*INREST. BY FLORENCE A. SONES, WHEN dew.wet branches wave and toss In summer breeze, And shining stars reflect themselves In tranquil seas. Life seems so sweet that 1 oft wish "Twould always last; 1 quick forget the dreary days hat marked my past. But when the gray clouds sweep across A moonless sky, It seems the days have leaden wings As they go by. The happy, bright, sunshiny hours Forgotten soon ; In dreading bitter, wintry days I pass my June, Ah! human hearts are thankless things, God's ear alone Is tuned to hear the thankful words Above the moan. Godey's Lady's Book. Denis and Two Mausoleums--St. the Pantheon. HELEN EVERTSON SMITH, In all the environs of Paris there is nothimg that seems farther from the city, the people, or the institutions of the ron ties the famous old Cathe- dral, now called Denis, Owing to the care and good taste with which the restorations ordered by Napoleon IIL. were effected by the just- ly celebrated architect Viollet-le-Due, the ancient lock of the church itself has been admirably preserved, and, though the suburb of St. Denis has a population of nearly 050,000 persons mostly engaged in manufacturing pur- suits, there 1s nothing in the character of the sleepy looking hamlet, which im- mediately surrounds the church to sug- gest modern days or thoughts. We find ourseives in fact only a few miles away from the fortifications of modern Paris, but in thought we are far back amid the early centuries. Like that of many another church the site was not chosen for its own beauty, or for the convenience of the people who were supposed to worship within its walls. When its foundations were laid, in A. D. 275,the spot must have been a wilderness, but as St. Dyonisius, or St. Denis, the patron saint ot I'rance was supposed to have been buried here, after hi: martyrdom on the heights of the Basilica of St. to satisfy the sacerdotal mind that this was the place to build a chapel. ly four hundred years later Dagobert the chapel andhanded it over to the buiit an abbey in the same marshy and desolate neighborhood. War followed war and with ils varying fortunes, varied those of the Basilica. Too far from Paris to be easily defended, and too precious to the faithful, from its sacred associations, to be neglected, tered and destroyed, and as often being repaired and rebuilt. ¥rom the first the French kings seem to have fancied St. Denis asa place of royal sepulechre. Believing as they most devoutly did in the directly divine origin of their power, it seemed fitting to them that their bones should France's patron saint, far from common clay of the people who were so honored as to be ruled by them. Among the few parts of the older edi- fice that are still remaining is the crypt. Here under low, vaulted ceilings, be- hind 1ron-barred arches of the Boman- only the stone but the wood which was to be used in the edifice, he directed the artisans, and gave counsel to those to whom the ornamental parts of the work had been entrusted. Inflamed by pious zeal, and spurred by the pres- ence and exhortations of the abbot, the workmen toiled su diligently that the church was completed in three years— a celerity unparalleled in the annals of the vast constructions of the Middle Ages. The new edifice was consecrated in 1144, Its ornamentation was of the richest and most elaborate character, The stone-work of the interior was literally covered with a profusion of decorative carving, Every window was ablaze with painted glass.” Of those win- dows only one 1s now existing. Most of the present windows having been put in during the reign of Louis Philippe. The royal tombs that have been re- stored to St. Denis of course form its chief claim to attention. The oldest tomb in the church is that of Clovis transported thither after its discovery in 1807 during the rebuilding of the church of St. Genevieve, which was founded by that king. Its date is 511. The most curious of the ancient tombe is that of Fredegonde, originally erected in St, Germain des Pres: it is covered with a singular sort of mosaic composed of fragments of divers colored marble and of slender rods of copper. Over three hundred parsonages of royal race have been interred in St, Denis including forty-six kings and twenty three queens. The church at present contains one hundred and sixty seven monuments, but only fifty two were originally erected there. The coarse, sensual, treacherons Francis First, who by dint of a rather superior order of intelligence and some personal graces managed to gain an undeserved reputation as a gentle- man. Here by his side, reclin- ing on couch, lies his first uneen, poor, neglected Clande of i ed above them, they appear again, children who preceded them three of their maturity and tomb, ' i The marble images of Henry II grew to to the i | | i i | i i i i i i that remain after the storms of revolu- tion. The preservation of these is owing to the efforts of Alex. Lenoir and his wie Catherine de Medicis also The latter has giving the impression of small mental guised by great craft, No statue attracts so much attentionas he figure of the lovely and unfortunate of her husband, slain—both of them for the sins of their ancestors. Their cruel and undeserved misfortunes have cast a melancholy interestaround them, every where, even in these idealized the degenerate Bourbon race show so plainly that one does not nder that the sorely tried and desper- their proud, intolerant and intolerable wife were of cruel natures, but they believed in their own ‘Divine right to rule over a people whom they con- sidered to be as much their own ina- lienable private property as a farmer of our day considers his cattle, which even a mob tional museum. was able to save are now back again in on through the nave to the portico, we reach the entrance to the tower. Ascending this to its height—two hun- dred feet—we gaze out upon a mag- nificent panorama. Villages embow- the features which their originals wore as if they had been models of all the virtues; which they probably deemed themselves to have been. jut where are their ashes? The most of the kings of France had de- served nothing but hatred from the served. It is childish to wreak venge- ance npon dead men's bones, but ali nations have revolution and when the time came in France the “sacred” sepulchres of St, were thought but for their own pleasure or glory, and of royal ladies to whom mercy had been unknown, were treated no worse than those of princes who bad realiy cared a little for their people sud princesses who had—in their dif- ferent ways——suffered as much from kingly caprice as had their subjects; pll were re flung into great ditches and covered with quick lune, In three days fifty-one tombs were destroyed, the riches of the wealthiest treasure chamber in Europe had disap- peared, the roof of the church itself was demolished for the sake of its leaden sheathing, and the venerable edifice stood open to the storms of heaven that seemed destined to sweep from the face of the earth the last vestige of the an- ci nt resting-place of the kings of France. The great door-ways, the towers and the eryptare parts of the edifice erected by Abbot Buger in 1140; the nave and transept date from the days of St. Louis, but have been so much restored that they are practically new. The Abbe of St. Denis must have been wr visiting in the days of Abbot Suger! We are told that “the stones for the new building were taken from a quarry near Pontoise, and the nobles who dwelt in the vicinity joined with the workmen in the task of dr the blocks of stone to the site of the church. The first stone of the new edifice was Isid by the young king, Louis VIL, as- sisted by his queen, Eleanor of Aquit- sine, that flirtatious royal lady wiose subsequent passion for handsome Henry Plantagenet, afterward Henry 11, of England, leading to her divorce and marriage to her English lover, caused so much soandal in royal circles in those days. The king and queen, aud the prelates and nobles who were resent as well, flung rich offerings of feel into the foundations. Suger tho a wo personal : ug was, gave super- De once tii work; aa sun like strips of From the tomb of an extinct grandeur we gaze upon the distant magnificence Invalides, the Are de Triomphe del’ Etoile, and the dome of the Pantheon rise against the clear sky instinct with the powers, hopes and memories of the great French people. From the tomb of the kings we turn to the Pantheon—that temple now ded- ieated ‘to its great men by a grateful country,” [Aux grands hommes la pat: ie reconnaiscante, | which was first ’ to departed genius, Clovis built upon or near this site a church to St. Genevieve, “the patron saint of Paris.” This was burnt and rebuilt and endured many changes un- til in the eighteenth century the canons, who disliked their old gothie church, urged upon Louis XV to give them a fashionable new ome. This edifice was also dedicated to Bt. Genevieve, but in 1791, when turning and over-turning, was the order of the day, the Conven- tion decided to convert this—then the pewest of Parisian churches, into a kind of memorial temple, naming it the Pantheon, and carving across its front the inscription already quoted, Twice have the words been erased-—in 1822, snd in 1801—and as many times re- newed. The Pantheon is a magnificent buld- ing better suited for its present uses as a mausoleum than for religious ser- vices, A huge colonnade of lofty Cor- inthian columns reached by a broad platiorm of steps, forms the portico. intering by three handsome bronwe doors we see that the floor plan is that of a Greek oross, over the centre of which rises a vast dome. Many beau- tiful sculptures adorn the interior, and the work of decorating the walls with frescoes has been proceeding for sev- oral years, Paris has not always been of the same mind about who should be admitted to sepulture in this temple of fame, and those who have been honored to-usy by one portion of the populace, have some- times been thrust out to-morrow by an- other faction, yet most of those who have been admitted here have deserved the honor. Even Marat, the brutal chief of an insane rabble, was no worse a man than were at least one-fourth of the kings whose sshes were scattered from Bt. Denis, and most of the men whose remains now repose or have at have benefitted the : pve! age in which they tron saint of the Pe~theon to-day. His tomb is in the orypy, but to judge by the piles of wreaths and other devices in immortelles bearingfhis name, which even now, after a lapse of five years cover the steps leading to the portico and the floor of the portico itself, as well as much of the interior spuce, the whole church may be regarded as be- longing to him. Dying without receiv- ing the last sacraments of the Catholi: chureh, Hugo was, according to its laws, refused sepulchre in consecrated ground. The French people had de- oided that he must be placed in the Pantheon, hence the cross was removed from its dome, and the church became once more & National not a Christian temple. re A fp How to Make Money at Home. BY MARY ¥, ROBINSON, The women who are at liberty to go out from the home circle and seek re- munerative work, are much more for- tunate than many who are apparently sheltered and above want, but one of these home mothers or msters would oft-times gladly exchange places with that other, who goes daily to office or shop, if she por but realize from the sacrifice n few dollars, with which to carry out some cherished plan or ar- dent desire of her heart. Again, home cares are such as to preclude the thought of going out of the house, even for a few hours a day, to engage in paying work, while at the same time the necessity of earning money is inex- orable, It has been my great pleasure to be able to assist many such needy ones in securing an mcome and the very satis- factory results, in 8 number of cases, encourage me to tell others of the sim- to yield money in case of necessity. The woman who has a single asceom- plishment in which she excels, musie, | elocution, dancing, French, Latin, painting or embroidery is forearmed for an emergency, snd | and persistent, cannot fail to find a place in which to exercise her ability; ! but the woman who has domestic skiil ! money-making, if she will, unlimited market, sixty-five millions of wople who hanger three times daily! sale and any of the centres of popula tion offer a constant demand. An example of the truth may be found in nearly every city of the Union { and still there is abundant room for others, the market never being fully | supplied. Four years ago 1 went, one day, into my kitchen to find my faith- ful middle-aged housekeeper weeping over a letter which she had just re- ceived, telling her that a daughter, the young mother of four children, one a i three weeks old baby, had been for- | saken by her worthless husband and | sick, penniless and alone she appealed to her mother for help. Her earnings had been spent for others dependent { upon her; winter, an Jowa winter, was iclose at hand and the strength and { courage of this woman, not strong at best, was all that could save six help. { less ones from want. | “What can I do?” she moaned, over- | whelmed at the prospect before her. { A half dozen loaves of bread, fresh, | light and dainty brown, were upon the | table—embodying 1a their perfection | her finest accomplishment and, indeed almost her only superior degree of { skill in any direction. I glanced at the shining loaves and and a week lator with her little family about | her, in a neat tenement she was busy at work surmounting the difficulties of the situation by bread-baking. The | first experiment was a half-dozen loaves furnished a grocer who advertised the new venture with such success, that, within two weeks, her orders amounted | to forty loaves per day. Within three {months the business had grown so {large as to warrant a better location | and greater facilities for conducting it properly, and the woman secured a place on a business street, bought a re- volving oven of one hundred loaf ea pacity and branched out with the sign Home Bakery above the door-way of the new establishment. She secured | competent help and added various other cooked foods with the result that | its proprietor has now a goodly bank | eredit, and one of the most thriving lines of business in this little city of | eight thousand inhabitanta, Another lady, who met with financial reverses, lives in the elegant home | which she has been enabled to hold by the income secured by cake-baking. Another busy little mother who feels the need of ‘just a few more dollars,’ { with which to give a talented child the | advantages of cultivation, supplies a grocer with fresh doughnats daily. Dealers in pantry supplies in cities gladly retail pa cooked food since it | proves a drawing card by way of in- viting custom. { replied, “You can bake bread; mi a and sells eighty thousand molasses cook- ies per week. A Minneapolis woman furnished the Woman's Exchange four hundred dollars’ worth of Dutch or Cottage cheese last year. Numberless similar instances might be quoted in gro of the fact that a single article of omestio excellence may made =» source of income, If you need money or know of an- other who does, whom you may assist and encourage, ask the question, “In what oular art of cookery do you excel?” Try its preparation and sale. If in a large eity, you cannot fail to find & market. Induce some dealer to Br sale, Main if excellence of qual earefully regarded with cost Juaiiay te gar can r you will not fal to realize handsomely from the ven- ture. Put into the work the same de- voted attention and earnestness that a loftier would readily claim at your and the result will prove most ying and richly remuner- ative, —7he Housewife. ~ Green B, Morris has had singular] A Happy Valley. This title carries me away back to a time when 1 was eight years old. I am standing on tip-toe, on a high chair, peering into a witching old cupboard over one of those lovely old red brick fire-places. My aunt has the toothache, and there is some laudanum or sgome- thing in there which she has sent me to get. While I am looking for the vial, half my eyes are scanning the titles of some old books piled away in orderly fashion, as having passed their day. Never was a gold-hunter picking up ocoasional nuggets so fascinated as I in those days with a chance at picking over books; so, just as I hngeringly placed my hand on the little red glass, my eye caught the title, ‘*‘Rasselas; or the Happy Valley.” Charming! A volume of enchantment! I am sure my dear suntie never knew how much leasure she gave—a pleasure that lives in memory forever—when she allowed me to take the book down and read it. Curled up in corners, or sitting on the door-stone, the story went on, and the veil of enchantment spread over the world, and the old “gulf,” with its half burnt logs and blackberry bushes, where I went with my little pail for spring water, grew strangely full of hidden caves and mysterious foot-paths. The nameless fascination of these memories wns over me as I wandered not long ago through the mazes of this | Southern California Happy Valley. | My eyes had been hungry for the sight | of Nature's own woods and wild tan- | gles, and water tinkling came along be- | cause it could nothelp it,among the rocks { and dappled shadows. There they were, | as though summoned by the wave of the magician's wand—the old scenes of | chuldhood—and 1 listened for the voices of brothers and sisters, and then for { the voices of my own children, but the | voices cameo only as an echo of memory. | But there were the veritable woods, and | the clear, sweet water, and the chances stones, with the chances for slipping in, and the mossy old by the side of the stream, and I could eatch and recognize the sources of the sweet day-dreams of old, which were not born of earth, and will only find their realization in the land of the immor- | tals, For all the sweet deliciousness of this | coast climate, we who love the wild | woods and have been used to rambling by the side of tumbling water-falls, miss them more than we like to own, if we have come here to and I was so glad to know of this logs | over their rocky beds all summer long. It seems that we cannot have all the igood things in one place; valley is 80 pnear—only 50 miles north ing at the farm- house and then betook ourselves to the deep, cool shadows of the woods, We spread our blankets down on the soft grass, and leaned against a fallen tree, where therunning water cooled the air, and we ate our noon lunch and then I took my work, some muslin aprons I was embroidering for Christmas, and my husband read aloud. I always want someting good to read in such a wild place any- where. The scenery is made wilder or grander, the book is better, and alto- gether they make delicious memories ‘or two years | had been on the coast and it seemed as though I had lost the picture of the old forest trees, with their lapping folds of light and shade, and now I took my boards and colors and toned up. In the old days, in the far-away East, my father used to come in from his mowing, tired and faint, and say: “Here little girl, take the jug and get me a good drink from the cold spring;” and off I would run, down into the deep woods to the spring under the roots of the maple, and how sweet the water was, But I thought, as I sat here day after day, and worked and read, and dipped up water in my hands and drank; thought the water here among these California mountains was just as sweet, It is wonderful that thisvalley should have come into the clutches of specu- lators, or that it is being ab- sorbed into those ‘Spanish grants.” There is one of these grants lying north, South another; and a Gov- ernment survey, a few years ago, left these few miles of valley between them, so it was speedily taken up by homesteaders, There are about 15 families and not one of them wants to sell. The main valley is broken up hills and benches, ed with oak their bases, affording fine og portunities for picturesque homes, ’ Neryi hing plenty of rain, and there is no malaria their troubles, the same as elsewhere. ir | i $ | ! and one can step on the cars here, ing, but, of course, quite common-place; and now I will tell you how I went: We-—the two heads of this family set out with horse and phacton at five o'clock of a September morning. the sun was hot. Were it not for one group of rocks reaching out into the sen, oalled La Jolla (pronounced La Hoya), we might, by starting when the tide began to ebb, drive more than 30 miles the beach to where the road leaves the coast. Ast is, we have to elimb a mountain, and then striking down to the sea and mind. 5 on mountains and ocean eave it, Rural New Yorker. HORSE NOTES, y. Y. erably, -The Woodburn yearlings were sold at Monmouth Park, Saturday, July 12th, ~Ed Corrigan has shipped string of horses to Brighton Beach, —The Cleveland, Buffalo and Roch- purses will close on Monday, July 21. ~The Tongueull Trotting Assocla- tion of the Province of Quebec, has one i 1 3 leave their imprint On the left, guard the land. You don’t see country, of course, but you see the sea, which the last wave left, to get out and linger, and pick them up. i this drive; the roads are smooth, and it should avail yourself of courtesy and take the beach road high and dry on land, were 1t not for one thing. Every few miles, ti deep bed of a river coming mn to the aon down, and then away up again, and this does not help along on a long drive. We pass several fine towns, with fine hotels, some of which grew up on the outskirts of the late “boom,” to look upon than the hotels are the | homes—tasteful cottages embowered in trees and flowers, all grown ap within We hard to choose between them. | We had expected to spend the night | reached there; the horse was in good trim, and we drove on over the hill to San Luis Rey, an old mission, in a beaatiful valley running down to the sea. There we found a place where there were rooms for travelers; got our supper, took a walk up to the old church—abode, as usual, fast crumbling down; had a good sleep in a clean room, and started about five the next morning to climb over another eo of hills into the Santa Margarita Valley. Here is another vast estate of thousands of acres, onginally a Spanish grant, like that of Ban Luis Rey. Each of thes: ranches has a strong fence running all around it, with gates which the traveler must open and shut. Multitades of fine oattle range from year to year over these princely estates, and that is pretty much all that is done with them. noticed stacks of hay piled up nst the necessities of a drought ° Batita Margyita is a lovely valley, especially toward the upper part, where our valley branches Tr mi still rans in little rivers through the great river bed. The Banks wre with i 3 | i -—jgighton and Lisimony, nursed especially for the Realization stakes, mel with accidents previous to ha race — The Sire Brothers have purchased the 4-year-old ch, f. Princess Bowling, by imp. Prince Charley, dam Kate Bowling. ~ August DBelmont’s down Saturday, July 5th was heavy and 122 pounds were too much for her, George Hankins Uncle Bob in ~The gelding Bub McLaughlin beat Alick K. in a match race for $1000 at Fleetwood Park Monday, July ~A stallion named Robinson D,, New York, has been udentified as Lhe Maine trotter Daby Deane by Daniel Boone, —The question of giving a $20,000 1803 or 1804 will be discussed at the next meeting of the Trotting Horse Dreaders’ Association. the Morris and Monmouth tracks have been bailt, The smaller the track the the jockey, —A foot board in front of the lower who have a penchant tor fine hosiery — Reckon’s six furlongs, with 120 pounds up, in 1.13§ at Monmouth Park Tuesday. July 8, was a better perform. ance than Fide's 1.104, with 116 pounds up, made on the down-grade track at Morris Park. ~At the recent sale of J. B, Hag- gins Rancho del Paso yearlings, which took place on June 16, L. J. Rose among his numerous purchases paid $6800 for the bay colt by imp. Sir Mod- red, out of School Girl by Pat Malloy, but the colt died on its arrival in Cali. fornia. ~The Chicago Stable is still adding to its already formidable strength, During the week they purchased the 4-year-old filly Runinl and the 3-year- old colt Hocksey, both out of selling races, All told there are about thirty. five animals in the string, and near all of them fit to race. -dJ. B. sailed for on Wednesday, July and with Ma +, the Superintenden Paso Stud, 1t is fair presume that their mission is to make purchases of English stallions and broodmares, to add to the already resources of this great California Our Paris Lettar, The races, especially the Derby and Chantilly, have made Paris very gay. All Chantilly was filled with merriment; the chatean, the park, the magnificent stables of the Prince of Conde, the lakes and little rivers which run to- wards Baint Firmin, all were full of overflowing life, and the turbulent crowd struggled, ran, snd cheered itself hoarse upon the besutiful lawns The races have also been the esuse of a display of new toilettes of greater elegance and beanty, if that were pos- sible, than ever before. The combina- tion of colors was simply magnificent; many white dresses of vigogne, serge foulard and embroidered milk, had panels of lilao silk with sleeves of silk or velvet to match. Bame panels were of pistache-green, delicate mauve, or corn color. One dress, of gold and mauve, had the crusage studded with little, gold-headed nails and the capote wos composed entirely of gold threads with a tiny butterfly in front. A dress of marine-biue foulard was ornamented with designs of small, white japonicas; on the bottom wes a bias gem of pistache-green fussor veiled with richly embroidered black lace, the whole sbout twelve inches in depth. The corsag , draped ‘‘en fichn.” had a plastron to mstch the trimming but veiled with green lace. Slight drapings of tussor were brought from the seams beneath the arms to a point at the bot- tom of the waist, in front, and held by | 8 jeweled clasp. Another dress in black sa striped bin wh, with aubergine, was made on the bias, | skirt, corsage andsleeves. The corsage | was gathered at the bottom of the back, | and crossed on the left side where it was buttoned. The garniture for this | dress was very pretty; on the bottom was a deep fiounce of black Losca tulle { with aube rgéne ribbon ran through the | hem. The stripes on the skirt were visible under the tulle, thus giving it a | very pretty effect. On the corsage, two wings of the | same tulle, with aubergine ribbon, | formed a sort of camial or cape. This | trimming is extremely novel and very original, It has the great advaniage i of overcoming the style of straight | gkirts that are so difficult to trim, and which alwavs have the same effect. | Camails are worn more than ever. The | latest designs, seen at Chantilly, were | of old rose cloth with a deep yoke in Voge. Temi A on velvet completely covered with gold | embroidery. The two pelerines, or | pather flounces, passing over the | shoulders and tapering to the points of { the yoke, were in cloth cut in dee | roints, and each point was finished wit | 8 tassel of old rose silk and gold thread. | We ean reccommend this noweity forthe | charming effect it produces to say | nothing of all the little tassels sus- | pended from every point and falling | one over the other, thus giving weight { to the garment and greater elegance | than when the points are left be | blown hither and yon by every wind { that blows. toy a | Robes of black satin, embroidered | with flowers and trimmed elaborately | with jet passementeries, are in great | demand. One had five rows of jet | galloon around the bottom of the skirt; | the corsage had a small yoke of velvet, | both in front and back, from the lower ledge of wiuch depended heavy, jet fringe. Grenadinesare also profusely trimmed { wizh jet; sometimes every seam of the | corsage and sleeves sparkle with small | grelots of jet and pearls. Jackets of guipure lace orpamented | with precious stones are taking the { place of the Bolaros, but if for street wear are made of plainer material and | trimmed with transparent beads. Parasols seem to be veritable walking | flower beds. They are of black lace { povered with pink roses, pale ‘ecru | gauze with tangible grasses and mar- | guerites, and white lace covered with | delicate forget-me-nots or velvety pan- | gies. Small fruits, as cherries, currants, etc., are sometimes used and it would pot be surprising, in the search for novelties, if the vegetable kingdom { ehould ba invaded. Of course these fancy parasols are for the races, the carriage, or full dress oceasions, those of plainer style and | material being used for the promenade, | mountain resorts, seashore, ete. It is whispered that already the lead- | ing designers of Paris are at work | planning autumn colors and styles, a fact not to be doubled when one con- | mders the time necessary to complete | such work. There has peen so much said regard. ing ladies’ riding costumes that we will answer only a few questions. A lady in mourning should always wear crape on her hat, snd just as gentlemen wear. ing mourning do. The collar and sleeves shouid be of white cloth, not of black crape. For little boys, black tussor is less heavy than wool and more elegant. A little boy might wear as a riding costume, a sailor suit in black tussor with a black oollar, nothing white only the points which ornamen the collar, the bottom of the sleeves, and the fronts of the blonse. Short breeches of tussor with leggins of cloth. A ssilor cap of black cloth or sa large straw hat, but the cap is prefer. able. Frrion Li ry iad or if¢ i g¥ i Eg | A sis is i 5 i
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