Unknown is Best. it<n dead, tying under the grassee, Unseen linger near the the berolt, (luring knuwlmtgo nnd sense of whet passes In the hearts and thn homos they have lelt, What teardrops, than son waters Salter, Most tall as they watch the strilo— When they see how we fail, how we (alter, flow we miss in tho duties ol lite. It the great, who go out with their faces Hodewet tiy n weeping world's tears, (Stand near and can see how their places Are Ailed, while the multitude cheers; It the parent, whose tsick is bent double With delivering lor riches and gold, fgnids an ear to the wrangle and trouble About him before lie is cold; If the wile, who lelt weeping and sorrow Behind her, liemls down Irom above, And Iwholds the tears dried on the morrow, And the eyes newly burning with love; (i the gracious ami royal honied mother, Krom tlie silence and hush ol her toinb. Can hear the harsh voice of another Stow -blighting the trait of her wotnb; tl the old hear their early-lsigotten Kojoicing tluit burdens are gone; (I the young know how s<sin they're forgo ten. While the mirth and the revol go on What sighing ol sorrow ami anguish Must sound thrWbgh the chambers ol space? What desolate spirit must lnng-iish In that mystic and umlcscrilied place" Then tile was u I'nroe with its burden, And dentil but a terrible jest, But they cannot. The grave gives its guerdon tW silence and benutilul rest. Ella ll'hrrlrr. Little Miss Turpin's Fate. I A little conversation took phu-e one morning, on tlie top floor of a dingy old lodging house in the metropolis, that led to strange results. It was in the front room, but made its way very readily through the chinks and crannies in tin mortar to the neighboring apartment, whore little Miss Turpin was preparing her frugal breakfast. Tlie toasting fork nearly mil from her hand, and her dimity apron narrowly escaped being seduced by the sumptuous flame from the grate, when the harsh, gruff voice of her land lord fell upon her ear. "I want my money,''said Mr. Sbad raeb. "So do I," replied tlie young doctor, "and more. I He that wants money, jacans ami content, is without three good friends.'" ' <!an I have my money to-night?" " I think not." "To-morrow?" " it is extremely doubtful." "Then you muT get out of here. I want uiy room." " When do you want it?" "As soon as possible." " Will to-morrow do?" " Yej." "Then have me, friend; the room shall be yours to-morrow morning." The young medical student was a man of spirit, and would have vacated these not very alluring premises at once, but he had not where to lay bis bead, and there seemrd a vital necessity just then for some such proceeding on bis part. Ho had discovered two days before that Uie faltering and shabby source of his pecuniary supplies bad utterly failed, and the know,edge that he was without money or friends in a strange city to gether witli an inability to beg. borrow or steal, luul robbed him of sleep. The only patient lie had during his nine month) stay with Mr. Shaifraeli win a poor litt'.e workwoman in tlie neighboring rootn. a washed-out, timid, wretched little creature, with scarcely enough stamina about Iter to rally after a slight attack of pneumonia. Her little fee had been ready for him after every visit—in fact, obtrusively ready, for it was out of the question, of course, to take money " It was merely a neighborly service," lie said, when upon his fifth visit, he found her up and at work again, and on his departure ahc bad stammer- <1 out something about bis bill. "I am only ton glad. Miss—Mi-- " Turptn." she whispered . " To be of service to you. and beg you will call me in whenever my presence is desirable." Miss Turpin faltered out her tliauks A burning flush chased th<- pallor out of her face, as he warmly pressed her trembling hand in his and bade tier good-bye. " Poor little girl!" he said, as lie strode away to the bcture room. "It's bait enough for a great strong ox like myself to face and battle with this grim old grindstone of a world, but for a miser able little waif like that—phew, its monstrous." He though* of her pityingly till he crossed the threshold o fth e college, then gave himself up to the subject in hand, which so engrossed bis mind that he forthwith forgot tlie existence of little Miss Turpin. But sho, upon her part, repeater! over and over tlie worn* of youug l)r Blake, blushing again when she became conscious of the fact that she really hurt tlie temerity to tl well upon his genial but commonplace courtesy. Miss Turpin's work was delien'e and artistic, but not soul-absorbing, like tin doctor's. She could tint tier photo ipapii* all the better for litis little op). wdc in her iife. The vines and tendrils tnok lender shapes under her deft little feogcrs; a shy. sweet melancholy helped to make the shadows at least more and more perfect; under the rtmidiuds grew the thorns; but there seemed to lurk crew in their cruelty a subtle, mysteri ous rharm It was enough for Miss Torpin to dream. Rot more and more imposing, grander and grander grew this one figure of her taacy around which revolved the satel litn of health and wealth, popularity and Came— nil that could render lite aweet and desirahie. Perhaps it is detrimental to my heroine In aay that she would have been quite A intent to have lived upon the fruits ot Iwv own fancy for the remainder of her ■atwral life. Had circumstances com pHied lier lorhiftige her abode, and had dbe thus lost sight of Dr. Blake, the drrwm* would have tone along just the aaaaa. the fact of his dying in n neigh boring hospital of weakness and want, ■nd the quenching of all her material i-t a pauper 's grave not interfering in til-* least with Miss Turpin's niry fabrir. It vwM hare been impossible to convince bUtaTnrpin tftat he could reach so dire an ntrmiity. had not tlie knowledge keen forced in upon her in away that dbr rwuld not refuse. Stw alwoiuteiy heard thegiuff voieeof ; Mr Wiartrsrh upon the morning in ques tsnw. and the low. musical, but bitterly touching words of the d<>ctor in reply. J Sho sat down upon tho run" and clasped both HER hands. HP WHS going away, then! Until tlmt moment she Tina not realized the extent of such a disaster. She could have borne, perhaps, to have been compelled to go away herself, 1- cnusc the Inevitable for her had become long since a matter of course ; but to have the iron hand of inexorable neces- J sity grasp this magnificent young man ! was terrible. lie had tho flashing eyes, j tlie lordly mien, the exultant step—for | thus had little Miss Turpin been wont to t classify the somewhat alluring personal attractions of young Blake—lie to be come tin* prey of an adverse destiny ! MissTurpfn's breakfast that morning-] was a failure. By dint of long practice ami an exceedingly gracious gift of housewifery she had always managed to j get up extraordinary little meals for | herself. It was as if a little sooty angel siit up aloft in the chimney and assisted tho culinary eflorts of tlie lone little 'ronufti. Her toast was of brown the most golden, her coffee was of Mocha the most delicious, her bit of steak so juicy and appetizing, that sometimes poor Blake, HI tlie neighboring room, with some chunks of brown bread float ing help'' -dy in a chalky fluid before liini. lini.n g ibis savory iMtor under bis nosti i - raised his clenched hands at the stern wall between them in envy and despair. But even the little angel in tile chim ney lieeame impatient with the behavior ofaittle Miss Turpin that morning. The little woman, usually so prncticaliLeand capable, while straining Iter ear to listen to faltering, stumbling steps in the next ! room, dolilierately burned the toast and lioiled the eolfee, and the sooty wings spread themselvt s, taking flight in dis appointment and disgust. She held her breath as tho familiar footstep passed her door, and slowly one by one went down the wormeaten sioirs. Ob. where was h" going? What would lie do? She had read sometimes of an evening, when working hours were over, the shaded lamp upon tlie table at her side, theVoals leaping and blazing in the refulgent grate, hcrflittln slip|Kred feet upon the fender—she bad read of js ople who, having neither money, means nor content, had drifted into a moment of frenzy and despair, and thus leaped the awful bar that separated the known from the unknown, content to risk any fate but that which a waited them here. She luul read thus of poor, strange un fortunates. and IHT lc • ' had ached in their behiuf. But nowf Well, now her heart had almost ceased to heat. She put away her work—of what avail was it, ail blotted and blurred by her tears or ruined by her shaking brush? Ail day she feared and trembled ; !4 i niglitfail some intuitive hope caused her to brighten the fire, rook a dainty tic al, and. placing the table opposite the door, leave the rosy room open on the wind swept, gloomy corridor. Then she waited find waited. The clock 'truck at midnight; then on-, two, three from a in iglihoring belfry. The meal was cold, the tire iiu.nnl low; tic chill, gray morning had almost dawned, when at last it came; —thank Hod! faltering and slow; but it was bis foot step; none other could quicken little Mi-- Turpin's pulse. He reached the landing, the door of i her room. Why, truly, lie did pause— yes. and stagger in. Any other woman hut this, |*rhap. would have recoiled with disgust and horror, and, above all. with fear, for the young man was evidently not himself. •' llis hair damp and disheveled, hung in heavy disorder about his face and neck ; hi* eyes glassy and iurid. blazed upon hers; a red flame burned in his checks; a slight foam flecked bis trembling lips. He fell into the chair at the table, and looked wonderfully upon the food before hitn; but that which would have been frantically devoured six hours before was. like the ashes of bitterness to him now. He bad not tasted food forthirty : six hours. But it was not hunger that tortured him; it was thirst -an appall ing thirst. He drank the pitrherof water from Miss Turptn's hand and looked plead , ingiy for more. " Do not be afraid to give the patient water." he murmured, eagerly. "In j m.s-s of febrile debility they sometimes suffer—suffer. I recommend, by ail means, water —water—water.' Then he fell back with a groan of agony. Miss Turpin ran out of the room and down stairs, pctinch d on the door of the Herman tailor Irelow, who, witli Ills wife and five children, was epjoyingin sleep tlie only immunity granti-d them from endless lalmr and toil, bade him fly for the best doctor in the neighbor j hood ; ran up t lie stairs again like a deer, and found Dr. Blake insensible, his head thrown back upon the chair, iii eyes half closed, fits stentorious breath ings audible in the corridor lie low. The little Herman returned with the boat medical aid in tile vicinity, even that of the eminent I>r. Haiersbaw him ' self. A li t llis fuss and confusion bad aroused Mr. Shadrai h. who followed them up the stairs and protrur'ed his long, hairy chin in the doorway. "It is, perhaps, "best that you should know, madam,' said the surgeon to lit tle Miss Turoin, "that it is a doubtful j ease. Your fiuslvind is in a very criti cal condition. If tills worthy man will I assist lite we will get him to bed. Our only hope will be a powerful sedative, ( to lis- given at once." The worthy man alluded to was Mr. Sbadnv/b. whose eyes almost left their socket* when be found the doctor rre- I paring to put bis young lodger in Miss I Turpin's bed. " Why—why," he gasped, looking at Miss Turpin. "this won't do, will it?" ( Miss Turpin 1 lowed her head. She could not speak, but it seemed to her j j that her heart made all the noise that , was neces ary. Its convulsive throbs | , moved the shawl she had thrown over ; j tier shoulders. " Don't chatter here," said the doctor, j thinking Mr. Shadrach was addressing ! i hint. "Just do what I bid you, and tlie 1 ; more quietly tlie belter." Half an hour later Miss Turpin was; j alone again, save for tlie body of the j 1 doctor that lay upon the bed. lie was ' helpless tln-re. perhaps dyinjt; his face I I was strange and distorted, ins eyes half ' | closed. A confused, unintelligent mur- j ' mur flowed frotn Ills lips, liis hand clinched and unelini-lied; at times a j ; groan seemed wrung from Ills vitals. Miss Turpin's features were pale and haggard, tier eyes strciiming i with tears. \ Yet. in the miliar of an anguish that par- ! took of dispnir. witli throes of |Miin and i terror un*|>caknblc. there was born to her a solemn and almost sinister joy, the first ever given to that st< rile soul. Winn the doctor came in tlie evening , lie thought lie had never seen so p'v'iont ' and nob e a face; there was something in it that went to his heart. '* Be comforted, ** fie said, " let us re 'or I upon the youth amkstrong physique of your husband." Tho incoherent muttering of his pa tient attracted the doetor's attention. Sharp ami strong sentences fell upon his ear, Hint excitMl Ids professional curi osity. When he heard from Miss Tur pin of the enthusiasm anil zeal of tin 'young student, us much as she dared u*ll him of his defeated aspirations and hopes, the good doctor's eyes kindled witli sympathy. "Let him only get well," he said, " and we will sweep these lions out of hi* path Slixs Turpin smiled through her tears. "He will get well, llianks to you," she said. "Arul to you." lie added, looking around the room witli approbation. It had I wen suddenly metamorphosed into tiie model of n chamber for the sick. The open lire, with its cheei ful lila/.e and ventilating draft; tin- subdued light; the whit*- ami warm drapery of the bed ; Iter own little couch tn-ar by; pretty, sluidowy pictures upon the. walls tinted by her own hands—an eloquent silence reigning over all. " It is lucky for yonder lad," thought the doctor, "that in all this big wretched barrack the one little snuggery i> hi* own." And so the day* went by, each one freighted with hope and fi-ar. Tin-re came one at last upon which rested tin life or death ol the young studi-m "Some time this evening," said tin j doctor to Mi--s Turpin, " In- will regain ! i-onsciousness; In- sure that you do not i leave his bedside. 1 would not for tin world at that critical moment, tlust a strange faro should meet hi* own." Miss Turpin turned pale, and stretch' *1 out h'-r hands with a gesture of entreaty. Tie n she slipped from her chair to her knees, and front thence t<> tin- floor. Now li.-i ' com.- the sunn-me moment of torturi Nw Iter lafstr, her joy, her life was done. A strange hu el What hue could lie stranger than ln-rown? "'I ut, child!" said the doctor; " I thought voti had more couragi. Then is every hone for liiiu. Can't you hear joy as you have sorrowl only want that lie shall first sis- the fore of his wife, the dearest to him in tin world." 11 t-tit down his bond* to inr. hut Sliil sin- iiid her fa- ■- from his. Her wliole frame trembled. She wished tli.-it sin- could die there and then " Oh, doctor," said lie, lifting at last Iter eyes t* ids, "how can I ti-11 you ' how can I make you know? I nm not his wife!" I The doctor draw buck coldly; but a her frank, earnest eves caught hi* own. In-could not resist tin innis - nt ph-nding I there. h- might be a i*K>r Magdalen evi-n, iut lie had never seen so childlike aijil yet womanly a creature. " \V-- mu-t ttiink of notliing now but our patient," lie said, gently'; "your fuc< , is at h :.*t familiar ami dear to him." "Alas! no." she said : "it i strong-. almost unknown. It is far better I should go away " Then sin- told the doctor ail. And n* sin- went on to confr *s how *li-- liail dar* *1 ilieltr r tliis p*x.r ni-ighior ol hers, without a roof to cover him. without money, without friends, sick unto death, helpless and alone—how *lie dari-d at any ri*k t- shelter him and to nurxchim twii-k to life—tin- good surgeon's eyes hlink'd under his shaggy brow*, lie nut hi* heavy hand* in hem-diction ti|H-n • her Ihiwi d head. "Thou giwsl little Samaritan!" he said. And two big. lioiiiiw. handsome eye* U|m-ii tbfl white lx-d in the corner MBO ti-leii with tears He was so weak. tlii pisir young Blake, that lie could scarcely help sobbing outright at *o touching a story. " Why —why." he tait- r-db- himself, "in littie Miss Turpin's room! Oh, tlmti merciful licnvrn! in little Mis Turpin'* bed! Willi tie- • lis-ry little tire in the grate to toil yonder biting h;ast, with all t!• little knick-knack* and furbelow* about—the little pictures on the wall, her bird-cage at the win dow. and a neat nwdii ine stand, with lots of spoon* in various doe*. each spoon with little Mi*s Turpin's name; and to le-r. then, under heaven. I owe my life! Ah. mnytiod do so to me. and more also, if I desert little Mi** Turpin. or let little Mi** Turpin desert me!" " And now." said thesweet, *ad voire of Mis Turpin. "take me to hi* bed side. I tun foolishly weals. I can scarcely see. I/-i me look tiix-n him just once more Irefore I go. ou will lake rare of him now. doctor, won't you? But I let me say good-bye." Tiie doctor, undecidedly, scarcely knowing what to say, half carried her to the Ishl. "(lood-hye. goodbye," she said, ! liending over him, her warm tears fall ing on Ids pair, sunken face, her hot, trembling hand*, clasping themselves j together. But suddenly two otle-r hot, trembling - hands seized hers in a feeble grnp—if,,, hollow, sunken eyi sol the student iasten themselves upon Miss Turpin's face with a very hungry tenderness. "Oh. no,' lie said, " ynu cannot go - from here, not for the world; you see the gooddoetor has said it will not do j to have a strange face at my bedside. I Your* i the deafest to me in the world, , I love you. Mis* Turpin. It i* per haps a sad fate I offer you ; but oh! he | still more* generous—he my wife. I have, deaf itlle Miss Turpin—oh! I j have loved you long!" He didn't say how long he was ton i weak to talk. He didn't tell her that perhaps his love dated only a littie half ' hour hack, when lie listened to that won- I drounly touching little story of hers. What mattered it? Cannot love be | as strong as life and deep as the sea," | howsoever and whenever it is bom? ■ Hood Br. Haversiiaw took rare of their j future. It bryan In a neat, two-story | brick hou-e, witli a big bras* sign upon | the door, to which the worthy surgeon dn-w attention enough to set tin- pot to j boiling. And now in h* r stylish brougham, with a liveried lackey at her eommand, I wit If her rustling siiks and dainty laces, i witli Iter wildest fancies more than reali/.ed. who cnuid find fault witli the fate of little Miix Turpin? Kntomoiogically speaking, the butter j fly get* up front its grub and float* j through tiie air with the greatest of ease, Physiologically speaking, the boy makes j the butter fly by putting it down with j hi* grub, witli the greatest of grease. ; Scientifically considered, both are oil . niittt)!ogical. Please pass the butler, my well-bred friend. S The Fl-wdrnu Indian*, who now ' numb'! three hundred and fifty souls, and live in rerpectahle houses hi Moody i "ounty, Pxkota. have raised lO.ooft j bu*h"l* of wh'-at this year. FOR THK FAIR HEX. Wow York fashion Nolo, Kedingotcs nre'revived. Very small hustles are worn. Tiger-skin muffs are a recent novelty. Pocket-shaped muffs are again in vogue. Black wraps ar*- r!<• riguer for street costumes. The new greenish-blue is known as •fuponnig. Black *-ut jet bends now trim all drossy black suits. 0 Walking drcnscs an- short *-nougli to siiow till' hliocs, Kiclius will he more wont thi* winter tlian ever before. Fichus will he more fashionable than ever this winter. Fancy feathers ar* tin- lending feature in bonnet trimmings. The new lace finises are made very high, and frequently wired. The hair is generally worn low, whether it is becoming or not. Bits of tinsel, jet and many jet beads arc added to leather ornaments. Hold threads shot into brocaded stuffs grow more nnd more fashionable. Some very handsome plain ••loth suits have fur bands as their only trimming. Both black and white Breton and point d'esprit la*'-* are ti-ed for trimming j mulls. New muffs to match costumes an- in r* ti< uic shape, triiniii' il with la* *■ or fringe. Normandy point i- tin- most suitable ! lac*- for muff trimming, on account <>l its,durability. j Silk with j'-t In-ul< inter woven in tie I tahri* eonu-s for combining with black ' satin and v -lv* t. j tnly very young )a*li<-.s wear siiort dresses lor evening parties or on cere- J monious occasion*. I i'ale drab corduroy :in*l wine orpluut ■ ■olori-d enmei's hair makes a warm and 1 dressy street costume. Costumes of seal-brown ladies'cloth or cam*-!'* hair an*! corduroy velvet will ; Is- much worn in mid-iuinter. The rieh'-st toil* tsar* of hack -ntin | and silk profu-i-ly decorat* *1 with jet I embroideries, fringes and pa*.n*m*-nter j ies. (juiitcd satin p* 11i< oat.-, in colors to ' inat' i* coslunies, liid fair to displace felt I and i-iotli ha,moral* for mid-winter j wear. Noraumy >-*>iiit is a n< w black silk | la* *• **f great IH-auty ami durability, and *-s|M i-inll- suitable for trimming hla* k velvet. •-i.k plush of to* am* sli.-ui* • lie ' <lr* s niak* - a hand-one trimming wlivn | aj-pii**i in |< in*'ls and as r* \ er. collar* and * tiff*. A in w stv.c of <ir< - |>o k-t i* *nt in *sqUar*--i-*inn t'<l shape and ult'clc d t'* , the e*lge o| lie- ha- inc. wle-r*- it hariu'* like a hag. Mtifl* ar* tnn'le of the materials of tho , *lr-s*tliis winter. lin*-d wiili fur. po< k*-t sliaix il. :m<! ornain* nt<-d at tie op* lungs with frills ol Breton Lara*. I'iain soft Indian muslin mob caps. ' wit It shirr-al ruffles of tie same, and narrow pink, blue, and w hiie ribbons j run in the shirring*, ar*- very fashion able. S arfs ol white, tdue. r****-. an*l r**l l i le-nii - ar*p*-ar among import* *1 novel i tic* for throwing ov*-r the le-ai and shoulder* when going to evening enter txinments. Tie- new*-*' tlir*e.corner*d ne* k*-r --* liiefs of brocaded blue, rose, an*l m ain i silks, have ti*e corn* r# roun*led. nn*i are horil'Ted with double plaiting* of |s*ini ! •!' sprit or Bre'.on !ar\ Hress si-am* ar*- now frequently I eurv* d t* the arm-hole, aft*-r the fashion of a f"w years 1,a,-k. It i < laine*l that the long seam, reaching to the liouUlt. makes tie- waist ajifs-ar large. An* w i*l* a in kid glove* is the Foster f glove, fi-.ting the hand as a sins- diss ! the foot, la'-ed with a cord ts-tw**-n a double row of liuttnn*. thus enabling a lady to wear the smallest possible sine. A new fabric for combining with black 1 satin in costumes is silk in which jet j heads are woven in strii*-*. ftgur**. palms, diamond*, and leaf design*, or witli head* covering tlie entire surface. Biik-faee*l cloaking*, witli fur harks, ; have the upm-r side of ailk in arniure or j matelas.o designs, or else soft r*-|*pei ! silk *>r Sieilienne. wliile tiie reverse is*./ 1 soft, thick fleece, almost as warm as fur. I-are ruffs for the neck arc again in vogue; they are worn very high, are made of several plaiting* of the lace, and an- tied with narrow *.atin ribUm*. knotted <*D tlie left side of the neck or directly in front. Cloth suit*, made very plain, of dark shade* of grcm. blue, garnet, ami plum, have ihany r>w* ol machine stitching in contrasting color of silk n* a finish to the overskirt, petticoat, and other part* ol the co*tume. Frosted flowers are coming luto fash ion for evening drcsw-s. An <nsy way of frosting those which have l*st fheii . freshness is to touch them lightly with while of egg and then m atter fro-ting powder, which i* merely powdered glass, over them. The newest cloaking material 1* draneesilk; the under side i of silk, such ns Sicilliennc, with thick rep. armure, ami pique or mat<-la**ce, all i silk, while the wrong side is of soil and thick flc-ce, forming a lining almost as warm as fur. The eonrcnimec of the chatelaine braid keep* It lasliionahie. The man ner of wearing it nt present i* in two plaits or braid* turned un, club like, on each side of the hack of tiie head, witli a erimped crown braid or some puff* of hair wet up on the top. New designs for enni hi nation cos tumes' of silk ami velvet or silk, or satin and wool, have the plain or kilt front breadth ornamented with two or three senrf* of Soft silk fastened at the side* nnd tied across in the middle in a single knot witli ft-inged out end*. A popular style of dressing the hair frir.xes or frlngi-s the fon-top or hang, and, waving tiie crown hair, shade* the temples witli It, then gathering all the hair together and mi-ling a switch, i necessary, disposes it to one heavy drooping loop, and two upright loop* pulled wide on the hark of the head. A comfortable manner of making a rircatdng gown for everv-day wear is double-hreostod. with a double row of button* down tho fVont, or one hmad trimming—an exact far simile of the newest shaped ulsters, cut to the figure, hut a little wider in the skirt. The model from Parts was made in dnrk blue cloth flannel, nnd had an applique trimming of dark blur velvet tambour Htltrlied In white. A fashion which promises to be popu lar in tl*i' of wearing jacket* of a mater ial and color different from the dr'-**. These jacket* are made in the casaquin fashion, tight-fitting and with ileep hitx-iurs and square poek'-ts. | n thin cloth or cassimcre, of Home very dark color, tlicy arc very becoming, showing off the figure to (treat advantage; hut thotie of embroidered eanlimcre, bro caded Mi Ik or fancy velvet are more : dressy and effective. Word coincM front I'nriHthat the pol- I otiaise, which Inn* been diKeardad for a tiin*', is attain taken into favor under a 1 new name—"habit redingote." An example mentioned wax of dark em bossed Idu*' velvet, worn over a hat in petticoat to match, trimmed in front with two deep plaiting*, large pocket at the sid'-u, edged with silk and ehenille fringe; tie- polonaise almoht ax long as the hkirt at the hark and drape*! very gracefully; in front it !h only closed p. j the knee-, where it opens with a large satin and velvet bow. Another polon aise was of striped purple velvet, and it opened over a satin skirt embroidered in chevron* of gold, onuicc and copper colored siiks; a large collar and deep cuffs of satin similarly worked. < lllllr*n'a llrnltli 111 lulrr. Too mudi attention cannot In- paid to the feet. Kvery > liilil should )><■ pro vided with rubber overshoes and wear them win-never the pavements wen damp, taking care that they are instantly removed on coming in-door*. Iligii rubier Itont*, lined ilk*-the well-known Arctic overslm*ar<- a comfort and con** ni**nce for bos-and school-girls in snowy wcatlicr. Tic- boy who can re sist the temptation to plunge into a snow drift and who can walk quietly along through a clear path, with a wall of snow **ii either side, is an anomaly in lioydom. These boots enable bill* to dar*-til** deep* st drift- with compara tive impunity. Kvery child should have at least two pairs of sicca*, and sin* kings and slews should be * hsuigud and til* feet rubbed dry whenever then is the least suspicion of dampness. Nothing la\- the foundation of -o many j cold- a- damp t* • t ; while a wetting i ran ly injurious if tie- clothing is at on*-*- ' changed. Jt is not the getting w**t so * iiiu- I* a- the remaining o. which docs i tii*- nii hi* f t'bieinn ar- fr* jU'-nlly martvrs to ear-ache. 'I !■ Ix-si preventive fortius i to k '•*•(> tli< <*>l*l air out of the car*. To this i rut the worsted li-mkl- which ' come for girls are. X< client: While boy* may wear a woolen scarf around the head aii<i < ,rs. Motto r* who prefer , bats to in -is may easily add ribbon ' strings wide enough to cover the cars. an*! these will not -s<k badly on * v*-n a . handsome bat. It is to tie- fu.i as important that • liildr* n hoti *1 I - warm y - .el at night as during tic dav. N r is it stifli i*-nt •bat tic teal - - tiling should l< warm. Kvery on* w in* b is bad the car*- of < liil dr* i knows wli it n -tic.-. l. op. r th'-y ! an . and Iww tlc y ki< k <iff even tic nn-t carefully tuck-d in coverings. H- ,i* at* - hildroi shoti *',-.•< p in tlrmn- , ; whiii for mor- robust constitutions * anion flannel is sufficiently Ic-avy. Night-draw, is an to l„ nief*-rr d to ' night-gowns for all hut Labi'-*, and tic- I'-gs of the drawer* should be long ' hough to n:o h t<> the fist. Indeed, that style which COV*T- the feet. also, ■ .ike a Stocking IS an excellent on*-. Night-gowns for haliies should h< lung enough t*i Kim*- more tlcui down over the fi-et. and flannel wrapper* should be provided for v*-ry cold wcatlc-r. In ••viTy household where there is a baby there should lie at least one open fire at which it* bet may t toasted upon or | * asion. No one ~m sleep tea It lull when cold. ani tic- haliy will rc-t min li Is'tt'r if laid to sleep wje-n a warm blanket titan between cold sleets. Otrnvnrktnl M lunrtt, Nothing is more reprehensible an*! : thoroughly n**re wrong th-ui the idea that a woman lu'.lins her duty by doing i an amount of work that i far Ircyond Icr strength. She not only does not | tulfill lcr duty, hut she most signally j fails in it, and the failure is truly de plorable. There can lie no sadder sight than that of a biokcn-down,overworked wif* and mnthct a woman who i* tired all her lift- through. If the work of the houselKild cannot tc- si-romplithed by I order,system, an*l moderate work, with out the necessity ~f wearing, hcart ■ breaking toil—toil tfiat i- neveren*led , without making life a treadmill of la)M>r. j then, for the *ake of humanity, let the ! work go. I tetter to live in the midst of disorder than that order should he purchased at | so high a nrire—the cost of health. strength and happiness, and nil that j make* existence endurable. Tie woman j who spends her life in unnecessary .almr | is by tliis very labor unfitted for the j Ingles! duties of home. She should he 1 he haven of rest to which both hu | band ami children turn for peace and i rcfrx shmcnt. She should IK- the careful, intelligent adviser and guide of the one. the tender n-nfiiiant and helpmate of the other. How is it possible for a i woman exhausted in body, as a natura consequence in mind also, to perform thcr offices? No. it is not possible. The constant strain is too gr--at. Nature gives way beneath it. She loses health and spirit and hopefulness, *od more all. her youth—tiie last tl.ing that lonian should allow to slip from her, for no matter how old she is in years she should be young in heart anil feel ing, for the youth of age is sometimes more attractive than youth itself To the overworked woman this green old age is nut of the question; old age conies on her. sere and yellow, before its time. Her disposition is ruined, her temper sound, her very nature is rlianged. hv I he hunien which, toohcavy to carry, is dragged along as long as Wearied feet and tired hand, can do their part. Kvcn her affections are blunted, and she he, ome* merely a machine-a woman without the time'to lie womanly, a mother without the time to train and guide her children as only a mother can. a wife without the time to sympathise with and rheer her husband, a woman so overworked during the day that when night eomce her anle thought ard intense longing is for the mat and sleep that very probably will not come; and, even it it should, that she is too tired to etyoy. Belter by far let everything go'un finished. to live as best as she can. than to entail on herseif and family the curse of overwork.— Urmtiary Magaxin*. " Men of\cn jump at conclusions." says the proverb.. So do dors. We saw a dog jump at the conclusion of a cat, which was sticking through the opin ing of a partly-cloned door, and it created more disturhaaoe than a church scandal ~ linMnn fbsf. Cremation In Alaska. Col., synodica! missionary of Colorado, New Mexico, I'tali and Montana. re vntly in*fle a visit to Alaska, and while there (taw many interesting things. "<• gives an account of a v'mii made to a garden owned l,y a Mr. Davidson. of \ Fort Wrangle. At the upper end of Mr. Davidson'* garden he saw a white sheet tretried between two poles, and linking as il it might be intended for a scare-crow. I 'pon inquiry he found that it contained the ashes of a boy t hat was drowned the wees licforr. His fii 'nds bail prorriisi'd Rev. Mr. Young that it should have a Christian burial; but during Saturday night tin y took the tsuiy up the beach, and early Sablath morning burned il. 4 the charred wood stiil remaining. Several large dry flicks were laid side by side upon the beach. L'pon tlje-e were placed the body of the boy. Other sticks were piled over the body, and the whole set on lire amid the wai'is and superstitious incantations ol hired mourners. In about an lmur the l*>dy was con sumed. After the tire had cooled down, the ashes were careliilljf gitbmd up, and placed in a basket until a suitab." l*>x could be carved for their perma nent preservation. When all was ready, an old Indian woman, bowed down with age and Infirmities, took up the i ba-ik' t and started f r a pine tree which had previously Ix-en selected for the purpose. She was followed by the mourners arm Iricnda with lowed heads and loud wail* of sorrow. At the base ol the tree t<vo poles, about eight feel high, were driven into the ground two feet ajart. Tim basket containing the ashes was tied betwe* n ool<*s, and u miifoin bag, like a large pi.low-slip, pu led down omt the and basket an ! closed at the bottom. On the out side of the sheet is sometimes rudely painted a face, through which the spirit of tlm departed is upj.osed to bmk out Upon tli' lmy. Morning and cv-ning the parent- ol the boy come out Irom their but. and turning tie ir faces to tlm north utter loud cries ol distress. And this will tm kept up for months, lor they have never Imard of tlx great Comfort'r. who alone can comfort ramming hearts. Those whow bodies an honied are suppoMt to IK- warm ir: t!m re xt world, and tlm other - cold I hex 1" iv in tlm trans migration of soul* from one Issly to another, but no! to animals. And the wi-h is "(ten expressed that in the next change they may be Ix.rn into this or that powerful family The funeral o'Ti monies of i hiefs ofti t, jasi four days. If slaves are then serili<i-d it relievi-* tlxir owners from work in the next world. Dmd slaves ar< often east into the sea. At the funeral of chiefs, tlm tradition* and history of the tribe are rehearsed. If these e. p monies an not conducted pr<>i riv tin water of death Wh, oW- UJi tin- departed sou], or it i lost in the forests. jf conducted pro|eriy. the chief <,f tlm gods speaks the Word, and tlm water of death is -mall, and tlm soul i carried to a place of rait, , r tbrgx tfuir.iThea after a long tins' it > mm s 1 r' k to some e xcend aat on its ister's sj,te and iixes another .ife To -il ii nc ratitk r - Umsm m •••. .<■ ar lmnnd, tK*ly and soul, and to r< m ue them from this, ameliorating and • .< • vating tlx ir condition in this lilc. and presenting to them * g'nrious irnmor t ilily through tie < rucitied and rim-n Savior, i* tlx work of tlm i>oard of home mis* ion*. Hw an Item wa Lost. He commenced. a he scat id hiiiits ,f ntle *arn inr.i " IV hen I wa* at tlm Centennial—" " < ifeat Scott !*' thought the city id it or " lie's turned xip again, alter so many years of b!essei peace and simnr e," and lie cut the stranger's sentence short iiy hurdng the dictionary at him. 1 !m stranger dodgid anil • aiue up with a melancholy smile, repeating " wml van) 'li' Centennial—" Tlm patepot follow d tlx dictionary, l>Ut the stranger didn't ms-m to mind it any mom than if it wa a fly. lie fa*t "ncd bis ey< on the city I alitor and re peat i d : " When I wa* at the Centennial—" " Man." said thceitv editor, "I will bin a hall for you. I-ife is too short and husine** too pressing to.lUten to any old Centinnla) yam* now." "Wlx-n I was at tlm Centennial—" "T>ry tip!" y led :fm city editor. "(jo on and die'" bowled tli tern graph iditor. " (live it to us in sections!" put in tlm coinnmri ial editor. "Cab a policeman!" growled the man aging editor. The man arose, buttoned his coat tip his chin, pulled his hat down over his eyi-s, Uirust lii* hand* into his pocket*, and strode out of tlx room. lie paused on the threshold and r> marked, as fast as lie could la'k " Wlmniwasattliecntennia oltlm lis'- ( tie of Yorktown I met a man from IN moine* whowa* killed accidental.v an.. I wnsgoing toteilyouahoutit. but you areso blamed smart and i nssed previous I pttM I won't." And thus was a gii>d item lost on a very dull day.— IhtMvinr* //.jisfr. An Orphan'* Work. The other nooning an orphan was j abroad i n Cass avenue. The *tin had scarcely risen when lie mild a b irrc! of water-lime not yet unb.-mlcd from in front of a new hui'ding down the street : to a large pile of leave*, and in ten min ute* tlm barrel was deftly and neatly bidden from sight. A Pawnee Indian ; out on tlx* war path might have sns. peeted " old 'hat bidden there, but no white man ever <xu!d. When bis work was done the poor orphan waiki-d away 1 about half a block and sat down in front of a house. Tiie frosty air bad just to --gun to make his troth eiick together when a miik-man drove up and **ng bis lell. Alter be bail delivered bis milk lie noliirxl the loy and asked " Rub. why are you sitting Imro in tlx* , cok" " I'm waiting to si e tlx* rats conic out from under that big pile of leaves there," j replied the boy. "Rats under the leaves* Well, I'll fetch 'cm mi"hty quick!" lie seised the reins, gave the liorse a aiiarp cut and headed him for the rats' nest. The wagon struck the heap, rose Up. and next instant lay broadside on the pavenx*nt, while the milk jumped iu all direction*. Tlx* driver scrambled up. caught and quieted the horse mix! I then hsxked around for the orphan. No one was in sight Iflie could have seen around a corner and down alley he would have WlieM a hoy crawling through a hole in the fence. hut lie couldn't have caught him- not by a jug fttll — Ditr itf Wrr* /Vvss.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers