IIS THE FAIR BX. ruklOß IVolra. cloaks are very long, evail in all autumn goods, g cloaks are again worn. 1 chcnc fabrics are all the Ims dresses, cloaks and hon -1 dresses are made immensely fad crops out in the new black is used on all light wool will not go out of fashion i. iguedoc lace appears in coffee irts and corsages grow more apes of cloth were the first rs go with black silk and vcl les. plaids take precedence over ans. ruehings are| for I cloaks. 'gray are fashionable oc.on itions. Hlfatd lace veils will be worn by a few HHptric. ladies. belts, pointed front and back, ionable. RryWhrliri tapestry borders are seen upon ■MMy of the autumn dresses. Light wool materials will be de BHsur until cola weather. fabrics of velvet. Bilk and M|Bbl will be in high favor. appear on many sacks, as well ||b can cloaks and mantles. fabrics trimmed with ||stßah appear amon fall costumes. KgPhlsh will be more used than fur for BMbC cloaks and wraps this winter. Velvet brocades take precedence of all S Atees fabrics for the present season. I Plain skirts, with a single narrow I fcttgeuM' flounce will be much worn. Amber satin bonnets embroidered beads and pretty novelties. figgPikin velvet and tiger plush arc Ekfgnd among the new trimming ma- Klpox-plaited balayeuse flounces are HB|gc fashionable than make-plaited I'.White mousseline de I'lnde is the most used for bridesmaids' IT Valvet brocade dresses are made per- Kfltetly plain, without any looping or gsjphe new sfiades of red are Titian, ■MjKaant, garnet, cinnamon, copper and Mkroubier. HBthito satin, white nun's veiling and ■fig make a lovely combination for dresses. Hflfcad, heliotrope and shades of ecru and are the favorite colors of the linings of cloaks. HRpaort* of pelerines, fichns, shoulder ■pili. round capes and mantles are worn Hmßtßiet wraps. ■Hpiver and gold thread and tinsel many of the now white and I Aiseß Spanish blond laces. rnHflpoertain shades of green and blue, with every imaginable shade ■■lid, prevail in plaids. ■Spaae of tbe new French hooded BHpps form a sort of overskirt, but are HBpi too complicated to describe. ■■Mrbang of white and blue serge, EUHpitd around the brim with red cash- scarfs, will l>e worn by little chil iflMls of lace and irrenadinc have large chenille of the shade of the veil, fire dotted with gold, silver, black, ■■fife or red. Bltth large and small flower patterns ■■■lit in new brocades and damasses, mere designs are more in vogue ■figgßMiy otbeis. pjftta monkey, tbe parrot and the ele- BBfitk are tbe three animals fashion figLifc for ladies' cravat pins, in the ptaNKh capital just at present. §f Agfceat deal of gray is nsed again for costumes, but it is invariably by garnitures ol peacock color or scarlet, boys until tbey reach about months wear close French lace and needlework, the |as those worn by little mantle lambrequins are of match curtains and furniture, with pictures of real artistic painted in oil or water colors. the novelties of the season are fißpt twilled silks, with Egyptian de : such as are, lotus leaves, wad f and hieroglyphics brocaded surface. or Veronese surcoats are being by fashionable New York but can never become popular on ....; HBnt of their expense. They are by special measurement of the woven to fit. collars and dress puffs of velvet richly embroidered is gold stylish and becoming. Some- Bti an edge of gold lsoe is added, [are [also made ot garnet, purple, or dark myrtle green velvet, or satin de Lyon, and edged with IB of creamy Languedoc lace. Chinese style is very much af- Bpfl by many Parisian ladies. The Bh of quaint and brightly-hued ■besc goods are worn more and more close to the figure, and are decidedly short, showing the Chinese shoes, which are pointed; at the toes. Both Chinese and Japanese materials are largely used for indoor robes. Portia fans are greatly In favor at the present moment In Paris. They arc mnde of ostrich and peacock feathers, and the plumage of the golden or Im peyan pheasants. Other feathers are employed, but these are the favorites. The centers of these fans are sometimes adorned with heads or wings of small brilliant-colored birds. Tho long cloaks worn last winter are likely to be in general use next season. There is much to be said in their favor, but they have Borne disadvantages. These cloaks completely cover the dress, and are consequently very economical, as old skirts can be worn under them. This is, however, not an advantageous fashion for dressmakers, ns there is no demand for handsome walking suits when these cloaks are fashionable. The Law of M*rrlaee ID France. As there are many American girls who meditate or commit matrimony with Frenchmen, it is well to have the French law on marriages with foreigners Btated. The case stands thus: If an American woman marries a Frenchman in this country in accord ance with American law, and he be un der tli of twenty-five, but of mar riageable age according to our code, the union may be declared invalid in France, unless the bridegroom has ob tained the permission of his parents to marry. As it would not enter the mind of an American girl to imagine that a young man of four-ond-twenty required the sanction ot his parents ere he could be legally married, one need hardly say inquiry on this point is seldom made. The marriage is celebrated and children are born. The family may after a time find it convenient to go to France, and then the unhappy lady who has formed connection of this kind, discovers that in tho native land of her husband she is neither maid, wife nor widow. She may be cast off a. any moment. In deed, if the parents of her husband are powerful and unscrupulous, she may, on their representations, be expelled from the country by the orders and coercion of the police. Painful instances of the working of this law have been recently brought to notice—instances in which ladies of respectable birtli and gentle nurture suddenly found them selves discarded, and thrust with little ones on the cruel streets of Paris, home less and friendless. But for the kindly succor of one or two charitable organiz ations in the capital of France, it is impossible to say what end tney might have come to. However, even after charity lias rescued them from their miserable plight, their condition is and most remain infinitely painful. No amount of benevolence can restore tbe discarded matron to her honorable sta tion. Hlbtooaa. Ribbons, which now form BO large a part of every civilized woman's dress, have become a very important article of commerce, and are manufactured largely both in Europe and America. Until recently, however, they were entirely of foreign product. Their manufacture first attained consequence in France during the seventeenth century. They were variegated with showy patterns, and, about 1680, embossed ribbons, stamped with hot steel plates, each piece having part of the pattern en graved, came into fashion, and were for a time the rage. Figured ribbons were made principally at Paris, but also at Lyons and Avignon until 1723, when Paris secured most of the trade. Before tbe revocation of tbe edict of Nantes there were some 3,000 ribbon makers at Tours; but that measure, by banishing Protestants, broke up the industry there and crippled it at Lyons. In England ribbons are produced mostly at Coven try with steam power looms. The ma terial for tbe warp of the best ribbons is Italian organzine silk, thrown from Italian raw silk; and for inferior sorts organxine silk from India pnd China. The weaving has been done lately in Jacquard looms. A fixed standaid of width is adopted, marked by different numbers of pence, probably tbe original prices, though they no longer have any such significance. The French desig nate ribbons by numbers—from one to to sixty. French ribbons are generally lighter than tbe English; but they are of better silk and better dressed. Rib bon velvets are largely manufactured at Kiefeld (Germany), Spitalfields (Eng land), and Bt. Etienne (France). This country is rapidly improving in making ribbons, and some of them arc equal to those of either France or England. "i Could Die When He Pleased. In the earlier part of the last century there lived in Sootland a Colonel Town shend, who oould apparently die when ever he choee, and come to life at will. His frame would become rigid and co;d, bis eyes dull and ghastly, and his fea tures shrunk and waxy as in death. In this state be would remain for sev eral hours, and then would slowly re vive. He once performed this strange experiment In the presence of three phy sicians, who. perceiving no pulsation of the heart and no respiration, convinced themselves that te was really dead. But soon after they left him he revived. It has been asserted that be actually died while repeating tbe ghastly per formance. Never does a man believe so strongly in the attraction of gravitation as when hs sits down in a chair and finds it COBS. Turkish Domestic Lire. Every Turk leads two lives. He may be in the society of Europeans during six hours everyday. He is then well dressed, vivacious, perhaps intelligent. But this part ot his lite is not the part which forms his motives. It is not then that the final causes are at work which govern his acts. His life, when he is In the busy whirl of the world, is super ficial and unreal. How artificial it is can bo seen in the alacrity with which, on his return to his harem, he lays off his broadcloth clothes or his public ex istence, and dons the white baggy trousers, the open-necked vest, and the long gown dear to his heart. He isonly ready to be at ease when he releases his feet from patent leather and from stockings, and thrusts them into un heeled slippers. Then he is himself, for he is at home. The harem is to every Turk his haven of refuge. To it he may flee from every care. About the harem cling all the sweetest associations of his life. All his best feelings find exercise in that sacred place. His mother, per haps, is there, or his sisters. There only he enjoys the prattle of his chil dren. There alone in all the word can the tired man find the balm of sympathy. There he has his books, and can study tn peace if he will. There he enjoys the riches of his splendid flower gar den. In the domain of the women with hills and vaies and moon-touched sea before his eyes, he dreams away his summer evenings under the subtle spell of nature. And here he meets the con rolling influences of his life. The women of the harem, mother, sisters and wives, wait upon the man coming wearily home from his struggle with life. They are to tiim humble servants or merry companions, as his mood is. They please him with his children, or cave him alone with his books, at his behest. Sooner or later, however, they assert their woman's right of talking on serious topics, and then they have him at their mercy. Now these women who make the home ot the Turks are rarely his equals in mental acquirements. No question blood rules the selection of wives the Turks. A woman bom n a mud hovel often rules in a pasha's palace. At the very best, Turk ish women rarely hnve any education beyond the primer. They believe in signs and wonders; in the active agency of evil spirits; in the existence of a great dragon who periodically attempts to swallow the moon; in charms am 1 incantations. In short, they are as superstitious as they can be after cen turies of hereditary ignorance. But they are positive in opinion, and intolerant of opposition. Moreover, they are, above all things else, ardent and bigoted Mohammedans. Such are the in tellectual surroundings of the Turks during that part of his life which he loves. And when the women of bis house turn the conversa tion upon public affairs, the poor man is helpless in their hands, because he knows the futility of logic in such dis cussion. Often a pasha meets at home a petition which he has refused in his office, and yielding to sheer importunity on the part of his women, he rewards the shrewdness of the man who has found means to invoke such aids. Often it has happened that the pasha disap points an ambassador, and violates his promise to support a new measure, be cause the women of his household object to the deviation from custom. He must yield to his home circle or break with them entirely. These women are under no influences by which their opinions may be changed. They live in a world of their own, and are entirely unaware oi an existence preferable to their own, and know nothing of that outs : de wond to which they arc simply curiosities of antique origin. This glance at the home life of the Turk and its influence upon him leaves little to hope from the Turks in the direction ot voluntary abandonment of old systems and practices.— Uarptr't Magatint. flood Conversation. The tone of good conversation is flow ing or natural; it is neither heavy or frivolous; it is learned without pedan try, lively without noise, polished with out equivocation. It is neither made up of lectures nor epigrams. Those who really converse, reason without arguing, joke without punning, skill fully unite wit and reason, maxims and sallies, ingenious raillery and severe morality. They speak of everything, in order that every one may have some thing to say; they do not investigate too closely for fear of wearying; questions are introduced ns if by-the-by. and are treated with rapidity; precision leads to elegance, each one giving his opinion, and supporting it with few words. No one attacks wantonly another's opinion; no one supports his own obstinately. They discuss in order to enlig bten them selves, and leave off discussing when dispute would begin; every one gains information, every one recreates him self, and all go away contented ; nay, the sage himself may carry away from what he has heard matter worthy oi silent meditation.—# I '. F. Rotiueau. Rats In a f'hureh. The English parish church of Thirsk has been infested with hats. Various means have been tried to rid the edifice of the pouts, but with little success until a short time ago, when an owl was placed in the church. If the owl did not destroy them he had the effect of compelling them to keep vi ry close quarters. A few months ago the bats did damage to the pipes of the new or gan. They entered at the wide end, and the pipes being narrow at the bottom, found themselves nnable to get bacg. As many as eight dead bate were found in a tingle pipe. •'Turning:- Point* !■ Life." Rev. Frederick Arnold thus happily illustrates the difference between the • Providence (hat shapes our ends " and what men call "luck''and "chance": What we call the " turning-point" is simply an occasion which sums up and brings to result previous training. Ac cidental circumstances are nothing ex cept to men who have been", trained to take advantage of them. Krskine made himself famous when the chance came to him of making a great forscnic dis play; but unless he had trained himself for the chance, the chance would only have made him ridiculous. There is a story told of some gentle man, who, on a battlefield, happening to bow with much grace to some officer who addressed him, a cannon ball just went through his hair, and took off the head of one behind him. The officer, when he saw the marvelous escape, justly observed that no man ever lost by politeness. There is a man in Berkshire, Eng land, who hits a park with a walled frontage of seven miles, and he tells of a beautiful little operation which made a nice little addition to his fortune. He was in Australia when the first discoveries of gold were made. The miners brought in their nuggets and brought them to the local banks. The bankers were a little nervous about the business, uncer tain about the quality of the gold, and waited to see its character established. This man had a taste for natural sciences and knew something about metallurgy, lie tried each test, solid and fluids satisfied himself of the quality of the gold, and then, with all the money he had or could borrow, he bought as much gold as might be, and showed, as profit, a hundred thousand pounds iD the course of a day or two. His luck was observation and knowledge, and a happy tact in applying them. The late .Joseph Hume went out to India, nnd while be was still a young man he accumulated a considerable for tune. He applied himself to the work of mastering the native languages, and turned the knowledge to most profitable account. On one occasion, when all the gunpowder had failed the British army, he succeeded in scraping together a large amount of the neceasary materia), and manufactured it for the troops. When he returned to England he can vassed with so much ability and.earncat ness for a seat in the East India direc torate, that he might carry out his scheme of reform, that, though he failed to get the vote of a certain large pro | prietor of stock, he won his daughter's heart, and mvle a prosperous marriage. And marriage is, after all, the luckiest bit of luck, when it is all it should be. There is, then, in truth, no luck. There are turning points in life, mo ments. critical moments, that are worth more than years; nevertheless a great occasion is only worth to a man what j his antecedents have e abled him to I make of it, and our business in life is to , prepare for these supreme moments, these hours when life depends on the decision of the instant. Whatever of truth is veiled under the popular idea of luck and chance is, rightly consid ered, an incentive to the busiest indus try, not aniexcuse for folded hands and idle dreams. Trades Unions In England. Workingmcn's societies in England grow to enormous proportions, possibly because, in addition to their tiades union features, they take the place of the said mutual and beneficial associations so common in this country. Four of the great English societies—the engineers, iron founders, boiler makers, and steam engine makers—have nearly eight thou and members, with incomes amount ing to over one million dollars a year. They paid out in 1879 more than twice as much, chiefly for the benefit of mem bers who were sick or out of work. A million dollars were spent on the unem ployed, mostly in form of donations, but a large amount for traveling ex penses. A quarter of a million was awarded to men on strike, but this was only one-eighth of the whole amount distributed, the societies not encourag ing struggles with employers, except in rare cases. The administration of the affairs of these and co-operative socie ties in England is remarkable for econ omy and honesty, vast corporations being managed for workingmen for years with quite as much success as at tends the business ventures of merchants and bankers supposed to be specially qualified for such undertakings. To-Day and Ts-*orrow. To-day we gather bright and beauti ful flowers—to-morrow they are faded and dead. To-day a wreath ol leaves shades us— to-morrow sear, and. fallen, they crum ble beneath our tread. To-day the earth is covered with a carpet of green—to morrow it is brown with the withered grass. To-d*y the vigorous stalk only bends before the gale—to-morrow, leafless and sapless, a child may break the brittle stem. To-dny the ripening fruit and waving grain—to-morrow "the land is taking its rest after toll." To-day we hear sweet songsters of meadows and forests, the buss and hum of myriad insects—to-morrow breathe softly, all nature is hushed and silent. To-day there are cattle upon a thou sand hills—to-morrow thay fall by slaughter. " Married—ln Chiliieotbe, Herbert L. Kollingslone and Emma J. Moss.' There now I Let's have a funeral for that lying old proverb. New York Graphic. The Henate Pie Ntand. Tue Senate pie stand, says the Wash ington correspondent of the Hartford Timet, was kept by a crippled lady named Mary Burch. She has been there lor many years, and has probably made money. During the time Mary has kept it she has had as customers many of the leading men of the nation. Senator MoCrary, of Kentucky, the most humorous speaker that has been in the Senate since the days of Nye, was a regular customer ol Mary's stand; so also was Zach Chandler. David Davis could be seen there every day the Senate was in session, drinking his glass of milk and eating his piece of pie, for which Mary charged eight cents. Chandler was a grest pie-eater; Senator Vest, of Missouri, was also a frequen but not regular consumer of Mary's famous pies. I remember one day of bearing Senator McCrary invite Senator Ransom, of North Carolina, up to Mary's stand. Said McCrary, whose strongest point was bis economy and saving—he saved, it is said, $35,- 000 of the $40,000 he received as salary for the eight years he was in the Senate—"Ransom, you have lunched me several times, now come and take a lunch with me." Ransom accompanied him, expecting, of course, to be led down to the restaurant, but McCrary walked direct to Mary's pie stand " Mary," said he, " give us two glassqg of milk "d five cents' worth of ginger cakes. Turn'ng to Ransom, he asked, innocently: "Ransom, do you like ginger cakesP" Ransom said he did, but he drank the milk only, while McCrary consumed the five cakes. An other day ho met Conkling walking along the hall. Stopping him, he said: "Conkling, have fomething." "Conk ]|ngsaid: "Certainly," McCrary went over to the stand, and, Itanding Mary two pennies, said: "Hive us two of those long sticks of candy." Taking the largest, he handed Conkling the other, and the pair walked off- One day M iry was asged if Senator Davis ate in pioportion to his size. She an swered: "No, lie don't eat much, but | he is good pay, which is more than some i of them." Senator Davis, besides bis I million-dollar farm, has at least another ! million dollars lying around. Mary j made a cake which was known as the two-cent cake. It was mnde of better material than the ordinary penny cake. Chandler was noticed munching on j them one day by a friend, who asked if he could stand such food. "Stand it!" he replied; "no, I don't stand it. My liver is too active, and I eat these to slop it a little." (•am bet fa's Life. The upper rooms at the Palais Bour- ' bon are less desolately grand than those below; and here, in certain snug petit nppartmenta, Gambetta truly lives. He has had the place fitted up with a special view to his peculiar needs. In one room he revenges himself by the com forts of his dinners on the occasional desolation of the brrakfasts eaten below. He is by no means indifferent to the I pleasures of the table—as a Frenchman of influence he cannot afford to be; but he has learned to cpjoy these with more moderation since his doctors warned him that be was on the high-road to a catastrophe. At one time he never walked, but simply worked and fed, fed and worked; now he does his given number of miles on foot every day, al ways with a companion, and as often as not, with Coquelin, the great comic actor of the Franc&ise. Moreover he takes steady exercise in his gymnasium, and finds the lime for it by getting his secretary to read the morning papers while is u 't ft on the bars. An other part of his reg..., nof be . to take cold douchra, the erase wit,. Frenchmen —and. it may be added. Frenchwomen—just now. The supreme lion ton with the latter is to have a gallop in the Bois, and then jump off the horse, before they cool, to be pumped on with almost ice-cold water. A year or two it wss to rat arsenic for health; hut, of course, the fashions change. Gambetta lias even taken to ie sport, and, whenever ,bo can find time, is out w itli gun and dog. A'' t bis is understood to be part of his physical training for the presidency ol the republic; he has had his poiitkai training long since in many a trying scene.— 1/ondon Timet. Lads and Ambition. There is hardly a man, however mod crate his abilities and energies, who might not look forward to a fair share of human happiness if he were early taught to conform carefully his concep tion of life to Ills powers, and to seek nothing beyond what those powers en title him to look for. And the same is true of women. Weariness of life in the young arises-in so far as it arises from causes that are not purely moral— chiefly from a great disproportion be t veen the kind of career the young have oeon taught to expect, and the kind ol career for which they find themselves fit. There is too much ol the idea that it is good for all lads to be spurred into a sort of ambition for which they are by no means suited. A life of carefully-lim ited desires—a life more or less approxi mating in its reticence and moderateness of aim to that which the old most usu ally live, if they are to live happily at ail —need be by no means an unhappy life for a very large number of the young people of our generation, if only they were not to early taught to look upon such a life with contempt, ae If It were no life at all. In reality, it might be a much more dignified and noble life than the life of fretful competition, and ol unsuccessful or half-successful ambi tion.—Tlte Spectator. Words of Wisdom. Tlje flame of sorrow burns up some hearts, whiie others it parities. The world is satisfied with words; few care to dive beneath ttie surface. The covetous man makes two cento of one, and a liberal man makes a shilling of ft. There is a right way and a wrong way of rubbing a man's mind as well as a cat's back. Truth is always present; itonly needs to lift the iron lids of the mind's eye to read its oracles. Taking a renny that does not belong to one "emoves the barrier between in tegrity and rascality. ljivc of truth shows its'! f in discover ing and appreciating what is good wherever it may exist. Never does a man believe so strongly n the attraction of gravitation as when he sits down in a chair and finds ft gone. Some peop'e are like peaches, soft until you get at their hearts, and others arc like chestnuts, pretty hard to get at, but sweet inside. The* harsh, hard world neither sees nor tries to see>nen's hearts; but where ever there is an opportunity of evil, sup poses that evil exists. It is hard to do anything simply be cause it is your duty. Once make your duty a pleasure and your whole life be comes a quiet happiness. If good people would but make good ness agreeable, and smile instead o frowning n their virtue, how many would they win to tire good cause! Whoever is an imitator by nature, choice or necessity, has nothing stable; the flexibility which affords Ibis apti tude is inconsistent with strength. A good moral character is the first estential in a man. It is, therefore, highly important to endeavor not only to be learned, but to be virtuous. To ft el much kr others and little fo ourselves, to restrain our selfish and to indulge our benevolent affections, con stitute the pern ction of human nature. It is your policy to count on the riches which you expect to have. The Italians say that the man who sells the bearskin before he has caught the bear is a fool. You have plenty of this world's goods if with your little you have content ment. If you have not contentment you can never have enough of anything. Everybody in the world wants to ap pear to be a gentleman, and yet every body in the world forget# that the easiest way to accomplish it is to really bj a gentleman. Firmness of purpose is one of the most necessary sinews of iharacter, and one of the best instruments of success. Without it, genius wastes its efforts ig a maze of inconsistencies. .Seme Curlsns Facts. Insects have no lungs, but breathe i through spiracular tubes, in their sides. Scientists believe that the lightning rod principle was understood and ap plied 500 years before Christ. To purify the river Thames large quantities of lime are daily thrown into it near where the Ixmdoo sewers enter- Scientists have discovered that the mummied bull in the Egyptian museum, London, is a specie of our common ox. An ingenious instrument has been in vented by the use of which the action of pulse accurately measured and photographed. There are some very large animals in the new aquarium at Manchester, Eng. They comprise a sturgeon six feet iong, three monk fish, each over five feet in length, and numerous conger eels longer still than these. The English alphabet has twenty-six letters, the French, twenty-five, the Italian, twenty, Spanish, twenty-seven, German, twenty-six, Slavonic, forty two. Russian, thirty-five, I