CA
-—
A DESERTED HOUSE.
n—
Aspell Ruballowed girds the crumbling
walls,
Shunned by mankind, whose superstitious
dread
Pictures weird forms and faces of the
ead.
In these deserted rooms, these silent halls,
Through yon dank mead a sluggish river
crawls, ike
The dismal, uncouth night-birds flit o'er
head,
A flickering radience from the moon is
shed.
‘While, luridly gleaming, a large meteor
falls.
Here solitude—a grim usurper—reigns,
In desolate chambers void of light or air;
Left to the slow encroachments of decay,
With noisome dews and dark, unwhole-
some stains
Abandoned by all beings bright or fair
gray.
tenn
Miss Mayo’s German.
S—
tions she was addressing.
gence, rose up wigh a conscious look.
“]—1 haven't really bought it yet,
rassment.,
for approval.
think it too expensive,”
Miss Mayo smiled faintly.
wise,
“Qh, I guess I can stand it,
said lightly. ‘‘Show it to me.”
"
opened with many misgivings
hand-painted buttons.
“It struck me as being
pretty,” Theresa said, apolugetically,
as she held up the rich fabric,
80
ly ; indeed, it is beautiful, Therese.’
character,
had very little to do to go down and
but she said nothing.
anything so expensive,’
plained, “but you know you said that
liant suceess.”’
“80 I did.”
“And then Mr. Dryden’s friend
coming, you know, a d-—"’
“Who ? Ellis Arnold |
exclaimed, in surprise. ‘Why, Therese,
cap for him 1”
Therese colored vividly.
“Oh, no!” she said. “Not at all!
Only you said he was very rich and had
geur in dress, and—"’
in the world.”
Therese tossed her head with a look
that said he had yet to meet her.
way.
“I told you all abeut him, didn’t 1 m
she said.
“1 don’t remember.
engaged at one time and the girl
him, didn’t she ?"
“She broke the engagement by letter
without giving him any explanation,
and then she disappeared. She was an
orpnan with an only brother, a [ast
jilted
gery just about the time she left town.
Peuple said that she was concerned in
the uffair but Ellis never would believe
that.
never recovered from the blow.
+ can’t understand that,’’ Therese
said, flippantly. “1 should think be
would be too proud to parade such an
affair. If I were he, I would marry
some nice girl just to make people be-
lieve 1 didn’t care, even if [ did.”
“No, you wouldn't,” Miss Mayo an
swered, quietly ; “not if you were Ellis
Arnold. There |” Wasn't that the bell ?
1 wond#r who it is?”
“it is Miss Brudway,” Therese said,
from the hall where she had gone to peer
over the banisters,
“Miss Bradway?’ queried her cousin,
“My new dressmaker. I told her to
1"
“Oh,” said Miss Mayo, with a
peculiar smile. “1 thought you had
no make up your mind whether you
would keep it or not.”
Therese colored painfully,
“Neither I had,” she stammened ;
“only 1 thought that if I did"
+ John is showing her up-stairs,” Miss
Mayo interrupted, “I suppose you will
no see her in bere?”
As she spoke, & fall, slender girl,
a
room.
“Miss Mayo?" she said, in a soft,
hesitating tone, *‘I am Miss Bradway.’
“Kit down,” Therese said, with a pat-
ronizing air. *‘1 will see you in & mo-
ment,”
Then she turned to her cousin, with a
marked change of manner,
“Well, Clarissa,” she said, in a low
tone, ‘what do you say ? Shall I keep
the dress ?’ :
“If you like,” Miss Mayo replied,
carelessly, “But you haven't intro-
duced me to Miss Bradway.”
“Excuse me,” Therese exclaimed,
with a look of surprise. ‘‘Miss Brad-
way, this is my cousin, Miss Clarissa
Mayo.”
As the young girl rose and bowed her
graceful head, Miss Mayo was struck
with the delicate regularity of her fea-
tures, and the patiy e refinement of her
whole presence,
“A lady, evidently,” she said to her-
self. “But how frail she looks | What
a pity such a girl as that should be com-
pelled to earn her living with her nee-
dle.” .
“This is my dress, Miss Bradway,’
Therese rattled on, with heightened an-
imation as she held up the soft, silken
fabric with ill-concealed pride,
Every vestige of the faint color in the
dressmaker’s face vanished as her large,
expressive eyes rested on the rich mater-
ial.
“That,” she stammered; “that! I—1I
—why, it must be a very old pattern I"
“Old 1" exclaimed Therese, with evi-
dent pique. *‘I rather think not! I
just bought it yesterday at Horne’s. It
is part of their new stock.”
“All of these Oriental designs are
| old.” Miss Mayo observed, quietly.
“For that matter, the older they are
the better, Have you seen this patiern
before, Miss Bradway ?"’
| “Yea” the young girl
| slowly, as she bent her head over the
| be autiful silk, *“*some time ago, I-—I
once had a dress like it myself.”’
| It can hardly have been the same,”
| Therese said, with a slight sneer,
“Why not ?’ broke in Miss Mayo,
| shortly, *‘I have nc doubt it was ex-
actly the same, Don’t stand Miss Brad-
way. How are you going to have your
dress made, Therese ?"’
Then followed a long
| which wore out the strength and pa-
tience of the frail dressmaker,
She was too much work
to undertake the immediately,
but Therese finally compelled her to
| promise that she would © ak: it in the
last three days that preceded Lhe ger
man, which was to be the great special
event of the season.
answered,
discussion,
young
rushed with
dress
*
4] shall have to work night and day,’
| Miss Bradway sighed, as she wended
her way back to her little home ;
Dick.”
The t of the came,
and Therese's dress was done barely
wished to wear
nigh german
an hour before she it;
| but Therese was late in dressing.
|! An ill-timed headache had threa-
tened to spoi: all her plans for the even:
ing.
As she lay in a darkened room trying
| to fight off the spasms of pain in the
time to complete her triumph, the lit
tle dressmaker sat under the soft lamp-
| light putting in a*few last stiches to the
shimmering silk that fell in rich folds
upon the floor,
As she broke off her thread, her tired
Fhands fell listlessly into her lap, and her
| graceful head drooped peasively on her
| breast,
| much,” she mused, fingerinig the costly
| fabric. “If I were to put on this drss
to-night — why shouldn't 1? Just
| try it on; there can be no barm in
tbat.”
| The fancy grew upon her, and,
springing up, she siipped into the beau-
| titul toilet into waich she put all
her energy and ideas for three days
past
It fitted ber marvelously well, The
| #oft folds clung to het lissome figure
| with peculiar grace, and as the 1ich
gold and crimson came in contact with
seemed transfigured with a new beau-
ty. A soft flush dawned in her cheeks
| a8 she stepped before the mirror and
| surveyed herself, her eyes sparkied, and
her hair, which had been disarranged
her shoulders beautiful confu-
sion.
“There is not so very much differ-
ence after all 1*
as she smiled back at her own reflec-
tiou.
She heard the guests arriving, the
m
ripples ‘of laughter, and then the
seductive strains of the waltz,
was “Weber's
Dance.”
Obeying the first impulse that thrilled
her blood, the little dressmaker swayed
from side to side, and the next moment
she was gliding about the room with
Invitation to the
dencer,
she paused with a nervous shiver
#
in tones of severe censure and sure
prise,
“Miss Bradway!” exclaimed Therese,
who was standing in the open doorway.
“How dare you 7”
“Oh, Miss Mayo!” she stammered,
So”?
But no word of apology escaped her
lips, for just then there was a quick
step on the stairs and Clarissa Mayo
met her lover's friend in the hall,
“Oh, Miss Mayo!" he cried, seiz-
ing her hand. *‘I am so happy to-night,
You know I told you all about Rich-
ard Leigh—and—well, they have found
out that he didn't commit that forgery
after all, and he is to be discharged from
prison to-morrow.”
A low cry burst from the little dresse
maker's lips,
“Thank God I”? she eried, fervently,
“Oh, Dick! dear Dick! I knew it!
I knew it!”
[ike a flash she sped across the room
and stood in the doorway, radiant with
joy and beauty.
“Who said so?’ she cried, excitedly,
“Who said Dick was innocent?”
Then she caught sight of a pale,
handsome face and two dark eyes that
seemed to devour ber.
“Ellis!” she cried,
you?"
Ob, Ellis, is it
“Orient, my Orient!" was the glad re-
“Miss Mayo, there is Orient
Leigh, or her ghost, just as I saw her
It must be she! That is the very
sponse,
last!
dress"?
“I am Orient Leigh,”” the girl an-
swered, shrinking back with
timidity.
sudden
“What was it you were say-
about my brother Dick?"
or
»
in
Ellis Arnold did not wait to answer,
He caught her in hissarms and strained
her to his heart.
“If you are Orient Leigh,” he cried,
passionately—*“Ah! I know you are!
My love, my dear little love! Where
have you been hiding”’
With his arms about her Orient told
her story—how she had not wished to
hold him to his trot
h, after the taint of
crime had been t
put upon her name,
and she had thought it best to go away,
to sink her identity out of sight, that he
might forget her and be happy, “but
pow,’ the added, **if it was true that
Dick were proven innocent —-"'
“Now, darling!®’
“vou are all my own, But why
did you not trust me more? Nothing
in this world could have made me feel
2ilis cried rapture
Ousiy,
any differently toward you so long as |
knew you to be my own pure, sweet
flower, my orient pearl!”
“Dear.” Miss she
leaned on her lover's arm, and watched
the reunited pair, it
who can get up such a pretly
said Mayo, as
isn't everybody
little fig-
ure for a german, is it?
There were tears in her sweet eyes as
she stooped and kissed the little dress.
maker,
“Whenever you feel like it, Orient,”
she sald, kindly, **I want you and Ellis
to come down stairs to introduce you
to my friends, and I want you to keep
on that dress, just to oblige me, Ther-
€8e may put on my velvet and
point lace, if she wishes,
And so Therese did, but her triumph
was incomplete, for Ellis Arneld, the
greatest catch of the season, was be-
yond the influence of her charms,
Ellis and Orient led the german that
night, and all society has been raving
about her ever since,
Even now that she is Mrs,
she has lost none of her
queen of society and a reigning belle.
Dick Leigh has séttied down now, and
you couldnt find a better fellow in a
day's travel
Bitter as his experience was, he says
himself that it was the best thing that
ever happened to him.
back
ts
Armold,
prestige as
False Hair.
In the days of the Emperor Trajan a
market was established in front of the
Temple of Apollo for the sale of false
hairand dyes and cosmetics of many
kinds, and it was in its time as fashion-
All
Rome gathered there of a day. It was
in the glorious summer of prosperity
at a period when golden hair was the
rage. The women tried in a thousand
ways to obtain the precious tint, They
bought eagerly all kinds of preparations
from foreign countries—pomades from
Greece and soaps from Gaul, The water
from the river Chrathis, which was
supposed to possess the Midaslike virtue
of turning all it touched to gold, was
one of the most popalar ‘washes’ ever
offered to the Roman public. When this
the head, Then a fine crop of golden
hair came, It came from Germany or
trade in human bair has continued in
the hands of the French and German
—— th ————
~The largest bell ever cast on the
Pacific coast was lately made for a fog-
signal alarm at the Alcatraz Island. It
welghs 8333 pounds, :
Our Boys and Girls,
A Chlid’s Influence.
BY GEORGE B, GRIFFITHS,
A little white robed girl, they say,
Magenta's hero met one day,
Any handed him a sweet bouquet
Rare blossoms from some rural glen ;
He raised her up, and kissed ber then
In sight of twenty thousand men,
And she, upon his saddle borne,
As all toward gay Paris turn,
Caressed the warrior, bronzed and worn-»-
Aye, kissed him thrice, snd wound one
Rf
“Twas like a dove's wing soft and warm--
Around his neck, and feared no harm,
Not all his deeds of valor won,
Nor genius proved "neath foreign sun,
So honored Marshal McMahon
That instant swept the line along,
A deafening shout that echoed longe-
‘Twas like a viclor's triump song.
ww Good Cheer,
Good Luck.
BY ADA CARLTON,
“1 wish I could help you, mother,”
“You do help me, Rick.”
“Karn & lot of money, for you, I
mean, to pay off that wretched old
mortgage. 1 do try to, mother, but
somehow folks that have me once don’t
want me again, I hate to hoe corn and
dig potatoes so, and maybe that’s the
veason. 1'd a good deal rather be dig-
ging amongst the rocks at the foot of
old Mount Cain,”
That was exactly what the people of
Garland were saying about Rick Da-
vidson,
“He's a goad boy,’’ Squire Ballard
declared to his wife, “and he don’t
seem to be actu’lly lazy, but he don’t
bev no kind ¢’ heart in his work.”
And s0 Squire Ballard had gently
hinted to Rick, when his day’s work
was done, that his services in the coru-
field would not be furiher required.
And Rick carried his sore heart and
the hard-earned half-dollar home Lo his
mother ; and the next morning he got
up and stood out at the low door under
the swinging hop vines, with his hands
behind him and his dreamy gaze wali-
dering across the country to rest on old
Mount Cain, outlined agaiust the deep
blue of the sky ; and then be said :
“I want to help you, mother, and I
will, There must be something for me
somewhere,’
Mrs. Davidson smiled ; she was very
proud and fond of her boy.
“tid for
continued we'd
wasn't the mortgage,”
Rick, manage well
enough : but $100 with 12 per cent. in-
terest is a big sum for us—for you Ww
it
is
pay, mother,"
“Yeu said Mrs
sigh which she could not repress ; "but
bad comes to
Davidson, with a
we can sell the cow
worst, Rick.”
“No, we won't,” said Rick, deter-
minedly, “That old Csptain Ridley
J
$8 manos
i
for Mrs Ridley
Rick's mother,
“I'm going to sew
interposed
ulet smile.
i. Rick, and then you'll have
We garded
little,’
best
said he ; and
4
a
time 10 dig among the rocks a
Ri W Kissed “yy oti'1e Lhe
mother a boy ever had,”’
ber,
care before he betook himself across the
fields and fences to oid Mount Cain,
It was so pleasant
among the bowiders and ledges for new
stones to add to hus collection of cun-
osities, How they talked to him, those
fragments of rock, and how hard he
to understand their language |
He studied and poured over his bits of
pudding-stone and feld-spar and granite
as he never pored over his books at
tried
schoo,
So he passed the day just as he had
passed a great many other days. It
was when the lengthening shadows
told him it was quite time to return
home that a streak of good fortune
found Rick. Iu a cleft he discovered a
beautiful prism, green, and ending in
a three-sided pyramid,
“1 never saw auything like that,” he
eried ; *“it is lovely I"
Then he began to look for others; and
very soon he had found nearly a dozen,
some red and some green, one or two
black. and one of a clear shining pink,
very large and perfectly shaped, and ex-
ceedingly beautiful. There were no
long and carefully.
Going home across lots he came upon
Algy Verner, who was helping drive the
cows from the pasture ; he was Judge
Yerner's son.
When he saw Rick he called out to
htm and made room for him on the
grassy knoll where he was sitting.
“Jonas has gone to bunt up old Brin-
die,” said he, “Where have you been,
Rick ?*
“Over on old Cain,” answered Rick ;
and without more ado he tumbled the
wonderful pristos out of his pockets.
“See! said be,
Algy caught up the pink one with a
ery of admiration, **What a splendid
tourmaline I" he said. “1 wish my
Uncle Henry tould see it. 1 believe
he'd almost go crazy. You see, he's
great on such things, and this beatsany-
thing he's got in his cabiuvel. 1 say,
Riek, I know he'd give you fifty dollars
for it, and maybe more."
Fifty dollars! Rick's heart bounded.
“Would he ¥'' he cried eagerly ; “do
you think he would ¥ It can't be worth
dso much,” :
i
SH B—————
is or not,” laughed Algernon, “I'll
bet he'd buy the whole of ‘em if you'd
sell em. They're the prettiest ones ['ve
ever seen, and I've seen scores of tour.
malines,”
“Are these called tourmalines ?”’
Yes,” said Algernon; and then Jonas
came up with the brindled cow ; and
the two boys arose and said good night
to each other.
“Now you'd better send those things
to Dr. Henry Fortescue, 050 Acron
street, Brogna,” sald the judge’s son,
“Jt'H be worth while, I tell you.”
Rick walked home on air.
“1 on’t tell mother,’ he decided ;
“because, maybe, she'd only be disap-
pointed, after all. I'll go to Dr. Fer-
tescue myself,”
He went to Mount Cain next morn-
ing, but he found no more tourmalines ;
said to himself that there was no more
to be found,
“But it’s funny to think how many
when thereain’t another one anywhere,”’
said he; and he went home tired and
happy enough,
Brogna in the morning early ; and
had been eaten :
“Will you let me
mother, and not know where
go
it
thing to eat. Do say I can, mother.’
didn’t feel that
was not
jut Mrs. Davidson
she could say so, It
sent.
all lengths,”
so vel, and you ean go if you want to
street, and bravely mounted the impos.
ing stone steps, though his heart beat
painfully. But you may imagine his
surprise and delight when, on being
ushered into a handsome room, the first
face his gaze fell upon was that of his
friend Algernon
“You see,” Algernon explained, ‘1
started after you did, but I came by
steam. And I've told Uncle Henry
the tourmalines.
se
ahout
Henry.
A tall kind-faced man shook Rick's
hand at that moment and shook it cor
dially.
“ Ahd you've walked all this way my
boy," he said.
and get rested before we
business,”
proceed to
substantial lunch would Dr. Fortescue
| about his neck. Rick,
ure,
“These, particularly the pink one,
are the most perfect specimens of the
kind, 1 ever saw,” said the
| “My boy, I will give you §150 for the
lot **
One hundred and fifty dollars! Why
that was $25 more than enough to pay
the mortgage,
doctor.
I thank Algy.
mother’ll say.”
He wondered a great deal what she
would say, during that short, swift
journey home. It seemed as if he
had been away a long time, The old
mother would surely know him,
She surely did. Can you imagine the
welcome she gave him? Must I tell
y»u how they cried and laughed togeth-
er? And how Rick said to his mother,
in the twilight agai 1, looking acrossto
where Mount Cain stood wrapped a
hazy vail :
I lways did love it and 1 always will
It’s just like a dear old friend to me.”
Cain yielded up from the day of Rick's
| discovery until this, though the boys of
Garland have spent many holidays in
the search, As for Rick, he is tramp-
ing this summer through town. county
| and State in company with an eminent
geologist ; and there is reason for be-
lieving that in future years he will be-
| come an eminent geologist himself. —
Portland 1ransceipt.
A -
Bakep Musunooms,—The mush-
rooms were nicely prepared, and part
of their gills scraped away so as to
| make them somewhat hollow. This
mushroom material is mixed either
with some sausage meat or with a con.
coction of minced tongue or ham and
a few breadcrumbs and butter, Each
_ mushroom is filled with hisstuffing and
gently cooked in the oven in a covered
dish with a little piece of butter While
cooking, small circles of toast, well
buttered, are prepared, and a mushroom
neatly placed on each. They are served
on & hot dish, and are excellent. Some
say the mushrooms are best cooked first
alone and then filled with the sausage
mixture, also heated by itself, but this
can be tried. The idea is Parisian, and
can be experimented with, The result
| is delicious,
.
i
i
i
i
i
Fashions.
—
~-New fans form begonia leaves in
dark or shaded velvet,
~New French drawers have a gore
taken out, are trimmed with lace, and
tied with ribbon, to mateh chemises,
—A beautiful dress fan is of black
gauze, with butterfiies, hand-painted,
upon the leaves, The sticks are dark
shell.
- The ribbed silk stockings in dark
shades are the most fashionable for day
wear, unless they are selected to match
the dress,
—A charming dress worn at a easing
entertainment was of pink and white
with fringe of small pink and white
crabapples,
~The most fashionable collar for the
street is at upright velvet band, over
which lace is turned, and which is fin-
ished in front with plaited endas of lace
and a velvet rosetie or bow,
| There is a popular tendency to tuck
| the front of bodices, particularly those
Instead of tuck-
| ing them to the waist they are best
| of black or gray wool,
| tucked as a deep—not wide—square
~The London Queen reports adepart~
i ure in the style of skirts of young ladies’
ball gowns, the hitherto indispensible
waterfall by
| skirts of tulle and net arranged baliet-
| fashion in flounces
which are trimmed with perpendicular
of
| upon them, producing a
| novel effect,
drapery being
replaced
of equal length,
| TOWS satin ribbon fastened lightly
preity and
~ At a recent reception gven 0 a
that
black and yellow were the favorite col-
ors—not used in one toilet, but all black
| or all yellow dresses seemed to be in the
ranging
canary to deep amber—a
+H
vile
majority,
from palest
yellow in
sort of treacle—and lastly to a gold
yellow-brown, with a reddish tinge u
+3
suggestive of wall flowers,
— Waistcoats are revived with clot
od
vier
: irs
ALAN
dresses; many of them be made in
chamois leather, which looks particu-
| larly well with fawn, brown and mouse
which
Dull-gold colored
look well with black, dark red with dark
green, and old blue bronze ; the
buttons are wrought metal or plagues,
very small and often filigreed.
gray, all of are fashionable
shades, waistcoats
with
—The capote, gauged and protruding
like an
i front,
ancient Quaker’s bonnet in
It is trimmed
narrow ribbon, in
two shades of color such as pink and red
is very popular.
with cockade bows of
or light and dark blue ; narrow strings,
bridling the capote the ears, are
The
the season are terra-cotta, old
Over
tied pear the left ear. favorite
COIOTS of
copper and crushed strawberry.
Marguerite corsages ior
girls are made of royal-blue,
— Pretty
{ young
laurel-green or ruby plush, pink, mauve
or pale-blue velvet, to be worn over
airy skirts of tulle veiling or embin
muslin. In front they
| broadly over a dainty lace chemisetle
dered Opts
| russe, The very short sleeves are edged
with frills of lace, and frequently th
edges are cut in blocks, with lace shell
plaitings set underneath,
~The number of mantels of th n brow
caded materials upon a transparent
ground has hotably increased of late
These materials are chiefly brocaded
silk gauze, with raised designs in silk,
velvet, or of finest silk grenadine in
| raised patterns of satin. The man-
tels are in the shape o™ pelerines, large
fichus or elegant pelisses, They are
lined with gold, mauve or scarlet surah,
| and the effect is exceedingly rich and
| stylish.
~At arecent English wedding the
bride wore a dress of rich white satis,
draped and flounced with old Brussels
lace ; a veil of the same costly fabric,
kept in its place by diamond stars, was
becomingly arranged over a wreath of
orange blossoms and jasmine, and she
carried a huge bouquet, composed of
camelias, white roses, orange blossoms,
the beautiful orchid odontoglossum, and
other white lowers. The bridesmaids”
tasteful costumes were of crimsom
plush, trimmed with marabout, and
Rubens hats, with large crimson ostrieds
feathers. The bridegroom presented
each lady with a brooch, the design ber
ing a coral arrow running through two
pearl horseshoes, and bearing the in
{tials of the bride and bridegroom,
They all carried bouquets of beautiful
single dahlias (ruby), camelias, Roman
hyacinths, white roses, ete. The bride-
groom wore a fine gardenia, and the six
groomsmen cut flowers of tube roses
and myrtles,
————— A ———————
Beri Prreers-—Green bell-peppers
made a delicate relish if eaten with
salt. Cut the pepper in narrow strips,
after removing the seeds and rinsing
in cold water ; dip the strips in salt, as
you do celery. Serve on a plate or. in =
shallow glass,