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.