And we are dieaming of the time
and her ela*;ticity of temperament, and by her deep and When, through that forest wild.
all-absorbing love, she lends that to society in which We IW" shall guide the welcome feet
man, as sucli, is deficient. In whatever contributes to Of our own little child. Clio Sta.vlet.
the happiness of life, slie bears the foremost part, and
especially in hours when sicknessand exhaustion over-
take the body, or the daily needs of the creature call for MISTAKES IN LANGUAGE.
help. We cannot but think there was something signi-
ficant and suggestive in the accompaniment by holy OxE of the most common vulgarities in onr literaturo
women of our Incarnate Lord, and iu IIis receipt from
them of substantial benefit. It was meant to leach IIis is the use of the adjective fe.male for the noun vooman.
Church their relation as helpers. In the Bible this phraseology is never used ftfmale ;

"In the I'rovidence of (.Jod, women have generally
been first to reispoiid to the word of the Gospel. Their
hearts have been soonest opened to attend unto the things
which have been spoken by the preacher, and they have
earliest offered themselves to the Master's service. By
their excess in point of numbers (in the churches), by
their comparative freedom from engaging ties, by tlieir
frequent orphanage and more fetiuent widowhood, and
above all by the readiness of their consecration of self
to the cause of graco and mercy, there has always been
provided, nn there always will be found, a baud of
ministering angels' ou the side of the Church, from
which she can draw, a^ she has done already, seivitors
to her aid.'* Pages 7 aud 3.
designates sex, but not personality. In a notice of Mr.
Rhind's work on the recent excavations in Pompeii, th
following sentence occurs, which will illnatrate the
mistakes we mean. The writer had been telling of the
manner of taking bust^ from the dead figures, and says:
" Afterwards the remains of two frmaUs, a woman aud
young girl, were, preserved in the game manner in the ;
eldA^r ftmalt the left hand is shut," etc.
Here three superfluous words are used (two females
and elder). It should have been written "the remains
of a woman and a youug girl in the woman the leU ;

The order of Deaconesses has already been partially hand is shut.** The writer felt that females woald not
* Report made to the C'Onvention of the Diocexo of * Rev. George Leed s, Rev. M. A De Wol fe Howe. D D . ,

Pennsylvania on Organizing the Services of Christian Rev. Leigbton Coleman, Kev. Felix R. Brunot, Prof.
Women. May, 1863, Henry Coppce.

584 godey's lady's book and magazine.
accurately express his meaning, yet he has left
words and thus vuljjarized the style.
in his article,
Female, means the sex tliat produces young, aud can,
as a noun or name, only apply to animals. Woman was
the Eden name given to the feminine of humanity that
name and its equivalents, girl, maiden, lady, etc., words
never used for animals, are the only proper terms of
language to designate in the human species the feminine
characteristics.
Mrs. Mason, and 'Woman's Mission to Woman. We
are hnppy to pay to those who took an earuest interest
in Mrs. Mason's plan of missions that her course is
tained by the highest courts of British Burmah.
Chief Commissioner* has not only cleared her of all blame
JD the chargesmade against Dr. aud Mrs. Mason, but has
triumphantly placed these devoted missionaries before
the world as exemplars of remarkable success in doing
good to the poor heathen. He says:
"I have had ample opportunity personally of observ-
ing and of learning from foimer cases, as well as the
present, what the Rev. Dr. aud Mrs. Mason have done
for the Kareu mountaineers in the Toungoo district.
They found them in a state of savage barbarism. There
are now twenty-five chousiind of them, either Christians
or under Christian teaching and influence. Tliey found
them split up into tribes and clans, warring against each
other, and taking captives to sell as slaves.
"Wherever the Gospel has been spread, such acts no
longer prevail. Tiiey have ceased not only amongst the
Christian tribes, but also among the heaiheu tribes, ex-
cept those on the extreme border Now, I confidently
assert that this great and beneficial change has been
accomplished mainly, indeed almost etJtirely. by the
labors of Dr. and Mrs. Mason aud of the Karen Minister
Sau Quala. I assert, from long experience among simi-
lar tribe-;, that such results could not be obtained by the
Civil Administraiion unaided by Missionary teacliing.
*'
The Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Mtxarm lutve my entire co/i/S-
dence, and I trust they will crmtinue the noble work
among the Karen tribes, in which they have been so
eminently successful."
To OCR Friends and Cokrkspondents. Another year
gone, and Christmas, the season of thanks and good
is
wishes, as it draws near, reminds us of the many favors
aud warm-hearted compliments we have received from
our Editorial friends. Allow us to express our sincere
tlianks for your constant and willing support. We trust
that the New Year will flndyouall iu the circle of those
who are pledged to the " Lady's Book." It shall be our
endeavor to make the volumes for IS6-1 worthy of your
approval.
The following articles are accepted :
" Long Ago"
"Persevere, or Life with an Aim" "My Ideal"
Vision by Moonlight" "Out of Town" " Grandmother
Meridith" "Port- folio Dot tings" and "To Mary on her
Birthday."
These articles are necpssarily declined " November"
: pose.
"
Bereavement" "The Harvest Moon" (the writer can
do better) "Thy will be done" "Amazons" "Can-
zonet" " Oh where is my b^y to-night ?" " An appeal
! ;
to Time" "Give me a Ro>e"" Broken-hearted"
"Song" "A longRiad" "My first Love and my last"
"The worth of a Dollar" "The Art of talking non-
fiense"- and "My Watch."
We have other articles on hand next month these
;
will be noticed.
Will Mrs. C. C. H. of Panama, Chautaiique County,
New York, send us the title of her hvst story?
" Henry Drummoud's Choice" has been received, but
no letter. What is to be done with the MS. ?
* Lieut. Colonel Phayre.
A
these
eidtjj Qcprtnunt.
;
In this season of physical health, we will, omitting
the usual detail of diseases aud remedies for bodily com-
plaints, give a few suggestions for the better conserva-
tion of family life aud domestic happiness. It is in
unison with the season to be careful of our home resources ;
if the chief meansenjoyment and improvement are
of
not found in the places where we dwell, our hopes of
rf'f? comfort may beat once leliuquished life will be ;
sus-
only a "winter of discontent." We are not intending to
The
read a homily on the subject of domestic miseries. The
season of Christmas should be cheerful with hope; so
we take our suggestions from a cheerful writer and good
adviser.*
"Every farmer and every h unhand owes it to himself, in
a pecuniary point of view, and to his wife aud childien,
as a matter of policy and atl'eciiitn, to pi ovide the means
early for clothing his househt)ld according to the sea-
sons, so as to enable them to prepare against winter
especially. Ev* ry winter garment should be completed
by the first of November, ready to be put on when the
first winter day comes. In multitudes of cases valuable
lives have been lost to farmers' families by improvidence
as to this point. Most special attention should he given
to the under-clothing that should be prepared first, and
;
enough of it to have a chaiit^ein case of an emergency or
accident. Many farmers are even niggardly in furnish-
ing their wives the means for such things it is far wiser
;
and safer to stint the membei's of his family in their food
than in the timely aud abundant supply of substantial
under-clothing for winter wear. No money is better
spent on a farm or anywhere else, than that which
enables the wife to make herself, her children, her hus-
band, and her house appear fully up to their circum-
stances. The consciousness of a torn or buttonless jacket
or soiled dress degrades a boy or girl in their own esti-
mation, and who that is a man does not feel himself
degraded under the consciousness that he is wearing a
dirty shirt/ Tlie wife wlio is worthy of the name will
never allow these things if she is provided with means
for their prevntinn, and it is in the noble endeavor t-i
maintain for herself and family a respectability of
appearance which their station demand, with meansand
help far too limited, which so irritates, and chafes, and
annoys her proper pride, that many a time the wife's
heart, and constitution, and health are all brukeu
together. This is the history of multitudes of farmers'
wives (and other mens' wives also), and the niggardly
natures which allow it, after taking an intelligent view
of the subject, are simply beneath contempt. What adds
to the belter appearance of the person, elevates; what
adds to the better appearance of a farm, increases its
vfttue and the respectability of the occupant so that it is
;
always a good investment, morally and pecuniarily, for
a fanner to supply his wife generously and cheerfully,
*'
according to his ability, with the means of making her
family and home neat, tasteful, and tidy. A dollar's
worth of lime, a shilling ribbnn, or a few pennies' worth
of paint may be so used as to give an impiession of life,
of cheerfulness, aud of thrift about a h"me altogether
beyoud the value of the means employed for the pur-
"Finally, let the farmer always remember that his
wife's cheerful and hearty co-operation is essential to his
success, and is really of as much value in attaining it,
all things considered, as anything that he can do and
as she is very ceitainly his superior in her moral nature,
it legitimately follows that he should not only regard
her as his equal in material matters, but should habitu-
ally accord to her that deference, that consideration, and
that high jespect which is of right her due, and whjcli
can never fail to impress on the children and servants,
who daily witness it, a dignity and an elevation of man-
ner, and thought, and feeling, and deportment which
will prove to all who see them that the wife is a lady
aud the husband a man, a gentleman and a large pecu-
;
niary success, with a high moral position and wide
social influence, will be the almost certain results."
* Dr. W. W. Hall, Editor of Hall'Ji Journal of Hmlth.
See February number, page 3j, " Farmers' Wives."


LITERARY NOTICES. 585

present. A vocabulary of concise definitions, giving the

correct pronunciation of the words, adds to the complete-
J^ittrari] Xloticts. ness of the book.

Owiso to the immense iocrease in the price of books, W.

From D. Appleton & Co., New York, throagU P.
wo will not receive further orders to seoJ by mail. It
Hazard, Philadelphia:
never was a Nource o( pruHt to nn, but generally a loas, PALMONI ; or, Tlie Xtimfrals of Scripture. A Frouf
on account of the postaj^e wo had to pay. of Inxpiratinn. A Free Inquiry. By M. Mahan, D. D.,
St. Marks-in-the- Bowery, Professor of Ecclesiastical Hi*;-
From PBTSRS05 & Brothers, Philadelphia: tory in the General Theological Seminary. Though re-
THE SHADOW OF ASHLYDYAT. By Mrs. Henry ligious In tone, this work will attract more especially
Wood, author of "The Castle's Heir," "Squire Trev- those individuals who delight in the curious, the coin-
lyn'8 Heir," etc. Mrs. Wood is one of the few who ex- cideutal, and the myi^tical, rather than such as look
C'?l ia the writinif of dome.stic novels. She takes cora- only for simple or eveu controversial religious reading.
moDplace characters aud everyday events, and invents There are many interesting points in chronology and
Ihem with a dramatic interest that proves most attractive numerals brought forward by Ms learned author.
to the reader. "The Shadow of Ashlydyat" we have A CLASS-BOOK OF CHEMISTRY. A new Edition,
found time only to examine most hastily, but its author By Edward L, Yonmans, J[. D., au-
entirely rewritten.
is too old au acquaintance of the public to need special thor of "The Chemical Chart," *' Hand-book of House-
recommendation from us now. We will vouch for the hold Science," etc. This book, designed especially for
story being equal in merit to her former ones. the use of schools and colleges, contains the latest facts
THE GOLD SEEKERS. A T'le of Oili/ornia. By and principles of the science of chemistry, explained
Guvtave Aimard, author of " The Prairie Flower," and applied to the arts of life and the phenomena of
"The Tiger Slayer," etc. As a writer of tjtles filled with nature.
romance and perilous adventures, Aimard has few rivals
in his special field.
From Ttckttor & Fields, Boston, through T. B- Peter-
son & Brother:?, Philadelphia:
From J. & Co., Philadelphia:
B. Lippincott
FREEDOM AND WAR: Dis<y>ur8es on Topics srtggesi-
CHAMBERS' ENCYCLOPAEDIA. Parts tJ6 and 67.
edbytfie Times. By Henry Ward
Beecher. This book
THE BOOK OF DAYS. Part 17.
comprises some eighteen sermons, preached at various
"We have so often commended these valuable works to
times, from the autumn of 1S.'>9 to the winter of the
our subscribers that tliey ouj^'ht now to know their value
present year, all ofthem relating to political subjects.
as well as we do. They are only 20 cents a part aud ;

Embracing the best specimens of their anthnr's vigorou-*

each part is well worth the money, independent of its
and original style, they will find numerous readers
connection with the whole work.
among his hosts of admirers.
GALA DAYS. By Gail Hamilton, author of "Country
From Harper & Brothers, New York, through Living and Country Thinking." The author of this
Pktersos & Brothers, Philadelphia: volume being desirous, as she tells us, to write a book of
ELEANOR'S VICTORY. A ^uvtl. By M. E. Braddon, travels, resolves to travel in order that she may write.
author of "Aurora Floyd," etc. In this woik. Miss We have, as the result, a very readable book, highly
Braddon has left her beaten track and surpassed her- tinged with its author's personality, descriptive of her
self. If "Aurora Floyd" was sufficient to give its au- journeying, from her descent from the garret with her
thor reputation, "Eleanor's Victory" will do much to- trunk, onward, to Saratoga, Canada, the White Moun-
wards perpetuating that reputation ; as, in our opinion, tains, etc. She is sprightly, vivacious, original, aud
it is There are a wider range and
written far better. occasionally poetical, though one sometimes wearies of
greater individuality of character than in any of her Rcertain straining after "style."
previous works; and, having forsaken her thre:(dbare Ol'R OLD HOME: A (f English Shtchfft. By-
S'^i*'^
theme of bigamy, she has produced a really original Nathaniel Hawthorne. This volume is not a record of
plot. scenery and events hastily witnessed and jotted down
DAILY WALK WITH WISE MEN; or, RUigitm^ by a tourist. It is a collection of sketches narrating the
Kzercists/'jrEtxryDayinthe Tear. Selected, Arranged, experiences of aman who, during a residence in the
and specially Adapted by Rev. Nelson Head. Asadaily country and among the people he describes, had ample
help to Christian meditation, devotion, and holy prac- opportunity for observation, and leisure for digestion of
tice, this is a most excellent work. Nearly all the au- ideas and prejudices. It is an Ametican's view of Eng-
thors whose writings have been used in its preparation, land ; and, proceeding from Hawthorne's graceful pen,
lived during th seventeenth century, or at an earlier it will be found both plea-^ant and in*itrnetive reading.
period. The have been made with judgment,
selections METHODS OF STUDY IN N.ATURAL HISTORY.
and are such as will meet the approval of Christians of By L. Agassiz. has been the intention of the author
It

whatever creed. of this book to present in popular form the views ex-
CHRESTOMATHIE FRANCAISE. A French Ttrnding
pressed in a previous work his "Essay on Classifica-
B'tok. By William I. Kuapp, A. M., Professor of Modern tion." He gives, within its pages, great emphasis to bis
Language and Literature In Madison University. This opinion unfavorable to the transmntation theory, which
book cannot fail to be of service to the French student, certain naturalists are now strenuonsly advocating.
not only as regards a knowledge of the French language, MEDITATIONS ON LIFE AND ITS RELIGIOUS
bat in making him familiar with the best literature of DUTIES. Translated from the German. By Frederica
that language. Itsconteots are made up of selections Rowan. This is a cumpaiiion volume to " Meditations
from Rousseau, >[olii-re, Fenelon, Beraotrer, Lamarcine. on Death and Eternity," recently translated by the saino
and other well-known French authors of the past and lady, aud reprinted in America by the same publishini;
 ;

586 godey's lady's boot: and magazine.

house. It is filled with pure and beautiful religiouB This number is the 402d number of the Lady's Book
eentiment, the perusal of which cannot fail to benefit that we have published. If our readers will divide 402
miud aod heart. The book is dedicated to the Princess by 12, it will give 33 years and 6 months. From the first
Lonis of Hesse. number to the last, solely under the control of the pre-
LEVANA or. The Doctrine of Education. Translated
; sent publisher, without change of any kind from the
from the Gerroaa of Jeau Paul Friederich Kichter, author commencement, and a gradual increase of sub.^criptioa
of *' Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces," etc. " Lev ana" from the first year of publication to the present time,
is written in Richter's peculiar style, and is perhaps and now publishing the largest monthly list of any
the most perfect specimen of metaphysical German magazine In the United States.
literature which we have ever examined. There is
much truth and many wise su^'^estions within its pages, Lttfrart News. Our readers will be pleased to hear
but it requires a clenr head and well cultivated mind to that we have made arrangements with Marion Harland,
perceive and understand them through all the obacaii- the well-known author of "Alone," "Hidden Path,"
ties of diction. "Moss Side," Nemesis," and "Miriam," for a series of
stories. We will commence in January a novel from
her pen, entitled "Nobody to Blame." Every number

iobtu's Ji'iu-Cljiiir. for 1S64 will contain a story

compliment the Book,
from her pen. This is a
no other
to as she writes for
magazine. The stories will be copyrighted, so that they
Our December NrMBRR. Fonr fashions from the
may not be found anywhere hut in the pages of the
great importins,' firm of Messrs. A. T. Stewart & Co., not
Lady's Book.
accessible by any other magazine. This is a privilege
that the Lady's Book is allowed, exclusively, to publish
the fashions from this celebrated house, which gives the TouNQ Ladies' Seminary for Boardiztq and Day
tone to the fashionable world throughout the Union. PrPiLS. Mrs. Gertrude J. Cary, Principal, South-east
They are prepaied expies-ly in Paris for this establish- corner Sixteenth and Spruce Streets, Philadelphia, Pa.
ment only, and the only magazine privileged to produce The nineteenth session of this school commenced Septem-
them is Godey's Lady's Bimk. berl4th, 1863.
Our Title-page. Godey first led in this plan of giving The course of study pursued embraces the fundamen-

Tignette title-pages. Others have copied them. No mat- tal and higherbrancliet: of a thorough English education.
ter. If we were to put our plates in the back of the Particular attention is given to the acquisition of thr-

Book they would do the same. Fiist-class poetry only French language, and a resident French Teacher fur-
is parodied ; it is a sign of merit. Therefore thecompli- nishes every facility for making it the medium of daily
ment is paid the Lady's Book by inferior publications, intercourse. Mrs. Cary gives personal attention to tlie

by copying everything we do. Inferior, of course but ;

instruction of her pupils, aided by experienced lady

as they have no idea.'i of their own, they must have a teachers, and the best professional talent in the city. It

Those who do not see the originals are satisfied is her constant endeavor to secure an equal development
guide.
by the humble imitation buC it is the penalty that
;
of body, mind, and heart, and the formation of habits of

greatness has to pay. Tn resume: Our vignette Title- neatness and industry.
page for December cnmprises five separate and distiuct Mrs. S. J. Hale, Kev. H. A. Boardman, D. D., Rev. J.
pictures, the principal of which is " A father telling Jenkins, D. D., Rev. M. A. De Wolfe Howe, D. D Louis ,

Christmas stories to his children," "Gathering Christmas A. G.'dey, Esq.. Philadelphia ; Rev. J. N. Candee. D D.,

greens, "An old-fashioned sleighing party," "Youth," Galeshnrg, Louis H. Jenkins, Jacksonville,
III- ; 111.

and "Age," the whole embraced in one picture by a Eev. George DufSeld, Jr., Adrian, Mich.
beautiful tree covered with suow. One of the hand- Circulars sent on application.

Boraest designs we have ever given.

Our first plate is "The Daily Governess." Of this we We ask attention to our advertisement for 1S64. pub-

can only speak of the brauly of the engraving, leaving lished in this number. It is but a faint outline of what
other description to the very excellent story that illus- we will do, but will g^ive some general idea of what the
trates the engraving. Lady's Book will be. In fact, it is hardly necessary for
Godey'a Fashions for December. See the bride and us to publish any advertisement. Our subscribers and

her attendants seven figures in all, a splendid variety. the public know that we will publish the best lady's

"A False Alarm." A sweep descending the wrong book in the world: and they have known
us bo long
chimney. Such things have happened. that they are willing to trust even without any
ns,

"Spanish Opeia Hond," printed in colors. Avery promises on our part. We are thankful, very thankful
comfortable article for the present season. See descrip- for the patronage we have received for the last thirty-

tion in the Fashion department. four years; and we can only add that, having found that

In a small portion of ouredition a mistake occurred in fulfilling every promise made has been the best policy,

printing this "Spanish Opera C/of/A:." that plan we shall still continue to pursue.

This number contains stories by Miirioa Harlaud,

Mrs. HaleIs anxious to procure a copy of " Sketches
Miss Frost, and Miss Townsend.
ofAmerican Life," and "Traits of American Character,"
A Mkrrt CHRtsTMAs and a Happy New Tear to onr two works of which she is the author. A year's sub-
numerous and never tiring friends. We cordially wish scription to the Lady's Book will be given for either

that all the blessed and genial influence of the season work.
may be theirs. They will be pleased to hear that never
were the prospects of their favorite "Godey" brighter. Particflar notice to the binder of the Lady's Bonk.
We now publish the largest list ever published by any Please give the fashion-plate a double fold, as shown in
magazine in the United States, our December number for 1S62.
 GODEY'S AUM-CHAIB. 587

Makk IP T.>rH Ci.CBi. Kf member that tbe Lady's Book EXTBACT FKOH A LbTTEE FROM PARIs:
in the t>e.%t uurk for ladie;* pul)U>litHl iu thU couutry. We A grand review of the Garde Imp.riale, now in Paris,

bare more tlian on /Auturnru/ private letten te^tifyiDg to took place yesterday at the Bois de Boulogne, by tbe
tbitt fact, aud tbe pres tbruu^'hout tbe cuUDtry is uuaui- Emperor in pernyu Tbe Enipre>8 drove there Ibts time
mouii iu the Lady's Book i(( i)ie be^t ma^aitne
^ayiDl^* tbat in a carriage. She astonished the English and otber
of it kind io tbis or aoy ot)i>r cotiiury. Tbe difference id foreigners present, accustomed to see her Majesty always
tbe clab price of tbe Lady's B.'^ik nod that of other ma^^* attired in the most elegant manner, by the extreme
ziueit is only a few ceala, and I'or these few cents yuu get simplicity of her costume, which coueisted of a light
nearly one-tbird more readiuij and enj;ravin(f!, be^ides brown dress and cape, with a very simple fancy straw
otber more expensive embolllxhineDts tbat a low-priced bonnet, and ribbons to maicb her dress.
tua^zine cannot afford to give. Clubs must he for the Tbe comb is henceforth an obsolete article in fashion-
I*ady's Book alone, with one (>X(.-4>ption, and tbat "Ar- is able circles, and ladies are reverting to tbe lady Godiva
thur's Home Magazine. " One or more of that work can style of wearing the hair that is, letting it flow down
;

be iutrodoced ia a club in place of the Lady's Book, if over the shoulders. Little girls, having abandoned the
de-^ired. once popular net, now have their hair crimped, and
Any person, with a very little trouble, can get np a club then allowed to iJow loosely down the back. When the
for the Book : we have fretjuently h<?en so informed by hair is of a liglit auburn or golden hue, it has a pretty
Ladieit tbe work is so popular. It h but to call and get a effect, reminding oue of early English maidens with
duhscriptton. we are able to
Clubs are always in time, as names like Maude and Mary, who used to live in the
supply numbers from the heginning of tbe year; yet we days of the Round Table.
like them sent in soon, to know how many we shall print. Older girls, and young and even middle-aged ladies,
Remember, work with iro,i>'to subscribers can give
that a have, however, made a compromise in the matter which
five times as much
as a work with only half tbat number, is perfectly frightful. The hair is rumpled up so as to
iind the embellishments can also be made of a very supe- stand out on the head, a.s if it had not been combed for
rior character. a week, aud then the back bair is also carefully rumpled
Uur terms are made plain and explicit, so that they may is loosely fastened up by a comb. The head is then
be easily nnderstood. We are often a>.ked to throw in an considered arranged for the opera or ballroom and, aa ;

extra copy. In no instance can this be done, as our terms seen then and there, suggests "Tilly Slowboy" after one
are ^o low to clubs that it cannot be afforded. A shop- of her "cow-like gambols" around the cradle of "Dot's**
keeper would look amazed, if a purchaser t^hould ask him baby.
to throw iu an extra yard becau&e she had purchased Tbe Ebglish ladies dress far more elaborately at tbe
twelve. And yet we are asked to add an extra copy be- opera and concert-room than the Ameiicaus. Even in
eaose twelve have been ordered. It cannot be done. the second-rate theatres
dim, dirty, mean-looking
places (there is not such a place as your neat little

t20 Clcb. Chestuat Street Theatre) they come in "gorgeous ar-

For three years I have taken your Book, and feel tbat ray," which would have proved very gratifying to tbe
I must still have it. The getting up of this club ia my feeling of the parient of the "Binuh*' of the lamented
first attempt, and lam happy to say I have bad good "Mr. Villikens." Opera cloaks are of different styles,
liuccess. Words are iuadeiiuate to express tbe happi- and colored cloaks, corded with gold, are becoming
ness I haveonjoycd in perusing your Lady a Book; and popular. Combs are an important article of head gear,
I can say to all lovers of choice literature tbat Godey's for the theatre, being usually of gold, ornamented with

is the best. It should be in every family, as it cannot rabies and emeralds. Of course, artificial flowers are in
fail to suit the most fa.ttidious. 21ks. G., Mass. great vogue, and happy is that matron who can perch a
bird of paradise on top of her head. Dresses are worn
Club.
82i
Tiie Lady's Book is very necessary for ns, and we
very low in the neck, and at this season white is the pre-
vailing color at opera and theatre, as well as in private
welcome it each month with increasing admiration.
MiiW any lady can do without it is a wonder to me' assemblies.

When yoo that the club I send you for tbe Book
I tell A Pbese.vt for a LADT.~Did it ever strike any of onr
is the largest oue sent from our office this year, it will young make a more agreeable
friends that they could not
prove to ynjk that we appear to appreciate the efforts Christmas or New Tear's present to a young lady than
you are making to please and improve us. a year's sub-cription to tbe Lady's Book? Will it not
Miss E. H , JfteA. monthly call the donor to their remembrance, and will
$15 Clcb. thoy not be particularly gratified in receiving so n&eful
Allow me to congratnlate yon on your snceess io ren- a present ?
dering Godey's Lady's Book so rare a gem. I for one
cannot do without it, and sbonld I live to be a centena- Messrs. J. E. Tiltok <fr Co., Boston, have for sale all
rian shall desire at least to clip the leaves and pemse the materials for the different styles of Painting and Draw-
pages of Godey's incomparable Lady's Book. ing taught in their book, Art Recreations. Thoy will
E. E., Ind, send a price list, if requested, and an.swer neces-'ary
12 CrxB. qoestions, and will furnif*b, postpaid, theb<iok for $2 00.
It teaches Pencil and Crayou Dniwing, Oil Painting of
I have now much pleasnre in sending you a club for

your Book, which is perused by all here, and indeed every kind, Wax-work, Leather-work, Water Color
we cannot do without it. Painting, and hundreds of fancy kinds of drawing,
R. J. S., Canada.
painting, etc. etc.
I AX an enthusiastic admirer of your Book, and hare,
B'nce my earliest remembrance, been a constant reader, "Nobody to Blamb," is the title of the new novel by
a.id feel that I have been mnch beueflted by it. Marion Harland, to be commenced in the January num-
A. B.. i/tf. ber. It is W'Ttby of her pen.
 godey's lady's book and magazine.

Willard's Hotel, 'Washington, D. C, Sykes, Chad- OUK MUSICAL COLUMN.

toick & Co., Proprintors.
This time-honored establishment, the head-quarters of
Miss Sichingsand English Opei'a. Opera at any place
everything in the great city, has been entirely renovated

but the Academy the Temple of Music has always
appeared to as a flat contradiction of terms, but a six
for the approaching season. Very few of our good citi-
weeks' successful run of the new Richings' troupe at
zens have any idea what a splendid establishment is
another house has made us less skeptic;il. This new
Willard's. It occupies nearly a square of ground, and
troupe is the best we have had in English Opera since
Washington squares go a little ahead of Philadelphia
the era of the Seguius; and we are glad to record the
squares ia size, as everything in Washington is on a
fact, since the troupe is a Philadelphia troupe. Miss
I.trge scale. It has a dining-room, 250 feet long, beauti-
Caroline Kichings, in her new sph-^ro of prima-donna,
ftilly and freshly frescoed, whence ascends the grand
has developed a capacity and talent unequalled by any
staircase to the upper rooms, giving the ladies an oppor-
of her predecessors since Mrs. Wood. The stiflness and
tunity of entering the dining-room without coming in
coldness of her mauoer have been toned down, while
contact with the general sojourners in the house. The
her voice has developed a degree of power and sweetness
sleeping apartments are admirably arranged, having
gas and water in each room. The ventilation has been
which really astonished us. We never anticipated so
pleasing a re-sult. The rolfi of Madelaine, in the Postil-
well attended to. Six hundred persons can find accom-
lion ofLonjumeau, is on^ of her best parts, but its effect
modation but during the winter season, more than
;

was marred by the insufficient rehearsal of the remaining

11)00 persons have dined in the spacious dining-room.
parts. Mr. Hill has a fresh, full tenor voice, and with
There are four spacious parlors fronting the grand ave-
hard study will make quite an acceptable primo tenore
nue, from the windows of which may be constantly seen
but he must eschew Brignoli's faults. Young Mr.
the out-door life of the metropolis. The hotel is in the
Peguin's buffo contains promise of merit. With Mr.
immediate vicinity of the public offices, the PresiBcnt's
Peakes we lost all patience; his/rM7i'ni(?5.i wasunpardon-
house, the public squares, and the residences of the
able. The troupe is now faiily established in the line
foreign ambassadors. A telegraph office is in the house.
of regular English opera, and we wish it every success.
We have said that this is the head-quarters of Washing-
ton. Let any one take a position in the main entrance

The Musical Monthly. The final number for the
present year of this very successful periodical is now
foran hour or so during the season, and he will in that
ready, together with a title page and complete index for
time see almost every person of note in the city, for it is
the volume, for gratuitous distribution to subscribers.
an understood thing that if you want to find any person
We have the continued testimony of our friends that a
Willard's is the place. We have as yet said nothing nf
more delightful variety of music has never been pub-
the proprietors. Every one knows them, especially
lished, while the beauty of the publication still com-
" Chad,"' as he is All Philadelphiaus
familiarly called.
mands universal praise. Tho work has been pronounced
know him, andwon't take long for any proper jierson
it
a " musical necessity," and one that *' no piano-player,
to make his acquaintance. It is well known that in all
lady or gentleman, should be without." For the ac-
machinery there must be a main spring, a governing
commodation of our friends who have incomplete sets

jiower in all departments a head. In some cases this
we will furnish what back numbers they may wish, for
iij conspicuous in others it is felt, not seen.
; There is
the present, at 2.1 cents each, and a three cent stamp on
;it Willard's a person without whom matters would not
each number ordered, for postage. This offer will
go on as well, even in so well conducted an establish-
remain open but a short time, and our friends should
ment. We allude to Mr. Peter Gardner, late of the New
send in without delay for what numbers they want. A
York Hotel. Here is a man that can "keep a hotel."
list of the contents of the numbers will be forwarded to
fjireat iuducements have been offered to Mr. Gardner to
any address on receipt of a three cent stamp.
.secede from this establishment, but be will not leave

Christinas Dimhle Siimher. We shall open the new
that place which he has brought to such good working
volume of the Monthly with a splendid number, con-
order. Peter is a modest man, which for so good-look-
taining nearly double the usual quantity of music
iuif a one is rather a peculiarity. But it is even so, and
About two dollars' worth of music will be given in this
lio will be surprised to see his name in print. The pro-
one number, and all for 25 cents, as part of the yearly
jirietors ofthe New York Hotel did not kuow his worth
subscription of three dollars. The number separately
until he had left them, and would most willingly give
will be sold for 50 cents. The contrnt*Kvill all be
hhmche for his return. But it is too late. He is
Ci>r I e
appropriate to the season, and will include Christmas
now where he is appreciated by both proprietors and Chimes, a splendid new nocturne by that favorite com-
guests, and may he long continue his administration at
poser, Brinley Richards ; Happy New Year's Schottische,
Willard's.
by Ascher; Around the new song and chorus by
Fire,

the author of At the Gate, etc Under the Mistletoe, a

;

Old Terms. It will be seen by our advertisement

beautiful new and Kris Kingle, a charming
ballad ;

thatwe have gone back again to our old terms. We divertimento. Each piece will have a separate title
were forced to make a slight advance during a portion
page, and the whole will be done up in illuminated
of this year, on account of the great rise in paper, and
covers. Copies will be ready by the first of December.
of every article connected with our business and al- ;
It will make a splendid Christmas present, and thousands
thougji but change has been made in the co'^t of
little
of copies will no doubt be sold for that purpose alone.
the same articles, still we return to our old terms, which
Biivnd Volumes. A few copies of the Monthly, com-
liave always been so well understood by the public.
plete for the year, are ready, neatly bound, at $5.00 sent
free by mail, or $4.36 by express. It makes a splendid
Arthur's Homr Magazine This
very excellent and gift book. Address all orders to J. Starr HoUoway,
best of the 82 magazines is the only magazine that can Publisher, Box Post Office, Philadelphia.
be introduced in a club in place of a copy of the Lady's .She'^t Music.
The newest and best pieces arjnamed in
Book. recent columns. J. Starr Hui.i.oway.


oodet's abm-chaib. 589

Ws pablish two of tbc aDrcdotPs odf " Little Sabscri- Postage: on the Lady's Book, according to the late Uw
bor" sent u.s ; tlio third we omit, aswe will Dot publish passed last winter.
any child anecdotes ia which the name of Ood is irrcve- S'rtion .36. Postage on Godey's Lady's Book. 21 cents
reatly aed. & year, payable yearly, semi-yearly, or quarterly in ad-
vance.
Xbwabk, Ohio. News dealers may receive their package" at the sarat
Dear Mr. Godet Swinff yonr inquest for jukes I
:
rates, that is, 2 cents for each copy of the magazine, aud
end you three, which I consider very (fo^d. My five may pay separately for each package as received.
year old coasia was crackiut; tiuzelauts otte day, aud
lioldintf one up he said Ma. did yoo know this is a
:
*

oldie/?"' *-No, Johaoy. why?' " Bocaufto it "s a ker- Ox page ISS of our November number, we pnblished
Del" (Colonel). an account of the finding of a photograph in the hands
Another little relative, abont four years old, was walk-
iDj? with his brother when he spied the skeleton of a rat. of a Southern soldier. It should have been a Federal
" O Georxie t" said be, "Umk, there is the hoop skirt of soldier. We have seen the photograph, and beautiful
a rat." I send yoathe-e, with many kind wishet*. Your
children they are. B. Shriver, P. M. at Gtafenburg, P.
litde aubficriber aud couslani reader, Alice H. C.
is the holder of the picture.
And here is another anecdote famished as by a enb-
Kcriber: A Good Hoax. That joking paper, the Londnn PvtrtrJi,
MfLWAUERB. Wis. pnblished the following. Very many of our papern
DsAR Mr. GoprY: A'' r'^qn^sted to furmsb anecdotes, have published it as if emanating from Queen Vic*
I can accotnmodato yon wiih one, at least, which hap-
toria :

peued withiu my own household not over two weeks

ince. My last aervjiut. Miss Delia, was instructed how The QrEF.s^oxCRiNoi.rsB. Her Majesty has addressed
to prepare some India-rubber nipples for baby's bottle, the following remonstrance to the ladies of England.
by pourinsT boiliuir-wator over them, and letting them Windsor Casti-e, Aug. 1, 1863.
4tand until they ifoi cold, and then dryiu? them well.
These instructions were g-iveu at 9 A. M., and about 7 Ladies: TlieQneen has commanded me to express the
P. M. I was in the kitchen, when Mis^ Delia, taking' up pain with which Her Majesty reads the accounts of
a dipper of boiling water from a kettle, said: " I gnes,
daily accidents arising from the wearing of the indeli-
ma'am, the.se have cooked eoongh." Aad to my aston-
ishment, I fonnd that the riibh^n* had been bnVing over cate, expensive, dangerous, and hidf*ons article calle*l
nine honrs. When queitioued what could be her inten- crinoline. Her Majesty cannot refrjiin from making
tion for doing so, she said "She wanted to make them
:
known yon her extreme displeasure that educated
to
soft forthe baby's month.'' And, sure enough, they were
Bufl enough to stretch from Milwaukee to Philadelphia. women should, by esarople. eoconrage the wearing ofa
If yon have any one in your neighborhood that know-; dress which can be pleasing only to demoralized taste.
less on the India-rnbbcr qne>:t~ion, let us hear from
For the miserable idiots who abjectly copy the habits of
them. Tonrs, etc., Mrs. K. D. P
those conventionally termed their betters, it is impon-
sible to entertain anything but pity. But to the ladie
FiRE-PROOP Dresses. Scarcely a week passes bnt we
of England this appeal to abandon the present degrad-
read sad accounts of yonng ladies being burnt to death,
ing, d^ingeroas, and disgusting fashion is made in th
wing to their light mnslin garments catching fire. It
belief that they will show thcra.selves the rational and
ought to be generally known that all Hi^ht dresses may
decorons persons whrim th*y are supposed to be. I have
be made fire-proof at a mere nominal cost, by steeping
the honor to be, ladies, your most obedient and humble
them, or the linen or cotton used in making them, in a
dilute solution of chloride of zinc.
servant,
^ C. B. Phipps.

Messrs. A. T. Stewart & Co.. of New York, the cele- MtisTc Recbitrd. We have received the following
brated importers, have furnished us, through the kind- music from Horace Waters, of New York, and D. Ditson,
ness of A. D. Letson, Esq., four subjects for this number. of Boston:
\'o other magazine can have these subjects, and they are The O. F. March.
the latest styles. Brome, who stands at the head of his The Evacuation. A conic soBg.
The Blind Girl's Lantotic. A ballad.
busine-is, with whom no one attempts to compete, coii-
Chii^t will care for .Mother now, in answer to "Who
linues to furnish for the Book one of his latest patterns will care for M-tht^r now ?"
monthly. Laurence's Popular 8ougs and Dnet*i: Meet me. Dear-
est Gh'wing Stars of Geude Kveuing; The Ro.e of
;

Clifton Dale The Sunuy-Side, set for piano, by Bellak

;

Club Rates with othpr Maoazixes. Godey's Lady's When this Dreadful Witr i'i Ended; ^weet Evelina.
;

Book and Harper's Magazine, one year, iiO, Godey's
Lady's Book and Arthur's Magazine, one year, $:!
Godey's Lady's Book. Harper's Magazine, and Arthur's
Magazine, one year, 96. No cheaper clnb than this
can be offered. Godey's Lady's Book and Holloway's
Masical Monthly, one year. $j. Fur Canada terms, see
fiover.
Read " What a Jeal^ns Man saw on Christmas Eve,"
by HarioQ Harland. Miss Frost, Miss Towosond, and
W. B. Pabor also contribute to this number.
A Memoir of the late Mrs. Alice B Haven, promised
in our last for this number, we have been obliged, owing
to the crowded st.^te of our columns, and the lateness of
the receipt of the MS. to postpone to the Jannary number.
A sketch of the life of this truly good
and there appear.
Vol. lsv;i. 47
^ Variations, Bi iDiants. Chants, composed by Miszner.
The Bonnie Old Flag, from Father Keed's collection.
.')0.
The Voice of the Heart. By O. Coraetant.
Flirtation. Compo.sed by ti. Tucker,
Dear One, I think of Thee. Music by S. Laurence.
A Nkw Zealavd Chief had taken up his residence
upon a piece of land, his right to which ws.s contested.
"I have an nndeniable title to the property," he ol>-
served, "as I ate the preceding owner."
How TO Color the Photograph.- Messrs. J. K. Tit.-
T05 & Co., Boston, have just pnblished a little manual
on the art of painting the photograph, which is for aala
at the bookstores, or will be sent by them, post-paid,
for 10 cents.
woman will then The Skating ^rame in this number is an ornamental
and n^efnl article.


590 godey's lady's book and magazine.

JUVENILE DEPARTMENT. She gave tbera some broth

Without any bread,
She whipped them all soundly
And sent them to bed."
MOTHER GOOSE TABLEAUX.
Some little ingenuity is here required to make the
These tableaux are inteutlpd for the amusement of very shoe, but let the manager keep up a brave heart, and
little folks, who must act both asperformeisandguessera make the boys useful. Firi-t have a frame work made
in the audience. For the holidays, either in the after- of wood in the shape of a shoe, standing up on end, the
opening and instep toward audience. Cover this with
Qoon or eveainj,', they will be found very amusing even black cambric, and make an immense white paper
for the older folks, who will doff their seniority for a buckle. Between the sole and upper, thrust the heads
time. One of our most scientific physicians was at such of all the "crying babies" in the house, as it is too ele-
vated a position for the "live stock." The old woman, a
u performance some eveaiugs ago, aud owing to his girl about fourteen, must wear a white cap, a pair of
well-known learning and di^^nified manner was con- spectacles, a petticoat of red stuff, with the skirt of her
chintz dress looped up over it, a white shawl pinned
demned to sit in an upper room with yome of the elder
over her shouldeis, and heeled shoes. In her h^ud she
members of the family. After fidgettiug for soma time, has a large bunch of rods. She stands centre of stage,
and evidently listeuing to the t'leeful laughter below iu front of the shoe, holding her bunch of rods over
with more interest than to hi* host's polite conversation, the head of a little boy "just caught-"' He is night-
gowoed, and capped, and barefooted, and is rubbing bis
he suddenly turned to one of the ladies present eyes with his clenched fist;-, his face "made up" for a
"Pray, madam," ho said, " how old are you?" yell. All the children wear their night-gowns ani
Seeing the fun in his eyes, she promptly replied: wmps. One, right of foreground, is seiited on the floor
with a big bowl of soup between his knees, raising a
"Six!" spoon to his lips. One behind him. is leaning over with
" Welt," he said, " I am ten. Let 's go play with tlio open mouth, as if waiting for his turn. Two are steal-
And for the remainder of the ing into the shoe to escape the whipping. In short, have
rest of the children."
on the stage all the childien you can muster, in various
evening he waa the life of the entertainment. ;ittitudes
some running away, some crying, sumo
So, you who read these article.s, put your years in your eating broth, and some hiding and peeping out behind
the mammoth shoe.
pocket, and remember they are written for "you and the
" TABLEAU
rest of the children. IV.

No scenery will be required, no curtain but the fold- "To market, market,
to

ing-doors, no properties that your housekeeping appara-

To buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again,
tus will not.'-upply, no wardrobe bui, the nursery bureau, iliiiket is done."
and no orchestra but the laugh and applause of your
Here ft very pretty market scene can be made. Have
little folks. fiveempty tables for stalls, two on each side of the room,
one centre of background. In front of these put bushel
TABLEAU I. baskets, empty tubs, and trays all empty. 'I'o the left of
foreground, have a procession of the market people
"Humpity, durapity, my mammy's maid, going home; one little girl in the high cap, stuff gowu
She stole oran^rs 1 am hl'raid ; aud white apron of the Dutch huckster; a little boy
Some in her pocket, soiue in her sleeve. with a big butcher's apron a little girl in a straw hat
;
She stole oranges, I do believe !' and striped dress for a flower-yirl, a little boy in a
The stage is arranged as a dining-room. ITpon the
countiyman's dress as many children, in short, as can
;

thble (ceutre of Rta?e) are the remains of the dessert,

be dressed up for hucksters, butchers, buttermen, pie and
half-eaten pies, saucers, tumblers, bottles, and plates,
cake men. They are all leaving the empty stalls.
and, near the edge of the table toward audience, a larj^e Right of foregrouud, profile to audience, as if just enter-
dish of or,nges. " My mammy's maid" stands between ing the market, is a very little boy, with straw hat,
blouse, and short trowseis. In oue hand be holds a
the table and the audience, profile to each. The little
girl who takes this part must wear a chintz dreg's with
penny. On the other arm is an enormous basket. Ho
ftiil sleeve-^, fasteniug iit the wii-ts, a large apron with
sings gleefully the first two lines of the verse. In deep
pockets, a white cap and kerchief. The apron pockets tones, the market people, turning suddenly round to
face him, sing the second, and then wheel into their first
are full of oranges, and she is stuffing two into her
sleeve. Just entering the door is a little boy, who positions. The little boy's face changes to a look of
points triumphantly to the maid (he mu~t be behind
dismay, and all stand motionless again until the cur-
her). He looks very mischievous, and appears to be ad- tain falls. The moving tableaux require rather expeit
vancing on tip-toe to catch her. If the audience do not performers to give the peculiar automaton jerks, like
guess the rhyme, ^t the little boy sing it before the cur- jumping Jacks moved by a string, but they can be made
tala falls.
veiy fuuny. In this scene let every one of the market
people raise the right arm, and drop it at the end <if the
TABLEAU n. verse. Raise it at "home," turning to face the child,
drop it at "done," turning from him.
" Little Jack Horner
Sat in a coiner, TABLEAU V.
Eating a Christmas pie. *'
Ride a cock horse to Banbuvy Cross,
He put in his thumb. To see an old woman ride on a horse ;
And pullfd out a plum. With rings on her fingeis and bells on her toes,
And said, '
wliat a good boy am I !'
"
She shall have music wherever she goes."
The stage is arranged as a family sitting-room. lu In thecentre of background stands a large white.paste-
the centre is a table. One little girl, with spectacles boaid cros^, with Banbury upon it in large black letters.
;tnd cap, is the nurse, sitting at the table sewing. The About the ceutre of the stage, a little to tlie left, stands
baby lies asleep in a cradle. In the right hand corner of the rocking horse. Upon this is seated the old woman,
foreground, facing audience, his feet stretclied farajjart, who wears a high pointed black hat, with a white cap
.luck Horner is seated on the floor, with tlie pie between under it, spectacles, heeled and buckled shoes, a short
his knees. He wears short sucks, and short trousers, gown of chintz, and petticoat of red stuff. Her right
a blouse and large collar. One hand holds up thecrust hand falls down showing the number of rings, and from
of the pie, while the other holds over Iiis head a large the toes of her shoes hi^ng small brass bells. Between
raisin. A very small boy, with a very large pie, has the her and the cross, and between her and audience, are a
best effect. number of children, astride of sticks or stick horses,
with whips in their hands, who stand perfectly still,
TABLEAU iir. staring at the old woman.
" There was an old woman In our January number we will resume these Tab-
Who lived in a shoe ;
They will be found a very interesting paetime for
She had BO many children leau.
She didn't kuow what to do ;
the Christmas holidays.
 GODEY S ARM-CHAIR, 591

SOME HI^'TS. Mrs. S. E R. Sent embroidery cotton 9th.

E. E. S. Sent hair ring Pth.

Is remlttiag, try to procure a draft, aod don't fail to
F. J. M. Sent pattern liding-jacket 9th.
Indorse It.
Mrs. G. M. II. Sent hood pattern 9th.
Address L. A. Godey, Philadelphia, Pa. That is suffi-
Mis. C. M. U. Sent patteru Zouave jacket 0th.
cient. Miss M. C
Sent dress shields 17th.
If a lady is the writer, always prefix Mrs. or Miss to
Miss F. B. Sent patteru Zouave jacket 9th.
her sigDatare, that we may know how to address a Mrs. T. W Sent pattern 17th.
reply. Mrs. C. L. C Sent pattern 17th.
Town, County, and State, always in your letter. Lt. J. A. W. Seat hair chain 17th.
If you miss a numher of any magazine, always write
M. S. P. Note paper may be effectually scented by
to the puhlishers of the magazine. If Ai-thur^s, address keeping in your desk among the paper a .sachet of the
T. S. Arthur & Co., Philadelphia; if Harpa'''H, address scent preferred musk, violet, etc. If the paper be not
Messrs. Harper & Brothers, New York. too dry. it will readily take the scent, and retain it for
When a number of the Lady's Book is not received, a long time.
write at once fur it ; don't wait until the end of the E. R. E
Ilalr nets, as de'-cribed by our Fashion edi-
year. tor, have not yet made their appearance in this country
When inclosing money, do not trust to the sealing for sale. One was shown her by a lady who brought it
matter on an envelope, but use a wafer in addition. from London.
Mrs. Hale is not the Fashion Editress. Address ''Fash- An Old Canada Subscriber. The new and we think
ion Editress, care L. A. Godey, I'hiladelphia." best hair ciimper costs $1 50; postage, ten cents half
When you send money for any other publication, we ounce. Patterns for mats, 2j ceuts a piece.
pay it over to the publisher, and there our responsibility
ceases.
We can always supply back numbers.
Subscriptions may commence with any number of the Jfasljioits.
year.
The postage on the Lady's Book is 24 cents a year,
payable yearly, semi-yearly, or quarterly in advance,
NOTICE TO LADY SUBSCRIBERS.
where it is received.
at the office Haviko had frequent applications for the purchase of

Let the names of the subscribers and your own signa- jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, the

ture be written so that they can be easily made out. Editress o/ the Fafthion Department will hereafter execute
commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of
a small percentage for the time and research required.
PHILADELPHIA AGENCY. Spring and autumn bonnets, materials for dresses, jewelry,
No order attended to unless the cash accompanies it. envelops, hair-work, worsteds, children's wardrobes, man-
All persons requiring answers by mail must send a tillas, and mantelets, will be chosen with a view to econo-
post-office stamp ; and for all articles that are to be sent my, as well as taste; and boxes or packages forwarded
by mail, stamps must be sent to pay return postage. by expre.ss to any part of the country. For the last,
Be particular, when writing, to mention the town, distinct directions must be given.
county, and State you reside in. Nothing can be made Orders, accompanied by checks /or the proposed expen-
out of post-marks. dUure, to be addressed to Vie care of L. A. Godey, Esq.
A. M. S.
Sent pattern and needles September 19th. No order %oUl be attended to unless the money is first
Mrs. E. D. S. Sent pattern lOth. receiwd. Neither tfie Editor nor Publisher will he account-
Mias J. D. Sent patterns Ifith. able/or I<)sses that vmy occur in reTnitting.
Mrs. A. P. H. Sent pattern 21st. The Publisher of the Lady'js Book has no interest in
Mrs. J.B. Sent muslin inserting 23d. this department, and knows nothing of the transactions ;

J. B. B. Sent diameud ring 23d. and whether the person sending the order is oris not a
Mrs. M. J. H. Sent pattern 24th subscriber to the Lady's Book, the Fashion editor does
Mrs. A. Sent pattern S4th.
S. J. not know.
Mra. W. D. W. Sent pattern 24th. Instructions to be as minute as accompanied is possible,
J. A. P. Sent pattern 24th. by a note and geueral style of
of the height, complexion,
J. B. McL. Sent pattern 26th. the person, on which much depends in choice. Dre'^s
H. W. U. Sent cloak by express 26th. goods from Evans i Co.'s mourning goods from Besson
;

Mrs. Lt. L. S^nt hair ear-rings by express 26th. k Son dry goods of any kind from Messrs. A. T. Stewart
;

Mrs. M. B. Sent orne ball 30th. k Co., New York; cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from

Mrs. A. S. A. Sent pattern Declaration of Indepen- Brodie's, 51 Canal Street, New York bonnets from the ;

dence by express 30th. most celebrated establishments jewelry from Wriggens ;

Mrs. J. K. Sent pattern 30th.

k Warden, or Caldwell's, Philadelphia.
J. C. L. Sent hair pin October 2d,
When goods are ordered, the fashions that prevail here
R. T., Jr. Sent hair studs and ring by express 2d.
govern the purcha.<e; therefore, no articles will be taken
Mrs. L. L. K. Sent puttern 2d.
back. When the goods are sent, the transaction must be
Mrs. E. S C Scut pattern 2d. considered final.
Miss H. C Sent pattern 6lh.
Mrs. J- E- C. Seat wardrobe by express 6th.
A. A. A. Sent wardrobe by express 6th, DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION-PLATE FOR
8. B. Sent pattern 7th.
K. DECEMBER.
W. G. R. Sent hair ring and pin 9th. Pig. 1. Imperial bine poplin dress, trimmed with
Miss J. D. Sent dress and sleeve pattern 9th. black velvet, run in acd out to form checkers. Cloak
592 GODEY S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

f black velvet gored, and trimmed with lace and rich With the white wool cast on 263 stitches, with two
gimp. The bonnet is of while uncut velvet, trimmed pins.
with rnchiugs of white silk, falling over the front in \st and '2d rows. All plain knitting, always slipping
the Marie Stuart style. the 1st stitch.
JiV^. 2. Dress of brown
silk, trimmed with applica- 3rf. Slip the 1st stitch, knit 31 stitches plain, knit 3
tions of black velvet. The cortage is mj.de with a square stitches all together, knit 95 plain, knit three stitches
jockey at the back, and two points in front. The skirt together again, knit DO plain, knit 3 together, knit 32
is trimmed the same as the corsage. plain.
Fiy. 3. Child's dress of ciiir-colored poplin, trimmed 4/t. All plain knitting, slipping the 1st stitch.
with two fluted ruffles, with a small Grecian pattern in 5<A. Slip 1, knit 30 plain, knit 3 together, knit Q?,

biuck velvet between them. The corsage is bquare, plain, knit 3 together, this is the centre of the row ;

with short sleeves trimmed to match the skirt, aud worn knit 93 plain, knit 3 together, knit 31 plain.
over a white muslin guimpe. Black felt hat, trimmed Wi. Plain, slipi)ing the 1st stitch.
with a white pompon and feather. Repeat the last 2 rows G times more, knitting one plain
Fig. 4. Bride's dress of a striped woir6. The corsage stitch less at the beginning aud eud of each row, and 2
IB gored into a very long tuuic skirt, aud trimmed with stitches less on each side of the centre ; the 3 stitcbeb
uppli'ixU lace headed by chenille cot ds aud tassels. The knitted together should always be worked over those of
hair is arranged iu a waterfall. The coronet is of white the preceding row.
daisies, aud the veil of thulle. 19//*. With the disengaged pin take off the first 2-i

Fig. 5. Pearl-colored trimmed with crim-

silk dres.s, stitcbos without knitting them, tie the scarlet wool into
Bou velvet, which forms a long aud wide sash at the the last stitch, aud with it aud the pin which has 24
back. The skirt is trimmed with bands of velvet to stitchetf, knit 3 together, then 79 plain, knit 3 together,
match the corsage. knit 79 plain, knit 3 together ; turn back, leaving 24
Fig. 6.
Dress of very rich mauve silk, trimmed with stitches on the other pin. The stitches left are for the
deep white chenille fringe, arranged in the shell style, Side Borders.
and headed by chenille bows. The corsage is plain, 20/ft.^Knit all the scarlet stitches plain, except the
aud trimmed with a bertha of white chenille. The coif- last two, then knit them and the next white stitch
fure is composed of mauve velvet and a white plume. together; turn back.
21a(. Knit 78 plain, knit 3 together in the centre as
before, knit the rest of the scarlet stitches pbiin, except
ROBE DRESSES, the last two, then knit them and the next white stitch
FaOM THE ESTABUSHMFNT OF A. T. STEWART i CO., together; turnback.
MEW YORK. 22'/. Knit all the scarlet stitches plain, except the
Fig. 1. The dress is of a new material called Cre- last two, then knit them and the next white stitch
tonne. The ground is of a biilliaut Magenta, aud the together; turnback.
sash-like stripes of a delicate Tonrterelle, or turtle-dove 23<i. Knit 7(j plain, knit 3 together, knit the rest,
color. They are printed in black to imitate braiding, except the last two, then knit them and the next white
and the effect is charming. together turn back.
;

Fig. 2. Another The material is Cre-

style of robe. Repeat the last 2 rows 21 times more, knittiog 2
tonne, of a delicate mauve shade. The trimming both stitches less each time at the beginning and end of the
on the skirt and body is priuted in a deep shado of par- rows. When these rows are worked all the white
pie, edged with a graceful braiding pattern in black. stitches will be used.
The same style of robes is to be had in all thenew 66//i. Slip the Ist stitch, knit the rest plain to the last
colors. We merely describe the colored grounds we 3 stitches, then knit ihem together.
have received. 67A/i. Slip 1, knit 30 plain, knit 3 together in the cen-
Fig. 3. A cashmere robe de chambre. The skirt of tre as usual, knit the rest plain to the last 3 stitches,
the dress is a white ground, with a bordering of the then knit them together.
richest color. The loo^e jacket is of mauve cashmere, Repeat the last 2 rows 3 times more, knitting ."

trimmed with bordering, as represented In the plate. stitches less at the beginniug aud end of the rows each
Fig. 4.
Dress of light walnut-colored Cretonne. Ttie time.
bordering on the very edge of the skirt is of black, above l-Uh. Slip the first stitch, knit the rest plain, knitting
it is a design in deep Mageuta, and the braiding pattern the last 2 together.
is in black. The same style of robe is to be had in Work 26 rows more as the last.
various colors. ]OlAr^ Knit every 2 stitches together.
102';. Plain.

SPANISH OPERA HOOD. 10.3'i. Knit every 2 stitches together.

104f/i,Plain. Draw the lemaining stitches together
AS WORN BY THE EMPRESS OF THE FRENCH.
to fasten off.
(See plate printed in colors in front.)
THE LINING.
^Taterinls.
2 ounces of white and 1'^; ounces of Scarlet
Andalusian Wool, a pair of Kniiting' Pitis No. .^, and This is worked exactly the same as the part alrea-'y
one or two pairs of Chenille Tassels. For the Feather made, with the exception that the white wool is us*-'il
Border, one ounce of While Andalusian Woo! and a pair
Iliriiughout. If it is worked .separately, it must be com-
of Knitting Pins No. liS the pins should be measured in
;

menced by casting on the 263 stitches but the neatest ;

the circle of the Bell Gauge.

THE WHITE BORDER.
The whole of the hood is made in plain knitting,
which should be worked loosely and lightly liio piiii-
tipal part ofit being double. It is commenced
border which runs round the shoulders.
way is to raise all the stitches which were first cast on.
as this avoids sewing the two parts together To rai-<*
the stitches commence at the 1st row of the work, put
the pin into the 1st stitch cast on, keep the wool at thu
: back, and with the pi'int of the pin, bring the wool
a.t the through in a loop, which raises 1 loop; put the pin
into the next stitch, bring the wool through, and Con-
 FASHIONS. 593

itnue the Bame UQtil there arc 2(^1 loops un tlio ptn, then Bides ; aud in the last mentioned shape the brim la but
commeuciug at iLe 1st row, lopcjit the wholo of the dl- slightly rolled. They aio made of gray, cuir, and black
rectiuu, u.siuj,' while woul. Wht-u liuished, ihoBelvt-Uyej.
of the two pieces nhould be sewed together acrobs the felt aud beaver. The trimming is generally arranged in
I'roiit. frout rn tvantait or fan-shaped ; aud at the sides either
a bird or feathers. is a ribboa bow
At the back there
TRR SBCONll BORnr:K.
With the while wool ca^t ou 121 HtUches, loosely aa
with long euds, trimmed with a fiuting of velvet of a
bi'fore. C'jutrasting color; also fieiiueutly a leather oriiameui,
\jtt tnui a/ rojc.-?. Plaiu kulttinj. so delicate that it tesamblL-s ii hilk embroidery. Wheu
W. Slip 1, knit .^S plain, kuit 3 together, knit 57 leather is used ou the ribbous, it is generally mixed witli
plain, knit the last 2 btitchcK to^'cther. the trimming of the hat. For instance, a spray of beau-
4/A. Slip the iPt stitch, kuit the rest plain to the lant tiful ivy leaves, stamped out of leather, with a few duli-
2, then knit them together. calo teudiils twining among the leaves.
3/A. Slip 1, knit 56, kuit 3 ty(fether, knit 5J, knit 2 White fults fur infants and small children are in grent
together. variety, aomo trimmed with pure white, others in colors.
tith. The same as the 4th vow. AH the models are of very becoming aud graceful
7^A. Slip l.kuit 5-i, kuit 3 together, kuit 53, knit 2 shapes, but differ chielly in the style of trimming. Scai-
tOKOther. and black feathers are decidedly iu favor.
let
dth. As the 4th row. We weie sbuwu some very stylish riding hata tliey, ;

9/A. Slip 1, knit J2, knit 3 together, knit 51, kuit 2 however, resembled the children's hats iu shape, but
together. were entirely of black.
loth. As the 4th row. For little boys we noticed a low hat with straight
Join on the scarlet wool, and ropeat the last 2 rows IG rim, the latter made of cord.-d silk and the rest of the
times more, knitting 2 stitches Ics't each time, in all, 32 hat of beaver. The trimuiiug consisted of a velvet band
Kcarlet rows. with short ends on the right side, with leather orD&-
Kuit 20 lows plain, slipping tht' lat stilth and knit- ineuts tipping them. Another was a regular Glengary
ting the last 2 together every row. cap of felt, trimmed with velvet.
5'M (of scarlet). Kuit every 2 stitches together. Hats are daily bpcaoiug more popular, and though
64^/1. Plain. they are generally very becoming, we think they only
5j/A. Knit every 2 stitches together, and draw the set off young faces to advantage ; except, however, for
remaiuiag stitches close together to fasten them off. tiavelling, skating, or at a watering-place. Then they
Sew the scarlet selvedge to the front of the hood, so are very suitable for children of a larger growth.
that it may fall back, as in the tMii.'raving the front is ; Among the novelties in leather we find leather nets.
then finished with the following feather border, which They are formed of narrow strips caught together iu
can, if wished, be coutinaed round the edge of the 2d diumtinds by aud trimmed with
steel, jet, or gilt beads,
white border. ruches and ribbons. Sometimes the leather is of th
FKATHER BORDFR. natural hue, at other times it is colored. Another pretty
With the white wool aud >"o. lU pins cast ou G stitches. style has bright silk cords twined in with the leather,
Ist row. Knit the 1st htiich plain, pat the piu into which in quite an improvement. Then we have fancy
the next stitch, pass the wool between the points uf the leather cnlffi, finished with silk and leather ruching,
pins from the front to the back, round the tops of the 1st suitable and pretty for travelling or street wear.
and 2d fingers to the front, pass the wool between the The little bows composed of silk and leather are also
pins again, and round the fingers to the front as before very stylish, and are in great variety of shape and color.
;

pass the wool between the pins again, which will nisike
three turns of wool upon the right hand pin, two turns
or loops of which are round the fingers bring the three
tttrns of wool through the stitch, and take it off the left
pin to finish the stitch ; take the fingers out of
They are generally mounted on pins, so as to make them
exceedingly conveuient. Another novelty is the avmv
;
nilr*, a fancy leather pouch or bag, worn at the side,
and merely large enough to contain a purse or handker-
ttie loops chief. It rosembles the bag on page 298 of the March

aud work the remaining 4 ^titches the same. number.

2/. Knit the three turns of wool together as one It has been asserted by some that crinoline is to be
stitch ; repeat, knitting the la^t stitch plain. abandoned, and we see some hoopless Individuals per-
Repeat these 2 rows until sufficient length is made, and ambulating our streets; aud qneer oddities they are I

cast off. The loops of wool should be about three- Theircxample is not, however, to be followed at present,
quarters of an inch in length and if thpy appear too
;
for we have the very best authority for stating that
long, the wool need only be passed round one finger. It criuoUne Is still worn iu Paris, and likely to be for acme
is then to be sewed to the hood.
time to come. Indeed, it is positively needed to sustain
the ample dress skirts of the present day. The shape,
CHITCHAT UPON NEW YORK AND PHILADEL- as we have stated before, is decidedly smaller, and pet-
PHIA FASHIONS FOR DECEMBER. ticoats are being gored so as to have but little fulness
Wb have the vanity to think that foud mammas are about the hips.
anxiously awaiting the fulfilment of our prumisf, made Another visit to the Malson Tilman, of 148 East 9tb
when we to.jk leave of them last month, aud we hasten Street, NewYork, gives us later advices from the Pari-
to satisfy the expectations we have rais-fd. sian fashionable world. We find, as we stated la^t
Genin's hats, which are always stamped with aristo- month, that the Marie Stuart shape is far from being the
oratic elf^gauce, are this season in great variety of style. uuiver.'sal one. Among the new Importations we found
The principal shapes are the Ridall, the Spanish, and the a few of that style, though even these were not carried
Spani.-h Ridall. The first has a high sloping crown, the to excess. The majority of the bonnets were of other
brim drooping, both back and front, but not rolled. The shapes, shallow at the ears and rather high, though oot
tecond shape has the brim considerably rolled at the approaching iu height those of last season. All had
 594 GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

inside caps, and were fully trimmed, tboogh by no means flowers. Some of the pendants had anchors attached,
overloaded. and the whole was original and stylish. With these
The toque crown, a flat, soft crown, though not hang- headdresses, the velvet combs to match t^hould he worn.
ing, isone of the prettiest styles. Feathers are but little These are another pretty novelty for the winter.
used, though some few bonnets had the light, airy mara- We were shown a variety of velvet headdresses, stud-
bout trimraiug. Velvet flowers seem to predominate for ded with jewelled stars, flowers, bugs, crescents, and
the heavy bounets, and we may sity the naicissus is exquisite butterflies. These jewelled ornaments are very
the favorite flower, as we saw with its lovely goldeu
it, effective, aud will be in great demand this winter.
centre, in almost every shade and color, mounted with The good taste of the Parisian modiste in everything
black velvet stalks and leaves, and tied in small bunches. relating to head gear an undisputed fact, and in
is this
Besides these, however, were every variety of forest graceful art Mme. Tilman has no rival, certainly on this
leaf in velvet, also roses and other flowers. side of the water.
We charming bonoet of black velvet with a
noticed a We have just seen quite a number of new jackets at
toque croWD, having on it a Maltese cross of black lace. the establishment of ilme. Demorest. Que was made
On top of the crown was an exquisite bunch of greon with a square tail at the back, much resembling a gen-
frosted leaves, and round the crown were twisted lovely tleman's coat. The front was made with revers, and
scarlet calla lilies with scarlet stems. This bonnet, the jacket sloped suddenly from where the revere met
though qniet, was exceedingly stylish.
in front to the square jockey tail at the back. Under
Another bonnet, VEspaffnoI, so called from the velvet this was an extrafront resembling a vest, and buttoning
being puffed up and caught with a large jet clasp, which up to the throat, made quite long in front aud with two
gave it the appearance of a Spanish comb. The mate- square ends. The sleeves were like a gentleman's coat
rials were a maize, or rather a light golden cuir velvet, sleeve on the outside, and inside they were perfectly
and black lace. straight aud made with a
cuff. The whole was trimmed
English bonnets presented quite a fairy-like appear- with bands of velvet and buttons. Another style is a
ance. They were generally o( cri'pe trimmed with point corsage cut even with the hips, and pointed at the back.
lace and light flowers, on which and thi-ough which Under this point at the back are two short sash ends,
were bugs inuumerable. and the fronts are cut in sash-like ends a quarter of a
Another very pretty and quiet lookin;? bonnet was an yard long. The whole is trimmed with a narrow fluted
ashes of roses felt, a real French felt, trimmed with vel- ruffle, which is even carri<d round the hips. The sleeves
vet and feathers to match. Inside were a few autumu are rather loose and almost straight.
leaves and a rose bedded in black and white lace. The Marquise, a riding jacket of the Louis XV. style,
The shapes of the bonuets seemed to us more graf^eful is made with a basque three fingers long all round. The

than ever, aud the shades of tlie velvets particularly fronts of the skirt or basque are turned back like reveis,
lovely. Fasliion exists, however, but in change, and aud faced with silk the same as those on the upper part
we always think the last productions the best. The of the waist. Two box plaits are laid at the back and
styles of the bonnets ai*e so varied and peculiar that it is are trimmed to resemble pockets. On the shoulders are
out of the question to describe many of them so as to be knots of cords and tassels. Another style of jacket in
onderstood. cut with an ivy leaf tail at the hack, and three long tur-
"We also saw a number of children's hats. One, of the ret-like tails in front. The sleeves are one-quarter of a
Buridon style, was of black velvet, the brim turned up yard wide at the wrist, and trimmed with a gauntlet cuff.
on the right side and lined with scarlet velvet; on the There are various other styles, all gotten up in exqui-
other side were scarlet feathers. This was very stylish. site taste, both in respect to trimming and shape. It is,

An infant's hat was of white felt bound with white, and
trimmed with a short ostrich plume, caught in with
three of the tiniest of marabouts. On these
terflyformed of colored feathers, but so delicate and so
however, impossible to do them justice by description.
They ought to be seen to be understood. Madame De-
was a but- morest, whose inventive genius never flags, has brough t
out a great variety of new sleeves most of them very
;

lightly poised that it seemed as if the least breath would simple, but effective and stylish.
blow it away. There were many other styles, made of Id robes de chambre the most stylish from the houfje
velvets of difi'erent colors, trimmed with feathers to of Mme. D. was made of a lilac poplin, open for the space
match or form a good contrast.
to of a quarter of a yard at each breadth, turned over like
Coquettish, tasteful cups for middle-aged ladies, or for revers and faced with lilac silk. It was trimmed with
demi-toilette abounded. Some were of the Corday shape, a silk ruching which resembled china asters.
with coronet fronts, others had long ?jridt'.^ or lappets, A very elegant evening dress from the same establish-
and others were formed of thulle scarfs, entwined toge- ment was of white silk, embroidered in turquoi.se blu*
ther in front, and falling over the neck at the back. in the pyramidal style on each breadth. Round the
The ball coiff'ures were veritable Parisian inspirations. bottom of the skirt was a band of turquoise blue silk,
One, La Gloire, was of olive leaves meeting ia a high covered with a black lace insertion, and edged with a
point in front, with wide gold braid twined through it quilling of blue ribbon. The front was made en tabliei',

with unstudied grace. with alternate rows of black lace insertion over blue
Most of the wreaths were of the coronet style, with silk and bands of embroidery. The corsage was high,
long trains or sprays, three-quarters of a yard long, on and trimmed with bretelles and straps, both back and
each side. These could be left to hang or caught up in front.
the hair. Bi"idal coifl'ures were Another
of this style. We have seen some very elegant new silks at Stewart's,
pretty wreath was a coronet of strawberries with foliage, but we shall be obliged to reserve tbem until next month.
branches of wood twisted at the side, aud a bunch of We cannot help, however, giving our renders, as a part-
berries at the back. ing word, the names of the most fashionable colore.
A most charming aud novel style of headdress was They are lugwood, rosewood, Spanish ca/e, and Russian
formed of linked chainB of scarlet velvet, caught in with gray. Fashion.
 Arthurs Home Magazine for 1864.

EDITED BY T. S. ARTHUR AND VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.

The HOME MAGAZIX& for 1864 will be condncted In the Faraespirit that handistin^aisbed U from the coininc<nr>-
meot ; aod contioue tu unite inone periodical the attractions and excoUencies of both tho Ladies', or Faehion Mbj^H-
tiaes as the^ are called, and the graver Itterarj monthlies.
Our arranyemen(s for 18tJ4 include

THREE ORIGINAL SERIAL STORIES,

written ozpreaslj for the Uome Magazine. One of these will be by

MISS VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.

aad commence in the January namber. Another will l>e Vy
T. S. ABTHUH.
Aad the third from the pen of
MRS. M. A. DENISON,
A writer who had long been a favorite with ihe pablic. liesides these

OUR LARGE CORPS OF TALENTED WRITERS

will eontinne to enrich the Home Majjazine with shorter sturies, poems, essays, and sketches of life and character,
written with the aim of blending literary excelloace with the higher teachings of morality and religion.

Social Literature, irt, Morals, Heailh, Domestic Happiness.

^
To these the Home Magazine has been aod will continue to be devoted.

<gl((jant ^ngraviniisi
appear in ev^ry number, tnclnding choice pictures, groaps and character*^, prevailing faahiona, and a large variety
nf paUerns for garments, embroidery, etc. etc. In all respects we give

A FIRST CLASS MAOAZINE,

and at a price that brings it within the reach of every intelligent family in the land.

PREMIUMS FOR GETTING UP CLUBS.

Our Premium Plates for 1804 are large Photographs of

"EVANGELINE," and "TEE MITHEELESS BAIRN,"

two charming and popnlar pictoree. These photographs are on albunienized paper, exquisitely copied, and superior
to any heretofore sent by us. No picture ever publiohed has been a popular as " Evangeline," and the demand for
it at the print sellers* is still very large. The splendid English print entitled "The Mitherless Bairn," bells for $26.
Our copies give all the detail, and alt the fine effects perfectly.
49" One of theue prints goes to every gctter-up of a club, large or small.

YEARLY TERMS, IN ADVANCE.

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3 **
(and one of the premium plateR to yetter-np of Clnb), ^ 00
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M^ It will be seen that each itingle subscriber who pavs $2. is entitled to one of the premium plate*.
4ar* In ordering premiums, three red stamp*, must be sent, in ev*>ry case, to pay thccost of maUing each prcmlnm.
JtS* It is not required that al! Ihe subscribers to a club be at the same Post Office.
4S* Canada subacribers must add 18 cents on each 6ub<*cription for piepayment of United States postage.

CLUBBING,
Home Magazine and Godey's Lady's Book, one year $3 50.
Home Magazine and H?.rper's Maeazine. one year. $4 (K).
Hume Magazine and Saturday Evening Post, $3 00.
AddrcBfl T. S. AETHTJE & CO., 323 Walnut Street Philadelphia.


DECEMBER, 1863.
THE DAILY GOVERNESS. A splendid lineengraving. BR.MDING PATTERNS. Four engravings.
gHRISTM.\S. A superb tableau plate, contamintj five GKNTLE.MANS DKIVINO GLOVE.S.
distinct pictures, CROCHET PELERINE.
GODEY'S FASHIONS FOR DECEMBER. Containing INITIAL LETTERS FOR BRAIDING.
seven figures, among which are Dresses for a Bride and FANCY PEN-WIPEK.
Bridesmaids. T'llLET MAT IN CROCHET.
ROBE DRESSES. From the Establishment of A. T. Stew- INSERTION FOR SKIRTS.
art k Co., New Yorls. FANCY SPENCER.
A FALSE ALAR.VI. A humorous engravine. SHilRT NIGHT-DRESS.
S.PAN1SU iiPEKA HOOD. Printed in colors. NOVELTIES FOR DECEMBER. Sacqne, Dinner dressei,
bAFBri' SKAn.XG FRAME. A useful and handsome en- Waist, etc. Five engravings.
graving. MUFFATEE.
EMBRiiJDERY PATTERNS. Seven engravings. FANCY PATTERN FOR PERFORATED CARD-BOARD.
DRESS FOR A MIS.S. CARRIAGE BOOT.
DRESS FOR A LITTLE GIRL OF TEN YEARS. A WARM OVER-SHOE IN CROCHET.
THE POLISH JACKET. Two engravings. ORIGINAL DESIGNS. Furnished expressly for Godev's
THE CALl'E. From Brodie. Lady's Bonk, by W. Cameron, No. 22S North Eighth
THE PSYCHE BL'TfERFLY FOR HEADDRESSES. Five Street, Philadelptiia. Three engravings.
engravings. EMBROIDERY FOR CORNER OF A HANDKERCHIEF.
INSERTION. EMBROIUEUY FOR FRONT OF A SLIPPER.
COIFFURE HORTENSE. EHBROIOERY Fl)R THE SIDE OF SLIPPER.
NAME FOR MARKING. FANCY BOW FOR A CHILD'S HAT.
KNITTED GAUNTLET, WITH PLDSH CUFF. ALPHABET OF FANCY LETTERS, FOR JIARKING.
Ooixtri'ka'vi.tor's ct,xic5l Ooxi'toxits.
Safety Skating Frame (Illuetrated), .50.5 Legend upon the Invention of Lace, by Mrs. H. C.
Embroidery (lUustrtUed), fi06, 507, 511, 517, 020, fi7fi, C'tvant, 5.5.5

677, 57S *' All Alone." by Lily Lfa. 6j56

Dress for a Miss (Illustrated), 50t> The Daily Governess, l.y Miiry Pnnnn {Jllust'd), 5.5S
Dress for a little Girl of Ten Years {Itlnslrated), 507 Why Don't He Come? by diliuiriue Mitchell, 680
The Polish Jacket (Illtuitr<ittd), 603 The Christmas Gift, by Mitliceiit Irwin, 661
The Calpn {Illuatralfd), from Brodie, .509 A Pensive Ode for Pensive Hearts, by Frederick
The Psyche Butterfly for Headdresses (lUaei'd), 510, 570 Wright. 665
Insertion {Iltn^tratni), 5U Skating for Ladies, by J. M. L.. 666
CoitFure Hortense {Itlnstrated), 511 My Casket of Gems, by Mrs. Wolverton, 668
Name for Marking (llhustrnted), 512 Novelties for December (Itlustraied), 669
Knitted Gauntlet \lUiwtrated), nl2, 672 Mulfatee (IlhuHtrnieii), 671
Braiding Pa'terns {Illuxtraiai). 51.1. 515, 516, 57.5,57S Fancy Pattern for Perforated Card-board {Illustrated), 672
Gentleman's Driving Gloves {Illustrated), 513, 573 Carriage Boot {Illuiitrnted). 574
Crochet Pelerine (lUustralexl), 514, 673 A Warm Over-Shoe in Crochet (Illustrated), 57.5
Initial Letters for Braiding {Illustrated), 51.5 Original Designs (Illustrated), 676,
Fancy Pen-wiper [IlUistrated), 515 Fancy Bow for a Child's Hat (Illustrnted),
Toilet Mat in Crochet {lllustrrdeil), 616 Alphabet '>f Fancy Letters {lUustraltd), 67*
Insertion for Skirts {Illustraled), 517 Receipts, &c.. 67
Fancy Spencer {nt"strtfd], 517 Editors' Table, containing
Music Estapha March, by J. Starr Eolloway, 518 Christmas is Coming, 6se
Short Night-dress (Itliwtrated). 520 Literary Women during the Year lSfi3, 5S-2
What a Jealous Man saw on Christmas Eve, by Ma- Deaconess' Institutions and Protestant Sisterhoods, 58.'!

rion HarUtnd, 521 Memory's Song, by Clio Stanley, 583

The Seasons of the Heart, by Furlxuih Ftiat, 534 Mistakes in Language, 5a'?
Brother Richard, by Gritce Gardner, 635 Mrs. Mason, and Woman's Mission to Woman 584
The Future, 640 Health Department, 6S4
The Broken Lyre, by Sara, 540 Literary Notices, 6,<0
Meta. A Christmas Story, bv S. Annie Frost, 641 Godey's Arm-Chair, 586
The Casket of the Year, by Willie E. Pahor, 847 Juvenile Department,
Margaret Darling, by Virginia F. Tmonsend, 543 Fashions,

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&d6
J
I
T
 'V-

^^
k!

i,,*> ^^

V',
 I'reiniuin Tract No. 3.

CHURCH LITERATURE.
ITS x\LM, ITS BE>;EFJTS and IT8 CIRCULATION.

ITS AIM.
CflrRCH literature has for its object, directly or indirectly, the
advancement of the interests of Christ's kingdom. Thougli ;i
human agency, it has a divine mission. All the members of the
Cluuvli, if tlicy would be must be workers
true to their calling,
together with Christ. They must not only he active and zealous
ill lielping f<irward Christ's work in their own congregation, or

within the narrow limits of their own community, but they must
be actively interested in the welfare of the Church throughout
the world. Especially must they know and foyl the wants of
that branch of the Cliureh with which they stand connected.
No member of the Church can fulfill his mission, as a servant
of Christ,who is ignorant of the Church's needs who does

J
;

not acquaint himself with her progress, her trials, and her
triumphs.
.Tust here it is Church literature ser\-es as the strong
that
handmaid (if the pulpit, and meets a want that can in no other
way be supjilied. It aims to second and support the jiastor in

all his eflbrts to buihl up the Lord's people in faith, knowledire,

piety, and devotion to the Church. It brings vividly before the

eye of the people the same truths and interests which through
the ear are impressed upon them by the voice of the preacher.
It seeks to do what the pastor cannot do, viz: visit every family
every week, and lay before its members pure food for daily

thought; information gathered from every quarter of tlie globe;

and such Christian intelligence as tends to bring the reader into
sympathy with every department of Church work. It aims to
impress upon the heart of the Christian the truth, that the work
of the Church is hu work, as well as Christ's work, and that, if
 ;

he would be faithful to his trust, he must make every interest of

the Church his own personal interest, a care equally important
with the care of his own soul.
Church literature has further for its object the guarding of the
young and the protection of home morals by putting into the
hands of families only such pure, wholesome reading as serves
to enrich the mind and make better the heart thereby affording
;

the only sure remedy against the unchaste, sensational literature

which floods the land, and which inevitably tends to poison the
minds and corrupt the morals of the young. Church literature
aims to do all that it is possible to do within its own proper
province to diffuse Christian light, to develops Christian life,

and to broaden Christian love.

ITS BENEFITS.

The benefits of Church

literature are but the realization of
the aims just stated. Experience has proved that no Church
can afford to do without the strong, helping arm of Church lit-
erature. In the degree that the Church neglects this important
agency, does she fail in fulfilling her appointed work. The rule
holds good also as applied to the Church member.
Church literature and Christian enlightenment go together
Church literature and Christian activity and benevolence also
go together. Ask a pastor who serves a congregation composed
very largely of members who do not read the Church periodicals,
as to his experience and he will tell you that his work is very
;

hard and very disheartening; that the members have no interest

in the Church apart from the narrow sphere of their own congre-
gation that the cause of Missions, Home and Foreign, awakens
;

within them no sympathy that their contributions to benevo-

;

lent interests are very meagre, and very reluctantly given that ;

there is no hope of organizing a missionary society that there ;

are manifest evidences on every hand of indifference and inac-

tivity in regard to the general interests of the Church.
Enter the home that is not visited by a Church paper, and
talk to the members of the family about mission work in Japan,
or in our home fields talk to them about our institutions of
;

learning, our Orphan Homes, and the various interests and

needs of the Church, and what is the re-wlt? You find that
 3

tlu'v know little of, anil rare little for, these tilings; that their
hearts cannot be drawn out in sympathy towards them that ;

the great work of the Church engages neither the thoughts of

their minds nor the love of their hearts. That is the negative
side of the subject. It is not drawn from the imagination it is :

very real ; too true.

Ask the pastor who serves a congregation among whose fami-
liesChurch literature is widely diffused as to his experience and :

he will tell you that his parishioners, as a nile, me wide awake

and active that they help to bear his burdens that it is a plea-
; ;

sure to bring before them the general interests of the Church,

because of the sympathetic response which they elicit that they ;

delight to hear of the progress of missions, and of the growth of

the Church's literary and charitable institutions ; that there is a
constant increase in contributions to the Lord's treasury ; that
there is joy in ministering to a people whose hearts and offerings
go out freely in love towards interests which are precious iu the
sight of God.
A pastor upon being asked who were his most active workers
and contributed most liberally to the support of Christian
objects, replied, " The working capital of my congregation is to
be found among those who read and are interested in our
Church literature."
Many there are who will unite in bearing testimony to the
truthfulness of this picture, which presents the positive side of
the benefits of Church literature.

ITS CIRCULATION.

Such being the high aim and rich benefits of Church literature,
it is hardly in place to ask the question, To what extent should
it be circulated ? Just as the Holy Bible, as a book, is an indis-
pensable aid to Christian knowledge, so is Church literature an
indispensable auxiliary to a knowledge of Christ's work in and
through His Church. The e.xclusion of Church literature from
a Christian home can find no justification, except upon the plea
of inability to read, or most extreme poverty. Every Church
member who has the means to .subscribe for a town, county, or
political paper, should blush for shame at the thought of being
unable to subscribe for a Church periodical. Surely, the
knowledge of Christ's work should be considered of far greater
importance to the Christian tliau the knowledge of market
prices, social gossip, murders, and political news. If both can-
not be had, the latter, by all means, should be sacrificed to the
former. If Christians once come to appreciate the eternal and
priceless blessings that flow to them through the Church, as
highly as they do the perishable blessings of earth, they will
soon realize the importance and necessity of informing them-
selves as to the work which is being accomplished by the
Church. If parents would but appreciate the formative and
lasting influence exerted upon the mind and character of their
children by what they read, they would not withhold from tbcm
the pure, clean, elevating literature offered to them through the
papers and books of the Church.
In view of the great evils that result from a limifcd, and in
view of the incalculable spiritual blessings that attend a tciJc,
circulation of Church, literature, every po.sible effort should be
made by all who are interested in the welfare of the Church to
Church intelligence among all tlie members.
diffuse
Let the pastors enforce from the pulpit, in the strongest and
demands of the case. Let consistories use all
clearest light, the
their influence in cooperating with the pastor in his eftbrts to

have some form of Church literature if possible in every
Christian home. Let agents of Church papers and books be
kindly encouraged and assisted in their good work by pastors
and people.
And let every Christian reader of this tract, who has con-
sciously or unconsciously neglected the duty herein presented,
ask himself the question Can I, who profess to love and serve
:

the Church of Christ, aftbrd to do without that knowledge

which can be obtained only through the literature of the
Church?

Reformed CUnrcli Publication Board, 907 Arch S., PlUIa., Pa.

$3.25 per 1000; 40 cts. per 100; 6c. per dozen, post-paid.
 ^

-^
^
 MAP OF TfHE UNITED STATES
A
N AWAY
39 BY 55 INCHES VALUED AT $2.50.
ORWARNER'S SAFE COOK BOOK 500 PAGES VALUED AT $1.50.
SEE INSTRUCTIONS INSIDE.
C0PYRI6HTE0 1887 BT H H WARNER ROCHESTCR.N V. eosACKfcco itTH.murrinjB.M v.

/
 "WaniersSjFEW"
IS SUPERIOn IN EVERT RESPECT TO
ANY OTHER IEAST EVER OFFERED
TO THE PIE Lie, FOR THE
FOLLOWIXG REASONS:
Every article used inits manufacture
WARNERIS 1st.
is Guaranteed to be Absolutely Pure.
3d. It ivlll retain ita Strengthniuch longer
than any other I'east.
Srd.Jirend made with "SAFE Yeast " uill
remain, moixt and sweet for many days.
ith. It can always be relied on to do
the work required of it.
Tlie sales of " SAFE Yeast " nearly equal
the combined sales of all other brands of
Dry Hop Yeast via nufa ctured, which fact
in itself is unmistakable proof of its ex-
cellence.
Every i>ackage contains eleven {11) Cakes
and retails for Ten (iO) Cents, or the price
of a nif inferior article called Yeast. Our
Dry Hoi) Yeast is guaranteed to be the best
Yeast made.
LADIES: Save 15 Top Covers from "War-
ner's SAFE Yeast" jtackages and send them
to us with ten (10) 2-cent Stamps, and ivc
-will mail you. a copy of our " SAFE COOK
ROOK,'' containing 500 pages of valuable
Household Recipes.
"Warner's SAFE Yeast " is for sale by all
first-class Retail Grocers, If your Grocer
has none, insist upon his getting a supply,
and take no other,

ROCHESTER, N. Y.

Hubbard House, Clatton, N. Y., MU.SCATINE. la., Aug. 17, 1887. I have
August 20, 1887.
Having thoroughly tested many
of the recipes in "Wai-ner's
tested "Warner's Safk Cook Hook,'" I Safe Cook Book," and I find them the
feel it my duty to recoimnend itas being very best I ever used. They are even
perfect, reliable and invaluable. better than they are represented.
Mrs. J. T. Hubbard. Mrs. Ida C. Vance.
Wheeling, Mo., August 14, 1887. I re- Greece, N.Y., August 16, 1887. I have
ceived "Warner's Safe Cook Book" some tried a number of recipes contained in
time ago, and can say that it sui-passes my "Warner's Safe Cook Book," and find it
expectations. I have tried several leading beyond my expectations. Most complete
cook-books, but "Warner's Safe Cook- book I ever liad. I have been using 'War- '

Book " is superior to them in each of its ner's Safe Yeast " since it was first intro-
departments. Mrs. N. E. Kidder. duced, and I shall use no other, as I can-
not make good bread without this Yeast.
Doter, Del., 1887. I have tried
Aug. 1, T. S. Davis.
many recipes contained in "Warner's
Safe Cook Book,"' and I find them to be St. Louis, Mo., August 13, 1887. I have
excellent in every respect. 1 find that the used "Warner's Safe Cook Book," and
ingredients are -well proportioned vrith a find it a very valuable book of knowledge
view to economy, wliich is in my estima- for the kitchen, and appreciate it very
tion one of the "main points of the book. much, also "Warner's Safe Yeast."
Mrs. Emma Parsons. Mrs. Adam Ruhland.
Am *e7,'88.
 I

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DISORDERS;
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AMC >-'- DISEASES CAUSED BY DIS-
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5 i ilHOEKF.D KIDNEYS AND LIVER.
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ENDORSED BY THi tiPSt PHYSICIANS. o S c
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6 2
NOT c ..UIMC O A C C. '* ON LABEL
'* LABEL! c

UNL U r OF O rV r C AND WRAPPER.

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a u c m.
M. Id Q \EE-- CORKED AND INACOOLPUACE.l IS

CO

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OS

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CO O > H..H. WARNER & CO.,
O - to <^^ I
ROCHESTER, N. v., U.S.A. 2 5.
LONDON, ENGLAND. TORONTO, CANADA.
2 5
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 C^apewell ScISnunel.-'^i

mmwi''^ E&i^Mi'())]fs I'XCDM jjMuiiaiiY iscBoi

TRAVELING or WINTER HOOD.
THK OLD SEWING MACHINE.
 LATEST FASHION.

Garnet-colored poplin dress, gored. G.irnet silk, puffed en (aWi'ernp the front of tbe dress and corsage,
and ornamented with black velvet ribbon and bows. Fancy tulle cap, trimmed with apple-green velvet.
Muslin ruff, and green velvet neck-tie.
VOL. LXVI. 13
 l#'

Kew Irish Bttllad.

WRITTEN AND COMPOSKD TOR THE PIANO-FORTE, FOR GODET'S LADT's BOOK.

BY J. STARR HOLLOW AY.

AFTHOB OF "BEAUTIFUL VALLEY,'* " THE PASSING BELL,'* " POOR BEN, THE PIPER," ETC.

Entered accordiog to Act of CongreBS, In the year 1862, by J, Starr Holloway, In the Clerk's Office of the Eastern District of rennByl'*.

Op. no. , I ^ ^ jn I

I I I

Moderato.

t)
=ts:

O
O
I
the
^^m]
know by the blnsh on year
long, lonely day weariea

1 u -id
' 1
I
H
1^ ^
1-^(
1

H-t
I I I

^e5,^i^^E^^ifcJi^H^Ea^i^=^j
cheek, dar - lintr, That yonr heart is not far a - way; O I know by yonr paze when I
bar - den when parted from

S
through, dar - ling, When your presence I vainly Im - plore ;
O the

^i?=^= s^z =^
--0 ^= -rii

'-r^w p Fed.

m'ti=m==0t TP
p
Fed. *
:
A
"f^^ 1f>[
 NORAH MAVOCRNEEN.

6pAk,
70a,
(Jar
d&r
-

ling.
Uot;,
That yoa lone not a Wi>rd
Can 70a leare me to bear 11
I y
more;
^E^
O
O
I

I
bleM
ine
1=^
^^
3?5?
70a anj ble^a
at yoor feet yonr
for
J^
70a for

all 7onr lOTe ; It Is more thaa life to me. Kv' - ry thoncht, ev' - tj
hand and heart ; All I have is 7oar8 a - lone. Will jou eend me a-

=.&
SE^
f>f>
WHb-M^^ ^-qr

::& r^rf
S: :&i :&
r ^=r^^^

gi :^ ?=i^ ^ ^^ :t2=&c
--f=mi
I2=t21
:^
care of my heart shall prove Mv de to - tloo, darling, to
way, will 70a say we mue-t part, my dar - ling. darling, my

(JM-g ^^^^^H^ r
s^
1

m ^^ itr^tz
thee
own ;
: Nunih,
Iforah,
Ma
Ma
-
-
rJerz*!
Totirni?<n
voarneen
^No rah.
No rah.
Ma
Ma
-

-
Toorneen.
Toaraeen.

E?^ J^Ei^J^E^S^^i^^r^
p^
=?2:^-
 LATEST FASHION.

Dark ereen silk dress, trimmed with applications of black velvet

finished with n*'^
^^^^^J" J/'j^'
rib.bon. 'Standing linen collar, with veauve neck-tie. Cap trimmed with different shades of vesuve
ribbons,
16
 LA MADRILENA.
(From the evublifibmeDt of C. Brodie, 51 Ciiual Street, >v-w York Drawn by L. T Voiqt, from actual
artictea of coHtume.]

We illnstrate this month which we recard as peculiarly heromiiiff, comfort-

a style of pardpssns
able, and convenient one that' from beantv lavs claim to become a lastm? favorite.
its
Ue
will render
believe that the stvle is so clearlv <lepicterl in the rtrawiii<r that no verbal explanation
it more intelligible- The cloak from which the alove view is taken is of black cloth. The orna-
mentation may vary that upon the one above was composed of brandthourgs.
;

2* 17
 ^^:-^/^',,

18
 BEAIDING PATTZKN.

THE PRINCESS CAPUCHON.

Made of wliite cashmere, braiiled witli black velvet, and trimmed with cheny-colored ribbon-
The tassel is of black lace.
19
 BEAIDING FOE A MASSEILLES CLOAK.

LADIES' BRAIDED SLIP'B1,'R. {See description, Work depaHment.)

21
 FANCY TIE.

Fig. 2.

Fig. 1 a portion of the tie, showing the ividth of the ribbon.

is
Fig. 2 complete.
is tlie tie
Take ribbon, with firm edges, but not very stiff, and cut it in three pieces each one yard and a
quarter long. Pull all the threads running lengthwise, so that the cross threads are only held
by the edge of the ribbon. Then fold the edges together, and twist the ribbon lightly, always
keeping the edges in the centre of the twist. When the three pieces are thus prepared, sew them
together, and trim the ends with a light silk tassel.
22
HALF-CIRCLE BOX TOILETTE PINCUSHION.
(dee description, Work JJtpartmtiit.)

EMBEOIDERY FOE A SKIET.

 BBAIDIITG FATTEBN.

EMBBOISEET.

2^n

PELERINE CLOAK.
(See description, Work Department.')
 BEAIDING PATTERH.

BHAIDED PINCUSHION.

BEAIDING PATTEEN.

TOL. LXTI.
25
 ALPHABET OF FANCY LETTERS.

B^ ^
0!
000 o

%te ^.

'2S
BRAIDED SHOE FOB A CHIID.
 BBAISING FATIESir.

EMBKOIDEKED POCKET FOR A LADY'S DRESS.

(5ce description, Work Department.)
 GODEY'S
%i\h'5 ^looli aiib lllaga^mt
PHILADELPHIA, JAXrART, 1863.

"HUSKS."
*'
And he would fain have filled himself with the hnsfes that the swine did eat ; and no man gave unto him.**

BY MARION HARLANB.

[Entered, according; to act of Congress, in the year ISCI, by LoriB A. Godbt, in the clerk's office of the District
Court of the United States, in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.]

CHAPTER I. he would have conceded it some degree of

to

It was a decided, uncompromising rainv day. the fashion claimed for by its inhabitants.
it

There were no showers, coquetted with by veer- There were larger houses and wider pavements
ing winds, or dubious mists, that at times grew to be had for the same price, a few blocks fur-

brighter, as if the sun were burning away their ther on, in more than one direction, but these
lining ;but a uniform expanse of iron-gray were unanimously voted "less eligible" and

clouds kept in close, grim column by a steady, " deficient in style," in spite of the fact that as
although not violent east wind sent straight good and better m.aterials were employed in
lines of heavy rain upon the earth. The naked their construction, and they were in all respects
trees, that, daring the earlier hours of the de- equal in external show and inside finish to those
luge, had seemed to shiver for the immature in this model quarter. " But our block has a
leaf-buds, so unfit to endure the rough hand-
certain air well
I don't know what; but it

ling of the storm, uow held out still, patient is you know, and so convenient
just the thing,
arras, the rising sap curdled within their hearts. So near the Avenue 1" would be the conclud-
The gutters were brimming streams, and the ing argument.
sidewalks were glazed with thin sheets of water. The nameless, indescribable charm of the lo-
The block of buildings before which our story cality lay in the last clause. "Just step around
pauses, was, as a gl.'ince would have showed the corner, and you are in the Avenue," said
the initiated in the grades of Gotham life, the favored dwellers in this vicinity, as the
highly respectable, even in the rain. On a climax in the description of their abode, and
clear day, when the half folded blinds revealed "that \ra.r fashion lies" to every right-minded
damask draperies within
the lace, silken, and ;
New Yorker of the feminine gender.
when young misses and masters galvanized But the aristocratic quiet of the neighborhood,
show-blocks of purple and fine linen, that would rendered oppressive and depressing by the gloom
have passed muster behind the plate-glass of of the day, was disturbed by a discordant sonnd
Gervin or Madame Demorest tripped after and what was especially martyrizing to re-
hoops, or promenaded the smooth pavement fined auriculars, the lament had the unmistak-
when pretty, j.aunty one-horse carriages, and able plebeian accent. The passionate scream
more pretentious equipages, each with a pair of with which the pampered darling of the nursery
prancing steeds, and two " outside passengers" resents interference with his rights and liberty
in broadcloth and tinsel hat-bands, received of tyranny, or the angry remonstrance of his
and discharged their loads before the brown- injured playmates, would have been quite an-

stone fronts had the afore-mentioned spectator other species of natural eloquence, as regards
chanced to perambulate this not spacious street, both quality and force, from the weak, broken
3 29
so godey's lady's book and magazine.

wail that sobbed along the wet streets. More- " Sit down !" she said, bringing up a chair to
over, what respectable child could be abroad the fire.

ou foot in this weather ? So, the disrespeotable
juvenile pursued her melancholy
ticed and unquestioned until she reached the
middle of the square. There a face appeared
at a window in the second story of a house
which only differed from those to its right, left
and opposite in the number upon the door
vanished, and in half a minute more a young
lady appeared in the sheltered vestibule.
" What is the matter, little girl ?"
The tone was not winning, yet the sobs ceased,
and the child looked up, as to a friendly ques-
tioner. She was about eleven years of age, if
one had judged from her size and form but her
features were pinched into unnatural maturity.
Her attire was wretched, at its best estate now,
soaked by the rain, the dingy hood drooped
over her eyes the dark cotton shawl retained
; kitchen mysteries improved the time of the
not one of its original colors, and the muddy
dress flapped and dripped about her ankles.
Upon one foot she wore an old cloth gaiter,
The storm-beaten wanderer obeyed, and ea-
way unno- gerly held up her sodden feet to the red grate.
" Have you no better shoes than those ?"
" No, ma'am."
"Humph! Nor dress nor shawl?"
"No, ma'am."
" Are you hungry?"
A ray shot from the swollen eyes. "Yes,
ma'am 1"
The lady disappeared in the pantry and pre-
sently returned with five or six slices of bread
and butter hastily cut and thickly spread, with
cheese and cold meat between them.
;
"Eat She thrust them into the match-
I"
girl's fingers." Wait here, while I go and look
; for some clothes for you."
As may be supposed, the insulted oracle of
benefactress's absence by a very plain expres-
sion of her sentiments towards beggars in gene-
ral,and this one in particular which harangue ;

probably picked up from an ash-heap the re- ; was received with applause by her fellow-ser-
mains of a more sorry slipper were tied around vants, and perfect equanimity by its object.
the other. She munched her sandwiches with greedy satis-
"I am so cold and wet, and my matches is faction, watching, the while, the little clouds
all sp'iltl" she answered, in a dolorous tone, of steam that ascended from her heated toes.
lifting the corner of a scrap of oil-cloth, which She was, to all appearance, neither a sensitive
covered a basket, tucked, for further security, nor intelligent child, and had known too much
under her shawl. of animal want and suil'ering to allow trifles to
" No wonder What else could you expect,
! spoil her enjoyment of whatever physical com-
if you would go out to sell them on a day like fort fell to her lot. Her mother at home could
this ? Go down into the area, there, and wait scold quite as virulently as the cook was now
until I let you in." doing, and she was more afraid of her anger,
The precaution was a wise one. No servant because she beat while she berated her. She
in that well-regulated household would have was convinced that she stood in no such peril
admitted so questionable a figure as that which here, for her protectress was one in power.
crept after their young mistress into the com- "Have you eaten enough?" said the clear,
fortable kitchen. The cook paused in the act abrupt voice behind her, as she held two sand-
of dissecting a chicken ; the butler on car- wiches in her fingers, without offering to put
riage days, the footman checked his flirtation them to her lips.
with the plump and laughing chambermaid, to " Yes, ma'am. May I take 'em home ?"
stare at the wretched apparition. The scrutiny " Certainly, if you like. Stand up, and take
of the first named functionary was speedily di- off your shawl."
verted to the dirty trail left by the intruder She put around the forlorn figure a thick
upon the carpet. A scowl puckered her red cloak, rusty and obsolete in fashion, but which
face, and her wrathful glance included both of was a warm and ample covering for the child,
the visitants as alike guilty of this desecration extending to the hem of her dress. The damp
of her premises. The housemaid rolled up her elf-locks were hidden by a knitted hood and, ;

eyes and clasped her hands in dumb show of for the feet, there were stockings and shoes,
horror and contempt, to her gallant, who re- and a pair of India-rubbers to protect these last
plied with a shrug and a
But not a word
grin. from the water.
of remonstrance or inquiry was spoken. It "Now," said the Humane Society of One,
was rather a habit of this young lady's to have when the refitting was at an end, " where do
her own way whenever she could, and that she yon live ? Never mind I don't care
! to know
was bent upon doing this now was clear. that yet ! Here is a small umbrella a good
 'HUSKS. 31

one whichbelongs to me. I h.ive no other worsteds. Why, I can't say, I 'm sure. It is

for myself when I go out in bad we.ither. I too bad that I can wear so few other colors !

mean to lead it to you, to-d.iy, upon the con- But I am such a fright in pink, or scarlet, or
dition that you will bring it hiick to morrow, or any shade of red !"
the first clear day. Will you do it ?" "As if you couldever beafright in anything!"
The promise was readily given. returned her companion, with seeming indig-
" Here 's an old thing. Miss Sarah!" ventured nation.
the butler, respectfully; producing a bulky, Lucy smiled, showing a set of faultless teeth
ragged cotton umbrella from a corner of the that, to a stranger's first glance, would have
kitchen closet. "It's risky trusting sech as appeared by far the most attractive point in
that with your nice silk one." her physiognomy. If closer examination dis-
" That will let in the rain, and is entirely too covered that her skin was pearly in whiteness
large for her to carry. You understand, child ? and transparency, that her form was exquisite,
You are to bring this safely back to me, the with a sort of voluptuous grace her hands ;

firsttime the sun shines. Can you find your worthy, in shape and hue, to become a sculp-
w.ay to this house again V tor's model ; still, in the cold, unflattering
Thank you, ma'am !"
''Oh yes, ma'am, easy ! light of this rainy afternoon, her want of color,
She dropped an awkwanl courtesy, as Miss her light gr.-iy eyes, her yellow hair, drawn
Sarah held open the door for her to pass, and straight back from the broad, low brow, pre-

went out into the rain warm, dry, and shielded cluded the idea that she could ever, with all
against further damage from the storm. the accessories of artificial glare, dress, and
Unheeiling the significant looks of the culi- animation, be more than a merely pretty girl.

Bary cabinet, Sarah Hunt turned away and MissWest knew better, and Lucy realized the
ascended the stairs. She was a striking-look- power of her own charms with full and complete
ing girl, although her features, when in repose, complacency. Secure in this pleasant self-ap-
could claim neither beauty of form or expres- preciation, she could afibrd to be careless as to
sion. Her complexion was dark and p.ale, with her everyday looks and home-people. She saw
a slight tinge of olive, and her hair a deep and enjoyed the manifest surprise of those who,
brown, lips whose compression was habitual, having seen her once in morning dishabille,
an aquiline nose, and eyes that changed from beheld her afterwards in elabor.ate evening
dreamy hazel to midnight bl.ackness at the call toilet. Then the abundant hair, wreathed with
of mind or feeling, gave marked character to golden ripples, the classic head, the most art-
her countenance. Her sententious style of fully simple of tasteful ornaments a camellia,
address to the child she had just dismissed was a rosebud, or a pearl hairpin adornment its sole
natural, and usual to her in ordinary conversa- her eyes, large, full,were blue in-
and soft,

tion, as was also the gravity, verging upon stead of gray, while the heat of the assembly-
sombreness, wliich bad not once during the room, the excitement of the crowd, or the
interview relaxed into a smile. exultation of gratified vanity supplied the
The family sitting-room, her destination at rounded cheek with rich bloom, and dewy ver-
present, and to which we will take the liberty milion to the lips. But nature's rarest gift to
of preceding her, was furnished elegantly and her was her voice, a mellow contralto, whose
substantially and there, leaning back in loung-
; skilful modulations stole refreshingly to the
ing-chairs, were Miss Lucy Hunt, the eldest senses amid the sharp clash of strained and
daughter of the hou?eliold, and her bosom higher tones, the castanet like jingle which
friend, Miss Victoria West. Each held and most American belles ring unmercifnlly into
wielded a crochet-needle, and had upon her lap the ears of their auditors. Lucy Hunt was
a basket of many-hued balls of double or single not " a great talker," still less was she profound
zephyr worsted, or Shetland or Saxony wool, or brilliant when she did speak yet she inva- ;

or whatever was the fashion.able article for such riably conveyed the impression to the miuil of

pretty trilling at that date. Miss West had a new acquaintance of a thoroughly cultivated
completed one-quarter of a shawl for herself, woman, one whose acquirements were far be-
white and scarlet and her friend had made
; yond her modest exhibition of thought and
precisely the same progress in the arduous sentiment. The most commonplace phrase
manufacture of one whose centre was white came smoothly and roundly from her tongue,
and its border blue. and he was censorious indeed who was willing
"Yours will be the prettiest," remarked to lose the pleasure afibrded by its musical
Lucy, regretfully. " Blue never looks well in utterance in weighing its meaning. At school
32 GODET S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.
had never been diligent, except in the study
Blie
of music,and her pains-taking in this respect
was rewarded by the reputation, justly earned,
of being the finest vocalist in her circle of associ-
ates. In society she shone as a rising star of
the magnitude at home she was happy,
first ; toady Miss Hunt. In a business that is, a
cheerful,and indolently amiable. Why should
she be otherwise ? From her babyhood she had
teen petted and admired by her family, and
the world her world was as ready with its
meed of the adulation which was her element.
There were, besides the two sisters already
introduced to the reader, three other children
in the Hunt household a couple of sturdy
lads, twelve and fourteen years of age, and
little Jeannie, a delicate child of six, whom
Lucy caressed with petand sugar-plums
titles
of flattery, and Sarah served in secret and idola-
trous fondness. This family it was Mrs. Hunt's
care and pride to rear and maintain, not only
in comfort, but apparent luxury, upon the
salary which her husband received as cashier
of a prominent city bank, an income sufficient
to support them in modest elegance, but which
few besides Mrs. Hunt could have stretched to
cover the expenses of their ostensible style of
living. But this notable manager had learned
economy in excellent schools ;
primarily as a
country girl, whose holiday finery was pur-
chased with the proceeds of her own butter-
making and poultry-yard then as the brisk,
; lovely peach-blossom hats that you and Sarah
lively wife of the young clerk, whose slender
salary had, up to the time of his marriage,
barely sufliced to p.ay for his own board and
clothes, and whose only vested capital was his
pen, his good character, and perfect knowledge
of book-keeping. But if his help-meet were a
clever housewife, she was likewise ambitious.
With the exception of the sum requisite for the
yearly payment of the premium upon Mr.
Hunt's life-insurance policy, their annual ex-
penses devoured every cent of their receipts.
Indeed, it was currently believed among out-
siders that they had other resources than
the cashier's wages, and Mrs. Hunt indirectly
encouraged the report that she held property
in her own right. They lived " as their neigh-
bors did," as "everybody in their position in
society was bound to do," and "everybody"
else was too intent upon his personal affairs,
too busy with his private train of plans and
operations to examine closely the cogs, and
levers, and boilers of the locomotive Hunt. If
it went ahead, and kept upon the track assigned
it, was always "up to time," and avoided un-
pleasant collisions, it was nobody's business
how the steam was gotten up.
Every human plant of note has its parasite,
and Miss Lucy Hunt was not without hers.
There existed no reason in the outward circum-
stances of the two girls why Miss Hunt should
not court Miss West, rather than Miss West
pecuniary point of view, the former appeared
the more likely state of the case, inasmuch as
Victoria's father was a stook-'oroker of reputed
wealth, and with a probable milliouaireship in
prospective, if his future good fortune equalled
his past, while Mr. Hunt, as has been stated,
depended entirely upon a certain and not an
extravagant stipend. But the girls became
intimate at school, " came out" the same win-
ter at the same party, where Lucy created a
"sensation," and Victoria would have been
overlooked but for the sentimental connection
between the (Ulmtantes. Since then, although
the confidante would have scouted the imputa-
tion of interested motives with the virtuous in-
dignation of wounded affection, she had never-
theless "made good thing of it," as her
a
respected father would have phrased it, by
playing hanger-on, second fiddle, and trumpeter
general to the belle.
" As if t/ou could be a fright in anything I"
she had said naturally and perhaps sincerely.
Lucy's smile was succeeded by a serious
look. "I am sadly tempted sometimes Those !
wore this past winter were absolute trials to
my sense of right And no longer ago than
I
Mrs. Grossman's party I was guilty of the sin
of coveting the complexion that enabled Maria
Johnston to wear that sweet rose-colored silk,
with the lace skirt looped with rosebuds."
" You envy Maria Johnston's complexion I
Why don't you go further, and fall in love with
her small eyes and pug nose ?" inquired Victo-
ria, severely ironical. " I have heard that
people were never contented with their own
gifts, but such a case of blindness as this has
never before come under my observation."
"No, no! I am not quite so humble with
regard to my personal appearance as you would
make out. Yet" and the plaintive voice
might have been the murmur of a grieving
angel "I think that there are compensations
in the lot of plain people that we know nothing
about. They escape the censure and unkind
remarks that uncharitable and envious women H
heap upon those who happen to be attractive.
Now, there is Sarah, who never cares a button
about her looks, so long as her hair is smooth
and her dress clean and whole. She hates
parties, and is glad of any excuse to stay out
 HUSKS. 33

of the parlor when gentlemen calk Give her " And you hate the very sight of shell-work,
her books ami that 'snuggery,' as she calls it, and cone-frames, and Grecian painting, and all
of a room up stairs, and she is happier than if such vanities ?"
she were in the gayest company in the world. " If I must speak the truth, I do most
Who criticizes herf Nobody is jealous of her heartily I"
face, or manners,, or conversation.And she Victoria was not easily turned from lier pur-
would not mind they were."
it if pose.
"She has a more independent nature than " Come, Sarah Tell us what you would
I

yours, my dear. I, for one, am rejoiced that have us, poor trifling, silly things, do to kill
you two are unlike. I conld not endure to the time."
lose my darling friend, and somehow never I " If you must be a murderer, do it in your
could understand Sarah ; never could get near own way. I have nothing to say in the mat-

to her, you know." ter."

" I do not wonder at that. It is just so with " Do you mean that time never hangs upon
me, sisters though we are. However, Sarah your hands ? that you are never ennui/^e, hla-
means well, if her manner is blunt and some- sief"
times cold." " Speak English, and I will answer you !"
The entrance of the person under discussion " I want to know," said the persevering tor-
checked the conversation at this point, .and mentor, "if the hum-drum books up-stairs,
both young ladies began to count their stitches your paint bos, and your easel are such good
aloud, to avoid the appearance of the foolish company that you are contented and happy
embarrassment that ever overtakes a. brace of always when you are with them ? if you never
gossips at being thus interrupted. get cross with yourself and everybody else, and
Sarah's work I.ay on her stand near the win- wonder what you were put into the world for,
dow, where she h,ad thrown it when the crying and why the world itself was made, and wish
child attracted her notice, and she resumed it that you conld sleep until doomsday. Uo you
now. It was a dress for Jeannie. It was a rare ever feel like this ?"
occurrence for the second sister to fashion any- Sarah lifted her eyes with a wondering, in-
thing so pretty and g.ay for her own wear. credulous stare at the flippant inquisitor.
"Have you taken to fancy-work at last?" " I hare felt thus, but I did not suppose that
asked Victoria, seeing that the unmade skirt you had 1"
was stamped with a rich, heavy pattern for "Oh I I have a 'blue' turn now and then,
embroidery. but the disease is always more dangerous with
"No!" Sarah did not affect her sister's girls of your sort the reading, thinking, strong-
friend, and did not trouble herself to disguise minded kind. And the older you grow, the
her feelings towards her. worse you will get. I hav'n't as much book
Lucy explained " She is m-iking it for.Tean-
: knowledge as you have, but I know more of the
nie. She does everything for that child." world we live in. Take my advice, and settle
"You are very sisterly and kiird, I am sure," down to woman's right sphere. Drive away
Victoria continued, patronizingly. ' You must the vapors with beaux .md fancy-work now. By
quite despise Lucy and myself for thinking of and by, a husband and an esfablishment will
and doing so much for ourselves, while you are give you something else to think .about."
such a pattern of self-denial." Sarah would have replied, but Lucy broke in
A blaze shot up in Sarah's eye; then she with a laugh, light and sweet.
said, coldly " I am not self-denying.
: Have I " You two are always at cross-questions I

ever found fault with you or Lucy for doing as Why can't you be s.atisfied to let one another
you like?" alone ? Sarah and I never quarrel, A'ic. We
" Oh no, my dear But you take no inte-
!
agree to disagree. She gives me my way, and
rest in what we enjoy. I dare say, now, you Idon't meddle with her. If she likes the blues
would think it a dull business to work day (they say some people enjoy them !) where 's
after day for three or four weeks together, the harm of her having them ? They never
crocheting a shawl which m.ay go out of fashion come near me. If I get stupid, I go to bed and
before one has a chance to sport it at a water- sleep it off. Don't you think I have done ten
ing-place." rows, since breakfast ? What a godsend a rainy
" I certainly should !" The curl of the thin diiyis, wlien one has a fascinating piece of work

upper lip would have answered for her had she on hand !"
not spoken. Too proud to seem to abandon the field,
 godey's lady's book and magazine.

Sarah sat for half an hour longer, stitching blocks arose to her window above
off, its plash-
steadily away at the complicated tracery upon ing fall upon the pavement, and the trickle of
the ground to be workedj then, as the dimmer the drops from sash to sill. A stream of light
daylight caused the others to draw near to the from the lamp-post at the corner flashed ath-
windows, she pushed aside her table and put wart the sidewalk, glittered Upon the swollen
by her sewing. gutter, made gold and silver blocks of the pav-

"Don't let us drive you away!" said Vic- ing-stones. As

they had waited for this sig-
if

toria's mock-polite tones and Lucy added,

; nal, other lights now shone out from the windows
kindly, " We do not mean to disturb you, across the way, and from time to time a broad,
Sarah, dear I" transient gleam from opening doors, told of the
" You do not disturb me !" was the reply to return of fathers, brothers, husbands from their
the latter. The other had neither glance nor day's employment.
word. **
He Bees the light ia happy homes !"
Up another flight, she mounted to a room, What was there in the line that should make
much smaller than that she had left and far the watcher catch her breath in sudden pain,
plainer in its appointments. The higher one and lay her hand, with stifled moan, over her
went Hunt's house, the less splendid
in Mrs. heart, as she repeated it aloud ?
everything became. In the state spare cham- Witness with me, ye maternal Hunts, who
ber a story below nothing of comfort and read this page you, the careful and solicitous
luxury was wanting, from the carved rosewood
about many things in nothing more ambitious
bedstead, with the regal-looking canopy over- than for the advancement and success in life of
shadowing its pillows, down to the Bohemian
your ofispring add your testimony to mine
and cut-glass scent bottles upon the marble that this girl had all that was desirable for one
of the dressing-cabinet. Sarah's carpet was of her age and in her circumstances. A house
common ingrain, neither pretty nor new ; a as handsome as her neighbors, an education
cottage bedstead of p.ainted wood ; bureau and unsurpassed by any of her late school-fellows,
washstand of the same material ; two chairs, a "position in society;" a reasonable share of
and a small table were all the furniture her good looks, which only required care and culti-
mother adjudged needful. To these the girl vation on her part, to become really dislinguS
had added, from her pittance of pocket money, indulgent parents and peaceably-inclined bro-
a set of hanging bookshelves a portable desk,
; thers and sisters read the list, and solve me,
;

an easel, and two or three good engravings that
adorned the walls.
She locked the door after her, with a kind of
angry satisfaction in her face, and going straight
to the window, leaned upon the sash, and looked
down into the flooded street. Her eyes were
dry, but there was a heaving in her throat
tightening of the muscles about the month that
would have made most women weep for very
relief. Sarah Hunt would have scorned the
if you enigma of this perturbed spirit
can, the
this hungering and thirsting after contraband
or unattainable pleasures.
" Some girls will do so !" Mrs. Hunt assured
her husband when he " thought that Sarah did
not seem so happy as Lucy. He hoped nothing
a ;
ailed the child. Perhaps the doctor had better
drop in to see' her. Could she be fretting for
anything? or had her feelings been hurt?"
"Bless your soul, Mr. H. there's nothing t

ease purchased by such weakness. She did the matter with lier. She always was kind
not despise the sad loneliness that girt her o' queer!" (Mrs. Hunt did not use her com-
around, any more than the captive warrior does pany grammar every day), " and she 's jest
his cell of iron or stone, but she held that it eighteen year old. That 's the whole of it
would be a cowardly succumbing to Fate, to She '11 come 'round in good time, 'specially if
wound herself by dashing against the grim Lucy should marry off pretty soon. When
walls, or bring out their sleeping echoes by Sarah is 'Miss Hunt,' she'll be as crazy for
womanish wailiiigs. So, presently, her throat beaux and company, and as ready to jump at
ached and throbbed no longer the rigid mus- ;
a prime offer as any of 'em. I know girls'
cles compressed the lips no more than was their ways I"
wont the hands loosened their vice-like grasp
;
Nor am I prepared to say that Sarah, as she
of one another
the brain was free to think. quitted her look-out at the high window, at
The rain fell still with a solemn stateliness the sound of the dinner-bell, could have given
that befitted the coming twilight. It was a a more satisfactory reason for her discontent
silent storm for one so heavy. The faint hum and want of spirits.
of the city ; the tinkle of the car-bell, three
 HUSKS.

mild, quiet little rnan, was a dish of stew, which

CHAPTER II.
was, in its peculiar line, a thing not of beauty
Mbs. Hcnt"s chiua, like her grammar, was of but wonder.
two sorts. Wheu her duty to "society" or the Only a few days since, as I stood near the
necessity of circumstauces forced her to be hos- stall of a poultry vender iu market, a. lady in-
pitable, she "did the thing" well. Atanotice quired for chickens.
of moderate length, she could get up a hand- "Yes, ma'am. Roasting size, ma'am?"
some, if not a bountiful entertainment, to which " No I want them for a fricassee."
;

no man need have been ashamed to seat his

" Ah" with a look of shrewd intelligence.
friends, and when the occasion warranted tlie " Then, ma'am, I take it, you don't care to
display, she grudged not the "other" chiua, have 'em overly tender. Most ladies prefers
the other silver, nor the other table-linen. the old ones for fricassee they come cheaper,;

She did, however, set her face, like a broad and very often bile tender."
flint, against the irregularity of inviting chance "Thank you," was the amused rejoinder.
visitors to part.ike of the family bread .and salt. " The difference iu the price is no cousideratiou
Intimate as Victoria West was with Lucy, she where the safety of our teeth is concerned."
met only a show of regretful acquiescence
civil Mrs. Hunt suffered not these scruples to
in her proposal to go home, as the dinner-hour hinder her negotiations with knowing poultry
approiiched and Robbie or Richard Hunt was
; merchants. A cent less per pound would be
promptly offered to escort her to her abode upon three cents saved upon the chicken, and three
the next block. If she remained to luncheon, cents would buy enough turnips for dinner.
as she uoulil do occasionally, Lucy, in her he,ir- It isan ignorant housekeeper who needs to be
ing, begged her mother to excuse them from informed tliat stewed chicken "goes further"
going down, and to send up two cups of lea, than the same fowl made into any other savory
and a few sandwiches to the sitting-room. This combination, Mrs. Hunt's stews were con-
slight rep.ist was served by the butler upon a cocted after a receipt of her own invention.
neat little tray, in a tcle-a-tHe service a Christ- Imprimis, one chicken, weight varying froui
mas gift toLucy, "from her ever-loving Vic- two and a half to three pounds salt pork, a
;

toria," and sentimentally dedicated to the use quarter of a pound ;

gravy abundant dump- ;

of the pair of adopted sisters. lings innumerable. It was all "stew;" and
Therefore, Sarah was not surprised to find ifJeannie's share was but a bare drumstick,
Victoria gone, despite the storm, wheu she en- swimming in gravy and buried in boiled dough,
tered the dining-room. An immense crumb- there was the chicken flavor through the por-
cloth covered the carpet ; a row of shrouded tion.
chairs, packed elbow to elbow, stood against For classic antecedent the reader is referred
tlie farther end of the apartment, and a set of to the fable of the rose-scented clay.
very ordinary ones were around the table. To leave the principal dish, which justice to
The cloth was of nhity-brown material, and the Mrs. Hunt's genius would not permit me to pass
dishes a motley collection of halt and maimed with briefer mention, there were, besides, pota-
for all Mrs. Hunt's vigilance could not make whole (mashed ones required but-
toes, served
servants miraculously careful. There was no terand cream), turnips, and brnad, and Mrs.
propriety, however, according to her system of Hunt presided over a shallow jilatter of pork
economy, in condemning a plate or cup as past and beans. What was left of that dish would
service, because it had come off second best, to be warmed over to piece out breakfast next
the extent of a crack, or nick, or an amputated morning. The children behaved well, and the
handle in an encounter with some other mem- most minute by-law of table etiquette was
ber of the rockery tribe. " While there is observed with a strictness that imparted an air
rife there is hope," was, in these cases, para- of ceremonious restraint to the meal. If Mrs.
phrased by her to the effect that while a utensil Hunt's young people were not in time finished
would hold water, it was too good to be thrown ladies and gentlemen, it was not her fault, nor
away. was it for the lack of drilling.
It was not a sumptuous repast to which " Do as I tell you, not as I do," were her
Sarah sat down after she had placed Jeanuie orders in these matters. Since Lucy had com-
in her high chair and tied the great gingham pleted her education, the mother added: "Look
bib around her neck. On the contrary it came at your sister she is never awkward !"
;
This
near being a scant provision for the healthy was true Lucy was born the fine lady. Re-
;

appetites of seven people. Before Mr. Hunt, a finement of manner and grace of movement, au
36 GODEY'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

instinctive avoidance of whatever looked com- Sarah's hand closed instantly over the little
mon underbred were a part of lier nature.
or fingers. The simple-hearted babe understood
Only the usage of years had accustomed her to and sympathized with her motive and act better
her mother's somewhat "fussy" ways. Had than did her wiser elders.
she met her in company as Mrs. Anybody else, " Oh, I have no doubt she told a pitiful story,
she would have yielded her the right of way and shed enough tears to wet her through, if
with a feeling of amazement and amiable pity the rain bad not done it already. If you listen
that one who meant so well should so often to what these wretches say, and undertake to
overdo the thing she aimed to accomplish easily relieve their wants, you will soon have not a
and gracefully. Following out her excellent dress to your back nor a house over your head.
system of training, the worthy dame demanded Why didn't you send her to some society for
as diligent and alert waiting from her butler as the relief of the poor?"
if she were having a dinner-party. The eggless " I did not know where to find one, ma'am."
rice pudding was brought on with a state that This plain truth, respectfully uttered, con-
was absolutely ludicrous but the family were
; founded Mrs. Hunt for a second.
used to the unsubstantial show, and took it as "Mrs. James is one of the Managers in a
a matter of course. Benevolent Association," she said, recovering
After the meal was over Mrs. Hunt withdrew herself. "You had ought to have given your
to the kitchen for a short conference with the beggar her address."
cook and a sharp glance through the closets. "Even if I had known that fact, mother, the

It was impossible that the abstraction of six
slices of bread from the baking of the preceding
day, three thick pieces of cheese, and more
than half of the cold meat she had decided
would, in the form of hash, supply the other
piece of the breakfast at which the beans were
to assist, should escape her notice. Mr. Hunt
was reading the evening paper by the drop-
light in the sitting-room, Lucy was busy with
her shawl, and Sarah told a simple tale in a
low voice to Jeannie, as she leaned upon her
lap, when the wife and mother entered, with
something like a bluster. All present looked
up, and each one remarked the cloud upon her
brow.
"What the matter, mother?" said Mr.
is
Hunt, in a tone not free from alarm.
girl would have been obliged to walk half a
mile in the storm to find this one manager.
What do you suppose Mrs. James would have
done for her that was not in my power to per-
form?"
"She would have asked the child where-
abouts she lived, and to-morrow she would
have gone to hunt her up. If she found all
as she had been told, which is not likely these
creatures don't give a right direction once in
ten times, why, she would have brought the
case before the board at their next meeting,
and they would help them, if neither of her
parents was a drinking character."
"God help the poor!" ejaculated Sarah,
energetically. " God help the poor, if this is
man's style of relieving his starving brother !

" I am worried That 's the whole of it

! I ! Mother, do you think that hunger pinches any
am downright vexed with you, Sarah, and sur- the less when the famished being is told that
prised, too I What upon
earth possessed you, next week or next month may bring hira one
beggar into my kitchen to-
child, to take that good meal? Will the promise of a bushel of
day? After all I have told you and tried to coal or a blanket, to be given ten days hence,
learu you about these shameful impostors I ! warm the limbs that are freezing to-night ? Is
declare I was beat out when I heard it. And present help for present need, then, always
to throw away provisions and clothes upon unsafe, imprudent, insane ?"
such a brat !" " That all sounds very fine, my dear." Mrs.
Lucy opened her great eyes at her sister, Hunt grew cool as her daughter waxed warm.
and Mr, Hunt looked perplexedly towards his "But when you have seen as much of the
favorite, for at heart he was partial to his world as I have, you will understand how ne-
second child. cessary it is to be careful about believing all
"
took the poor creature to the fire, mother,
I that we Another thing you must not
hear.
because she was wet and cold ;' I fed her be- forget, and that is that we are not able to give
cause she was hungry I gave her some old,
; freely, no matter how much disposed we may
warm clothes of mine because hers were thin be to do so. It 's pretty hard for a generous
and soaked with rain." person to say, 'No,' but it can't be helped.
"Poor little girl !" murmured Jeannie, com- People in our circumstances must learn this
passionately. lesson." Mrs. Hunt sighed at thought of the
 "husks." 37

curb put npiin lur benevolent desires by bitter age I ever met with, my daughter. I shall n"t

necessity. "And after all very few you've mind the loss of the umbrella if it prove to be

no idea how few of thess pretended sufferers the means of giving you a lesson in hun[:in
are really in want." nature. In this world, dear, do to it will not
This preluded a recital of sundry barefaced wear your heart upon your Never be- sleeve.
impositions and successful swindles pr.ictised lieve a pretty story until you have had the
upon herself and acquaintances, to which Mr. opportunity to ascertain for yourself whether
Hunt subjoined certain of his per.sonal experi- it is true or false." And with these titbits of
ences, all tending to establish the principle worldly wisdom, the cashier picked up his
that in a vast majority of cases of seeming des- paper.
titution the supplicant was an accomplished " Six dollars ! I declare I don't know what
rogue, and the giver of alms the victim of his to say to you, Sarah!" persisted the ruflled

own soft heart and a villain's wiles. .leannie mother. "You cannot expect me to give you
drank every syllable, until her ideal beggar
in another umbrella this season. You must give
quite equalled the ogre who would have made up your walks in damp weather alter this. I
a light supper off of Hop-o'-my-Thumb and bro- can't say that I am very sorry for that, though.
thers. I never did fancy your traipsing off two or
" You gave this match-girl no money, I three miles, rain or shine, like a sewing-girl."
hope?" said Mrs. Hunt, at length. " Very well, madam !"
" I did not, madam. 1 had none to give But, steadied by pride as was her voice, her
her." Impelled by her straight-forward sense heart sank at the possibility of resigning the
of honesty that would not allow her to receive exercise upon which she deemed so much of
commendation prudence she had not shown,
for her health, physical and mental, depended.
she said, bravely " Hut I lent her my um-
: These long, solitary walks were one of the nu-
brella upon her promise to return it to-moirow." Ameiican habits that earned for Sarah Hunt
"Well!" the reputation of eccentricity. They were usu-
Mrs. Hunt dropped her hands in her lap, ally taken immediately after breakfast, and few
ind stared in speechless dism.ay at her daugh- in the neighborhood who were abroad or hap-
ter. Even her husband felt it his duty to pened to look out at that hour, were not fami-
express his disapprobation. liar with the straight, proud figure, habited in
" That was very unwise, my daughter. You itswalking-dress of gray and black, stout boots,
willnever see it again." and gray hat with black plume. It was a
"I think differently, father." uniform selected by herself, and which her
"You are too easily imposed upon, Sarah. mother permitted her to assume, because it
There is not the least probability that your "looked genteel," and became the wearer.
property will be returned. Was it a good um- Especially did she enjoy these tramps when
brella?" the threatening storm, in its early stages, kept
" It was the one I always use." others of her class and sex at home. The un-
"Black silk, the best make, with a carved tamed spirit found a fierce pleastire in wrestling
ivory h.andle cost six dollars a month ago !" with the wind ; the hail that ushered in the
gasped Mrs. Hunt. " I never heard of such a snow-storm, as it heat in her face, called up
piece of shameful imprudence in all my born lustre to the eye and warm color to the cheek.
days and I shouldn't wonder if you never
! To a soul sickening of the glare and perfume
once thought to ask her where she lived, that of the artificial life to which she was confined
you might send a police officer after it, if the the roughest and wildest aspects of nature
little thief didn't bringback to you !"it were a welcome change.
" I did think of it." Sarah paused, then I remember laughing heartily, as I doubt not

forced out the confession she foresaw would you did also, dear reader, if you saw it, at a
subject her to the charge of yet more ridiculous cut which appeared several years ago in the
folly. "I did think of it, but concluded to Punch department of Harper's iluijnzine. A
throw the girl upon her honor, not to suggest "wee toddler," perhaps four years old, with a
the theft to her by insinuating a doubt of her most lack-a-daisical expression njion herchnbby
integrity." visage, accosts her grandmother after this fash-
Mr. Hunt was annoyed with and sorry for the ion " I am tired of life, graii<lmamma
: The !

culprit, yethe could not help smiling at this world is hollow and my doll is stuffed with
high-flown generosity of confidence. " You are sawdust, and, ifyou please, ma'am, I should
certainly the most unsophisticated girl of your like to go to a nunnery !"
VOL. LXVI.
33 godey's ladt's book a'nd magazine.
Yet that there are natures upon which the
feeling of emptiness and longing herein bur-
lesqued seizes in mere babyhood is sadly true.
And what wonder ? From their cradles, hun-
dreds of children, in our so-called better classes,
are fed upon husks. A superficial education,
in which all that is not showy accomplishment
is so dry and uninviting that the student has
little disposition to seek further for the rich
kernel, the strong meat of
preparatory course to a premature introduction
into the world, to many the only phase of life
they are permitted to see, a scene where all is
flash and froth, empty bubbles of prizes, chased
by men and women with empty heads, and oh,
how often empty, aching hearts Outside
principles, outside aflfections,
and, most pitiable of all, outside piety
nury of heart and stomach
parade of reckless extravagance and ostenta-
tious profession of fine feeling
timents !
"Woe," cried the Preacher, "to them that
make haste to be he had lived in our
rich !" If
day, in what biting terms of reprobation and
contempt would he have declaimed against the
insane ambition of those who forego the solid
comforts of judicious expenditure of a mode-
rate income would spurn the holy quiet
afford ;
of domestic joys neglect soul, with heart cul-
ture in their haste to seem rich,
dence has seen that wealth
for them ! Out upon the disgusting, indecent
race and scramble The worship of the golden
! once.
calf isbad enough, but when this bestial idola-
try rises to such a pitch of fanaticism, that in
thousands of households, copies in pinchbeck
and plated ware are set up and served, the
spectacle is too monstrous in its abomination
This it is, that crowds our counting-rooms with
bankrupts and our state prisons with default-
ers that is fast twining our ball-moms and
; from the uncongenial whirl around her, she
other places of fashionable rendezvous, into
vile caricatures of foreign courts, foreign man-
ners, and foreign vices while the people we
;
ape our chosen models and exemplars hold
their sides in inextinguishable laughter at the
grave absurdity of our laborious imitation.
is no cause for marvel, that, in just retribution,
there should be sent a panic-earthquake, every
three years, to shake men to their senses.
Such was the atmosphere in whicli Sarah
Hunt had always lived. In the code subscribed
to by her mother, and the many who lived and
felt and panted and pushed as she did for social
distinction, nothing was of real, absolute value
except the hard cash. Gold and silver were
facts. All things else were comparative in use
and worth. The garment which, last winter,
no lady felt dressed without, was an obsolete
horror this season. The pattern of curtains
and furniture that nearly drove the fortunate
purchaser wild with delight, three years back,
was now only fit for the auction-room. In
vain might the poor, depleted husband plead
for and extol their beauties. The fiat of fashion
knowledge, is the Iiad gone forth, and his better half seasoned liis
fooil with lamentations, and moistened her pil-
low with tears until she carried her point. We
have intimated that Sarah was a peculiar girl.
Whence she derived her vigorous intellect
her strong, original turn of thoughther deep ;
!
heart, was a puzzle to those who knew her pa-
outside smiles, rents. The mother was energetic, the father
1 Pe- sensible, but both were commonplace, and fol-
at home ; abroad a lowed, like industrious puppets,in the wake of
others. They were pleased that Sarah brought
and liberal sen- home all the prizes offered at school, and both
considered that she gained a right, by these
victories, to pursue her studies at home, pro-
vided she did not obtrude her singular views
and tastes upon other people. Mrs. Hunt sighed,
frequently and loudly, in her presence, that
her genius had not been for shell, or bead, or
worsted-work, instead of for reading volumes,
that did not even decorate the show book-case
in the library.
when Provi- " If you must have so many books, why
is not to be desired don't you pick out them with the tasty bind-
ings ?" she had asked her daughter more than
" wish you would paint some
And I
bright, lively pictures, that would look hand-
some on the walls, instead of those queer men
and women and cloudy things you have got up
stairs. I 'd have 'em framed right away, and
! be real proud to tell who done them."
Sarah remained proof against such hints and
temptations, and, shrinking more and more
twined her eager, restless spirit into her secret,
inner life, where, at times, it was flattered into
content by the idealities upon which it was fed ;
at others, ramped and raved, like any other
chained wild thing. The sweetest drop of plea-
It sure she had tasted for many a day was the
thrillshe experienced when the forlorn object
she had rescued from the power of the storm
stood before her, decently and comfortably clad.
The rash confidence she had reposed in so sus-
picious a strangerwas the outgoing of a heart
too noble and true in every impulse to pause,
for a moment, to speculate upon the chances of
another's good or bad faith. The great world
of the confessedly poor was an unknown field
 'HUSKS.' 39

to her one she lougeJ to explore. Her foot- future profit. Mr. Huut was right in supposing
steps loitered more often near the entrance that the " unsophisticated girl" had learned
of some narrow, reeking street or alley, down something. Whether she were happier or bet-
which she luaJ promised her mother not to go, ter for the lesson thus acquired was another
than on the spacious pari, where over-dressed thing.
women and foppish men halted at, and hung Once again Sarah had an opportunity for
around bewitching shop-windows. She won- speech with her delinquent proter/fe. Two
dered how such throngs of breathing beings months later, she was passing through a by-
contrived to exist in those fetid, cramped quar- street in a mean neighborhood, very far up
ters ; how they lived, spoke, acted, felt. The town, in her morning ramble, when her pro-
great tie of human brotherhood became daily gress w.as arrested, for an instant, by two boys,
more tense, as she pondered these things in who ran out of an alley across the walk. One
her heart. overtook the other just in front of the lady, and
On this particular day, as she sat, silent and catching him by his ragged collar, threw him
thoughtful, at her needle, the chit-chat of her down.
compauions less heeded than the continual drop- " That 's right ! beat him well I I 'II help !"
ping of the rain without, the wail of the shiver- screeched a girl, rushing out of the court whence
ing wanderer caused a painful vibration through they had come.
every nerve. The deed was done the experi- !
Grinning with delight, she flung herself upon
ment was tried. She was ashamed that an the prostrate form and commenced a vigorous
event so trivial held her eyes waking, far into assault, accompanied by langu.ige alike foul
the night. At
she said to herself, she
least, and profane.
would not be without a lesson of some kind ; Sarah recognized her inst.mtly, and while
would learn whether deceit and falsehood pre- she paused in mingled amazement and anger,
v.ailed in the lowest, as well as the higher the child looked up and saw her. In a twink-
ranks of society. If, as she still strove to be- ling she relinquished her grip of the boy's
lievewould be the case, the child returned the hair jumped up and sped back into the dirty
borrowed property, she would make use of her, alley, with the blind haste of guilty fear.
as the means of entering upon a new sphere of Yes ! Mr. Hunt was a wise man, who knew
research and action. After so complete a refu- the world, and trebly sage in her generation,
tation of her theories respecting the utter cor- was his spouse. If their daughter had never
ruption of all people, who had not enough to acknowledged this before, she did now, in her
eat and to wear, her mother could not withhold disgust and dismay at this utter overthrow of
her consent to her petition that she might be- her dreams of the virtuous simplicity to be

come a lay-missionary a present relief com- found in lowly homes, where riches and fash-
mittee to a small portion of the suffering, toil- ions were things unknown.
ing, ill-paid masses. She would then have a (To be cuntinued.)

work to do something to call out energy and
engage feeling in healthy exercise and soothed
by the romantic vision, she fell asleep with a Evert soul has an immortality and infinity
smile upon her lips. in itself that cannot be searched or expressed ;

The morning dawned between breaking it is an awful secret, that neither language,
clouds, that soon left the sky clear and bright. nor action, nor expression of any kind can
All through the day Sarah watched for her disclose we all of us long for what life cannot
;

visitor of the preceding day

watched with supply our aspirations are infinitely beyond
;

nervousness she could not wholly conceal, from our attainments so much so, that they who
;

morn to night, for two, three days for a week. are contented with the world as it is are the
Then she looked no longer while at liome; her mere cattle of improvements
society. All
question, at entering the house, after a drive or
originate with discontentment we labor and ;

walk, ceased to be, "Has anything been left

bring forth in sorrow genius is a Laborer, an
;

for me ?" So palpable was her disappointment

operative, a slave and every useful man and
;

that her father forbore to make any allusiou

woman is.
to her loss, and Lucy, albeit she was somewhat
obtuse to the finer points of her sister's charac- Ki.NDXESs in ourselves is the honey that blunts
ter, good-naturedly interposed to change the the sting of unkindness in another.
subject, when her mother sought to improve WoME.v are extreme they are better or worse
the incident to her daughter's edification and than men.
 40 godey's lady's book and magazine.

THE ORPHAN'S HOPE. Then a strange, sweet peace swept over my soul
As I knelt in prayer ere the rise of the sun.
BT EMMA C. D. COWEE. And a voice within, when
heard the bell toll,
I
Mr invalid mother aud I were alone, Said, *'
It 's His will be done."
all for the best
Out on the low porch where the bright sun shone My mother's voice I can hear no more
In the month of June "twas a lovely day
;
Nor her footfalls light on her chamber floor ;
;

With the vines o'eihead the wind was at play room looks gloomy and bare.
All within her
The sweet breath of flowers was borne on the breeze And empty and lone is her old arm-chair;
The katydid's song came forth from the trees But her home is a happier home than thia^
We heard the noise of the busy old mill A home where the angels dwell in bliss
Tliat 's over the brook, down under the hill And I humbly hope that bliss to share,
And from hill, and dale, and woodland would float As I trust ere long I shall meet her there.
Sweet notes from many a musical thruat.
My mother sat thoie in her old arm-chair,

Plyinfif
And
my
I was near,
needle and chanting an air
The Education op Women. There is a vast
deal which women have taught men, autl men
She loved to hear.
I suddenly paused in my joyous lay, have then taught the world, aud which the
And gazed on her face ;
men alone have had the credit for, because the
I thought that her cheek was paler that day. woman's share is untraceable. But, cry some
And I could trace of our modern ladies, this is exactly what we
Doep shadows of pain on her fair high brow
wish to avoid we can teach the world directly,
I know they are gone, yet they haunt me now.
;

"Oh, mother," I cried,

and we insist on being allowed to do so. If our
As I flew to her side, sphere has been hitherto more personal, it is
*'
Dear mother, I fear you are worse to-day !" because you have forced seclusion and restric-
" Aye ! 'tis true, my I am pofising away t
child,
tion upon us. Educate us like yourselves, and
A little time here, then the sexton's spade
we shall be competent to fill the same place as
Will hollow my grave, and I shall be laid
Away mould in the you do, and discharge the same duties. With
Of the churchyard old. extreme deference we do not think this is quite
Nay, child, do not weep, it is all for the best so we cannot 'believe what is now-a-days so
;

That this aching form should be laid to rest

broadly asserted, that the diflference between
Since the gloomy day that your father died,
the male and female intellect is due entirely
I have thought 'twere sweet to sleep by his side ;

Though my form will lie 'neath the churchyard sod, to difference of education and circumstauces,
My spirit will wing its way to its God. and that women, placed under the same con-
Dear child, prepare ditions as men, would become men, except in
To meet me there." the bare physical distinctions of sex. If the
"But, mother, the way do yon not fear education and lives of women have been so
The valley of Death, with its shadows drear ? utterly obliterative of such important qualities,
The coffin, the shroud, the pall, and the bier? itseems strange that they should have retained
And the awful gloom
Of the cold, dark tomb ?"
what they have got. No influences have suc-
"Nay, daughter, the Saviour will guide me through ceeded in making them stupid, in destroying
The shadowy valley the Saviour true, the spring and vivacity of their minds, their
Who alone can save. readiness, their facility, their abundant re-
His upholding arm can never fail.
sources. Yet their education has been little,
For He has passed through the gloomy vale.
And conquered the Death king, grim aud pale,
if at all, directed to foster these qualities more
Who ruled the grave. than those of reflection aud comprehensive
It is but for you, poor darling, I grieve thought. Reverse the question. Do not meu
Aye, it pains me sore, all lonely to leave in innumerable instances develop the charac-
My orphaned one :
teristicmasculine intellect iu all its force, to-
But He who numbers the sparrows that fall
tally irrespective of any training whatever?
Whose mercies extend to His creatures all
His will be done !
And is it supposed that any care, however
Pray to Him always, daughter, dear, pray !
sedulous, would make the mass of men rivals
He'll comfort and guide you when I 've passed away.' of the mass of women in those qualities which
Tliat beautiful night, ere the moon was set, we have indicated as specially belonging to the
The soul of my dearest friend had fled ;
latter? But it is fighting with shadows to
My agony wild I can never forget. combat such an assertion. The evidence of #
When they tore rae away from the form of the dead scattered, minute, appealing
facts against
!
it is
My bosom was filled with the deepest woe
Of light
;
in varied form to individual minds and expe-
I could see not a flickering ray.
Till those sweet words came, spoke a short time ago, riences ; but it is overwhelming to all but the
"Pray to Him, always, daughter, dear, pray !" most prejudiced minds.
 AUNT EDITH. A TALE OF THE HEART.
HASTI.V08 WELD.

" Why so verv thoughtfnl, Anna ?" to reward the generous with generous treat-
" I am woniiering, mother, how it could Iiave ment. Aunt Edith never gossips, and is never
happened that so pleasant and ladvlike a per- gossiped about. But she has been the nine
son as Edith Gray has always lived alone with days' wonder more than once in her time. Sup-
her niece in that romantic old house." pose I you her story while the twilight lasts.
tell

"Why," said the mother, smiling, "do you It is and will teach you
a story with a moral,
think betokens a poor prospect for certain
it that there may be women who have done a
young And do those young ladies fear
ladies
? great deal better than to marry."
that, notwithstanding they are pleasant and In the twilight, to her listening daughters,
ladylike, they may chance to live and die the mother told Aunt Edith's Story.
maidens, too?"
Anna did not attempt to parry her mother's " Aunt Edith is some ten years my senior. I

raillery or notice her sister's smiles, hut con- knew when I was a
her, child like you, as a
tinued : "Auntis so kind to Clara that
Edith charming young woman. She was a half-or-
we can would have made the hest
easily see she phan and her father's housekeeper, an only
of mothers. She has what one may term a child, and the supposed heiress of a large for-
domestic heart, and it is such a pity that it has tune. Her father's house, the same in which
been thrown .away !" she now lives, was made cheerful by her young
"It is well your father does not hear your friends. I was never better pileased than when

wise discourse, Anna. He says the present I could find an errand or a pretext to go see
generation of young girls read so many watery Miss Edith.
romances that they all talk like books, and not "Of course it was presumed that Edith would
the highest style of books, either." one day marry. For, whatever we may say
"Why, mother," cried the three sisters, in about it, the general expectation of young peo-
a breath, now rallying to the common defence. ple is that they shall do so, and the usual con-
But she laughingly begged their pardon, and clusion of their elders is that they may. Edith
returned to the subject of Aunt Edith. " It was never what is called demonstrative ; she
would be a great pity if Miss Gray's life had never liked to make a sensation or to become
been wasted, as yon seem to think. But there the subject of remark and though her early
;

are other uses for women in this world besides lifeabounded in circumstances which gave her
marriage. And there are opportunities, if we prominence in people's minds, this notoriety
will improve them, by which maiden ladies was not of her seeking. The quiet manner
nuay do more disinterested good than the joyful which she now has was always the manner of
mother of children. You have never heard Edith Gray.
Aunt Edith's history?" "Though she was silent, even to her dear,
" Never." dearest, and intimate, most intimate friends,
" Quiet .as she seems, and passionless, her of which most young girls have a half dozen,
life has been quite a romance. But her adven- more or less, it was discovered in due course
tures, and her fortunes and misfortunes, have of events and indications that Edith was affi-
not been of her own seeking. She was born anced. The matter had proceeded without any
iu that old house, but there are people who of the display of a public engagement, which
remember that she has not always lived in it. we sometimes see. Nobody knew day and
By the way, you never have heard Edith Gray date, if ever there was a day and date on which
talk about her neighbors except to speak well he first distinctly proposed, and she distinctly
of them?" accepted. But it was just as well understood,
"Never." notwithstanding, that they were to be married.
* "And the reason why her personal
that is Everybody said of him, 'Lncky fellow !' and of
untouched by a world which we
liistory is left her, 'What can her father do withont his
are apt to consider scandal-loving. There is a housekeeper?' That was the difficulty, and I
vast fund of good in poor abused human nature, happen to know, from circumstances not of her
after all a sense of justice, and a disposition
; | relating, that while she did accept her Fuitor,
4* 41
42 GODEY S LADT S BOOE AND MAGAZINE,

slie could not be persuaded to fix the day of by the popular judgment, and his visits to
the marriage. Edith became as frequent as ever. The village
"Just in the midst of the public speculation verdict instantly was spoken that he was a
on the affairs of the young couple, the lamenta- 'noble fellow.' I confess that I do not like
tions of the sentimental that youth must be such noble fellows I have no respect for .any
;

sacrificed to age, and the wonder of the imagina- man who has to feel the public pulse to learn
tive wliy her father did not find himself a wife his private duty. On a review of all the cir-
and release his daughter, there came in specu- cumstances, I am inclined to suspect that such
lation of another sort to disturb the movement was his case. But to make himself sure, and
of events. to guard against his possible feebleness of pur-
" 'The course of true love,' you know, 'ne- pose, and to secure the praise which he coveted,
ver did run smooth.' There are always foolish he again formally tendered his hand and for-
men in the world, and Edith's father claimed tune to Edith Gray.
liisright of admission into that large family. " Probably she understood his character. At
I have told you that he was wealthy. He had any rate,much to the surprise of those who
long retired from business, but could not, it did not know her, and not at all to the aston-
seemed, let well enough alone. He entered ishment of those who did, Edith offered him a
into some speculative adventures, and at sixty release from his engagement. He declined to
found himself a beggar. receive it, and the parties still stood upon their
"They still and her father,
lived on, Edith old relations. Edith, everybody said, would
in the old family mansion. It was said to be be married some time. Long engagements are
all that they had left in strict justice it was
; generally voted tedious.Nobody dislikes them
not theirs. It was mortgaged so heavily that worse than those who have no other interest in
the form of a sale would have netted nothing to them than the public right to talk. People
any one except the holder of the claim. And like a young couple to be married and have
he did not care to disturb an old friend and done with it, and make room for the next can-
respected citizen in his declining days. didates.
Edith patiently and with a daughter's love " It did not require many months for sorrow
gave herself to her father. I am afraid that and disappointed pride to kill Edith's father.
the old man did not fully appreciate the sacri- He was honored with a large funeral. Those
fice that his daughter made. He grew silent who felt conscious of having neglected him in
and morose. The house was not nearly now his reverses, pacified their consciences by fol-
so pleasant a place to visit, and the young folks lowing his remains to the grave. Edith was
were afraid meeting the moody countenance
of the subject of sympathy and commiseration for
of old Mr. Gray. Edith was outwardly, at which she was grateful, an^ none the less so,
least
the same as ever. Never having been that she did not understand it. People were
what is called 'lively,' she could not now grieving for her future. She was mourning
be said to be subdued but I thought there
; her father ; she thought they united with her
was an air of sadness on her sweet face, though in her grief, and was thankful and comforted.
she still met me, as all other friends, with a " She felt the full weight of the blow when
calm smile. The wise people said, of course, she was told, as tenderly as it could be done,
thatnow the match must be broken ofiF. I re- that the home which she had lived could no
in
member that I thought, as a child, how sad it longer be hers. She learned now that the
was And others shared the thought, and
I home of her childhood must come under the
placed Edith's sadness entirely to the credit of hammer, and that all the objects familiar to her
the interruption of her nuptial preparation. I must be sacrificed, to pay, as far as they might,
know now that such was not the case. It was the demands against an insolvent estate. Now,
her father's misfortune which oppressed her. how the wise women regretted that Edith had
" Though people had said the marriage of been so very punctilious and straight-laced in
Edith could not now take place, her silent, un- her ideas of duty If she had only consented
!

complaining course soon changed the fickle tide to the proposals made to her! If she were

of public opinion. People began to hint that only married now, the death of her father would
it was very small and mean for a man, under not have marred her prospects Twice she !

the circumstances, to break off the engagement. had deferred, if not refused, and nobody could Bj
There is no evidence that he had attempted expect that the offer would be renewed. It '

any such thing. Perhaps he had hesitated, was just one of those long courtships whieh
and grown somewhat cold. Kow he was moved everybody saw would come to nothing.
 AUNT EDITH. A TALE OF TUE UEART, 43

"Bat the lover seemed determiued to take
high rank amung earth's disinterested and
faithful ones, lie lost no time, after the death
of Edith's father, before he formally declared
himself to her again. Decent respect required
that the nuptials should be deferred for a sea-
son. Meanwhile the suitor reached the very
pinnacle of village fame for his magnanimity,
I have already said that this kind of excitement
illwell-doing is dangerous or rather that the
; haps it was only my fancy that thus saw him.
good conduct which comes from such motives
is scarcely to be trusted. But in this instance
any invention of the architect. In view of the
splendid mansion preparing for her, people now
began to consider Edith Gray one of the most
fortunate of women, and the bridegroom, in
prospect, one of the most generous and noble
among men. Still, Edith's quiet manner was
not changed, either to her lover, or to any one
else. And if he seemed to move with the style
ofone who considers himself a benefactor, per-
"Perhaps you cauitot understand what I
mean but I believe that speech is not by any
;

even the skeptics rejoiced that they were to be means the readiest mode of our understanding
disappointed. each other. When a person speaks, it is one
" Edith retired from the home of her birth, on a man or woman giving an opinion or concealing
Email income which had been secured to her from one. For you have heard the cynical remark
her mother's property, before her father's mis- that speech is a faculty given to us by which

fortune. was increased by the kindness of

It we conceal our thoughts. But even the most
some and has not only kept her from
friends ; common observer can gather, he knows not
want, but en.abled her to do good to the more how, the sentiment of a community on any sub-
needy, all her life. Woman's wants are easily ject without hearing their voices upon it. It

supplied, when, like Aunt Edith, they under- may be misunderstood. It may be taken for
stand how to put money to its full and highest more than it means, or for less. But we get
use. our ideas of 'public opinion' by a kind of un-
" A new
surprise was ready for the neighbor- spoken sympathy, and if we have not a very
hood. The advertised sale of Edith's home firm mind, are apt to be swayed perhaps to
did not take place. Her lover took house and our detriment. At any rate, our generous friend,
furniture at a fair appraisement, and Edith's Edith's lover, came to think that he was whole-
fears of the profan.ation of a public sale were hearted, magnanimous, self-sacrificing, and de-
averted. Now, indeed, it did appear as if one voted, to a fault. And she why she was not
of the impossible good genii of fairy tales had worthy of him. He was throwing himself away
stepped into human life. The gentleman was upon her ! How far he let this lofty idea of
almost canonized. The highest praise was himself appear to her, we never shall know.
accorded to him by the selfish, who decUared To all outward indications the affair was pro-
that they did not think there was such a ceeding as successfully as such a long courtship
romantic fool among living men. could and Edith was rather blamed, and he was
;

" Now Edith really could resist no longer. The rather exalted. Perhaps some persons espe-
marriage engagement became a fixed f.act for a cially .among the ladies, regarded him as r.ather
definite time. Carpenters, masons, painters, injured by the coldness of the calm beauty.
and other reuovaters were busy upon the old " Suddenly the village was startled from its
house. The new owner discovered a wonder- propriety by the announcement that .another
ful t.aste. Penjile had not supposed the place bride was to be mistress in the house prepared
capable of the improvements which transformed for Edith It was monstrous
I It was .an out- I

the Gray mansion and grounds, like magic. r.age It was an indecency
! There were no I

Perhaps he was guided by a better eye for words strong enough to express the indignation
beauty than his own. But if .Edith was his which was now aw.akened against the man who
counsellor, her maidenly delicacy prevented could be so base. The popular sympathy w.as
any appearance which could identify her with full in favor of Edith, the popular wrath furi-
the work. ous against her false swain. No wonder. Still,
"The place quite renewed its youth, and while everybody h.ad been saying that he w.as
stood forth quite an aristocrat among the houses too good and too kind by half, and that his
in the village. Any man with money or credit generosity was almost a wrong to himself, and
may erect quite an imposing pile of stone or quite a weakness, wh,at could a poor fool do
brick. But fine old trees, shaded avenues, and but take the public at its word, and show him-
time-honored associations cannot be created self a man ?
in a day and a noble old pile of a house judi-
; '
The fickle bridegroom fickle at last, after
ciously embellished cannot be approached by long constancy took the public, like another
44 godey's ladt's book and magazine.

Napoleon, by a coup d'etat. Before the popular neither to drown, die naturally, or go mad
indignation was ripe for the iuauguration of under the operation of the '
sundering of her
Judge Lynch, or even for the arrangement of heart strings.'
a charivari, he appeared in the village church " Years passed, and brought with them the
with his wife on his arm and a bridal party in evidence that Edith Gray's disappointment had
her train, occupying two or three pews. She shielded her from a worse misfortune. To be
was beautiful, even more so than Edith and, ; sure, having lost her first opportunity of matri-
poor frightened thing, what could she have mony, she remained single. This was not, be
known about it ? How was she to be blamed ? it noted, from necessity. Many an incipient
It was not her fault, and she must be received attachment she might have encouraged into a
courteously. And then she was so well con- declaration but she had a very lady-like but
;

nected !The name, position, and family of positive way of checking such demonstrations.
every one of the party were known through Some proceeded in spite of her, and these she
the whole town before anybody slept, except, resolutely putdown at the proper time, and
we may add, those who slept in sermon time. before the became so notorious as to
affair
There was some talk of 'audacity,' and 'bad cause remark. Having tested the thing once,
taste,' and 'worse principles,' through that she was determined on no more experience in
Sunday. But after the congregation had all that direction. Her friends tried in vain to
slept upon it, it was reason.ably perceived break her resolution, for, gentle as she was,
that so distinguished a connection Tpas not to she had still the firmness of a strong will, sup-
be ignored. The '
reception' included every- ported by a clear conscience. Her conduc^t
body and there were very few
in its invitations, vindicated her from the charge of want of feel-
indeed who did not respond. Nobody was ever ing. A person more demonstrative would have
better welcomed. Such is the value of popular made more outcry with less affection, and set-
opinion sometimes. Perhaps it was as well so. tled, after her first disappointment, upon some
"And poor Edith ? She did not die, as we one else.
very well know. Hackneyed phrases spoil the "I have said that Edith Gray's desertion by
gravity of a narrative, but really we can find her lover shielded her from a worse fate. The
nothing better than to say that 'she behaved man who had laid so grievous a load upon his
with a great deal of propriety.' It was a blow conscience sank under it. He was consumed
and a most mortifying one but Edith had the ; by the which Edith heaped upon his
coals
good sense to see that inasmuch as it was a head. If she had given him the excitement of
misfortune over which the world could give her a quarrel, if by a suit at law she had afi'orded
no relief, her only remedy was to conquer her- him opportunity to add insult to injury, the
self, and subdue her own chagrin. She made punishment would have been less severe. But
no public exhibition of her feeling of disap- her calm superiority and indifference, easily,
pointment, and neither sought nor encouraged and perhaps not altogether wrongly, construed
pity. Indeed I may say th.at she never per- into contempt, maddened him. She evidently
mitted it, for she must have been on very inti- considered that he had proved himself to be
mate and familiar terms with her who could not the man whom she had loved. He might
introduce a subject which she studiously and not have been willing to confess it, but the
carefully avoided. She visited her faithless punishment of Cain was upon him, and his
lover with no open censure, and to no few se- inwjird strife and struggles made him wayward
lect friends (including half the village) did she and fitful. His friends, and his family especi-
confide her denunciations. But while people ally, could never be sure of him one moment ;

looked that she should have gone into a de- jocose, even to rude mirth, he was the next
cline, or sunk into melancholy, become de- moody, even to moroseness. His fitfulness
mented, or in some other way have given tes- ended where that of men of small mind and less
timony how deep and awful was the blow, she principle is apt to end
in habits of intempe-
went quietly on her way, the same gentle Edith rance. You are ready to say that if he had
as ever. married Edith this would not have been. Per-
" The cold world soon came to the conclusion haps not but the man who is guilty of one
;

that Edith Gray's disappointment was no such meanness might have been of another. And
great matter, after all. The young and novel- the treacherous lover would, had he saved his
fi-d of ardent imaginations were quite indignant character until after he married, have probably
that the cold Edith Gray could so set all prece- proved a treacherous husband. So, indeed, he
dent and all genuine sentiment at defiance, as did, though not to Edith.
 AUNT EDITH. A TALK OF THE HEART. 45

" His property soon gave evidence of the
consequences of his habits. Other vices fol-
lowed in tlie train of tliat parent of vices, drunk-
enness. He gamed, and tried by hard-hearted
usury, and by questionable speculation, to
repair the inroads which extravagance had
made in his fortune. He was not without
friends, and as his course threatened to make
liim a charge upon them, they used their in-
fluence to provide him such a maintenance as
would avert this danger.
those instances of poetical justice which we
read of in books, but seldom see. Edith's father
had been ruined by heavy investments in a
corporate concern which fell from par to about
ten per cent. The stock was purchased at tliis
low rate by the creditors. By a turn of the
wheel of fortune, it came np again, and the
holders found themselves paid twice over. When
the old mansion was sold on behalf of the
government, the creditors of Mr. Gray bought
and tendered it to his daughter.

"As there existed such a positive necessity "A romantic woman would have said, No '
I

that he should be provided for, it required only a thousand times, not' with all the emphasis
a skilful use of party logic to demonstrate that of the last shilling novel. Edith slept on it,

he was precisely the patriot who should hold a rose calmly in the morning, wrote a note to her
place of trust under the government. The friends,and gracefully accepted the return
principle of '
rotation in office' decreed a va- which was their pleasure to make, no less
it

cancy. The old incumbent was rotated' out, '

and our unworthy hero was appointed. The
requisite securities were executed without difE-
cnlty. There is no more efficient qualification
than the necessity which may exist to
for ofBce
provide for a needy man who has powerful
I friends.
" Habits of extravagance are not easily laid
aside. Whatever may have been the office-
holder's desire or resolutions, he early fell into
the delusion of mistaking the public funds for
his own. With every quarterly
deficiency hewas compelled to conceal increased.
His securities took the alarm, and hinted to
Jiim, not obscurely, their suspicions.
it the possibility of detection in his
of trust, he was betrayed into crime of a deeper
dye. He embarked in a course of deliberate
which were continued for several years,
frauds,
I and ended at last in detection, and the peni-
than her advantage to accept. And so she
returned to tlie home of her childhood.
"The most curious incident yet remains.
Edith could not live alone in that great honse.
And she began to find that she should one day
grow old. She needed a young heart to be
growing into strength, when she should be
sinking into weakness. She desired a friend
in the city to find her a child of years so ten-
der, and of condition so destitute, that there
should be neither power to recollect, nor need
return, the to recall its parentage. Clara, whom you know
as Clara Gray, was that child, and is now her
attached and most dearly loved friend. Clara
Affrighted knows no nearer heart than Aunt Edith.
first breaches "The child h.-id been in her new home a
year and a sweet child she was when Aunt
Edith discovered that little Clara is the daugh-
ter of the faithless man who has been the
shadow over her life The mother is dead.
I

tentiary. "A romantic woman again would have in-

" have recently heard that the poor wretch
I stantly discarded the child of such parentage
lives still and hope that he has, in adversity,
; the reminder of her own early unhappiness.
better motives for reform than he had, iii his Edith looked on the babe as it slept. She
prosperity, for good conduct. You see, my dear looked, and wept, her sobs awakened the
till

cliildren, how weak a safeguard for our correct infant. The child stared in wonder, reached
conduct is mere regard forhuman opinion out her little arms, kissed aw.ay Aunt Edith's
and a taste for popular praise. And you see, tears, and stole so deeply into Aunt Edith's
too, th,at Aunt Edith Gray could have done heart that nothing will ever dislodge her.
worse than remain a single woman. The man my dear children, have done. You
" Now, I

of weak principles would have proved as weak seewhy I have withheld the father's name from
as her husband as he showed himself when the you. You will keep Clara Gray's secret and ;

husband of another. yon will cease to wonder, Anna, why Aunt

"I have not told you his name. Nor do I Edith never was married. It is strange but ;

intend to mention it. It is Aunt Edith Gray's I do believe that she is such a stoic or such a
secret and the regard of the community has
; Christian, rather that the tone of Clara's voice
Buffered oblivion to fall upon it. The wretched and the glance of lier eye, which remind those
wife went home to her friends, upon the arrest who knew him, of her father, make the child
of her husband. still dearer. Edith never talks of her feelings.
"And now happened, in real life, one of I only judge from her conduct."
46 godey's lady's book and magazine.

the echoes. of all the words that lips have ever

AN allegory.
uttered since Adam stood in the Garden of
3Y WILLIE E. PABOB Eden, keep the record of the lives of men. By
Once upon a time the King of Cloudland these shall they be judged and justified or
shadows together, in order
called his family of condemned."
to select oue for a special mission to earth. As the Shadow ceased, their lightning-like
Now this dominion over the
king, having speed carried them beyond the confines of Echo-
dark side of humanityhad sent an em-
only, Land, and lo they were in the heart of a city
!

liassy to the realm of Sunshine for a spirit of
that bright country to go with his own envoy
upon the proposed mission. The embassy had
returned, hence the gathering of the shadows.
Having chosen one suitable
the hum of whose traffic went unceasingly up-
ward night and day.
Through the streets of the city, the Shadow
and the Sunshine went. Here they saw a beg-
for his purpose, gar asking alms here a Shylock taking his
;

the king sent forth the Shadow and the Sun- pound of flesh here a mother clasping a dying
;

shine, saying to them as they went: "Go infant in her arms, and herself suffering the
through the world and be witnesses of the way pangs of starvation here a miser dying amid
;

in which men walk let the Sunshine

; for the his gold with no one to close his eyes or fold
world's brightness will then render it invisible his dead hands over his pulseless breast. They
take notice of their doings by day, and the went all through the homes that the daylight

Shadow hidden in the darkness watch them and the darkness covers, in the highways and
through the silence of the night. Bring back the byways of the great city; they looked into
a faithfnl record of all the joys and sorrows, the hearts of all those with whom they came
the hopes and disappointments, the pleasures in contact and saw there the secrets that were
and the pains of the children of men. Above hidden from the eyes of men. They saw smiles
allj discover the source from whence Jiotvs the most upon faces and the worm of agony in the heart
of evil wrought by human hands. Find out the belied the face every hour. They heard words
fountain whose waters are more bitter than all that lips uttered and the life falsified. They
the bitter waters of the world." saw the mantle of friendship cover the smould-
So, the king having dismissed them, the ering fires of revenge and hate. The wolf of
Shadow and the Sunshine journeyed together Guilt they beheld in closecommunion with the
toward the lower world. lamb of Innocence. Humanity in all its guises
While yet afar off they heard sounds resem- and in all its disguises in all its beauty and ;

bling distant thunder as they drew nearer the

; deformity ; in all the sweetness of its promise
air seemed to be full of cries of sorrow and and all the bitterness of its realization ; in all
wails of woe here and there mingled among
;
the glory that invests it, and in all the disgrace
the discordant note, songs of revelry and echoes that encircles was laid bare before them.
it,

of words of blasphemy. At these the Sunshine High and low, and near they went their
far
wondered, but the Shadow said: "In Cloud- way seeking the fountain whose waters, on the
land there is a legend that the words once ut- lips of mankind were bitterest of all seeking ;

tered upon earth die not with the sound of the the source of that evil wrought wholly by hu-
voice of the one that speaks them, but float on man means and influences and controlling the
through space forever and forever, undying many lives.
fate of so
witnesses of the good or the evil deeds of men. And when, having grown weary of witnessing
This, then, must be Echo-Land. Here the cry the they began their search for causes,
effect,
of Abel, as Cain struck him to the ground, they learned that Intempekance lay at the root
vibrates through the air ; here lingers the plain- of nearly all the pain, the sorrow and the suf-
tive appeal of Joseph as his brethren sold liim fering of human kind.
into Egypt, mingling with their words of won- "Surely," said the Sunshine, "this must he
der, when, years later, they saw the brother the fountain of which we are in search. The
they had sold a slave second only to the king waters of Marah were bitter to the taste but ;

upon his throne here David's song of triumph

; one drop from this fountain embitters a whole
cannot drown the accusing voice of the Pro- life."
phet as he tells the story of the one ewe-lamb They heard a man on the steps of the gallows
coveted by the owner of many flocks here ; trace his past history until he reached the turn-
Peter's oath of denial vibrates through all the ing point of life in his youth ;
and the wine-
arteries of the air here the dying words of the
; cup, with the serpent of Crime hidden in its

early martyrs testify in their behalf and here ; glowing bosom stood out as the first great cause
 AX ALLEGORY. 47

of all ; "Look not upon the wine," said tlio from their drunken stupor they awoke at the
Proverb, "when it is red ; wlien it givetU its God and their Judge."
bar of their
color In the cup ; for at the last it biteth like a And the Sunshine sai<l, as the Shadowceased
serpent, and stingeth like an adder." " Notmany years ago these two stood together
But this man, born of Christian parents, at the altar. There they vowed to love, clieri.-h,
heeded not the counsels of the wise man the ; and protect each other until death parted them.
him upon the slippery places
Spirit of Evil led They were young, beautiful, and beloved ; tlm
of and deserted him when most he needed
life, rainbow of promise spanned their future, and
a helping hand. Closer and closer the cordon beneath the sunny sky of love they walk, d
of crime gathered around him, until at last amid the roses whose thorns were all turned
the law of life for life sent him to his last ac- aside. At the bridal feast the wine-cup passp^l
count with the dying wail of his victim still around. Could the bride be pledged in it 1 y
ringing in his ear. Here the trail of the ser- all but the bridegroom ? Could they all drink
pent of Intemperance was over all the years of her health, and he, the chosen one of them all,
this man's life. refuse ? Heretofore he had touched not nur
The Sunshine and the Shadow could not forget tasted the cup but now now the moral cou-
;

this scene. " Pandora's box of evil,

Said one : rage that had held him up forsook him, and he
with Hope at the bottom, has its kindred box raised the J'titul Jirst glass to his lips. Tinie
of good, with sorrow beneath all the blessings passed on, but the first glass was not the last 1

it holds." Step by step, slowly at first, but surely, his

And the other replied " Say, rather. Intem- : feet travelledthe downward road ^rieniis ;

perance, for it seems to be the bane of life." failed and fortune forsook him. ^s his self-
They entered the habitations of the poor and respect was lost, hers vanished also and here, ;

the homes of the lowly, and saw there the full with the years of life scarce half told, behold
effects of the fearful vice. They were witnesses the end ISurely the waters of tliis fountain
to the prosperity of those who grew rich by are more bitter than all the other bitter wati-rs
dealing out destrnction to their fellow-men. of the world. Surely, of all sources from whence
Said the " I went into a cottage by
Shadow : flows evil wrought by human hands, this was
the wayside around were the signs of ne-
; all the greatest of all."
glect iu its outward aspect within it was still ; They went out of the city into the country,
worse. There was no fire on the hearthstone, and through the land. They saw war and its
no carpet on the floor, no bread in the cupboard. desolations the battle-field and its scenes of
;

The father lay drunk in one corner of the room, carnage ; strong men falling as the grain falls
with the gin bottle still in his hand. The mo- before the sickle the reaper, as cannon
of
ther lay near by, her senses steeped in liquor, boomed, and shells burst, and bullets whizzed
utterly unconscious of her degradation and through'the smoke and sulphur-laden air.
shame. On a heap of straw in another corner They went where the pestilence raged and ;

lay an infant whose lips had just uttered life's saw young and old, strong and weak, the
last wail. They would open no more by rea- beautiful and the loving, fall at the touch of
son of cold, or hunger, or pain. And the pa- the destroying angel.
rents knew it not they lay there insensible
; They floated over the ocean, and, piercing the
for hours then the woman rose up and would
; veil of the waters, saw in the bosom of the sea
have taken the bottle from her husband's hand the wrecks of ships, and the dead over whose
to drink again from the fountain whose bitter grave no tombstone will ever rise.

waters had already turned to gall all the sweet- They saw upon land and sea
disasters
ness that clusters around the holy name of earthquakes swallowing up cities, and the hur-
wife and of mother. The attempt awoke him, ricane destroying armadas. But more than
and he would not yield, but cui-sed her with a all, and beyond all these results of the years,

curse. Nay, more he rose up and struck her

; they saw and realized that the victims of Intem-
to the floor, and then kicked her as she lay perance outnumbered them all. Outnumbered
there helpless. Nor was this all I this, the the victims of the sea, of pestilence, and of
crowning-point of infamy in man ! the lowest war. Directly or indirectly the curse of the
depth of woman's degradation Reeling to ! wine-cup gathered them in. Young and old,
and fro, he struck against a table on which the wise and the simple, the good and the bad,
stood a lighted candle he and it fell to the
; the weak and the strong. It filled cells in pri-

floor, and in a little while the flames enveloped sons, wards in hospitals, and graves in Tot-
the house and its living and dead inmates, and ters' fields. It broke the hearts of brothers and
 48 godey's ladt's book and magazine.

sisters, mothers and children, and brought Though I hint of its appearing,
Faintly of its feebler part,
down the gray hairs of fathers in sorrow to the
Tet I may not tell the glory '

grave. It caused more tears to flow than

When my poem fills my heart.
would suiBce for a second deluge. It severed
Then oh leave me to its beauty.
. bridal vows, broke up household shrines, de-
To its fond and soft embrace,
stroyed the hopes of youth, embittered the To its white and pearly bosom,
memories of declining years. It touched, and To its smiling, loving face ;

the ashes of desolation followed ; it called, and To its sweet blue eye of kindness,
its siren song brought countless victims. No To its wealth of shadowy hair,
Lurlei of the sea ever sang so sweetly or so To her fingers playing freely
With my locks that mingle there
fatally. Like the sexton in the play, its vic-

tims Intemperance "gathers in, gathers in," To her unrestrained caresses.

to a grave above which Resiirgam " I will rise
To her chaste and tender kiss.
To her flood of all that blesses.
again" is not written. To her depth of all that 's bliss
Depth that hath no deeper measure,
The Shadow and the Sunshine having wit-
For my very poem lives
nessed all these things, returned to Cloudland, Throbbing with the equal pleasure,
and stood before the king. To one he put this It receives and gives.

question " Did you find the source from whence

:
For thou, Mary, art my poem,
flows the most of evil wrought by human And amid all toil and strife
hands V
To the other he said " Tell me the :
Let me clasp thee, pretty volume.
Closer, closer, darling wife.
name of the fountain whose waters are more
As thy presence makes thee dearer.
bitter than all the other bitter waters of the
'
And thine absence makes it known,
world.
Here, if sighs could bring thee nearer,
And each said unto the king: "The evils of Wouldst thou ever be my own.
Intemperance are the greatest of all evils, and
its waters are the bitterest of all the bitter
waters that tiow from poisoned fountains in the Home AFTER Bdsiness Hours. The road along
valleys of the children of men." which the man of business travels in pursuit
of competence or wealth is not a Macadamized
one, nor does it ordinarily lead through plea-
sant scenes and by well-springs of delight. On
the contrary, it is a rough and rugged path,
LINES TO MY POEM.
beset with "wait-a-bit" thorns, and full of pit-
BT VAN BUBEN DEN8I. OW. falls, which can only be avoided by the watch-

There are some that hear no masic, ful care of circumspection. After every day's
Scent no flower, see no sky ;
journey over this worse than rough turnpike
Better thus thao live no poem
road, the wayfarer needs something more than
In our little lives, and die.
rest; he requires solace, and he deserves it.
Nay, we 're born in the ideal
He is weary of the dull prose of life, and athirst
God, the poet, ne'er expressed ;

Mother knows no sweeter sonnet for the poetry. Happy is the business man who
Than the infant at her breast. can find that solace and that poetry at home.

Though its words "be all of heaven,

Warm greetings from loving hearts, fond glances
"Which we little understand. from bright eyes, the welcome shouts of chil-
Like the song the stranger singeth dren, the many thousand little arrangements
In the tongue of fatherland. for our comfort and enjoyment that silently tell
When I listen to the echoes. of thoughtful and expectant love, the gentle
Murmuring back from hours gone by. ministrations that disencumber us into an old
In my life I hear a poem, and easy seat before we are aware of it these ;

In my life a joy have I.

and like tokens of affection and sympathy con-
As some mortal caught in vision. stitute the poetry which reconciles us to the
Views the bowers of heavenly bliss Think
prose of life. ye wives and
of this,
All hut this may tell, returning,
But his lips are sealed to this
daughters of business men
Think of the toils, !

the anxieties, the mortifications, and wear that

So I cannot tell my poem
That like high auroral fire,
"When I run and climb to grasp
Rises farther still
fathers undergo to secure for you comfort.able
it.
homes, and compensate them for their trials by
and higher. making them happy by their own firesides.
 SNOWED UP.
3T UARY W. JANVKIN.

CHAPTER I. running through the thoroughfares were crowd-

" SccH a storm enough to weary one to
!
ed to overflowing; State Street wore a forlorn
death!" exclaimed Florence Hunter, a haughty look curbs lone broke rstakiugshelterin-doors,
belle and beauty of the Trimouutain City, news-boys sparse and quiet, and 'Change trans-
pacing her elegantly appointed chamber with formed into a sort of "waste howling wilder-
impatient step, pausing now and then to part ness ;" while above the brick walls, towering
the ricli curtains draping the window, and peer chimneys, and church towers of the old Puritan
forth into the night. " Three days of snow, city folded the gray mantle of the storm, and

and no abatement yet No shopping, scarcely

!
"still fluttered down the snow."

a caller, and now a prospect of the trains lieing
snowed up, and his not ariiviug !" And, with
an air quite at variance with the customary
repose of her manner, she let fall the heavy
folds of brocatelle, and crossed the apartment
"Dear me, Florry, another tedious evening
at home !"
and the speaker, Mrs. Hunter, a
showy-looking woman of forty-five, entered her
daughter's chamber. " What shall we do to
pass the time, unless Holt or Morgan drops in ?

to the crimson velvet covered arm-chair drawn Thet/ are better than solitude for John says;

tip before the grate. the r.ail roads are blocked up. and Everett can-

By every appointment of that luxurious not arrive to-night. What conlrl have possessed

boudoir the Persian carpet, soft as woodmoss him to hurry ofl" to that stupid country-seat
damask and
to the tread, the costly falls of silk of his before he came to Boston? And now
lace, the elegant chairs and couches, the oval this storm will detain him from us some days
pictures leaning from the walls, and the num- longer!" And Mrs. Hunter's voice was full

berless articles of vertu scattered around it of pique and dis.appointment.

was plain to see that this was the home of "Oh, mamma, Leonard Everett prefers
if

opulence and by the curve of the city belle's

;
the rustic attractions of Ridgewuod' to town,
'

scarlet lip, the arching of her stately throat, let him enjoy tliem !" replied Florence, with a
the expansion of her perfectly-chiselled nostril, languid intonation that quite contradicted her
and the regal carriage of her small Grecian former impatience when alone, for she did not
head with its massive braids of jetty hair, it care to confess, even to her mother, how eagerly
Were easier yet to vote her haughty as she was she had looked forward to the arrival of their
beautiful. visitor from his long absence.
It was, in truth, a long and wearisome storm "Prefers! Why, Florry, you don't suppose
that had for those three days been an unwel- that Everett has returned from Europe to bury
come visitor to many in the bnsy city beside himself on th.it horrid farm of his ! I never
the belle and beauty. Miss Hunter not a wild, ; cokW see the attractions of the country, even
CUibustering expedition of the allied powers of in summer, though one must go into it, to be
rain, sleet,and wind, which often sweep down snre, if one is at all fashionable ; but give im-
upon our coast in fury, wreak their sudden a first-class hotel at a watering-place, or some
vengeance, then as hastily retire but a con- ; other resort where our set go, and farmers are
tinued, pitiless siege of snowHakes, whose welcome to their fields, and grass, and all that.

countless squadrons poured down so steadily You don't imagine Everett wilt settle down an-l
that all the earth and air was one parade field practise his profession iu his native town,
for their white plumes. Merchants, passing Florry ?"
threngh their almost deserted stores, or looking " He will make known liis intentions to us
up from their lean ledgers, growled at the storm when he arrives, mamma," replied Miss Flo-
that kept the gold at home in ladies' purses, rence, with a well-aflfected enuuitd air. "In
instead of in their money-drawers clerks, ; his letters to me from abroad he did not meu-
lounging over orderly counters, folded their tiou that arrangement."
arms instead of webs of silk or Cashmere reps, "Which, of course, you would never consent
for no fair customers disturbed their goods ;
to, Florry," went on her mother, impertuiba-
there were few pedestrians abroad, for the side- bly, and complacently adjusting the folds <if
walks were deep in snow, and the horse-cars her rich silk, for she was quite used to the

TOL. LXVI. 49
50 godet's lady's book and magazine.
indifference of her onlj and indulged child.
"After your marriage he will, of course, take
a house here as for his profession, he will do
; her assumed calmness vanished, aud, with
as he likes about practising but he has wealth ;
enough to live without it. As Doctor Everett's
wife, you will be the euvy of all our set,
Florry !"
" Wliy, mamma, you seem
settled thing, when you remember I am not
ajfianc/e yet," said Florence, inher soft, rip-
pling voice, that veiled well her own wildly
beating heart.
"Florence, all our plans liave worked well,
so and why should we look for defeat now ?
far,
As your father's ward, Leonard Everett became
more intimate in our family than any other
young man, an intimacy I took pains to encou-
rage after your father's death and his own
majority and succession to his fortune it was
to attach him to you that I educate<l you to
l>Iease him, and procured you the masters he
recommended it was to leave you a fair field
; winter here ere you went abroad, that which
that I sent her away, that dependant on your
father's bounty"
and here the woman's eye
flashed d.arkly, while the lip of the haughty
brunette in the crimson velvet chair smiled
triumphantly as she as-ented to her mother's
gaze. " It has been my daily thought for
tliese Last three years, during Everett's ab-
sence iu Europe, to anticipate the hour of his
return, when he would ask j'our hand aud
now, Florence, your own beauty and tact must
do the rest, for if you let Leonard Everett,
with his fortune and position, slip through
your hands, you will never see such another
eligible offer."
"Nor do intend lo fail in so doing, dear
I tell
mamma, let me assure you !" was the beauty's
quiet answer, complacently admiring her ex-
quisitely small slipper, resting on the velvet
footstool before the grate.
chere mire, don't fe.ar iu
Florence I"
" I thought you had a portion of
and shrewdness, Florry!" said Mrs. Hunter,
well pleased at her daughter's answer.
there cau be no such thing as failure,
decide so. Why, Fred Holt, ready to
there 's
offer himself at any moment, if you but show
him the slightest encouragement or Alfred
Morgan, either of them considered very eligible
by any of our friends. But neither possesses
Doctor Everett's fortune, a no small considera-
tion, reared with such tastes as you have been,
Florry besides, he is handsome, gentlemanly,
;
and refined. My hopes are high for you,
daughter," said Mrs. Hunter, rising.
"Thanks, mamma," replied the haughty
beauty, indolently. But when left alone, all
flashing eyes, she sprang up and paced the floor
of her room, as if she would throw oflF all false
restraint. " Wealthy, handsome, gentlemanly,
and refined all true, my dear lady mother
to regard it as a but you did not think it necessary to add that
his I love him Yes, Leonard Everett, cold aud
!
proud to the beautiful and accomplished wo-
men you have met in your wanderings, as I
know from the tone of your letters from abroad,
cold as you have hitherto been to me, my
beauty has ripened vainly in these four years
if it do not weave a spell to biing you to my
feet I"
and she flung an appreciative glance
into the toilet mirror, swinging in its elabo-
rately carved frame. "Cold to all, I said,"
; she went on, musingly, while her eyes flashed
lambent fire for a moment; "and yet I have
not forgotten that little episode of your last
might have ripened into something serious had
not we my sharp, shrewd mamma and I sent
the artful piece away, that month, after papa's
sudden death. But, Edna Moore, with your
blonde face and blue eyes, for you were lovely,
enact the rCle of artlessness as you might, the
drama was not played out here. It would
have done well enough to have had you with
; us, had we kept you out of sight but one can-
;
not pass off their kin always as governess or
sewing-girl, aud fatlier did liave such queer
fancies about supporting his poor relatives !
So, when Everett became iutei'ested enough to
inquire for you one day, it was a pleasure to
him you had proved ungrateful, and
that
left our protection. Certainly you did talk
shockingly for a person in your position to
mamma that day we parted Where are you
!
"So, prythee, ?a now, I wonder? Aud yet why should I give
the least fur your you a passing thought, Edna Moore ? It is
suiScient that you were swept aside long ago,
my spirit aud now Leonard Everett is returned, aud ?y
triumph will soon be complete."
"And
if you
CHAPTER II.
A January day was drawing to a close in the
1
;
town of Dentford a country region where dwelt
a hospitable, kind-hearted, and intelligent farm-
ing community. The landscape might have
been pleasant enough on a fair day, under the
influence of a bright winter's sun; but the
twilight was closing early, with a thick fall of
snow that had not ceased since its commence-
 SNOWED UP. 51

mrut the preceding day and broad fields,

; entry, and would have fallen but for the friendly
bounded by straggling stoue walls, dark cliinipa aid of Mrs. Brooks, who, seeing her approach
of and lieulouks, that stood like patient
firs from the window, had opeued the door of the
hooded monks ou the hill to the west and the keeping-room.
Weather-beaten houses, with their broad, low "The land! what ails you? are you sick.
chimneys, and long lines of outbuildings all Miss Ivinaf" asked that good woman, placing
seemed dim and weird-like through the veiling a chair, aud hastening to remove the clo;ik
snow. anil hood flecked with the soft clinging snoiv.
With the early twilight that shut in the " Speak, child, for you do look dreadful ! Ain't
winter's afternoon, the door of a little red a-goiu' to be taken down, I hope !"

schoolhouse, perched on the summit of a wind- " My head was so dizzy !" said the teacher,

swept, treeless rise of ground (after the fashion in a faint, sweet voice. "It is a little better
of our Puritan ancestors, who always selected now it will pass off, I think 1 Perhaps a cup
such localities for the site of the meeting or of your nice tea will make me feel belter.

schoolhouse), was thrown open with a wide Don't look so alarmed, Mrs. Brooks I"
swing ; and a troop of noisy small urchins, "Scairt? I ain't the least bit scairt. Miss
followed by the great boyS and girls of almost Edna but them cheeks of yourn, crimson as
;

adult size, emerged into the open air. With pinies and hot as fire, ain't a-goiu' to deceive
book satchels in band, or the little tin pails me you 're feverish, that's sartain ; and it 11

that bad held the dinner for their nooning, take another kind of tea than "i'oung Hyson to
they bent their steps homeward the boys des- cure you. I declare, I kept thinking of you
canting on the prospect of building a snow fort this afternoon and I went up into the gari-et,
;

when should ''fair off," and easing the ex-

it
uberance of their spirits let loose after the
school-rom confinement by pelting each other
with snowballs hastily manufactured from tiie
damp, clinging drifts through which they waded.
When the last scholar bad departed, "the
and fetched down some pennyr'yal to steep fi>r
you to-night, for I said to Jacob: 'This'il
cure up the Mistress's cold and sore throat.'
Now, set right up to the fire in this cushioned
chair, aud put your feet on this stool while I
take off them wet overshoes and then, after a ;

mistress" a young aud lovely girl, with such light supper if you feel like eating I '11 steep
purely transparent complexion, tender blue the pennyr'yal, and make you such famous 'arb
eyfc shaded by long brown eyelashes, and a tea as '11 bring you down bright as a dollar in
grace of air that betokened her the fine lady the morning. We ain't a-goiu' to have you
"the mistress turned the key in the great iron down sick, while Aunt Betsey Brooks knons
padlock that hung against the weather-stained how to make pennyr'yal tea!" said the brisk,
door wrapped her cloak more closely about
: motherly woman, cheerily. "Land! what little
her; and turned her 'steps down the drifted feet you have got. Miss Edna!" she added, re-
highway to Farmer Brooks' dwelling the great, moving the teacher's rubbers, and placing the
square, old-fashioned farmhouse, with its pop- footstool.
lar trees in the front yard, aud the long gate " I am sorry to give you so much trouble,
that barred it from the road. Mrs. Brooks !" said the te.acher, faintly smil-
For a quarter of a mile " the mistress" kept ing, yet pressing her hand ou her aching fore-
on, until she turned up into the lane leading to head to still its throbbing.
her boarding-house. As she neared the door, " Trouble ? don't say that word agin, chiM !"
she felt unaccountably ill and dizzy. For two cried the little woman with mock asperity.
days past, she had complained of a slight cold, " Who 's a-goin' to take keer of us when we 're
but that afternoon, while busy with tiie duties sick, if we ain't willin' to do the same turn by
of the school-room, sudden ague fits had sent others?" and, stirring the maple clefts th.at
lier to the great wood fire blazing up the wide- burned in the great cook-stove, she filled the
mouthed chimney that filled one side of the old tea-kettle, then drew out the table for supper.
schoolhouse, and then, as suddenly, hot flushes " Yes, that 's what I often tell .lacob," she con-
shot through her veins, that sent a splendid tinued, haying the snowy cloth, setting out the
crimson to her delicate cheeks and lips, and well-preserved, old-fashioned pink china that
fired her eyes with unnatural brightness, till she used in honor of " boarding the mistress,"
she was glad to lean her foreliead against the and cutting generous slices of snowy bread,
cool window-pane for relief. Now, as she crossed nice cake, and rich yellow cheese. " 1 tell
the threshold of lier iKiarding house, a blind bim, that what we do unto others '11 be pretty
Vertigo seized her, and she stumbled into the sartaiu to fall in our own dish some (lay aud ;
52 godey's lady's book and magazixe.

duty, nothing more, ought to point out the

if bustling about her table. " Now drink this
road every huniau creeter to walk iu. Not
for cup of nice hot tea, while I call Jacob."
that I need to think of any such reason for When the good woman returned fiom sum-
looking after you. Miss Edna for I told Jacob, moning her husband, and the worthy farmer
the fust day you come uuder our roof, a year appeared iu the cheerful keeping-room, the
and a half ago, that I should be sure to take tea still stood untasted before the teacher.
you into my heart to fill the place of my poor "Land! Can't you touch it, child ? You are
lost Annie!" and here Mrs. Brooks' voice real sick. must have you go to bed ri^ht
I

trembled a little. "She was eighteen, when away! and in a warm room too," and when,
she died and your brown hair and blue eyes
; an hour later, kind-hearted Mrs. Brooks re-
always bring her up before me." turned from the chamber appropriated to "the
"You are very kind to me and, if you are ; mistress," she said to her husband, with a
dattghterless, / am motherless !" The words serious face: "Jacob, I don't know but the
fellimpulsively from the teacher's lips and, ; child 's going to have a settled fever. I shall

with them, came also a burst of tears and little do my best to break it up but if she isn't
;

sobs that shook her frame. Ill and weary better by to-morrow, we 'd better send after
kind friends among whom her
iirateful for tlie Doctor Fenner. SIA) 's had a bad cold two or
lot
had placed her yet oh for a mother's hand three days, and going to the schoolhouse in
to be laid tipon her aching forehead a mo- ! this storm hasn't helped her any."
ther's breast whereon she might pillow herself " I should have gone over after her to-night
to sleep 1 but neighbor Stone had my horse to go to mill,
"There, there, don't cry, child You're I and didn't get back iu season. I hope Miss
tired and feverish, and homesick don't cry, ; Edna '11 be better in the morning," said the
dear!" said Mrs. Brooks, soothingly. farmer kindly.
" No, not homesick ;' you forget that I have
'
" I hope so, too but she seems to talk kind
;

no 'home' to piue fori" replied the girl pre- of rambling, and keeps complaining of her
sently, calming her emotion, but suffering the head. I sha'n't leave her to night !" replied
tears to still roll down her burning cheeks. Mrs. Brooks with anxious face, returning to the
"But I can't help this longing for my dear
chamber where her scarlet cheeks upon the
mother ; and when I get more wearied than
white pillow the sick girl tossed and moaned
usual, or a little ill as to night, the old feeling in the wanderings of fever, and called constaiftly
comes over me too strong to be conquered." for her "mother" with plaintive cries.
"And I wouldn't try to put it down, dear !

Cry as much as you 're a mind to it 's a ;

blessed thing that we can cry sometimes!"

exclaimed the sympathizing woman, who came
CHAPTER III.

and stroked the girl's hair with a tender hand.
" Dear how hot your head is
! I '11 fetch a
cloth wet in cold water to lay on it. There,
don't feel so bad You 've got some good !
friends iu Dentford, at any rate Squire Stan-
niford was praising your teaching the other day
to the minister, and he said our district had
the best mistress of any in the county. So you
can stay here all your days, and keep school,
and live with us unless sotnebody should carry
you otf to live in another home!" added Mrs.
Brooks, as if previously forgetting such a pos-
" The railroads blocked up by these moun-
! tain drifts, I must settle myself coutently to
another week at Ridgewood !" said the owner
of thehandsome country-seat bearing that title,
I walking from the window of his library on the
evening of the same day when we first looked
iu upon Florence Hunter so impatient in her
city home. " What to do, to pass away these
lagging hours, is thenext question, " stretching
his handsome limbs indolently before the blaz-
ing wood fire, and patting his slippered feet on
the polished fender. " Books ? I don't feel

sibility. like reading to-night. Ruminating over my

"Which isn't the least likely," said the travels f Thatvery well for a week, but one
's

teacher, after a long pause in which she had gets tired of solitude, and wants a friend io talk
striven for calmness your ; "the last part of to about the Tyrol, the Vatican, and the Rhine.
sentence, I mean, Mrs. Brooks. So you per- Correspondence? Well, none of my old chums
ceive that the chances are for your keeping me know I 've returned, so none will be expecting

the re.<i of my life." letters from me thus, like Othello, vaj occupa-
;
'

"There! tint sounds natural to hear you tion' seems to be departed from me. SppRking of
talkiug cheerful again !" said Mrs. Brooks, letters, though and, by the way, I quite forgot
 SXOWED UP. 53

that, if the trains are snowed np, they won't be kitchen. " It is not your good wife, I lielieve,

likuly to carry any muils speaking of letters, whose pleasant face I remember with distinct-
here 's Miss Florence Hunter's last, received ia ness,who needs my services ? So I think
Europe adflicalely penned, intereslingepistle, Hannah stated," lie added, as they weut out
wliiuh I duly replied to before setting loot on into the storm together.
tiie Arabia for luy homeward passage !" and " No, Doctor ;hale and hearty, and
Betsy is

he ]>ullr<l a daintily superscribed envelope from brisk as ever, tliaukee But the bchoolmislre.-J !

his pocket-case. "They're expecting me, we have boarding with us seems pretty sick,
tliere in Boston
and, somehow, it seems im- and Betsy thinks is bordering on to brain fever."
pressed on my mind that Mrs. Hunter is also " I hope it will not result so serioimly as
expecting me
myself to Florence. Hand-
to offer that, Mr. Brooks," said Everett, plunging ou
some, accomplished, sought after in society it through the drifts which the two men encoun-
would seem a desirable connection ; and why tered better ou foot than they could have-pos-
should I not be thinking seriously of settling siblydone in a sleigli and after a long walk ;

down in life f I 've had my wanderings, my they arrived at the farmhouse.

dreams, and my visions ; why not now content The greetings with little Mrs. Brooks over,
myself henceforth with realities, and become a Doctor Everett was shown to the chamber (.f

quiet, domestic Benedict? Florence Hunter is his patient, where lay the sick girl, moaning in
liandsome, and 'the style!' I am wealthy the fever delirium, and looking brilliiintly
not particularly ugly, I flatter myself and with beautiful. The young physician started in
some traits that are not undesirable for a mar- surprise, for he had not anticipated any other
ried man ; she would make a dignilied mistress than the usually accreilited type of country
to my house, and I should render her iis/)pc<, school -mistress
an elderly, sharp-featured
if not lore. But '
love, ' love ah, that 's a word spinster; and he involuntarily stepped to tlid

that has no business on my lips I Every m.an bedside, smoothed the rich golden liair that
has his dreams, I suppose, of the woman he floated out over the pillow, laid his cool hand
would like to take to his heart a sweet, blue- upon her burning forehead, and said, in a deep,
eyed, gentle girl, who would fit into his being kind tone " My poor child !"
:

she became a part of himself. I had a vision

till His voice for a moment arrested the wander-
of such a face once, there at Mrs. Hunter's. ing reason of the sufferer doubtless it touched ;

Who would have belived that young thing so ill-
tempered and unworthy ? But ah, well Ima-
gination has many and thirty years
delusions
should bring one a wiser head than to trust in
them. When this tedious New England storm
a chord of memory, for she looked up into his
I face with almost a look of recognition in her
; bright blue eyes ; then, putting herliands sud-
denly to her forehead, cried out sharply: "I
know you, Leonard Everett But they will not I

is over, I will go down to Boston, and otTer my let you stay They hate me if you look at me,
!

hand .and fortune and heart, if I possess the or speak. Go away go They are watching ! !

article, to Florence Hunter!" me with their cold eyes !"

" Doctor, Farmer Brooks is at the door "Good heavens, what does this mean?"
waded over from his farm through all the drifts murmured the young doctor. " Her eyes, her
and wants to know if you won't go over with hair, her voice Mrs. Brooks" turning ab-
!

liim to visit the school-mistress, who's sick. ruptly to her "this young lady's name ?"
He 's been for old Dr. Fenner but he 's gone ;
" Edna Moore. She has been our school-
to see another patient, five miles off; and he mistress a year 'n a half. You must have
heard you had come back, so thought p'r'aps known her before yon left the country. Doc-
you "d go." tor?" answered Mrs. Brooks, with surprise on
" Certainly, Hannah. Ask Mr. Brooks in, her kind face.
and say that I'll go with him directly," re- " Edna Moore ! I knew it ! ITer eyes and
plied the young man, starting up and while ; golden hair I Yes, Mrs. Brooks ; I met this
the maid returned with his answer, he took poor child once, long ago," he answered. Then,
down a heavy overcoat, drew on his long boots, bending down, he softly said " I am glad you :

and soon stood ready. " Rather a surprise to know me, Edna. Do Mrs. Hunter and Florence
me, Mr. Brooks, to receive 'a call' to-night, for know you are ill ?"
my professional duties have been laid aside The question roused her into strongest ex-
these few years back but I think I can rub ; citement for a moment, which then gave way
up sufficiently to be of help to you, if the to an air of intense fear. " Don't tell them for
case be not too severe," he said, entering the the world!" she cried, looking around with
S
54 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

frightened gaze. " Tljey are cold and cruel.

I will not call lier aunt that icy woman ; and
THE MODERN MANIA.
Florence is too proud to call me cousin. Don't These are eminently the days of classifica-
tell them I am here ; they will come and in- tion. The scientific professors continue to call
sult me
with their haughty tongues, and take helpless bits of creation by hard Latin names,
you away from me. Don't call them !" And on the discovery of the smallest peculiarity in
she clung to his hands with strong, feverish formation, habits, or habitat. But this learned
grasp. body are no longer allowed to have the fun all
" Land Miss Bdna never told me a word
! to themselves. The mania for classification has
abouPthese folks that treated her so! You penetrated into every walk and department of
don't suppose it 's true, Doctor? She 's wan- life. In vain our modest friend from the coun-
dering," said good Mrs. Brooks. "And yet try hopes to make all her purchases at one of
may4)e it 's so, for she seemed alone in the our palatial establishments, which she bash-
world lost her mother when she was young
; ;
fully enters, memorandum in hand. The clerks
and she said once a kind uncle educated her, politely smile at her demands for buttons,
but died just after she had left school; and fringes, colored zephyrs, and knitting-needles.
then she 'd stop, and I never liked to ask her She must push )ier way among the crowding
too muoh." throng on the sidewalks, and explore shop win-
" The poor girl has evidently struggled with dows and sign-boards until she can find the
many trials," replied the Doctor, evading a stronghold of the merchants whose peculiar
more direct reply. Then, setting his teeth privilege it is to deal in these articles. Weary
hard togetlier while he mixed a soothing and heart-sick, how she longs for the dear old
draught for the sufferer, he mentally exclaimed: store of by-gone days, wheie cheese and china,
"Proud Mrs. Hunter, beautiful, hanghty Flo- candy and cashmere, buttons and broadcloth,
rence, I begin to sift this matter. Your story pins and potatoes were not ashamed to keep
.and this poor girl's scarcely agree. If truth be each other company I

at the bottom, I will not leave Dentford till it Fair one, hush thy murmuring These are I

be ascertained." the days of classification. In the enlargement

What need to prolong the recital of Leonard of trade has necessarily divided itself into
it

Everett's lingering there at Dentford, the most various departments. If you but lived in the
i)f which time was passed beside his beautiful city, the very speciality of which you complain
patient ? Enough that, when the fever spell would be to you a source of comfort. You
was broken, another spell was woven about should have heard the world-renowned Prof. G.
both physician and convalescent the sweet, discoursing the other day on the diversity of
charmed bond of love and tlie gentle orphan, ; organs in the highest stages of the animal cre-
who had been thrust out from her worldly, ation How ignoble and insignificant he made
!

envious relatives, was received into a tender the unfortunate polype appear, with its one
home, wherein she was henceforth to be shielded organ doing the work of all, and that work but

always the noble lieart of the master of Ridge- the simplest digestive process amere stomach,
wood. Doctor Everett did not make the visit existing for the sole purpose of consumption !

to Mrs. Hunter and Florence, impatiently (Have we no human polypes, whose life has
.-iwaiting him home but sent a
in their city ; no better end or aim ?) Society is, after all,
letter instead, announcing "that the duties of but a great animal, and in its savage beginning
Ids profession detained him at Dentford." But it has but few departments. The Indian thinks
when he did take the trip thither, his lovely it no shame to be his own butcher, tanner, or

young wife was his compai/non du I'oyaye ; and
iheir rooms were at the " Winthrop," instead
of their aunt's elegant mansion. To portray
the anger and mortification of Florence and her
mother is not iu the power of this pen let it
hut-builder, though he may be the chief of his
tribe. But let civilization and progress once
have their way, and what a division of labor,
what a development of individual talent at
; once takes place Here is free play for the
!

only add that the happy bridegroom has yet idiosyncrasy of every man ; a chance to deveUi))
never found cause to regret that January storm the great truth that every child of Adam is the
by which be was "snowed up" at Dentford, possessor of some peculiar inner treasure, and
the storm which won him his bride. the wisely fashioned instrument for some spe-
cial The notion gives one self-
noble work.
Time never sits heavily on us, but when it is respect, makes a place for everybody. Even
it

badly employed. the weakest and humblest of men may be the

I
 THE MODERN MAXIA. 55

keystone on which* some great arch depends, for widows ? If it be in print, it has never met

or at least the mortar without which some no- our eyes. Is that phase of woman's existence
ble edifice would be but a crumbling ruin. merely looked on as a time of transition, in
Let ud not be out of humor with the age of which she passes by insensible stages from
classification,but take heart, and find our niche, black crape veil to black lace, and so on to the
and either fill it grandly with a statue that all second bridal veil, which enables her again to
ages may look on with reverence, or, bee-like, read the books for wives, and have her mind
silently store it with honey, and sweeten life fed once more with food especially hashed for
for others mid our daily toil. it Ah, there are mourners, there are uucom-
?

Why, in these days one is not even obliged forted hearts among us who prove this excuse
to think for him.self. There is an author, or an an idle slander.
editor, or a lecturer to tel' him what views to If the widows annot have their volume ex-
hold on any or and if an undecided
all subjects, pressly for their use, perhaps the editor of the
old gentleman should chance to be in doubt Lady's Book will give them for a time a spare
concerning any opinion, he has but to appeal corner in her valued periodical, where they may
to all-knowing Young America, and be set at least find their portrait, and possibly some
right at once. hints which it would be wise for them to lay to
Where has classification more decided tri- heart.
umphs than in the kitchen cabinet ? Where Of course we should not think of entering
are more closely drawn ? It is vain for
its lines U])on any subject without classification, and
or friend in Fifth Avenue, having men-ser- so, dear reader, do not be shocked if we treat

vants and maid-servants without number, to widows as if they were articles in a thread and
hope that any of them will condescend to needle store, duly boxed aw.iy with their pro-
sweep the few square yards of pavement in per labels, to be brought out as there may be a
front of her house. Some outsider must be demand for them.
secured for that duty, because, forsooth, the
rules of classification forbid any of the trained L THE WIDOW INDEED.
corps of retainers to depart so far from their " Break, break, break

peculiar walk as to perform an

M the font of th,v cracrs, O SPa!
office not set But tlie teoder LTiiCe of a day [hat is dead
down in the description of the -species to Will iiuver come back to me."
which
" wben I sorrow mo.st,
he or slie may belong. I sa,v it
I cmmt it true, whale'er befall
There were old-fashioned days when a well- It is better to have loved and lost

to-do papa might have a dinner served up to

Thaa uever to have loved at all."
Let tby widows trust id me. Jeremiah, xr.iv.
suit his own notions, a sort of general hodge- ^oue of them that trust iu me shall be desolate.
podge of all his palate had approved lang syne. Psalm xxxiv.
Not so now There are laws prescribed as to
I Did we say that there was no book for wi-
the dishes that may appear together and Jew ; dows ? Blessed be God there is a Book for I

might sooner worship with Samaritan or eat Widows Indeed, writtenby the fingerof Omnipo-
with Gentile than luckless man dare to hope tence and illuminated with pictures of His tender
for beef, lamb, or venison without their inevi- compassion who hath formed the human heart.
table accompaniments. For such a mourner we have no trite word,
While the grand system of classification has words of sympathy. No human hand can bind
penetrated even to the direction of our daily up her broken heart, no human voice can
food it is not strange that it should have set charm away her grief; yet for her there is laid
up its authority in the department of letters, up a wealth of consolation ; tliere is an Al-
and organized a system for tlie peifect and sa- mighty arm offered to sustain her ; there is

tisfactory feeding of that by natuie omnivorous exhaustless love proffered her by one who is

consumer, the human mind. the Faithful Promiser.

What are you ? Doctor, minister, old maid, We will not lift the dark, shrouding veil that
bachelor, child, young miss, college boy, sailor, hides the true widow's tears. Hers is a sorrow
soldier, school-mistress, or cook, apprentice too sacred for touch of our pen. By and by
boy, or aged saint, who or whatever you may be, her little ones will pl,iy bo-peep with those long
there has been a book written especially for you, sable folds, their faces will look lovingly up to
a book precisely calculated to meet the wants hers, and she will learn to dash away her tears
of the species of yentis homolo which you belong. and return their sunny smiles. We but mur-
Bat stop ! There is one class for whom there mnr, "God comfort her 1" and pass on to her
lias been no book written. Where is the book less afflicted si:>ters.
 MILDRED'S RESOLVE.
BY VIOLET W0UD3.

CHAPTER I. There was a dignity and emplmsis in her

" Clifford, do not speak to me again of mar- language which precluded all necessity for far-
riage. You know the only conditions upon ther pleading, and Clifford, having observed it,
which I could possibly become your wife, and exclaimed with ill-suppressed anger :

yet you refuse to comply with them. My "You do not love me, Mildred You have !

friends, as you are aware, ar# ray advisers in never loved me, or you could not resign me so
regard to this, and I know too well what misery easily. If yon were an automaton, you could
I mi(jht secure to myself to disregard their scarcely evince less feeling. You have uo
counsels." charity for my faults, and exercise uo forbear-
Apause ensued in which the young man ance towards the weakness which I cannot
loosened his clasp on the hand he had been conquer. No, you do not love me," he added
caressing, and moving farther and yet farther in a voice plaintive as that of a wounded dove.
from the drooping figure, his eyes sought the "Clifford," she replied, raising her eyes and
downcast face. Mildred Asher looked up Clif- ; gazing steadily into his face, "you are doing
ford Hale was subdued by that timid expression, me a great injustice, and my heart bleeds be-
and replied in a, voice whose every tone was neath the torture you inflict. How intensely I
the very essence of devotion : love yon, you, who have received the manifes-
" Ah, Mildred, you little know what an influ- tations, alone can tell. But I shall be more
ence you might exert over me as my wife. I generous than you have been, and admit that
already love you, but a more intimate compan- every profession you have ever made, has been
ionship will, if possible,augment the afl'ection received without a doubt as to its truth. I

I now entertain, and increase the power you have asked you to pledge yourself never to
already possess. Will not even that admission drink again, and my love and confidence are so
make you yield to my dearest wishes ?" boundless, so implicit, that I would willingly
She did not reply her fingers were playing
; stake my life upon your honor. You have, I
nervously with her embroidered handkerchief, imagine, a mistaken belief that you will sacrifice
and tlie tears were settling in her eyes. Clifford your independence by adopting the course I
grasped her hand, and continued: "Why do have proposed, and for that reason, you refuse
yon hesitate, Mildred? Answerme, for heaven's to secure to yourself the possession of my love.
sake, and let this burden of unrest be removed. I no longer urge, for I already blush in
shall
Toll me your final resolve. Let me know remembrance of the fact, that I promised you
whether we shall thus walk year after year, my heart and hand upon certain conditions,
united in heart, and yet divided in life's dearest and that you failed to comply."
interests. Shall a fear force you to destroy my "Yes," said he, "I have failed to comply,
liappiness when love and hope both prompt you because I my word to do that
could not pledge
to establish it ? Answer me quickly, Mildred, for which I felt I had not suflicieut strength.
for my ears are eager to hear the* unjust words Yon do not love me, Mildred, or j'ou would be
for which your countenance bids me prepare." willing to marry me with a full knowledge of
"You have, indeed, anticipated my reply," my faults."
she returned with provoking coolness "if you ;
" Calm yourself, Clifford, aivd let me tell you
think me 'unjust' for maintaining a belief in what you are wrong. You say that you do
which I know to be correct, and for firmly not believe I love you, and yet, should another
standing my own ground when it would be than yourself accuse me of infidelity, how
wrong to yield. It is strange," she continued, quickly you would resent the infamy. Never,
earnestly, " that I am destitute of that power never did a young girl yield her heart to the
now, during our engagement, with which I keeping of another, more willingly, more en-
should be invested after marriage. So, you tirely, than did I mine to you. I know the

see, Clifford, that your opinion is incorrect. difference between your social position and
Now is the time I shall not wait until I am
! mine ; I know that you are brilliantly endowed
your bride to accomplish the reformation which, with the rarest gifts of both Nature and For-
as your betrothed, I have vainly undertaken !" tune, and that I am only a governess in the
"
56
 Mildred's resolve. 57

house of your sister I know all that intervenes

; plied :
" .Mildred, you could have given me no
between us in a worldly point of view, and, at greater proof of your boundless afi'ectiou than
one time, it seemed strange that you could God
the utterance of those lew, simple words.
descend from your lofty position, and select one alone knows with what miserly cue 1 shall
so lowly as myself for the object of your devo- guard them. They will ring tbriiugh my ears,
tion. That ilevoliou has been reciprocated, and and sound in the deptlis of my heart and if ;

yet you accuse me of falsehood. CliU'ord," ever I am templed, I will listen to their undy-
she added, her speech gaining earnestness with ing melody, and let it still the voice of the
each word, " if I do not love you why should I tempter. Mildred," he added, after a few mo-
wish to become your wife ? Tii-il I may enjoy ments had passed, " I no longer urge, nor
the wealth of which I know you to be possessed ? would I have you to become my wife until my
That I may occupy the exalted station, which, strength is tested. But oh, if that time had
as your wife, I would be expected to fill ? To only passed, and I might claim you It seems !

no other facts than these can your insinuations so strange, so unjust, that I, a man and your af-
bo reduced. I either do love you devotedly, lianced husband, should livein idleness, without
or else my object in entering into this engage- a thougiit of the morrow ; while yon, a woman,
ment was merely mercenary. you think tlie If born to be admired and adored, are dependent
former, recall the words which you have uttered upon your own exeitions. If you were any
in a moment of passion ; if the latter, spurn place but here, I should feel miserable ou
me as you would a worthless bauble !" account of your situation ; but 1 know that
observed her extreme agitation, and
Clifford Agnes is your friend, and that she loves you.
rising, he walked several times across the room. Am I right ?"
Finally, he approached the fire-place ; leaned "Indeed you .are," she returned. "Your
his he.ad upon the marble mantel, and gazed sister is all thatan orphan like myself could
abstractedly into the glowing grate. It might wish in a friend. She deserves and receives
have been the heat which sent the red flushes my unbounded confidence, and her advice is
across his face in such rapid succession, but the wisest and best. I told her of the course I
what was it that paled his cheek so instantane- had resolved to adopt relative to our marriage,
ously as he lifted himself from his bent posi- and it received her approbation. Clifl'ord, she
tion ? Mildred's head was buried in the velvet has committed to me the task of reclaiming
of the sofa upon which she was sitting one ; you, and oh ! if love and hope can accomplish
tiny hand was pressed upon her heart, and low, anything, you will be saved. Poverty and
unmistakable sobs burst upon the stillness of have no terrors for me, if you are by
aflliction
the apartment. Clifl'ord had never before seen my side wealth and honor no charm, if desti-
;

her iu tears, and the sight all'ected him pain- tute of your presence. But," she concluded,
fully. He went forward, threw himself upon looking into his eyes with a calm, penetrating
his knees beside her, and exclaimed " Mildred, : g.i2e, " I would rather occupy a hireling's place
Mildred,God forbid that you should shed a tear in another's household than be mistress of a
for meI know and acknowledge my own
! palace whose master is devoted to the wine-

unworthiness, and yet I cannot give you up. cup."

I have never broken my word have never ;
" You are enthusiastic, " he exclaimed, with
made a vow which has not been fulfilled but a smile.
this, but this, oh! Mildred, I am so weak. " Yes the subject is one which demands the
;

My heart is strong to undertake anything to highest enthusiasm, the deepest earnestness.

which you may point, but can I succeed ? I You have never thought of it as I have. What
dare not give my pledge, but I will struggle could I promise myself in the future years ?
to do as you wish. If I am capable, I will Could have an influence tlitn, if it
I hope to
claim you ; if not, I will resign you." The failed has been promised that no
me now ? It

faltering voice, quivering lip, and moistened man shall be tempted beyond his strength, and
eyes were strangely at variance with the firm God's own words have many times been veri-
determination expressed in the words. fied. Test them, Clifford, and test yourself.
"Then, Clilford, I know that I shall at some You love me, and you cannot fail. Think how
time be your wife." The remark w.is uttered /would act were you thus pleading with me."
in a low, sweet voice, a voice that clearly Like a snow-white dove in its protecting
evinced the fidelity of the heart from which it covert, her hand nestled confidingly in his.
emnnateil. They no longer talked, but thoughts nnspfak-
Clhlord pressed his lips to her brow, and re- able swept through their minds, and it would

L
58 GODEY S LADTS BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

linve seemed a bitter mockery to mar the hal-

lowed silence. But during that silence a change
CHAPTER II.

passed slowly over Clifford's countenance. A Night after night

found Clifford Hale wan-
firm resolve was traced upon the hrow, the dering restlessly from one scene of low debauch
hlack eyes grew more intensely dark, and the to another, but like a statue of Parian marble
flexible lips assumed a sternness never before in a company of grim and horrible skeletons, ,

observed. But oh the tones that issued from

! his soul remained pure and unsullied by the
them were gentle as the notes of the woodland associ.itions by which he was surrounded.
zephyr, as he drew nearer to the young girl, Thoughts clothed in language which had never
and said "Mildred, if I should not visit you
: before fallen upon his ears, uttered as if in
for a month, would you miss me?" ignorance of the recording Angel, were breathed
"Miss you I" was love's involuntary escla^ in his presence, and caused him to shrink back
rnation "can you doubt it ?"
; in horror from the debasing influences he was
"I do not doubt it, Mildred, but I shall test struggling to renounce. Time passed, and the
your truth. I am about to impose upon myself period of his probation had almost expired.
the severest penalty that could be inflicted. As He had been tempted, but like an iron-hound
I have told you, I intend trying to abstain from ship breasting the fury of the wind and waves,
the use of any intoxicating bever.ages, what- he had resisted the enticements of the tempter,
ever ; and for one month shall place myself in and looked proudly b.ick upon the strength
a position to be assailed by every temptation. which had rendered him triumphant.
1 shall mix with a class of society from which It was the night before that upon which he I
I have always kept aloof; and the consequences was to have an interview with Mildred. He
shall be truthfully revealed to you. If I re- would give the required pledge, and she, in
sist, I shall make you the pledge for which you return, would render his happiness complete.
have asked, and shall demand, in return, a He had scarcely a thought independent of the
speedy marri.age. If I fall, we will have one woman he loved, and those thoughts flashed
last interview, and I will resign you forever." upon his mind like the beams of a brilliant star
"Oh, CliUbrd, a month seems so long to breaking through the parted clouds.
wait for your smile ; so long to listen for your "And Mildred? There was an indefinable
voice !" The blue eyes were full of tears, .ind something which hung like a mist over her
the lips were tremulous. "I cannot under- heart, and rendered her almost sad. Mrs.
stand wliy you will not visit me in the mean- Wayland observed her dejection, and proposed
time. Explain, and I shall be satisfied." that they should attend a masked ball to be
"Because I intend to mingle in those scenes given at the house of a friend. It was the last
vrith which it would be a sin to connect even a evening of Clifford's probation, and she accepted
thought of you, and I must forget you for a the offer upon condition that they should re-
while, if possible. You will be contented to main entirely unknown.
wait, will you not?" They did not go until late, and the company
" Yes," was the low reply, " I am not only being assembled in the drawing-room, the upper
contented, but happy, to wait, for you will suc- halls were deserted. They had just reached the
ceed." ladies' apartment, when a gentleman emerged
Half an hour later, ClifFord rose to take his from an opposite room, left the door ajar, and
departure. He was standing before the fire, descended the stairs. A voice fell upon her
holding both of Mildred's hands in his own,
ears a voice welcome as the first carol of the
and she listened, oh ! so intently, to each word spring bird, and she knew that Clifford was not
asit fell from his lips. He was saying : far distant. Other tones, too, were heard, and
" In four weeks from to-morrow night I will the words swept down upon her lieart like the
come agnin. Do not expect me until then, for ruinous avalanche upon the peaceful valley
I am determind to make this test. What a sad below; "Come, Hale, let's have a drink be-
interview this has been, Mildred," he added, as fore we go down."
he gazed more steadily into her sorrowful eyes. How will he reply ? Her heart almost ceased
"And the next!" she exclaimed with an to pulsate she was so fearfulhe would fall.
involuntary shudder. " How much more pain- " No, no. Do not ask me. I am trying to
ful than this it may be." abstain altogether."
She burst into tears, he kissed the pallid "Under a pledge to some lady, I warrant,"
cheek, and whispering, " In four weeks from was returned.
to-morrow night," he departed. "I am under no pledge, but my reason for
 MILDREDS RESOLVE. 59

refusing you is sufficient. Hereafter, the man " But I shall ot excuse you." She ap-
who asks me is not my friend." proached one of the side tables, lifted a heavy
"Are ,vou iu earnest, Clifford f I thought decanter, and poured a glittering draught into
you were jesting, perhaps." a massive cup. Then, returning, she offered it
'*I was never more serious," was the calm with irresistible sweetness, and said " Come, :

reply. "If a kingdom were ofl'ereJ nie if I the wine will lose its brilliancy and I my pa-
would indulge iu one glass only, I would si;oru tience, if you keep me waiting. This is to the
the ollering." health and h:ippiness of Mr. Hale."
They passed out of hearing, and Mildred Their glasses touched, and Clifford's was
turned to where Mrs. Wayland was standing emptied at a draught.
before the luirror. She had not heard the con- Mildred had heard every word, had seen
versation nor could Mildred repeat it. Who every movement, and had the glass contained
can tell the emotions of her heart f One might her heart's "best blood," she could not have
as well attempt to learu the rippling cadence endured a greater agony. Gone were the lofty
of the brooklet's song, or the deep, sublime hopes, the towering aspirations I Here a castle
bass of the ocean's roar, as to think to read the had crumbled away, and fallen a mass of gilded
language of a soul whose happiness is gained. ruins at her very feet. Sick at lieart, she
Mildred's was supreme She had known Clif-I turned away ; but for a moment was almost
ford to be enticed, and she had known him to tempted to tear the mask from off her face and
resist. Was she surprised ? No, for had not stand revealed before the man she had loved
herown heart prophesied that temptation would and trusted. But should she condemn him ?
fall powerless in the presence of his superior Had he not told her his weakness ? And had
strength ? he not refused to pledge his word ? But with
A few moments later they descended ; the what woe and misery was the result of his
rooms were crowded, and presented a splendid failure freighted Like the ship which moves
!

appearance. Clifford, with several other gen- majestically through the storm and mountain
tlemen and ladies, was unmasked, and one of wave, yet goes down in sight of the shore to
the number, a young girl, won and engrossed which it was hastening, he had wrecked him-
Mildred's attention. was lovely in an Slie self when nearest the point he would have
eminent degree, and seemed toClifford, too, died to gain.
appreciate her loveliness; for already he ap-
peared unconscious of the presence of another "Mildred, I have come to resign you!''
than herself. Mildred's confidence was too Hopeless as the clank of a prisoner's chain was
implicit to permit one jealous thought, but she the voice which uttered these words. Few they
did not like to acknowledge the influence the were, but oh, how heavily laden with grief and
stranger seemed to exert. But the crowd moved woe !

toward the room in which the refreshments The young girl addressed raised her eyes, and
were served, and for a few moments she lost looked, not said " You have failed, then ?"
:

sight of the couple in which she felt so much "Yes, failed

utterly, entirely," he re-
interest. sponded, interpreting the mute expression.
" Wine, if you please." "At a time, too, when I thought myself most
Mildred turned, and recognized in the speaker secure. Until last night, I resisted every va-
the lady who had so irresistibly won her notice. riety of temptation and then, exulting iu the
;

Her eyes were as bright and her voice as liquid very strength which had sustained me, I be-
as the article she demanded, and, like Chris- came hopelessly weak, and fell." He endea-
tabel, she was "beautiful exceedingly." vored to repress his agitation, and appear calm,
Clifford Hale approached with but one gob- but he might as well have attempted to still
let, and presented it with a smiling bow. She the roaring of a cataract or quell the fury of a
received it gracefully, but exclaimed in aston- storm.
ishment " Am I to drink this alone?"
:
Mildred did not speak.Words were useless
" I cannot indulge," was the low reply. now. She had striven and pleaded, and where
" Cannot indulge !" she echoed. " Toti are was her reward ? There was not a ray of
not loyal, I am afraid. No gentleman can light in the present, not one beam to dispel tho
refuse a lady, and I demand obedience. An- darkness of the future.
other glass, if yon please." In the intensity of his anguish, Clifford sud-
Clifford bit his lip, bnt replied, firmly :
" I denly grew calm he talked earnestly of his
;

cannot comply ;
you must excuse me." failure, and eloquently of his affection. He
60 godey's lady's book axu magazixe.

could not, would not give Mildred up I He tin have come for you to go home with theui.
would make one more trial, and then, if he fell You know they give a party to-night.
Rose
or succeeded, he would abide by the conse- wants you to take part in a duet with her, her
quences. And the young girl listened, accept- friend whom she was expecting is necessarily
ing his terms as eagerly as the thirsty floweret absent. '

receives tlie sparkling dew. She could not live " But I am not prepared."
without him; she would trust him again, and "Oh, fy ! when were you not prepared for
a thous.ind times, if necessary. Woman, lov- music ? Come, hasten ; I will tell them that
ing and confiding ! thy breast the divine
in you will go."
injunction finds its echo " Yet not seven times,
: It required but a few moments for Mildred
but seventy times sevn shalt thou forgive." to make her toilet ; a simple white dress and
Mildred did not tell Clifford that she had no ornaments, and yet how radiantly beautiful
witnessed his humiliation ; she had not tlie she was !

fortitude for that. He had failed signally, and " Ready so soon !" was the remark which
had reported the truth to her. She would try greeted her as she entered the drawing-room,
liim again, but where was the towering hope and Mrs. Wayland stepped back in surprise at
which had characterized her former trial ? Even her extreme loveliness. Slie had but seldom
tiie eagle, whose eyrie is almost beyond the seen her attired in party style, for Mildred
sweep of the human eye, can sometimes fail in rarely ever went into company, knowing that,
tlie dizzy ascension, and so, too, Clifl'ord, the although she was invited, it was solely on ac-
liigh, the noble, would sometimes fall short of count of Mrs. Wayland.
the mark to which he bad aspired. It required but a few moments for them to
reach the place of destinatifm, and Mildred was
nshered into the parlor. The whole company
had adjourned to the supper-room, and thither
CHAPTER III.
they soon followed them. The apartment be-
The period of Clifford's second probation was ing crowded, they were obliged to stand near
fast drawing to its close. Only one evening the door, behind which a lady and gentleman
remained, and immediately after tea Mildred seemed to be stationed, and were evidently in

retired to her cb.amber, saddened by the re- an earnest conversation. Mildred attempted to
uienibrance of their former trial, and yet, oh, move away, but Clifford's voice, low but ex-
so hopeful for the one now impending She ! cited, riveted her attention.

could sc.ircely read, her excitement was so in- " Yon need not ask me ; I cannot, will not
tense, and book after book was tlirown aside, indulge."
wliose perusal was considered a task not to be "I remember," said the same sweet voice
accomplished in her present state of mind. which once before had caused him to waver
About eleven o'clock she walked to the win- "I remember what a task I had to resurrect
dow, threw aside the heavy curtains, and gazed your politeness on a former occasion. The
out upon tlie night. The streets were almost remembrance of my success then gives me hope
deserted now and then a lonely pedestrian
;
for the present."
moved hastily along, his heart growing lighter " You need not attempt," was make another
with each step that brought him nearer home the quick, " Once you almost
stern reply.
and a quiet fireside, for the weather was in- ruined me, body and soul I defy your utmost ;

tensely cold. In the midst of her reflections exertions now." There was no reply, and pre-
she was startled by the sound of approacliing sently he added, in a softer voice: "Come,
wheels, and a moment later a carriage drew up let 's go where it is not so crowded, and I will

to the door and halted. A gentleman and two give you the reasons for my abstinence."
ladies alishted, and, running np the marble They passed out directly in front of Mildred.
steps, gave the bell a quick, impatient jerk. Clifford reoognized her, and bent upon her a
She heard them speaking in merry tones to look full of She
surprise and unutterable love.
Mrs. Wayl.ind, and presently that lady herself remembered the disappointment which awaited
went np and entered her room. her former trial, and for a moment her lieart
" You are wanted, Mildred," was her excla- was clouded b)it the shadow swept by, and
;

mation. the sunlight of confidence, renewed again,

" W.anted for what ?" was the reply. beamed fnll npon her.
" Don't be frightened," Mrs. Wayland re- "Did you see the lady standing nenr the
turned, with a smile."Rose and Nellie Mar- door as we came out ?" said Clifford, after he
 MILDRED'S RESOLVE. 61

and his companion were seated in the drawing- sessed one gem more priceless to her than all
room. " There she is now," he added, casting Golconda could have furnished which, nnseen ;

his eyes toward Mildred, who was then en- by the world, threw its dazzling r.adiance across
taring. her pathway. And that gem was the pledge of
" Which ? The one with such a lovely com- total abstinence from all intoxicating beverages,
plexion, blue eyes, and brown hair?" which Clifford had presented her previous to
" Yes ; though I rarely ever think of her her marriage. Happiness and honor attended
external appearance, her mind and heart so their steps, and Mildred has never had cause
completely enslave me. Nina Hayes, she is to regret her resolve for her husband hns
;

my betrothed,and yon may imagine how dear gained for himself a name and a place in the
she is to me. She is poor a governess in my hearts of all who know him. and ever attributes
sister's family
and yet, she refuses to become his success to the woman of his choice.
my wife until I have conquered every desire
for ardent spirits. I had determined to test my

strength before giving my pledge to that effect,

and for this purpose liave resisted every species
THE CASKET OF THE YEAR.
BY WILLIE E. PAEOE.
of temptation. In one effort I failed : in this,
with God's help, I have been successful." P^arl the First. Jfinitary.
" And I was the cause of your former fail- Ktxd words of welcome, words of cheer.

tire !" she exclaimed, her dark eyes filling with First of the children of the year.

tears. "The lady despises uie doesn't she?

We give to the!
Frosl-cruwned ice-girdled thongh thoa art
and yon, too ?" Euter the people's home and heart,
"She knows nothing of it," was the reply ; January I

"and as for myself, I can scarcely regret it.

One of nnntunbered thonsands thou !

Ithas but proved that while she is just, she is Born with a crown upon thy brow.
truly generous and that where I have de-
; And bringing gifts
served scorn and contempt, I have received And promises of greener bowers
only love and forgiveness. Let me make you Beyond thy pre-sent icy honrs
And white snow drifts.
acquainted with her, for I am sure that you
will love her." From SiXTT-TWO to SiXTT-THRRB

Affection is oftentimes a false prophet, but How brief the span of time ; and we,
Upon the shore,
Clifford spoke the words of truth, when he said
Loolc forward wliile our thonghts go back
that Nina would love hfs affianced bride, for To seasons and to scenes, alack !

the admiration she first experienced soon deep- That are no more.
ened into the truest, most lasting friendship.
And if a solemn measnre runs
Onr welcome through, because of sans
Two months later a brilliant party were as- And seasons fled.
sembled to witness the marriage of Clifford Be it the earnest of onr faith !

What poet and what prophet saith.

Hale with Mildred Asher. Had the wishes of
Should thus be said.
either been regarded, the occasion wonld have
Snow-wreathed, and frost-crowned,
ice-girdled,
been one of privacy but Mrs. Wayland could ;

God speed thee on thy dally rouud

not forbear publicly receiving her brother's
Of days to be!
wife into her family. And, as we walk Time's winding way,
"No, no," said she, in answer to their en- "Touch us all tenderly," we pray,
treaties ; "do not ask me to forego my present January
plan. If but few were invited, the faohionaWe
world might insinuate that I was not pleased
with the alliance when, indeed, I wonld have
: iKFLrEN'CE OP A Trfe Wife. A sensible,
every one know that you are my choice as well affectionate, refined, woman, who
practical
as Clifford's." ra.ikes a man's nature .^11 the stronger by mak-
So Mrs. Wayland gained her point. And
ing it more tender who puts new heart into
m.inoeuvring m.ammas and aspiring dauehters all hisworthy strivings, gives dignity to his
smiled and congratulated the lovely bride prosperity, and comfort to his adversity. Every
and smiling, envied her the fortune she had true life wields a still greater power when it
won and the diamonds which glittered upon feels a living heart drawing it with irresistible
her arms, neck, and brow. But ah ! she pos- force into every position of duty.
VOL. LXTI.
 EOBIN HOOD.
A PAELOR PIECE FOR EVENING PARTIES.
{Ab proposed to be represented in the Back Drawing Room.)

BY WILLIAM BROCQH.

Characters. instrument, the guitar accompaniment may

be safly left to the imagination of the au-
Robin Hnnn, an Outlaw, passing himself off as
dience.]
Locksleif.
Little Joun,
(^
' i /^
f
,;
Outlaws, ^ ;;
followers of^ Alice. But hark I those silvery tones 'tis
bCARLET, 5- T) LI
"^

,1 .; -tr-ii i
1 Robin Hood. he oh joy
MccH, the Millers son, J ; I

Allan-a-Dai.e, a wandering minstrel. Allan-a-Dale, my own dear minstrel boy.

Hugo, the tax fjatlterer. [Allan-a-Dale sings outside.
Sir Reginald de Bkacy, Sheriff of Nottingham.
King Richard Ciecr he Lion, travelling iiicnguito Air. " Lonely 1 wander," Trovatore.
as "The Black Knight," on his return from
Palestine. Lonely I wander the wide town through.
Maid Marian, the Sheriff's daughter, betrothed to In hopes to pick up an odd sixpence or two ;

Locksleij. Ne'er shall quit your dooi', 1

Alice, her attendant. Till some odd pence or more,

Outlaws, Citizens, Soldiers, etc. etc. You place into the hat of the poor troubadour.
Scene L -In apartment in the house of the Sheriff Alice. 'Tis he ! I knew it ; ne'er yet was he
cf Nottingham, elegantly furnished. willing
[Note.
In orrler to put draraas on the stage To move on under at the least a shilling.
correctly, it is usual to "oousultautliorities." [ Going to the door.
In arranging the furniture for this scene, we Come in, dear Allan.
sliouUl strongly advise tliat the " authori-

ties" that is to say, Papa and Mamma Allan (entering). May I ?

should be consulted as to what chairs and Alice. May you ! stuff

tables may be used as a neglect to do so,
;
You know you always welcome.
're
might lead to serious chronological mistakes Allan down). That enough
even to the premature sending to bed of
Alice.
{sits

My mistress is so fond of music.

's !

the management.]
Allan. True
Enter Alice icith a dusting-brush. And of the gossip that I bring her too.
Alice. There, my
work 's done if my work We wandering minstrels' story-telling powers,
I can work
call ; Gain lis admission to all ladies' bowers.
It seems all play, though I ammaid-of-all-work. Alice. True, we 've no other way our news
Sure no girl e'er had such a place as this is, to get,
The Lady Jlarian 's such a first-rate Missis. For newspapers are not invented yet.
Dusting her room 's mere child's play. Though Now for it 1 [Sits by liim.
I must Allan. Alice, words would tell but poorly
Confess her pa' sometimes Icicls up a dust. How fair you are I

This comes of being Sherifi". I 'm aware Alice. You don't call that news, surely !

The seat of office is no easy chair ; Have you no fresher tidings ?

But what care I what fortunes variable Allan. Yes ; I 've learned
O'ertake that chair, while I am com-for-table. King Richard from his travels has returned.
[Allan-a-Dale is heard outside playing on the Alice. Why then Prince John
guitar.
Allan. Prince .John I should advise,
[Note. Should the resources of the establish- His nose put out of joint, to mind his eyes.
ment include a grand pianoforte, the notes Since the king left, nice tricks has he been at.
of a guitar may be exactly imitated by laying
Alice. Mice will play in the absence of the
a sheet of tolerably stitf paper loosely upon
the strings. Should the only available piano cat I

be an " upright," or a " cottage," the paper Allan. But see, the Lady Marian 's coming
may be threaded in and out of the wires. In hither
the absence of a piano, however, or in the
event of the " autliorities" before alluded to
And, as I live no yes, say, who 's that with

objecting (as they probably would) to any her f

tampering with the internal economy of the Alice. That ; oh, that 's Locksley.
62
 ROBIX HOOD. 63

Allan. Locksley him d'ye call f Marian. His ceaseless thefts

His name is Robin. Such slanders don't believe in.

He always Robin, but not always thievin'

's

Enter Robin Hood (as Loceslet) and Makiax.
Marian. You take his part ? Uh, no, it

Bobin. Locksley, sir, of Locksley Ilall. can't be 1

(Aside to him). Be quiet. Robin. Why

Allan. All right, captain. Perhaps he's quite as good a man as I.
Marian. Wliv, bow 's this ? What if I were abused and slandered so.
The minstrel seems to know you. Would you believe what folks said of me ?
Allan. Know him, miss ! Marian. No.
That gentleman 's the le.ider of our band. Of course I wouldn't.
Robin (evasively). Yes; I conduct sometimes. Robin. Just so. Then, again,
Marian. I understand. E'en suppose I were Robin Hood. What then ?

You play first fiddle, I suppose ?

Robin. Just so. DUET.

'Twould do you good to see me use my how. Air. " Will you love me then as note?"
But never mind my heau ; am I not yours ? Robin. have told me that you loved me,
Y'ou
Allan. I see ; our leader 's made you over-
With the blushes on your cheek ;

tures.
Marian. Can yon wonder at my blushing,
Marian. How dare you speak, sir, upon such 'Twas so difficult to speak.
affairs ?
Robin. But suppose the noble Locksley,
Alice, condnct the troubadour down stairs.
Into Robin Hood should change?
Allan. This conduct to a bard !
Marian. I should say the alteration.
Alire. There, never mind ;
At the very least, looked strange.
I 've luncheon ready. Robin. ask yon would you cut me ?
But I
Allan. True, the hard not dined.
I almost think somehow
's
M'jrian. Well,
Y'et if he chose he could speak.
Robin. You would cease to care almut me ?
Alice. Well, but don't.
Marian. Ko I 'd love you then as now.
Allan. The bard is hungry so he thinks he
;

[Exeunt,
won't.
[^Ereunt .'^llas and Alice.
Marian. Now, Locksley, we 're alone, repeat,
ScEXE ir. Sliertrood Forest.

I pray,
[Note. The arrangement of this scene will
What you but now were just about to say. give an fscellent opportunity for the exer-
cise of skill on the part of the manafrenipnt.
Robin. Rare news, sweet. I 've your father's
full permission
We have seen very effective "forest sets''
got up by me.ans of a few trunks of trees
To marry yon upon one sole condition. roughly painted on pasteboard, and sur-
Marian. And that is rounded by evergreens. But should this be
found too troublesome or impracticable, it
Robin. That I from all rivals snatch
should be borne in mind that in the " good
Tlie first prize in to-morrow's shooting match. old times," in the "palmy days of the dra-
Marian. Oh, should your arrow fail ! ma," before the present rage Sot sjieclnele had
Robin. That chance look not set in. it was considered amply sufficient to
for.
have the nature of the scene legibly written
Marian. But I don't choose to be put up and
on a placard, and hung up in aconspicnons
shot for. part of the scene. And surely, if this was
I 'U be no archer's butt. I don't like putting deemed good enough for Shakspeare, the
My future hopes on such an arrow footing. author of the present drama has no right to
feel dissatisfied with it. So we should sug-
Robin. I '11 hit the bull's-eye, dearest, have gest, in default of any scenic appliances, a
no fears. sheet of card-board with the woids " Shek-
Marian. I think pa 's mad about his volun- wooD Forest" written upon it, leaving the
author to make what protest he chooses
teers
aeainst the want of liberality in the manage-
And shooting matches. Of it what 's the good ? ment.]
The
Robin. fact is, he 's afraid of Robin Hood.
To catch him 'tis they drill each raw recruit, Enter Hugo.
And young ideas how to shoot.
teach their Hugo. Thus far into the thickest of the wood
Marian. I wish this Robin Hood was dead. Have I marched on, nor yet seen Robin Hood.
Don't you ? Oh, how I shudder .it his very name !

Robin. Well, no, I can't esaotly say I do. He 'd deem a tax-collector lawful yanie.
64 godey's lady's booe and magazine.

He hates all taxes. Well, those we now levy Little John. We 've caught a Norman tax-
In the king's absence I confess are heavy collector, sir.
Anil not quite constitutional, folks say : Robin. A Norman ! Hated race ! Our coun-
Well, let them what matters if they pay.
talk, try's curse 1

The tax on incomes, p'rhaps we might relax, And a tax-gatherer, which is even worse I

Or soon there '11 be no incomes left to tax. The Norman's visit each true Saxon hates,
And yet 1 doji't know tax them as you will. 'Specially when he calls about the rates.
This Anglo-Saxon race seems prosperous still. We loathe his written laws yet even more
;

To the last stick you briug them down what The printed papers he leaves at one's door.
then? Hugo {kneeling). Spare me 1

You find tW etiistic race spring up again. Robin. Perhaps we might.

Much. What means this whim ?

SONG. Robin. Who is there we could better spare

AlR.- The Postman's KnocJc.' than him ?

What a wonderful land this England must be

Go ; you are free.
(A remark that 's been made before; ;
Hugo. Oh, thanks I

You take her last shilling in taxes, and she Robin. Now, list to me.
Is still good for some millions more.
Your name is Hugo. I let you go free.
What with income-tax, house-tax, assessments,
So, when some Saxon in your law's fell pow'r,
and rates,
No Englishman knows what he 's at Implores your pity, think upon this hour.
His house his castle, but we storm the gates,
is Spare him as you 're now spared and when ;

As we come with the doulile rat-tat.

you would
Every morn, .as true as the clock,
The poor-rates or taxes are sure to knock. Remorseless be, remember Robin Hood !

[7J(? brings a large moneij-bag Jrom under his cloak. Hugo, Fear not. Oh, sir, I am so glad I met
This morning's work has Ijrought me glorious you.
profit. Remember you I never shall
! forget you.

My bag 's so heavy. Robin. No words. Away !

Hugo. My
thanks no words can speak.
Little John, Much (the Miller's son), Scarlet, (^Aiide.) The rate-payers
shall smart for tliis
and other Outlaws, enter and surround him. next week. [Exit.

Little John. Let us ease you of it. Scarlet. I 'm sorry that you spared him.

Hugo. Thieves ! Robbery ! Police !

Robin. Cruel varlet I

Much. Peace, what 's the good, To say so should blush, if I were Scarlet.
I

To holloa till your safe out of the wooil ;' What think you. Much, of it ?
Little John. Give us the sack (snatching it from Much (sulkili/). I'm sorry, too.

him). Robin. In th.at case. Much, I don't think much

Hugo. Nay, it 's not mine, you see of you.

;

Don't take it, or they '11 give the sack to me Black Knight (calls outside). What ho, there !
;

Mine 's a good situation. Help!

Much. Well, at present, Robin. Hark 1 there 's a call. What is it ?

Your situation might be much more pleasant. Little John. That call may p'r'aps not mean
Let 's hang him. a friendly visit.

Hugo. No, no quarter, pray. Black Knight (outside). Help!

;

Much. Just so Much. By all means, if you have any pelf.

We '11 quarter you, but hang you first, you Scarlet. Oh, yes, we '11 help him.

know. Much. I shall help myself.

You, as a tax-collector, can't be nettled Enter The Black Knight. Theg surround him.
To find the quarter you 've applied for settled.
Bring him along. Robin. Now, sir, who are you through our
Scarlet. Had we not better wait forest bawling ?
TillRobin Hood himself decides his fate 1
Your name and business tell ; we 've heard
Hugo. Yes, do. your calling.

Scarlet. He comes. Black Knight. A weary knight, who all the

weary day
Enter RoBiK Hood in forester's costume, with how Has wandered through this wood and lost his
and arrows. -

way.
Robin. Now, lads, what means this stir ? Craves food and rest.
 ROBIN* HOOD.

Hohin. Your name ? Robin.While Robin, though, can bend the bow.
Black Kniijhl. I may not tell it. Be sure liis friends he '11 keep from harm.
I can repay your kindness. Both. A famous lu.m is Robin Hood,
Rubin. I dou't sell it. No wonder he is Enu'Iaiid's joy
Little John. No
but we 'U take your money
;
Where tyrants are to bi; withstood.
It '8 very plain that Rob's the boy.
all the same. [Advanciny towards him.
Robin. Wliat rob a fasting, weary man
! Enter Little Jonx.
For shame 1
Little John. The dinner 's ready.
Come in. We grant the shelter that you seek ; Robin. Come, then, worthy knight,
We spoil the strong, but we befriend the weak. Let good digestion wait on appetite. lEj-eunt.
Black Kniijht. Mine 's but a momentary weak-
ness, mind ;
Scene TIL The fair
outside Nottingham. Stalls
with toijs, fruit, cakex. etc., on them. Sirings,
You '11 see how strong I come out when I 've
shows, etc. People attending the stalls, peasants
dined. walking about.
Robin. No matter. Go ((o outlaws), make
re.idy for our guest.
[Note. The appearance of this scene will
And see that everything
doubtless vary considerably in ditTerent es-
is of the best.
tablishments. A table with .an open umbrella
[Extunt outlaws. fixed over it makes a very good stall, while
Pir,you are bold to venture through this wood, toys, cakes, fruit, and otlier articles to put
llare you no fears of meeting Robin Hood ? on tliem ought to be readily obtainable, espe-
cially with a guarantee from the management
Black Knijht. Would I could meet him hand
that the "properties" shall not be demolished
to hand I
until after the conclusion of the performance.
Rohin. Well, stay. Should there be any ditfioulty in fixingswings,
Afier you 've dined and rested, perhaps the simplest way is to do without them. The
you
same remark will hold good as regards the
may.
shows though, as only the outside of them is
;

Are you his enemy ? seen, a curtain or a tablecloth hung agninst

Black Kni'jht. I am the foe the wall, with a showman standing in front of
it to invite folks in. will answerevery purpose.
'
Of all their country's laws who overthrow.
A picture of wild beasts, or a giant, or a
Robin. Nay, then of foes you '11 find a decent dwarf, or a king, or a queen or. in fact, a
lot. picture of any possible or impossible object,
There is King Richard to begin with. hung on the curtains, would improve the
elfect, but is by no means essential.]
Black Kniyhl. Wh,lt ?
Rubin. Yes, if the people don't obey the laws, The scene opens to a confusion of cries, such as
The king himself is the unwitting canse. " What '11 you buy^buy buy ?" " Walk np
AVhy quit his kingdom on a wild-goose chase,
walk
up be in time." "Gingprbread-nuts,
sir! best spice-nnts, sir!" *'This way for the
Leaving a cruel tyrant in his place ? giant!" "All the fun of the fair !"</ o/A^rs
Black Knight. Does John oppress the people ? suggested bi/ the articles on the stalls, all the cries

Robin. Have you eyes being repeated together.

To see their sufferings, ears to hear their cries.

Enter the Sheriff o/'Nottingham and his daughter
That you can ask the question ? Why, 'tis M\iii\s, followed by Allax-a-Dale and Alice,
known attended by soldiers.
B-neath his laws no man's life is his own,
SherijK Silence ! D'ye hear ? Be quiet^
;-ive such as Robin Hood and his brave outlaws,
cease this din.
^Vlio, in the forest free, don't care about laws.
[All are quiet immediately.
^ I when folks' griev.ances too heavy press, Bring chairs here.
They fly to Robin Hood to seek redress. [Sheriff and Maeiax sit at one side.
In vain the tyrants as a traitor brand him : Now, before the sports begin,
The common people love and understand him. If any one h.as anything to say,
Any eonjplaints to make or fines to pay.
DUET.
Or any business to transact, in short.
Air " A famous man was Robin ITood." Let him now bring it in the Sheriff's Court.
Rubin. Oh, a famous Robin Hood, man is Only, I warn yon, I am in a hurry.
The English people's pride and joy ; So at your peril yon '11 the Sheriff worry I

The tyrants he has long witbs(tood.

Who try our freedom to destroy. [ One or two peasants who have apjn-oached

Black Knight. What you've just told me, do him turn aicay frightened.
yon know. Does no one speak ? Sure ne'er was town so
Has filled my uiiud with strange alarm, bless'd.
6*
66 GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

With not a single wrong to be redress'd I Sheriff. Not I ; it 's his fault if he comes too
Marian. I think tliat maid would speak, if late.
you 'd but let her. Marian. Mind, if he doesn't win me, I de-
What is it, girl ? Speak. clare,
Sheriff. Nonsense I She knows better. I 'II have no other for a husband. There I

The court 's adjourned. Sheriff'. Now, who shoots first ?

Peace, girl.

J^irst Peasant. Good sir, 'tis I !

Hugo runs in.

Sheriff. You see the mark ? Ready Pre- I

Hugo. Nay, for one moment stop. sent ! Let fly 1

Sheriff'. What seek you ? [Peasant shoots an arrow off. All laugh at him.
Hugo, Justice I Missed it 1 Who 's next ? (Another comes for-
Sheriff. We 've just closed the shop. ward to shoot.)
You are too late. Mind how you take a sight.
Hugo. But I 've been robbed. Ready I Present I Let fly !

Sheriff. Pooh-pooh (Second Peasatit shoots.)

Hugo. Half murdered 1 Good I in the white.
Sheriff. Call again to-morrow do. Robin Hood (as Lockshy) runs in.
Mariun. Who robbed you, fiiend ?
Hugo. 'Twas Robin Hood, miss. Robin. So; just in time, I see. Confound
that stranger
Sheriff. What ?
I

I couldn't leave him.

Hugo. And I know where to find him.
Allan the crowd).
Allan (aside tohim). Robin; you're in danger.
(^iu I liope not.
Alice. What 's it to you, pray ?
Robin. I know; I always am. Who cares?

Allan. Nothing, dear.

Look out I [He shoots.

Sheriff. Right in the bull's eye. Shout, you

Sheriff (to Hugo). You mead
villains shout.
To tell us that you Robin Hood have seen ?
;

Hugo. have. [ The populace all shout.

I

And know where he hangs Locksley, your hand. Y'ou 've nobly won the
Sheriff. out ?
prize
Hugo. I do,
lly daughter 's yourg.
For 1 was all but hanging out there too.
Come with your guards 1 '11 lead you to him Enter Hugo. He starts at seeing Robin.
straight.
Hugo. Eh can I trust my eyes
! !

Sheriff. Well, till our shooting-match is over,

'Tis he secure liim
; ! There stands Robin Hood I

wait.
[Soldiers seize RoEIN.
Hugo. You know you promised a reward.
Sheriff. What
Sheriff. Just so.
Hugo (holding out his hand). The reward, sir
We 'U talk of that when we have caught him,
if you '11 be so good.
;

though.
Sheriff. What he my ! ! future son, the out-
Allan (aside to Alice). Dear Alice, if you
law I Pshaw
love me, get that man
An out-law can't become a son-in-law .'

Away from here, by any means you can.

Marian. Speak to me, Locksley 1 Say it is
Alice. Easily. Hugo 's an old friend of mine.
not so.
Won't you come in and take a glass of wine
Hugo. I told you I 'd remember you, you
[To Hugo.
know.
After your troubles ?
Rohin. For this I saved yon from the hnlter f
Hugo. I shall be enraptured.
Hugo. Y'es.
[Exeunt Alice and Hugo.
I like the halteralion I confess.
Allan (aside). How to save Robin now from
Sheriff. Are you Robin Hood ?
Speak !

being captured?
Robin, Well, without sham,
Sheriff. Now, then, good people, let the
Since you ask so politely, sir, I am.
sports begin.
Farewell, dear Marian. As you see, I 'm sold.
Re-enter Alice. Marian. No, it can't be I

Sheriff, To prison with him.

Alice (aside to Allan). All right. The pan-
try I have locked him in. Enter the Black KtiiGHT, followed h;/ Little John,
Marian. Why is not Locksley here 1 Pa', Much, Scarlet, and Outlaws.
can't you wait ? Black Knight. Hold I
 LETTERS FROM AUXT BETSY BROOMCORN. 67

iSAerijf. Who 's this, that comes in style so Robin. You '11 get it. Don't be hurt.
harum-scarum t {To audience.) Reward us all I Not after our
Who are you ? desert
Black Knighl (ihrowinff off his disguise). Rich- By no high standard, pray, our acting test
ard, Kux Britauuiai'um. [All kneel. Whate'er we 've done we 've acted far the
All. Long live the king ! best,
King. Ue means to and what 's more, ;

To home, his people to n-atcli o"er.

live at FiXALE.
Release your prisoner. Robin iiood, come here. Am. " There 's nue luck about the house.
[Rubin kneels to the Kmu.
Old Christmas comes but once a year.
As Earl of Huntingdon, henceforth apjiear. The time for mirth and fun ;

Bobin {bringing Makijln forward). This peer- 'Tis not a time to be seveie
less maid, sire, who was lale so cheer- On those their best who 've done.
At snch a time, to lauu'li 's no crime,
less
Don't harmless jokes despise ;

King. Kow has her Earl, so she 's no longer

Unbend a while at folly smile.
peer-hss. Be merry thoueli you 're wise.
We pardon all that '3 past ; let none bear For there is no luck about the house
That Christuias fails to i-beer ;
malice.
'Tis no bail rule to play the fool.
Now all take hands. If only once a year.
Allan. Good take yours, then, Alice.
1 I '11
All repeat in chorus.
Alice. Well, the king commands.
since
For there is no luck about the house, &c
There I submit.
! [ dives her hand.

{Aside. ) I almost feared he 'd never ask for it I

THE CCRTAIK PALLS.
Hugo. But my reward .' (ProTided you have one ; if not, it doesn't.

LETTEES FROM AUNT BETSY BROOMCOEN.

LETTER I. feel them tremble, and tried to think about the
Dear Mr. Godey nigh about three
; It 's posies and little bushes along the side of the
years since I come to Scrub Uak to live with road. There was wintergreen, yonng sasafras,
Cousin Brewstir and, as I was tellin' Flory
; May-apples and lady-slippers. The red an 1

the other day, I 've a'most forgot all my old- yellow keys hadn't all dropped off the maple
fashioned w.ays, and don't s'pose anybody
I trees, and the popples was bright yet with their
would kuow me schoolma'am in Pendle
for the young leaves. All the birches was covered
Holler, over twenty years ago I remember with tawsels that swung in the air with the
as well as if 'tw.as only yesterday, how Deacon tender leaves, and the wind brought us the
Arza Pendle come over after me in a bellus-top smell of the young spruce cones, and the hem-
shay, and how Susan cried when she tied on lock buds that was sweeter than the very best
my bunnit, and how Archy slid my little trunk of the queer little bottles of perfume with out-
covered with a spotted calfskiu tacked on with landish letters all in gold printed on the glass,
brass nails, and my two first letters on the top that Flory h.is on her table up stairs. I heard
in brass nails, too under the seat, shook hands the birds singin' among the trees, .and my heai t
with me and
the deacon, and put up the bars begun to beat softer, and I was a'most glad that
afterwe drove out of the door yard. I looked I u:as goin' away from home, when all at once.
back when we had got to the bend in the road, Deacon Pendle spoke out for the first time,
where you lose sight of the house, and I could " Th.at 's a purly place over the lake yonder.
see Archy staudiu' lookin' after us yet. Susan's I wonder how it comes to be desarted.
"' I

winder w.as open, and if I didn't see her, I knew caught hold of the side of tlie shay, as if he
she was there, and I knew, too, how mnch had stnick me a blow with his great whip. I
they both hoped and feared for me. I hadn't couldn't help savin' "oh," such apainful feelin'
tried to do anything after John's death till then, of suffocation came over me all at once. My
and maybe I shouldn't have conrage enough to heart gave ajump and then a'most stood still.
keep me up after all but I kept s.ayin' to my-
; The Deacon looked scared when he turned
self all the time, " I will, I will ;" and I shut round and see bow I shook. He stopped his
my lips together tight, so thai I shouldn't even horse and jumped down as spry as a hoy.
68 GODET'S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

There was a little tin pail in the shay full of Jones's there was the Elder with a cotton han-
cabbage plants, that the Deacon had begged of kercher on his head under his hat, workiu' in
Archy, and now he flung 'em out, and run to the garden settin' beanpoles and bushin' peas.
the brook after some water. A hull swarm oi little Joneses was scootin'
I hadn't looked at the place where John died about the yard, and yellin' as if they was doin'
and was buried, before ;but I looked now, for it for the good of their lungs.

I could not hear it spoken of without feelin' as Bymeby we come to Deacon Pendles, a little
if I should die if I didn't look. house with a cool gigsy yard, and two great
Oh how pleasant it was ! How the lake shone clumps of yellow lilies at the corners of the
in the sun like a sea of fire, and the tops of house, and a little mite of a portico like one-
the maple trees on the hill brightened and half of a bird-cage.
darkened when the wind tossed them up and I stood on the door-step waitin' for my trunk

down Little patches of bushes had sprung up

! and the Deacon, when Mrs. Pendle opened the
ia the clearin's and around the house and I ; door. She poked back her specs, and looked
could see the two slender white birches in at me, and then pulled nie right into the house
the corner of the yard where John was buried. and made me sit down in a great green rockin'-
I looked at it, as I had a thousand times be- chair with a feather cushion all covered over

fore, as if the sight of that spot quenched a with red and blue merino stars. She said that
great thirst in my soul. I expected to have she knew me in a minit, for I was the very
been so happy. Somehow ray heart cried out image of my father, and "many and many 's

at times for a sight of the Paradise that would the times I've danced with Elnathan Broom-
have been mine, if the destroyer had not come corn," says she, all the time busy untying my
and left it desolate. I had time to think of all green calasli and takin' ofl'my shawl.
this before the Deacon come back with the She was a dreadful small woman, and had a
water. He had sense enough not to ask me spry, handy way of doin' things. Before the
what ailed me, and when I told him I felt Deacon got into the house she had a warin'
better, he got into the shay and we drove fire on the hearth, the teakettle hung on, and
along. the round top of the table turned down and
I like woods and among the
riding in the covered with a newly-bleached cloth. Then
hills, and I managed to gather enough courage she trotted in and out till I began to think we
and cheerfulness from the trees and birds and never should have anything to eat. Fust she
]io9ies to make me quite chirp by the time we brought a pile of white plates with copper-co-
got to the Holler. The Deacon talked, but as lored edges, then cups and saucers not a bit
lie didn't seem to expect me to answer, I didn't, bigger than Cousin Brewstir's egg-cups, a fat
and. I couldn't for my life tell what he said half little sugar bowl and cream pitcher to match,
the time only when we got purty near the
; an oval tea board with just such picters on it as
Holler, then he said that the red house yonder Miss Spanglebow's "Oryental Pieces" she is
was Squire Kinyon's, and that white one the so proud of. For eatables, there was wheat
minister's. There was the meetin'-house fur- biscuit, a round bake kittle loaf of iudjin,
thur up the Holler, and close by the scbool- honey, butter, cheese, plumsass, custard pie,
liouse, all shady with young maples and yon- ; and soft gingerbread.
der was his orchard and barn, we couldn't see I tliought was lumgry when I was out
I

the house. doors, but in the house, with nobody but stran-
I s'pose, of course, everybody knew the gers, I felt a little homesick, and could not eat.
schoolma'am was comin' when the Deacon's The Deacon urged, and his wife coaxed, and I
l)Orse and shay jogged up the road, and got a praised everything on the table till they was
sly peep at me as I passed for more than one
; satisfied. I wanted to go out doors again, because
white-headed boy jumped off the fence, and then I wasn't homesick. Somehow all the
come and stood by the road, and bobbed his out of doors world is pleasant to me, but I have
tow head at us as we rode along, grinnin' to get used to houses and peojde, before I can
dreadfully all the time to think he had got a feel athome with them. The Deacon's house
first sight of the schoolma'am. bad such a slick shiny look, as if there wasn't
There was Squire Kinyon drivin' some geese ever even the stir of a good hearty laugh in it,
into the barn to be picked, and they wouldn't that I felt a little afiaid.

be drove, so he coaxed them along with some After tea I went all over the yard and or-
corn then the widder Soul was scourin' a
; chards, and went with the Deacon to let the
churn on the well-stone and over at Elder
; cows out of the lane beyond the barn. Just as
 LETTERS FROM ACXT BET5Y BROOMCORN. 69

ire got down at the foot of the hill by the bars, by heart." I said I should like to hear them,
1 coaple of ragued boya jaiiipud off the stone for I was 'maziu' fond of verses, so ^le broke
wall, and ruu across the lieUls scrcamin' as off a laylock sprout, and began to switch the
loud as ever they could, "iSuhuolma'aiu, Suhool- barbel ry briers with it as she went on repeat-

lua'am." The Deacon lau^'hed so loud that it in' :

Ecart rae at first, but I had and

to laugh, tuo, "0 pluugbman, sparo tbal lily-rout;
so I forgot that I was a bit homesick, and was It 's very dear to me.
Don't desecrate its humble bed
as happy as possible all the time. 1 even woke
With impleuientF of husbaudry.
np in the night and laughed when I thought of
" I 've fioon yuar iron beol go down
the two boys.
Upon its tcuder leave-s,
The next day was Saturd.iy Snnd.iy I went ;
Aud for the dowers that never shall bloom
to meetiu' aud wore luy ne\y cambiic dress with My tender spirit grieves.
sleeves a good deal bigger I 'm afraid than "When last year's snmmer's fields was green,
anybody else's. The gallery was full of young I !.aw itproudly wave.
folks, and they snng about as loud as any sing- Its he:id all crowned with yeller flowera.
Where now 1 see its gi-ave.
ers I ever heard. The leader was a big man,
very blusterin', and he sung all four parts in the 'Sneh is the fate of beauty
Tpon this transient earth
compass of a single verse, dodgiu' about so that ;

It 's enamost as good as dead

I couldn't have foUered him, only, by the way, The minit it has birth.
the part he was helpin' started ahead of the hang my harp on a willow-tree.
I '11
rest, and made more noise, as if suddenly some- And mourn for the lily fair
body had given them a sly push. After ser- That was rooted out of its grassy nest
mon the folks that had come a good ways, sot By a rusty iron ploughshare."

around in the pews and talked, or strayed off
into the bnryin'-grounds, and a good many
come over to Deacon Pendles and picked sweet
Williams, and none-so-purtys in the yard, or
set in the front room and talked over the ser-
mon along with the Deacon and his wife.
There was a tall girl with an open-work straw
"Well," says she, takin' breath, "how do
yon like 'em ?"
I said
"I thonght it was very nice, but
seems to me they aint all in the same jingle. I
couldn't s^ing 'em all to the same tune, conld I f
"Of course not," says she, bridlin' up.
" a poet's license I 've used, to change as
It 's

hat, trimmed with blue roses, on her head, and I 've a mind to. It 's very handy to know how

a sprigged muslin gown aud crape iieck-li.in- to let a line out a little, if you want to get in a
kerclier, th.it walked about softly by herself, good word. Some words is wulh more than
lookin' into all the rosebushes and piney-buds, others they twist round so wavy and nachurab
;

after an "early flower," as she told me. I There's 'ploughshare;' it's as unaccommo-
thought she must like ro.ses, a lookin' after datin' as buckram. I gness it 's time to go to
tliem so early. She had a bnnch of camomile meetin' ; I see Elder Jones's wife shakin' her
in her belt, along with some wild honeysuckles. tablecloth out of the back door."
She asked me if I liked school-keepiu', and if Just then Squire Kinyon come along, and
I read verses, and if I could say every bit of Miss Button said she wouldn't wait for me ;

"Young Edwin." She told me she meant to
be Well acquainted with me. and asked me
what was my given name. When I said it was
Betsy Broomcorn, she looked as if she thought it
was a pretty common sort of a name. " Mine,"
says she, "is Matilda Mahala Button. Maybe
yon 've heard of me before ? I wrote some
Verses for Squire Kinyon when his wife died.
she wanted to sing over " Strike the Cymbal"
with the singers before meetin', so she opened
the gate and went out in time to walk down
with the Squire.
When Deacon Pendle's wife and I went into
meetin' again, they was savin' " bpread your
banners, shout hosanners, " as loud and sharp
as if they meant it.

I was .isked for ever so many copies, and finally The next day was Monday, and I begun my
they was published in the Slarri/ Banner news- school. The school-house was all scoured up
paper, and went the length aud breadth of the and trimmed with green bushes in the fir? place
land, I suppose. I 've got ever so mucli poetry and on the wall, and a new cedar broom stood
at home enough to make a good-sized book, behind the closet door. The children was like
for keep a copy of everything I ever wrote.
I a flock of blackbirds ; but I got along pretty
Elder Jones says I have qnite a nacharal gift well, foryon see I was used to Susan's boys,
for makin' verses. S'pose I repeat some I wrote and I had a knack of managin' children.
aijout a lily-root. I know almost everything I was to board with Deacon Pendle's fulks
70 godey's lady's book and magazine.

the week, and then at Parson Jones's, and

first much better speller than I am now. Oh dear !

so aroun4 the deestriot. Tliere 's some fun in I used to do better, I believe ; but I remember
boardin' round, and sometimes there 's a good with a sort of shame how hard I tried to under-
many hard spots hut I warn't a hit afraid of
; stand Brown's Grammar that spring, and how
them, for I was used to inakiu' the hest of desperately I figured over my old sums in
everything. Pike's shabby Arithmetic, and how I was troit-
When I walked home from school, I was bled for fear some of the children would be a
tired enough, can tell you, hut about a dozen
I littlefurther along than I, and how I bright-
of the children walked along with me, all talk- ened up my writing and spelling. But that 's
in' and laughin' at once, and the grass was so a long time ago, and I have got to be ruther a
soft and cool under my feet, and the white and poor speller. But dear me, I shall forget Miss
blue violets and dandelion heads looked so Button's verses :

party that I forgot all about it.

LINES TO A KINDRED SPIEIT.
Miss Pendle was feedin' her goslins under an
apple-tree when I went in, and I went out and Many years I 've been a seekin'
Of a sympathizin' mind,
broke off a lot of great pink blows, and sot on
Hopin', ere my youth was wasted.
lay table in a clieeny mug. After we had tea.
Such a blessin' I should find.
Miss Button come in with a terrible stiff pink
"What I wanted was a spirit
sunbunnet on, and went to talkin' with the Fond of Boarin' as my own,
Deacon. I never did hear such a talker. She One that warn't afraid of tliunder.
fairlyworried the Deacon, for he is ruther slow. Nor to walk the Btarry zone.
Says she " Brother Jones give us a better than
:
Oh, my pretty, pale, pink posey,

ordinary sermon, but seems to me his doctrine have found you out at last
I

Now my wings your head shall shadder.

is a little leanin' agin 'lection. Now, I should
feel all unsettled, and would as soon turn Uui-
varseler as anything, if I on'y thought for a
luiuit that 'lection wasn't true. As for quotin'
Scripter, Brother Jones does it pretty well but
seems to me I 'd quote the hymn-bonk, too.
And my two hands hold you fast.
When you see the moon a climbin'
Up the side hills of the skies.
And you see two big stars shiniu',
;
Make believe it is my eyes.
I I come to see yoa
shall think

Psalms is good I like 'em sprinkled over a

;
On a cloud as white as snow.
And I '11 make a gale from heaven
sermon like daiseys over a medder. Don't
Round your chamber winder blow.
you. Deacon Pendle ? Miss Pendle, how does
Oh the gloiy of our futur,
your goslins get along ? Mother had a nice Like a summer sundown shines,
passle come off, but the weasles and minks When we see the specks of fire
oatched about all of 'em. You allers have lu the long, slim, yeller lines.
good luck, though. Miss Broomcorn, aint you Ton are pale as sorrel posies
a goin' to say somethin', or be you allers so Growin' by a shady spring ;

dumb?" I am like a medder lily

Where the bobolinks do sing.
I declareI hadn't had a chance to speak be-
But yon are the kindred spirit
fore, and didn't then, for she kept right on a
I been seekin' all the while,
've
talkin', first to one and then another, till it Mournin' like a lonely sparrow
begun to grow dark, and she got ready to go For a sympathizin' smile.
lium. I went down to the gate with her, and Now I 've found you, I can soar

she picked a laylock for me to lay under my For a poet's celestial crown
piller, and then she gave me a sheet of pink
Higher than any went before,
And fetch a flood of glory down.
paper, folded up diamond-shape, with my name
on it in the middle of a mess of posies, carle- Well, after I went to bed, I laid awake ever
cues, and stars, all made off as neat as could so long, thinkin' it over. Miss Button was a
be with a pen. curis girl. I didn't pretend to know about
After I went up to my little chamber, I kindred spirits ; but if there was any m-anin'
opened the paper and read the verses. I don't in what she wrote, had 1 onehter write some-
suppose there 's any harm in copyin' them off thin' back to her or not ? I knew I couldn't
for you. The paper is faded and old-lookin', come up to her, and after thinkin' it over and
and the ink looks a dirty brown color. I have over, I concluded I wouldn't try. If I did, she
always kept it along with my letters and the might lauph at m^ seein' she knew so much
others Miss Button give me that summer. I'll more about poetry than I did. So I pretended
copy it off just as it is. Miss Button wasn't a not to be able to make rhymes at all, and I
 POETKY. 71

praised Miss Button's verses all I could. I

Quick, quick, for moments are ages
I
Ah, ha! ha! ha ! thanks '11 fly
shall tell you about my boardiu' at Parsou
Back, hack, little crowd God bless yout
Jones's next time I write to you. Urewstir
Mother, I 've money don't die.
wants me to 50 with him to be painted in tjouie
kind of a gratF, I can't remember what, so good-
by. Your obedient, WHERE I WOULD REST.
Betpt Broomcorn.
BY J. BBAINBBD HOBOAN.
Whrn all life's shifting scenes are o'er,
Aud here and weep-
've ceased to smile
THE BEGGAR'S APPEAL. I

Fore er have pass'd from earth's drear shore

BT MRS. JOH C. WISANS. And lain me down in death's long sleep,
One irroat from the silver that clangs I ask not that the sculptured stone
la th 'broiiier'd purse at your side: Should proudly tower toward the sky,
One ijToat for the bei,'ir:ir-l)iiy's hand, Telling to every careless one
Ftoio the hand uf the rich man's bride. Where uiy mouldering ashes lie;
I amtarnished with woe and want Or that the thoughtless and the gay
Kind lady, hear while I plead: Arnund my sleeping dust should come
Of the plenty lyinj? about, There to sport the hours away,
Only an atom I need. Lured by the >plendor of my tomb ;
Or not amid the worldly great,
Th^re *9 a hovel over the waste,
With costly monuments around
Wretchedly cold aud bare:
(All hollow mockeries of their state)
A heap of straw in a corner
My mother is starving there. May my last resting place be found.

She is starviuij' God, do yoa know

!
Withiu a village churchyard lone.
You, housed in comfort and ease, Beneath a spreading oak-tree's shade,
H'^w many naked and hungry, A father and a brother gone
The pitileaa winters freeze? In dreamless rest are lowly laid ;

She used to be op and toiling, Ay, aud a mother's sacred dust

Before dawn lighted yon hill In death's long sleep there calmly lies,
;

Waiting in peaceful, hopeful trust,

And she toiled till midnight nearing.
Till Gild at leugtlf shall bid it rise
Our three little mouths to fill :

Bui her face has grown so ghastly, In His own image, pure and fair,

Aud her form so spectral thin, Up to the heavenly plains above,

I dream whenever I "m sleeping
Where ne'er can come dark pain or care,
But all is endless bliss and love ;
Of the grave they will bury her In.
There, in that spot to memory dear,
Idraw my cold limbs together. Kear which bright boyhood's days were past.
And mon through the dismal night. When life was fair and skies were clear.
And watch for the coming of day Oh let me rest in peace at last
To sliut out the horrible sight
, Itcomes. I say my prayers softly, Then let no stranger soil receive

Fearing that she will awake, This useless form when life has fled,
And with hunger reptile-like gnawing, But make my humble lowly grave
The round of a beggar take. Near to my heart's own loved dead ;

Let the sweet birds that sing above,

I get a kick or cuff from men, When summer's sunny days have come,
Eating the fat of the land ; Trill forth the selfsame songs of love,
And now and then a lone penny The same soft strains o'er our last home.
Grulffiugly drops in my hand ; And if perchance some faithful friend
Dropi into my hand, and away With flowers should mark my place of rest,
For a loaf aud fagot small Oh may their rising perfume blend
80 very little sufflceth With that from off my mother's breast
The narrow wants of us all. Then lay me down when life shall cease
Give me. oh give of your plenty
Cltise hy my loved ones gone before.

My darling mother to save t

Till we shall wake in joy and peace
I cannot bear she should leave me Aud meet again to part ne'er more.'
For the dark and loathsome grave.
X have heard her t'dl of the worms

That eome and fatten them there: When minds are not in unison, the worrTs of
How they eat of the crumbling flesh. love itSHlf are but the rattling of the chain that
Till the bones are shining bare-
tells the victim it is bound.
But what in yonrhand is gleaming?
A MAx's favorite prejudice is the nose of his
Money ! britrlit guld, do I see?
yonr feet I am kneeling.
mind, wliit-h he follows into whatsoever pre-
Lo. at
Dear lady, give it to me 1
dicament it mav lead him.
 LESTEE'S EEVENGE.
IT ANNA M. BIN GEN.

CHAPTER I. again love as she had done. Esteem was all

"To be weak is miserable." she could give, and she certainly did esteem

Lizzie Howakd sat in her luxnrious room

the generous stranger, who offered her his pro-
with her hands lying idly in her lap, and a
tection. She married for a home, as so many
weary, dissatisfied look shadowing her gentle
have done, bnt she resolved to strive to he, as
she promised when she spoke her bridal vows,
face. She was a fair mild woman, something
" a loving, true, and faithful wife." He took
over thirty years of age. Her deep blue eyes
her away to his beautiful estate in Kentucky,
liad lost none of their lustre, but early sorrow
and their marriage was far happier than she
liad given them a serious, pleading look which
had any right to hope. Ten years passed
never failed to attract strangers. It had at-
rapidly away then Lester Howard was gath-
;
tracted Mr. Howard, when, twelve years before
ered to his fathers, and his wife wept passionate
our story opens, he visited New York city and
* tears of heartfelt grief as she and her boy fol-
found her in the care of her aunt, the fashionable
lowed him to the tomb. Time had, in a great
Mrs. Carey.
measure, soothed her sorrow, and when two
He inquired her history, and learned that
years after his death, we first introduced her
when her father died she was found to be pen-
to the reader, she had become quietly cheerful.
niless, instead of, as was supposed, an heiress.
She sat, as we said, with her hands lying idly
Then when, in her bewildered grief, she turned
in her lap, but beneath them was a letter which
to her betrotlied lover for sympathy he quietly
informed her that his fortune was too small for

she had just perused a letter from the faith-
less lover of her girlhood. The words were
him to hopesupply her with the luxuries to
to
earnest and ardent for William Allen could
;
which she w.as accustomed; and he would not
talk well but Lizzie felt they were not en-
;

ask her to live without them. She cluug to

tirely truthful, and (so strange a thing is the
him, and told him in broken timid words how
human heart) tried to reason herself out of the
valueless were all these luxuries when com-
belief.
pared with his love but he coldly replied that
;

" He has always loved me, he says, and I

he had more worldly wisdom than she, and she
believe he has, though he is so refined, so luxn-
must let him decide for both. Another week
rious in his tastes, that he felt it impossible to
and William Allen had sailed for Europe and ;

Lizzie was eating the hitter, bitter bread of de- marry me when we were both poor. If he had
pendence, in her uncle's house. been rich, no doubt he would have acted differ-
Lester Howard was a widower when he heard ently. Mr. Howard called him a despicable

this little history. The years of sorrow he had wretch but then he was so much nobler and
;

endured, as he saw the wife of his youth fade better than other men that he could not sympa-

slowly away under the destroying hand of con- thize with common frailties. I hope Letty will

sumption, had prepared him to sympathize in he high-spirited and generous like his father, I
the grief of others. His naturally haughty believe he will he seems even now to despise
;

spirit was roused in bitter scorn toward the anything mean."

f.vithless lover, while he deeply pitied the de-
who was so evidently miserable in
solate girl,
her new home. He sought her out, and after
a short acquaintance, offered her his hand an
fiffer which she gratefully hut sadly accepted.
Do not judge her too harshly.
and amiable, but utterly lacking in self-reliance
and that any one would suppose she could sup-
port herself, did not occur to her.
A rich glow, a glow of motherly pride came
to her cheeks. Ah, Lizzie Howard, if you had
only tried to imitate the virtues you admired
; so much, how far better it had been for you.
But she could not. The old feelings of her girl-
She was gentle hood had been aroused. Though her idol had
been proved to he clay, she loved him yet, and
determined to marry him, when her instinct, her
conscience forbade when a loftier spirit would
;

Marriage and deatH seemed to her the only have turned from him in utter scorn.
avenues of escape from the cutting remarks Think pityingly of her, dear reader. Re-
which so deeply wounded her sensitive spirit. member that those who by weak or wicked
Besides this, she did not believe she could ever acts make their own misery, have, when that

72
 LESTEK S REVENGE. 73

misery comes, the torture of reflecting tbat it and was informed of her contemplated mar-
might have been avoided. Thus the affrighted riage.
sinner who trembles and shudders as death " 'i'ou do not mean to tell me that this is the
appears in view, remembers with terrible same Allen that deserted you when your father
agony how many precious opportunities he has died," he said in indignant astoni^^liment.
slighted how many times he has heard the
; "Yes; but he has been very sorry since,"
gracious offer, " Though your sins be as scarlet, she replied, cisting down her eyes.
they shall be as white as suow." "Sorry you would see how sorry he
1 yes,
Mrs. Howard arose, and walking to the win- woulil you were poor. His con.-^cieuca
be if

dow, looked across the shady piazza to the would not trouble him then, I '11 warrant."
green lawn which sloped down to the road, "You judge him very unkindly. Brother
winding along the river bank. There was little James," she said, tearfully.
Lester, a noble-looking boy almost ten years " No, Lizzie, I do not wish to do that but just ;

old, talking to old Tom who was busily engaged think of has done, and tell me
all this man
trimming some shrubbery. what reason yon have to suppose him less
"Now, Tom," he said, "I want you to go mercenary thau formerly?"
and saddle my new horse I am going to ride
; "Why, he s.iys he is perfectly willing to
him." have my property so settled on me that he c.in-
" Can't do it. Massa Letter, 'pon no 'count not touch it. I)oes not that prove him disinte-
'cause you know Massa Jauies he said how rested?"
you mustn't ride any horse till he 'd rode his- "No, it does not, when, as he well knows,
self, " said Tom, decidedly. you are so yielding that it would be under his
"Massa James," as Tom called him, was control as much as if in his possession ; besides,
Lester's uncle and guardian, who resided on a ashe has, no doubt, informed himself, your
neighboring plantation. property is in the form of an annuity, payable
"Never mind what he says," said the boy, only to you or your order so he makes a ;

" I want my horse, and besides, how can he virtue of necessity."

ride himself?" "I do not believe he ever asked anything
"Haw, haw, haw, "laughed Tom, "you know .ibout it. You are determined to think ill of
what I mean, Massa Let and you know Massa
: him."
Jnmes would be awful if I 'd go git your horse " Not so. would be glad
to have a better
I

after he tailed me not to." opinion of him, but and I do earnestly

I cannot ;

" But Cncle J.ames has no right to say whiit entreat you to consider what unhappiness this
I shall do nobody has but mamma, and she
; will bring to Lester as he grows up."
don't try." "You tliink all for Lester and none forme.
Mrs. Howard's heart sank as she heard these I am sure 1 shall be a great deal happier."
words. "How would William and Lester agree ? "Do be reasonable, Lizzie." But at this
William who alwjiys loved to rule, and Lester moment Lester came bounding into the room.
who would not be ruled." "Uncle James, why can't I ride the hor.e
If there should be trouble between them, Uncle Carey sent me ? Tom won't saddle him
what could she do ? Lester had inherited not for me, because he s.ays you told him not to."
only his father's deep dark eyes and high white " You may now, my boy I tried him this ;

forehead, but his indomitable will, his imperi- morning, and do not think there will be any
ous temper. His mother was very proud of danger. But, Letty, what do yon think of
these qualities, but she realized that the calm, having some one take your father's place ?"
polished, yes, and selfish, William Allen would " What do you mean ?" asked Lester.
look upon them differently. "Why, how would you like to have your
"Perhaps, after all, she had better remain a mamma marry some one who would come here
widow it might be better for the boy she so
; and order you around ?"
dearly loved. But then she loved William too, " He had better not try that," said the boy,
and Brother James would not allow Lelty to hotly. Mrs. Howard looked very deprecating.
be imposed upon, even if any one felt so dis- " He will not think of such a thing, my dar-
posed, which, of course, no one would." The ling ; he will love you and be kind to you, i'
last words were spoken aloud, as if she was you will call him father, and act as if yo-
determined to convince herself of their truth. thought him such."
Need we tell her decision ? Three days after, " I won't c.iU him father. So there, now !'
Mr. James Howard visited his sister-in-law, was the ungracious answer which delighted
VOL. LXVI. 7
7i godet's lady's book and magazine.

his uncle and moved his mother's tears. This The horses were brought to the door. Mr.
was Lizzie's last resort in all her contests with Allen having assisted his wife to mount, was
her impetuous son, and never failed to bring looking to something about his own saddle
him to terms. "Yes, I will, dear mother. ,
when Lester came bounding out.
I'll call him anything you want me to," he "Are you going out riding, mamma? You
said, with ready contrition. " I '11 call him look real pretty" and the boy looked admir-
grandpapa, if you wish," he added, with a ingly at the delicate roses which happiness was
merry twinkle in his eye. A smiling sob from bringing to his mother's cheek. His look
his mother and a glance of grim amusement changed, however, as he saw his pet horse, the
from his uncle were the rewards for this gene- pride of liis young heart, standing ne,ar. "Why,
rous proposal. that is you mustn't ride Hannibal
Hannibal ;

They were married. William Allen, the
spendthrift, who had never yet done anything
for his own support, but had sacrificed the pro-
perty his father left him at the gaming table,
and was now (though this was not known) al-
most penniless and Lizzie Howard, who now
; with many forebodings.
renewed the vows of her early girlhood.
Sis weeks were spent in travelling then
they came back to Kentucky, for Mr. Allen said
he would not tear his Lizzie from the home to
which she was so attached. Lester, who had
spent the intervening weeks with his uncle,
was delighted to see his mother again, and for
two brief d.ays Mrs. Allen had the happiness of
nobody him but me," he said, his
is to ride
cheeks growing red and hla dark eyes very
brilliant.
"Why, Letty, dear, you will let papa ride
your horse," said Lizzie, cheerfully, though
"No, I won't. There are plenty of other
; horses he can take, but he sha'n't have Hanni-
bal," he replied, his breast heaving rapidly, as
he resolutely winked away the tears of which
he was ashamed.
"Come, come, young gentleman!" said Mr.
Allen in a tone of authority. "No more of
this, you please. I like this horse better
if

seeing that her husbaud and son seemed to than any of the others, and shall ride him."
like each other. The third morning after their " Yon shall not he is mine he is mine !"
! !

return the newly-made husband walked out to screamed Lester, now bursting into a passion
inspect the stables. of tears, and jumping up and down on the steps
I
"Whose horse is this?" said he, pausing in his boyish wrath. "You have no right to
beside one. him Uncle Carey sent him to me." Mrs. Al-
;

" Massa Letter's," replied Tom, respectfully. len looked at her boy,and knew that it would
" He 's rode that horse most since he could sit be useless now to attempt to expostulate with
alone. This one is Misse Howard's beg par- him. Then she turned tremblingly to her
don, sah, mean Misse Allen's." husband.
"Well, Allen isn't a hard name to remem- "William, please come here a moment."
ber, is it?" said Tom's new master, smiling Very unwillingly he complied, and went and
with an affability which quite won his heart, stood by her. "0 William," she whispered,
and he replied with alacrity timidly, " don't take Letty's horse he almost ;

" Oh no, massa, not hard at all ; bery easy, idolizes it."
in fao'." "Lizzie," he answered, sternly, "do you
"And whose is this one?" said Mr. Allen, mean ask me to yield to a boy of ten ?"
to
stopping and gazing delightedly at the beauti- How her coward heart quaked bow she !

ful animal which Mr. Carey had sent as a pre- longed to say, " Respect his rights, and he will
sent to the son of his "beloved niece." respect you !" when all she replied was " Oh, :

"That's Massa Letter's, too. His Uncle I don't want to ride; I am going into the

Carey sent it to him from New York 'bout four house."

months ago, and he jess thinks there never was
such another."
Mr. Allen walked round and round the horse,
and then turned to Tom. "Saddle him and
bring him round to the hotise and bring your
mistress's too."
Tom scratched his head doubtfully.
"No, you will not," he said, determinedly.
"Stay where you are." And she dared not
disobey. He turned to where Hannibal stood
impatiently pawing the ground, and Lester saw
; him coming. Poor boy, how indignantly his
nngoverned heart swelled as he looked at the
" Massa horse, his borse Then he looked down the
!

Letter don't like nobody to ride him but jess lawn, and saw the carri.age gate standing tempt-
hisself." ingly open. A sudden light gleamed in his

" Do as I tell you," was the haughty reply. eyes. He sprang from the high step where he
 LESTER'S REVENGE. 75

stood to Uaunibal's back, jerked the leiu from to have Hannibal kept iu his stables, for Mr.
Tom's liaiiil, and galloped off. Allen would ride him, spite of all the boy could
"Stop him, you rascal, you!" said Mr. Al- say. Mr. Howard readily consented, and gave
len, iua toue of couceiitrated passion, and Tom strict orders that the horse should never bo
ran down the lawn shouting, " 8tiip, Massa taken out except at his nephew's command.
Letter," but rejoicing iu the depths of his So Lester would ride over on his old horse,
honest old heart in the knowledge that " lil;issa then mount Hannibal and go where he chose,
Letter" would not stop. but before he came home he always changed
"We may as well go in the house, Lizzie," back ; and his stepfather, though he often saw
said Mr. Allen, with an icy smile, when Tom the coveted horse, could not gain possession.
came back and said he " 'clared Massa Letter He had many sources of vexation toward the
went like the wind." His wife looked wonder- new difficulties seemed continually to
boy, for
ingly at him she could not understand this
; arise between them, and since he had renewed
sudden cooling of his temper but she went ; his old habits of gaming, there was an added
into the house and lay down iu a state of ex- provocation in the fact that his wife's income,
haustion. large as it was, was not sufficient for his con-
When Lester came back from his ride, and tinued demands. James Howard, who tho-
had sent Hannibal to the stable, he entered the roughly despised him, would never pay it one
house in a half defiant, half frightened mood, day before it became due, nor would he permit
and was met by his stepfather. him to interfere iu the slightest degree in the
"Lester," said he, coldly, "don't let me see management of Lester's estate. He fretted
you do such a thing again. I will excuse you and chafed under this restraint, and often in
this time but if you try it again, I will assur-
; his heartwished the boy dead, for then Lizzie
edly pnnish you." would inherit all, and not be limited to an an-
"Just you dare to lay your hand on me," nuity.
said the boy, with blazing eyes, "and I 'U One day, three years after Mrs. Allen's second
I '11" marriage, Lester having obtained jiermission
" What will you do ?" was the mocking ques- from the teacher who was now employed to
tion.
take charge of his studies was walking along
" I '11 go and live with Uncle .lames ; and the river bank about a mile from his home.
when I grow up, I '11 turn you out of doors," He had strolled away from the road which was
exclaimed Lester, looking resolutely in his face. here a little back from the river, had gone fur-
Mr. Allen did not doubt he would, if he had ther than he meant to, and was about to turn
the power. back, when he saw a veil of his mother's
"Lizzie," he said, an hour later, "does not hanging on a bush which grew on an island
this house belong to you .'" some few rods from the shore. He and his
" No," she replied, with languid indifference. mother, with little Alice, her nurse, and old
"Only till Letty is of age. I have nothing of Tom, had visited the island a few days before,
my own but my annuity." and when they came away, Mrs. Allen could
Her husband turned wrathfuUy away he ; not find her veil. " I will go and get it now,"
was already beginning to hate his stepson. thought the boy, looking for the boat which
Time passed slowly on, marked by continued usually lay moored there, but the boat was
hostility between Lester and Mr. Allen, till Mrs. gone. The river was very high, and the cur-
Allen came to dread seeing them together. A rent rapid, but Lester was not easily discour-
daughter was born to her, a fair, lovely little aged. Two or three planks which had been
creature, over whose cradle she spent her hap- by the high water were drifting past,
carried off
piest hours. When her husband was away and with the aid of a long pole he managed to
(and now this frequently happened, for in a bring one to shore, and stepping on it found it
neighboring town Mr. Allen had found a num- would support his weight.
ber of congenial spirits), she, and Lester, and There was a large tree growing on the edge of
the little Alice would really enjoy themselves, the island, its long branches reaching far over
aud the boy would forget his waywardness iu the water, and their extremities bending almost
the deep love he bore to his mother and sister. to it. As the boy neared the land standing on
But his stepfather's return was sure to bring one end of his plank and using his pole as an
tumult, and the unhappy wife would be almost oar, the forwardend struck against this tree so
distracted between husband and son. Lester suddenly and with such force as to throw him
had gone to his uncle and begged permission off into the water. Instinctively he caught at
76 GODEY 3 LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

the branches over his head, and in a moment on without once turning to look at the strug-
his unwieldy boat iloated off. Lester was no gling boy. Dismounting at the gate, he walked
swimmer, and if lie had been, his strength was up the lawn, and little Alice, who was there
not equal to a contest with tlie swift waters with her nurse, came toddling up to meet
but he tried to move his hands along the him.
branches and so draw himself toward shore. As he took her and she stroked
in his arms,
Finding that with every such effort the slen- his face with her dimpled hands, had he no
der twigs broke off, leaving liim to grasp at thought of two other hands gleaming wliitely
others equally slender, he desisted, for he saw and coldly from the dark mass of waters ? As
that those he now held were the last which the blue eyes were raised in childish confidence
drooped within his reach. He screamed for to his, did he not think of those darker ones
help till almost exhausted, but the only an- now growing dim in their deep despair ? He
swers which came to his ears were the sighing entered the house, and sitting by his wife's
of the wind and the rushing of the waters. He side with his child in his arms, talked to both
called again,and shouted till his voice died out with more than his usual aflfection. Lizzies
in a husky whisper, but still no reply. Then eyes beamed brightly.
he looked toward the island. It was not very " I wish, dear William, you would be a little
far of maybe if he was to let go he could reach
; more patient with Letty," she said, with un-
it. But no, he dared not try, he would hold wonted boldness.
on, perhaps some one would come along. At He kissed the little one, perhaps to hide the
last, when hope had almost died, he heard (oh spasm which crossed his face, as he replied,
blessed sound 1) horse's hoofs ringing sharply "Well, I'll try, Lizzie. I do think a great
along the road. He turned as much as he deal of him but sometimes he provokes me
;

could, and saw that the rider was Mr. Allen. into saying things I do not mean."
"Father! father!" he shrieked (that word "Oh, I know that," she answered, gratefully,
had not crossed his lips for months before), "but he does not mean it either he is quick- ;

"father, come and help me or I shall be tempered, you know."

drowned. Oh, father, father I" The dinner-bell rang. " Where is Lester,
The horseman was riding rapidly and was Mr. Banks ?" asked Mrs. Allen, as her son's
now opposite him, though the trees between tutor took his seat at the table.
them partly hid him from view. "Father, " I do not know he plead so earnestly that
;

help me !" Still he rode on, he was past him, his head ached, and he wanted to go out in the
now; the boy could see him plainly. "Oh, fresh air, that I let him go."
father, I '11 never be ugly again ! I '11 do just " hope he will not go near the river," said
I

what you tell me. You shall have everything Mr. Allen, unable to keep his thoughts from
I 'vegot. I '11 give you Hannibal, " he screamed that one channel.
in his terrible agony but the horseman rode
;
" I do not apprehend any danger for him, if
ou. Turn back, William Allen now when ; he does," replied Mr. Banks, wondering at this
you can win the warm love and gratitude of sudden solicitude, but Lizzie thought she un-
that generous boyish heart, smoothing away derstood it, and smiled her gratitude.
past difficulties and binding him to you forever ;
It was hard for the guilty man to still his

when you can save the child your gentle wife upbraiding conscience enough to join in con-
almost idolizes and win a hearty grasp of the versation and when the meal was over, he
;

hand from James Howard, prejudiced as he is made an excuse to go away, taking care to ride
against you. Let not this foul crime be added up the river, though all his thoughts went in

to your dread account. Do not do a deed which an opposite direction. He had not been long
you gone, and his wife and Mr. Banks were sitting
"Shall blush to own in the parlor, when there was a sound of shuf-
When your spirit stands before the throne.'* fling feet and frightened voices in the hall, and
No doubt his conscience whispered all this ;
stepping to the door, Lizzie saw old faithful
but he had that day lost largely at the gaming Tom with her dripping boy in his arms.
table, and was pondering what he should do "He isn't dead, missus ; don't you go get
when he saw Lester in the water. A dark
first scairt, don't you see he is jess peryausted ?"

temptation came to his mind. Why should he She leaned over him in bewildered silence
help the boy he hated ? lie had only to leave and the poor tired arms were feebly placed
him where he was, and independence, yes around her neck. "0, mamma!" he whisp-
ered, "I thought I should never see you again.
'

wealth, would be his. So William Allen rode

 Lester's revenge. 77

" Are you sure you are uot hurt, my dar- I rode out immediately after dinner. Almost
ling ?" drowned, did you say ?"
" I trust lie is not," said Mr. Banks ;
" but " Yes, that is what Jack said."
perhaps we had better send for the doctor."' "Strange," said the guilty man, with a
"Yes, do," she replied; "and tell them to sinking heart. The little contrition he had felt
stop and ask Brother James Uowaid to come was all lost in the horror of the thought that
over. I wish I knew where to send for Mr. Lester would tell what had occurred. Feeling
Allen." Mr. Howard came immediately, and very much agitated, but not daring to stay
Mrs. Allen met him at the door. away, he accompanied the physician up stairs.
" How happen, Lizzie ?"
did it "What does all this mean?" lie said, ad-
" I don't know. Mr. Banks said I had better dressing his wife. " The doctor tells me Les-
not talk to him till he is a little rested. They ter is hurt."
are undressing him now. "The doctor tells you!" said Mr. Howard,
" Where did Tom find him ?" with bitter scorn. "Do yon attempt to say
" Down by the island holding the bushes to first you knew of it
that was the ?"

keep himself from sinking." "Most assuredly I do. How else should I

" Has Mr. Allen come back from town ?" know?"
"Yes; he came just before dinner, but he " Lester says he called to you as you passed,
had gone away some place before Tom came." and you would not stop."
" Missus, Massa Banks says you go up now, " 1 didn't hear him call. Where was he ?"
if you want to," said Tom. Lester was much "Y'ou could not help hearing me," said the
revived. He had been undressed and rubbed boy, resolutely. " I was by the island, and I
by Mr. Banks' direction, and that gentleman called just when you was opposite, and kept
was now holding a wineglass to his lips as he on till you was out of sight. When Tom heard
lay in bed. His mother laid her head on his me, he was a great deal farther off."
pillow and silently kissed his cheek while his ;
" I certainly did not hear you," said Mr.
uncle, taking his hand, said: "Why, Letty, Allen, determinedly.
my littleman, how did tliis happen ?" " I am so glad to hear you say so." said his
"0, uncle! I saw mamma's veil, and I wife, with quivering lips. "You don't know
wanted to get it but the plank struck so hard
; how William!"
1 felt,

I fell otf, and I 'd have been drowned if I hadn't " Why, Lizzie, you surely did not believe
caught hold of the branch of that big tree." such a thing of me. Lester's accident must
"And our good Tom found you there, did have turned his head." he replied, wiping the
he?" perspiration from his forehead.
" Yes," said the boy, his face suddenly dark- The physician had been leaning over the bed,
ening. " Mr. Allen passed, and I screamed to professing not to hear this colloquy.Mr. How-
him, and called him father, and begged him to ard walked back and forth in deep thought
help me, and told him he should have all I had, suddenly he paused. "Doctor, Mr. Banks,

but he wouldn't stop he wanted me to die." you are both men of honor. Will you promise
"0, Letty, Letty!" said Mrs. Allen, im- me never to mention this wretched transaction
ploringly. abroad?"
"He could not have heard you," said Mr. "Certainly," said both gentlemen.
Howard, looking very grave. "Lester," continued his uncle, "will here-
"Yes, he did you know what a little ways
; after live with me I am his guardian, and
;

it is from the river to the road along there ; will take charge of him."
and 1 called just as he was passing. I never "You shall not take him away from his
screamed so loud before in my life I didn't ; mother; I will not permit it," said Mr. Allen,
know I could." haughtily.
The poor wife shivered, and placed her hand Mr. Howard turned
full upon him. "Just
over her eyes. " Letty, it can't be true 1" yon try keep him, and I will publish thi-:
to
" Indeed it is, mother." shameful story you will not find this part of
;

The doctor rode rapidly up, arriving at the the country very pleasant to live in after that."
gate just as Mr. Allen did. Poor Lizzie sobbed bitterly. " I am sure
"Why, doctor, what is the hurry?" Lester is mistaken, brother James."
"I ought to ask yon. Y'our Jack came for "Perhaps so, but henceforth he will live
me: said Lester was almost drowned." with me."
"Lester Why, I had not heard of it but
! ; And so Lester Howard went to live with his
7*
78 godey's lady's book and magazine.

uncle, anil his unliappy mother saw him but We well remember the efi'ect of them
dition.
her husband disliked to have her go
rarely, for when we were lounging in the dull, broad
to Mr. Howard's, growing petulant and moody street of Fiesole, a place more noted for its
when she did so ; and slie did not feel like Pelasgic and other historical remains than for
tirgiug her boy to come to his old home, when any modern attraction. It was a, fete day, the
he steadily refused to speak to his stepfather. Duomo was gaudily furnished for the occasion,
Thongh her heart often grew sick with vain and the bells struck up a merry invitation to
longings for his presence, the love and fear she the service, which all the younger part of the
felt for her husband were too great to permit population seemed duly to accept. The youths
her to express her wishes. Her face grew thin who came early showed anything but an anx-
and pale a few months seemed to add many
; iety to secure good places inside
in fact, loi-
years to her bowed and drooping head, and the tered about to see the successive batches of
little face of her unconscious babe was often damsels well in first, with or without any idea
bedewed with the bitterest tears poor Lizzie of profiting by that sort of introduction to the
had ever shed, for all past trials were light, solemnities of the evening. We watched them
compared to this. likewise; and, seeing as a novelty to us that
(To be continued.) they took off the flapping hats at the entrance
of the Duomo, we were tempted to look in and M
see what they did with them. We soon found ^
HEAD GEAR IN THE SOUTH OF EUROPE. that,although white veils have the chief place
in old ecclesiasticalcostumes, the rule was for
American and English females have little
each female to put on a black one. And, since
notion of the artistic effect of wearing, as many by another rule they all fell on their knees, the
of the better sex do m
Lombardy, those very process of adjusting their veils had to be gone
becoming black which cover a greater
veils,
through in that position. The unfolding, pull-
part of the head, neck, and shoulders. They ing, squaring, etc., of the covering, the constant
would also be astonished for awhile at meeting fidgeting of the wearer, and her evident critical
in the streets of Genoa with something very
anxiety about the success of others in grace-
different from any coverings for the heads used fulness, all on the hard marble floor, seemed
hereabouts in the mnslin Pezzotto, which is likely, in our view, to increase the difliculties
pinned into the hair of the ladies, and floats of devotion under the circumstances ; but theu
away from it, and in the gaudy Mazzaro scarf, we had uo license to judge.
which is worn by their poorer neighbors. There
is something to look at in the showy handker-

chiefs of the Livornese, and something to ad-

mire in the pretty white shawl which adorns
while partially concealing the locks of the
ones of Bologna. The white folded square
which painters commonly place upon the head
Acts or Kindness. Kindness makes sunshine
fair
wherever it goes it finds its way into the hid-
den treasures of the heart, and brings forth
treasures of gold harshness, on the contrary,
;

of their plebeian figures belonging to Rome will
probably disappoint the observer so far as the
is concerned, for it is not often worn
place itself
by any but those wrinkled dames who used to
play on the banks of the Tiber some time last
century, and are now too conservative to sub-
mit to any new-fangled notion about showing
the world the exact state or quantity of their
residue of capillary attraction. Where we can
suppose our countrywomen a little envious is
in the neighborhood of Florence, itself the great
centre of straw-plait manufacture, where the
damsels come forth to captivate the hearts of
certain open-mouthed swains, in their large,
flapping hats, so limp as to take all sorts of
shapes witli the passing breeze, and yet so well
made as to return forthwith to their normal con-
seals them forever. What does kindness do at
home ? It makes the mother's lullaby sweeter
than the song of the lark, the care-laden brows
of the father and the man of business less
severe in their expression, and the children
joyous without beiug riotous. Abroad, it as-
sists the fallen, encourages the virtuous, and
looks with true charity on the extremely unfor-
tunatethose in the broad way, who perhaps
had never been taught that the narrow path
was the best, or had turned from it at the
solicitation of temptation. Kindness is the real
law of life, the link that connects earth with
heaven, the true philosopher's stone, for all it
touches it turns to virgin gold the true gold,
wherewith we purchase contentment, peace,
and love.
 NOVELTIES FOR JANUARY.
Fig. 1. Fig. 2.
so godey's lady's booe and magazine.

Fig. 1. Fancy morning-cap, composed of on the front of the arm is trimmed round with
tulle, lace, and mauve ribbon. a ruohing of ribbon, and discloses the handsome
Fig. 2. Houiton coiffure. lace under-sleeve.
Fig. 3. Fancy dinner-cap, made of white T/te " Madrihna." This elegant sleeve can
lace, and trimmed with cherry ribbon and be made up a great variety of ways, and in
in
flowers. any rich material. It is superb in velvet, with
Fig. 4.
Fancy muslin uudersleeve, trimmed inserted puffings of satin. The sleeve itself is

with rose-colored ribbon and black velvet ro- quite plain, tlie puffings supplying all the ful-
settes.
Fig. 5.
Fancy muslin nndersleeve, trimmed
with ribbons and velvet.

Fig. 6.

:^
fom "'^ij[

Fig. 6. Fancy collar.

ness. The centre one extends in a point above

PATTERNS FROM MADAME DEMOREST'S the elbow, and each of the three is surrounded
ESTABLISHMENT, by a quilling of velvet or ribbon. The wrist is

No. 473 Broadway, New York, loose to slip over the hand, and is finished with
a puffing of ribbon and quilling to match.
" Spanish" Sleeve. An elegant sleeve in silk
Freddie Dress. This is a simple sack dress,
or gren.idine. It Is a small bishop in shape,
with a seam at each side, and made back and
the fulness laid in box-plaits at the top, and
front alike, except the addition of pockets in
front, and is just put over the head and tied

with a cord aliout the waist. The drawing is

taken from a fine striped Mohair dress, braided
with black two and a quarter yards of material
;

will make it.

Josie Sack. This is a pretty sack, with a
side jacket, which extends only to the seam
under the arm. The belt is carried entirely
gathered into a loose band, to which is attached round the waist. The sleeve is narrow, and a
a deep lace at the wrist. A wide gore cut out false piece set on in folds the whole garment
;
 WOBK DEl-ARTMEXT. 81

is trimmed witli braid in a simple pattern. It of velvet, with a lower brim, shaped something
is suitablt) fur a hoy five or six years old, like the" Jovita, " but with an upper plaited
rim surrounding the crown, which imparts
novelty and additional beauty to its ajipear-
ance. The trimmings are composed exclusively
of velvet, very gracefully arranged.
The liuss Hat. This is one of Genin's stylish
winter hats for a boy of ten or twelve years-

and requires three and a quarter yards of ma-

terial. It is made smooth crown and
of beaver, with a

" Oxford" Jacket. This is a very handsome brim of fur, and ornamented with a velvet
jacket for a young gentleman of from ten to band. The combination is novel and distimjue.
fifteen years old. It may be made in black,

BOOK-MARKER,
TO BE WORKED OS PERFORATED CARD.

invisible green, or claret-colored-cloth, with

black buttons. The vest should be white, with
small jet buttons, and only just visible. White
Oxford tie, embroidered in black.

The Gentian. This elegant hat, designed by
Mr. Geniu for stylish Misses of any age over

five, is as pretty as the northern flower from

wUich it takes its name. It is made entirely
82 godey's lady's book and magazine.

A NEW STYLE FOR COLLAR AND CUFFS.

Fig. 1.

Fig. 1
Fig. 4.

We give four engravings for the one subject. Fig. 3 is

tile baud of muslin with the slits for the plaits marked.
Fig. 4 shows how the plaits are formed and the ribbon run
through.
 WORK DEPAIITMENT. 83

THE ESMERALDA. 5M. ( Worked on the origi-

nal chain).
* 3 sc, 5 ch,
MADE OF BLACK ANP VE.TVE RIBBOXS, SCITADLE FOR A BKCXETTE.
mi.-is 3, * repeat to the eml,

which finisli with 3 sc.

6(A. Worked on this. *

1 sc, taking up tlie original
chain and working over the
centre of 3 sc 3 sc under ;

the chain of five, anotlur

with a picot, and 3 more
plain, making 7 altogether,
under the chain of five.*
Repeat to the end.
7</(. After this work on
the 4th row. * 5 sc, 9 ch,
miss 6 ;
* repeat to the end,
which finish with 5 sc.
Sth. *3 sc on centre 3 of 5
2ch, dc on 1st of 9 eh, 2ch,
miss 1, dc on next, 2 ch, miss
1, dc on next, 2ch, missl, dc

on next, 2 ch, miss 1, dc on

last, 2 ch, * repeat to the end.

9th. Sc on centre of 3 ; 3
ch, dc over dc, and over every
other dc, with 2 ch hetweeii,
3 ch after the last.
Wind some of the same
cotton round a card two
inches wide, and knot seven
strands in each of the four
centre holes of the shell.

CROSS STITCH KNITTING.

FOK A SOFA CUSBIOX.
Cast on 91 stitches.
1j!( roir.
Knit 1. liring the
wool forward, slip 1 the re-
verse way, pass the wool
back, repeat.
2d.
Seam 2, *, pass the
wool back, slip 1, bring the
wool forward, seam 1, repeat
from *.
Repeat these two rows al-
>.~y
irt? ternately knit 6 rows of
;

black, 2 of violet, 2 of maize

CROCHET FRINGE TRIMMING, FOR PIQUE filoselle doubled, 2 of violet, 2 of maize, 2 violet,
BASQUES. 6 of black, 2 of scarlet, 2 maize, 2 scarlet. 2 maize,
Materials. Crochet cocton, No. 10, with a saitahle 2 scarlet, 6 black, 2 green, 2 maize, 2 green, 2
hook. maize. 2 green, 6 black, 2 blue, 2 maize, 2 blue,
Each piece intended for the trimming must 2 maize, 2 blue. Repeat until the cushion is
he made separately therefore make a chain
; the size you wish it.

long enough for, say, one sleeve. 4 skeins of black double German wool, 2

2d TOW. Single crochet. 3</. Diamond open skeins each of !<carlet, violet, green, and bine,
hem. ith. Single crochet. and 10 skeins of maize filoselle, are required.
84 godey's lady's book and magazine.

NEEDLE-BOOK IN BEADS AND BERLIN WOOL.

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Small ornamental articles are generally ac- 7 rows. In the 8th row begin the narrowing,
ceptable to those ladies who feel an interest in which will be 8 times in the row work the Sth ;

contributing to the numerous sales of fancy row as follows work 39 stitches, take 2 to- :

work which are annually held for the purpose of gether, work 33, take 2 together, repeat this
augmenting the funds of the many benevolent twice. You will have 4 narrowings each side
charities of America. The little design given of the cloak. Work for the middle 29 stitchns,
among our illustrations forms a pretty and narrow have to keep these -9
1 ;
you will

useful article for this purpose. It is worked on
fine canvas with small beads the pattern is
in the two sorts of opaque and transparent, half
the leaf being in one sort, and the other half
in the other. The ground is in Berlin wool of
any bright color which may be
son, a rich blue, or
either ofthem a good effect. This part of the
work must he stretched over a cardboard cut
to the proper size, and lined with silk. The
stitches all the way up and narrow on each side
;
of them to go toward the fronts. Work 2 rows
plain, narrow, so the plain part between the
narrowing will be one stitch less. Narrow every
2d row all the way up, and at the same places.
preferred, crim- After you have done 52 rows there will be 22
a bright green, having rows of narrowing.
In the 53d row you must narrow on the Sth
stitch, and between, twice in the middle pait,
work narrow, work 7, narrow, work 9, nar-
9,

cashmere leaves are laid in the inside, and fast- row. This narrowing keep on the same as the
ened down with a ribbon the ends are brought ; 3 on each side, 5 times in every 2d row and 4
through to the back and tied in a bow. The times in every row. When yon begin the n.nr-
edges are finished with a row of beads, one be- rowing in the middle of the b.iok you will have
ing put on at every stitch with great regularity. to narrow 1 stitch on beginning and end of the
row. When you have 62 rows work the 63d
as follows : two stitches together, 4 stitches

plain, 2 together, 5 plain, narrow, 5 plain, nar-

PELERINE CLOAK.
row, 5 plain, narrow, 3 plain, narrow, 7 plain,
(See engraving, page 24.
narrow these 7 stitches are the inside of the
;

This cloak is worked in Afghan stitch, with row, the other side must be repeated.
needle No. 3. The upper part is of blue, and 64M row. Take the 3 first stitches together,
the points of chinchilla zephyr. 1 plain, 2 together, 4 plain, 2 together, 4 plain,
Set up for the centre 321 stitches, and work 2 together, 4 plain, 2 together, 2 plain, 2 to-
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 85

getlier, 7 plain; this is tlie middle; repeat for side by picking up the chain between the '."d
the other side. and laststitch do this every row np to 19
;

6^lh roir. 2 together, 13 plain, 2 tojpthpr, to stitches, then narrow on the same side 1 stitch
the middle plaiu, and repeat to the end of the every row down to 9 stitches, then begin the
row. widening again work in this way until you
;

66fA row. Leave S stitches of the last row .and
begin to work on the 9th, work plain, and leave
8 at the end of the row, the same as at the
beginning.
67M row. Leave 5 stitches of l.ast
work plain, leaving 5 stitches end of the
at the
row. This is the last row. Finish the neck
the same as yon would an Afghan stripe.
For the points of the clo.ak, take chinie
worsted, and use No. 3 needle, bnt work very
loosely. The points .are worked crosswise.
Set up 9 stitches the 1st row widen on the left
; front.
have 21 points. It will take 3 for the neck, 3
up the fronts for each side, and 12 for the rest
of the cloak. Sew the points all round, and
join the pointed side on with 1 stitch of black
row, and and one of white. On the corner the pointe.l
edge must be fulled in a little, so it will set
evenly. The little bars in the narrow part of
the points are made of 6 threads of worsted,
braided, or they can lie done in crochet, 1 stitch
of black .and one of white. There are two but-
tons and two buttonholes to fasten the cloak in

INSERTISO FOR A PILLOW-CASE.

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BRAIDING FOK A GUILD S FIQI^E DBESS.

VOL. LXVI.
86 GODET S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

DESIGN FOE AN INFANT'S BLANKET.

This very simple and pretty design i? suitable cords best with the material used. Chain-stitch
for au infant's blanket. It is made of white might be substituted for the braid, worked in
zephyr, with black velvet run throu^li the some very bright-colored purse silk. This may
chains, and lined with Marie Louise blue or be also done over the tissue-paper, which being
rose-colored cashmere or merino. so thin, easily tears away. Before fending the
slippers to be made up, we would advise our
readers to tack some paper over the net-iilewoik,
LADY'S BRAIDED SLIPPER. as it is so liable to soil under the shoemaker's
(Si'.e engraving, pagt 20.) hands.
Mnifiriali required for one pair of slippers are: A
quarter of a yard of bri^'ht blue cloth ; one piece of Alli-
ance silk braid, scarlet and gold.

This style of slipper is different from the EMBROIDERED POCKET FOR LADY'S
ordinary shape, as made with shaped sides,
it is
DRESS.
the toe and back being sloped down to a point.
(See engraving, page 28.)
These slippers are often made np with rather
high heels, which give to the foot a very d.iinty The present fashion of making the pocket
appearance, particularly when the heels are sufficiently ornamental to become a part of the

raadeinbriglit scarlet. Velvet or bronze leather trimming of a dress is both convenient and
might be selncted instead of cloth for the foun- pretty. Pockets are now worn embroidered on
dation, and a rich gold braid used instead of white muslin dresses as well as in silk and
the silk, or a plain colored braid might be run other materials. The one we are giving is ap-
on, edged with gold twist. The pattern should propriate for either white muslin or coloreil
be traced on tissue-paper and tacked on the silk embroidery in either case it is worked in
;

material to be braided. The braid should then satin-stitch. If on white muslin or pique. No.

be run over the paper, and when the work is 10 and No. 20 cotton must be used but if the ;

complete this may be torn away. Tlie slippers dress is of silk or other material, the embroid-
being very open, must be neatly finished inside ery should also be silk. Sometimes these
with a qnilted lining and quilted sock made of pockets are placed on the long wide bards of a
the same colored silk as the outside of the sash having the ends ornamented to correspond.
slipper, and should be bound round the edge A narrow lace beyond the escalloped edge is a
with a silk or velvet binding, whichever ac- great improvement.
 WORK DEPARTMENT. 87

monds, run in with a spot in the centre of each.

TOP OF TOILET PINCUSHION.
The flower or rosette at each end of the bar has
{See engraving^ pnge 23.)
its outline in chain stitch, liUed in with solid
Tnis littli? article fortbe toilet-lable is recom-
spots. No. 20 will be found the proper cottou
mended not only b_v its novelty of shape, but
We
for the embroidery of this pincushion.
f.ir its being so admirably well adapted to take
have only add that a quilling of ribbon is to
to
its place in the front of a looking-glass, when the bo carried round the edge of the lid, together
space is too limited to allow of one of the entire
with a little loop iu the centre by which to lift
circle. A small box of the form which will be
it up.
seen in our engraving cau be easily purchased,
having the cushion on the top of its lid, and
being covered and lined with either a pink
NAME FOK MARKING.
calico or a silk of the same or some other bright
tint. Iinmedi.ately below the rim of the opening
of this box of the same material as the
is a frill

covering, jnst the same depth as the box. The

lialf circular portion on the top is to be worked

on net. the flowers being all in satin-stitoh. The

twisted bar across the top is in sewn-over lines,
wijh solid spots worked in the nnder divisions,
and the upper part in a kind of herringbone-
stitch. The ribbon bows have a double line of
fine chain stitch at each edee, with a row of
dots between, and in the middle a row of dia-

BKAIDISO PALM FOR THE E.\D OF A SASH.

_~-N.
<D
o
.O'
'>

o
88 godey's lady's book and magazine-.

into delicious entrCes^ leave cooksand wives without

lUnipts, ^c. excuse for "banyan days" or hungry dinners. No one
can read the Lady's Book receipts without being struck
by the good sense which pervades them as a general
MODERN COOKERY AND HOUSEHOLD MANAGE- rule.

MENT. Cookery is not merely "the art of providing dainty

bits to fatten out the ribs," as the scornful old pioverb
The average of human felicity may not bemnch hitjlier
has it: it is the art of turning every morsel to the best
n-iw than has been; the wurld will mo.-.t likuly Ue-
it
use ; it is the exercise of skill, thought, ingenuity, to
berve its title of a "vale of tears" to the end uf time;
make every morsel of food yield the utmost nourishment
hat one oonsulatiou, and that by no means a small one,
and pleasure of which it is capable. To do this, or to
has become stronger and *<( more geoeral circulation ia
legislate for the doing uf does not depend on the
the present day there is the possibility of gettiai; good
amount of money spent ;
it,

the same qualities of character

dinners o/tener I Good dinners, exrellent dinners, super-
are demanded whether the housekeeping be on a large
excellent dianers, have been cooked and eateQ in all
or a small scale. A woman who is not essentially kind-
a^G6. " Lord Mayor's Feasts" have never failed. Christ-
hearted cannot be a comfortable housekeeper a woman ;

iDa:i time, Easter, and even Michaelmas, have secured

who has not judgment, firmness, forethought, aud
pood cheer for Christendom. Sunday dinners retain a
general good sense cannot manage her house piudently
cimfortable superiority over the rest of their brethren;
or Comfortably, no matter what amount of money she
but their very association with plenty of good things
may have at her command; a woman who has lot an.
suggests the "spare fast" ol intermediate seasons, when
eye for detecting and remedying disorderliness and
a household was kt-pt on salted meat for mouths, the
carelessness cannot keep her house fresh and pleasant,
frugal housewife being careful to use first the portions
no iiuitter how much mouey .--he may spend on luruiiuie
wliich were a "little touched," and going on with the
and upholsteiy. It is not money, but mauagemoiit, that
ri-iiiaiuder as it urgent need of being
stood in tlie mo'-t
is the great requisite in procuring comfort in household
cooked. Certainly all that has been much changed for
arrangements. Of course, nobody asks impossibilities ;
the better. Our Lady's Book receipts deal less with
none but the Jews ever yet succeeded in " makii'g-
grand dishes for hii,'h-company occasions, and more with
bricks without straw," and even they found it dilflcult,
the common dinners of every day. Domestic cookery-
and lamented wearily; but the woman with limited
books have of late boldly encountered the difficulty of
means may make her things as perfect after their kii.d
dealing with "that poor creature"
cold mutton. Set
as tlio woman with ample means, only slie will bo
dinner-parties are less thought of than the comfort of
obliged to put more of hei'self into the management
the family. The idea has been set forth and cherished
and that element of persimrdUy has a charm which no
that the husband and the children are entitled to as
appointments made through the best staff of servants
much consideration as occasional guests, and that the
can possess it is a luxury that mouey cannot buy, and
table ought to be set out as carefully and neatly every
generally hinders. The luxury of conipleteuehs mu.-it
day as on special occasions.There is a self-respect in
always depend on the individual care and skill of the
such a fact that goes deeper than the clean tablecloths
mistress. That a thing should be perfect after its kind
ar.d dinner-napkins. One of the latest attainments of
is all Bacon and venison lie at
that can be required.
civilization is comfort ; it is one of the last applications
opposite ends of the economical scale but if the womaa ;
men venturemake of their oney, just as, in religiim,
to
whose means allow her to procure bacon only is caielul
it lags a long way behind the canons
the practical part of
to have it so dressed and served that it is as good a.s
of orthodox metaphysics. Men wore fine clothes whilst
bacon ought to be, she has attained the only perfection
they walked on rushes, and the beautiful embroidery
required at her hands; and it is the higher qualities
aud picturesque costume of Vandyke's portraits were
brought to hear on a common action which give to the
worn previous to Cromwell's sanitary directiou that the
result a beauty and value not its own. We are all so
dirt should be shovelled from before the doors of houses
much creatures of imagination, that we think more of
everyday. People are beginning to m:ike themselves
the signified, than of the actual, fact. When a man sees
comfortable with snch things as they have. Frnm the
his table nicely set out,he believes in the goodness of
green-hafted scimitar-shaped knivps and two-pronged
his dinner in a way that would be impossible with the
forks which prevailed among decent people within the self-same dinner on a soiled tablecloth with a *ovenly
memory of man appointments of the present day
to the
arrangement.
there is a great step, and at no more cost. Silver forks
are still for those who can obtain them, and silver
ppoons continue to be the mystic symbol of good luck ;
MISCELLANEOUS COOKING.
but the substitutes for these precious articles improve A Round op Salted Beef. As this is too large for a
every day, and the convenience of the originals is af- moderate family, we shall write directions (br the dress-
forded to a wider circle. The one point insisted upon in ing half a round. Get the tongue side; skewer it up
all works on household management is not a love of tight and round, and tie a fillet of broad tape round it,
show or extravagant exponditure, but the necessity of to keep the skewers in their places. Put it into plenty
having everything that depends on personal thought or of cold water, and carefully catch the scum as sr.on as it
care done as well as possible. The electro-plate or the rises let it boil till all the scum is removed, and then
;

nickel silver, or even the commOuest species of Britannia
metal, is to be kept clean and bright, aud put neatly
on the table; the table linen ha,< no need to be fine,
but freshness is indispensable. The dinner maybe of
put the boiler on one side of the fire, to keep siinmerivg
slowly till it is done.
Half a round of fifteen pounds will take about three
hours if it weighs more, give it more time. Wlien you
;

scraps, bnt those scraps must be made savory; and take it up, if any ptray scum, etc., sticks to it that has

C'vra.uly the receipts and directions for turning stale escaped the vigilance of your skimmer, wash it off with
c^UsCa into delicate puddinefs, morbels of cold, diy meat a pasie-brush. Garnish the dishesi with cairuis aud
 RECEIPTS. 89

turnips. Seed np carroti*, turuips, aad paranipa, or nuies to settle, and then pour through a sieve into a
it

greeas, ou M>parale dii>hes.

etc., clean biisin or fttoue pan, aud it and a
will do a second
N. B. Tbe outiiidc 8lice% vkich aregenerftUy too mach third time as well an it did the first only the fat yoa
;

fnlted aod too much boiled, will make a very good have fried fish in must not bo used for any other purpose.
n-licth u potted beef. Potatoes Roasted c.vpKR Meat. Half boil largo pota-
Veal. Veal requires particular care to roast It a nice toes, drain the water frum them, and put thoiu into an
browo. Let tbe fire be tbe same as for beef; a soand, earthen dish or small tin piiu, under meat that is roast-
large fire for a large joint, and a bri^ker fur a smaller ; lug, and baste tbem with some of the dripping. When
put ii at some ditttauco froiu the fire to Hoak thoroughlj, thoy are browned on one side, turn them and brown the
and tht'D drti\T it near to fiotxb it brown. other send them up ronnd the meat, or in a
; small dish.
When first laid down it is to be basted baste it again ;
Vegetable Socp Put a cabbage, turnips, and carrots,
occasiunally. When the Vfal \a on the disli, pour over cut up, a bii of celery or a little sugar, into two quarts
It half a pint of m^'lted butter you have a little brown
; if
of water ; boil one hour; add three onions, sliced, some
gtavy by you, add that With those joints
to the butter.
oatmeal or rice boiled, or crusts of bread, pepper, and
which are not stufied, seed np forcemeat in balls or salt give it a boil up for a quarter of au hour.
;

rolled into sansages a-* garnish to the dish, or fried pork

eausa^res greens are aUo always expected with veal.
Cabbage Jei.lt. A tasty little dish, and by some
;
persons esteemed more wholesome than cabbage simply
Veal Swbktbread. Trim a fine sweetbread (it canuot boiled. Boil cabbage in the usual way, and squeeze in
bo too fre^b) parboil it for five minutes, and throw it
Then chop small add a
;
a colander till perfectly dry. ;

i .to a basin of cold water. Kuast it phiin, or beat up little and salt. Press the whole very
butter, pepper,
the yolk of au ^gg, and prepare !ome fine bread-crumbs,
closely into an earthenware mould, aud bake one hour,
When is cold, dry it thoroughly in a
the sweetbread
either in a side oven or in front of the fire wheu done, ;

cloth run a lark-spit or a pkcwer through it, aud tie it

;
turn it out.
OQ the ordinary spit ei:g it with a pat^te-brusfa, powder it
;

well with bread-crumbs, aud roa^^t it. For eauce, fried

To Hash a Calf's Head. Clean the head thoroughly,
and boil ic for a quarter of au hour. When cold, cut the
bread-crumbs round it, and melted butter, with a little
meat into thin, broad slires, and put them into a pan
mushroom catsup and lemou-juice, or serve them on
with two quarts of gravy and, after stewing three- ;
buttered toast, garnished with egg sauce or with gravy.
quarters of an hour, add ono anchovy, a little mace and
A Leg op Pobk pounds will require about
of eight
Cayenne, one spoonful of lemon pickle, and two of wal-
three hours. Score tbe (-kiu across in narrow stripes
nut catsup, some sweet herbs, lemon-peel, and a glass
(some score it in diamonds) about a quarter of an inch
of sherry. Mix a quarter of a pound of fresh bn tier with
apart, stuff the knnckle with sage and onion, miticed
flour, which add five minutes before the meat is suffi-
fine, and a little gi~at>-d bread, seasoucd with pepper,
ciently cooked. Take the brains and put them into hot
F-alt, and the yelk of au egg. Do not put it too near the
water, skin them, aud pound them well. Add to them
firs.
two eggs, oue spoonful of Mower, a little gmied lemon-
A Chine of Pork. ^ parted down the back bone so peel, aud finely chopped parsley, thyme, and sage; mix
as to have but oue side, a good fire will roast it in two well together with pepper aud salt. Form this mixture
h>>nrs ; if not parted, three hours. Chines are generally intusmall cuke^ boil some lard, and fry (heni in it until
;

fialted aud boiled. they are a light brown color, then lay tbem on a sieve
Goose. When a goose is well picked, singed, aud to drain. Take the hash out of the pan, and lay it
cleaned, make the stuffing with about t\^ ounces of neatly on a hot dish, strain the gravy over it, and lay
onion and half as much green sage, chop them very fine, upon it a few mushrooms, forcemeat balls, the yelks of
adding four ounces 1.. about a large broakfast-cupful four hard-boiled eggs, and the brain-cakes. Garnish
of stale bread-crumbs, a bit of butter about as big as a with slices of lemon aud pickles.
walnut, and a very little pepper and salt (to this some Scalloped Otstebs Wash out of the liquor two
cooks add half the liver, parboiling it first), th* yolk of quarts of oysters, pound very fine eight soft crackers, or
au egg or two, and incorporatiug tbe whole well toge- grate a stale loaf of bread ; butter a deep dish, sprinkle
ther, stuff the guose; do not quite fill it, but leave a little in a layer of crumbs, then a layer of oysters, a little
room for the stuffing to swell
on the spit ; spit it, tie it mace, pepper, and bits of butter another layer of crumbs, ;

at both ends, to prevent it swinging round, and to keep another of oysters, then seasoning as before, aud so on
the stuffing from coming out. Fr.>m an hour and a half until the dish
is filled cover the dish over with bread-
;

to an hour and three-quarters will rojist a fine fuU-growu crumbs, seasoning as before; turn over it a cup of the
goose. Send up gravy and apple sauce with it. oyster liquor. Set it into the oven for thirty or forty

To Claript DRiFpi.xtis. Put your dripping into a minutes to brown.

olean saucepan over a stove or slow fiie ; when it is just
going to boil, skim it well, let it aud then let it
boil, CAKES, PCDDIXGS, ETC.
stand till it is a little cooled ; then pour it through a In maki ng cakes it is indispensably necessary that all
tieve into a pan. the ingredients should be heated before they are mixed ;
O"**. Well-cleansed drippings and the fat <^kiminings for this purpose everything should be piepared an
when fresh and sweet, will bu-vte every-
of the broth-pot, hour before tbe time it is wanted, and placed near the
thing as well as butter, except game and poultry, and fire or upon a stove the flour thoroughly dried and
phouM supply tbe place of butter for common fries, etc., warmed the currants, sugar, caraway seeds, and any-
;

f'T which thoy are eqnal to lard, especially if you re- thing else required heated in the same way butter and ;

p*at the clarifying twice over. eggs should be beaten in basins fitt-'d into kettles or
N. B. If you keep it in a cool place, yon may pre<ierTe pans of warm water, which will give them the requisite
it a fortnight in summer, and longer in winter. When degree of temfierature. Without these precautious caked
y^^u have done frying, let the dripping' stand a few mi- will be heavy, aud the beet materials, with Che greatest
8*
90 godey's lady's book and magazine.

pa as, will fail to produce the desired results. The fol- Bath Bcns. Take pound of flour, the rinds of three
a
lowing directions should also be strictly attended to: lemons, grated pound of butter melted in a
fine, half a
Currants should be very nicely washed, dried in a cloth, cup of cream, a teaspoonful of yeast, and three eggs.
and then set bffore tlie fiie. Before they are used a duht Mix; add half a pouud of finely-powdered white sugar ;

of dry dour should be thrown amoufi tbem, and a shake mix well, let it stand to rise, and it will make thirty-
given to them, which causes the cakes to be ligliter. nine-buns.
EL,'gs should be very long beaten, whites and yelks apart,
An Okaxge Pdddino. Make a light paste, and roll it
and always strained. Sugar should be pounded in a out to the extent you require Take your oumges, it.
mortar or rubbed to a powder on a clean board, and sifted slice them with the rinds on, removing carefully the
through a very fine hair or lawn sieve. Lemon-peel pips or seetls from the pulp. Place a layer of fruit,
should be pared veiy thin, and with a little sugar, well-sugared, within one side of the paste and turn it
beaten in a marble mo. tar to a paste, aud then mixed with over the and repeat the same course until the
fruit,
a little wine or cream, so as to divide easily among the whole of the slices are disposed of. Fold the paste up at
other ingredients. The pans should be of earthenware ; each eud, so as to secure the syrup. Boil it in a pud-
nor should eggs, or butter and sugarbe beaten in tins, as ding cloth. It constitutes, in some families, a nursery
the coldness of the metal will prevent them from becom- luxury.
iug light. Use no flour but the best superfine, for if the
flour be of inferior quality, the cakes will be heavy, ill-
Apple Crkam. Peel and core five large apple.'^, boil in
a little water enough to press through a sieve
till soft ;
colored, and unfit to eat; but if a little potato flour
sweeten, and beat with them the beaten whites of three
be added. It will improve their lightness. Cakes are
eggs, serve it with cream poured arouud it.
frequently rendered hard, heavy, and uneatable by
misplaced economy in eggs and butter, or for want of a
Eve's Pcdping.
Grate three-fourths of a pound of
stale bread, aud mix it with thiee-fourths of a pound of
due seasoning in spices and sugar. After all the articles
fine suet, the same quantity of chopped apples and dried
are put into the pan they should be thoroughly and
currants, five eggs, aud the rind of a lemon put it into
long beaten, as the lightness of the cake depends much ;

a mould, aud boil it three hours serve it with sweet ;

OQ their being well incorporated. Unless you are pro-
sauce.
vided with proper utensils as well as materials the dif-

ficulty of making cakes will be so great as in most Crasbebrt Roll Stew a quart of cranberries ia

instances to be a failure. Accuracy in piopoitioning the just water euough to keep them from burning make it

I
;

ingredients is also indispensable, and therefore scales, very sweet, strain it through a colander, aud set it

weights, and measures, down to the smallest quautity, away to cool ; wheu quite cold, make a paste a, for apple

are of the utmost importance. When yeast is used, a pudding; spread the cranberries about an inch thick ;

cako should stand for some time to rise before it is put roll it up in a floured cloth, and tie it close at the ends ;

into the oven. All stiff cakes should be beaten with boil it two hours, and serve it with sweet sauce. Stewed

the hand ; but pound aud similar cakes should be beaten apples, or any other kind of fruit, may be made iu the
V ith a whisk or spoon. same way.
RorK Cakes. Take a pound of flour, rub into it half An Exckllent PrDDiNo. Talft one pint and a half of
a pound of batter, aud half a pound of sugar mix with ;
milk, two eggs, and a small tahlespoonful of flour mix ;

it a quarter of a pound of lemon-peel aud the yelks of the flour with cold milk to the consistence of thick
six eggs. Roll into balls, and bake on tins. cream ; milk and pour, boiling hot,
boil the rest of the
upon the add a salt-spoonful
the time
Arrowroot Biscuits. Put together three-quarters of
flour, stirring all ;

of salt, sugar to your taste, and, when conl, two eggs

a pound of sugar, and the same weight of butter until
well beaten have ready a buttered dish, pour the whole
they rise; beat three eggs well and mix with it, then ;

into it, grate lemou-peel or nutmeg over it, and bake

stir intwo cups of sifted arrowroot, aud two of flour ;

thirty-five or forty minutes it should be out of the oven

;
roll them thin, cat them with a biscuit-cutter; place
fifteen minutes before serving. It is delicious to eat cold
them in buttered tins, and bake in a slow oven.
with jam, tart, or fruit pie.

Lemon PrnoiNG. Take four ounce.s of butter, melt and
pour it on four ounces of powdered loaf-sugar add the ;
Apple Jam. Three pounds of large apples to be put
into ajar tn stand all night in the oven with half a pint
juice of a large lemon, with the rind grated, and the
of water, the cores having first been taken out. The
yelks of six eggs. Line the dish with paste, bake it half
next day, add the juice of one lemon, and one pound of
an hour.
lump sugar; boil altogether from two to three hours.

Apple Ssow-Balls. Take half a dozen fresh apples,

c\jtthem into quarters aud carefully remove the cores A Swiss CrsTARD. Take one quart of new milk in- ;

from them then put them together, having introduced troduce one half of the measure into a clean saucepan,
;

into the cavity caused by the removal of the cores, two
cloves and a thin slice of lemon-rind into each apple.
}l;ive at hand half a dozen damp cloths, upon each dis-
pute of a liberal layer of clean, picked rice
;
with the vind of a lemon shred very fine, aud let the
latter simmer over a gentle fire. Have at hand three
tablespoonfuls of ground rice, damp it with cold spring
place each water in a deep dish, and mix with it the milk which
was left unused, adding loaf-sugar to your taste. When

apple in an upright position in the middle of the grain,

the milk in the saucepan simmers, let the cold mixture
aud draw the slde^ of the cloths containing the rice over
be gradually added to it, carefully stirring it round till
the same, tying them at the top only suflleiently tight to
it becomes thick and assumes the usual consistency of a
admit of its swelling whilst under the operation of boil-
custard made with eggs. Grate cinnamon aud nutmeg
ing three-quarters of an hour will suffice. "When re-

lea-ed from the cloths they will lesemble snow-balls.

over it, aud eat it cold.
Open, add sugar, butter, and nutmeg to the fruit, and Cheesecakes. Two ounces of sweet almonds, a little
eerve them up to table. The above will be found very better than an ounce of bitter do., the whites of two
wholesome and satisfactory food for children. eggs, a qua'-ter of a pound of lamp-sugar pounded very
 RECEIPTS. 91

floe. Pouod op the almuodd (after blanching them); two drachms. Mix a tea^poonful to a pint and a half
mix Id the white-^ of the ej^^s witb the suKar, aud bake of cold water.
QuUt a light biuwQ iu patty pans lined with a pn^te. TcRKHV Carpet, to Clkan. Bi^at it well with a stick
manner until nil the dust in removed, then
in the u^^:l

MISCELLA>'EOUS. take out the stains, if any, with lemon or sorrel-juice.

When thorouL'hly dry, rub it all over with the crumb
To Pkesbrth Iross prom RrsT Molt fresh mnlton of a hot wbeateu loaf, and if the weather is very fine,
Boet. smear over the Irou with it while hot, then dust it let it haug out in the open air for a ni^'ht or two. Th.s
well with ani^laked lime, powdered and tied up in mas- treatment will revive the colors, and make the carpet
llii. When not uned. wrap the irons in baize, and keep appear equal to new.
them in a dry place. Vae do oil for them at any time,
Kxtinction op Firks. The safety of the inhabitants
except salad oil.
being ascertaiued, the first object at a fire should be the
To TAKE RrsT on
of Strei,. Rnb well with sweet exclusion of all fresh and the conflnomeut of all burnt
oil. and let the cil remain upon them for forty-eight
air ifuffoctttt the fiames remember that burnt air is as
honra. Then rnb with leather spriokted Willi tm^ilaked
great, if not a greater enemy to combustion than even
lime, finely powdered, until all the rnst disappears.
water the one, till again mixed with oxygen, cau never
;

Ta Clea.v Black Grates, Hkakths, Side?, etc. BoiL support flame the other, especially if poured on heated
;

a quarter of a pound of the best black lead in a pint of
weak vinegar and water, adding a teaspoonful of brown
sugar and a bit of soap about the size of a walnut. When
that is melted, first bruish off all the dust and suot, and
then with a painter's brnsb wet the grate, etc. As soon
as ;t begins to dry rub to Itrightness with astifllsh bru^h,
metal, is converted into its elemeuts, the oue hydrogen,
in itself most inflammable, the other oxygen, the food of
fire. For both purposes, of excluding the one air aud
confining the other, all openings should be kept as care-
fully closed as possible. Au attempt should always be
made to stop up the cbimney-pots wet rags, blankets, ;

sach as shoes are polished with. or an old carpet, will servo this purpose, and thereby
To Makf BLACKisa One pound of Ivory black, two confine a considerable quantity of burnt air.
onnces of vitriol, one pound of treacle, two tablespoon- Vitriol AccrpENts are not uncommon in kitchens, as
fuls of sweet oil, two quarts of vinegar or stale ale. when oil of vitriol (improperly used for cleaning copper
Have mug, put the ivory-black and oil
re.idy a large vessels) is let fall upon the bauds, etc. In this case, :f
into and mix them well together. Pour the vinegar
it, a little soda or pota>h be dissolved in water, or some
and oil into a pan, and after making them hot, udd them fresh s.>ap-boilerK' lees, and instantly applied, no injury
gently by degrees to the ivory black until you bavo whatever will occur to the poison or clothes.
mixed all well together. Let it stand till cold, aud then An easy method of removing wine stains from table-
add the vitriol. Bottle it for use. It will keep for cloths is to hold the stained part in milk while it is boil-
years, and can bo highly recommended when used for
ing on the fire. The stains will soon disappear.
giving boots and shoes a lustrous jet appearance.

Tooth Powder. We know of no better than finely
Cores. The common employing inferior
practice of
powdered charcoal; it cleans the niouib mechanically
corks for the purpose of st->ppiug the mouths of bottles
and chemically. But as alone it is dusty, aud not easily
is often productive of considerable loss, from the air
mixed with water, it may for tin*; purpose be mixed
b.^ing only p;irtially excluded, and the contents so fferiog
with an equal weight of prepared chalk, and, if requisite,
lu coa-equence. We once saw a large "bin" of valuable
scented with a drop or two of oil of cloves.
wine become, in less than a year, little better than sour
To Destroy Axts. Ants that frequent houses or gar-
Cape, from the parsimony of its owner on this point, and
dens may
be destroyed by taking Hour of brimstone
we have frequently baU to regret the loss of valuable
half a pound, and putash four ounces; set them in au
c'.iemical preparations, fiom a similar cause. The best
iron or earthen pan over the fire till dissolved aud
cTks are those called "velvet corks," aud of these the
united ; afterwards beat them to a powder and infuse a
finest qualities are imported from France.
little of this powder in water; and wherever you sprin-
F'lR CnAPPED Hands. Two onnces of white wax, two kle it the ants will die or fly the place.
ounces of hog's lard rendered, half an ounce of sperma-
f"ti. one ounce of oil of sweet almonds. Simmer all
Portable Lemonade. Take of tartaric acid, half an
ounce; loaf sugar, three ounces; essence of lemon, half
these ingredients together for a few minutes, then strain
a drachm. Powder the tartaric acid and the sugar very
the liquid through muslin, and put it into pots. To be
fine in a marble or Wedgwood mortar; mix tUcm to-
rubbed well over the baDds whOD going to bed, and
gether, and pour the essence of lemon upon them, by
sleep with gloves on.
a few drops at a time, stirring the mixture after each
Red Isk.Take of the raspinesof Brazil wood one- addition, till the whole is added then mix them thor- ;

quarter of a pound, and infuse thera two or three days into twelve equal parts, wrap-
oughly, and divide it
lu vinegar, which should be colorless. Boil the infusion ping each up separately in a piece of white paper.
one hour over a gentle fire, and afterwards filter it while When wanted for use, it is only necessary to dissolve
hot through paper laid in an earthenware colander.
it in a tumbler of cold water, aud fine lemonade will be
Put it again over the fire, and dissolve in it, first, half obtained, containing the flavor of the juice and peel of
an ounce of gum Arabic, and afterwards of alum and the lemon, and ready sweetened.
while sugar, each half an ounce.
Cheese Sxaps. Take a new loaf, hot from the oven,
Blub I.vk. Chinese blue, threo onnces; oxalic acid
pull it in halves, dig nut pieces about the size of a wal-
/pure), tliree-qnartcrs of an ounce; gum Arabic, pow-
nut with a fork, put them on a dish, and set in a quick
dered, one ounce; distilled water, six pints. Mix.
oveo to brown lightly. Stale bread can be used, but
Black Ixk. Sulphate of iron, calcined, six ounces; does not auhwer so well. This fornw a pretty supper
powdered nutgalls, two ounces; powdered gum Arabic, dish, and can be eaten with wine.
 Ht0xg' Sjabh*
A NEW TEAR AND NEW HOPES. A NEW YEAR'S GIFT. SEE PLATE.
The Preseat is only known to us by the Past. We "What though my heart be crowded close with objects
dear nor few,
must look the Old Year in the face as he is dying be-
Creep in, my little smiling babe there 's still a niche;

fore we can comprehend the great task imposed ou the for you."
New Year in the burden he has to take up.
Ah, yes ; there is always room in the loving heart of
Turn to the Frontispiece, where, in an allegorical
womankind for the new baby ! It is this instinct of the
illustration, you will read these lessons.
sex which these three dear little girls are obeying, as
At the top of the picture the palms of pence are rocking TO.ch lets fall her choice holiday presents to gaze with
the Infant Year; there, too, is the emblem of promise, yearning tenderness on the sweetest gift of the New
nursed by winged hopes and pious wishes. Year, their own baby brother. "Isn't he a darling?"
On the right side is the decrepit Old Year, as a man they all exclaim.
on crutches, turning to gaze on his infant successor. Ah ! When our first raotherwent out, weeping sorrowfully,
the old year departs burdened with the sorrows of mil- from her Paradise Garden, she carried in her heart, like
and
lions, scoffed at by a thankless world. But let ua a holy gift of perpetual youth and hope to humanity,
remember that his path was beset with difficulties. the blessed promise that her "seed" should restore the

The New Year! Is there not a glorious opportunity

before the New Year? "What
Look on the left side of the picture see the little group ;
of happy helpers, symbolizing the hopes and prayers
of those who love peace; see them carrying away the
weapons of warfare and en.signs of military strife, so
that the influences of love and good-will may have room
to work and glance at the bottom of the plate there
; ;
are the emblems of happy meetings, of concord, pros-
perity, and joy.
lost glories of Eden. But Eve did not find her first-born
what she anticipated. Why was this cross of her hopes?
will he do with it?"
Blight it not have been caused by her over indulgence of
Cain's appetites and passions? Her unwise tenderne&s
tliu.s fostered his egotism and selfishness, till, when his
bi-other Abel came and claimed a share in the mother's
love, the jealousy and hatred of the elder born was
aroused, and never afterwards slumbered.
Here is a subject demanding the inquiry of the edu-
cator. We do not recollect that any writer has analyzed
tlie effect which might be wrought on the sensitive na-

But the centre Portrait is the magnet that will draw ture of a young child, two or three years of age, who
all trueAmerican hearts to feel that Union must be peace. has been the worshipped of the nursery, when a new
Who can look on that august face, where passion is baby comes to displace the first idol. It is a terrible trial
subjected to duty, and every line aud expression show to an affectionate and indulged little child.
the patriot who loved his whole country, and not feel Every young mother should watch carefully when her
that first-horn is put away from her immediate teudence by
**
Peace greatness best becomes. the pre.sence of a new claimant on her affections; she
must see that the elder one is not made to feel forsaken,
Heaven grant onr New Year's dream may soon be
as the thoughtless words of servants, or visitors, even,
realized Then how dearly we shall enjoy the blessings
!

would imply. She should never permit expressions*of

of peace, with its bright anticipations, its
mental improvement, and its wide range
interest that finds its best pleasures in the general hap-
piness of society
Dr. Franklin's old motto "Take care of the minntea,
and the hours will take care of themselves" may he
applied to a wider range of tliought. Let every citizen
take care of his or her own conscience, character, soul
keep these pure, right, and just, and iPhe Commonwealth
will take care of itself.
. Wealways approach our readers on these anniversa-
ries with feelings akin to warm personal friendship and
confidence. So many years have been given, or at least
leisure for
preference for the baby to be made in the hearing of the
of benevolent
other, and all the changes which must be felt by the
first autocrat of the nursery should be made up to him
by new enjoyments and resources for self-amusement.
More than this, great pains must be taken to cultivate
the tender feelings of love and care for his little brother
or sister.
Very much of the real happiness of children depends
on giving them something to do for themselves or for
each other in promoting the means of amusement and
happiness. Encourage them to do this, and praise and
caress them when they show a spirit of generosity and
self-sacrifice towards each other. It is an unspeakable

a large part of our time and thoughts, to the questions blessing to a family if the mother has rightly traiued her
What good can we do, what advantages offer to onr sub- fivst-born; the child, son or daughter, is the index of
scribers? that the idea of contributing to their happi- the mother's character in the household, and also of her
ness has become a necessary part, as it were, of our life. capacity to mould the minds of her children. The ex-
We trust this feeling is reciprocated. We believe our ample of this elder one, if right, leads all the others
readers will welcome this first number of our new volume rightly, almost without the need of authority from the
with kindly desires for the happiness of the Editors, and parents.
accept with pleasure our sincere greetings and good Look at the trio of sisters in the plate, aq fbpy bend
wishes for the New Year, 1S63. over their little baby brother ! Will they not bo almoat
92
 EDITORS TABLE.
like gaardtaa aogcls to hts opeoiog liTe? teodiDg his
Ktcps, wutchiu^' )iU wishes, ktH'piog him rrom Iiarm, and
hflpiiig bim, so far ait they cau, tu becumo vhat thvy
will surely believe he may be if he tries oaeuf the bt'dt
aud uubiest mea ia the laud.
HOUSEHOLD WORK.
"WomeD show thoir parts
When thoy do make their ordered households know
them. Knuwles.
Those who read onr Table for December (we hope all
our frieadii have that number) will recollect the ** Letter
from a Lady of PeuusylvaoitL," conceruiu^r the chaoi^es
which, coming over our country, must affect the cuadi-
tiou and character of AmeriCHu women.
We DOW give the thoughts and suggetntionsof anoth(*r
dear friend, whose excellent ideas on " boubebold work"
will, we hope, make a deep impression on the hearts
and minds of oar readers.
LETTEE FROM A LADT OF SEW EyOLA.VD.
Mt Dbar Mas. Hai.e: The Lady's Book, which has
alw:iys been foremost in every irood word and work
relating to women, seems to me a proper channel throusrh
which toexprei^s some of the ^etuiweuts, the exhoita-
lions, tho hopes, and the fears called out by tliiti unhappy
war. so far as women alone aie coiiccruod.
The go.id which has be^-n elicited out tf evil, certainly
amou^ New Ea^'Iand women (with whom mostly I have
b-on ctinver.sant) is one of those mysterious Providences
wbirh make us feel that we know nothing about the
manai^ement of the world or of human beings. When I
li:ive seen young creatures whose fingers have been too
diiiuty all their lives long to do a useful thing; who
n >t only did not know how t-i do a useful thing, but
r-'slly piqued themselves on this deliirhlful ignomnce
;
when 1 see such girls, heartily entering into the making
of C'larse shirts and drawers, and knitting coarse yarn
for stockinirs when I see them do this, not ouce. but all
:
the spare hours, formerly given to idleness or to delicate
f;'.nry-work when I see these girls. whose only delight
; l.'ss cook who left you tliat morning without waruii.g,
set-med to be a ball or a concert, to dress ami be admired,
patiently and industriously working away, week after
week, at common clothes and [he makint* of comfortable
garments for the sick and woanded when I hear the ; cla-^s of efilcient and active young women in domestic
ttlk of these girls, deeply iutere.sied in something apart
fr )m themselves, above themselves, relating to some-
thing altogether aside and above the petty interests of
d;uly life, and involving the highest contemplations of
th'i human mind; when I look at thi.s and at these, I
feel thai there is good in all evil, atid that the regenera-
ti'-nof so many young hearts almost pays the price of
bl tod and suffering.
Thi< war is to make widows and orphans, sisters with
no brothers to care for them, mothers with no sons to
uphold their age and comfort their inSrmity. The
whole faceof society will be changed. How, then, shall
women prepare for such a change, for such a new order
of things? From being cherished they must uphold
t'lomselves; the wind that formerly must not blow
rudely on their tender checks, will strike blastingly.
with the terapestnons force of poverty and desertion.
Whatever the political result may be of this war, the
fi'cial and domestic results are inevitable. It is of no
use to thrust them aside; better look them squarely in
the face.
It seems to me there will gradually and imperceptibly
open a way for tbe-^e mothers, daughters, and sisters to
maintain themselves, merely from the circumstance of
tlieir SOX being in excess of the other, for a lung future.
Many of the oecopations which have heretofore been
monopolized by men, but which are suited much better
to the strength and ability of women, will be open
to
women. Work of all sotts will be neces-ary and f*'/A7i-
i-ni'ihU. If it is fashionable now to strew the drawing-
r-.nTns with blue shirts and btown stocking yarn if the
; acknowledi.'ed that it conld not be helped that it could
belle comes to receive her morning calls with her kuit-
ti ig in her hand, much more will it be fashionable
continne to labor when that labor shall be sanctified
to
with deeper than patriotic motives, with higher and
closer impulses than a country's love.
It is well for our yonnir girls to look forward
to this
stiue of things. Xot despondenMv, not fearfully, but
h 'pe^nlly, fparlessly.cheer'nlly. Bettera thousand time^
itiut yoQ " wear out" in the quick attrition
of active exer-
93
tion than to " rust out'' in tfie inane idleness of a useless
existetico If to be a cherished and petted wile be de-
nied yuu, you can still be a helpful sifter, a lUv^'tid
daughter, or a cheerful, patient, and soothing companiou
to a wounded ur helplijss husband.
We
know for even in the middle of the blind rash
there was viitne enough in the country to say acid feel
it
we know that we have drifted, as a ieople. far out
of sight of the priuciple.s of our fathers, on which the
Country was settled aud this republic fouuded. We
have been warned, over and over, that we were going
down to ruin, ihiongh the corruptions of prosperity, as
fast as we could possibly go. We
beard the voice of
prophecy and of deumiciation the "Wo
upon this
;
gofxtly Innd " We
heard, but we folded our hands, and
.'
said " Apres nous le deluge." But the deluge /itwcome
:
upon us, the guilty ones, and not on our innoce t
children for them opens a brighter path through suf-
:
fei iug. No more luxury or pampering, uo more lazineja
and dissatisf^iction but, iustead, cheerful labor, forti-
;
tude, aud Christian dignity. For one, I rejoice in the
prospect of new virtue in the body politic, beginning, aa
ituiustand ought, with women. If they must give up,
during their whole lives, the pleasiug ta^k of d- Coratiug
their persons, and even in some measure of adorning
their minds, still they will have gained immeasurably
in mental (jlevation, and iheir whole plane of actioa
and thont:ht be far higher.
There is a large class of single women who will be
thrown out of employment by ibis war. There will be
more teachers lhii schools; more instructors of music
than pupils or pianos; more ready to give diawiug
lessohs than children to avail themselves of such bles-
sings. This stale of things will necessitate a broader
ami different field of action lor thes-- woinea.
In the increased and fartitious tefinement of roaoners
and employment in the country, all the pleasantest prt
of domestic life has long been sacrificed, and an imitation
of European style substituted. In the sparse condition
of our native population, it has been necessary to employ
emigrant labor for all domestic purposes. This has
had a bad eff'-ct on both employer and employed. I
could dwell on this at great length, and yet it cannot be
necesstiry You hear constantly pathetic lamentations
over the " old uuises," the "old help" {when servants
were not) that were so faithful, so friendly, so to be re-
lied on at all times; and mournful chats over the faith-
or th unsrateful waitress, who " won't stay nnder two
dollars and a half."
There will be a better opening for labor for the large
service. Hitherto, they have declined to enter into
competition with emigrants, and have chosen ^partly
with a laudable, and partly with a foolish pride rather
to Confine themselves to needle work and teaching, than
to enter the lists of active household labor with for-
eigners.
Everybody who is at all conversant with the real
stale of the ronnfrj/ fl mean as distinct fiom the city)
knows that there is always a glad opening and liberal
remuneration fordomestic service For Americans, much
more. There is friendly interest and attachment. I
should be very glad, for one. to see the days of almost
fendal di>*tinction. which have obtained du-ing the last
among u>, abulished; and the old times
thirty years
returned where to aid and serve in the family, was
associated with no dec:ra|ation, but, on the contrary,
with pleasure on both sides
Tlieu Ihere will not be so mnch starving in city attics,
because women prefer to make shirts for fourpenceapiece
to washing dishes and cookiug dinners for two dollars a
week. They will feel a proper self-respect and self-
appreciation which will not be lowered by sweepit g the
house, or speakin? properly to their employers. A new
state of feeling and interest will spring up amouir all.
We shall all be grateful for aid, an<l glad in our turn to
aid others. Heretofore we have been hard. There has
been no possible room for kindly feeling or interest
beyond the day, for domestic service, which was liable
to cease at any hour, when increa-^ed wages called, and
where interest was the sole propelling motive. We
;
not be expected that it should be otherwise. Still,
;
we mourned over the good old days when everything
was so different !
apprehend that
I in the immediate future of oar coun-
try, ihere will be a closer inweaving of all classes,
through the intense and common interest in the general
good There will be m'sre upholding and assisiinir of
those who need it A development o*" charaetrr fr-ni
within is better than any amount of eucouragemeut
94 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND JfAGAZINE.

from without and p<*rsons who cannot be or would not

: the advantage of better literature, and also as preventin/
ho hy public iiid are inexpressibly con-^oled
b'?Mefireii
useless expense. This year new books of all descrip'
and lortified Itv pnvalo hyiiipathy and eucoinageuient.
They befriu to feel themselves strontr and able tn cope tions are few, compared with our "halcyon days o'
with n;iy, more, to feel that labor
life; dignity is itself a peace." Still, there must be gifts fbr Christmas and
and u blessing; and that to adapt themselves to the New Year, and those who wish to find a worthy literary
kind of labor most healthfnl for them, is the truest dig-
nity us weLl as common sense. Souvenir for a Christiuu lady (old or young), which
shall have an impressive interest for the pre><t.nt and be
a rich addition to the family library, lot them select
MEMORIAL
the five volumes of Dr. Cummings' works, lately repub-
To the Honorable SertaU and House of Representatives lished in New York.*
in Omgresa fi.stif:tnbli:d: THE GREAT TRIBULATION: or. Things C-oming on
Whereas, there are now more than tico millions of
the Earth. 2 Vols.
rliildren in our country destitute of the opportunity of
THE GREAT PREPARATION: or, Redemption Draw-
education, demandinif si:rft/ thoiLsnnd tencJiers to supply
eth Mgh. In 2 Vols.
them at the same ratio as is common in ourbest educated
TEACH US TO PRAY. 1 Vol.
Evictions, your memorialists beg to call your attention to
These books are wonderful prodnctions, and breathe
these considerations:
the true spirit of Faith, Hope, and Charity. The style
1. That whi'e the Great West, California, and the wide
is perfect of its kind, clear, cogent, impressive, and yet
<^ean, invite youns: men to wealth and adventuie, and
simple and tenderly caieful of offences. The subjects
while the labors of the school-room offer so little recom-
discussed are the highest, noblest, and of most awful
pense or honor, the sixty thousand teachers needed can-
import to the whole human race. Upward flights which
imt be obtained from their ranks, and therefoie the
the greatest poet would not dare attempt are here opened
young women of our country must become teachers of human
to our view; grand aud awful scenes that no
the common schools, or these must he given up.
genius could conceive or delineate are here shown,
2. That the reports of common school education show
through the veil of prophesy, to be surely approaching.
that women are the &ef teachers, and that in those States
Every true Christian, who believes what the Greai Re-
where education is must prosperous, the average of
deemer (They shall see the Son of Man coming in the
female teachers to that of the other sex is asjice ta one.
clouds of heaven, with power aud gieat glory Matt.
3. That while, as a general rule, women are not ex-
xsiv. 30.) declared to his followers should happen ought
pected to support families, nor to pay from their earnings
to read these books.
to support tlie State, they can alford to leach far a smaller
compensation than men, and theiefore funds bestowed
tu educate female teachers gratuitously will, in the end,
MY SHIP.

prove a measure aud at the same time will

of econoinij, Tx the purple flush of the twilight dim,
Way out on the ocean's most distant rira,
tend to render education more universal and more ele-
I watch for my ship in her gallant trim.
vated by securing the best class of teachers at a mode-
rate expense.
Pray tell me, good friends, have you seen my ship.
Her satin sails in the blue ocean dip ?
That those most willing to teach are chiefly found
4. I say sometimes with a quivering lip.

in the industrial class, which, as yet, has received few

"What 's the captain's name?" they ask, with a smile,
favors from National or State Legislatures. And I knnw they 're wondering all tlie while
5. That providing such gratuitous advantages for wo- At my sad question, so quaint in its style.
men to act as educators, will secure a vast number of My .'ihip 's the most royal yon e'er did behr-ld.
well educated teachers, not by instituting a class of Aud Strength was the name of the captain bold,
And Health was the freight, of value untold.
C'lihates, but by employing the unoccupied energies of
thousands of youug women from their school-days to the Some years a?o, on a drear stormy day.
She si^rend hev hriirhf sails and flew far away ;
period of marriage while, at the same time, they will
;
Oh watch for her coming, good sailor, I piay.
thus be qualifying themselves for the most aiduous du-
Toward the lake of the Sunrise she tnrned her bow.
ties of their future domestic relations.
And ilie hlue waves surged round her shining prow,
In view of these considerations, your memorialists 'Tis graved on my brain, I see it now.
petition that three or four millions of acres of the
So o'er that dark r^enn I .'^ill k^ep my eye.
PPBLic NATIONAL DOMAINS be Set apait to eudow at least I Ml watch for my bUip till the day tliat I die ;

I 've faith she will come though I do not know why.

one yormal Schonl in every State, for the gratuiions
education of Female Teachers. Then watch her coming, good Bailor, I pray.
for
These institutiiiDs could he modelled and managed in Be sure that you tell me the very same day.
And whether she's anchored in river or hay.
each State to suit ihe wishes of its inhabitants, and young Ertkllb.
ladies of every section would be train*d as instructors
for children in their own vicinity. This would be found Woman's Union Mr.ssioxABT Soctety of America,
of immense advantage in the States whore schools have
FOR Foreign Lands. We have had encouraging Re-
hitherto been neglected. ports from Mrs. Mason since her return to her School for
While such vast portions of the national domains are Karen girls. All her labors in regard to the Kiirens are
devoted to national aggrandizements, or physical advan- prospering. Our missionary. Mi~s Sarah A. Marston,
tages, we humbly moderate share may
petition that a who went out, October, 1S61, to found a School for Bur-
be conferred to benefit the Daughters of our Kepublic, man girls at Tounghoo, has been successful : her school
and thus at the same time to provide Educators for two is established : also five native women are :i]so employed
millions uf its most neglected children. as teachers of children at different mission stations in the
East. These teachers, except Mrs. Mason, are paid by
Books for Birthdays, Holidays, and Home Read-
* Mr. Carleton. Publisher. 413 Broadway. The vol-
ing.
The list of expensive books, prepared expressly iime^ a e hound in handsome style, the puper pood, and
for tho holiday season, has greatly dimiuithed, much to typo fair, making a valuable gift for a lady's library.
 HEALTH DEFAKTilEXT. 95

our " Wuraun'a Union," ecc. It isoncouragiug torecuid of the ladies of her own State, "for the instruction and
tbat the coMccciouiii btive l>een Hucce.s8lul. The hidies of eutcrtaiunicut atfoidcd them by the Lady's Book :" wish-
a^vf Voik aud Bostou aio ready with their fuud^ those ; ing us "all prosperity and hapiiiness In the future."
of Philudolpliiii will Dut be tound waiiliug. lint the Snch IVicuds, wo feel suie, are with us to-day; wo
hup<>H wo chorislied of assistance from hidies in the wish them all a Happy Kew Year.
\Wsu>rn Statos have not yet be*n fulfilled. We still We don't return poetry eveu if stamps are seut can't ;

hope that contributions of "Fancy articles and of Cliil- afford the time. Those who seud poetry must keep a
dreu's clothing," which cau bo sold by ladies at our copy. Consult this department aud you will see whether
missiouai-y stations to much advantage, will be for- it is accepted or rejected.
warded. Bt'xes or packuja'Csi uiuy bo seni to the Ediliess " Mary Mnylield." A letter sent to your address,
of the LaJy'i) Book. Saratoga Springs, N. T.

Miss S. J. Halb's Boardino and Day School for

Torxu Ladies,
I'oiina.
lS2b' Riitenhouse Square, Philadelphia,
Jcitltlj gfprtmfiit.
This school has now entered on its seventh year its ;
BY J NO . ST A I .N IS ACK WILSON, M D . .

RQCcess and present prosperity are very satisfactory to

iis friends.

The Bf.ds, Covering, etc. op Ixfa.vts.- Children, if al-

desisrn of the PrincipHl is to give a
liberal English education, to furnish iho best facilities for
C(iuiriug the French lauguage, aud the best instruction
in music and the other accomplishments The Assist-
ants employed are of the best class and highest merit.
French is tauyht by aa experienced instructress, a lady
lately from France who resides in the family and thus
thorough and
lowed should have beddiug sufficiently
to sleep aluue,
soft to prevent injurious and disagreeable pressure, and
the covering should be sufflcienc to protect from cold.
But at the same time, excessive covering aud over-heat-
iug should be cnreiully guarded against. Indeed, as
things are generally managed, there is much more dan-
;

ger of over-heating than of cold.

the pupils have ample opportunities of acquiring the
" It is too much the custom," as Dr. Condio truly re-
accomplishment of speaking the language.
Particalar and continued attention is paid to the moral marks, "to lay an infant when asleep wiih its body
warmly clad in a feather bed, and to cover it carefully
training, and also to the health and physical develop-
ment of the young ladies. with a thick blanket or two. The consequence is, that
in mild weather, or in a warm room, a copious perspira-
Referents: Mrs. Emma "Willard, Troy. N. T. Henry ;

Wm. tion is quickly produced, which, besides weakening the

Vethake, LL.D., B. Stevens, D. D., Wm. H. Ash-
child, exposes it to catarrhal or even more dangerous
hurst, Esq.. Louis A. Godey, Esq., Philadelphia; Charles
affections, when, upon its awaking, it is exposed to the
Hodee, I. D.. Princeton, N. J. ; and others.
air of the room, or perchance to the draft fmm an open
Circulars will be sent wherever required.
door or window." There can be no doubt that many of
the colds, croups, and bowel affectious of children are
To otTR
CoRRBSPOSDENTs. We have accepted the^e produced in the manner indicated by our writer. To
articles: '' Both Sides"
"Faithful to the end" " Di-s- avoid these evils, children should sleep on a good thick

otichanted" "John Broad" "At Sea at Night" "Is hair or cotton mattress, and the covering should be ju^-t

fieuius desirable?" " Homes and Husbands" "Peace, heavy enough to prevent chilliness. Of the two ex-

be Still" " .\unt Rachel" and " Reminiscences." tremes there is more danger from too much heat than
These articles are declined: "Unreal" "A Wish" from cold.
" My School" (a stamp must be sent when an answer i.^ Feather beds should be entirely and forever banished
r'^quested^
" Music of the Heart" "Jane Archer" from the nursery. They retain too much heat they ;

"The Golden Gate" "Agnes Day" (worth publishing, interfere with the e'ectric currents of the body they ;

bat we have no room) "The Zephyr" "Sunrise" are a reservoir of offensive and contagious matters ; and
"My Wife" (has some beautiful imagery and the senti- they are well calculared to occasion deformity in your^
ment is tender and holy, bat the rhythm is defective) children by their softness and compre-^sibility. Pillows

" Fort aneteUf-rs aud their Victims" " The Way of Life" of feathers are particularly objectionable. "Occasion-
" Edgetools"
"My Playmates" " Energy is the ally it happens, that when a young infant is placed in a.
greut lever of success" "Stories" "Beggars in the soft featherbed with a thick soft pillow, its own weighc

Street" and " Come to me" and the other poem. causes it head is brought entirely be-
to slip, so that its
We hoped to have reported on all the MSS. in onr neath the external coverings, and, in common with it*
hands; but are compelled for want of time to postpone body, becomes so completely buried in the feathers as to
a number till next month. endanger suffocation." Another great objection to soft
Aud now we take pleasure in expressing onr thanks feather pillows is that they keep the head excessively
to the many warm friends who have contributed to our warm, thus exposing the child to colds, eruptions on
pages during the past year. The
which pour in
letters the scalp And behind the ear-s and even to inflammation
their tribute's of enconragement are most welcome now, of tho brain, an affection to which young children are
when many circumstances are adverse to literary suc- peculiarly prone.
cess. We are glad to find that our magazine d'-es not To gnard asrainst these serious dangers, pillows shouM
even when it is old, as our friends often
lose its interest, be made, like the beds, of hair or cotton, and they should
assure ns that the Lady's Bonk, in hound vnlumes, ig hi' flat, so as to raise the head but slightly above the level
treasured in their family libraries. A charming letter ofthehody, thus avoiding the difficulty of slipping down.
from Mrs. T. K. says: "Ofren when unfurnished with, and the deformity of round shoulders. The faces of
books to my taste I turn to your magazines, published cJiildren should never be covered when asleep or awake,
years ago, and always find some new beauties." The a-id eve-y impediment to the free circulation of air
Lady goes on to tha^^k us for herself and aUo in the name should be removed.
96 gobey's lady's book and magazine.

Infants Should Slekp with Mother, etc. For the employ our spare hours upon. The quantity of infor-

firstmouth or two of their existence, inlauts should mation to be derived from its perusal is incalculable. It

sleep with the mother. At this tender age they canaot is an invaluable work. Price 15 cents per part.
generate suUicient heat of themselves without such a
quantity of covering as to prove injurious by its weight.
From Harper & Brothers, New York, through J. B.
But after the first few months, the child should be placed
LiPPiscoTT & Co., Phihidelphia:
in a cradle or cot by itself. The practice of leaving
ORLEY FARM: A Nood. By Anthony Trollope, aii-
children to sleep with old and infiim persons is attended
thor of " North America," "Framloy Parsonage," " Tlie
wiih the most serious difficulties. It is a well-estab-
Bertrams," etc. etc. Trollope has excelled himself in
lished fact that old and diseased persons of feeble vital
the present work It is by far the best of his productions
powers will abstract from the vitality of younger and
that we have yet read. It is especially a character
more healthy persons when brouglit in contact with, or
novel, and each figure is boldly and strikingly personi-
close proximity to them. This must certainly predis-
fied. Some portions of the book, ou this account, remind
pose strongly to disease; while children thus exposed
us of Dickeus. Lady Mason, the heroine, is a woman
are liable to contract actual disease fj-om imbibing the
that challenges admiration at the same time that she
foul secretions, and breathing the impure air arising
repulses. Sir Peregrine Orme is one of the noblest
from diseased persons. On the same principle, the
specimens of the English gentry. Mrs. Orme is so geu-
kissing and foadling of children by diseased people,
tle, so forgiving, so truly womanly and Christian-tike,
strangers, and servants should be avoided.
and carries all these qualities to such a degree, that we
cannot help wondering at the boldness of the author for
fl3'ing in the face of generally received sentiment, in thus
I'ituiir]]
c* Uotins. daring to describe her. We cannot think of undertaking
a description of the plot, but we cordially commend tlia

Books by Mail. Now tliat the postage on printed book to our readers. It is finely illustrated by J. E.
Millais. Price $1 25.
matter is so low, wo
our services to procure for
offer
our subscribers or others auy of the books that we notice. A MANUAL OF INFORMATION AND SUGGESTIONS
Information touching books will be cheerfully given by FOR OBJECT LESSONS, in a Course of Elfnierdary In-
struction. Adapted to the Use of the School and Family
inclosing a stamp to pay return postage.
When ordering a book, please mention the name of the Charts, and other aids in Teaching. By Marcius Will-
sou, author of "Willsou's Historical Series," "School
publisher.
and Family Readers," etc. etc. We have given this
From Petersos & Brothers, Philadelphia:^ work a careful consideration, both as to the theory upon
ANDKEE DETAVERNEY; The Voionfnil of French
or, which it is based, and the matter it contains. Though
Monarchy. In two volumes.
Being the final conclu- it is daring emmgh to propose a thorough reform iu our

fiiou of the "Countess of Charay," "The Memoirs of present system of education, we are yet sufficiently con-
a Physician," "Queen's Necklace," and "Six Years vinced of the necessity of such a reform, to be willing to

Later." By Alexander Dumas, author of the "Iron sustain it in all it proposes. Its plan is to depend less

Mask," etc. etc. Written in its author's best vein, this on the ne of the memory of the pupil alone, and to de-
is undoubtedly the most exciting and absorbing novel velop and strengthen his perceptive faculties. We
of the series to which it belongs, and of which it is the believe this book will prove an invaluable aid to the
conclusion. Price oO cents per volume. teacher who comprehends its purpose, and is ready to
adopt its suggestions ; though uo good teacher will rely
From J. & Co., Philadelphia:
B. Lippincott upon it altogether, but will see the advantage of carry-

THE PHANTOM BOUQUET. A Papular Treatise on ing out the principle to an unlimited extent, drawing
the Art of Skddonizing LenvRs and Sced-vessehi, nnd upon his own resources, in every branch of science.

Adapting th^rn to Brabdlish Uie Home of Taide. By Ed- Price $1 00.

ward Parrish, Member of the Academy of Natural Sci- A SYSTEM OF LOGIC, Comprising a Discussion of
ences of Philadelphia, etc. etc. The author has kindly the various Means of Acquiring and Rdaining Knum-
furnished to the lovers of artistic recreation this little l^idge, and Avoiding Error. By P. McGregor, A. M. The
volume, giving as complete information concerning the system of logic here presented is remarkable fnr clciir-

process of skeletonizing leaves and seed-vessels as can ness, precision, and compact fulness. We cannot call
he conveyed by words. We have no doubt many of our to mind any similar work so well calculated to meet the
young friends who would gladly devote a portion of wants of students. Without any effort at simplicity of
their leisure time to an employment so pleasing, will language or style, its author has succeeded iu making
avail themselves of this assistance in preparing and his book one that can be understood by those who are
grouping the (delicate, hice-Iike bouquets which are at expected to apply to it for assistance. As a general
once so beautiful ana -easily obtained.
.-.:: Price 7.) cents. thing, our "systems of logic," hitherto, have not pas-
THE BOOK OF BAYS No-.. i_ S. and 9. We have sessed this desideratitin to a noticeable ex.tent. Price
received the above numbers of this valuable work. We $1 00
are certain that every one who could secure a single MEMOIRS OF THE REV. NICHOLAS MURRAY, D. D.

number of this work would subscribe for it at once. (KIRWAN). By Samuel Prime, author of
Irenaius

Pri'e \ry cents per part.

" Travels in Europe and the East," " Letters from Switz-

CHAMBERS'S ENCYCLOPEDIA. Nbs. 53 and 54, erland," etc. etc. The biography of a clergyman, who^
with engravings. This Encyclopedia, when finished, at one time, enj oyed quite an extensive reputation in the
will be a most valuable library work. The minds of the religious world. It is written in a familiar and easy

most eminent men in Europe are engaged upon it, and it style, and the materials furnished its author have been

ia in its detail very full and satisfactory. Each number sufficiently well arranged. The work has evidently
work beea a labor of love, and the friendly spirit thus evoked
is a study in itself; we would want no better to
 LITERABY NOTICES. 97

gires to tho book a gentle chnrm that it mi^bt aot other- present volume comprise a full account of the early st-t-

wise liave in)S'*essed. Price ^\ 00. tlement of New York and the New England colonies.
THE LIFE OF EDWARD lUVINO, Sfinister of the Wo should be better plea^^cd with these histories, had
yatumal Sc'ttch Church, London. ItlustriittMi by his not Mr. Abbott, evidently aclin:; upon some peculiar
JouroaU Hod Correspouileuce. By Mis. Ollphiint. The notion of 'his own about the dryucss uf such things^
lire* of clerk'ymeo, geoerally speaking, preseot few in- almost entirely discarded the use of dates. Price 75
clJeots calrulated to render the record of them iiuiver- ceuls.
itally attractive. The life of the subject of this biogniphy
C'UiId not rightly be called an exception to the general From TiCKXOR Sc Fields, Boston, through Petbbsum
rule. Nevertheless Mrs. Oliphant has invested the his- & Bkothhks, Philadelphia:
tory of the comparatively uneventful career of the pious EYES AND EARS. By Henry Ward IJeccher. This
and elotiueut Irving with attractions which will go far book is a collection of short sketches, essays, etc., origi-

to procure for it a wider circle of readers than usually nally newspaper publication. They a,
written for
falls to the lot of works similar in character. Wo know lively, amusing, and sentimental by turus, and not un-
of no more ctrikiug picture of an earliest, faithful, in- wortliyofa reading; tliough we almost wonder at their
domitable, hard-working minister than this interesting being thought of sufficient importance, by either author
volume affords. Price $3 00. or publisher, of being preserved in book form. Article*
written thus on demand, from week to week, should bo
read at ouce, as soon as prepared, or else, however bril-
From Sheldon & Co., New York, through Smith,
liant and sparkling they may have been, like soda-
ENt'i.isn,& Co., Philadelphia:
water, they are apt to become insipid when the effer-
MIRIAM. By Marion Harland. Marion Harland is
vescence has passed off. Price $1 25.
one of the few American authoresses whose names and
THE POEMS OF OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. A
fames have had something more than an ephemeral ex-
choice volume in blue and gold, containing the
little
istence. The public acknowledged her genius when, a
complete poetical works of this famous American humor-
few years ago, " Alone," was issued from the press.
ist. Let those who wish to laugh, as well as those who
Other authors have made as brilliant commencements,
wish to make a valuable addition to their poetical li-
but have neglected to follow them up altogether, or their
brary, be grateful to Messrs. Ticknor & Fields for the
second efforts have been such signal failures, that their
means of gratification afforded them. Price SS cents.
names were quickly buried in obscurity. But not so the
gifted lady of which we speak. We have now her fifth
From T. O. H. P. Burnham, Boston, through J. B.
work before us, though we trust it is far from being the
LlPPiNCOTT & Co., Philadelphia:
climax of her literary labors. "Miriam" is a truly
Womanly book, but bearing throughout its pages the
THE VICTORIES OF LOVE. By Coventry Patmore,
author of "The Angel in the House," etc. The admirers
evidence of the pen of a high-souled, intelligent, and
of the author of that exquisite little domestic poem,
Christian woman. The character of Miriam is a noble
"The Angel in the House," will find many of the cha-
conception, and ably illustrated. She is altogether dif-
racteristics in the present volume whicli gave to that
ferent from the namby-pamby class of girls which nove-
work its Coventry Patmore, however,
chief attraction.
lists too frequently consider as being especially qualified
does not seem to us an improving ]>oet. His first Work
for heroines. Miriam is characterized by energy, strength
is, to our mind, his best. In "The Victories of Love,"
of purpose, dignity, and rare intellectual gifts, combined
he has adopted a style of rhymiug that is entirely too
with qualities which are considered as being more espe-
easy for the purposes of poetry. If the various epistlea
cially feminine. And, most wonderful, most commend-
which form this present volume had been given to us
able, she is no beauty. What Miriam is as a woman,
without rhyme, and with no attempt at metre, they
such is Neale Thome, the hero, as a man. A lively va-
riety to the theme is the little chatter-box, Mrs. Fry, with
would certainly have sounded better, and, in all proba-
her many good intentions, and her frequent journeys to bility,would have pleased a larger number of reader-*
the " valley of humiliation." than they will in their present shape. Price 50 cents.
The story is ingeniously
arranged; and though everything is not just as you
might wish it for instance, you wish Mrs. Hartley From .T. E. Tilton & Co., Boston;
might open her eyes to the true character of her grace- THE ALDEN BOOKS. By Joseph Alden,
Illustrated.
less son still the reading of the book affords one intense D. D comprising
,

pleasure. The prestige of Marion Harland's name is a The Cardinal Flower and OVifr Tnl^g. ;

sufficient guarantee for its merits, while we believe this The Ln.iHT-HEARTKD Girl a Tale/or Children. ;

work will be pronounced better than her previous ones. The Lost Lamb and The Burial op the First Borit.
;

Price $1 2.5.
SERMONS. Preached and Revised by the Rev. C. H.
Spurgeon. Seventh series. The admirers of the Rev.
fllr. Spnrgeon will find in this volume twenty-two
ser-
mons, exhibiting, in a marked manner, all the peculi-
arities of style and thought which have rendered their
author so popular. Price $1 00.
AMERICAN HISTORY. By Jacob Abbott. lUnstrated
with numerous Maps and Engravings. Vol. IV. North-
ern Colonies. The series of ttttle histories to which this
volume belongs, promises to be most useful and instruct-
ive, as well as entertaining.It presents to the youth of
our time a source of information of which they should
not hesitate to make a good use. The conleuti of the
VOL. LXVI.
The Reverend author has done faithful service in the
cause of family happiness by devoting his thoughts and
time to the preparation of this series of books for the
young. The stories are very interesting, full of wi^e
sentiment and cheerful hope; they are entertaining as
Fairy Tales, yet instructive even to mature Christians.
The style is simple and natural, and the words so fitly
chosen that while the youngest reader can comprehend
the meaning, the scholar's taste will feel the books are
from the pen of a good and learned man. The publish-
ers have made np the set in beautiful style.
REWARD CARDS, from the same publishers, are
pretty and useful in Family instrnction and Sunday
Schools.
98 godey's lady's book and magazine.

From Carter & Brothers, New York: " Most of the large daily newspapers in Western New
VESPER. By Bladame the Countess de Gasparin. Our York have advauced the price of the issues. An editor
readers will remember the notice of a foimer work by of a leading New York daily informed us last week that
this fascinating' writer
*' The Near and the Heavenly the publishers in that city would soon follow suit.

Horizons" in our Table of last February. This new Many of the country journals have also been published
book, "Vesper," has the same tender sentiment of love at increased prices. The advance is caused mainly ty
for God's works and trust iu his mercy, which made the the advance in printing stock."
first work so charming. Madame de Gasparin paints in
words, and this charming little book will find, as her We ask attention to our advertisement for 1863, pub-
other one did, thousands of readers. It deserves them. lished iu this number. It is but a faint outline of what

NED MANTON or, The Cottage by the Stream. By

; we will do, but will give some general idea of what the
A. L. 0. E. We need not waste words in commending a Lady's Book will be. In fact, it is hardly necessary for
book for children which has the initials of this popular us to publish any advertisement. Our subscribers at.d
writer. We think her books among the best which are the public know that we will publish the best lady's
found in our Sunday Schools, and for Sunday reading. book in the world: and they have known us so lung
LITTLE WALTER OF WYALUSING. By a Guest in that they are willing to trust us, even without auy
*'
the old castle." This is an American book, the story promises on our part. We are thankful, very thankful
of a little boy, whose short life of less than seven years for the patronage we have received for the last thiriy-
has formed a very interesting sketch. The touching tbree years and we can only add that, having found that
;

trait is the tender love which the character of this child fulfilling every promise made has been the best policy,
awakened in the hearts of all who knew him. that plan we shall still continue to pursue.

Marion Harland. We call attention to the first por-

tion of the story of " Husks" in this number. We think
iohji's Jnn-Cljair. that our subscribers will say, when they have finished
the story, that it is her best.

GoDEY FOR January. The first number of the sixty- From present appearances this will be our largest

sixth volume a holiday number. Wo give a list of the subscription year. We wish that the price of pjper
prominent embellishments " A New Year's Gift,"
:
would allow it to be a more profitable one.
which is an engraving we think will be understood and
appreciated. A further notice of it will be found else- Notice to those who Send us Drafts or Checks.
where. " New Year," an emblematical plate of the past Be particular, when you puichase a draft or check to
and present season. If this picture were not otherwise send us, that the same has the proper stamp affixed to it
beautiful, it would be valuable to every family for the by the person from whom you procure it.
very admirable likeness of Washington, taken from Ecctracts from the Law.
Stuart's celebrated painting. Our Fashion-plate con- " Stamps must be affixed to all documents by the party
tains five beautiful figures; fhese plates praise them-
issvinff the same."
selves. The " Daisy travelling or winter hood," is the
"The person using or affixing a stamp must write
best piece of color printing we have ever given. We
thereupon the initials of his name, and the date when
publish in this number the *' Old Sewing-Machine." In
used."
the February number we shall give the "New Sewing-
"The penalty for making, signing, or issuing any
Machine.'' In addition to the above will be found dresses,
instrument, document, or paper of any kind without the
hoods, crochet-work, braiding and embroidery patterns,
same having thereon a stamp to denote the duty is $J0,
fancy ties, braided slipper, headdresses, toilet pin-
and such a paper will be invalid and of no effect.
cushions, cloaks, an alphabet of letters, pocket for la-
Any check on a bank, or sight draft, over $20 requires *

dy's dress, pincushion, and about fifty other articles,

a two cent stamp $20 and under no stamp is required.
;

designed expressly for the ladies' work-table. Thi is

a specimen of what we mean to do this year. With

Club Rates. Godey's Lady's Book and Harper's
thanks for former favors we wish all our old friends a
Magazine, one year, $4 50. Godey's Lady's Book and
Happy New Year.
Arthur's Magazine, one year, $.3 50. All three of these
magazines, one year, $6. Godey and Madame Demo-
The Price of Clubs. Owing to the increased price of rest's Quarterly Book of Fashions and Patterns, one
paper, unprecedented iu this country, we shall be obliged
to advance the price of clubs, commencing with the is-
suing of the February number, as follows: One copy, Literary Associations. We now commence in time to
$3. Two copies, $5. Three copies, $G. Five copies, $10. warn our subscribers against sending their money
to auy

Eleven copies, $20 no extra copy given. Even at this

; association purporting to furnish the Lady's Book as part
price there will be no profit on clubs. We can give our of the inducement to subscribe, and promising them great
readers no idea of the panic in paper. One month it will prizes in some future drawing of a lottery. We will not
be one price, the next month twenty per cent, will be be responsible in any way. We will also add that we have
added to the price, and the next twenty more and ; no agents forwhose acts we are responsible. We only send
what will be the eventual price it is at present impossi- the Lady's Book when the money is sent direct to us.
ble to say. Canada clubs of five subscribers only, and
no extra copy, $11 25, which includes the postage. A gentleman in England once died suddenly while he
Our price to dealers will also be increased. was writing a letter to his brother. When his executor

The Price of Newspapers. The Rockport Repvblic found the letter among his papers, he finished and
has the following in reference to the increase of the price signed it as follows: "While I was writing this, I fell
of newspapers: dead. Your afi"ectionate brother, ."
 GODET'S ARM-CHAIR. 99

OUR MUSICAL COLUMN. the Wars. Price 25 cents each, or we will .send the five
toany address for ijl 00.
At thts wriliD^ tbtj city is being Gottscbalked, and
The Musical Editor will continue to purchase and
concerts and foirt'vs rule
tlie day. Opera is lu-nuin^' vip,
mail any music ordered, or will cheerfully give any in-
h "wever, and tho year will Dot go out without perwit-
formation requested concerning music. In these Christ-
tiu< us a taste. But, while waitiog for the legitimalo,
mas and New Year holiday times especially our friends
who shall Torbid us ctijoying the burlesque, as it is
making presents should draw largely frum the above
fouud at the Elvouth Street Opera House? Everything
list, or the lists in past numbers of the Book, as a tine
is well managed there. Even Damboltoa's famous
assortment of music makes one of the most acceptable of
troupe, which used to set the London ^^i/ craiy, were
presents. Address, at Philadelphia,
nothing compared with Carncross & Dixey's. Cnrncfvisa
J. Stark Hollowat.
is a sweet singer; and Dixey well, we heard a lady
say there is but one Dixey. And then the Burlesque
Monster Coucert, got up in the style of Jullien's! If Se.vd me a Specimen Number. We never hesitate to
ttiore could be a better mimic of JuUiea in all his re- send a specimen when we think that it is honestly
niut'kable exaggeratioos as an impresario than Frank asked for but here is another attempt at imposition. A
;

Slorau we beg his pardon, Signor Moranio we should man writes to us from a town in Ohio, for specimens of
like to see bim. Caricatured or not, there is good music Ixuh/s B'tok, Arthur, and Harper. He also wrote to
dowa Eleventh Street. Their overtures and choruses Mr. Arthur for specimens of Arthur^s Magazine and
would shame some orchestras and singers we have Lady's Book. Thus far we know. No doubt he has
the Academy.
bi.-ard at also written to the Messrs. Harper, and the Atlantic and
KnicktrbncktT for specimens, and probably to every
Tfie Operatic World. Vox the purpose of familiarizing
other magazine in the country. If any publisher wants
young piano players with the best music from operas,
his name, we will send it to him.
Firth, Pond, & Co., of Xcw York, are now issuing a fine
publication with the above title. Each number is com-
A Nice Sitcatios fob a Little Bot in the parquet
plete,and contains two or three gems from some opera.
of a theatre, behind a lady with a very fashionable boA-
Those we have seeu are La Favorita, LElisir d'Amore,
net on of the present style.
Auaa Boleiia, Satauella, Luisa Miller, and >'abucudono-
sor. Price of each 2o cents, on receipt of which we will
purchase and mail to any address. The Foster Home. This institution, situated at the
corner of Twentieth and Hamilton Streets, has accom-
y^w Snnga and Ballads. H. Tolman & Co., Boston,
plished a large amount of good under the care of the
have just published a pretty song, Minnie Ray; a beau-
benevolent ladies who have it in charge. It provides
tifulballad. Can I Go, Dearest Mother? by Covert;
for the wants of many children who would otherwise
Angels, my Darling, will Rock thee to Sleep, sung by
be left to suffer. Among others, the children of Withers
the Barker family; The Angels' Call, song by Oechs-
nor; and Ferdinand Mayer's arrangement of We are
who are doing duty as soldiers, who otherwise would
be left to suffer, and probably become outcasts. It cares
Coming, Father Abram, or Three Hundred Thousand
More, adapted as a song or quartette. Price of each 2a for the children in such a way as to make them useful
members of society. Would any lady visit the estab-
cents.
lishment, she would become at oj^ce convinced of its
The new songs from Firth, Pond, & Co. 's press are
utility; she would see how happy the children are,
Mother, Oh Sing me to Rest, in the style ofRock me to
how well they are cared The war has necessarily
for.
Sleep, 2j ceats. I "U be Home To-Morrow, new ballad
increased the demand and
for its beneficent agencies,
by S. C. Foster, 2.'j. Come in and Shut the Door, and
it is now consideiably straitened for funds. With a
The Last Broadside, two beautiful songs by Fred Bock-
largely increased family, and the winter season ap-
,ley, of Buckley's Opera Troupe, each 2.5. Oh Let me
proaching, its means are nearly exhausted, and in this
Shed one Silent Tear, author of Cottage by the Sea, 35.
state of things an appeal is made to the benevolent to
Comrades, Touch the Elbow, same author, 25. There's
come to its succor. The ladies who manage the " Home"
Beauty in the Summer Flower, an exquisite quartette
do not feel that they can apply personally to the pub-
by Laurence, 10 pages, 50 cents.
lic, and they trust that this appeal will be successful,
AVw Pieces, etc. The same publishers issue splendid
and that the power and usefulness of the " Home" may
variations on the army
air, Marching Along, by Grobe,
be strengthened by liberal donations. Persons wishing
10 pages, 50 cents, Himmel's Battle Prayer, transcribed to contributemay leave the funds at the office of the
by Julius E. Muller, 3.>; and a charming bagatelle by Lady's Book, 323 Chestnut Street, or with Mrs. Godet,
G. Wm. Warren, Harry's Music Box, 25 cents.
No. 1517 Chestuat Street.
The popular air, Adams and Liberty, as played by the
military bands, is published by H. Tolman & Co., who

Literary News. Our readers will be pleased to hear
aUo issue at the same price (35 cents) a fine transcrip- that we have made arrangements with JIarion Harland,
tion by Baumbach of Lnuis' exquisite nocturne, De-
the well-known author of "Alone,*' "Hidden Path,'*
parted Days; at 25 cents, Perini's Hilton Head Waltz;
"Moss Side," "Nemesis," and "Miriam," for a series of
at 40 Magdalena, new fantaisie, by the author of The
stories. Every number for 1S63 will contain a story
Maiden's Piayer; and at 50 cents a splendid new set
from her pen. This is a c.implimeut to the Book, as she
of waltzes by Strauss, entitled Gedankenfiug (stray
writes for no other magazine. The stories will be copy-
thoughts), 11 pages.
righted, so that they may not be found anywhere but in,
New Music hyVi^. Editor. We have just published new the pages of the Lady's Book.
editions of our own songs. Beautiful Valley (third edi-
tion in a few weeks)Poor Ben the Piper (seventh edi-
; Postage on the Lady's Book. Postage for three
OLady, Touch those Chords Again The Minstrel's
ti-in) ; : months, if paid in advance at the office where it is re-

Grave and The Passing Bell, or Hume Returning from

; ceived, four and a half cents.
100 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE,

Make dp your Ci.dbs. Remember that the Lady's Book Club of $10.
is the best work for ladies published in this country. We Tour magazine is a welcome monthly visitor, without
have more tha,u ojie tlwusand jtvivnte letters testifying to it I don't know how could procure the Pashious in
I

this fact, and the press throughout the country is unani- time. Most of the other monthlies are, I find, behind
mous in saying that the Lady's Book is the best magazine you in the Fashions. M. M., Kew York.
of its kind in this or any other country. The difference in Dear have had your Lady's Book for two
Sir: I
the club price of the Lady's Book and that of other maga- years, aud would not, on any account, be without it, and
zines is only a few cents, and for these few cents you get so I have been telling my friends and have succeeded ;

nearly one-third more reading and engravings, besides in getting up a club. Please accept my warmest thanks
other more expensive embellishments that a low-priced for your useful and elegant Book. Miss R., Masa,
magazine cannot afford to give. Clubs must be for the
Club of $10.
Lady's Bonk alone, with one exception, and that is "Ar-
Accept many thanks for the pleasure you have given
thur's Home Magazine.*' One or more of that work can
us during the year. Though we feel the depressing in-
be introduced in a club in place of the Lady's Book, if
fluence of the times, we cannot yet feel that we can give
desired.
up the Book which always comes with so pleasant and
Any person, with a very little trouble, can get up a club cheerful a greeting. Mrs. K., Ohio.
for the BuLik we have frequently been
; so informed by
ladies the work is so popular. It is but to call and get a I enclose $10 for the Lady's Book. It is a welcome
visitor to me, for it has gladdened my household for four
subscription. Clubs are always in time, as we are able to
years, and has improved every year. I hope it will
it
supply numbers from the beginning of the year; yet we
likethem sent in soon, to know how many we shall print. still continue to be the best magazine published.
Remember, that a work with LjO.OOO subscribers can give Mrs. H., Conn.
five times as much
work with only half that number,
as a
and the embellishments can also be made of a very supe- A Bit of German RoMANcrso. In a hook published
rior character. at Berlin, under the title of "Schultze and Muller in
Our terms are made plain and explicit, bo that they may London," is the following passage: "At a quarter to
be easily understood. We are often asked to throw in an six we went to the great Post Office. As to-morrow is I
extra copy. In no instance can this be done, as our terms Sunday it was to-day an extraordinary crowd, and
are so low to clubs that it cannot be afforded. A shop- especially the squeeze was tremendous round the news-
keeper would look amazed, a purchaser should ask himif paper-box, when as the Englishman says, the newspa-
to throw in an extra yard because she had purchased pers are thrust in in bales and it is, indeed, on a grand
;

twelve. And yet we are asked to add an extra copy be- scale, since the 2'ime^ alone has 16,000,000 subscribers.
cause twelve have been ordered. It cannot be done. I wai ned Schultze not to go so near the crush, but he did
not hear me. As he was standing there there cornea
great shock of newspaper boys running with bales of
Sanford has opened a very pretty place of amusement
newspapers and throwing them in at the window. A
under Concert Hall, Chestnut Street. The performances
bale of newspapers hits Schultze on the head he loses ;

are very good, but we have one piece of advice, both to

his balance and tips head-forwards into the bureau half ;

Sanford and Carncross Si Dixey give us more negro

a dozen officials immediately seize him, stamp him in the
melodies we don't#want to hear a stalwait looking
;

stomach, and the unhappy Schultze is dispatched as an

negro singing love songs. Bad enough to bear a white
unpaid newspacket to the provinces. At this moment
man giving utterance to such songs as "Love me, dear-
the box is closed with a snap. I rush against it and cry,
esit," "I'll love thee ever," "Fondly I'll love thee."
'Schultze Schultze !' But it was too late. Yourunhappy
We go to hear negro minstrelsy, and don't want white
!

son-in-law was already packed in the post-cart, and went

folks' songs. As the old negro said when reproached for
off with the bale of newspapers to the South-Eastern
tlirowing in the water a fine black fish he had caught,
Railway. I run into the buieau of the postmaster, and
"When I fishes for catties, I fish for catties."
demanded back your son-in-law. 'Is your friend ad-
diessed?' he asks. 'No,' I answered. 'Very well,'
Notes of all solvent banks received in payment ; but
says the Englishman, 'Mr. Schultze will remain for six
when the amount is $10 and over, drafts had better be
months in the bureau, and, if no one applies for him, he
sent. A sight draft of $20, and under that amount, re-
will be burned as a dead letter.' "
quires no excise stump.

New Table Orxamekts. ^Ladies are introducing a A CArTiors Ma?j. As a pedestrian tourist was lately
new and ornament for the parlor mantel or
beautiful proceeding towards Trenton, he asked a man who was
centre-table. They take large pine burs, >priukle grass breaking stones; by the roadside how long it would take
seeds of any kind iu them, and place them in pots of him to reach that place. The man looked at him with-

water. When the burs are soaked a few days they close out speaking and then resumed his work. The question
up in the form of solid cones, then the little spears of was repeated with the same result, and at last the
green grass begin to emerge from amongst the laminae, traveller walked on. He had not proceeded more than a
forming an ornament of rare and simple beauty. hundred yards when the man called after him and made
a sign fur him to return. When the pedestrian reached
An advertisement to this effect appeared in one of the the stonebreaker, the latter said to him, " It will take
papers: "A citizen wishes to find the sura of i^.'iO.OOO. you an hour to reach Trenton." "Then why did you
Ifany one will tell him where to find it, he will give not tell me so at first?" said the traveller. "Why,"
him half of the money." replied the man, " it was necessary for me first to see at
what you walked, and, from the way you step out,
rate
Our very able musical editor, Mr. Holloway, opens I am now able to say that you can do the distance in an
the year with a piece of music of his own composition. hour."
 godey's arm-chair. 101

THE FAIRT SBWING-HACHIKE. A HOLIDAT GIFT FOE THE WORK-TABLE

Ar many of oar readers are anxiou^ t. ki,-v, ,

.;-;. .1. l.^^l .li. --maker. In spring and summer it is invaluable ; for
the new sewing-raachiae introduced by Mme. Demurest, the hoasehold it supplies a vacant place for mure delicate
aiid alluded loin our Xuvember number, is, we will tell uses. As in sewing by hand one seamstress is required
them what we think of its nses and advantages. for heavy work, another only undertakes fine sewing,
or certain parts of it, so with sewing-machines. Every
WHAT IT 18.
owner of these household blessings is willing to give five
I5 the first place it will attract attention frnm its di- dollars for a "tucker'* or " hemmer," or any improve-
minutive, fairy-like tiize, ment that facilitates work it is just the price asked for
and the ease with which this little gleaner in the great harvest field of industry,
it can be carried, an im- that modestly keeps its own place, nor seeks to usurp
V' portant matter to a seam- one already a most useful and appropriate
^ stress or dressmaker em- gift for
filled. It is

the holidays, being packed for this purpose in a

ployed from house to pretty case, and ornamental in itself.
house. It is contained The price is only $5. Address Madame Demorest, 473
ordinary paper-box, much the Broadway, New York.
an ordinary square photo-
: album, and may be carried
From an Editor.
vith the same ease. When
In use attached to an ordinary table, afier the fash-
it is
Fbiesd Godet: am bothered to the roundest every
I

month with persons who wish to borrow your valuable

Ion of a sewing-bird. There is no machinery below, the
Book they (the ladies) know it is the best book of fash-
whole motive-power being a small crank, which is ;

ions, and they are sending from all quarters of the town
turned with ease.
to my better half to borrow it she does hate the prin-
;

HOW IT WOEKa. ciple, and often tells me to publish them. She is very
Its operntion is wonderfully simple. An ordinartj afraid that you will discontinue it to this office, if I do
sewing needle is threaded, the eye placed in a socket, not publish the borrowers. However, in the long run,
which may be seen in the cnt the point must rest op-
; I believe it is an advantage to you, because they sub-

posite the centre of the cog wheel, and for this reason scribe to the Book after awhile that is, I have known ;

the socket may be adjusted by a simple screw, pushed several ladies who have subscribed after examining our
backwards or forwards as the needle is longer or shorter. copy. Tours truly, B.
This is the chief judgment required. The commence-
ment of the seam is held to the point of the needle, which
A Pre.(pxt for a Ladt. Did it ever strike any of onr
takes it up antil the needle is full, when a reverse move-
young friends that they could not make a more agree-
ment of the crank is made, the work drawn off, and it
begins afresh.
able Christmas or New
Tear's present to a young lady
than a year's subscription to the Lady's Book ? Will it
WHAT IT D0E3. not monthly call the donor to their remembrance, and
What no other sewing-machine attempts to do, it rtiJW, will they not be particularly gratified in receiving so
and does not stitch, it sews the more delicate materials, useful a present?
wliich an ordinary sewing-ntachioe cuts or draws. The
cambrics for infants' clothing, the Swiss muslin for A LADY once wrote to her absent husband thus: "I
Swiss waists, skirts of soft fabric, Nansook, muslin, and write to you because I have nothing to do; I stop be-
mou!iseline de laine(aU wool), can be traced beautifully cause I have nothing to say."
by it.

Breadths of fine flannel^, monsselines, summer pop- The best $."* and the best $2 monthly are offorM one
lins, and ail Utin/abrics, can be run up with it. For the year for $3 50. See advertisements in this number.
9*
102 GODEY's lady's book and MAGjtZINE,
RURAL RESIDENXE.
Designed expressly for Godey's Lady's Book by Isaac H. Hobbs, Archited, PkUaddphia.
In presenting to the public the above design, I have
taken pains to make it practicable. The building is in-
tended to be built of stone, and roughcabt but if built of
; if made of wood, wliere roughcasting is done.
brick, the walls may be reduced to 13 inches in thick-
e~s, and will need do internal lining, which must
always be done when they are balk of stone. The win-
dow-frames are intended to be made plank front, which
need no outside lintels, as they are always objectionable
The roof of the main building is intended
to be built of slate or shingles, as choice
may determine ; but if the loft rooms are
to be fitted for sleeping rooms, shingles
should be preferred, as they make them
more pleasant in warm weather. Bay-
window and veranda roofs must he of tin,
and preparation should he made for them
\a. as the building goes up. All conductors,
lightning rods, and all other work to be
fastened to the walls, and work put up
inside around the windows previous to
roughcasting, as in the peiformance of
them there is much danger of laying the
foundation for cracked and scaling walls.
Many are prejudiced against roughcasting
on that account, but if it is properly done,
and in a good season of the year, with
sharp sand and good lime, well beaten
together, avoiding the covering of any
wood-work, cutting it off neatly at the
edges of frames, as the adjar caused by tho
striking of doors and shutters will shatter
the work. The color, if possible, should
be obtained by the use of colored sand,
which is by far the most durable and
natural in appearance. The more it is
worked in beating it together the less
danger of blisters. More sand than lime
can be osed, which is always de-sirable.
Base courses must always be placed as
hi^h up as the veranda fl.mrs, mude <if
etone. pointed, or bricks, and painted.
Cement is not to be relied upon, and as
I have found by
experience a poor substitute for either of thp above.
Isaac U. Hobbs, Architect.
 GODEY S ARM-CHAIR. 103

The Men who Make Spellino-Books.

Will not some person start up aud make a
spelling-book that will cunt ain words that
there may be some possibility that one
of them may housed some time in the next
fifty years? We have before us now a
spelliug-book in which are some words
that in an intercourse with the world of
some sixty years we never have heaid
used and we will venture to say that we
;

will ask one hundred men iu commou

life, and no two out of the hundred will

he able to tell the meaning, and no one

out of the same number will be able to
spell the word. It is a common complaint,
and we hear it every day, that children
come from school and cannot spell, simply
from the reason that they are kept at
Words not in use, and not at those used in
common every-day life.

Many Scbscribebs. Tou have proba-

bly seen, by the way the fashion is fdded
in the December number, how stupid your
bookbinder must have been.

SOME HINTS. PHILADELPHIA AGENCY.

In remitting, try to procure a dr;ift, and don't fail to No order attended to unless the cash accompanies it.
indorse it. All persons requiring answers by mail must send a
Address L. A. Godey, Philadelphia, Pa. That is snfB- post-office stamp and for all articles that are to be sent
;

cieoC. by mail, stamps must bo sent to pay return postage.

If a lady is the writer, always prefix Mrs. or Miss to Be particular, when writing, to mention the town,
her siguatare, that we may know how to address a county, and State you reside in. Nothing can be made
reply. out of post-marks.
Town, County, and State, always in your letter. E. B. H. Sent infant's wardrobe October 18th.
If yon miss a number of any magazine, always write Miss G. McD. Sent bonnet ISth.
to the publishers of the magazine. If Arthur's, address Mrs. G. Sent pattern 20lh.
S. T.
T. S. Arthur & Co., Philadelphia; if Harper's, address Miss D. A. Sent knitting cotton 22d.
Messrs. Harper & Brulhers, Xew York. H. F. B. Sent hair chain 22d.
When a number of the Lady's Book is not received, Miss E. L. B. Sent velvet trimming 22d.
write at once fur it don't wait until the end of the
; Mrs. H. W. W. Sent articles by express 23d.
year. Miss D. A. D Sent patterns 23d.
When inclosing money, do not trust to the sealing Mrs. A. B. Sent zephyr by express 2-ilh.
matter on an envelope, but use a wafer in addition. Mrs. 0. G. P. Dry
goods have advanced here very
Mrs. Hale is not the Fashion Editress. Address "Fash- much, and the same articles we purchased you which
ion Editress, care L. A. Godey, Philadelphia " then cost $104, we could not duplicate for $134.
When you st-nd money for any other publication, we Mrs. 0. M. W. Sent patterns 24th.
pay it over to the publisher, and there our responsibility W. R. Sent corsets 27th.
ceases. Miss A. M. Sent hair ring 2.Sth.

We can always supply back numbers. C. La P. Sent hair ring 2Sth.

Subscriptions m.ty commence with any number of the Mrs. H. S. H. Sent pattern 28th.

year. A. F. N.Sent braid 2Sth.

The postage on the Lady's Book, if paid three months Mrs. E. B. H. Sent articles 2Sth.
in advance at the office where it is received, is /nur cmd Mrs. M, P. Sent patterns 29th.
a luiif ctnts for three monthly numbers. Mrs. G. F. Sent pictures for vases November Ist.

Let the names of the subscribers and your own signa- Mrs. L. C. H. Sent pattern 1st.

ture be written so that they can be easily made out. C. L. R. Sent hair ring 3d.
Mrs, H. C, Brunswick, Maine. Madame Demorest's
Pro Top Pantaloons. We
have often referred to ex- Mirror of Fashion is published at 473 Broadway, New
cess of fashions among
Let it be understood
the ladies. York. The number of her establishmeut is published
that every fashion is sopposed to be pretty. The eye monthly in the Lady's Book.
gets accustomed to it, and the departure from it is what Mrs. R G. We cannot answer such questions. Your
is remarked. Occasionally a lady may be seen without family physician is the proper person to mention the
crinoline; people stare and turn round to look at her. inquiry to.
She certainly attracts attention. So with the gentle- Miss D. E. E. Immediately after nuptials have been
men's peg tops the use would be well, but the abuse ia
; solemnized. The waitergives the signal, and the parties
ridiculous. then proceed as you have stated.
10-i godey's lady^s book and magazine.

Miss E. H. A. No gentleman would ask each a ques- Orders, accompanied hy ckecTcs for the proposed expen-
tion. diture, to be addressed to the care of h. A. Godey, Esq.
E. C. B. Sent jewelry 3d. No order will be attended to unless the money i^ first

Mrs. J. B. W. Sent Alicant pattern 4th. received. Neither Vie Editor nor Publisher will be account'
Mrs. A E. B. Sent pattern 4th. able for losses tliat may occur in remitting.
Mrs M. Sent pattern 5th.
A. B. The Publisher of the Lady's Book has no interest in
Mrs. C. W. 0. Sent lace undersleeves, etc., 8th. this department, and knows nothing of the transactions ;

W. M. of Chicag'o Asks us to furni.'jh "a plan for a and whether the person sending the order is or is not a
block of city residences," etc. It will cost bira no more subscriber to the Lady's Book, the Fashion editor does
than it have such a plan designed and as we
will us to ; not know.
are not aware that any other of our subscribers want Instructions to be as minute as ia possible, accompanied
Buch a plan, we must refer him to Mr. Hobbs, and will, by a note and general style of
of the height, complexion,
with ple;isure, see that Mr. Hobbs gets his letter. the person, on which mitch depends in choice. Dress
M. G. E. Gentlemen don't wear expensive jewelry; goods from Evans & Co.'s mourning goods from Besson
;

there is a class of men who do, but they are supposed & Son cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from Brodie's, f>l
;

generally to be of the fancy order. Canal Street, New York bonnets from the most celebrated
;

Miss M. G. Sent worsted lOth. establishments; jewelry from Wriggens & Warden, or
Mrs. L. M. Sent hair oruameuts 10th. Caldwell's, Philadelphia.
C. J. Sent bonnet 10th. When goods are ordered, the fashions that prevail here
Mrs. G. M. Sent wardrobe 10th.
infant's govern the purcliase; therefore, no articles will be taken
Miss R. L. Sent pattern of Red Riding Hood 10th. back. When the goods are sent, the transaction must be
R. M. Sent Chemisse Russe lOlh.
considered final.
Mrs. H H, K. Seat "Titian" llth.
Miss S. N. N. Sent Chemisse Russe llth.
Mrs. M. K
Sent Mirandole llth. DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION-PLATE FOR
Miss R. Learning to write is like learning to draw: JANUARY.
you have only to take a good copy and try to imitate it.
pig_ 1. Dress suitable for a bridesmaid. White silk
You will soon find your writing improved. Avoid nnder-dress, with over-diess of white er.'pp, made with
flourishes. two skirts. The second skirt is quite long, and is fin-
E. H. R. Sartain's and Graham's magazines have ished with scallops bound with white silk, and is ele-
been dead for many years. gantly trimmed with pus's of the crepe arranged in a
Mrs. J. L. E. Sent cigar-case 12th. linked Grecian pattern. The same design forms the
Miss M. H. Sent gloves, net, etc., 12th. bertha on the corsage, also trims the sleeves. The cor-
Mrs. J. B. F. Sent crochet net 12th. sage is made with a deep point both behind and before.
Miss S. M. D. Sent kid gloves 12th. Etruscan ornaments and coiffure of cherries with foliage.
Miss D. R, We know of no remedy for freckles ; and Fig. 2.
Dress of white reps, with five narrow flounces
we advise you not to try any of the advertised nostrums. on the skirt, trimmed with violet velvet. Above this
Mrs. A. V. S Out of time cannot attend to it. trimming are three black thread lace flounces. Corsage
Mrs. H. D. Soap and water is the beet remedy, well pointed both back and froot, and trimmed with lace and
applied. violet velvet trimmings. Sash of violet velvet, embroi-
Anna, New
York. Seam, ribbed, purl, and tnrned dered and fringed. Coiifnre of Parma violets.

stitch, are allterms having the fame meaning. A seam Fig. 3. White satin dress, trimmed elaborately with
stitch is made by bringing the cotton before the needle, groseille velvet and black lace. Bertha and corslet
and instead of putting the needle over the upper cotton trimmed to match the skirt. Coiffure composed of white
it is put under. ostrich plumes and groseille velvet.
Cr, bring the cotton forward, and knit the part of the
Fig. 4. White glace silk, with plain skirt corsage ;

stitch which is next to you. trimmed with folds, and the sleeves one large puff.

Mrs. W. S. T. A mother's feelings should answer Breast knot of green velvet, with bullion tassels. Sash
your question about mourning. of green velvet, with pointed ends, finished with heavy

Miss E. R. N. We shall probably commence paper bullion tassels. Coiffure of green velvet and Solferino
flower making in oar next number. flowers.
Pig_ fl.
Dress suitable for a bridesmaid, composed of
white muslin, with six gauffered flounces on the skirt.
Bertha formed of three gauffered ruffles. Full body and
Jfasl^ions. puff sleeves. Pink sash, with heavy fringed ends tied
behind. Coiflure of rose-bnds, with foliage.
NOTICE TO LADY SUBSCHIBERS.
HEADDRESSES.
Having had frequent applications for the purchase of
jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, the {See description, page IS.)

Editress of Vie Fashion Departinent will hereafter execute Fig. 1. The Coralio Headdress. This
headdress is
commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of formed of a torsade of cerise velvet and a point lace
a small percentage for the time and research required. barbe, with a large how on the forehead, and white
Spring and autumn bonnetR, materials for dresses, jewelry, plumes on the right side.
envelops, hair-work, worsteds, children's wardrobes, man- Fig. 2. The Etdalio.
Net composed of gold coj-d caught
Wllas,and mantelets, will be chosen with a view to econo- with black velvet and gold buttons. Three white plumes
my, as well as taste and boxes or packages furwarded
; are on the left side. Over the head is a mil of black
by express to any part of the country. For the last, velvet, whieh is finished on the right side by a large
di^tinct directions must be given. bow with ends trimmed with gold and lace.
 FASHIONS. 105

DAIST TRAVELLING WINTER HOOD. CHITCHAT UPOX NEW YORK AND PHILADEL-
PHIA FA.SHIONS FOR JANUARY.
(See pUUe printed in colore m front.)
WniLK the month of January brings with it opportu-
Mattriais required toAa ounce and
make odo bood :
nities for using the elegant evening toilets, for which
a half of stEi^'le n-liitotwo oances of a
Berlin wool; our ladies are famous the world over, it none the less
vtrybriyht nhado of Alpine roxe half an ounce of single ; brings mud and mire and stormy days. But notwithstand-
Partridge wool six ekelns of white eewing silk; half
;
ing mud and mire, business must be attended to and ex-
a yard of Alpine rose ribbon for the bow bebiod a ; ercise taken in tlie open air. For these purposes, there is
d'oylcy fiarae, with brans pegs, twelve inches square, nothing ho useful as the Jupe Pompndnur ; and we
and oue four inches wide and twelv inches long. cannot recommend it too highly. It is very easily

This pretty hood, which is so useful for travelling made: Two rows of rings are sewn at regular intervals
wear, or for pvUting on in coming out of a theatre or on the inside of the skirt; through these rings pass
place of public aDiusenietit, is made in the same manner cords, fastened to the bottom of the dress, which come
as the daisy d'oy leys which used lobe so much in vogue. out at the top of the skirt. By these cords the skirt can
The hood has a white and speckled hcMd-piece, bor- be drawn up in graceful folds to any height. With this
dered all ronnd with a bright rose-colored border, with Jupe should be worn-the colored or Balmoral skirts, of
strings of the same. The head-piece is not cut after it is which there is an endless variety. Some are elegantly
removed from the pegs of the frame but the border and ; braided and trimmed with velvet, others are of black
strings have half of the wool cut in the same manner as material, with bands of scarlet cloth pinked on each
the daisy mats, to give it a fluffy, soft appearance. edge and stitched on them. Again we see them alter-
^The wool is wound on a frame, and each square is nately striped with black and white, with a deep Grecian
secured by a cross-stitch in wool. The head-piece con- design embroidered in black. Sometimes they are in bril-
sists of a simple square, the wool being wound crosswise liant colored merinos, with arabesques of black silk or
on the frame, from corner to corner, so that, when cloth. They are also made
of Poplin. But we object to
finished, the diamonds lie in the proper direction. these expensive styles, for a colored petticoat in our
Four rows of white wool must be wound round every eyes, is only suitable forunpleasant weather, and should
other peg, and over this three rows of white sewing not, under any circumstances, take the place of a white
silk the other pegs require two rows of white wool and
; one, with a handsome dress.
two of Partridge wool. Dress skirts are now rarely seen perfectly plain.
When all tbe wool is wound, the squares must he se- They are generally much ornamented, but in excellent
cured with white wool, threaded inalongnetting-ueedle, taste. Soutache or braiding seems to be the order of the
slipping the wool on the wrong side to form a square diiy. We have lately seen at Stewart's some very beau-
underneath or, to explain ourselves better, secuiing
;
tiful imported dresses of Empress cloth, braided or
the squares the straight way of the frame. rather tamboured in a very deep and rich design. Other
When this square is completed the head-piece is styles for misses, with SntUes enbarques to match, were
finished,and the bordermust be commenced on the long, of blue, green, or brown reps with two rows of the
narrow frame. Greek pattern woven on them in black velvet, the vel-
The front border and strings are made in one piece vet about one-eighth of an inch in width, and the designs
and, as the frame is not long enough, it must be accom- complete The same style of robe
for the entire dress.
plished by four separate windings. Take seven skeins was in the mourning department, black and purple
of the rose-colored wool, fold each ekeia into five lengths, velvet on black materials; also other rich designs on
fasten each bkein on to the pegs of the long side, wind- different materials.
ing the wool that is round the opposite
to be continued, At Mnie. Piuchon's, Lord & Taylor's, and other es-
pegs, to keep it secure. To form the squares, loop two tablishments, were drosses with sack or Camailes to
pieces of wool in and out the short way of the frame, aud match, richly braided with fancy braids.
over that three pieces. Dress skirts are worn of a moderate length on the
It will now be seen that the squares are formed, which street, but for a reception, visiting, or evening, they are
must be secured with the same colored wool; and, made exceedingly long. Sleeves generallj- are of the
when this portion of the work is completed, three of the coat style, and dresses are either made with jackets,
threads cut on each side of the stitch, to form a little many of them with box-plaits at the back, or else
tuft, or daisy. trimmed to give the appearance of a jacket in front.
When removed from the frame, the border is finished The vest poHtiUion, btisquine laTicier, and vest Impira-
by the loops on each side, which make a pretty edging trice are all fashionable.
to the strings. Three more lengths of border must be The taste for solid colors seems to prevail, and never
done in the same mannet, until the wool is used up. were such greens, purples, modes, and garnets, as those
Half the quantity of border is sufficient for the hood of this season. Changeable silks are being introduced,
behind. The border must now be sewn on in front, and moire antiques and watered silks are much worn.
holding in tfte caj) a little at the top. to give it a round Merinos like the silks are of the most brilliant dyes
appearance. After it is sewn on behind, a piece of this winter, and as they are a very pretty medium
plaited Partridge wool should be run in between tho dress, and susceptible of much ornamentation, no ward-
stitches on the wrong side, so that th6 hood may be robe is considered complete without one. Indeed there
drawn in to the required size. seems to be a perfect rage for them, and as they hang in
In the colored illustration of this hood, our readers such soft graceful folds, we should prefer them rather
will see that the border is composed of/or windings of than poplins for misses.
wool only. The reason for this is that, if there had Mrs. Ellis, of 8S0 Broadway, contributes some very
been seven rows shown, the character of the work beautiful styles to our chronicle of fashions for this
would not have been so easily seen, on account of its month. A very styMsh dress was a wine-colored iwiiri
minuteness. trimmed at the edge of the skirt with a narrow plaited
106 godey's lady's book and magazine.
flnunce. Above this plaiting were a series of semicircles
or coquilles of black lace, in the ceutre of which were
biiods of black velvet. These coquilles, which were
Citrried quite round the and ascended half way up
skirt,
tlie skirt on the left side, were headed by a narrow
plaited flounce correspondiuf,' with that on the edge of
tlie skirt. The corsage was trimmed en zouave, and the
trimming of lace and velvet was carried under the arms
to the back, where it was finished with a bow and long
ends. Another was of wine-colored silk, with chestnut
leaves of velvet, caught in pairs with a jet ornament
and carried round the skirt and up one side to the waist.
Spanish corsage trimmed to match, and Spanish pocket.
Another dress, quite novel and in excellent taste, was
a silver gray silk, ornamented round the bottom with a
very deep band formed of black and violet ribbons, so
arranged as to form checkeis. On the corsage was a
plastron of the same, and the sleeves with revers were
trimmed to match.
Among the numerous merino dresses, was one of rose
de chine, with velvet oak leaves, chaiu-stitched with
white, running all round the skirt. Another of green,
beautifully braided with thick white silk cord, a brown
braided with gold color. A travelling dress of Humboldt
purple, with Camail to match, both elegantly braided
with fancy black braid.
Black alpacas are being made up with fluted ruffles,
and trimmed with colored velvets and braids. Velvets
are to be had narrow enough for braiding and so up to
a finger in width of all colors; the black with white
edge, however, seems to be preferred for everything.
Plain black velvet ribbons come one-quarter of a yard
wide. Black and white fancy braid is very stylish, and
black mixed with tinsel we see used. Beads worked in
with braiding add much to tlie effect. Short plaid silk
scarfs are very much worn by misses, tied in a large
bow under the chin.Camel-hair scarfs are worn in the
same style. For in-doors, lace and muslin lappets or
scarfs are now very generally worn round the neck, to
the exclusion of collars. They are also tied in a large
bow, and, when well tied, are very stylish. When
made of lace, and arranged with taste, they are very
becoming.
Handkerchiefs are worn very simply ornamented
some have five rows of small spots in black silk all
round, and trimmed with a narrow ruflle, with similar
black spots worked upon it. Others are chain-stitched,
or braided in colors, with a medallion and iuitials on
one side, the handkerchiefs being generally rouud. The
more elegant are trimmed with insertions and flutinga
of Valenciennes.
much worn, and as it is rather expensive
Sashes are
tn have them to match every dress, many are made of
black silk, with either a ruche all round, or else braided
and the ends fringed. The most elegant aie of black
thread lace, and add much to the style of a dress.
The accepted style of bonnet is very high, rather
square on top, and straight, shallow sides. For misses
the tabs are generally very small. The trimming is
placed on top, and consists of plumes or fans, fold, or
flutings of velvet.
We noticed at Miss MoConnel's, of Clinton Place, New
York, an exquisite bonnet of Humboldt purple velvet,
with the whole of the front covered with the green
blossoms of the American linden. We should remark,
Humboldt purple has the peculiarity
enpnsfiant, that the
of looking well in the evening.Another of the same
shade was trimmed with velvet flowers to match, and
black lace. "We have not space to describe the many
beautiful bonnets we saw at this establishment ; hutwe
were particularly attracted by a new veil styled Laq?
de dentelle. They are suitable for round hats as well as
bonnets, and, we have been told, have been adopted by
the Empress, and will be much patronized this winter.
They are made in difl'erent sorts of lace, rather oval in
shape, and held in their place by a black velvet, or rib-
bon of a similar color as the bonnet, which is run
through a beading, and tied with bow and ends just
over the mouth. The veil is then trimmed with a lace
about two inches in width.
Brodie's cloaks are as usual very stylish and of great
variety in shape and trimming. A number of the rich
velvet cloaks are long sacks without trimming, except
on the revers of the sleeve, on which there is a coquille
of lace. Others are rounding, with several seams from
the shoulders to the waist, causing them to hang very
gracefully. They have armholes, but no sleeves, and
are trimmed with jet passementerie running up in pyra-
mids. Some have a large plait in the centre of the back,
and are ornamented with rich crochet medallions, and
fastened at the throat with crocLet ornaments.
Ball cloaks are now being made of exceedingly rich
and haudsome material, and really form part of the
evening toilet. Some are of white silk, bordered with
bands of black and gold, others spotted with gold. New
designs appear daily in the show-rooms. At Mme. Pin-
chon's we noticed a number of cloaks made of blue cloth,
and velvety, richly braided or trimmed with
thick, soft,
passementerie. Others were darker, almost a blue black.
At other establishments we have seen sacks made up
of army blue cloth, and trimmed with gilt braid and
buttons; but these are entirely too prononci for the
street, and the style will not be adopted by ladies of
good taste.
We were shown some very elegant dresses, just fin-
ished by Mme. Demovest, 473 Broadway. One was a
Russian leather colored tafieta, the skirt trimmed with
five bands of black velvet, edged on both sides with
quilling of the same tafteta, and finished with black
lace. The body was open and trimmed round over the
shoulders with three rows of the velvet and plaiting,
the ceutre band being the widest, which was also the
case on the skirt. The bands ended in the girdle, which
had broad, long ends, fastened without a bow.
An evening dress we admired for its novel and appro-
priate use of crt'pe as the trimming. This was a mauve
silk, trimmed with three rows of crepe ruches in three
shades, the inner one the darkest, and the outer one
I
lighter than the dress. Low body, with Marie Antoi-
nette fichu, trimmed to correspond, and terminating in
long ends behind. Another silk of Mexican blue had
three fluted cripe flounces, the same shade as the diess,
and edged with black lace.
A very beautiful carriage dress was a fine poplin, in
shaded maize color and black, with five undu-
tints of
lating black stripes. This dress had a hemmed flounce
of changeable silk, the same shade as the foundation
color of the dress. Above this was an application of
guipure four inches wide. The body was trimmed en
Zouave, and the sleeve shaped at the elbow with trim-
mings of guipure lace and flutings.
One of the latest novelties is the Spanish pocket, a
very pretty and dressy little aff'air. It is worn on the
outside of the dress, and is very like a Zouave pouch.
It is suitable both for ladies and misses, and, we think,
will be a favorite this winter. Fashion.
M
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 LATEST FASHION.

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Dress of Parma violet silk, trimmed with ruffles of a lighter shade, also black velvet ribbon

braiding.
122
 THE BARCELONA.
[From the eMalilishmeot of i~. nKoniE, /il (an:!! Slrpcl, Now York Prawn liy L. T Voinr, from trtnal
anicles of costume.]

Tins the most favored style of p.Trdessns is dr.nwn from ,1 bl.nck clotli.
bp.Tutifiil v.iriety of
It
IS laid in two fl.itroinnipncing at the neck at the back and th.-n fill free before thev
plait.*,
reach the <lepth of the waist. The sleeves are arranged to correspond. Macaroons
are employed
as ornaments upon the faces of the plaits, and may also adorn the bottom
of the skirt.
10* 123
 ---^i^J

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124
 FASHIONABLE DRESSES.

Fie. 1. Purple reps dress. The skirt is trimmed in palms put on bias, and formed of chicori
ruches of black silk. Each palm is edged with guipure lace, put on with a little fulness. The
sleeves are trimmed to match.

Fig. 2. Dress for a yonng lady, made of Magenta and black Britannia. Tlie skirt is trimmed
with six flounces, edged with black velvet, and put on in waves with a \eTj little fulness. These
flonnces are cut separately for each breadth, and put on so that the end of one flounce covers the
beginning of the nest. Plain corsage, and sleeves trimmed to match the skirt.

125
 EUBBOIOEET.

@ >iv ytv
^^^^^S:^*^^!^^^^^:?'^^^^^.^:?^

A NEW VELVET COIFFURE.

Fig. 1.

Fig. 1 rppresents this tieantiful ami siranlH lieafldress complete.

Fig. 2 is tlie fdundatioii of it.

Fig. 3 shows how the velvet should be plaited, and by matching the numliers on Figs. 2 and I

the coiffure will be arranged as in the complete plate.

The diadera plait is of three strands of velvet.
126
Fig. 2,

Fig 3.
 FANCY HEADDRESS.

Formed of rosettes of very narrow ribbon, and loops of wide ribbon.

3
128
 LADY'S CARD-CASE,
IS GOLD TUBEAO AND STKKL IIEAIIS OK EID.

{See descri/ilion, Work Department.)

CROCHET MITFF.
(^See description^ ^\'vrk Dejiartment.)

129
 BRAIDING PATTEBIT.

GENTLEMAN'S BEACES IN SILK EMBROIDERY.

{See description., Work department.)
 BRAIDING PATTERN.
|aat<j|}j^.j<PJlgng
^^ ^^
igW^i

BRAIDED SHOE FOR A CHILD.

VOL. LXTI. 11 131

 BRAIDING PATTERN.

BRAIDING PATTERN FOR A LOUNGING OE SMOKING CAP.

ar>2
 BEAIDING PATTERN.

SS^aC^S
BRAIDED WATCH-CASE.

133
134
 GODEY'S
f iibp 00li imij Ipaga^int
PHILADELnilA, FEBRUARY, 18G3.

A LADY'S GLANCE AT THE LONDON INTEENATIONAL

EXHIBITION.
SHAWLS AND MIXED FABRICS. when they became more generally familiar to
As in the earlier ages men were accustomed the through the periodical sales of pro-
/lile

to turu tlieir gaze towards the eastern quarter hibited goods by the East India Company as
of the globe as the source of civilization and early as the year 1750. That the most elabo-
the birth-place of the fine arts, so even in the rate specimens of the article should generally

middle of the nineteenth century, in one branch find their destination in the families of the
at least of productive industry, its prestige Court of Directors is not very surprising, more
remains unquestioned. Notwithstanding the especially as the possession of one or two shawls
adaptive genius of the Western World, and the of the kind was sufficient to constitute a mark
wonders wrought by its machinery, the Indian of distinction for the possessor.

shawl still remains, par excellence, in the eyes
of the initiated, the shawl of tlie civilized
world.
For how large a portion of this distinction it
may be indebted to the difficulty of its attain-
ment we are hardly prepared to explain. Nor,
unless the limitation of caste be removed which
assigns peculiar work to distinct native
its
tribes, is the question likely to be speedily
solved, as the manufacture of a single shawl of
quality is s.aid to absorb the labor of years.
liigli
Thus, for some time, at least, the demand is
likely to exceed the supply, securing for it all
the benefit of a mercantile protection, not-
withstanding our national boast of universal
free trade. Meanwhile, tlie increased facilities
atforded by commerce for the acquisition of the
raw material, the successful naturalization of
the Thibet goat iu Europe, with the advantages
of skilled labor and an ever-improving machin-
ery, present formidable obstacles to the long
continuance of its hitherto unchallenged su-
premacy.
That the Indian shawl has been fully appre-
ciated since its first introduction to this country
is abundantly evident, from the period when
scattered examples found their way through
tlio|fccdiuiu of individual enterprise to the time
11*
Within thirty years of their introduction as
merchandise by the India House,
articles of
we find them in the list of goods imported
through the ordinary channel of the Custom
House, but at a duty of nearly thirty per cent.,
which was subsequently reduced through si.K
successive stages to the present merely nominal
impost, just sufficient to secure the registry of
their number and value.
lUniay, perhaps, be as well to remind onr
readers, previous to their visit to the Indian
section of the International Exhibition, that the
most specimens of shawls, appealing
brilliant
to the eye as blazing with gold and silver, are
by no means the most valuable nor those most
eagerly coveted by the initiated. Tlie highest
class of Indian shawls are those of more sober
pretensions, exclusively loom-made, and may
be briefly described as of two particular classes,
with, of course, many subdivisions.
The most distinguished are the veritable
cashmere, where the pattern (as in llonitou
lace) is first made, the groundwoik being sub-
sequently filled in in the same loom, and not
attached by any needle or similar instrument,
although the extreme outer border is usually
so joined,and consists of small squares, em-
bodying every shade of color used in the fabric.
135
136 GODET S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

The value of a shawl depends on its quality
even more than its pattern. Each fleece of
the cashmere goat alTords about eight ounces
of the finest wool, which has to be separated
hair by hair. It takes a native rather more
than a week to disentangle a single ounce
leaving a second, third, fourth, and even a fifth
quality, each having its assigned place, though
never mingling in the same shawl. Such minute
tion may be anticipated, and evidence of such
advance has already presented itself in a most
gorgeous specimen wrought in gold on a ground-
work of four colors. The favorite design is in
this case alternately reversed, by which means
a circular ornament is achieved. Among the
more brilliant shawls a black and gold applique
from Delhi, priced at 25 guineas, appears to be
remarkably cheap for its quality whilst a ;

subdivisions render great experience necessary black cashmere cloth embroidered in scarlet
to decide on the relative value of any individual and gold, at 18 guineas, is scarcely less attrac-
specimen, irrespective of the taste and extent tive. Of the silk and silver kingcobs many, in
wherewith it is ornamented.
of the pattern stripes resembling gold and silver ribbons on a
The second of the two classes to which we dark groundwork, are very effective. Among
have above alluded is also made of the genuine the lighter scarfs, entitled "doopatta," or
Pashum cloth, woven in the loom, of a plain ornamented net, an example bearing a resem-
color and in a single piece : the object is to ob- blance to scale-armor in silver, with a gemlike
tain on this ground, through the medium of ornament on each scale, seems worthy the at-
needlework, an eflect similar to that of the more tention of our home manufacturers. One in
elaborate specimens. This is wonderfully man- "dhanoe," or faded with gold em-
leaf-color,
aged by a peculiar kind of applique, as yet broidery, is, from the contrast of tints, exceed-
without an English name, of so fine and minute ingly effective, and a cinnamon-brown, with
a character as to deceive any but the most silver, is hardly less striking. There are many
curious observer, the surface presenting no others, among which may be particularized
perceptible inequality from the groundwork. samples of the renowned embroideries of Scinde,
A glance, however, at the reverse side reveals and the filmy gold muslins of Dacca but over ;

the distinction, but so close is the imitation, these we will not linger, as they scarcely seem
that it ranks far more frequently as the genuine to come legitimately within the scope of our
cashmere than is supposed. subject.
The indispensable necessity of the shawl as Great as may be the value and reputation
an article of wearing apparel to well-dressed of Oriental shawls, it is in the French depart-
natives of India, Persia, and parts of Turkey, ment that ladies will instinctively seek for
necessarily absorbs so large a proportion of the evidence of tliat progress in design and execu-
genuine article that few, comparatively speak- tion so noticeable in other branches of industrial
ing, remain for exportation, and of them the production, and, therefore, reasonably to he
lion's share is our own country,
secured for looked for in the one in question. We may
many being re-exported to the Continent and not now stop to define that particular element
to America, where the demand is even greater in the taste and character of a Frenchwoman
than with ourselves. The most elaborate speci- which secures her unwavering favor for this
mens of each kind areto be found in the present form of outdoor drapery, and renders the pos-
exhibition. Among the contributions of the session of a really good and varied assortment
Indian Government, to which a separate case the object of her ardent ambition. SutSce it
has been assigned, we would direct the especial for tis to extol the great perfection which, under
attention of our readers to one representing a the influence of such incentives, has been
pillar formed of clusters of pine, as remarkable attained by French manufacturers, whose
for its beauty, although there is another said triumphs, by the way, will probably be more
on unquestionable authority to bear away the than in their
liighly estimated in this country
palm. For the almost exclusive use of the pine own. The enthusiasm for Indian cashmeres,
as a form of decoration, with its various modi- which is undoubtedly far more genuine and
fications, we are, i- all probability, indebted to universal in France than among ourselves,
'
^almost religious veneration attached by the leads to a certain disregard of all imitations,
iiatit'es to the "surfeish," or egret, of the Ori- however beautiful. Ladies of very moderate
ental turban, and, as the same pattern is adopted means and position will strain every nerve to
by successive generations, little scope forvariety obtain the more expensive adornment, should
has hitherto been afforded ; more
but, with the it not have constituted a feature of the corbeille

extensive demand consequent upon the opening dc jtuiriuffe ; but, happily, the absolute necessity
up of remote provinces, a wider range of inven- of such a possession for a married womip is
 A LADY S GLAKCE AT THE IXTERX ATION AL KXIIIBTTIOX. 137

alinitted by ruasoiiable husbands and fathers, Birds of Paradise and other gay-plumaged
and its attainment seconded Ijv tlieui almost as creatures figure also occasionally on shawls of
a point of honor. This being tlie ease even a high class, but such designs are more re-
among the middle classes of society, tliose beau- markable for brilliancy and novelty tlian for
tiful cnrlnmives J-'ran^tiis which amply gratify real artistic beauty. No such exce)ition can
our feminine ambition are obliged at home to be taken to a superb specimen manufactured
descend a grade lower before they meet with by the well-known house of Ducl.e, and appro-
perfect ajipreciation, and become in turn ob- priately designated the Albion cashuieie. It is

jects of aspiration or self-gratulation, as the a perfect triumph of elaborate simplicity, and

case may be. adapted to meet the requirements of a really
The origin of this national predilection for refined taste. Equally attractive is one ex-
shawls has been traced to the close of the last hibited by Messrs. Allison, bearing a figured
century, when a few Oriental specimens were stripe on a black ground modest in preten-;

imported, as it were, by accident from Egypt, sion, but very elegant. A charming example
and quickly found favor in the eyes of repub- from the looms of M. Lair deserves especial
lican beauties. The ever-increasing demand, notice and there are, indeed, many others
;

which was sparingly supplied through liritish which willfully repay careful inspection, though
agency, soon suggested to private enterprise scarcely adapted for minute description. A
the idea of an imitative manufacture. The claim to distinction has been put forth by
enormous expense of setting up a loom for this one manufacturer, M. BiStry, to which we al-

purpose, whicli in 1802 amounted to UO,OuOf.,
is said to have concentrated the attention of
Jacquard on the invention of a process for
working intricate designs with greater facility
and the perfect success of his eflorts converted
a curious experiment into one of the most pro-
ductive and honorable of the industrial re-
sources of France. We find that in 1819 very
excellent shawls were produced from real cash-
mere wool, imported of course, but prepared at
liome, as at present. A great improvement
was effected about thirty years since by the
lude r.ither as giving an idea of the importance
attached to details by shawl buyers and sellers
than because his invention, designated by the
; author as "a real and admirable progress,"
seems to us worthy of such exalted pretensions.
It appears that it has been the practice to at-
tach to the finest Indian shawls a mignonette
pattern, designed and embroidered in France.
M. Bifitry has just discovered a means of pro-
ducing this order of merit in the French shawls,
woven in with the original substance, and con-
sequently immovable for this discovery he
;

introduction of .a new power into the loom, the has obtained a patent.
effects of whicA are precisely similar to those Although the reputation of England as a
of the simple yet laborious processes employed shawl-weaving country has not hitherto ap-
in the East. We are inf<irmed that thirty or proached that established by French manufac-
forty men would there be occupied many turers, it is undoubtedly true that they acted
mouths in the construction of a shawl, of which as pioneers in the enterprise of imitating the
an exquisite imitation can, thanks to this in- productions of the East. In 1784 Alderman
vention, called sponline, be woven in less time Watson and Mr. Barrow, of Norwich, achieved
by the intelligent industry of one person. the first shawl of that character ever made in
As a feature of the specimens contributed to Europe. The process was too slow and unpro-
the exhibition by French manufacturers, we fitable to be repeated but some specimens
;

are gratified to notice a less servile adhesion to
the Indian style of ornament than was apparent
in liyol. Many beautiful and ingenious modi-
Scations of the accredited type are presented to
our view, retaining just enough of the Oriental
character to indicate the source in which they
originated. We may point, for instance, to a
Ehawl representing an open tent, the looped
curtains of which reveal very successfully by
their massive folds the richness and quality of
the fabric. In the foreground two emblematical
green dragons appear to be keeping watch and
ward before the entrance of the pavilion, which
rises from a wilderness of tropical foliage.
were produced soon afterwards, of mixed silk
and worsted, the pattern being embroidered by
hand. No particular advance was m.ide until
the year 1805, which witnessed the completion
of the first shawl wholly fashioned in the loom.
The manufacture was taken up about thee same
time in Edinburgh, where it was afterw^ rwiB
abaudoued, and in Paisley, then snll'ering 1
from the decline in the muslin trade,
it took root, and that town, with its vicinity,
is known to be the seat of production for
well
all shawls of the Indian style, the higher classes
consisting of real cashmere wool, and being
afforded in great beauty at comparatively low
138 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

prices. The recent removal of the paper duty brilliancy of color indeed, they are in all re-
;

will, we should hope, give an impetus to the spects worthy the established reputation of
trade, as the cost of the card-board foraJacquard the iirra, and as much may be said for those of
loom forms a very important element iu the Kerr, Scott, & Kiluer. The assortment of warm,
expense of production. As regards quality, thick sliawls for winter use is remarkably ex-
the present exhibition affords several specimens cellent and varied. It is a department in which
of Britisli design and workmanship which will they are, of course, iiurivalled. The prevailing
challenge the admiration of'the most fastidious fashion for the coining season is evidently
taste. Among these is a shawl which appears supposed to tend towards colors of a sober cast,
under the auspices of Messrs. Lock & Co., con- for in cases where the material used is some
sisting of a striped pattern of remarkable va- animal fibre, the natural shade is closely imi-
riety, with a light design intersecting it from tated, or it is even manufactured undyed, differ-
corner to corner, as if by the suggestion of some ent shades being supplied from various portions
happy afterthought. In one, exhibited by of the animal's body. Tlje style of make is

Spiers & Co., Paisley, the ornamentation as- furlike, as may be inferred from the substances
sumes the form of an elongated arch of "inter- used. In the case of Mr. Bliss, of Chipping
woven pines. Its attractions are great, but not
inferior are those of similar articles from the
Norton, shawls may be seen woven from the hair
of the beaver, hare, fox, rabbit, llama, alpaca,
I
looms of Forbes and Hutcheson. Thibet goat, and camel. Thus it would seem
Of Norwich silk and mixed shawls, Messrs. that every quarter of the globe has furnished
Clabburn & Crisp are tlie most extensive exhi- its especial tribute for our benefit, and inge-
bitors. Their productions are remarkable for nuity has turned all of them to good account.

THE TURRETS OF THE STONE HOUSE.

BY V K
1 I MA F . TO WNSEND
" Hate you been over the house. Miss Mar- it 's some folks' luck to be born with silver
garet?" inquired Mrs. Stebbins, a little, plea- spoons in their mouths."
pant-faced, vivacious woman, as she stopped a " And some have the faculty of keeping the
moment in the sitting-room to adjust her shawl silver spoons, and some don't seem to." This
and receive the blue china bowl which she had general statement had a particular application
brought over filled with jelly for Mrs. Phillips, in Margaret's mind, and this was the reason
who was an invalid. that there was a touch of bitterness or
little

The mound of jelly stood on the table, on a pain in her voice, which only a very keeu ob-
small cut-glass dish of an antique pattern, and server would have detected.
as the sunlight poured its golden rain upon the "That's a fact." Mrs. Stebbins was of the
"quaking tumulus," it looked like an immense acquiescent, approbative type. "But" slip-
ruby. ping at once from general theories to specific
"No, Mrs. Stebbins; I haven't seen the facts

" it 's too late now to seethe inside of the
house at all." The tones were sweet and dis- house, for the family are expected next week,
tinct that answered. Hearing them, you would and they 've got a train of servants puttin'
not need to see Margaret Phillips to know that things to rights."
she was a lady, so far as cultivation of mind " were otherwise, I haven't the time
If it

and graciousness of manner make one this. to get over there,"answered Margaret, with a
" Oh, you don't know what you 've missed," lack of enthusiasm which even Mrs. Stebbins
added Mrs. Stebbins, in her good-natured, sym- must have perceived. "You were very kind,
pathetic way. "It's a perfect palace. John Mrs. Stebbins, to remember mother so often ;

says it 's built after the style of some foreign no- I wish you knew how she will enjoy your jelly."
Weman's. There 's no end to the money that it " La don't speak of that.
I I thought it

cost. I can't attempt to describe it, but there 's might an egg or some chicken
set well with
the library openin' on the lawn, oak all of ;
broth. My
grandmother Parsons used to say,
and the parlors, with the green and gold and : and she was a reg'lar hand at nussin', that

the dinin'-room well, there 's no tellin' but I ; tliere was everything in knnwin' how to coax
told John after I got home that my house along a weak stomach it did more than the;

doctor a good many times."

 THE TURRETS OF THE STOXE HOUSE.
" I have no donbt of it, Mrs. Stebbins
I really believe the nice little dainties you 've
i^t'ut mother for the last month have done more
fiir her than allher medicine has."
The little wom.in's faded face flushed with
cenuine pleasure. "I don't feel as thongh
I 'd done auythiug at .ill, Miss Margaret only
jest to show that I 'd pot the will."
" I do so much, Mrs. Stebbins, that I 'ra
emboldened now to ask you to do something
fi)r me. Isn't your husband ou the school
committee this year ?"
" Yes. He tried to get out of it, but they
would put him in."
" If he lias no other teacher engaged, I shall
be very glad to obtain the situation this year."
"Miss Margaret!" Mrs. Stebbins had arisen
from her chair, but she sat down again, and
there was no need she should express her as-
tonishment at the young lady's proposition;
her tones had done this more efl'ectually than
any words could.
"You are surprised?" said Margaret Phil-
lips, looking her neighbor in the face with a
brave smile, and one that had yet a little flick-
ering pain in it.
" Well, yes I am quite taken aback," fal-
; weakness, amid diligent work and petty caros,
tered the small, dark woman.
" Of course, Mrs. Stebbins, this step is not,
underesistingcircumstances, a matter of choice,
but one of necessity. We are poor people now,
mamma and I, whatever we were once and I ; his dealings with all men, and respected and
must look the matter boldly in the face, as I
have done many other things, and be a it will
great relief to my present necessity
can if
obtain the situation of which I have spoken."
" I 'U speak to John this very day," answered
Mrs. Stebbins. "But how in the world can
you take so much on yourself, with the care of
your sick mother ?"
"Mrs. Stebbins," answered Margaret Phil-
lips, with a solemn faith on her fair young
f.ice, "Grod h.as given me strength to bear
many burdens that I did not once think I could
carry. I do not believe He will fail me in this
one."
Mrs. Stebbins made no further protest. That
look of Margaret's silenced her still the man- ;
ner in which she took the girl's hand, and
jiressed it as they parted, showed that she was
both appreciative and sympathetic.
Margaret Phillips went up staii-s to her own
room, and s.at down by the window, and some-
how her gaze turned to the eastward, where,
about three-quarters of a mile off, a couple
of gray stone turrets showed picturesquely
through the thick foliage. Somehow the sight
139
; and did not seem to attract Margaret Phillips.The
shadow of pain which had hovered over her face
seemed to settle deeper there. Yet it was a
morning in the late M,ay, full of praise and
beauty. The white, fleecy mists hung wide on
the distant mountains, the air was perfumed
; with all sweet smells of young grass and blos-
soming fruit trees, the birds brimmed the
morning with songs, and through the branches
filtered like golden wine the sunshine of the
spring.
Everything was glad, everything but Marga-
ret Phillips.Yet I would not have you sup-
pose for one moment that she was a morbid or
sentimental character, that she could not arise
out of her own private limitations and losses
and be courageous and of " good cheer, " know-
ing that whatsoever burdens and sorrows were
appointed her here, she still had the one love
to give thanks for, to rejoice in, and that sooner
or later, if she trusted it, all sorrow and pain
should be lost in the rest and the joy which
God promises to those who love him. And
this Margaret Phillips believed, not in occa-
sional bursts of enthusiasm or exalted senti-
ment, but in her daily living, in struggle and
and sometimes amid bitter struggles.
A very few words will give you a few neces-
sary glimpses into her past life. Her father
had been a man, honorable to the core in
rich
beloved wherever he was known.
But, during the latter part of his life, he had
I been induced, through the influence of his
partner, to embark in some foreign speculations
which had proved totally ruinous through the
weakness and dishonesty of various parties.
A fever, the consequence of exposure and
anxiety, closed his life before it reached its
fiftieth year.Margaret was the only and dearly
beloved child of her parents. Her youth had
been- sheltered by watchful tenderness from
every sorrow. Her mother, a woman of a gentle
mimosa nature, had been an invalid for years ;
and the young girl found herself suddenly face
to face with a world of which she had known
nothing except the bright side.
Then the soul of Margaret Phillips awoke
withiu her. She set herself diligently and
bravely to meet these altered circumstancea as
soon as the first shock of grief for her father's
death was over. The old, luxurious home was
given up, the furniture sold, and, through the
influence of friends, Margaret entered a small,
pleasant cottage in Wolmrn for both mother
;
and daughter shrank from the thought of life
no GODEY S LADY S BOOK AXD MAGAZINE.

in the city,where the old, harrowing associa- to keep her thoughts and observation strained
tions would be constantly revived. And for to their utmost tension.
the next two years Margaret devoted herself to She looked too fair and fragile amid those
her mother's comfort, and the supervision of rude boys and girls, and seemed more out of
their small household ; for they kept hut one place than she actually was, for Margaret had
domestic. in her nature some moral force which com-
Mrs. Phillips rallied a good deal in the fine manded respect, and to a large degree obedi-
country air during the first year of her residence ence. And she had various soils in which to
in Woburn ; but the second, her health sank sow her seed, and some of it took root there,
again in consequence of a severe cold she took and gave promise of a stronger, better manhood,
in some exposure during the late autumn ; and a sweeter and more gracious womanhood.
Margaret Pliillips wag kept in fluctuations of Tlie sehoolhouse was situated less than a
hope and fear for her mother's life during the quarter of a mile from the new stone house,
whole winter. which was the pride .and wonder of all Woburn,
With the return of the spring, Mrs. Phillips and as Margaret went up every morning through
began slowly to recuperate but now another ; the green country lane to her school, the gray
dread haunted the mother and daughter by turrets of the stately house looked afar through

night and by day their slender means were the green trees upon her, with the sunlight
nearly exhausted, and afar ofl' they saw the touching them into a new splendor.
"wolf" approaching their door. Somehow the sight of those turrets always
Margaret was not a gii'l to sit down, and fold hurt Margaret. If you had watched her nar-
her hands in weak, unavailing tears and lamen- rowly, and seen the sweet light widening up
tations at this crisis. Not but the anxiety, into her dark eyes, and about her lips, as she
and doubt, and ultimate decision cost her listened to the birds filling the air with their
much pain and many sleepless hours. But sprays of song, or looked off where, through
she reached it at last. the dark plush of meadow grass, the summer
And, not to prolong this subject, the next winds went searching to and fro, you would
week Mr. Stebbins called on Margaret, had a have witnessed a sudden shadow sweep over
long interview with the young lady, which her face as the gray turrets rose iu sight, a
resulted in another visit, several evenings later, shadow that blurred all the brightness, and
when Mr. Stebbins was accompanied by two was almost like pain.
other members of the committee, and after an That stone house was Margaret's vulnerable
exauiiiiatiou, which was merely nominal, she point all summer. She was no faultless heroine
was installed teacher of the district school for (this lady of wliom I write), dear reader. She
that summer. would have opened her brown eyes wide at the
It was a little, low, long red building with thought of being one biit she was a woman,
;

white shutters, on the side of the road where
there were no trees, and the sun poured down
with a sickening glare during the heats of the
sammer, and within it wei'e gathered more than
forty boys and girls
many of them coarse,
unruly, ill-bred.
was hard work for Margaret hard for
It
mind and body; yet she set herself to do it,
young, brave, lovely, struggling with herself,
and .all the hard realities of her lot struggling
for faith, duty, charity
sometimes defeated,
sometimes victorious. And this thought of the
"great stone house" was the thorn in Marga-
ret's side she tried to put it away, but it came
; M.
;
back and haunted her day by day. She thought
the hot, weary noon as she sat drooping
f
of it in

and summoned all her moral forces to the work, before her desk in the hour of intermission;
and did it well, as any work that is worth doing the large, cool, luxurious rooms would rise

at all ought be done.

to and shine before her; she would see the soft,
Yet I think any one with fine intentions mossy carpets sprinkled with leaves and blos-
and generous sympathies would have looked soms she would see rare pictures and statuary
;

sad, could they have glanced into the little scattered along the walls, and gleaming white
bare, red sehoolhouse that summer, and seen in the corners, feeding with beauty the eyes

the gentle, delicate, sweet-faced young teacher which beheld and rejoiced in them she would ;

in her high chair, behind her brown desk, sur- hear the sudden rush, and the sweet thrill, and
rounded by those half grown boys and girls, quiver of music that drew the quick tears to
many of them so bent on the promotion of mis- her eyes and then she would see the lofty bal-
;

chipf, and petty annoyance, and disturbances conies where the June roses and honeysuckles
tliat iu order to control them it was necessary made heats of bloom about the pillars, and
 THE TURRETS OF THE STOXE HOUSE. 141

where in the cool moonlight of the summer "Margaret ! Margaret !" whispered softly the
evenings they told her tlie guests wandered up conscience of the girl, and heeding the admoni-

and down and then jets of laugliter would

; tion, she sat down and took counsel with her-
and stately gentlemen
suddeiilv thrill the air; self.

and fair hulies would roam up and down the 'After all, isn't it u-rong," whispered the
beautiful grounds, where tlie fountains threw still inner voice, "for you to be disturbed in this
up tlieir white embroidery of waters, or where way, and to let the sight of those turrets darken
the deep, green shrubberies made darkness always over your sky ? Doesn't it prove some
and stillness or by the lake, where the stately
; petty envy or bitterness in your own nature,
swans went dreaming up and down, and the which it is your duty to struggle with and
waterlilies, like great, white pearls, were scat- overcome ? 1 know those people are rich, and
tered lavish on its bosom. you are poor but you, at least, are wise and
;

Margaret knew nothing of the inmates of the true enough to the best part of yourself not to
"stoue house," except that they were people think that cau make any real difference be-
of immense fortune, and, as their home indi- twixt you and them and see here aren't you
; :

cated, of rare taste. She had gathered, too, only indulging this unhappy morbid state of
from the various gossip of the villagers, that feeling by avoiding that stone house as care-

the family was not large a couple of sons and fully as you do ? Isn't it your duty now to
daughters. They had travelled for several walk bravely over there and look it squarely in
and the gill fancied,
years in foreign lands; the face and the more disagreeable the duty,
;

without knowing, that they were haughty,
purse-proud people.
The only possible opportunity she could have
had of meeting the family was at the village
church, which they occasionally attended, but,
as they most frequently drove to service in the
the plainer the necessity for performing it, and
overcoming once and forever the wrong, un-
healthful feeling which has taken hold of you?"
And Margaret Phillips was of the number of
those who; a duty set plain before them, would
go to prison or the stake to do it a woman ;

city ten miles distant, it did not happen that who made 1 must, not / will, the great ruling
Margaret met any of the residents of the stone force of her life. And so Margaret Phillips
liouse. But in her hours of weakness and covenanted with herself that very evening to
weariness, the young teacher thought of these walk over to the stone house, and look her
people, dwelling in luxury, surrounded by all "Mordecai" in the face, and then she went
which could make the outward life beautiful down help prepare her mother's sup-
st.airs to

and happy, and her heart rebelled against her per. Poor Margaret they kept but one servant,
!

own hard, toiling, uncongenial lot.
And so it happened one day, after the heats
of the summer had passed and the. earth was
still and serene, and the ripeness of September
flooded the year's pulses with wine, that Mar-
garet Phillips sat at her chamber window
.asshe had sat in the brave life, and gladness of
and she was a little girl.
The sun was just behind the hills, leaving
the sky once more for its nightly blossoming of
stars,when Margaret closed her little cottage
gate, and took the old turnpike road which
just intersected the one that led to the stone bouse.
It was a pleasant walk, and the soft light and

the Juue which would never come back any the throbbing hum of the insects soothed her,
more. Itw.tsoneeveningalterschool, and weary and, walking with her own thoughts, she was
with her day's work, she had tossed aside her greatly startled when, turning an abrnpl an-
bonnet and shawl, and sat down to the window gle in the road, she came suddenly upon the
to refresh herself with the cool air, which was lionse. There it stood before her iu its strength
spiced with sweet fern, and sassafras, and pine and amid green shrubberies and
stateliness,
from the woods on her right hand. Tlie young beautiful grounds, which made a picture won-
teacher looked out, and drank in the sweet derful for loveliness all about it, itself the cen-
refreshment of air, and earth, and sky, with a tral beauty and grace of the whole.
face th.it grew peaceful as she gazed, until It seemed to Margaret Phillips, as she gazed
suddenly her roaming gaze fell upon the gray on the Gothic pile, that she had been suddenly
turrets of the stone house betwixt the trees. enchanted into some foreign country. She
Margaret closed her eyes. " I believe that could hardly believe that that great, massive
house is the Mordecai in the gate of my life," palace of stone rose in its simple, grand archi-
she said to herself in a tone made up of annoy- tecture on the homely, everyday soil of Wo-
ance and self-reproach. " It haunts me every- burn, on the very land which the farmers
where, and spoils all my landscapes. I heartily sowed every autumn and ploughed every
wish it could buru to the ground."
142 GODEY'S lady's BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

spring. It seemed to the girl's fine poetic matters that at the latter's death the widow
instincts altliough be it liere uniierstood tliat and the daughter had been left penniless and ;

Margaret Pliillips had never written a poem intimate as the families of the partners had
since slie was a school-girl tliat tiiat stone pa- previously been, Mrs. Lathrop and her daugh-
lace belonged to the medifeval ages, that old ters had entirely neglected Margaret and her
legends and old songs should cluster thick about mother after the change in the latter's circum-
it, that brave men's deeds and beautiful women's stances. The Lathrops were living in splendor
love and grace should have hallowed it ; and now on their ill-gotten gains and all this surged ;

musing on all these things, and entirely uncon- and stormed through Margaret's soul as she
scious of herself, she strayed through the broad gazed on them and thought of her delicate
iron gate, and through the thick hedges of mother struggling with ill health and poverty
shrubbery, and smiled up to the frowning tur- in their lonely cottage, and of her own hard,
rets, her own smile, brave, glad, victorious. daily toilsome life, and of him whose strong
They could not frighten her any more their ; arm and loving heart would have shielded tliem
power was gone she had conquered them
; ! from all this injustice and suffering. She stood
And so Margaret Phillips, following the ser- still, with her pale face bent sternly on the

pentine path, came into the vicinity of the veranda, almost wondering that some voice
house. The quietuess wooed her on, for, al- from heaven did not ci'y out against those peo-
though the doors were open, there was no sight ple for the wrong which they and theirs had
or sound of human life about the dwelling. And done her.
so the girl approached the veranda on the And while the girl stood there a group of
right side of the house, and, leaning against a gentlemen and ladies turned suddenly toward
large horse-chestnut tree, stoodstill and drank that side of the veranda nearest her, and started
iix with hungry eyes the scene before her. as they all caught sight of the still figure under
Suddenly there came the sound of light voices the chestnut tree.
and rapid steps to her ear, and a moment later "Who is that lady?" Margaret heard the
a company of gentlemen and ladies poured surprised question from more than one voice.
through the wide doors and scattered up and " Ellen, she is a lady you had best go out
;

down the great veranda, some of the latter and her our hospitality," said one of
proffer
playfull}' flattering over the mosaic pavement. the young gentlemen to a lady who stood near
Margaret stood still under the horse-chestnut him.
in some natural embarrassment, hoping, that "Oh, /know who it is," interposed at this
she should not be discovered, and would be moment an errand boy, who came up with
able to make her escape unobserved. She had some letters ; "she is the district school-teach-
no idea what a picture she made, just in front er my cousin goes to her."
;

of the old tree, with the sunset dropping its "Really, Ellen," interposed at this moment
golden festoons about her. She stood there,
all Julia Lathropj the elder of the girls and she ;

in her straw hat and the delicate lawn dress tossed her haughty head, and her laugh and
which two years before had been her father's her words came silver and scornful to Marga-
gift, for one moment in a flutter of embarrass- ret's ear
" I don't think I should give myself
ment the next her feet were bouml to the
; mnch trouble for the sake of a schoolma'am,
spot, and she lost all consciousness of her posi- instead of some princess in disguise, as I fan-
tion, for there were three faces amid the com- might be. Your hospitality would
cied the lady
pany which she recognized, and the first of doubtless overwhelm her. But, dear me,"
these was an elderly lady, with a portly figure shrugging her pretty shoulders, "I don't think
and self-complacent countenance, near whom such people ought to be allowed to wander
for a moment stood two graceful, haughty-look- around people's grounds in this fashion. It
ing girls.And this lady and those girls were encourages too much freedom on their part."
the wife and daughters of the former senior It was quite evident that Miss Lathrop had not

partner of Mr. Phillips, the man who had recognized Margaret, or she would not have
wronged her father no other man had ever
as made this speech.
done, the man who h.ad
taken advantage of Mr. "I think so too," chimed in softly Caroline,
Phillips's implicit confidence in him, and, man- the younger of the sisters.
aging to evade the law, had yet contrived to get The words and the laugh stung Margaret
his younger partner's property into his own into a white calm. Some impulsion outside of
hands, and availed himself of Mr. Phillips's herself seemed to send Iier out fiom tlie great
illness to entirely control the firm and so involve horse-chestnut. She walked slowly and stead-
 TUE TUBBETS OF THE STONE HOUSE. 143

fastly ri^ht up to the people on the veramta, flashed up through their tears to the gentleman,
ami coiifroiiteil with her white face the dozen before Jier lips, all unbent now, and with a
others that were bent down in amazement on little tremulous flutter about them, answered
her. "Thank you. I am familiar with the road and
Tlie stirt and look of blank consternation on with loneliness too, so I am compelled to decline
three of those faces warned Margaret that tliey your courtesy."
had recognized her and turning to Julia hath-
; Ue did not renew it ; he had fine intuition
rop, she said in her clear, soft voice, which enough to perceive that the girl must prefer
kept its tone steadfast to the end: "You will just now to be alone, so he answered, with a
l)lease tell your friends, Julia, as you well smile, and the smile of Gilbert Sackett was not
knotr that they have nothing to apprehend just like the smile of most other men, for
from freedom on mj part, and as you do not higher elements entered into it : "I hope, then,
perhaps know, I take liere occasion to tell you ma'am, you will give us some opportunity of
that if //"'" father had dealt honestly or justly renewing our courtesy at some time that shall
by mine, if he had not throngh all the years- find greater favor with yourself. We have
that he was his partner, and on his dying bed, only just learned you were our neighbors."
wronged and robbed him, my mother would And he lifted his hat and left her.
not be now dwelling in poverty and obscurity, And Margaret went her way alone, and the
neither should / be a sclioolma'ani." young moon was like a silver lily blossoming
The words fired Margaret's lips, and she amid the golden buds of stars which filled the
eould not hold them back. Their effect cannot sky.
easily be described. Every one on the veranda
heard them, and stood still, gazing from the Three years have passed. In a small alcove
young teacher to the Lathrops. They were which opened out of the sitting-room in the
all, mother and daughters, so overwhelmed stone house were gathered one day Mrs. Phil-
with surprise, mortification, and it may be so lips, and .Margaret, and Gilbert Sackett. The
conscience-stricken, that they could not utter elder lady was a pleasant, gentle, dignified
a word. Tliey stood there
still, with crimson woman, and the bands of soft brown h.air,
taoes, lookingconfounded and convicted. And faintly sifted with gray, lay smoothly about
so Margaret turned aw.iy, and walked alone her face, which still retained something of the
down the avenue which led ont of the gronnds. beauty of its girlhood. The gentleman and
The feeling which had sustained her for a lady were hardly changed in these years, ex-
time gave way as she was out of every one's cept th.it Margaret's face shone with a light
sight. The gray turrets only looked down on and joy which it never wore in those days
the girl and saw her stagger feebly beyond the when she carried itup to the old red school
pate, and the tears flowed still from the brown in faith and patience.
eyes of Margaret Phillips. Margaret was seated by the bay window,
She had not gone far when a quick step looking, with eyes that read its new meanings
aroused her, and turning her tear-stained face, every day, to the beautiful landscape which
she saw the young gentleman who had proposed stretched before her in a rain of June sunlight,
to extend her some courtesy when she stood the soft winds rufiling the short gr.ass and loi-

under the chestnut tree. lie was a man about tering among the rare and beautiful shrubberies,
thirty, tall, with a fine figure, and a face that and as she gazed a flock of thoughts or memo-
was all that and more, for though it was not ries came head and over her face,
into her
handsome, it was a good, strong, cultivated which, although these were not sorrow, yet
face, a face which compelled you to believe it, were touched with something tender and sad.
for it was inspired with justice, and courtesy, " What are you thinking of, my little wife ?"
and real truth and manliness of character. asked Gilbert Sackett and he tossed aside the
;

" Madam," said the young gentleman, lifting paper, threw himself on the lounge, and leaned
his U.at with a grace which no courtier could over toward Margaret.
have rivalled to a lost princess, "if yon will do Herh.and, her soft, cool h.and. moved tenderly
us the honor to accept it, we shall be most happy throngh the short, thick chestnut hair. " What
to send you home in our carriage. I fear yon makes you ask that question?" with a faint
will find it a somewhat long and lonely walk at smile just touching her lips.
hour."
this late " Oh, several things. Why don't you an-
Margaret Phillips little suspected the beau- swer it, Mrs. Sackett?"
tiful and eloquent thanks which her brown eyes "Had I better indulge him, mamma?" said
vol. LXVI. 12
lU godey's lady's book and magazine.

the lady, and this time tlie smile was empha- close my eyes, and see the whole scene again."
sized into archness as she turned toward her Before the lady could answer, a domestic
mother. suddenly entered with some letters for Mr.
"Now, mother, I interpose with a protest Sackett. Breaking the seal of the first one,
there," exclaimed the gentleman. "You know with an apology to the ladies, he read for a
you gave up your right and title here into my little while.
hands a year and a half ago, and my claim on At last he looked up. " Ellen and her hus-
her is .iTjsolute. band have taken a house near Paris, and mo-
"I believe it is," answered Mrs. Phillips, ther and Elizabeth will remain with them for a
smiling fondly on her children. year or two so, Margaret, you are sole mistress
;

"There, Margaret, you hear!" of the stone house, turrets and all."
"Well, if you put it in that light," smiled " How those turrets are changed to me now!"
the young wife, " I see no choice left hut obe- she said. " They stand to me, wherever I
dience and confession. So I was thinking of catch a glimpse of them, as a sign of all home
some mornings, which are not so far off but that jvarmth, and grace, and happiness, and I have
they rise up very vividly before me now and grown to love and welcome the sight of them
then, and wondering how I should have felt at always."
that time had any one told me, as I went up "Margaret, shall I tell you just what I am
through the lane to the old red schoolhouse, and thinking of just now ?"
caught sight of the gray turrets that used to "Yes ; I shall be glad always to know your
haunt and trouble me so, that in less than thoughts, Gilbert" her little fingers braiding
three years I should be the mistress here !" themselves once more in the bright chestnut
" What should you have felt, little woman ?" hair.
laughed Gilbert Sackett, pinching the small "I am thinking that you are a very good
rose in his wife's cheek.
woman, Margaret the best woman, it seems
"It is impossible for me to tell. Yesterday, to me, that God ever gave a man for his espe-
when you were away, I walked up through that cial love and that I shall be a
and cherishing ;

old lane, and tried to feel as I used to, and to truer, better man
because of your power and
contrast the past with the 'to-day.' " influence about my life." He spoke solemnly,
"And did you succeed, my dear child?" fervidly now, looking into her face.
asked her mother, for both husbandaud parent The tears were in her brown eyes now, as she
were evidently touched with Margaret's simple leaned over him and said " Oh, Gilbert, what :

avowal. you last said is the one prayer of my life I"

" Well, partly. hope that I realized both
I And Margaret Sackett did not suspect that that
with and vividness to gather
sufficient force prayer was its own fulfilment
some lessons, some good from out them."
"Ah, Margaret, you are not like other wo-
men you never were, and from that first time
;

that I looked on your face until this day, you

TO ONE WHO SAID, "I WILL LOVE
have always been unconsciously doing some- THEE BEST OF ALL."
thing quaint and original, something to startle BY FREDERIC WRIGHT.
and surprise me." Not for all the stars of night.
The small rose widened into bright bloom in Not for morning's rosy light,
tlie cheek of Margaret Sackett. " Oh, Gilbert, Not fur all that land and sea
Ever could bestow on me.
I was not seeking for quaintness or originality
Would I have thee yield me lova
then !"
Dae alone to God above
',' My darling, nobody would ever suspect you
Not for beauty in my face,
of that. Do you suppose and sensi- so prosaic
Not for eyes of lustrous grace.
ble a man
I am would have been so com-
as Not for gentle look or smile.
pletely conquered at first sight as I was, had I Nor the bloom that care may spoil.
not known well a vast deal more than you Would I dare such worship own
Worship due to Gud alone !
suspected, innocent Margaret?"
" wonder what gave me courage to do and
I We are but creatures of a day,

1
say what I did at that time ?" said the lady, Treading life's uncertain way,
Liable to sin and shame
speaking softly, half to herself. ;

All around us are the same.

" I don't it was like you at such a time and
;
Let thy soul's first homage he
under such circumstances. And, Margaret, I Paid to God, and not to me '.
 SOIREE AT ALEPPO. 145

their lives had been spared amidst the utter

SOIREE AT ALEPPO. desolation and sorrow that reigned around,
(From a Corresjmident.) they migrated to this suburban and pleasantly
In winter-tiino the ilile of Aleppo society, situated spot, called Ketab, and there con-
inclusive of Euroiwans, native Christians, and structed houses on a modern and lighter pattern,
Hebrews, assemble ever and anon at each other's and built so as best to resist any recurrence of
houses just to help the long evenings on their such a frightful calamity. With this prelude
flight and enjoy a little keif. They are dreary we arrive at the door of our host's house, which
enough, iu all conscience, without this circle ;
is brilliantly lighted up, and whence the hum
for though there is but little severe cold, and of many voices issuing assures us that we are
that only of brief duration, the temperature is not the first arrivals.
jnoist and humid, with abundance of rain ; and "Allah! Salah mete salami!" This from
solitude and solitary cogitations might only bo our aged host and hostess, and signifying, in
suggestive of suicide. Therefore, after we have hyperboles, "You are welcome as the dews in
done justice to the late dinner (usually at 7 summer," we are escorted to the further end
P. M.)
for we shall get no solids to eat where of the room behind the musicians and ensconced

we are going we go through the necessary amongst comfortable cushions upon a luxurious
toilet, etc., give an extra twist to moust.ache or divan, receive and return the usual flow of
curl to whiskers for all the belles of Ketab will compliments, and then to smoking like
fall

be there and, armed with a sensibly large chimneys over a cookshop. Our position is an
umbrella and goodly mackintosh, preceded by a admirable one from which to scan the motley
servant carrying a lantern (which is a precau- assemblage and see .ill that is going forward.
tion necessary, not only on account of the The very pink of Aleppine fashion is rapidly
narrow, dirty, dark, and deserted streets, but assembling, and to do them speci.al honor the
tokeep off the legion of half-starving curs that hostess has procured the services of the cele-
would otherwise devour us, and avoid the un- brated Hadjih-Bashi and his band of musicians,
pleasant altern.itive of falling in with the night ^who are tuning up horribly, with the intention
patrol, who would forthwith put us into chokey of bursting forth into superb strains, sucli as
until
morning it being the law of the laud to shall astonish the weak minds of .all strangers.
imprison all found abroad after dark without The group is seated upon a Turkey rug, and
lantern or light of some description), we walk the leader pl.ays upon a stringed instrument
forth into the night, and so towards the house something an iEolian harp laid flrit
like half
of Howaja Nalah Fattalah Karalla, who has a upon the he performs with the aid of a
floor ;

reception this evening. species of steel talon, attached thimblewise to

kOur
one of
host and hostess are lineal descendants
of the most ancient and respectalile
each forefinger. So long as he restricts himself
to this instrument, the melody emitted is really
Aleppine families, tracing their descent easily soft very soon, however, the
and pleasant ;

J as far back as the time when all
li of the Indies passed through Aleppo
K via the Cape ofGood Hope being then undis-
. covered, and when Venice had many princely
merchants residing in this city. Before the
earthquake of 1S21 this family had a splendid
mansion in one of the best khans in the city,
where from gener.ation to generation had accu-
mulated the choicest and the rarest porcelain
vases, etc., besides untold wealth in jewels and
other gems and jewelry. At one fell swoop,
the commerce guitar plays, throws his overbalance of discord
the route into the music, and drowns the soft notes of
the stringed instrument with his abominable
twang-twanging, wholly regardless of accord as
regards the timing of the two instruments per-
forming, or tune, or anything else. What,
however, can be expected from such a wretch
with a dried old gourd with three strings to
perform upon? In all conscience, the music is
villanous enough at this stage of the proceed-
ing but it has far, very far, from arrived at its
;

even as it were in the twinkling of an eye, the climax of horrors. The heartless vocalist throws
house, in common with the greater part of the in his contribution, in the shape of a sudden,
city, was and the
levelled with the ground, loud, prolonged, and dirge-like yell, hanging
fruits of years of toil and hundreds upon hun- on the last quaver so long and obstinately that
dreds of miles of weary and fatiguing jouruey- he is obliged to hold his jaw with his hand for
ings were destroyed and irrevocably lost. Our fear of dislocating it. In our opinion, the wail-
host found himself one amongst some thousands ing at an Irish wake more lively esp''ci-
is far ;

that had lost their everything and h.ad a fresh ally, varied as it is by an occasional fight. But
start to make in life. Thankful, however, that quot homines, etc., the old axiom stands good here
146 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AXD MAGAZIXE.

as elsewhere : the ancient in the kalpak, or cap and it is delightful to see how urbanely he
of honor (a badge of high dignity, and a here- receives these attentions, smiling over his stiff

ditary one enjoyed by some

whose families cravat beuignantly. Even the two French doc-
ancestors did noted service to the state in bygone tors, who are loudly argumentative on profes-
times), is evidently enraptured with the per- sional subjects, their noise and their
drop
formance, and can hardly restrain himself put- gesticulations to do homage to M. le Baron ;

ting in an extra quaver or two when the vocalist for M. le Baron has a large and wealthy family,
at length stops from utter exhaustion, pulling and commands great intluence and, all said ;

up and drop-
as abruptly as a cavalry charger, and done, these disputatious disciples of iEscu-
ping his voice as quickly as a monkey would a lapius are but a couple of hungry adventurers,
hot potato. This latter method of abruptly ready to grapple with and cure every malady,
terminating music is considered the very acme imaginary or real if the former, so much the
;

of vocal art ; and, truth to say, it must be a easier, and it is a complaint that ofttimes
difficult knack. If the ancient iu the kalpak besets the well-to-do and indolent in their ple-
looks fascinated, the foreign refugee doctor of thoric repose even in our own favored country.
the troops iu the city, who sits next to bim, The lady conversing with the Consul is of an
and whose first experience this is of Oriental independent, jealous kind of disposition, and
melody, is lost in unfathomable surprise at the little disposed to knuckle down to the lion and

glee evinced by his neighbor, marvelling se- his party and as for the Consul himself, being
;

cretlywhether really any human being with a salaried one and of private independent means,
tympanum iu healthy state OBuld other than he can afford to sit and chuckle alike at the
shudder at the performance just concluded. oil'erers and the receivers of fawning fiattery ;

Next to this fresh impoitation, and utterly and so this couple smoke and chat together
callous to everything else going ou around them, amicably.
are a couple of merchants, native and European, Seated on a divan are the lady guests of the
deep in commerce, and discussing in whispers evening, inhaling alternately the perfumed
projects of future specs to be undertaken in fumes of the nargheel, or whispering scraps and
gallnuts and scammouy. Not in so low a odds and ends of scandal, to be improved upon
whisper is their all-engrossing conversation, and retailed hereafter. The pretty and fascina-
however, but that the wary Hebrews near them ting j'ouug daughters of the house are handing
are picking up useful crumbs of information round small fingans of cofl'ee to the assembled
which they will assuredly turn to account guests a continuous supply of this refreshing
;

when occasion requires.
are congregated the small fry of the evening
discussing the merits and dress of everybody
but themselves. These are mostly small shop-
keepers, and so forth, who, as a rule, may be
classified as of the genus toadies.
But what can all this stir be that is going on
at the further end of the room ? Oh, we per-
ceive the mighty man, the lion of the evening,
has arrived, accompanied bj' his lady and suite,
and preceded by six sturdy, silver-caned cu-
wasses, who form a kind of avenue at the
entrance-door, through which the pompous offi-
cial struts with indescribable grandeur. This
is Signer Console Generales of some Power that
never carries on a ha'porth of trade with any
part of Syria. However, in return for serving
In the background beverage being always ready to hand, and
simmering on the ledge of a well-piled-up
maugal, or brazier of bright charcoal, which
also supplies the coals used by the smokers of
the long pipe, at the same time that it con-
tributes a genial warmth to the atmosphere of
the room, which is lighted by a splendid chan-
delier, adding brilliancy to the rich costumes
and headdresses of the lady guests. Contrasting
wonderfully with the noise and bustle going
forward is the faithful old house-dog, fast
asleep, not far from the maugal.
By and by the Adonis and the belle of the
evening (the latter after much coaxing and
persuading) walk into the centre of the rooms
with all the grace and dignity of people born
and bred at court. Now step we a measure ;

gratis, he granted the dignity of a Baron, and

is the music at first is low, and the motions of
sports a splendid uniform, with cocked hat and the dancers, each armed with an embroidered
multifarious plumes, to say nothing of his de- handkerchief, slow and graceful also. Presently
corations of the golden spurs, and divers others, both musicians and dancers warm with the
amongst which, mayhap, is the order of the theme, till ultimately the music gets deafeu-

Mouse in the Mustard-pot. Our host and his ingly loud and awfully rapid, and the dancers
son receive the lion with almost humiliating so excited that they whirl and twirl about
cringings in their endeavors to do him honor, very gracefully withal but so rapidly as to
 POETBY. 147

perfectly bewilder and make one giddy. The old Wander there at twilight bonrs.
Beautify the tomb with flowers
lady spectator is positively enchanted, and claps
Watered oft with tears ;
with her old wizened-up hands to enconrage
Feeble heart, thy boasted strength
and urge on the dancersat such a rate that one Bows in,agony at length,
can almost hear the bones rattling together. For her smile you are denied,
Towards the end, everybody assembled is ex- And the world is dark and wide.
pected hands, Shadowed deep with fears.
to clap till, just as the dance
termin.ates, the old dog awakes from a trance of Heard ye not the cadence sweet
terror, and joins his wail to the equally discor- Of her voice, with song replete.
In the heavenly choir?
dant voice of the musician.
Saw ye not the violet eyes
So the evening passes. Now a dance, now a Beaming with a glad surprise?
song, very often amateur then some wretched ; But the vision passed away,
lunatic of a foreignercomes out of a corner with Leaving on my path a ray,
a fiddle, and scrapes out some national anthem Quickeniug desire.
Toil thou on with patience; "hope
or ditty. Sometimes a profusely moustached
Bears the fainting spirit up."
,
professor of the guitar gives an extract from Thou shalt meet again
some favorite opera, accompanying the music In a fairer world than ours
with a low bass growl, his voice reminding one Land where never-fading flowers
of some fierce animal trying to make its way Grace the heavenly plain.

through a thicket. So passes the evening till

nigh npou midnight, when lanterns are relit
and cloaks resumed, the ladies enveloping them- How TO Reach the Heakt. We have found
selves in white sheets up to the very eyes, throughout a not very long career, but very
and sailing out into the dark night like so many extended experience, that kindness is the surest
ghosts issuing forth from a vault. A glass of way to reach the human heart, and that harsh-
something hot before leaving, and a freshly- ness a northern, frost-laden blast, hardening
is

lighted cigar, and we follow in the wake of the a current that should fiow as merrily as a brook
departed, waking the still night into countless in spring. Kindness makes sunshine wherever
echoes with snatches of songs sung in far distant it goes it finds its w.ty into the hidden treasures
;

lands, and which are pleasanter to us as sou- of the heart, and brings forth treasures of gold.
venirs than a thousand soirees at Aleppo, divert- Harshness, on the contrary, seals them forever.
ing, entertaining, and profitable though these What does kindness do at home 1 It makes
better undoubtedly are. the mother's lullaby sweeter than the song of
the lark, the care-laden brows of the father
and the man of business less severe in their
LINES.
and the children joyous without
expression,
BT LBUUBL n. WILSOK.
being riotous. Abroad, it assists the fallen,
Oenti.y close the heavy lid,
encourages the virtuous, and looks with true
For the brightness all has fled
From the violet eyes ;
charity on the extremely unfortunate those in
Part the tresses from her brow. the broad way who perhaps have never been
It is pale and icy now; taught that the narrow path was the best, or
Press thy lips to lips of clay.
had turned from it at the solicitation of temp-
For the soul is far away.
tation. Kindness is the real law of life, the
Wandering in the skies.
link that connects earth with heaven, the true
Fold anew those taper hands.
Clasped by tender, flowery bands philosopher's stone, for all it touches it turns
All anconscionsly ;
to virgin gold the wherewith we
true gold,
Deck with flowers the radiant hair, purchase contentment, peace, and love.
She is wondronsly fair;
Is it defith, or is it sleep? We should forget that there is any such thing
Press again yonr qnivering lip as snflTering in the world, were we not occasion-
To those lips of clay. ally reminded of it through our own.
Strong heart, where is now thy pride?
She has fallen by thy sido
Is order to deserve a true friend you mast
Here thy joys end ;
first learn to be one.
Ah, the world is dark bat where

It is often better to have a great deal of harm

Wilt thoa hide thy deep despair?
For the sods aro pressing now happen to one ; a gre.it deal may arouse you to
Damp and heavy on her brow. remove what a little will only accustom you to
Where the willows bend. endure. ^
12*
 THE DUET.
BT S. ANSIE FROST.
(See Plate.)

" There is a family moving into the big
house on the hill." Willie Holmes fully appre-
ciated the importance of his announcement,
and expected the flood of questions which fol-
lowed it. A family moving into the big house
on the hill Why, the big house had been
1 Nettie's eyes glow, her cheeks flush, and hast-
empty ever since Willie was a wee, toddling
baby, and he was now fourteen years old.
He, in company with the other village boys,
had spent hours of unmitigated enjoyment
playing tag in the large deserted garden, or,
creeping in through the long closed windows,
roaming wide halls and empty
at will in the
rooms. It was the house, par excellence, of
Linvrood, towering in its lofty position over the
little clusters of cottages in the vale formed by
the hill's rising, and occupying, with its wide
sweep of garden, orchard, and fancy ground,
almost the whole eminence. There were men
in the village who had seriously thought of
taking possession of the pretentious brick man-
sion but from year to year it had been po,-.t-
; cial gatherings of the village a belle amongst
poued, the builder and proprietor having left it
with an agent, who did not urge its claims.
"Who are they, Willie?" The question
was put by his elder sister Nettie, who opened
her large blue eyes with great interest at his
announcement.
The Holmes family were at tea when Master
Will came in with the latest news, and he
dashed off to make himself presentable before
of never-ending delight. Stories of travel, in-
cidents gleaned from the ever-varying scenes of
an active life, bright scraps of book knowledge,
criticisms that related the novel or recited the
poem, these were the interests that made
ened the day's toil that the evening might be
all free for listening. She was so pretty, so
intelligent in spite of her modest estimate of
herself, so eager to listen, yet so wiuningly shy,
that Wilson was only too ready to join her
when she stole softly into the parlor after teh.
He was not her lover by protestation, yet in
these long winter evenings, the summer ram-
bles, drives, or rides, two hearts were fast
knitting together in this pleasant cottage of
Linwood. Two years had Pr. Rivers lived
with Farmer Holmes at the time my story com-
mences, and Nettie had grown from a sby,
blushing school-girl into a beautiful maiden,
modest yet, but self-possessed, and in the so-
her companions. No party was complete with-
out Nettie Holmes, and of course the Doctor
was her escort to all. Many sly, laughing
speeches were made about Nettie's beau, but
she heeded none of them. No words of love-
making had ever passed between herself and
Wilson Rivers, yet she felt confident in the
certainty of his love, sure that at some good
time be would tell was part of
ber of it. It

he gave Nettie an answer. They were Robert her very being, this love and trust, and so,
Holmes' only children, yet beside Nettie sat happy and constant, she waited for him to con-
one evidently much at home in the family. A firm his actions by speech. He was her constant
tall, well-knit figure, curling brown hair, large companion, ber teacher, her protector, her
hazel eyes, and handsome features made Wil- escort,and in ber pui'e little heart she firmly
son Rivers no unsightly addition to the farmer's believed her lover. ..
well-spread board, and Nettie had evidently And after this long preamble, during wliich
found this out. She was a simple, modest Willie has washed bis hands and taken his
country girl, this heroine of mine, .and when place at the tea-table, we come back to the
the young doctor came with his introductory eventful fact the big house on the hill was
letters toask board at the farmer's, Nettie's
voice was one to urge his claims.
taken.
" Such furniture !" said Willie, with much

He was a man of sparkling intellect (yet not energy. " Such chairs and tables ! All the
frothy, for his brilliants were pure, dug from way from New York they came ! The folks
the mines of knowledge) and courteous, win- are New Yorkers, too. They 've got a big box
ning manners-v Soon popular in his profession, that is a piano, somebody says."
he had learned early in his stay at Liuwood to "Oh," said Nettie, with wide opened eyes,
find the liome parlor the most attractive of " I do so long to hear a piano Who are they,
!

them all. To Nettie his presence was a source Willie ?"

148

i

" Why, there '3 a lady and three daughters.
One of them is married, and has two more little
girls ;then there 's a grown up sou. The mar-
ried one is named Sawyer her husband is in
; came, and at what would be deemed iu
Uie navy, and he 's away. The mother is a
widow; her name is Loflus."
" A widow !" cried Wilson.
Nettie looked at him in utter
nis face was white as death, his bloodless
parted, his eyes fixed on Willie with a strange
stare. Seeing that he had attracted the atten-
ttion of the family, he gave a nervous little
all
laugh, and abruptly left the table.
Nettie's interest in the big house and its in-
mates was lost in her wonderment about Wil-
son. He was always so self-possessed and quiet
that this sudden agitation was as new as it was
alarmiug. It was quite late in the evening
before he joined them in the parlor, but when
he came he was self-possessed and quiet as if
no word had ever stirred the depths of his
heart to such marked manifestation. His man-
ner to Nettie, always affectionate, had a new
tenderness, his voice a new tone that thrilled
her with happiness yet there was a sadness
;
lurking in the depths of his dark eyes, a sha-
dow on his brow that had never been so deep.
He was never gay, but his usual manner was
cheerful ; now it was quiet and
new, strange grief had befallen him.
It was not long before the new-comers were
the queens of the village. With we.ilth and
style, the young ladies were gracious in man-
courteous to callers, and prompt to make
Iner,
friends. AValter, the son, was handsome enough
to win his way easily in the hearts of the yil-
l.agers, and the big house was one of the most
popular iu Linwood. They had been in their
new home but a short time when Nettie called
with her mother to welcome them and extend
the hospitality of the farm to the new-comers.
The little beauty returned delighted
village
with her visit Mrs. Loftns and Mrs. Sawyer
;
were so kind, the girls, Winnie and Emily, so
handsome, and the son so courteous. Nettie
could talk of nothing else, and the Doctor list-
ened eagerly. He asked a thousand questions,
calling the girls by their Christian names, and
flushing out of his customary dignity to pour
forth his eager interrogations.
" You will go with us on Thursday evening,
will yon not ?" said Nellie. "We are invited
to tea, and the invitation includes yon. There
xvill be no company, but Emily has promised
that I shall hear the piano."
"I go! No I well, yes, I will
THE DCET. 149
the Doctor, and again his pale face made Net-
tie wonder.
Thursday evening, the eventful evening,
cities
an unfashionably early hour the guests ar-
rived at the big house. Mrs. Holmes, Nettie,
and Willie came first the othei'S were to join
;
amazement, them after tea. The afteruoou passed pleasant-
lips ly, though Nettie, iu her constant little heart,
wished Walter would not be quite so attentive,
and was gl.id that Wilson was not there to see.
It was early still when Farmer Holmes and the
Doctor arrived. Mrs. Holmes and Mrs. Loftus
were in the nursery, deep in the mysteries of a
new apron pattern, and upon Nettie fell the
task of introducing the Doctor and her father.
The latter was cordial and pleasant in his
greeting, but the Doctor's face was pallid, and
the hand that held Nettie's cold as death. He
made a stiff bow, and stood leaning against the
mautlepiece, evidently ill at ease. Nettie,
accustomed to see him the life of society, cour-
teous and popular, puzzled her brain in vain to
account for this strange manner. It threw a
chill over them all. At last, to break the spell,
the sisters threw open the grand piano, ,ind
began to play, first Emily, then Winnie, and
finally both sat down for a duet.
sad, as if a
Where was the pleasure Nettie expected to
derive from hearing that wonderful in?trument?
Gone lost in her strange bewilderment over
I
Wilson's conduct. From the moment when
the piano was opened his face had changed
from its cold reserve to a look of the most eager
interest. He had come nearer and nearer to
the piano, till, leaning forward, his whole soul
was in the eager eyes watching the players.
Walter Loftus h.ad drawn Nettie down to a
seat, and was leaning over near her, talking
with lovelike earnestness, and his mother,
gliding softly In, took the seat to her right
yet, while her answers were polite to the host,
her ear could catch Wilson's quick breathing,
and if she turned her head, it was to see his
eyes fastened upon the players. At last the
long duet was over, and the groups round the
piano moved their position. Nettie stood up,
Walter still beside her.
Her heart was sick with a new sensation.
Never in his warmest moods had Wilson's eyes
rested upon her as they now rested upon Emily
Loftus, and when Mrs. Sawyer took her turn
at the piano, Nettie saw Wilson bend over the
young lady with an earnest face and tender
manner that cut her heart like a knife. All
the evening he was beside her, and the walk
go," said home was takeu iu silence. This was but the
150 godey's lady's book and magazine.

begiuning of her sorrow. Day after day, Wil- in his profession, and humbly to wonder how
son Rivers was the guest of the big house, and he could love so ignorant and simple a country
*
while Nettie, keeping her heart still for him, girl as herself.
spite of its pain,was cold and distant to Walter, Now, now, she felt bitterly th.at, while she
his attentions to the fair Emily redoubled. They had been loving with all the fervor of her warm
walked togethei^nd rode. The long evenings, impulsive heart, he bad been trifling, testing,
before spent in the farmhouse so pleasantly, perhaps, his powers of pleasing. The morning
were now lonely and sad for Nettie, while found her pale and weary, but with the innate
Wilson was aw.iy at the big house. womanhood she rose, resolved that he
pride of
Poor little Nettie Her sweet face grew pale
I should not triumph over her whom he had
over her sick, sad heart and if for an hour
; slighted and injured.
Wilson's still gentle attentions called back the She was in the dining-room when be entered,
smile to her lip, it faded when he left her. and she fairly started when she saw his face.
What were her modest chai-ms to this dashing, All the gravity, the half sadness which had al-
accomplished city girl's ? Nothing Though ! ways marked it, was gone, and in its place shone
he broke her heart, she found excuses for him a joy that was radiant. Never had his face
in the beauty of her rival. lighted with such a smile as he gave her then,
It was late in the fall, and the Loftus family crossing the room to take her hand in a warm
had been some two months in Linwood, when cordial pressure.
one evening Nettie passed through the grounds " Can you give me an hour after breakfast ?"
on her way from the village home. Farmer he asked; "I have something to tell yon,
Holmes lived, as did many others, on the south Nettie,"
side of the hill, while the shops of the village Never had his voice dwelt with such linger-
were principally on the north side. The path ing fondness upon her name. Was he about to
through the garden of the big house was a make her the confidante of his love ? She
thoroughfare for those passing over the hill, believed this ;
yet she could smile and say,
and Nettie took it. She did not raise her eyes, "Certainly I"
from a long fit of musing, till she stood in front tell was as great as was her
His impatience to
of the house then the light from the parlor
; dread of listening for he Imrried through the
;

windows, striking across her path, made her meal, and then, not speaking of her untouched
look up. One look, and she stood as if nailed cup and plate, be took her little cold hand and
to the spot. led her into the parlor.
It was a croel scene
her loving heart that
for "Nettie," he said, as soon as be had seated
was passing in that gayly furnished parlor. himself beside her, "I am going to tell you
Wilson was standing by the fireplace, and Emily who I ami"
Loftus was before him. Some tale of interest Nettie opened her big blue eyes.
his eager lips were telling, for she listened with "Yes," he said, laughing, " I know ! I am
flushed cheeks and quivering he opened
lip, till Dr. Wilson Elvers, medical practitioner of this Mi
his arras to fold her in a long, close embrace. lovely village of Linwood but that is not all.
; ^1
Then the door opened, and the rest came in. My father died when I was but ten years old,
Emily sprang to her mother's side, telling some leaving my mother a widow with five children
new found happiness, and then as the group two sisters older than myself, one sister and
closed round Wilson, Nettie, with a cry of pain, brother younger. Between this young sister
ran forward with a fearful speed homeward. and myself there was the strongest tie of love,
Home home to shut herself close in her little
! and we were from babyhood almost inseparable.
room, and pour forth her bitter woe in choking When my own father bad been some two years
sobs. She had so loved, so trusted him, that dead, my mother married again, .and then my
it seemed as if she could not bear this proof of misery commenced. I cannot tell you all the
faithlessness and live. The long night passed persecutions my stepfather lavished upon me,
without one hour of sleep. simply because I of all was the only one who
How wildly and blindly she had loved him ! opposed my mother's marriage. To her he
Many nights before she had lain awake to think was a kind husband, he was proud of my beai>-
of him but then it was to recall his soft, sweet
; tiful sisters, and my brother was too young to

voice, as it murmured low cadences of poetry, or cross him but his hatred for myself was one of
;

in clear clarion tones taught her to sing some the ruling passions of his life. I was a high-
favorite ballad, praising her clear bird-like voice. spirited, passionate boy, and my patience was
It was to think of his goodness, his kind care soon exhausted. Daily my father's auger was

J
 THE DUET. l.jl

visited upon me for some petty fault, till, driven Emily struck the first chords of a duet from
desperate hy persecution, I ran away from Martha.
home. "Ah, Em I" said Wilson, "can you ever
" For two years my life was passed working guess how, when you played that once before,
hard for my bread as a newsboy in Philadelphia. I you like a maniac and
w.is longing to rush at
1 had, fortunately, money enough for my pas- clasp you in my arms?"
sage from New York, and something to purchase "You showed it in your eyes," said Nettie,
my first bundle of papers. Then, under the in a low tone that reached his ear only ;
" fiom
exposure, fatigue, and lonely homesickness, my that duet dated all my dream of misery."
health gave way. I was very ill, but from that " And my hope of happiness," he said, softly,
illness dates the change in my life. The land- "dates from those strong chords."
lady of the house where I boarded, akind-hearted
woman, sent for Dr. Rivers, one of the warmest
hearted, most eccentric old bachelors that ever
lived. Something in his forlorn little patient THE CASKET OF THE YEAR.
interested him, and he soon won my confidence. BY WILLIE E. PABOR.
1 will not weary you with the history of our Ptarl Vie Second. Fthruar^.
friendship. Suffice it to say, that I rose from
By Nnma named, to Keptane dedicate,
that sick bed to become the adopted son of my Aud patroned by Valentine the Good
St.

physician. He was wealthy, and had me edu- I at Time's portals with thy welcnnie wait

cated in his own profession. Before he took me As a true lover of the seasons should.
home, he exacted from me a promise that I Thy span, by two suns briefer than the rest,
would never return to my stepfathei', and I Hath little that is genial to bestow!
Tjje stream still hides within the Ice King's breast,
willingly gave it. Upon his death, 1 became,
And Winter sits upon his throne of snow.
by his will, heir to his property, and, having a
strong love for my profession, sought out a The wind still wifistles through the leafles's trees,

And Nature, in her desolate array,

quiet home where I could at once enjoy my
Waits like a devotee upon her knees
practice, and the delights of country life.
The veil that falls ; the clouds thac rolls away
" jind now, Nettie, comes the happy part of
Waits, in the patience of a perfect hope,
my story. I have found my mother, sisters, The coming of a better, brighter day ;

and brother free from the tyrant who made Whea roses shall their blushing bosoms ope,
my boyhood so wretched. I was afraid they Aud yield the far-famed odors of Cathay.
would never forgive the prodigal who so sud-
Within thy circle fireside pleasures yet
denly and selfishly left them, and for weeks I Have power to charm the song and tale go round
;

dared not speak. Last night my sister spoke The hearth where all the loving ones have met
so tenderly, so regretfully of the brother whom When Night has round each home her mantle bound.
she had lost that 1 could keep silence no longer. Within thy circle lies the natal hour
I never take the name they have all
shall Of good Saint Valentine, the lover's friend ;

adopted, but my mother is Mrs. Loftus, and Tenths and fair maidens own his magic power,
And all their wishes to his welcome tend.
my sisters are your friends."
Happy little Nettie ! Spite of herself, the joy And then can.=jt also claim nis natal day,
she felt would spring up to her expressive face,
Who was our country's Founder, Father, Friend!
Whose hallowed precepts we would still obey:
the dimpling smile to her lip, the color to her
Whose gift of Freedom we would still defend.
cheek. And when, a more tender, earnest
in
For thesewe welcome thee for these we twitio !

tone, Wilson preferred a suit near to his heart,

The fragrant flower of Memory for thee!
there did not live in Linwood a prouder, hap- Amid the odors floating round thy shrine
pier little maiden than Nettie. With the frank We yield thee tribute on our bended kuee.
simplicity of a child, she told hira all her doubts
and misery of the past few weeks, receiving re-
iterated assurances of his faithful love.
It was a happy evening
the one that fol-
A PHiLOSOPUER being asked what was the first
thing necessary towards winning the love of a
lowed this confidence. In the parlor of the big
house, the newly-found brother brought the woman, answered, "An opportunity."
blushing little Nettie to his mother, sisters, and Ol't of good men choose acquaintances ; of
brother, as a claimant for love, aud most cor- acquaintances, friends.
dially was she welcomed. Health constitutes the happiness of the body
They were all standing round the piano, when virtue that of the mind.
 II
HUSKS, n
'
And he would fain have filled himself with the husks that the swine did eat ; and no man gave unto him.

BY MARION HARLAN D.

[Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1S63, by Locis A. Godet, in the clerk's office of the District
Court of the United States, iu and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.]

(Continued from page 39.)

CHAPTER III. ladies upon the carpet at once. Lucy's elegant

Summer bad come to the country with its and varied wardrobe, and the certain expenses
bloom and its beauty, its harvests and its lioli- in prospect for her and her chaperon at Spa,

days. In town its drew noisome

fever heat seaside, and en route, left a balance in hand of

smells from overcharged sewers, and the black, the sum allotted for the season's expenditure

oily paste to which the shower that should that was startling in its meagreness. Mrs.
have been refreshing had changed the dust of Hunt was a capital financier, a peerless econo-
crowded thoroughfares. Cleaner pavements, mist, but the exigency taxed her resources to

iu the higher portions of the city, burued the utmost.

through shoe-soles glass radiated heat to po-
;
lished stone, and stone radiated, in its turn, to
brick, that waited until the evening to throw
off its surplus caloric in hot, suffocating
that made yet more oppressive the close nights.
The gay procession of fashionable humming-
birds had commenced their migrations, steam-
boats and excursiou-craft multiplied at the
wharves, and the iron steed put forth
tremendous might to bear onward the long
train of self-exiled travellers.
The Hunts, too, must leave town; Lucy
must, at all events, season, and a
have a full
brilliant one, if possible, for was her second it
sammer, and much might depend upon it.
Her mother would accompany her, of course
and equally of course her father could not
that is, he must return after escorting them to
Saratoga, and spend the remainder of the warm
months at home. His business would not al-
low him to take an extended vacation. The
boys were easily disposed of, being boarded
every summer at the farmhouse of an early
friend of Mr. Hunt's, where they were accept-
able inmates, their clothes as well cared for as
they were at home, and their morals more dili-
gently cultivated. The younger girls caused
that excellent manager, their mother, more
perplexity. This was not the first time she
had repented her indiscretion in allowing Sarah
to "come out" before her elder sister had
"gone off." But "Sarah was so tall and so
womanly in her appearance that it looked queer,
and would kept her
set people to talking if I
One morning she arose with a lightened heart
and a smoother brow. " I 've settled it 1" she
exclaimed to her husband, shaking him from
waves his matutinal doze.
The "Eureka!" of the Syracusan mathema-
was not mre lofty in its exultation.
tician
Forthwith she unfolded to him her scheme.
She was a native of New Jersey, "the Jarseys"
all his she had heard it called in her father's house
had probably thus denominated the gallant
littleState herself in her girlhood. In and
around the pretty, quiet village of Shrewsbury
there were still resident scores of her relatives
whose very names she had sedulously forgot-
ten. One alone she could not, in conscience
or in nature, dismiss to such oblivion. This
was her elder and only sister, long married to I
a respectable and worthy farmer, and living
within a mile of the "old place," where both
sisters had drawn the first breath of life. Twice
since Mrs. Hunt had lived in the city had this
kind friend been summoned on account of the
dangerous illness of the former, and her pre-
sence and nursing had restored peace, order,
and health to the household. The earlier of
these occasions was that of the second child's
birth, and mood of her conva-
in the softened
lescence Mrs. Hunt had bestowed upon the
babe hef sister's name
Sarah Benson
homely appellative she had ofttimes regretted
since. At distant and irregular intervals, one,
two, three years, Mr. or Mrs. Benson visited
their connections in "York;" but the intei^
course grew more and broken as time
diflicult

b.T,ck, " she was accustomed to excuse her im- rolled on and the distance widened between the
politic move to her friends. This summer she plain country folk and their rising relations.
realized, as she had not done before, tlie incon- Then, again, death had been busy in the farm-
venience of having two full-fledged young house coffin after coffin, of varying lengths.
;

152
 "husks. 153

l>at all short, was lifted over the threshold and to you to see and hear you whenever 1 talk to
laid awav iu the village graveyard, until but you of my plans and household affairs. You
oue was left to the parents of the seven little look as if you was about to be hanged, instead
ones that had been given to them, and to that of feeling obliged tome for turning, and twist-
oue nature had denied the gifts of speech and ing, and contriving, and studying, ilay and
hearing. Grief and the infirmities of approach- night, how to save your money, and spend
ing old age disinclined the worthy pair to stir what we must lay out to the best advantage.
from home, and their ambitious sister was too I can tell you %vhat
there 's few women would
basy iu building up a "set" of her own, and make your income go as far as I do."
])aving the way for her daughters' distinction, " 1 know that, my dear. The question is"
to hide her light for ever so short a period in Mr. Hunt paused, cleared his throat, and
so obscure a corner as her former home. strained his nerves for a mighty effort, an un-
Aunt Sarah, however, could not forget her precedented exercise of moral courage "the
nursliug. Every few mouths there arrived question is, Betsy, whether our income is
some simple token of affectionate remembrance stretched iu the right direction!" Mist.aking
to '"the child" she had not seen since she wore the stare of petrified incredulity he received for
short frocks and pinafores. The reception of a fixed attention, the infatuated man went on
basket of thus dispatched, was the sug-
fruit, "This doubt is always forced upon me when
gestive power to Mrs. Hunt's present plan. we separate iu July, some to go to one place,
She had made up her mind, so she informed some to another, a broken, wandering family
her husb.ind straightway, to write that very for months together. I am growing old, ."ind I

day yes that very forenoon, to " Sister Ben-
! love to have my children about me ; I begin to
son," and inquire whether she would board feel the want of a home. There is Johnson, in
Sarah and Jeannie for a couple of months. the Bank, gets five hundred less per
" I don't s'pose she will let me pay board for annum than I do ; yet, after living quietly here
them, but she will be pleased to have 'em as a few years, he bought himself a snug cottage up
long as they like to stay. It 's never been the river, and has his family there in their own
exactly convenient for me to let any of the house, everything handsome and comfortable
children go there for so many years, and it 's about them. I have been in the harness for a
so fur off. But dear me ! sometimes I feel real long while I expect to die in it. I don't mind
;

bad about seeing so little of my only sister 1"

work hard work but it seems to me some- I

a heavy sigh. " And there '11 be the expenses times that we would all be better satisfied if

of two saved, out and out, for they won't need we had more to show, or rather to hold, for our
a great variety of clothes in that out-of-the-way money if there were less of this straining after
;

place." appearances, this constant study to make both

" But how will the girls, Sarah and Jeannie, ends meet."
fancy being sent off so?" inquired Mr. Ilunt. " And it has come to this !" Mrs. Hunt sank
"Oh, as to that, it is late in the day for my into a chair, and began to cry. " This is my
diildren to dispute what / say shall be done ;
thanks for slaving .and toiling for better than
and Sarah 's jest that odd that she '11 like this twenty years to get you and your children a
notion twenty times better than going to New- stand in the world It isn't for myself that I
!

port or Saratoga. I know her As to Jeannie, ! care. I my

fingers to the bone, and
can work
the is satisfied to be with her sister anywhere. live upon a crust I can scrape .and save five
!

She is getting thin, too she looks real peakdd,

; dollars or so a month I can bury myself in !

and there 's nothing in creation so good for ail- the country But your children those dear,
I 1

ing children as the salt-water bath. They have sweet girls that have had the best education
first-rate still-water bathing not a quarter of a money can buy, and that to-day visit such
mile from sister's. It 's jest the thing, I tell people as the Murr.ays, and Sandersons, and
you ! The wonder is it never came into my head Hoopers, and Baylors, and meet the Castors
before." and Crinnalls at parties millionaires, all of
Mr. Hunt had his sigh now. " Somehow or 'em, the cre.am of the upper crust ! I don't
other he w,is always down in the mouth when deny that I have been ambitious for them, and
tJiefamily broke up for the summer," his wife I did hope that you had something of the same

frequently complained, and his lack of sympa- spirit and now to think of your complaining,
;

thy now excited her just ire. and moping, and groaning over the money you
" Upon my word, Mr. H. anybody would ! say I 've been and wasted Oh oh oh !" ! ! 1

Ihiiik that I was the poorest wife iu the world "You misunderstood me, my dear I merely ;
154 QODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZIXK.

questioned whether we ^ere acting wisely in Aunt Sarah wrote promptly and cordially,
making so much display upon so little sub- rejecting the olTered compensation, and begging
stance. We are not millionaires, whatever may forher nieces' company as long as they could
be said of the girls' visiting acquaintances, Sim-
content themselves in so retired a place.
and I tremble sometimes to think bow all this ple-minded as she was, she knew enough to be
false show may end." sure that the belles and beaux of the neighbor-
Mr. Hunt's borrowed courage had not evapo- hood would be very unsuitable mates for her
rated entirely. expected visitors. If her own girls had lived,
"That's distrusting Providence, Mr. H. ! she would have asked nothing higher for them
downright sinful, and what I shouldn't
It 's in this world than to have them grow up re-
have looked for from yon. I can tell you how spected, beloved, and happy, among the ac-
it will end. If both of us live ten years longer, quaintances and friends of their parents but ;

you your daughters riding in their own

will see " Sister Betsy's children had been raised so
carriages, and leaders of the tonrf, and your differently!" she said to her husband. "I
sons among the first gentlemen of the city. If don't know what we will do to amuse them."
this does not turn out true, you needn't ever "They will find amusement never fear,"
trust my
word again. I 've set my head upon was the farmer's response. " Let city folks
getting Lucy off my hands this summer, and alone for seeing wonders where those that have
well off: and, mark my words, Mr. H., it shall lived among them all their lives never found
be done."' anything uncommon. They are welcome to the
One part of her mother's prophecy was ful- pony whenever they've a mind to ride, and
Sarah's manner of receiving the propo-
iilled in Jim or I will find time to drive them around
sition so nearly affecting her comfort daring a'most every day and what with riding, and
;

the summer. Lucy wondered at the cheerful boating, and bathing, I guess they can get rid
alacrity with which she consented to be " hid- of the time."
den away in that horrid bore of a farmhouse," Before the day set for the coming of the
aud Jeannie cried as her elder sister "supposed guests there appeared upon the stage an unex-
that they would eat in Aunt Sarah's kitchen, pected and welcome ally to Aunt Sarah's bene-
along with the servant-men." volent designs of making her nieces' sojourn
"Lucy, be quiet!" interposed her mother. agreeable. This personage we will let the good
" Your aunt is not a common poor person. Mr. woman herself describe.
Benson is a man of independent means, quite " You needn't trouble yourself to fix up for

rich for the country. They live very nicely, tea, dear," she said to Sarah, the afternoon of
and I have no doubt but that your sisters will her arrival, as she prepared to remove her travel-
be happy there." ling-dress. " There 's nobody here besides hus-
Sarah had drawn Jeannie to her, and was band, and me, and Charley, except husband's
telling her of the rides and walks they would nephew, Philip Benson, from the South. He
take together, the ducks and chickens they comes North 'most every summer, and never
would feed, and the merry plunges in the salt goes back without paying us a visit. He 's
water that were to be daily luxuries. Ere the been here three days now. But he is just as
recital was concluded, the child was impatient easy as an old shoe, and sociable as can be, so
for the hour of departure, and indignant when you won't mind him."
she heard that Aunt Sarah must be heard from "Uncle Benson has relatives at the South,
before they could venture to present them- then ?" said Sarah, seeing herself called upon
selves, bag and baggage, at her door. There to say something.
was nothing feigned in Sarah's satisfaction ;
"One brother James. He went to Georgy
her preparations were made with far more plea- when he wasn't more than sixteen years old,
sure than if she were to accompany Lucy. The and has lived there ever since. He married a
seclusion that would have been slow death to rich wife, I believe" sinking her voice "and
the latter was full of charms for the book-lov- has made money fast, I 've heard. Philip
ing sister. Aunt Sarah would be kind the ; never says a word about their wealth, but his
novel phases of human nature she would meet father owns a great plantation, husband
for
would amuse and interest her aud, besides ; asked him how many Then
acres they worked.
these, there was Jeannie to love and pet, and the children there are four of them have had
river, field, and grove for studies and society. fine educations, and always spend money freely.
She panted for the country and liberty from the Philip is not the sort to boast of anything that
tyrannous shackles of city customs. belongs to him or his. He is a good-hearted
 "husks." 155

boy. He was here the August iny last daugh- quietly upon its surface, and the white cottages
ter my Betsy died, and I shall never forget, along the banks, while the banks themselves,
how kind and tender he wa.s tlien. I can't look with their tufts and crowns of foliage, drooping
athim without thinking how my Alick would willows and lofty elms, found a faithful yet a
have been just his ago if ho had lived. Ouo beautified counterpart in the stream. The re-
was born on the fourth and the other the fifth flectedblush of the crimson west upon its bo-
of the s.ime April." som was shot with flickers of golden light, and
Keeping up a decent show of interest in these faded in the distance into the blue-gray twi-
family details, Sarah divested Jeannie of her light. The sir seemed to grow more deliciously
sacque and dress, and substituted a cool blue cool as the gazer thought of the hot, pent-up
gingham and a muslin apron. Then, as the city, and beds of thyme and lavender added
child w.as wild to run out of doors, she suffered their evening incense.
her to go, charging her not to pass the boun- The hum of cheerful voices joined pleasantly
dary of the yard fence. Aunt Sarah was dressed with the soothing influences of the hour, and,
ill a second mourning de laine, with a very changing her position slightly, Sarah beheld
p^iin cap, and while the heat obliged Sarah to the speakers. Upon a turfy mound, at the foot
lay aside the thick and dusty garment she had of an apple-tree, sat .Jeannie beside a gentle-
worn all day, she had too much tact to offer a man, whose hands she watched with pleased
strong contrast in her own attire to her unjire- interest, as did also a boy of fifteen or there-
tendiug surroundings. A neat sprigged lawn, abouts,- who knelt on the grass before them.
modest and inexpensive, was not out of place JiiAr.ah divined at once that this was her aunt's
.luiong the old-fashioned furniture of her cham- deaf and dumb son. The gentleman was appa-
ber, nor in the "best room," to which they rently interpreting to Jeannie all that passed
jireseutly descended. between himself and the lad, and her gleeful
Aunt Sarah ushered her into the apartment laugh showed it to be a lively dialogue. Could
with some stilfness of ceremony. In truth, she this be Mr. Benson's nephew, the beardless
was not herself there often, or long enough to youth Sarah had pictured him to herself from
feel quite at ease, her property though it was. Aunt Sarah's description? He could not have
Alleging the necessity of "seeing to the tea," been less than sis-and-twenty, had dark liair
-he bade her niece "make herself at home," and a close, curling beard, an intelligent, hand-
threw open a blind that she "might see the some face, and notwithstanding his loose sum-
river," and left her. mer sack and lounging attitude, one discerned
First, Sarah looked around the room. It was plainly traces of uncommon grace and strength
large and square, and had four windows, two in his form.
ill front and two in the rear. The floor was "What is he, I wonder? A gallant profes-
<overed by a well-saved carpet, of a pattern so sional beau, who will entangle me in my speech,
antique that it was in itself a curiosity ; heavy and be an inevitable appendage in the excur-
tables of a maliogany dark with age upright ; sions ? I flattered myself I would be safe from
i-hairs, with slippery leathern seats a pon- ; all such drawbacks," thought Sarah, in genu-
derous covered with haircloth small mir-
sofa, ; ine vexation, as she obeyed her aunt's sum-
rors, with twisted frames, between the win- mons to tea.
dows two black profiles, of life-size, over the
; Perhaps Mr. Benson read as much in her
mantel, and in the fireplace a jar of asparagus countenance, for, beyond a few polite, very
lioughs, were appointments that might have unremarkable observations, addressed to her
repelled the looker-on, but for the scrupulous, when his hosts made it a necessity for him t"
shining cleanliness of every article. It was do he paid her no visible attention during
so,
a scene so strange to Sarah that she could the whole evening. The nest day he set off.
not but smile as she withdrew her eyes and the minute breakfast was over, with his gun
turned to the landscape commanded by her and game-bag, and was gone until sunset.
window. Sarah sat at her chamber window as he came
The sight changed the gleam of good-humored up to the back door and, screened by the
;

amusement to one of more heartfelt pleasure. vine trained over the sa.sh, she watched him
iH'yond the grassy walks and flower-borders of as he tossed his game-bag to Charley and shook
the garden behind the house lay green mea- hands with Jeannie, who ran up to him with
dows, sloping down to tlie river, broad and the familiarity of an old acquaintance.
smooth ,at this point, so placid now that it mir- " Wh.at luck?" questioned liis uncle.
rore'l every ropo and seam of the sails resting "Nothing to boast of, sir; yet enough to
VOL. LXVI. 13
156 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AXD ilAGAZI^E.

repay me for my tramp. I have been dowu to seasoned with contempt. She kept down fi^e
the shore." and scora, however, when Mr. Benson accosted
"Philip Benson! Well, you beat every- her with the tritest of remarks upon the pro-
thing I suppose you have walked as much
! bable heat of the day in town as contrasted
as ten miles in all!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah, with the invigorating breeze, with its faint,

with a sort of reproachful admiration. deliciotis sea flavor, tliat rustled the grapevines
"I dare say, madam, and am none the worse and fluttered the white curtains at the dining-
for it to-night. I am getting used to your room door and windows. Her answer was not
sand, uncle ; it used to tire me, I confess." exactly gracious, but it advanced the one
He disappeared into the kitchen, probably tempting step beyond a mere reply.
to perfoi-m the ablutions needful after his day's Thus was the ice broken, and for the rest of
walk and work, for it was several minutes be- the meal. Aunt Sarah and " Uncle Nathan"
forehe returned. Charley had carried the as he requested his nieces to style him had
game-bag to the mound under the tree, and respite from the duty of active entertainment,
was exhibiting its contents mostly snipe and so far as conversation went. To Sarah's sur-
red-winged blackbirds to his little cousin. prise, Mr. Benson talked to her almost as he
"It is refreshing to see something in the would have done to another man. He spoke
shape of man that is neither an eOeminate of notable persons, places, and books things

dandy nor a business machine," soliloquized of which she had heard and read without
Sarah. "Ten miles on foot! How I would atfectatiou of reserve or a shade of pretension ;

like to set that task for certain of our Broadway and to her rejoinders briefand constrained for
exquisites !"
awhile then, as she forgot herself in her sub-
"She a bit like a city girl I" Aunt Sarah
isn't ject, pertinent, earnest, salient, he gave more
was saying, as she followed Philip into the than courteous heed. It was the uuaft'ected
outer air. interest of an inquirer the entire attention of
;

'
' I am glad to hear that she is likely to be a one who felt that he received more than he
nice companion for you, madam. I thought, gave.
from her appearance, that you would suit each They parted for bow and a
the night with a
other," was the reply, certainly respectful smile that was with each a mute acknowledg-
enough, but whose lurking accent of dry indif- ment of pleasure derived from the companionship
ference sent the blood to Sarah's face. of the other; andif neither looked forward to the
Hastily withdrawing from the open window, meeting of the morrow as a renewal of congenial
and beyond the reach of the voices that dis- intercourse, both carried to their rest the etfects
cussed her merits, she waited to recover equa- of an agreeable surprise in the events of the
nimity before going down stairs. In vain she evening.
ehided herself for her sudden lieat. Mortified
she was, and even more ashamed of herself
than angry with the cool young man who had
pronounced her to be a fitting associate for her
CHAPTER IV.
excellent but unpolished aunt. While his A WEEK had p.issed since the arrival of the
every look and intonation bespoke the educated city nieces at the farmhouse. An early tea,
gentleman, a being as ditlerent in mental as in one of Aunt Sarah's generous and appetiEiug
physical muscle from the fops who formed her repasts, was over and through the garden, out
;

sister's train, had he weighed her against the at the gate that terminated the middle walk,
refined women of his own class and clime, and and across the strip of meadow-land, dauced
adjudged her this place ? At heart she felt tlie Charley and Jeannie, followed at a more sedate
injustice, and, stimulated by the sting, arose pace by Philip Benson and Sarah. Seven
the resolve that he should learn and confess d.ays' rustication had wrought a marked change
liis error. Kot tamely or willingly would she in the town-bred girl. There was a lighter I
accept an ignoble station at the hands of one bound in her step, and in her cheek a clear,
whom she inwardly recognized as capable of pink glow, while her eyes looked softly, yet
a true valuation of what she esteemed worthy. brightly, from out the shadow of her gypsy hat.
She looked haughty, not humbled, when she a look of half surprise, half confidence in her
took her seat opposite her critic at the tea-table. companion's face.
"A nice companion," she was saving over to "One week ago," he was saying, "how
herstlf. The very phrase, borrowed, as it was, firmly I made up my mind that you and I could
from Aunt Sarah's voeabalarv. seemed to her never be anytliing but strangers to each other
 UUSKS. 157

How I coming down here to

dUIiked yon for affection ; the joy of reunion after long separa-
iuterfiTe with ray libertyand leisure !" tion from the beloved one ; the bliss of recon-
" Bat even then you thought that I wonld ciliation after estrangement. Have you ever
prove a 'nice companion,' for Aunt Sarah per- thought how much happier we would be if wo
ceived my suitableness to Lersooiety," was the were to live only in the Now we have, and
demure reply. never strain onr eyes with searchings for the
" Who told yon that I said so ?" lights and shades of what may be before us, or
" Not Aunt Sarah herself, although she with mournful looking' after what is gone ?"
'

considered it honest praise. I overheard it
accidentally from my window, and I can assure
you properly appreciated the compliment,
which, by the way, was more in the tone than
the words."
"Vet is this possible?" asked Sarah, ear-
nestly. " Does not the very constitution of
our natures forbid it ? To me that would be
a miserably tame, dead-level existence over
which Hope sheds no enchanting illusions like ;

" And you were thereby piqued to a different this river, as we saw it three days ago, cold
style of behavior. Bravo did ever another ! and sombre as the rain-clouds that hung above
seed so worthless bring forth so rich a harvest ? it. no give me anything but the chill,
1

I am glad I said it. Here is the boat." neutral tint of such a life as thousands are con-
It was a pretty little affair Charley's pro- tent to lead people who expect nothing, fear
perty and care, and he was already in his seat nothing I had almost said, feel nothing 1"
.tt the bow, oar in hand. Philip helped Sarah " That because every principle of your
is

in, placed Jeannie beside her, and stationing being is at war with commonplaces. Tell me
himself upon the middle bench took up a second frankly. Miss Sarah, did you ever meet another
pair of oars. A noiseless dip of the four, and woman who had as much character as your-
the craft glided out into the stre.am, then np self?"
against the tide, the water rippling into a foamy " I do not know that I understand the full

wake on either side of the shai-p bow. A row tearing of your question." She leaned on the
was now the regular sequel to the day's enjoy- side of the boat, her hand playing in the w.-iter,
ments, and to Jeannie, at least, the climax of her lips working in an irresolute timidity that
its pleasures. was oddly at variance with their habitual firm-
" Pull that way, please, Mr. Benson !" she ness.
cried. "There! right through that beautiful " I am aware," she began, slowly and gravely,
red water !
"that I express myself too strongly at times;
A sweep brought them to the spot
skilful that I am more
abrupt in language and action
designated, but the crimson deserted the wave than most other girls. I have always been
as they neared it, and left dull gray in its told so bat it is natural to me.
; My character
stead. has many rough and sharp edges that need
" It is too bad !" complained the child, point- softening and rounding
ing back to the track of their boat, quivering " In order to render you one of the pretty
amidst the fickle radiance she had thought to automatons, the well-draped, thoroughly-oiled
reach by this change of course. " It is behind pieces of human clockwork that decorate men's

us and before us everywhere but where we
homes falsely so called in these days of gloss
are!" and humbug !" interrupted Philip with energy.
"Is there a moral in that?" questioned "lam sick to death of the dollish 'sweet crea-
Philip, smiling .at Sarah. tures' every boarding-school turns out by the
"Perhaps so." score. I understand all the wires that work

Afortnight before, how assured wonld have

the dear puppets flatter myself that I can put
been her reply How gloomy her recognition
! them through their paces (excuse the slang !)
of tlie analogy Changed as was her mood, a
1 in as short a time as any other man of my age
shade fell over her countenance. Was it of in the country. The delightful divinities ! A
apprehension, and did Philip thus interpret it ? little music, and a French a skim-
little less ;

" I could not love Life and this fair world as ming of the arts and sciences and it is a rare ;

I do, if I conceded this to be universally true," thing to meet one who can tell an art from a
he said. "That there comes, sometimes, a science ten days after she has graduated
glory to the present, beside which the hues of stock of pet phrases all hyperbolical, conse-
past and future fade and are forgotten, I must quently unmeaning a glib utterance of the
and will believe. seems to me, must
Such, it same a steady devotion to
; balls, beau-catch-
be the rapture of reciprocal and acknowledged ing, gossip, and fancy-work ; voili the modern
158 godet's lady's book and magazine.

Ene lady the stuff we are expected to make light upon the river. For the first time within
wives of! Wives! save the mark! I never the reach other memory her heart rested.'
think of the possibility of being thus ensnared In the smile whose overflowing gave a tender
without an involuntary repetition of a portion loveliness to her features, Philip saw the effect
of the Litany 'From all such, etc. etc. !' " he had wished and anticipated, and, motioning
He renewed activity for a
plied his oars with to Charley to let the boat drift with the current,
moment, then suspended them to continue, in he picked up the guitar, that, by Sarah's re-
a softer tone : "And this is the representative quest, was always taken along in these excur-
woman of your Utopia, Miss Sarah?" sions.
" Did I intimate, much less assert, such a "The dew ia on the blossom,
heresy ?" responded she, laughing. But there '
'
And the young moon on the sea:

is a golden mean somewhere a union of gen- It is the twilight hour

The hour for yon and me ;

tleness and energy ; of domestic and literary

The time when memory lingers
taste ; of independence and submission. I Across life's dreary track,
liave seen such in my day dreams. She is my When the past floats up before us,

Ideah" And the lost comes stealing back."

" Which you will one day embody. No It was a love song, inimitable in its purity

reproachful looks ! This is the sincerity of a and tenderness, with just the touch of sadness
friend. I have promised never to flatter you that insured its passage to the heart. Sarah's
again, and do not violate the pledge in speaking smile was softer, but it i+as a smile stil!, as the
thus. From my boyhood, I have made human melody arose on the quiet air. When the bal-
ur.ture my study, and it would be hard to con- lad was concluded, she only said "Another, :

vince me that I err in this case." please !"

"You do! indeed you do!" exclaimed Sarah, Philip sang more than well. Without extra-
with a look of real pain. "I lack the first ordinary power, his voice had a rich and flexible
diaracteristic of the portrait 1 have drawn. I quality of tone and a delicacy of expression
ainuot geutle ! Ineverwas. I fear that I never that never failed to fascinate. To the r.apt and
will be!" listening girl it seemed as if time could bring
" Let us hear a competent witness on that no more delicious fate than thus to glide on
head. Jeannie !" to the child, who was busy ever upon this empurpled, enchanted stream,
spelling on her fingers to Charley his nods ; the summer heavens above her, and, thrilling
and smiles to her, from the far end of the boat, ear and soul, the witching lullaby that rocked
being' more intelligible to her than were her her spirit to dreams of the youth she had never
attempts to signal her meaning to him. "Jean- had, the love for which she had longed with all
nie !" repeated Philip, as he caught her eye. the wild intensity, the fervent yearning, her
" Come, and whisper in my ear which of your deep heart could feel.
sisters you love the best. Maybe I won't tell Still they floated on with the receding tide,

tales out of school to the one you care least for." its low washing against the sides of their boat
" I don't care who knows !" said the saucy, filling up the pauses of the music. The burn-
but affectionate child. " Sis' Lucy is the pret- ing red and gold of the sky cooled into the
tiest,and she never scolds me either ; but she mellower tints of twilight, and the i>ale curve
doesn't make my clothes, and tell me nice of the young moon shone with increasing lustre.
stories,and help me with my lessons, and all Jeannie fell asleep, her head upon her sister's

that, you know. She isn't my dear, best sis- lap the dumb boy sat motionless as stone, his
;

ter!" And, springing up suddenly, she threw dark eyes fixed on the moon there seemed ;

her arms around Sarah's neck, with a kiss some spell upon the little party. Bo.it after
that answered the question with emphasis. boat passed them, almost noiselessly, for far
Sarah's lip trembled. The share of affection into the clear evening went the tones of the
she had hitherto dared to claim as her own had singer's voice, and the dullest hearer could not
barely sufficed to keep her heart from starving withhold the tribute of admiriug silence until
Outright. She had often dreamed of fulness of beyond its reach.
love as a stay and comfort, as solace and nutri- And Sarah, happy in the strange, restful
ment in a world whose wrong side was ever languor that locked her senses to all except the
turned to her. Now there daiyned upon her blessed present, dreamed on, the music but a
the sweetness and beauty of a new revelation, part of her ideal world, this new and beautiful
the hliss of loving and being beloved. Over life. Into it stole presently a theme of sadness,
life floated a warm, purple tinge, like the sunset a strain of grief, a heart-cry, that, ere she was
 nusKs. 159

aw.ire, wruug her own heart-strings with au- that of the tide. Nothing was said until the
gaUh. keel grated upon the shelly beach opposite the
"The loQg, long, wcnry dny farmhouse. Then, as Philip stooped to lift the
Ib passed in tears away, unconscious Jeanuie, he imagined that he dis-
AdJ ^(ill at evening I am wcepinsr. cerned the gleam of the sinking moon upon
Whea from my window's hei^fhc
Sarah's dripping eyelashes.
I look out ou the Di^ht,
I htill am weeping, The fancy pursued him after he had gone up
My lone watch keeping. to his room. Seated at his window, looking
" When I. his trnlh to prove,
out upon the now starlit sky, he smoked more
Would trifle with aiy love, than one cigar before his musing fit was ended.
He'd s:iy, *For mc thou wilt be weeping, It was not the love-reverie of a smitten boy.
When, at some future day, He believed that he had passed that stage of
I away;
shall be fur
seutimentalism ten years before. That South-
Thou wilt be weeping.
Thy lone watch keeping.* erner of the male gender who has not been
"Alas! if land or sea
consumed by the fires and arisen as good as
Had parted him from me, new from the ashes of half a dozen never-dying
1 would not these sad tears be weeping ; passions before he is eighteen, who has not
Bat hope he 'd coinc once more, offered the heart and hand, which as often as
And love me as before;
otherwise constitute his chiefest earthly posses-
And say, 'Cease weeping.
Thy lone watch keeping sions, to some elect fair one by the time he is
I'

one-and-twenty, is voted "slow" or invulner-

**
Bat he is dead and gone.
able. If these susceptible sons of a fervid clime
Whose heart was mine alone,
Aud now for him 'm sadly weeping. 1
did not take to love-making as naturally as
His face 1 ne'er shall see. does a duckling to the pond by the time the
And naught is left to mo eggshell is fairly oflf of its head, they would
But bitter weeping.
certainly be initiated while in the callow state
My lone watch keeping."
by the rules and customs of society. Courtship
Ifever a pierced and utterly hopeless soni is then an art, then, when
at first a pastime,
poured forth its plaint in musical measure, it the earnestness of a real attachment takes hold
was in the wondrously simple and unspeakably of their impassioned natures, it is the one all-
plaintive airto which these words are set. absorbing, eager pursuit of existence, until
There breathes in it a spirit wail so mouniftilly rewarded by the acquisition of its object or
sincere that one recognizes its sob in the very thwarted by the decided refusal of the hard-
chords of the accompaniment. The mere mur- hearted Dulcinea.
mur of the melody, were no words uttered, tells This state of things, this code of Cupid, every
the story of grieving desolation. Southern girl understands, and shapes her con-
Sarah did not move or speak, yet upon her duct accordingly. Sportively, yet warily, she
enchanted ground a cloud had fallen. She saw plays around the hook, and he is a very for-
the high casement and its tearful gazer into the tunate angler who does not in the moment of
night, a night not of music, and moonlight, fancied success discover that she has carried
I and love, but chill, and wet, and dreary. Rain oil the bait as a trophy upon which to feed her
dripped from eaves and trees stone steps and ; vanity, and left him to be the laughing-stock
pavements caught a ghastly gleam from street- of the curious spectators of this double game.
lamps save that sorrowful watcher, there was
; She is imperturbable to meaning iijuivoques,
no living creature abroad or awake. She grew receives pretty speeches and tender glances at
cold and sick with looking into those despairing their current value,and not until the suit be-
eyes ;the gloom, the loneliness, the woe of comes close and ardent, the attachment palpa-
that vigil became her own, and her heart sank ble to every one else, and is confessed in so
swooning beneath the burden. many words, does she allow herself to be per-^
As he ceased the song, Philip lookM np for Euaded that her adorer is "in earnest," and
some comment or request. To his surprise, really desires to awaken a sympathetic emotion
she only clasped her hands in a gesture that in her bosom.
might have been either relief from or abandon- Philip Benson was no wanton trifler with
ment to woe, and bowed her head upon them. woman's feelings. On the contrary, he had
Puzzled, yet flattered by her emotion, he re- gained the reputation in his circle of an invin-
frained from interrupting her and, resuming ; cible, indifferent looker-on of the pseudo and
his oars, lent the impetus of their stroke to real combats, in Love's name, that were con-
13*
 160 GODEY S LADY 3 BOOK AND JIAGAZIXE.

tinually transpiring around him. Chivalrous he was endeavoring to win this young girl's

in tone, gallant in action, ashe was, the girls affections, his heart being as yet untouched.
feared while they liked and admired him. " Was it then altogether whole ?" he asked
They called him critical, fastidious, cold and ; himself to-night, with a coolness that should
mockingly wondered why he persisted in going have been aa immediate reply to the sugges-
into company that, judging the future by the tion.
past^ was so unlikely to furnish him with the Side by side, he set two mental portraits,
consort he must be seeking. In reality, he and strove deliberately, impartially to discern
was what he had avowed himself to Sarah any traces of resemblance between the two.
student of human nature an amateur in this ; The future Mrs. Benson was a personage that
species of social research than which no other engrossed much of his thoughts, and by long
so frequently results in the complete deception practice in the portrayal of her lineaments, he
of the inquirer. Certainly no other is so apt had brought his fancy sketch very nearly to
to find its culmination of devotion in a cold- perfection. A tall, Juno-like figure, with raven
blooded dissection of motive, morals, and sen- locks and large, melting eyes, unfathomable as
timent ; an unprincipled, reckless application clear ; features of classic mould an elastic, ;

of trial and test to the hearts aud lives of its yet stately form ; a disposition in which amia-
victims and final infidelity in all human good, bility tempered natural impetuosity, and gene-
except what is concentrated in the inspector's rous impulse gave direction to gentle word and
individu.al, personal self. Grown dainty amid deed a mind profoundly imbued with the
;

the abundant supply of ordinary material, he love of learning, and in cultivation, if not
comes at length to disdain common " subjects." strength, equal to his own ; discretion, pene-
would he touch one already loathsome
Still less tration, and docility combined in such propor-
in the popular estimation, through excess of tions as should render her her husband's safest
known aud actual crime. But a character fresh and controlling
counsellor, yet willing follower;
and noble from the Creator's hand a soul that ; and toning the harmonious whole, a devotion
dares to think and feel according to its innate to himself only second in degree, not inferior
sense of riglit an intellect unhackneyed, not
; in quality, to worship of her Creator. This was
vitiated by worldly policy or the dogmas of the the Ideal for whose embodiment our reasonable,
schools a heart, tender and delicate yet pas-
; modest Ccelebs was patiently waiting. Answer,
sionate in love or abhorrence what an oppor- ; ye expectant, incipient Griseldas who, from !

tunity is here presented for the scalpel, the your beauteous ranks, will step into the pre-
detective acid, the crucible, the microscope ! pared niche, and make the goddess a Eeality ?
It is not in fillible mortality to resist the temp- And how appeared the rival picture in com-
tation, and even professors of this enuobling parison ?

pursuit, whose motto is, "The proper study of "Xo, no!" he ejaculated, tossing the rem-
mankind is Man," are, as they allow with nant of his third cigar into the garden. "I
shame and confusion of face, themselves mortal. must seek further for the golden mean.' In- '

Of all the dignified humbugs of the solemn farce tellect and heart are here, undoubtedly. I

of life, deliver me from that creature self-styled must have beauty and grace as well. Yet."
"a student and judge of character !
he continued, relentingly, "there are times
In Sarah Hunt, Philip discovered, to his sur- when she would be quite handsome if she
prise, a rare"specimen ;" a volume, each leaf dressed better. It is a pity her love for the

of which revealed new matter of interest. The Beautiful does not enter into her choice of
attentions he had considered himself bound to wearing apparel 1"
pay her, in order to avoid wounding their kind In ten minutes more he was asleep, and
hosts, were soon rendered from a widely differ- dreamed that he stood at the altar with his
ent motive. It did not occur to him that he long sought idea, when, as the last binding
was transcending the limits of merely friendly words were spoken, she changed to Sarah Hunt,
courtesy, as prescribed by the etiquette of the arrayed in a light blue lawn of last year's fash-
region in which he was now a sojourner. He ion that made her look as sallow as a lemon,
, was, by no means, deficient in appreciation of and, to his taste, as little to be desired for
his personal gifts ; rated his powers of pleasing- "human nature's daily food."
qnite as highly as did his warmest admirers, Poor Sarah The visionary robe was a faith-
!

although he had the common sense and tact to ful reflectionupon the dreamer's mental retina
conceal this but he would have repelled, as
;
of a certain organdie which had formed a part of
an aspersion upon his honor, the charge that Lucy's wardrobe the previous summer, and.
 WIDOWS. 161

having become antiqnated in six months' time, "hems!" have taken the pl.ice of all that
was altogetber inadmissible in the belle's outfit kindly current. Not that she is the less thr
of this season. object of gener.al attention. Men love contra-
" Yet it cost an awful sum when it was new !" and even monstrosities they will go
rieties, ;

re.asoned Mrs. Hunt, "ami will make you a hundreds of miles to see the midnight sun, anil
very useful dress while you are with your crowd and push to have a peep at the Tom
aunt, Sarah. It 's too good to cut up for Thumb m.an, the five -legged sheep, or the
Jeannie !" "bearded, woman." It is perhaps as much to
" But the color, mother f" objected the un- this peculiarity of our nature as to its nobler
willing recipient. side that the j-oung widow owes the conspicn-
" Pooh who will notice that ? Besides, if
! ousness of her position. Girlhood's bloom and
you had a good complexion, you could wear the garments of mourning, the heart of youth
blue as well as anybody." and earth's sorest grief, these are combinations
Sarah's stock of thin dresses was not plenti- which cannot pass unnoticed. If a beautiful
ful ; and, recalling this observation, she coupled f.ace chiince to be within the closely quilled cap,
it with the fact that she was growing rosy, and the ch.arm is complete. Even wiseacres, who
ilared to equip herself in the azure garment, pretend to adhere to that moral nursery theory
with what effect she did not dream and Mr. "h.andsome is th.at handsome do^s"' will
Philip Benson did! be found quickening their p.ace or stretching
(To be continued.) their necks to have one look at the fair ronnd
cheeks or the dark eyes that are half shadowed
by that long veil.
"WIDOWS: PART II. Now comes the perilous time for the young
THE TOrxG WIDOW. widow. She must walk circumspectly, if she
"Thp storm th.at breaks the aged oak would escape the wounds of that venomous
But bows the slender elm." adversary, the human tongue. Critics seem to
It is .all very well while the young widow have their sorrow-metres, by which they are
goes about shrouded in her bLack garments. enabled to tell exjictly the degree of grief or
Veiled like a nun, and .as demuBe and reproach- resignation suited to this stage of her affliction,
less as the lady abbess herself. People cry and wo be unto her if she come short of the
'poor thing," and think the better of them- standard ! Alas under any provocation,
I if,

selves for their pity. But youth is stubborn she should let slip a merry word or sufier her
stuff; it will contend for its rightful share of old, girlish laugh to ring out on the telltale
no matter how it is hedged round
cJieerfulness, air j If she have a pretty foot, she must be

by sorrow and care. The poor flower, planted careful not to show it at a muddy crossing if ;

j:i some dreary, sh,ady nook, will send out jts she h.ave a white hand, it must never be un-
long stem, and crook, and beud, and fairly turn gloved on the background of her sombre gar-
a corner, till it gets its face to the sunshine, ments. There must not be a trace of v.anity or
coquetry in her deportment, though she m.ay
I ajid there it will bloom as bewitchingly as if
its and le.aves were not hidden aw.ay in
root have been a perfect bundle of these womanly
the dampness and gloom. So it is with the imperfections in her days of m.aidenhood.
human heart in the gl.id morning of life. It is - For the young widowwho feels revivingwithin

made for joy, and it knows it. Put it where her the natnr.al joyousness and craving for
yon will, cramp it with poverty, cumber it with society of her own age there seems uo place
care, rack it with sorrow, or give it weary provided. There is no rest for the sole of her
nights of pain, and it will yet smile through its foot on the social platform. She does not feel
tears, and win a sweetness out of woe. altogether in sympathy with the matrons of
The time most come when the widow in " her forty or fifty because she has been for a few
teens" will find it unnatural to be shut out months a She has few subjects of inte-
wife.
from the free, pure air of heaven. Those heavy rest in common with them. The cutting and
folds of crape seem to wall her into the desola- making of children's clothing do not seem to
tion of the living tomb they are cast aside,
; her the great end of life, with or without a
.and her young face looks out once more on the sewing-machine. She has no Jennie or Tom-
world, which to her now lies in shadow. my to dress out like a Parisian doll ; she wants
Where is the loving pity, the tender sympa- i
no new patterns for little pants, no royal road
thy that so welled up for her a twelvemonth to quilling mftles. She has no housekeeping
ago ? Winks, and nudges, and significant cares to confide she probably lives with some
;
162 godey's lady's book and magazine.

uncle, or aunt, or mother, or brother, and There are true women who have given their
knows no more of the kitchen of the establish- best affection for but a name, a fleeting shadow,
ment than of those mysterious African regions a worthless, effervescent interest that has fled
never penetrated by Park or Livingston, or before the honeymoon is over. They haw
the Frenchman who discovered (not invented) found themselves tightly linked to one wIki
Uie gorilla. When these notable ladies dis- has forfeited their every claim to respect or tht:
course about their several "lords and masters," faintest shadow of esteem. Can such wives con-
she can but sit no
a silent listener ; there is tinually mourn when the stern hand of death
centre of attraction for her now. What wonder sunders the chain that had become so galling ?
that she is a little "flighty," somewhat eccen- Everybody has a heart, speaking physiologi-
tric in her orbit ! It is plain that she is out of cally,a valuable^ apparatus, with which the
place among the bobbing headdresses and busy most ingenious mortals cannot well dispense.
knitting needles. If the young widow goes There is a finer kind of mechanism, however,
back to her olrl companions, the merry associates which we sometimes call by the same name,
of her girlhood, she finds herself no more at which is by no means so universal as the fleshly
home with them. They do not feel that she is symbol. Some poor souls come into this world
any longer one of them. She can see that they hopelessly shallow in their feelings. Whether
do not expect her to join in their plans for they are thick-skinned or thin-skinned is a
nmusement or their chatter about the beaux. matter of no moment, since there is nothing to
Her own sense of propriety, too, forbids much be shielded or covered, there are no sensibilities
to her which seems innocent for them. What to be blunted, there is nothing to be wounded.
shall she do ? Who shall be her associates ? They can't feel you might as well find fault
;

We do not forget that there are true young with a fish for his cold blood, or a mole for his
hearts ^vhich, having once loved and been left blindness, as with them for floating placid or
desolate, look upon the world as a place where simpering along the changing river of life.
tliey may give joy, but no longer receive it. Cloud or sunshine, rough water or smooth, it
On their quiet way they go, ministering to the the same to them on they go to make
is all ;

suffering and cheering the sorrowful, giving those comfortable, fat old ladies who "go to
forth to all who need the love that the one be- sleep evenings," and are never in anybody's
loved object no longer monopolizes. It is not way. What, then, is to become of those young
of these unselfish mourners we are speaking; widows who have worn mourning, but shed no
we have for them no meed of praise they are ; bitter tears, and of those other elastic spirits
sure of a better and a more enduring treasure, who have had their sorrow cured by the very
when they who bear well the cross shall receive vigor of their youtli and the upspriuging of the
tlie crown. natural wells of joy ?

We all acknowledge that we believe true They generally answer the question for them-
be the legitimate provocation to
affection to selves in the most satisfactory manner, and
matrimony by the universal estimation of the another question too at the same time, a ques-
misery and desolation of widowhood. Here, as tion which is to be "popped," bolted out if it
in most cases, the generally received theory is is ever to find its way to the intended ear or
the right one. Unfortunately, however, there the ear of the intended. They do well they ;

are cases where Hymen's torch
ofany acquaintance with Cupid, and is merely
lightedup as one might bring out a candle to
put the seal to some deed of land or other
weighty document. Women have married for
a home, for a place of shelter, for an elegant
is quite innocent have Old Testament and New, example and
precept, Ruth and Paul on their side. Young
folks will toss their heads and speak slightingly
of them, young chits whose hearts go pit-a-pat
at the sight of a handsome pair of boots and
are all in a flutter at a word from a beau. It

establishment, for freedom, for an incomparable is very unsentimental, truly ; not at all the
trousseau, to look pretty as a bride, to go to Eu- thing set down in novels I We would not put
rope, because such a man was cruelly "band- it in a book if we were writing one ourselves.
some, or rich, or the rage," and for what Yet we are glad when we see the poor things
other senseless reasons the foolish creatures find shelter in an honest man's home. The
themselves only know. They have found them- world is a rough jilace for a lone woman, and a
selves in a bondage which love only can make dangerous one, too, when she is young and
light, and the Christian heart hallow into hap- pretty, or warm-hearted. A kind, manly arm,
piness. Must such young widows grieve as if thrust between her and malicious, peering faces,
life were suddenly made all darkness for them ? is just what she needs.
 WIDOWS. 163

The young widow may marry if she be capa- We speak generally, but if you marry a wi-
and its object be wortliy
ble of a true affection, dower, the remark may be closely applicable.
of her choice, and tliere will be many kindly But a truce to giving advice. Take our best
Ood speed
people to bid her She may marry, 1 wishes, Y'oung Widow, so soon to be a wife.
but her love-making must be of the discreetest We are glad to see the wee wave-tossed,
sort there must be no moonlight walks, no
; stranded bark once more trimmed and set for
tender looks, no window-seat tele-A-Utes ; they another voyage. All fair winds attend thee,
aie barely allowable for the misses ; they will and bring thee and thine into the blessed har-
not do at all for you, Young Widow. They are bor whore " there is neither marriage nor giving
not to be forgiven no, not for many a long
; in marri.age."
year. The ill-natured public has a very tena-
cious memory don't store it with tittle-tattle
;

.bout your indiscretions. You must not bo

foolish, and blush and look conscious. If you FLOWN.
cannot help it, you had better shut yourself up
until you have a wife's right, and a husband to
CoMK with tho duster, como with the broom :

face the world for you. Do not have a long Throw all the mediciuo vials awiiy ;

engagement; you will be the "town-talk" Tp with the windows and back with the blindb
until you are married, and you may as well Lot in tho light of the glad, youiii,' day.

ajbridge as much as possible the period of your
notoriety. H.ive a tjuiet wedding, no endless
.string of bridesmaids to titter behind your back,
and be amused at your youthful airs. You
have been through it all before, and everybody
knows it. If you are conscious of the springing
of a new affection, as pure and true, and per-
haps higher and nobler th.an the first, keep this
Drape all the room iu the saintliest white
Gather fair roses to pat in the vase,
And lay one the purest of all yon brint'
Ijeside tho anow of that still, dead face.
Roll CD your flnpere her hair's pale pold,
And twine it around her forehead white;
Aud fold her still hands together, so.
That the wedding-riui,' may bo iu sight.
That ring she has worn it but one swift year.

knowledge to yourself. Don't talk about your And very happy you two have been ;

Few clouds have lowered above your world,

love for your second husband, but show its
Aud few are the griefs that have entered iu.
fruits in your home you do not want to be a
;

laughing-stock in polite circles. Your charac-

ter may have been chastened by your sorrow
you may make a far better wife than before,
but dou't tell your good resolutions let them
be found out by their fulfilment. Above all,
let him whom you h.ave chosen have reason to
rejoice that you have borne the yoke in your
youth, and have been purified by passing
through the fire.
The school-mistress is alwjiys haunted by
hints of the reguhations of the last teacher as
authority for her proceedings the more such
;
Yet you will remember you think of it now
As you press wild liisses on those mute lips,
llow once you answered not back their love,
Au'l tho thonglit will lash you like scorpion whip*;
;
You had quarrelled, you kuow, and she came first,
Tiombling with hiding her yearning lov'.-,
And yun so foolishly piqued and proud
Ivefused the kiss of your penitent dove.
But it matters not now. To-morrow the hearse.
The dirge, the grave, and the empty nest
The dark-eyed pansy, her favorite flower,
We '11 plant all around her shadowy rest.
And when in tho summer-time you are ther?.
Sit silent and breathless, that you may hear

hints she receives, the more oil of birch is

The tones of her spirit-voice, and feel
The breath from her white wings floating near.
administered to the advisers. Take warning,
and do not founder on the rock fatal to such
luckless pupils. Your first husband may have
been a saint, a model in every department of Paebnts must never put away their own
life, but don't quote him for the benefit of youth. They must never cease to be young;.
number two. Your skein of silken bonds may Their sympathies and sensibilities should lnj
seem to be winding ever so smoothly, but this always quick and fresh. They must be sus-
will be sure to bring on a snarl which it will ceptible. They must love that which God
t.ike more than patience to set right. Profit by made the child to love. Children need not
the past yourself, but let it he a "dead p.ast" only ifovernment, firm and mild, but symputliy,
for others. People never want your experience warm and tender. So long as parents are their
dug up and dissected for their benefit. Every- best and most agreeable companions, children
body has skeletons enough of his own mist.ikes are comparatively safe, even in the society of
to rattle in his ears when he wants a warning. others.

People never look well travelling iu cars
women as a rule look worse tlian men. To be
sure there is nothing particularly pleasant iu
seeing a gentleman leaning back in his seat
with his felt hat pulled over his eyes, and his
mouth open but men generally are enabled
; was fourteen, and the old house and the old
to while away the time with a magazine or
book, and jumping out at every diflerent sta-
tion to get a breath of air, or a newspaper.
But ladies cannot leave their seats they are
always thirsty they do not dress well they
; ;
look sleepy, and dusty, and dowdy, and no
matter how hungry they are they cannot eat
for surely no lady in her senses would eat
the cars, unless she was perfectly oblivious to
lier outward appearance.
etiptions to every rule. And if you had been
at the depot one fine afternoon in April, 18,
yon would have seen the neatest little figure
jump off tlie cars on the platform, and receive
a kiss from a fat, pompous, good-natured look-
ing individual ; and soon
tucked through my arm as
Ixiat. When I had found a nice
the upper deck, I sat down
we began a most interesting conversation
before I tell you what we said
who she was.
Now, when I was a young man, I was not sent
tflcollege, more 's the pity, but to a merchant's
oflice, where I commenced at the beginning,
made fires and swept out. For all that, I used
to be very fond of visiting a pretty little cousin
of mine, with long fair curls and blue eyes,
lived in a great house in the upper part of the
i2ty of New York. Time went
grew with my growth, and strengthened with
my strength, when one evening
!lll and lost. Soon after she
of bliss in life
married a Captain Evans in the Navy, and
went away beyond the seas but though lost to
me I always loved her the same and when
long years after she came back widowed to her
iShildhood's home, with her little Laura, it was
to me she ever looked for comfort and support
in her affliction and when she died she placed
;
her orphan child in my care, and made me
promise, by the memory of my love for her,
ever to be her good and true father.
I took a house, a plain old-fashioned house,
and a prim, neat housekeeper, Mrs. Brown,
who was Laura's nurse and then we three ; tions,
164
CROSS PUEPOSES.
;
lived together in a homely, contented way, my
little girl ever a gladdening sunbeam, making
the dark places light and the world all cheery.
But pleasant things cannot always last and ;
60 one day I took my L.aura to school. Sh
man must be left, and the duties of life com-
menced. How well I remember, as I stood on
the doorstep, how tightly the little arms were
; clasped around my neck, and the deep, heart-
breaking sobs which came from under a mass
of wavy brown hair, floating on my breast. I
could never have bidden the dear child to leave
in me, but she, knowing my pain, pushed me
from her, dried her te.irs, and smiled a good-by.
Now there are ex- Every succeeding vacation the bright pre-
sence filled my home, each time more beautiful,
more mischievous, more lovable and now that;
she is seated by my side, watching the water
as we glide along, there is in my heart a mea^
sureless content to know that she will not leave
I had her little hand me again, and as my heart speaks to her through
I led her off to the my eyes, and I meet her answering smile,
seat for her on through the din of the noisy crowd the low
opposite her, and
words fall on my ear "Our little parlor will
; but never see another parting, dear uncle, for yon
I must tell yon will keep me with you always."
" Always, dear child," I answer; "and God
bless you and make you h.appy with me."
Any afternoon that summer, if you were
passing my house, you would have seen the
figure of my darling as she sat in the window,
sewing and waiting for me to come home.
who There she sat and watched, and as I turned tlw;
corner of our street and came in sight, she was
on, and my love gone but a moment after she had the front
;
door open, and was ready with her warm, wel-
I ventured my coming kiss. Those days were the pleasantest
of my life, and my thoughts were all of peace
and contentment still my little girl soon
;
; drooped for want of company; she missed the
; gay companionship of her school friends she ;
missed the hum and never-ceasing noise of a
large household. Here she was, only eighteen,
in the early freshness of youth, shut up with
an old man and woman all her little confi-
dences pent up in her breast, all her wild fan-
cies and girlish dreams lost.
The young never confide in the aged nor ;
would it be natur.al. One just entering into
life is so sanguine, so full of joyous anticiprv
has such an intense enjoyment of simple
 CROSS PURPOSES. 165

tliiugs, sucli a perfect worM,

confidence in the ing with him, little mischief. You did not
Mich a capacity and appreciating
for realizing know your was looking at you."
old uncle
tlie bright, hopeful summer, basking iu the " yes his mother introduced him to me,
;

full splendor of its sunbeams with scarcely a and he has been very kind. The fact is, uncle,
thought of the coming autumn. Oh, youth, that I never knew what it was to be lonely till
thou hast gone from me forever, and left me I came here. I did not know any one but your

nothing but dreams, idle dreams of faces and friend, old Mr. Lee, and a dreadful prosy old
scenes so gradually fading away that even as I fellow he is. When I had bathed and taken a
recall them they are dim
dim from my failing walk, there was nothing to do till tea-time, and
eyesight and the thick, clouded breatli of time ! then I would rather have been alone than have
As I sat thns ruminating, one sultry summer to talk to Mr. Lee so I wandered up and down
;

evening, in my easy-chair, the half-finished the beach till I was tired, and then after tea I
cig.ir held lazily between my fingers, glancing would saunter through the parlors, then up
now and then at the white-robed figure in the and down the porch till I felt as if I couldn't
obscurity of the curtained window, and just draw another breath. I was overcome with
catching the refrain of Laura's low-toned song, eiiiiJil. I had determined the third night on

I formed a plan which, before a week elapsed, I asking Mr. Lee to send me back to the city the
saw executed. Yes, before the week was over, nest morning, and just as I thought of him, he
I had left Laura with Mrs. Brown, down at the came towards me, bringing a l.idy whom I re-
sea-shore, where she could have the advantage cognized at once as my ris-ii-vis at table ; lie

of seeing nature, the ocean, and society, which introduced her as Mrs. Grantley. I found her
latter, I thought, she needed most. very pleasant, and after we had chatted a little
Three weeks passed away in which I never while I said how dreadfully dull I tliouglit it,

ouce received a word from Laura, as I had left and how I longed to be at home but she said ;

towu on a fishing excursion with some old she would not hear of such a thing till she had
[ friends. When I returned I took the cars for tried her powers on me, and then together we
the sea-shore, and upon arriving at the nearest walked into the parlor and sat down. Just
station, very impatiently received the intelli- then the band commenced a Ljuadrille, and Mrs.
gence that I must wait
for the nest stage to the Gr.antley asked me if I would dance. Without
liouse. Atcame, and after half an hour's
last it waiting for an answer, #lie introduced me to
dusty drive, we drew up at the end of the long her son, and directly I was at the head of th*
I

porch of the hotel, when whom should I see but room, in my pl.ice, and dancing. Afterwards
Laura promenading arm in arm with a gentle- we walked out on tlie porch, then, after a plea-
man ? As I stood mutely gazing at her she sant little talk, he took me b.nck to his mother.
turned, caught sight of me, and in another in- I had no chance of seeing how he looked
liad
stant her arms were round my neck, and she while I was dancing with him, so, as he moved
h.id kissed meag.ain and again. away, stopping now and then to exchange a
When I had made myself present.able, Laura word with other little groups of persons, I scru-
and I went in to a late tea. As we walked to- tinized him closely.
gether up the long diuing-hall, every one turned " How true it is that a m;in's beauty is in the
to look at her. I thouglit she appeared to be expression of the face, not in the features ! Mr.

ta great deal dressed, and

thing of the kind she laughed, and told
when I hinted some-
me that
Grantley was not even good-looking his fea-
tures were large, his eyes black, and his hair
;

tliere was to be a "hop," she believed, that quite gray he w.as neither young nor old, but
;

night. in the prime of life his figure was large and

;

After tea we took chairs and sat out on the portly, and he stooped slightly when walking,
porch. I asked Laura, " Who was that gen- but one would hardly notice it unless it wan
tleman ?" pointed out. The expression of his face an.l
" A fiiend of mine." his whole bearing were rather stern and com-
" How came he a friend ?" manding, but when he smiled it changed him
"Oh, I don't know; I suppose because he entirely there was jierfect sunshine in it,
;

sat opposite me at table." 'twas irresistibly ple.asant, one looked at him

'
And made love to you with liis eyes while in amazement, and as the smile faded away
lie passed the peas and asparagus ?" you lost something, and could not rest till you
'
Just exactly ; how smart you are, nncle !" had provoked it again. It was his nature to
'
Well, but you must have been introduced like few persons or things, but what he liked
to him, or else I shouldn't have seen you walk- he liked well. He was not at all a lady's man,
 166 godey's lady's book and magazixe.

but he liked to converse with them, and gene- Yon only want ns to compliment you on your
rally was a favorite. Among gentlemen, and youthfuluess, etc. etc."
particularly young men, he was universally "I think you would enjoy the trip very
liked, he adapted his conversation so perfectly much, Mr. Smith," said Edward Grantley.
to the persons with whom he conversed, and " Indeed, it is not much of a voyage in a gnoil
always seemed to feel such an interest in them." ship, and it would, no doubt, be very interest-
"You surely did not find out so much about ing to Miss Laura as well as yourself."
him in that one evening ?" I said. " do, uncle !" chimed in Laura. " I want
"Yes; that is, these were my first impres- to be on
sions, and I have never seen any reason to The sea, the sea, the open sea,

change them." The blue, the fresh, the ever free

" Well, you have given him a most excellent Just to think how glorious to be where one can
clxaracter. Am I to understand he has no see no land nothing but sea and sky V'
faults ?' " And here is Miss Gardner and her brother,
" Indeed, uncle, it is hardly fair to ask me and Mary Henry going; that will be three.
such a question I suppose he has faults, but
; Edward and I are five, and you and Laura seven.
in the little time I have known him lie has Now do say you will go !" said Mrs. Grantley.
always been polite and kind. To be sure, at "0 please, Mr. Smith," resounded from all
times, I have wondered whether he really liked sides.
me or not, as sometimes he has taken great "Indeed, my dear ladies, I cannot think of
pains to be near me, going out walking with such a thing for myself; but if Mrs. Grantley
me in the morning, reading to me in the after- will take very good care of my little girl here,
noon, and promenading the porch with me in I can see no reason why she shouldn't go."

the evening ; then I might not see hira again "0, uncle, how could you think I would be
for the next day or two unless meeting him at so selfish as to leave yon at home all alone ! If

meals. But one doesn't mind that much, as you do not go, neither do I."
you know, otherwise 1 might get tired of him ;
"Yes, but. Miss Laura, it would only be
there, '
sj)eak of the spirit, the ghost will ap- three short weeks, and I 'm sure your uncle
pear.'
" would like you to go," said Miss Gardner.
Just then Mr. Granney crossed the piazza " 0, yes, do go !" insisted the others.
near us, and Laura calling him, he came up "But, Laura," said I, "the very time you
and was introduced to me. We entered into are gone, I will take to travel on business and
ironversation Laura left us and joined Mrs.
; make a visit to Mr. Lee. So now, as you see
Grantley in the parlor, where she was soon the I can enjoy myself, you won't hesitate about

centre of a little group, looking so bright and going?"

beautiful that, like a foolish old fellow that I " No if yon can arrange your plans so nicely,
;

was, I would pause in the conversation and call I 'm sure I should be delighted to go. What
Mr. Grautley's attention to her ringing laugh mouth will you st.art, Mrs. Grantley ?"
and happy and indeed he was looking her
face, " Not till the first of December, for Miss
way himself, and seemed to enjoy hearing and Gardner says that in November it is oppressively
seeing her as much as I did. warm, and the fever still raging."
After a very pleasant week,was obliged to I " Well, you know, Laura," said Mary Henry,
return to the city, and Laura would not hear "this is the last of September, and it is only
of my going home alone, so I took her with me. two months to wait. Just think how delightful
The night before we left we were all sitting in it will be to go from winter to summer The !

the parlor talking over pleasures past and of climate in the winter months at Havana is per-
anticipated meetings in the future, when Mrs. fectly delightful."
Jrantley said " Oh, I 'm sure I shall be pleased with every-
" Why can't you all go to Havana with me thing !" said Laura.
this winter ? I am obliged to go on business ;
" Particularly the sea-sickness, Miss Laura,"
and we could only make up a party, how
if said Mr. Grantley.
delightful it would be Won't you and Laura !
" That is malicious ;
you shall not dance with
join us, Mr. Smith ?" me for being so impertinent I ; only hope you
"Why, my dear madam," said I, "you may have it for the whole party. Come, unele.
would not want me
such a journey at
to take let us finish the evening with an old-fashioned
my time of life ? I should never survive it." reel."
" Now, Mr. Smith, that excuse will never do. We all stood up, and when through the
 CnOSS PURPOSES. 167

danou I told L.'iuia she must bid tliem all good- together, made calls, and if I took Laura to the
hy, for we were to stint very early iu the theatre or opera, we generally culled at Jliss
iuoruing ; so iuiiuediately there coniiiienci'd a Gardner's for Mary, who was her niece.
general leave-taking, avcouipaiiied with innu- One evening I was reading out aloud a new
merable kisses. I was lather curious to sen novel to Laura and Mary, while they wero
liow Laura would part with Mr. Grautley, but busied over some l.aces and ribbons, when there
1 could sfe him nowhere ho left the room as
; was a ring at the door, and the maid hamled in
we uommeuced dancing, and had not come b;ak. a basket of (lowers with a card for " Miss Jjanra
Just then I heard Laura say : Evans." ilury began to admire the flowws,
" You must remember me to your son, Mrs. and I to but there was not
gue.ss at the donor,
Grant ley." asiugle clue. I asked Laura if she could guess
" He will be disappointed at not seeing you, who sent them. She laughed and blushed, but
Iam sure. I wonder where he is Just wait ! said: "O, no! she could not guess, but the
one minute, and I will find him." llowers weie beautiful, and that was enough for
' Not
on any account, Mrs. Giantley. I her."
dou't want liim to come if he c.iu't come of his At length the d.ay approached for them to
own accord." sail and ou Tuesday morning, the first of
;

The next morning early we were off, and December, we were all assembled on the deck
reached home safely that evening. Altogether, of the steamer to bid adieu to the gay party.
both Laura and I thought our trip had been It was rather cold so I proposed going down iu
;

pleasant. I tried to teaze Laura about Mr. the cabin to look at their state-rooms. We all

firantley letting her go away without bidding went down and spent an hour wry pleasantly
her good-by, when she very coolly told me she in conversation, till the call came to clear the
had bid good-by to him that morning. decks, and away we went down the side of tho
"This morning!" I said; "why, Laura, where vessel, calling out little forgotten Last words.
did you see him ?" The cannon boomed over the waters, and i ight
"It was while you were attending to the gallantly the vessel glided away. I waited till

baggage. I was sitting wailing in (he stage Laura's handkerchief was no longer visible,
when Mr. Grautley came up and bid me good- and then hurried back to my office.

morning."
" Wh.at did he say ?"
"0, I believe he remarked on the beauty of LAURA'S DTAPvY.

the morning, hoped I would have a pleas.^nt
journey, and that he might have the pleasure
of calling on me in the city."
All through the months of October and No-
vember Laura w.as very busy. She took .Spanish
lessons three times a week with her
were going to Havana, and, besides, went to a
Dec. 1st. After we were well under ^'nr, and
the vessel as yet steady, Mrs. Grautley juo-
posed that we should each retire to our state-
room, take off our bonnets and cloaks, and
prepare everything in case we should be sick.
friemls who Mary Henry and I occupied a state-room opjio-
site to Mrs. Grautley and Miss Gardner the ;

great many parties. The Spanish class, I told gentlemen were several rooms distant. When
lier, I thought was a great humbug. It gene- we were in our room, I asked Mary "if she did
rally met at Miss Gardner's, a pleasant old not think Mr. Grautley was uncommonly pleas-
maid with a h.andsome brother and I used to ; ant this morning?"
call for Laura about ten o' clock in the evening, She said, "Yes, and no wonder, for he had
and scarcely ever entered the parlor without
I met an old acquaintance on board, one of the
being greeted with shouts of laughter, and loveliest-looking women she had ever seen,
there was generally a game going on, " Blind with a boy about six years old."
little
Man's Buff," or " l''ox and Geese." As for "Then I suppose she was married ?" I said,.
books, there was not a sign of them. I used to in as unconcerned a voice as I could.
think, therefore, that they had not learned " 0, yes a widow and I tl]iid< it is her cap
;

luuch but Mrs. Grautley assured m that the

; that makes her so bewitching."
young folks behaved very well during the lesson, "A widow Then it is Mrs.
I Kills. I have-
and these games were only the winding up of often heard him speak of her.
the evening. "Why," said Mary, "if that is Mrs. Ellis,
Laura and Mary Henry becamequite intim.ate. Mr. Grantley is guardi.an to her little boy."
They were hardly ever apart, and seemed to en- " Indeed," I said, and then, not caring to hear
joy e-ach other's society very much. They read any more about lier, I walked out into the
Vol. lxvi. 14
168 godey's lady's book and magazixe.

cabin, and sitting down upon the sofa, gazed Grantley knocked at his mother's door, and
long and earnestly at a very pretty group. then at ours, endeavoring to make us more
There was Mr. Grantley sitting at a tab>e writing, comfortable, and vainly urging us to make an
wliile Mrs. Ellis, leaning over his chair, dictated effort and come on deck, declaring we would

a list of things she was sure she would want, never be well till we did.
as she expected, she said, to be dreadfully sea- Dec. Ath. This morning I felt so miserably
sick. Mr. Grantley was much amused at her weak from having eaten nothing, and lying so
decided manner and coquettish little ways, and long in my berth, that I got up and dressed as
at the unavailing attempts she keep made to well as I threw a shawl around me,
was able,
her little boy still, who was racing up and and staggered out to the cabin, when I sank
down the cabin, striking against the chairs and down on a sofa in perfect despair. Oh, how I
tables with his little whip, and then trying to wished for home and my dear uncle I felt !

climb into Mr. Grantley's lap. After a while how absolutely alone I was, no one to care for
she coaxed liim into a chair, set his nurse to me, and, burying my face in my handkerchief,
watch him, then, sitting down beside Mr. Grant- I sobbed from very weakness.

ley,they spoke much lower, and seemed ab- " Uow glad I am, my dear Miss Laura, to see
sorbed in their subject of conversation. you up once more How do you feel this morn-
!

Gradually most of the ladies had taken seats, ing ?" said Mr. Grantley.
some with fancy work, others with books, all I partly lifted my head, and then, to cover
looking very sober. All our parly but Mr. the blush I felt rising, I dropped it again,
Grantley were sitting together. Occasionally when he sat down beside me, and said he was
Mrs. Grantley would pass her smelling-bottle quite a doctor, and would have to prescribe for
around with a most significant smile, and if we his little patient. I told hira I was not sick,
looked at all sober she would scold us. but felt so weak and faint that I could not rise.

At last the vessel commenced to rock slowly "Yes, yes," he said, "and a little home-
from side to side, and the ladies standing around sick ;" and then he softly stroked my hair, and
the stove took seats. As the motion increased, said, " Poor child, I will soon make you well."
I threw a shawl around my shoulders, vowed I Soon after the steward brought him a wineglass-
would go on deck, and persuaded Mary to ful of braudy, which he made me drink. A mo-
acoomi^auy me. We made our way up the ment after he asked me if I could stand, and I

stairs,and stepped out on deck. For a time the did. He put my arm through his, and helped
change was pleasant, and we quite revived but ; me up on deck. I never shall forget how glori-
the wind seemed to freshen so fast that Mary ous the ocean looked that bright, warm day ;

said she could stand it no longer so down we ; and after Mr. Grantley had fixed me in au arm-
went into the cabin. A great many ladies had chair, and placed another for me to rest my feet
disappeared, among them Mrs. Grantley and on, he went down to look after his other pa-
Miss Gardner. I left Marylying on a sofa, and tients, and I was all alone on the sea.
hastened to their rooms. They were in their There are some scenes which are so gi-and,
berths, but only complained of headache. I so wondrously beautiful, that one gazes wiih
returned to Mary, sat down beside her, and awe upon them, and forgets, for a time, one's
bathed her head with bay-water. I glanced personality in their greatness.
around the cabin. The ladies gradually laid " Oh, who can save he whose heart hath tried,
toll,

down their work and books, then leaned their Aud danced triumph o'er the waters wide,
in

heads on their hands, and then one by one re- The exulting sense, the pulse's madd'niug play,
That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way ?"
treated to their state-rooms. Mary also I helped
into her berth then returned for the bay-water.
; I watch the waves ever shifting, now rearing
I had just time to see Mr. Grantley and Mrs. aloft, now dissolving away in some deep cavern,
Ellis still earnestly engaged in talking, when dashing their spray high over the deck, foam-
the vessel lurched, and losing my balance, I ing under the wheels, till my eyes tire of the
fell, but immediately getting up I protested I never ceasing motion.
wasn't hurt, although Mr. Grantley had rushed At last I began to wonder where all the ladies
to help me. were, and to dislike being the only one on
Dec. 2d tincJSd. The next two days are blanks. deck. There are plenty of gentlemen up here,
I was seasick, and I know ofno more dreadful and it is such a novel sight to see a lady on
sensation. Occasionally I would hear voices deck that they really stare at me till I am quite
ir the cabin, and sometimes I could distinguish uncomfortable. What a pair of eyes that is

the conversation. Regularly every meal Mr. sitting round the corner there ! I wonder why
 CROSS rcRrosES. 169

they look so strange Ah, tlieir owner is com- ? " I '11 stay with Laura, and you can all go
ing this way. When
he passes, I 'II take a look down to the table," said Mrs. Grantley.
at hiin. Ho walks well. I do not think he Miss Gardner w.as going, and taking Mary's
minds this unsteady deck any more than if he arm, said she should .accompany her.
were on Broadway. Oh, no not Broadway ! "Miss Mary, you surely won't desert us?"
he is a Spaniard. That olive skin, tliose piercing said Mr. Grantley.
eyes and jetty hair betray him. Perhaps he is "Why, Mr. Grantley, you could not expeet
going to Havana. He looks intelligent; he comes me to leave you all alone at the table !" Mary
this wayhe would speak to me if he
.is if looked at me mischievously, and then walked
dared. It me laugh to think how
almost makes off with Mr. Gardner, his sister having disap-
I look
my hair all uncombed, my boots un- peared. Mr. Grantley followed.
laced (I tried my best this morning to lace leaned over to Mrs. Grantley, and asked
I

them, but it made my bead swim so to stoop I her, " How old she thonght Mr. Gardner?"
had to give it up), not a bit of a collar. Ah I "Too old for you, my dear, but not for Mary
what would I have thought of myself a week Henry."
ago in this plight ? If I were a.^ked what would I laughed a quiet laugh to myself, for Mr.

cure vanity, I should recommend sea-sickness. Gardner was several years younger than Edward
Here comes Mr. Grantley at last. Grantley. But then what was Edward to me ?
" I .am sorry I had you alone so
to leave He was so kind, and he seemed to watch so
long. Miss Laura, but was getting the rest of
I closely to see if I wanted anything and then ;

the party up. And now what will you hare for I so often meet his eye, and, I am sure, always

breakfast ?" blush. I am almost afraid he thinks I like

I thanked him, but was su.-e I could eat no- him. This will never do, and I am determined
thing. I shall not let him think I care anything for
' Xow, my dear child, yon must do as your liim. I will try the Spaniard. See if I can't
doctor says." flirt a little, too ; it seems the order of the day
" Well, what does he say?" oil board ship. Let me see how shall I begin ?
;

" He says eat a little dry toast, and have a When he talks, I must appear much interested,
tumbler of lemonade. Ah, there come the rest not s.ay much myself, and then he will be
of the party !" so in love with the sound of his own voice
Sure enough, there they were. Mrs. firant- that he will want to come and talk to me
ley first, looking a little pale Mary on her ; again. I will promenade this evening tli.at ;

arm, paler and Mr. and Miss Gardner, quite

; will be an excellent idea, and we will have
natural ; and, to my surprise, last of all came some music, and I will ask him what is his fa-
my friend with the handsome eyes, all but vorite song, and sing to him.
concealed with shawls. Who can he be, I But I wonder where Mr. Grantley is all this
wonder? As Mrs. Grantley came up, I tried to time ? Mrs. Grantley and I have finished our
rise to get her a chair; but she would not let breakfast. I thought he was going to t.ake his
me said she was better than I was, and in-
; breakfast with us. What can he want to go to
deed they were quite gay. For my part, I the table for ? Suddenly it flashed on my mind
was anything but well my head ached so I ; that Mrs. Ellis had not been sick, and he was
could scarcely see, and I told Mrs. Grantley I most likely with lier. I was ou the point of
must go down again but she said it wouldn't ; asking Mrs. Grantley if she h.ad seen Mrs. Ellis,
do, and she made me lie down on a long bench when thought how ridiculous it would sound,
I

while Mr. Grantley brought some pillows for
my he.-id and the Spaniard gave me a shawl.
When I was fixed, Mary Henry said
"Wouldn't it be nice to have breakfast up
here 1"
"Indeed, I am
said Miss Gardner.
thing up here."
"Yes; but if I assure yon that you shall
have everything that you want?" said Mr.
as 1 had never been introduced to her.
How jhoald I meet Mr. Grantley ? I felt
: aggravated to think I should so easily have
allowed myself to care for him, and he had
only treated me as a friend. To be sure be had
going down to the table," sent me baskets of flowers all winter, had al-
"You'll never get any- ways sought my society, and his eyes had
spoken more than was right if he never loved me.
I should like to be indignant, and not look at him
again but then of course he would think I was
;

Grantley. " At any rate. Miss Laura shall jealous much better to be perfectly oblivious
;

have her toast here, and whoever will stay, outwardly to everything that is passing around
'
speak. me, but inwardly form uiy own resolutions. I
 170 GODEY S LADY S BOOK AND MAGAZINE.

suppose I was so excited by all the events of mother, you come with me and Mrs. Ellis. Mr.
the morning that out of weariness I fell asleep, Domine, take good care of Miss Laura."
for the 7-emeiuber was a clear,
nest thing I I asked Mr. Domine if he had seen Miss
ringing laugh, joinedby several other voices, Gardner. He said yes she had gone down
;

and, hastily rising, there I saw our whole with her brother. At the table Mr. Domine
party, and the centre of the gronp was Mrs. sat between me and Mary Henry. He was
Ellis. She was just finishing some anecdote, very pleasant and intelligent he had read a ;

her eyes sparkling full of fun, and every one great deal, and travelled over half the globe.
around looked amused. They had not noticed I had determined to like him before I was in-

my rising, and not until I was preparing to go troduced to him, and there was that in his
down into the cabin. Mrs. Grantley said manner so bold and energetic that one's good
" Why, Laura, are you going down ? Edward, opinion was fairly taken by storm.
do help Miss Evans." After dinner lie took a seat by me in the
Mr. Grantley came forward and offered me cabin, and entertained me exceedingly with

his arm. would rather not liave taken it,

I
his adventures by sea and land. It seemed

particnlarly as I saw Mrs. Ellis give me any- that he lived mostly in Havana, but was often

, thing but an agreeable look still I was deter- ;

in New York. He said he was well acquainted
mined to act as if notliing had happened to with uncle, and had often taken dinner with
either of us, although we were scarcely the liim, but I had always been at school. I asked
same persons four days ago. I was surprised him how he became acquainted witli the Grant-
to find how much better I felt. At the state- leys. He said his mother and Mrs. Grantley
room door Mr. Grantley said he hoped I would were own cousins, and that be had been there
soon be ready to come up again, and that I spending the evening the night before they
must try to eat some dinner lie would give ;
sailed and they had persuaded him to join
;

me half an hour to dress, and then would come their party, although he had not intended leav-

after me. I asked what time it was, and was ing New York until the next steamer.

surprised to find it was almost three o'clock. After tea Mary asked me if I was able to
What a long time I must have slept walk. 'Twas a beautiful night, with a iiew
moon, and I felt able to do anything so we
After plaiting my hair, I coiled it aronnd my
;

walked up and down, not gracefully, for we

head iS la couroiiiie, and then, to help me in my
had a great deal of fun swaying from side to
proposed liirtation, dressed all in black, and
side with the rocking of the vessel. Mrs. Ellis
threw a long lace veil over my he.ad and shoul-
was fortunately down stairs, and Mr. Grantley
ders. But it was no use I couldn't look Span-
;

and Mr. Domine were smoking together. They

ish. I was ready before the half hour was out,
soon joined us, and Mr. Grantley asked me if I
so, throwing a shawl around me, I h