The Song of the Birds.
Hear the song that the birdies tell—
Chink-cbink-chink-a-cheel
Clear and sweet as a slivery bell,
Hiding there in the mossy delle
Chink-cbink-a-chee, a~chee!
“Under my wings are eggs of blue,
Chink-chink-chink-a-cheel
Eggs of the prettiest possible hue,
Safely hidden from rain and dew,
C .ink-chink-a~chee, a-cheel
“Five little birds there soon will be,
Chink-ohink-ebink-a-cheel
Babies five to be fed by me,
Watched and guarded in this old tree,
Chink-chink-a-chee, a-cheel
“The happiest bird in the world am I
Chink-ohink-~chink-a-cheet
Boon shall 1 sags lullaby,
Hushing my bables when they cry,
Chink-chink-a-ehee, a-ches!”
This is the song the birdies tell, —
Chink-chink-chink-a-cheel
In voices sweet as a silvery bell,
Hiding there in the mossy dell,
Chink-chink-a-chiee, a-chea!
RR IRR
PAUL'S DOG BRUCE.
**That dog has got to get out of this
to-morrow, and that’s all there is about
itl
“Father!”
“There! I don’t want to hear a
word. I tell you the dog is going, and
that ends the whole thing, I hate
dogs, always did hate them and always
will.”
The beautiful St. Bernard standing
before the kitchen fire looking up into
his master’s face showed very plainly
that he knew what was going on. His
tail that had been wagging dropped be-
tween his legs, and he went behind a
chair as if to hide himself from sight.
“Look at that!’ continued Mr. Wil-
kins, angrily, as he shook out a coat
that had been hanging over his arm
and exposed a great rent, “Look at
it! That miserable dog did that.”
He tossed the garment on the back
of a chair with an expression of dis-
gust.
“Now, John,” began Mrs. Wilkins,
soothingly, ‘you wouldn’t break the
boy’s heart, would you? I have really
become quite fond of Bruce myself,
and I don’t believe he would bite any
one—unless it was a tramp or a thief,
Why, the dog bas grown up with our
boys, and Paul would—"’
+I tell you he is no use!” broke in
Mr. Wilkins, impatiently, *‘I detest
the doz. What good is he to us?
Why, he eats more than all the rest of
us put together, He'll eat -us out of
house and home before long.”’
Paullg eves filled with tears. He
threw Mnself on the floor and buried
his face in the dog's shaggy coat.
Bruce lifted his head and licked the
hand that fell over his neck.
“Farmer Jones will call to-morrow
and take the dog away,” announced
the father, as he marched out of the
house and slammed the door behind
tim.
Paul broke into a fit of sobbing until
the dog's hair was wet with tears,
His mother looked at him for a mo-
ment in silence, and then went about
her work. She knew if her husband
had really made up his mind that noth-
ing in the course of ordinary events
would change it, and perhaps she
thought it best that her son should
have his cry out at once.
The home of the Wilkins family was
in a little village of Dakota, John
Wilkins had settled there with his wife
and son Paul, now a boy of fourteen,
hoping to grow up and prosper with the
sountry.
He had met with moderate success,
for R—— was the centre of a populous
farming region, and John Wilkins’
Sencs store was the base of supplies
or the surrounding country,
He sold everything in the way of
groceries and dry goods and boots and
shoes, and when money was scarce ac-
cepted grain in exchange for his goods,
and sent it to market over the branch
railroad which tapped the village.
The one other member of the family
was Bruce, the splendid great St. Ber-
nard, which had been given to Paul
while a puppy.
Mr. Wilkins’ brother had sent the
little, shaggy ball of fat by express,
from Chicago, with a note which read:
“Here 1s a present tor Paul. Bruce is a pure
St. Bernard, and will make a splendid and
valuable dog. He will grow as strong as a lion.
Treat him kindly, and ho will watch over your
interests better than any two-legged animal
you can hire.”
Mr. Wilkins’ brother thought he
‘was doing a kindness in sending the
dog, but Mr. Wilkins could not see it
that way.
“Bill always was a queer fellow,” he
growled. ‘“*What did he want to send
him here for when he knows I always
hated dogs?’
“But he didn't send him to you.
The dog is mine,” cried Paul.
“Well, see that you take care of him
then, for I won’t. I su we'll
have to keep him that he’s , but it
won't be for long, I tell you,” and Mr,
Wilkins shook his head with a know-
ing smile,
But Bruce remained and grew up
just as Paul’s uncle said he would,
The boy and dog became inseparable
companions. Mr, Wilkins grumbled
occasionally and threatened now and
then to “‘poison that brute,” but he
never undertook to put his into
execution, and Paul had almost ceased
to pay any attention to them. But
when his father announced in his posi.
tive way that the dog must go he
knew that the decision was unalter-
le.
“Poor Bruce! They are to
take you away from me,” the
hi
he patted the floor softly with
hie Tall Tie sound of Bis
thy was touched, for he said, not un-
Rndllys
“What's the use of making so much
fuss about a miserable dog? 1 didn’t
suppose you cared so much as all that,
The dog will have a good home with
Farmer Jones, and——"" Just then his
eyes fell upon the torn coat, and he
added, emphatically, “I won't have
such a destructive animal around any
longer,”?
“The flour is out, John,” said his
wife. “If you want hot biscuit for
supper you had better send some
down.”
“I'll sénd a bag home by Paul before
dinner,” was the reply. *'I can't ged
in a barrel to-day. ‘I'he clerk is too
busy, This fine weather is bringing all
the farmers into town. Did you ever
see such splendid weather in winter be-
fore?”
“It is aimost as balmy as spring.”
“Yes, and it looks like a regular Jan-
nary thaw. Paul you had better come
along to the store with me, There is
lots of business to-day.”
The boy brushed away his tears,
slowly got up from the floor and drew
on his overcoat. Bruce shook himself
and prepared to follow his young mas-
ter.
“Oh, I don’t mean you. You stay
here,” growled Mr, Wilkins, with a
scowl, and the dog sneaked back be-
hind the chair and stretched himself
out again,
It was indeed a beautiful morning,
The warm rays of the sun were melt-
ing the snow, and a gentle breeze blew
from the south, The store was not
over a quarter of a mle from thelr
house, and Mr. Wilkins and his son
walked up the road and turned into
the main street, upon which the store
was located,
“T.o0k, father, see that funny cloud?”
said Paul, as he pointed to adark patch
in the northwest,
“Yes, I saw it a little while ago.
It doesn’t amount to much, I guess,”
Paul’s thoughts were so bound up in
Bruce and he was Kept so busy about
the store that he forgot all about the
cloud, and it was some time afterwards
that he heard his father remark to the
clerk:
“J wonder what makes It so dark?”
“Jt is curious,” replied the latter,
jumping over the counter and looking
out of the door. “Why,” he exclaim-
ed, **the sky is black!"
Just then a customer came in.
**You might as well shut up shop and
go home,” he said. *‘I am going to
get there as fast as I can. Give ma
five pounds of sugar, quick. There is
the biggest blizzard you ever saw com-
ing.”
Paul ran outside,
calm. It was very dark.
“Yes, it does look like a blizzard,”
remarked his father; **but I reckon
there is no harry.
my coal-bin full.”
two hours passed before all were startl-
shook the whole building.
ed it.
A tremendous gale was blowing
snow blew in before ita icy Lreath.
ground was white with it,
“Gracious! It is on us, sure en-
ough!’ exclaimed Mr. Wilkins,
bad no idea it was storming so.
must be getting out of this." .
He went behind the counter for a
small bag of flour, and then went into
a back room for an old overcoat that
hung there,
“You can close up the store as soon
as you like,” he said to the clerk.
“Here, Paul, throw this over your
shoulders and come along.”
Mr. Wilkins led the way into the
open air,
The thermometer had fallen in an hour
away down below zero. The stow was
as fine as sand, and the furious gale
drove the minute particles of ice with
blinding force until they cut like sharp
needles. Had there been a cloud burst
the snow could not have come down
faster, It was so fine and thick that
it was impossible to see a rod away.
It aiready covered the ground to a con-
siderable depth and was drifting badly,
Paul had not gone a dozen rods be-
fore he found himself almost unable to
breathe, He had drawn the icy par-
ticles into his lungs, and was actually
suffocating in the open alr,
He tried to cry out, but could only
tug at his father’s arm. His father
saw at a glance what was the matter,
and without a word drew out a hand-
kerchief and bound it tightly about the
boy's mouth and nose, Then, throw.
ing away the flour, which was becom.
ing too burdensome, he took his son by
the hand and led him along.
It was the hardest kind of work to
keep their feet in the driving storm.
The cold wind pierced them to the
bones, but they struggled bravely on,
thinking of the warm fire awaiting
H ood it? The l
ome ere was it on;
they walked the further they oT
be away from it.
“Where are we? We must be near
the house,” murmured Mr. Wilkins to
himself, anxiously, shading his eyes
from the cutting ice, *“‘Why is it we
do not reach it?”
Almost as he spoke he stumbled over
great stone,
“Why, we are out of the road! We
are wandering in a field!” he in
And then, with the sud
ness of despair, he exclaimed
all turned around! We are I
snow which had been
as a he
it drew the
in as hard
on the lee side
boy down beside
3
3
i
nothing, The snow still whirled about
their heads, and oh! how cold it was!
*Father, you are freezing!” cried
the boy, who, wrapped up as he was in
the big coat, was shivering himself,
“‘Here, take it; I can get along.”
“No, no, Iam all right,” protested
Mr, Wilkins, clapping his hands to get
up a circulation,
But his blue lips and trembling form
told too plainly of his suffering. The
mild weather had lured him from the
house without extra clothing, His son
was right, He was gradually but sure.
ly freezing. He realized it fully, apd it
frightened him, Still, he could not de-
prive his son of the coat, for it meant
death to him.
An hour passed, and his legs and
arms were growing numb. But still he
dared not face the awful blast,
“Father in heaven, have mercy!” he
prayed, “Send us help! Save us from
this terrible death!"
As If iv was an answer to his prayer,
a dark form suddenly threw itself up
against the drift, and a great mass of
shaggy hair scattered the snow in their
faces, Then there was a howl which
mingled with the blast, and the St.
Bernard barked and jumped with de-
light,
“Bruce, dear old Bruce! He is here
to save us!’ exclaimed Paul, throwing 1
his arms about the dog's neck and cry-
ing for joy. “Bruce can take us home
if anybody can. Father, we are saved!
Come, let me help you up.”
It was with difficulty that Mr, Wil
kins could gain his feet, but, aided by
Paul, he succeeded,
Then the boy fumbled in his pockets
and brought out a piece of strong t wine,
one end of which he tied to the dog's
collar,
*“*Now, Bruce, home, sir—-home!”’
The dog understood. He sniffed the
snow, shook himself, and started off,
Paul following aud leading his father,
Bruce's Instinet was true, and in a few
minutes he led them up to the door, and
father and son stumbled Into the kitch-
en in a half-frozen condition,
Mrs, Wilkins hovered over them
with tearful eyes, rubbing their hands
and feet with coarse flannel and pour-
ing the hottest of coffee down their
throats, while the dog crouched on the
floor and watched every movement with
his intelligent eyes,
“Bruce,” sald Mr. Wilkins, when he
was able to sit up—"*Bruce, come here,
girl”
The St. Bernard got up slowly and
Mr. Wilkins took
bent down over it. Was ii a tear that |
sparkled on it, or was it but melted |
snow?
At all events the dog understood, for |
Mother
looked at each other and
“I have always hated dogs, but—but
I don’t now,” he said. “Bruce, you |
have been our salvation. How did you
Wilkins,
“I sent him,” said Mrs,
vou home. And he seemed to
stand everything 1 said. ™
“*Noble Bruce, noble Bruce!" repeat |
“Bruce must have a |
good supper to-night, ™
“Poor old dog. And he has got to |
sald Paul, tenderly, |
that? Go off to-
I guess not!”
an stay?" cried the
What's
Well,
then he
“Hey.
morrow?
“Oh,
“stay! Well, I should say he could,
and he can lear up a coat every day if
be wants to, and [ won't say a word.”
And the dog understood that, too,
i
i
i
i
i
——— A ———— i
SMUGGLED w0DS. f
Travellers Who Try to Evade the Cas. |
}
tom House Daties, i
An inspector of customs who has |
grown round shouldered in the business |
of reconnoitering from smuggled goods
was asked the other day to relate a few
of his experiences during his long term
of service in the government's employ,
After allowing his memory to dnfi
backward a few years be rallied, and
resides on Beacon street,
“She is,” said be, “as rich as Crovsas,
and 1s a shininganark in ber philanth-
ropic work. No one gives more liber.
ally tothe cause of charity. No one
dispenses with a freer hand means for
spreading the Gospel in heathen lands.
She bears the reputation of being a
large hearted, full souled Christian lady.
Yet she swore falsely, as 1 believe, to
the boarding officer, She declared she
had nothing in her possession of a duti-
able nature, There was something
about the woman's actions, however
that awakened suspicion. A careful
examination of ber trunks apparently
verified her statement, There remain-
ed, however, a lingering doubt that she
was trying to deceive. Acting upon
this misglving she was asked to step in-
to a small room hear by, which is used
for the purpose of examining female
rs Whose Lruttifuiness has been
Challenged, nder her garments were
found forty four yards of fine black
Lyons silk, The fabric had been bast
to her pelticoat, She seemed Over.
come with embarrassment when the dis-
Was made. Her only excuse
not asked why she concealed it, Is
there any uge by which the incon-
sistency yed by this woman can
be measured?
Avout two years while an in-
og tor was aking La rounds \ pong
passengers, a 00
finely dressed lady n him Es
ribs and softly w “Can I see
you privately a few moments?
motioned the to one side, at
the same time her eyes fixed
upon two plainly women who
together near the com-
panion way, ‘l want to tell you,’ be-
the pretty
noo
BES
tion. in any form, and make this dis-
closure in the interest of honesty.’
The inspector thanked his fair infor.
mant, and promised that he would
make a thorough investigation of the
case,
When the two suspected females had
received thelr baggage upon the wharf
the inspector proceeded to make a most
careful search of their contents, but
found no trace of valuables. The in-
spector thought this was only a blind
to throw him off the scent, and he ask-
ed an inspectress to search the persons
of the two women, This was done, but
not a shadow of anything dutiable was
found. It now began to dawn upon the
mind of the inspector that he had been
tricked by the gay eavesdropper, and
that she was probably the one who was
trying to defraud the government, and
not the two ordinary looking females
who had been under suspicion. It was
a neat little game to throw off suspicion,
but will never be worked again on the
same jspution It was afterward
learned that the two women Were
Chicago school teachers who had been
abroad spending thelr summer vacation,
They felt very much embarrassed at
the attention they received at the hands
of the officers, and were at a loss to
fathom its meaning. The poor old
pedagogues probably never had a dis-
honest thought enter their heads,
An amusing incident occurred four
or five weeks ago on board a Cunarder,
when two finely dressed ladies declared
that they had nothing in their posses.
sion upon which any impost duty should
be levied, A few moments after tak.
ing the oath they were seen in close
consultation, and their actions indicat.
ed that they had under consideration a
matter of momentous importance,
Finally, one of them accosted the cus-
toms officer, and said: *‘I guess I've
made a mistake in declaring as I did,
as we have several articles in our trunks
which should pay duty.”’ It is no un-
usual occurrence to find these conscience
stricken people
A little dumpy kind of a man at-
tempted to run in three new ulsters a
short time ago as part of his own wear-
ing apparel. When his trunk was open-
ed and the garments taken out, he was
asked if be intended to wear the “‘top-
pers’ himself,
“Certainly I do,” he replied,
“1 don’t think the tailor gave youa
very good fit, will you Ly one of them
ont"
“They were all made from the pat-
tern of this one I have on,” and the
little man turned around twice. “I
don’t see the necessity of going to the
troubles of finding oul whether
the i
“I am sure the tailor must have made |
persisted the Inspector, |
**and I shall insist upon you giving me |
The little man tried every sway to |
satisfy the inspector that the coats |
It was like drawing a |
salt bag over a crochet needle, The!
The top of |
“What's the lightest you'll let me off
for?’ softly asked the little man,
The account was made out and he
pald without a whimper.
Two howling dudes were found one
heir traps looking
sneering, conlsmpiuous
at the scenes the new world
cream of |
inspector ap-
the
They were
When the
beset
with astonishment,
“1 beg pahidon, but what did you say,
sir?" queried one of them, i
“Open your trunks, I want to in. |
spect your baggage.'’
At this the spokesman of the two
threw a bunch of keys upon the wharf |
and sald, |
“Hopen the trunks yourself, fellow." |
“Lift the lids of those trunks in half |
a minute or they go to the appraiser's |
store,’ quietly remarked the inspector.
“Gentlemen atl ome don’t €o this
kind of work. What blawsted cus
toms you ave ere, to be sure that re-
quiab a gentleman to do a valet's
iabah.*’
He opened his trunks, however, tak-
ing this first lesson in democracy in the
land of freedom.
tee
Pastel Painting in England.
Pastel painting is once more finding
patrons in England. The splendid por-
traits which Alfred Stevens lately ex-
hibited.in Brussels were enough to make
fashionable people eager to revive the
art. In Paris there is a society of pas-
tel painters. One of the members, M.,
Lacaze, has discovered a process by
which permanency is insured to the
colors, and it has received the official
approval of the society, Hitherto a
fixing process has always diminished the
beauty of the colors, and hence pastel
painting, having to depend on the cray-
ons alone, was restricted to countries
where there are fewer atmospheric
changes than in England,
~The breaking down of the horse
Grover Cleveland at Monmouth on
Tuesday July 16th was very sudden,
The horse has had a quarter crack for
7
|
|
§zags
i ;
=2Feie
2
ii
BE
i
HORSE NOTES,
—French Park has won nearly
$15,000,
~Harry Wilkes has developed a
spitut.
~Sire Brothers want to sell Rosalind
Wilkes,
—Jockey Godfrey is no longer with
Mr. Belmont’s stable,
—The pacer Grover C, is said to have
shown a mile recently in 2.17}.
- White Btockings was bought for a
small price out of a carload of Western
horses,
~There are more horses al Saratoga
than ever before in the history of the
association,
—A. Loudon Snowden hastraded his
blk, m. Bessie for the br. g. Limerick,
record 2.324.
-- Nobby is just about to begin work
again after a let-up consequent on hit-
ting himself,
«Mary Mambrino, dam of Beatrice
(the dam of Patron), died recently near
Lexington, Ky.
~Thers will be ten days of running
and trotting races at Augusta, Ga,
beginning October 10,
~The Illinols pacer Frank Champ,
2.16}, recently changed hands, The
consideration was $3000,
~—Utlea's terms of entramcs to the
coming Grand Cireult races have been
reduced from 10 to 8 per cent.
~3ix Dixon is now the largest win-
ner of the season, and his sire, Billet,
is at the head of winning stallions.
~Sam Bryant savs that Proctor
Knott will be sent to Monmouth Course
to run in the Junior Champion stakes,
~The black pacing gelding Jersey
Boy, 2,22} by Paul Jones, has been
purchased by Alfred Post, of Chicago,
from J, 8, Coates, Goshen, N, Y.
— Viking, the renowned son of Bel.
mont and Waterwiteh, bas been sold
by Isaiah Thomas, of Goffstown, N,
H., to F. H. Foster, of Richmond, I.
Q., for $15,000.
—Samuel McMillan, owner of Gov-
ernor Hill, 2.19}, announces that be
will match that horse for 81000 a side,
owners to drive, against any other trot
ter in the world.
- RK. Porter Ashe has presented to
Mrs. Langtry the silver cup awarded
by the Moomouth Park Association to
the winner of the match race between
Mr. Ashe’s Geraldine and Fred Geb-
— Efforts are being made in New
England to get up a sweepstakes race
between Viking, 2.204. Charley
Wilkes, 2.264; Nelson, 2 211, and other
fast stallions, [It is proposed that each
owner subscribe $6000,
~The double-team race in the Buf-
falo programme has been stricken out,
The
mile
and under has been substituted.
purse for open to all trotters,
heats, has been increased Lo $5000.
-— A plan to swindle the bookmakers
at Monmouth Park by means of forged
tickets was recently nipped in the bud
by the arrest of Edward Carrigan and
capture of the counterfeit plates,
Don Regent, chestout gelding,
War Dance, property of 8, E, Larable,
Deer Lodge, Mont., broke his near
hind leg in the first race at Chicago on
~{owmpared with our horses I, E.
Bard,
~ Astoria, sister of Dexter and Dic-
tator, bas been bred to All-So, son of
ner to Charles Backman, of Stony
Ford, for $1000. The produce of As-
toria for 1880 has also been contracien
for, Albert C. Hall agreeing to pay
§1000 for it.
~Ajeorge Lynch, the well-known
jockey, was shot mysteriously at Brigh-
ton Beach at noon last Saturday. He
was going from the stables to lis din-
ner when a pistol ball struck him on
the forehead and passed out just behind
the temple, Though seriously hurt it
is not thought that his injuries are fa-
tal* It is not known who fired the
shot, and it is believed that the shoot.
ing was accidental.
~The Italian owner of Zoe DB. re.
cently offered “Knap” McoCarthy a
yearly salary of $5000 to take of
his stable on the other side. He fur-
ther agreed to provide *‘Kaap” with a
nqbby residence and to have a track
made on the American plan. These
allurements failed to cateh *“‘Knap-
sack.’ He says he is too old to learn
the Italian language and has a dread
of the big mill pond.
~ August Belmont has imported two
wery fashionably bred brood:mares,
which he purchased of Leopold de
~There is great scope for choice of
materials in the pretty light and thin
woolens that are supplied at all good
drape:y establishments, and are very
serviceable; also in the multitude of
zephyrs and cambrics, plain and em-
broldered,
~The lingeris is delicate, being es.
pecially remarkable for its simplicity
and good taste, A matinee deep
terra cotta plush, opening over a fi
vest of flesh colored silk, held in place
by bands of gold embroidery, was very
effective,
—Upon straw hats there are perfect
masses of flowers, prineipally young
ivy leaves and opening rossbuds, The
flexible stems, fresh foliage and
scarcely formed buds are so perfectly
imitated as to look quite natural; one
would think they had just been
plucked by an unwary hand. Upon
our bonnets they are most gracefully
effective, coming out of folds of biack
tulle or loops of ribbon fnely striped
over a light ground,
~For traveling, excursions in the
country snd morning walks on the
besch, the sallor costume is still in
favor, but rot as exclusively so as it
has Deen of late years. It Is made
chiefly of summer serge or light cloth,
either plain or checked; the bodice 18
trimmed with soutache, braid or gal-
loons, with plastrons between large re-
vers; large buttons are made of leather
with patterns imitating wrought iron.
The leather belt is fastened with a
buckle of wrought iron in the Egyptian
Assyrian or Russian style,
~Small capotes of flowers are
charming, but rather fragile, and
always extremely dressy, They are
worn for visiting, weddings, races, and
for driving in a privale carriage; they
are made either with or without
strings. Some have the crown com-
posed of foliage, with a border of How.
ers; others are of white puffed tulle,
over which it would seem a careless
band had strewn anybow a profusion
of long stemmed Russian violets, with
an aigrette of the same, mixed with
golden buttercups in front; the strings
of green velvet; or else ths capote is of
openwork yellow straw, trimmed with
small, blue cornflowers, a bow of black
| moire ribbon and black stripes,
~ Nearly all the French chemises are
sacqueshaped, slightly fitted to the fig-
ure, with very short sleeves, which be.
come mere bands upon the shoulders,
{| They are cut V-shaped back and front,
ior ronnd in front and pointed in the
| back. Some are in the Hecamier style,
{draped with a {fullness from the
| shoulder, after the manner of the gar-
| ment in the famous portrait by David.
{ These chemises are trimmed with inser
| tions and edgings of French Valen-
| clennes lace, run through with tiny
| ribbons of any color preferred, Chem-
ises of linen cambric or linen batiste are
| sometimes made with square fronts of
| insertion below the bands. Boome of
| the prettiest shapes are fnished with
| doublebemmed ruffiss of linen eambric,
| edged with real Valencisnnes,
{ Through these ruffles ramow ribboas
{ are run to draw the garment in around
| the shoulders,
| Belted waists are a novelty on long
| coats and cloaks of Suede oolored or
copper colored woven wools in wide di-
agonals, The belt is of embroidered
| gallooon and the same galloon edges
the lapped fronts of the waist, also the
collar and cuffs. On tightly fitted long
coats the embroidery extends hudf way
up the waist iu inverted V.shape, and
the collar of embroidery extends al-
most to meet it, Loog silk cloaks for
driving wraps are light and protect the
wearer from dust, enveloping the
whole costume, They are made of
brown, dark blue or gray striped silks
i of light quality. plaited to a high col-
i lar or yoke in the fashion of Irish
! cloaks, but they have a separate front
{ like that of the Russian circular, over
{ which the arms pass, yet are still cov-
ered by the full sides. A belt or gird.
dle of passewenterie holds the back in
place, then disappears under the sides
and crosses the separute inner front.
~A very preity street dress for a
young lady is made of gray Hennetta
cloth; skirt in side plats; long draped
apron, the Jewer edge finished with
picked-out rose ruching. The west
front plaited in the upper portion, left
full over the bust, and again plaited at
the waist, where a wide belt in three
folds croseas over the plails, Below this
is a short section of the goods, shi
into the apron, which falls
tom of the dress. The body
ge B5ii:
Hi
THT
il
:
it
s%s BE
li 4