*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
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