Watering tho llllls.
"Its wsterelli the bills from Hl* chambers."— P.
civ., 13.
Oh ' the rippling and the learning,
Falling not Iroin dawn till gloaming,
Where the rapids are descending, as for ages
tlioy have done;
On each downward platlorni taking
Just a moment's rest, then breaking
kit© sweet enchanting laughter at
triumph won;
AU tho latent echoes waking
With the tun!
Si Weeping Irotn their rocky portal,
Kobcd at onco in light immortal,
Bringing infinite reveal nigs from tho silences
prolound;
How the little oldies whiten,
And the longer teaches brighten,
Am the showers ol brilliant dewdrope ou their
slivory slopes rebound;
Falling into gems that lighten
All around.
When tho snnlieams come unbidden
To behold the marvel hidden,
All tho watera take them captive, to adorn
their raiment white;
But the rainbow tells the wonder
Ot the radiance lying under,
AaA the sun in regal beauty stoops to elaim
his own by right,
Till the ripples fall asunder —
Lost in light!
On the brink the moeses glisten,
And the grasses stop to listen
To the never-ending music ol the waters
Hashing by;
Overhead tho elm-trees stately.
In their hearts rejoicing greatly
At the springs ol welcome coolness that be
neath their strongholds lie,
Spread th'-ir myriad leaves sedately
lo the sky.
When at night the stars assemble
In the hu blue heavens, ami tremble
At their own reflected splendor, on the torrent
home awuy.
Then tho laughing waves discover
How the moon—earth's timid lover-
Watches for the perloct mirror they hare
broken in their play;
Watches—with the stars above her
Till the day.
Through all seasons' varied phrases,
Still the waters speak their praises
Ot the Power that sweeps them outward, in I
their fullness to the deep;
AU their rush and tumult guiding,
For each drop a path dividing,
Till In far-off breadths ot or can each its des- ;
lined place shall keep,
And at last, in calm subai'ling.
Fall asleep.
—Mary Rowlrt, in Sunday Magaiint. j
JACK'S GREAT PERIL.
I never saw such a change in a man in i
my life! When we hut met, Jack—
well, I must not give his real name, con
sidering what I am going to relate, so
I'U call him Jack I'allant—was, as he
had ever ls'on since I knew him. one of
the lightest-hearted, cheeriest fellows in
the world, full of fun and up to every
thing, and a gentle and tender a a
woman, with the courage of a lion. And
aow, what did I find him? Even though ;
hut three months had elapsed, he had
become a grave, dejected, saddened man
—in a word, hardly recognizable, either
mentally or physically. I was shocked,
and of course Le saw that I was. He
came to see me, indeed, the moment he
heard I was in town, that I might learn
from his own mouth what had happened,
instead of at second-hand.
Jack had always been more or less a
spoiled boy—only sons are always more
or less spoiled—and having lost his
mother when quite a child, it was not
wonderful that his poor old dad made
much of him. Hut he had taken the
■foiling kindi y. and beyond making him
Erhaps a little idle and thoughtless, it
d done him no harm. There was no
harm in the fellow; he spent more money
than he should, hut many young soldiers
do that without coming to much grief
in the long run. and his father, a soldier
before him, regarded the failing leniently. '
paid his bills and looked pleasant. Be
yond adding that he was a rather short,
dapper little fellow, I need not say much
more about him ; I have only to try and
put into coherent shape the strange and
tragical business which had so fearfully
altered him.
He was coming to town one autumn
evening for a few days' leave from (lun-
BerslioTt. whers he was quartered. I can
see him as plainly as if I had been there,
springing into the first earring- that
offered room, without regard to who was
in it; for he was the lenst fastidious of
men. without the slightest particle of
" haw haw " pride and nonsense, or that
stand-off-ishncsa of manner, too USUAI
with men in his position; ready to make
himself happy wherever he wss, or in
whatever company.
But it so happened, it appears, on this
occasion that he got into an empty car
riage ; at least he thought so, for it was
twilight, and he did not observe for the
first moment the figure of a woman,
seated in a further corner, dressed in
dark clothes and thirkly veiled.
The sudden disi-overy that he was not
alone rather startled him for a moment,
and it may he. as lie said, that the eve
ning before having been n guest night at
mess, his nerves were not quite up to
their usual tone. He was not the lad,
however, to be long in such a situation
without making some remark to his fel
fow-traveier, though in this case an un
usual hesitation to do so came over him,
•wing to her mysterious appearance and
extreme stillness. The between-light*
•fthe carriage lamp and tfie evening sky
prevented him from discerning details:
but there she sat, perfectly rigid, and
with not a vestige of her face visible,
through the thick hliu k vail.
%" Ahem! ahem!" he said at last, shift
ing one seat nearer to her and nearly op
posite:*" I hope I have not intruded on
jou; I thought the carriage was empty,
1 may be tfislurbing you, I fear." He
woula say anything, in a random sort of
way, to break the fee, as he railed it.
Ho answer. A long pause, " Very
singular," he thonglit; and he moved to
a scat exactly opposite to the figure,
making another commonplace observa
tion. No response, or any movement.
" Asleep, I suppose," he said to him
self; and he sat quietly watching her,
while the train rattled on for a mile or
two. A station was reached and a stop
page made, with the usual accompani
ments of screech snd whistling. Jid slam
ming of doors, hut without producing
any change in the posture of the occu
pant cf the opposite corner. The train
ttgnin moved on. "Cnn't ho asleep,' lie
muttered. "\Vlint's the mutter with
li or i>'
'J he window wits hut clone; lie lot It
down with n tremondoUH clutter unil
bung, remarking tlint " he hoped, en the
oveiung was fine, the wonthor warm and
the carriage clone" (for he declared to
me there wan a peculiar odor hanging
about which struck him from the first)
"she would not olyect to a little air."
Still no reply. Then ha said "he
feared she was not. well. Would she
like him to pull the hell for the guard
and have tho train stopped again f" Hut
nothing lie could nay or do elicited any
sign ofiife from hor.
Jack now became seriously uncom
fortable and alarmed on her account,
lie thought she could not be asleep, hut
had fainted. Suddenly it crossed his
mind that she was dead. Night had
now closed in. but as the last tinge of
twilight faded from the sky the carriage
lamp gained its full power and revealed
every otneet more plainly than hitherto.
Jack leaned toward the motionless
form. A long lilaek veil, falling from a
close-fitting hat-like bonnet, enveloped
nearly the whole upper part of her
figure; Indeed, on close Inspection, it
hardly looked like an ordinary veil, hut
more like a large thin, black silk hand
kerchief. ller dress _wns of common
black stuff, much worn and frayed, from
amid the folds of which appeared the
ends of a piece of rope that must have
been fastened round her waist j and one
hand, encased in an old. ill-tittmg black
glove, lay placidly on her lap.
Full of uncomfortable sensations, Jack
was about to lift the veil, when, for the
first tintc, the figure moved; its hand
stole slowly from underneath the folds
of the dress, and the veil was gradually*
lifted and thrown up over the head.
Involuntarily ray friend shrank back
into the corner of his scat, for a face was
revealed to liini which no one could have
looked upon without a sense of awe. It
was that of a woman somewhat past
middle age, thin, haggard ahd pale to a
degree which only <feath could parallel.
The features, finely chiseled and projxir
tioned, showed that at one time 'here
must have l>cen supreme lieauty, while,
though the iron-gray hair looked a little
disheveled and unkempt. Mi* glance of
th eye was steady, cnlm and determined.
In this glance {ay, chiefly, the awe in
spiring expression of the face, for, in ad
dition to the penetrating look, there was
a persistcneey in it. and at tie' same time
a fascination, <juite terrible. It fixed
itself upon Jack from the first moment
that eye no t eye, and for - veral minutes
not a word was spoken* s either side.
Presently, however, lie tried to pull him
self together, and to assume his usual
light-hearted manner, which had thus
for a minute been so strangely and unusu
ally disturbed, and !)•• said, briskly
" I feg your pardon; I was afraid you
were ill."
She slightly bent tier head, but sjMik'
not a word, nor withdrew her glance
He felt more and more that it was
costing liini an effort to be himself. Her
■low, stealthy, allsdt lady like demeanor,
nddtsl greatly to the effect already pro
duced, and a curious suisatlon was grad-
Ually orwpiu over him. tflMt Impossl
hie as it might seem—that face was not
strange to him. Little as he. with bis
temperament, was given to speculation
or introspection, he found hiraseif striv
ing to look bark for some event or cir
cumstance in his life which might giv
him a clew. Had lie ever dreamed of
such a face, or had he seen it in child
hood? He was puzzled, affected, nuite
put out. And still the deep. penetrating
eyes were fixed on his, piercing as it
were into his very soul. And the hands!
what were they doing? Taking off the
gloves as with a s<-t, deliberate purpose;
and the long, white, thin, nlmost rlaw
like fingers worked strangely and ner
vously. slowly closing and opening upon
the palm, as If preparing to grasp some
thing.
Again he strove to throw off the un
pleasant. unusual sensation which had
crept over him.
"I can't Stand this." lie thought; "I .
was never so uncomfortable in all my
life! I mast do something, or say some
thing to put a stop to this, to make her
take her eyes off me!"
He moved abruptly to the further
corner of the carriage, and to the same
side on which the woman sat.
" I'll try and dodge her in that way."
he said to himself: " she shall not sit
and glare at me in this fashion!"
Hut she too immediately *hifte<l t,,. r
place, and. rising to her full height,
which was very great, went over to the
seal exactly opposite to him. never for
one single second Tlromung her eyes from
his. lie looked out of the window with
a vague notion of getting out of the car
riage; when suddenly, passing a little
station which he recognized, but at which
the train did not stop, an Idea struck
i him—an idea after his own heart— a
comic idea! He availed himself of it on
'the instant, and assuming an case which
' doubtless sat ill upon him.and which he
was far from feeling, tie pointed with his
j thumb hark toward the station they hail
I iusl passed, as he said mysteriously in a
j hollow voice
" I>o you know that place?"
, She seemed to answer in the afhrma
i live ky a slight inclination of the head xs
j before.
j "Ah! you do. flood! Ixmgmoor."
| he went on; "then I don't mind telling
you a secret." Hi paused. ("I'll
! frighten her," he thought.) "Criminal
lunatics," he said aloud; "I am one of
j them. 1 have just escaped from thovl
He leaned forward, as if to impress h<T
with ids words; she also bent forward
: until her litis almost touched his car, as
■ she hissed into ft;
" So have I!
With what had already gone before,
this put the finishing touch on Jack's
i uneasiness of mind. It was not, as he
1 said, the mere presence of the woman, or
the revelation which bis joke had elic
ited, which scared hiin, though the rir
rumstance in itself might lie unpleasant
enough.
" I should have faced it right away
from the first, as any man would have
done, had it not Iteen for the re
markable influence her face and look hail
upon me; that unaccountable feeling
that she was no stranger to me, it waa.
that unnerved, and even appalled me."
No sooner bad she uttered the words,
"So have I," than Jack sprang to the
cord communicating with the guard's
van, for he felt their truth, and saw" in
them a key to the whole mvstery. Hut
ere liis hand had reached the eord. site
bad seized him round the waist with one
arm as with the grip of a vise, and at
the same instant lie felt one of thoac ter
rible hands at his throat.
Every effort to release himself was
fruitless; her strength seemed superhu
man, and far beyond his as was
her stature. Her face glowered close
down upon his now. still with the same
fell expression.
"The only thing I could have done,"
went on Jack, in describing the scene to
tno —and just lien l , he shall speak lor
liimsi if- "ihc only meant by which I
might perhaps liavo mode Iht relax Iter
hold would Dave boon hy lUmiiiK one
or two tremendous blows witli my right
flat (which was at liberty) at IHT face.
Had It been n man's. there would have
no Invitation; lout it been indeed
that of an ordinary woman, ntsuch a
pats I should not have hesitated to strike
her, to stun her. If 1 could, hy any
means; hut that face, that I seemed to
know so well, yet so mysteriously, I
•could not raise my hand against it, and,
as my arm swung up with the lirsl im
pulse to deal her a blow, it fell helpless
hy my side. Vain were uiy efforts to get
her hand awa) from my throat; there
was a terrible swaying to and fro for a
minute or two, I felt the grip of the long
lingers tighlining, and myself clinking.
' Suddenly we fell, the whole carriage
: seemed to he falling—there WHS a fearlul
| ii rk or two, a strange upheaving of the
I (lisir, a tremendous rattle "and crash— 1
| appeared to he thrown headlong to sonic
I great distance, and—all was darkness!"
I The termination of that deadly strug
gle was brought alsiut in a manner as
marvelous and unlooked for as could
; well have been imagined.
| Home fifty Souis, say, were traveling
in that train—all, save one, in apparent
! security. Jack's life alone was in dan
ger, when, lo! by one of those marvelous
1 coincidences which do happen at times
in the supreme moments of existence,
| the rescue came, but at the cost of many
a life, which but lust IS'fore would have
1 seemed worth treble the price of Jack's.
At the very instant that his might
have dopen led upon another tightening
grip or two from the hand of a maniac a
frightful catastrophe occurred to the
i train. The tire of an engine- wheel
broke and half a dozen carriages were
hurled down a steep embankment. The
scene that luooeeaed is, unhappily, of
! too common :ut <*• urrcnoc to need more
than a word of reference here. Seven
passengers were killed outright and
double that number slightly or badly
hurt, the remainder escaping, as by a
miracle, with nothing else than a severe
shaking.
My friend was among the shaken. He
had Ix-en thrown clear of the debris on
to a soft, grassy spot, half bank, half
hedge; emphatically, his life was saved!
Hut what followed it was that which
caused the suffering— tliat wrought the
terrible change in Jink.
In the darkness of that soft autumn
night he strove, foremost among those
who had been spans!, to render such
help as was rsiHsible to the leas fortunate.
When tlje oflb ial assistance came, and
tires were set blazing to give light, al
most his first rare was to try and mx'k
out his dangerous fellow-traveler. In
the confusion nobody was prepared, of
course, to listen to Jack's account of
her, even had he been prepared then to
give it. She was not. evidently, moving
about among the crowd ; he assured him
self of that. hut supposing her, lik>- him
self, to have • *ca|>ed injury (and he con
cluded that this was Ilk' ly). might she
not. with the stealth ami • tinning inci
dental to hir malady, !■ billing, and bp
thus further eluding detention, become,
with her homiei<lnl mania, as dangerous
to the community at large a som< fl<ree
wild animal would be ? The thought
made him shudder; Is- must lose no time
in assuring himself of her fate.
As (KMin as an approach to order could
bttrolrsd out or that awral chaos, he
had convinced himself Uiat she was not
among the injured. Then he turned to
thodead. His eye fell upon several mu
tilans! and motionless forms, which ban
l>ccn laid in an ominous row at the foot
of one part o :th' embankment. Her*
was not among them; he could find no
trace of her.
At length, as a sfckly dawn was be
ginning to mat e the search easier, lie en
deavored to discover the *pii where the
carriage he had occupied had fiill'-n, and
to retrace his step* (quite to the rear of
th n train, hy the way)to the ptnee where
he found himself lying after the catas
trophe.
Hy this time he had nuid< known
briefly to some officials that a woman
was missing who had ben in the
< arriap" with him. and one or two of
them followed him in his quest. Pres
ently he realized pretty well where lie
had been thrown: he all but identifies!
the snot. Then he scrambled through
the hedge, and there, on the opposite
side, on the sloping hank of a ditch, he
hebeid. lying quite stiil. her dark, un
mistakable form.
lie ran forward, and. bending over
Iter and looking down upon the marble,
up-turned face, saw at a glance that
there was nothing dangerous nlsiut her
now—those terrible eyes were dosed for
: ever. Except for a slight wound on one
temple,whence a little blood had trickled,
and the distorted hut now rigidly closed
hand, which bail been so lately at Ills
throat, she looked ns calm and unln
j jured as if she were merely sleeping.
while dentli had restored for a brief
; period much of that beauty. the traces of
which had struck him wlien her vail
was first lifted,
j One of the surgeons here came hurry
i ing up. in answer to summons,
j "Good heavens!" lie exclaimed ; "here
j she is, th'm, at last! Why, she must
! have been in the train. How on earth
did she manage it?"
"Who is she?" inquired Jack, earn
! estly. witli a strange return of the old.
inexplicable sensation. "Who is she?
You appear to know her. Pray tell roe."
I "Oh. one of our inmates; she got awnv
yesterday morning; no on' knows how
was the answer.
"You are from Longmoor, t'ten. How
long has she been there? What is her
name ?"
"Oh, she has been there up ware' of
twenty years. 1 believe; long before my
time,
"And her name?"
"Upon my word, at this moment, I
ran hardly," went on the doctor, me
chanically passing his fingers over one
of the pulseless wrists hefore him. and
with a calm hesitation which contrasted
strongly with Jack's earnest. Impetuous
manner, "I can hardly remember. I
think she was committed for the murder
of her own little girl. It was n sad cose,
I know. All! her name: 1 have It,
went on the doctor suddenly; "her name
was Pallant—Rachel Pallant."
Jack sprang from the kneeling posture
In which he was as If he had !>een shot.
Why. tliat was his own dead mother's
name! But. pshaw! what of that?
Well, It was rather a startling coinci
dence; that was all. Ay, hut was it all?
Indeed no!
The nquest led to a revelation. Tliat
inquiry fully explained what had been
the nature of the influence which the
weird, pale fnee and strange presence had
had upon my friend.
The strong hut subtle link, which no
time or absence can quite sunder, exist
ing between mother and son, had made
itself felt the instant those tWo sat face
to face, for the unhappy woman was In
deed ticno other than Jack 'sown mother
He lmd never been told—ln fact, Blind
been carefully kept from him. Why
run the risk of clouding for life thai
4<|ight and happy temperament? He
was only four years old wh'-n the dread
ful business happened. Ilenee he had
scarcely known a mother's care; she was
lost to him anil to the world a* com
pletely OH if she had died. Nay, death
would have been a mercy by compari
son, and it was generally assumed that
she was dead; only a very few inlimute
friends knew the truth.
The poor lady's mind had given way
suddenly after tlie birth of a cTiild, who
did not live. Within a week, tlie homi
cidal mania possessed her; by the
merest chance she had been prevented
front committing some frightful outrage
upon her little hoy, my poor friend Jack;
and restraint not having been put upon
her in time—for her malady had hardly
Ix'cn suspected, so unlooked-for was its
appearance site consummated her dead
ly propensity upon her eldest child, a
girl fifteen years of ago—killed her, in a
word, as she lay asleep.
And here, after a lapse of twenty years,
was the climax and end of the tragedy, as
dreadful as anything that had gone be
fore. Tlie order for release, when it came,
brought with it as much suffering ftoall
but one) :w hod the order for captivity.
No wonder that Jock was an altered
man. I have never seen a smile on his
face since— though I trust that time, with
its healing influence, may at least soften
the blow.
Preventing Ih* Spread of lHra<*r.
The commission of experts apiminted
by the National Hoard of Health of the
I'nited State* to prepare H circular <m
hodyitig familiar instruction* for disin
fection ha* made a report to tin 1 board.
Tli'- report isas follows:
Disinfection is the destruction of the
poison* of info tioUB or vontaginus di*-
iwn. Deodorizers arc not ne sarily
disinfectants, and di<infecti<nt* do not
necosorily bear an o<lor. The disin
fectants to be uwd nr": First, roll *ul
phUi*for fumigation ; second, sulphate of
iron (eopixTae) dissolved in wat< r in the
proportion of one an i a half pounds to
the gallon, for soil, sewers, etc.; third,
sulphate of zinc and common salt dis
solved together in water in the propor
tion of four ounces of salt to the gallon
for clothing, lied linen, etc. The com
mission exclude carbolic m id, for the
reason that it is difficult to secure the
proper quality, and it mus'. he uses! in
large quantities to of service. In using
disinfectants in the sick room, the most
available agents are fresh air and -le.an
lin< •**. The towels, clothing. iwd lin<m.
etc.. should, on removal from the patient
and before they are taken from the room,
be placed in a pail or tub of the zinc so
lution, boiling hot if possible. Alldis
chargi-s should either DC received in v<*-
•! containing copperas solution, or,
when ttiis is impracticable, sliould IK
immediat'dy covi r<-d with copperas solu
tion. All vessels U*"i shout the patient
should he cleansed with tlie same solu
tion. I'nnecessarv furniture, espoially
tliat which is stuffed-—carpets and hang
ing*—should, when possible,be removed
from the room at the outset; otherwise
tliev should remain for subwquotit fumi
gation and tfrtni'nt Fumigation with
sulphur is the only practicable method
o| diinfecting Ui< house. F'or this pur
pose the rooms to Is- disinfected must be
vacated. Heavy clothing, blank't*. IM*l
- and other articles which cannot IK
treated witli zinc solutions should be
opened ami cxpoc-d during fumigation
as directed beiow : Close flic rK>ni as
tiglitiy as |>ossihlr, place tlie sulphur in
if.n nans, support' <1 on bricks, contained
in tubs containing a little water. et it
on flre by hot coals or with the aid of a
spoonful of alcohol, and allow the room
to remain closed f<r t w'-nty-fotir hours
For a room almut ten f<**t squar< at least
two pounds of sulphur should IK u*M;
for larger rooms proportionately in
creased quantities. Cellars, yards,
stable*, gutters, privies, cesspools,
wat< r-clos't-.drains,sewer*,etc.,should
IK* frequently and liberally treated with
coppers* solution. The copperas solution
is easily prepared by honging a basket
containing about M*ty pound* of the
t UpIMH in a barrel of water. It is best
to burn articles which have come in
contact with person* sick with nta
giousor infectious diseases. Articles too
valuable to be destroyed should he
treated as follows Oitton. linen, flan
nels. blankets, etc., should be treat'sl
witli the iMiiling zinc solution, introduce
piece bv niece, secure th<<r<>ugb wetting
and boil lor at least half an hour. Heavy
Wiwdrn clothing, silks, far*. stuff"! Ivcd
eovcr*. beds and other articles which
cannot be treated with the solution
should lie hung in the room during fumi
gation, their surfaces thoroughly ex
posed and pockets turned inside out. .Af
terward they should be hung in the open
air, beaten and shaken.
Wages and Cost of hiring.
A Washington letter says Agricultu
ral Commissioner I>e Due Is collecting
statistics concerning the rate of wages
and the cost of living among farrria
horcr* throughout the Cnited States.
Within the last year he lias ascertained
the cost of living and the average rate of
wages paid have decreased about fifteen
per cent, in all parts of the country,
witli the exception. ]>crhap*, of Minne
sota. Colorado, California Oregon and
Washington Territory. In Colorado and
Sew Mexico there ha been an increase
in the rate of wages paid, and a corre
sponding increase in the cost of living,
owing to the demand for lalmr resulting
from the large mining operation* that
hare developed within the last tweive
months. In Slinnesota, and in the other
States and Territories named, the rate of
wages paid and the expense of living is
about the same as it was a year ago.
In New F.ngland the average pay of
farm laborers without lioard is #30.31
per month, against #32 AO a year ago, a
decline of about ten per cent. The aver
age cost of hiring lias fallen from #9.13 a
year ago, to #8.03. a decline of mora than
i thirteen per cent.
In New York, New Jersey and Penn
sylvania, the price* paid for form labor
have fallen HJ per cent, while the cost of
1 living has fallen ten per rent.
In Virginia, Maryland, North and
South Carolina and fleorgia labor I* re
duced about fifteen percent, and the coat
' of living about sixteen per cent.
In Alabama, Mississippi, Isiuisiana
and Texas the decline In wages has been
about five per cent, and the cost of liv
ing about three per cent.
In Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan
and Wisconsin the average rate of wage*
paid to farm hand* is #30.90, while west
of the Mississippi the average is raised to
$33.H1. The price of lalior and the cost
I of living have not materlslly changed
j within the la*t year—the great reduction
' having taken place in 1877.
FOB THE FAIR HEX.
I'M k|| oit V-'nftclea,
Yellow Stockings are reproduced from
f'tfj, days of Khakcspcarc, w j„, Blt ys in
I wefftlii Night": "lie will come to
her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color
she abhors. 1 hese stocking* itrc so
radiant in hue that they are ended old
gold color, and are made of the finest
spun silk, and, that they may not lie
come too common, are very costly.
Some of those go id-colored stockings are
marve ously cToekcd and embroidered
with Marguerite*. Fashion just now
gives to the feet extraordinary import
, nine. Equally costly are elegant silk
stockings of the fashionable colors, hav
j ing a pattern in point duehesse, or Valen
j eiennes lace set in with the Instep and
j ankle surrounded with elaborate and
delieatecloekiiig. Fine soft Lisle-thread
i stockings copy rich Roman ribbons in
I broad stripes of violet, blue yellow ami
green; another style, light in appearance
a* a cobweb, is in pale delicate colors,
j such on sea-green, a light tint of blue,
; rose, lettuce and drab. The clouded
cheva stockings show all the changing
■ delicate Is'nuty of mother-of-pearl, and
others-come in bright plaids to match
I the bandanna trimming* of dresses. It
j is a matter of importance that the colors
: of the plaid in the stocking* should pre
-1 ciaely match those of the dress. For
tin' display of this dainty hosiery the
: shoemakers of fashlonafile estafdish
! ments make street shoe* with from six
to nine straps running straight n< ross
I the foot and ankle, fitted by buttons on
the foot. Another caprice arranges the
! straps in triplets clustered together on
the top of the foot, and at the insU-p
under a tsiw and buckle. These are
mad'' of black French kid. silk or satin
for common wear. The boot and shoe
j generally is cut on the Spanish last to
I present a flnely-ari bed instep.
Notwithstanding the introduction of
paniers, panier basques, double over
skirts and other odd conceits, the polo
nnise is still much worn, and i*. in fart,
i a garment tliat ranks among the indis
peiisables. The latest polonaise shows
wliat is railed familiarly the "<urtain
dnuxry" style. It opens from the fielt
in front and Is gnu efully draped away to
the sides, where it has several carelessly
laid fold* about the hips—a simple re
production of the obsolete Marguerite
polonaise. A charming effect is added
by quantities of satin ribbon set on in
long-looped bows and ends. Grenadines
made up in this style ar< trimmed with
a profusion of lace. Black Breton is pre
ferred. according to the present fancy,
hut black Spanish and thread lace are
also Ui* d A jet beading is sparingly J
set on a* a heading. Many skirts worn :
with these polonaises are made pcrfivtly
plain, of rich satin or velvet; others
an trimni'si in front with a multitude
of flounces or narrow ruffle*. Stout mt- j
-on* have the ruffle* placed on in ra
niid shape, hut ollicrs do not obj to ,
f* ing ruffled across from one side to the ]
other. Some exceedingly ftnc and pretty
French bareges for young ladies are
shown in polonaise* and ovcrskirte,
shirred in various places, sttch a> the
waist, the back across the shoulders, i
behiw tic waist and tic sire vs. (>n the
delieat/'ly-tinted fcir> p dreases a great j
deal of Breton lace is plwed. and also
light-netted fly fringe made of floss silk, j
Pretty crcnm-eolond. -dove-gray, water
gr< en and rohhin*'-egg-blue organdie*
ar< now selling for Un ' mts a yard, and
when trimmed abundantly with Breton
lace and satin rihl*>n compare very fa
vorably witli tlie costliest dr'sw * <i[ the
season. Fashion having cautiously in
trodueed the rather ini-ongruou" > ffect •
of strongW contrasting colors in one
dress. win''li meets witli favor, now
promts#* the most harlequin disorder, i
Great latitude i* permitted, and it will j
le the effort of artist*-* t/> produce a har
monious whole. Autumn bonnet* and
d osses will be a- many hucd a* the dy
ing leaves, and, it is lo be hoped, will be
as picturesque. There are dismal prophe- :
eh - of the poke lonnet. and the demand
for feathers and stuffed hirds is unprerc
dented.
A fan is a universal ap(enilage to a
lady's dre**, and is now considered in
disp'-nsable for its utility, and as a
graceful assistant to expressive action
in conversation In accord witli the
present passion for ali thing* Oriental,
some of the most elegant fan* are made
of the eves of the pMeoek feather* set in
medallions, nrr<>unding a center of
humming idrds' heads gleaming with
iridescent flame Otlier* are of the mm
fnraeous feather* <f parrots and Eatt
noian roTwu-cornu. An exqui*ite fan
' of en-am-eolored satin set on stieks of
' carved ivory, fine a* a cobweb. i dec
orated with brilliant flowers and leave*,
made of the hre*ast feathers of humming
hirds. so arranged as not to interfere
with the furling of the fan. Another of
alternate cream, white and browr.
1 ostrich feathers has a stuffed bin! et on
j above the handle, of tawny brown and
i opal tints. On gray satin a scene in
1 umber show* a group of cupid* swing
' ing from a bending branch, while a
graceful little maiden, who i* gleaning
after the harvest, is cautiously approach
ing in innocent wonder. Each of these
' harming fans is a study in itself, being
I the work of the finest French artist*.
• Some fans have painted in delicate relief
ion silvery, cream, peacli-blossoin or
■ water-green satin grounds, rare and
le-autilul flowers, a graceful paasion
| flower drifting across the surface, or the
honey suckle witli interlaced chains, and
Countless graceful line* and curves, (tn
1 some are seen solemn crane* and the
broad leaves and pink, white and yellow
lilies of Egypt. Simpler fans are made
of reft Persian sills, embodying all
(changing rainhow and peacock tints:
i other* are in Wattcau colors, radiant
i blue nnd delicate rose-color, surmounted
by the same colore in fluffy marabou
I leathers, and mounted in onolcsoent
carved sticks of pearl. Sometime* the
fan is of brocade silk, made to order of
i part of a favorite dress. The sticks are
. either lightolive ordclieiously-perfumod
violet wood, finely carved by hand.
Rome of the richest fans, intemtod only
for full dress and evening toilettes, arc
mounted in satin, and an- embroidered
in imitation of livznntine relief work
with the needle. Black kid and silk fans
arc decorated witli an initial, a crest or
monogram; these are generally set on
stieks of tortoise-shell.—.Veto York 7W
bt/nr.
TKf Itw Yrh Wanum ■ l.i<hK(r.
Krillm C. ask* " What it the name,
aim and object of that society in New
York tlint take* women'* wort for tale
on rom ml union? What kind of work
do they take, and where ean the man
ager* l.e found? P lease tell lu all you
know nliout the name." Alxmt a year or
eighteen month*ago. the " Women'* Kx
ehange" WM ofxaied in No. 4 Ka*t
Twentieth street, in tilts city. The
president of the society was. and we be
lieve still is. Mrs. Wm. (i.Clioale. The
vice-presidents are Mrs. Wm. K, IVdfe,
T' . ' ■ " l i*. Mr*. Henry Anderson
find Mrs. Jwb Wendell. There is also
an efficient Imard of responsible man
agers. 'I he " Women's Exchange "is
not an art society. nor is it in any way
connected with tie Decorative Art So
ciety ~f this city, will, which it is Home
times confounded |,y uninformed pcr
aons. It is intended a* a depot for th
iiidustriesofimpoverished gentlewomen.
'l'll'' sulwcription of nicrnhem U five dol
lars a year. During the first year of the
existence of this society its receipts have
heen over $15,000. (if this sum over
$lO,OOO has been paid to 'vorisignc-s.
The expenditures for rent and other
matters have heen about $3,500 and
there is a balance of more than SI,(XO
in tie- treasury. There wi-re 17,56(5 arti
cles registered for sale, and of that num
ber only thirty-seven hud been rejected.
A commission of ten percent, is charged
on all articles sold. All articles are sub
mitted to tie- approval of the managers,
and none are received save through a
manager or subscriber. Almost every
thing that is useful or Ix-autiful that can
devised by the quick ingenuity of a
woman's brain, and executed by her deft
fingers, except plain needlework. is re
ceived at the " Women's Exchange."
I lie rooms are overcrowed witii a vast
assortment of elegant and useful indus
tries. f here are decorated plaques and
vac s, and carved ebony and embroidered
screens, rugs, portieres, mantel covers,
(•hair eov ITS, and all sorts of furniture
decorations in raw silk, jute, cloth, and
lace and muslin, ornamented with hand
embroideries and applique. There are
painted tiles, and hanging ebony and
white wood cahincu with embroidered
curtains, and painted porcelain cups arid
saucers, and panels of wood, paper,
glass and gilt decorated witii designs of
birds, blossoms, butterflies , bees, ani
nials, faces and landscape*. Th'-re aro
pietun-s in oils, water colors, crayons
and pencil: ornamental table covers,
sofa cushions, chair and sofa tidies,
and toilet mat s and cushions; bric-a-brac
and curios; articles of rare value; heir
looms, such as crap" shawls, covegpd
with embroidery; altar cloths, covered
witii rii li ' mbroidery; old jew Iry, rare
laces, historic porcelain and delft pieces,
and all sorts of article* to which " Ji'-art
histori'-s " are attach'*! aro to be found
in the lr,< bed gbuss eases of til'' Ex
change. M >st of tlie tilings last men
tioned arc ;'*nt with a rcqu'-st to dis
pose of them as sen as possible. Th
amount of good that has been done an
which can he done by this society ca
hardly be measured. Address the presi
dent or managers of the Women's Ex
change, room 4. East Twentieth street.
Xi w York, for aeir< ular and further in
formation. There are similar exchanges
to this New York institution in Brook
lyn, Boston, Philadelphia and Wash
ington. Every large city in the I'nited
Stales ought to liave its Women's Ex
' iianee.—Sew York Sun.
A mm-.111 Tub Mads Ruf.
■■Tie "home and society" department
of Srnhntr contain* a paper on "domes
tie nursing'' by a trained nurse, from
which we quote this practical piece of
advice
Nothing is more easy to an experi
cmed nurf- or more difficult to an in
experienced one than to change the bed
linen with a person in bed. Every
thing that will be required must is at
hand, properly aired, before beginning
Mov the patient as far as possible to fine
side of the lied, and remove all but one
pillow. I'ntuek the lower sheet and
cross sheet and push them toward the
middle of the bed. Hare a sheet ready
folded or rolled the wrong way. and lay
it on the mattress, unfolding it enough
to tuck it in at tie side. Have the c ross
sic . t prepared a*> dm-rilied before, and
roll it also, laving it over the under one
and tucking it in. keeping the unused
portion of iioth still rolled Move the
patient over to the side thu prepard for
liitn, the soiled sheets can then be drawn
away, the clean ones completely unrolled
and tucked in on the other side. The
coverings n*d not lie removed while
this is being done; they can he pulled
out from the foot of the bedstead and
kept wrapped around the patient. To
change the upper sheet take off the
si.piwl and lay toe clean shoot over the
blankets, securing the upper edge to the
bed with a couple of pins; standing at
the foot, draw out the blankets and
tolled sheet, replace the former and put
on the spread. I-astly, change the pil
low cases.
TorfoU* Klitll,
Tliink of the following. indies, wh'n
vnu handle your tortoise wh*l) comb*
\V hat i* ralh*d the tortoise shell I* not, a*
I* generally supposed. the bony covering
or shield of the turtle, but only the scales
which I-OTT it. These are thirteen in
number; eight of them fin*, and five
littlecurved. Of the fiat one* four are
large, bring sometimes one foot long and
*cv<vi inolle* wide, semi transparent, ele
gantly variegated witli white, red. yel
low and dark brown clouds, which are
fully brought out when the shell is pre
pare! and polished. The lamina*, as we
have said, constitutes the external coat
ing of the solid or lamy part of tlie shell;
and s large turtle affords about eight
pounds of them, the plates varying from
an eighth to a quarter of an inch in
thickm-**. The fishers do not kill th
turtles; did they do so. they would in a
few year* exterminate them When s
turtle is caught they fasten him. and
cover his lark with dry leaves or grass,
to which they set fire. The heat causes
the plates to separate at their joints; a
large knife is then carcftilly inserted hori
xontally leneatli them and the lamina*
lifted from the back—care Wing taken
not to injure the shell by too much heat,
nor to force it off until heat has fully
prepared it for separation. Many turtles
die under this cruel operation; hut in
stnnecs are numerous in which they
have in-en caught a second time, with
the outer coating reproduced. Hut, in
these cases, instead of thirteen pieces it
is a single piece.
Valuable "table far Fishermen.
This valuable table, showing what
chance a profess,onman has or catch
ing anything when he goes fishing, has
been prepared by the Ifetrnit /VCJU ■
I lectors. .T77... 7 is 40
lawpo 3 in AO
Kditors 10 in SO
Artists 3 in SO
Vrrhitceta ... 13 In SO
bookkeeper* N in SO
M err Hants IS in 40
I'rotnssms tinSO
Sinsll her, with old now hat sad
broken suspender 49 is SO
Prof NordrnsVjold wrote in January:
" I I tope to la* fjYw* from Uie ioe in June "
Just tliink of that blissftil climate, where
a man hop to be out of kw in June!—
tirw For* Mul. Can't aoa anything
blissful | n such a climate. We should
not fr-fll very happy If we were to gel out
of ir pi n June We have it all rammer.
~ 'SorriMown HtraM.