ffiiii
HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher Nil DE S PE RANDUM. Two Dollars per Annum.
VOlTxTT MDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, TA TIIURSDAyTIAY 5, 1881. NO. 11.
What Time Ii It ?
What time is it ?
Time to do well
Time to live better
Give up that grudge
Answer that letter
Kpeak that kind word, to sweoton "a sorrow ;
Do that good deed yon would leave till to-morrow.
Tirao to try hard
In that new situation
Time to build up on
A solid foundation
Giving up needlessly changing and drifting ;
Leaving the quicksands that ever are shifting.
What time is it ?
Tinio to bo thrifty ;
Farmers take warning
1'low in the springtime
Sow in the morning
Spring rain is coming, zephyrs are blowing j
Heaven will attend to the quickening and grow
ing. Timo to count cost
Lessen expenses
Time to look well
To the gates and the fences ;
Making and mending, as good workers should j
Shutting out evil and keeping the good.
What time is it ?
Time to be earnest,
Laying tip treasure ;
Timo to bu thoughtful,
Choosing true plcasuro ;
Loving stern justice of truth being fond ;
Making your word just tt9 good as your bond.
Time to be hippy,
Doing your best
Time lo bo trustful,
Leaving the rest,
Knowing in whatever country or clime,
Ne'er can we call back one minute of time.
- .V,vt. M. A. Kidder.
DOLLY'S DELINQUENCIES.
" And why should I not go ?" I do -mand,
poutingly.
" Because it is not a fit piece for you
to see, darling," answers my husband.
"I am t iio best judge of wbat is and
what is not fit for me to see," I return,
with dignity.
Will looks at me and stares and
laughs.
"Are you? Upon what grounds do
you put forward your claims for super
iority of judgment?"
" Married women are always allowed
more treed m of action than single
girls," I rejoin, evasively, quoting from
a speech once made to me hy a dis
agreeable married friend in reproof of
some scatter-brained offense I had com
mitted, and which 1 had defended by as
serting that she had done the like deed
hersei f .
" Single girls married women I Ah.
C.i! . you dear little wife of nineteen years !"
4 cries Will, attempting to kiss me ; but
1 am onvimeu, ami turn away my neau.
" I shall go !" I say, opposition only
having increased my desire to witness
the notorious piece now being performed
al the Variety theater.
"No, dear, I am sure you will not
when I tell you I do not wish you to go."
" Indeed I shall, whatever your wishes
ruav be," is my mutinous reply,
' Dollv !"
"Will!"
I return his glance of reproving sur
prise with one of unabashed defiance,
and th'.'i), with every appearance of com
posure, I resume my work.
In and out of the canvas flies my
needle. Will has shut up the book he
was reading, and sits idly fingering the
piper-cutter. He is the first to break
the silence.
" Yon said just now, dear, that mar
ried women have more freedom of action
than single ones. That is hardly correct;
for, after marriage, a woman has her
husband's will and opinions to consult."
Tho lord-and-master style of this
address is too much for me. I never
could take kindly to control in any shape
or form.
" Then I suppose you think a wife
ought humbly to ask her husbari'd's
approval of every trifling deed she per
forms V"
"No, I do not think anything of the
sorl; but I think that there are some
matters upon which a man must neces
sarily bo more able to form an opinion
than a woman, and in these matters the
.wife ought certainly submit her will to
her hnsbaud's."
" Which, being interpreted, means
that I ought to submit my will to yours,
and not to go and see 'Fact and
Fiotion.' "
" Exactly," says Will, with a sigh of
relief, evidently imagining the whole
affair comfortably disposed of.
It is not, though.
" Well, I don't agree with you at all,
and I mean to go. You went."
" I kuow I did, and that is the very
reason why I am anxious you should
not. I saw and heard things that I do
not think it right my wife should see
and hear."
"Well, you formed your opinion from
personal observation, and I shall form
mine in the same way."
" Dolly, understand that I distinctly
and decidedly forbid your going."
The only answer I make to this pro
hibition is a slight shrug of the shoul
ders as I bend nearer to the light in
order that I may choose correctly be
tween two approximate shades of green.
I do not know after all, that I am
really so very anxious to witness this
narticular niece : but I do not like to be
fi thwarted or contradicted. Accordingly
Y 1 I I. II
my nusuauu s voie ueciuea juo. ouun
go, please him or displease him.
It is as well, too, to let Will see that,
though I am his wife, I have an in
dividuality of mv own. I have read and
t I have been told that husbands are too
i fond of reducing their wives to a state
K rt nnlni'lnaa n n niipnt innin rr nhedience.
of treating them, in fact, exactly as if
they were creatures possessed of no
brains, hopes or ideas of their own.
That state of blind subjection is not
at all in accordance with my view of
the marriage contract. It is all very
well to say that one will love, honor and
obey one's husband. Love 1 Yes, I do
love Will bettcrthan any one else in the
whole world. Arid honor him I do, too
he is good and true and worthy of
honor. iJut obey I That is altogether
different thing. He i only man
after all, and not so many years older
than myself.
It is right, of course, to obey one's
parents ; but a husband no, that is ex
pecting too much. I cannot think why
they want to put such an absurd clause
into the service. I do not believe tha,
when women utter the word, they ever
mean to carry out the spirit of the vow.
Y'es, having duly considered the sub
ject, I am rather glad than not that this
cause of disagreement has arisen be
tween us, as I can now assert myself
and show Will that it will be of no use
ever to attempt to domineer over me,
as I intend always to have my own way.
Occasionally I may yield to him; but
only when it suits me to do so. As a
rule I shall act upon my own judgment.
I judged for myself when I married
him. That is positive proof, therefore,
that my judgment is good and sound;
and so I shall tell him if he ventures to
dispute the fact. I shall ask Mrs. Up
ton to accompany me. I do not particu
larly care for her she is rather a flighty
individual, especially for a widow; but
there is not anybody else I should like
to ask.
Mrs. Upton declares that she will be
delighted to go. It is tho very place,
she avers, that she has been longing to
see. I propose Wednesday, as Will
will be late home that evening; and for
tunately Wednesday will suit her ar
rangements admirably.
Wednesday comes, and I feel exactly
as though I were a conspirator meditat
ing some heinous crime, plotting against
tho happiness of some one dear to me.
I verily believe that were it not that I
have settled everything with Mrs. Up
ton I should relinquish all idea of go
ing. Fortunately for my independence,
I cannot with grace draw back. I am
ashimed of my own foolishness I really
am. I can only excuse it on the ground
that Will has been even more kind than
usual, and yesterday brought me home
a pair of earrings such a pretty pair,
and exactly the sort I have been want-
ii dear lellow ! liut men, as 1 re
flect, I am not a child to be bribed with
new toys.
I have told Jane to inform her master
that I have gone out and shall not re
turn till late, and that ho need not sit
up for me.
Tho theater is full; but wo have very
good seats in the dreys circle. I do not
enjoy myself a bit though. I am alto
gether uncomfortable because of the
smiles and stares with which we are
favored. I do wish Mrs. Upton's ap
pearance was not quite so showy I do
not mean to say that she is vulgar in her
manner or gaudy in her dress, but
somehow she manages to make herself
very noticeable. She is not particu
larly nice-looking, but her flguro is
good and her attire fashionable per
haps too fashionable. Then she talks
loudly, and has considerable uniniation
of gesture. For these reasons combined
I suppose she always manages to at
tract attention to her neighborhood.
She does not seem to mind it in the
least, but I do.
The place is horrid, tho acting is
quite second-rate, and the heat is abom
inable. I cannot imagine what Mrs.
Upton can find to enjoy, but she says it
is all charming; and certainly she looks,
radiant enough, while I feel as cross as
possible.
I am thankful when it is over. I
began to think it never would end, and
the audience kept clapping and ap
plauding. How terribly the public
taste must be deteriorating !
I am dreadfully anxious to depart, but
my companion is not inclined to hurry
herself. There is a great rush at the
doors, and we have some trouble in get
ting a cab. The crowd is so rough too,
and my head aches, and Mrs. Upton
keeps saying such stupid things. As
we drive along I resolve that I will
never ask her to accompany me any
where again. It is quite a relief to
reach home, and so be rid of her.
I knock very gently, in order that
Will may not be disturbed; but my
precaution is needless, as Will himself
opens the door.
" Good evening, dear," I sny, gayly.
" But you need not have sat up. I toid
Jane to wait for me."
Jane informed me of the directions
you had given her, but I told her that
I should stay tap for you and that she
could go to bed."
" Oh, if you preferred it so it is all
right then !" I return, nonchalently,
taking off my wraps, and conscious of a
coldness in my husband's tones.
Supper is on the table, but prepared
only lor one.
" Won't you have some, too?" I in
quire, taking my seat.
" No, thank you. I am not hungry."
Neither am I. I have no appetite,
but I force myself to eat some pie and
drink a cup of tea. I start a conver
sation once or twice, but Will, who is
reading, or pretending to read, gives
such curt answers that I do not perse
vere in my efforts.
I push aside my empty plate and
cup, and get up from my chair. Then
Will rises too and comes to my side.
" Where have you been, Dolly V" he
asks.
" To the Variety theatre to see Fact
and Fiction.' "
" By yourself?"
" No; Mrs. Upton went with me."
" Do you remember that I prohibited
your going?"
Beally Will can look remarkably
stern and severe when he chooses.
However, I do not mean to be fright
ened. " Yes, I remember perfectly well," I
reply, calmly. " What of it ?"
" And you went in direct opposition
to my wishes ?"
" Yes, dear, certainly I did. I told
you I should."
He turns away without another word;
and, though I have displayed a proper
amount of dignity and spirit, I am very
far from being elated,
I am utterly wretched utterly,
completely wretched. It is a fortnight
since my visit to the theater, and that
fortnight has been, without exception,
the most unhappy period of my life.
Will has never referred to the events
of that evening. He has not uttered a
single reproach. I wish he would, for
then Z could work up my anger In
answering him, and feel better after
ward. But no; he is as kind, polite and
considerate as though we had never
differed only when he kisses me there
is no warmth in tho caress, and when
he speaks to me there is an indefinable
constraint in his tone.
I do not care of course he may be
offended if ho pleases; but it is so
horrid to fell that there is something
wrong between us. Perhaps he thinks
I shall ask his pardon, and say I am
sorry, and " won't be naughty ever any
more." That is what I used to do when
I was a tiny mite and had been punished
for disobedience and wanted to be for
given. But I am not a tiny mite now; I
am a married women, and I intend to
keep up mv dignity. I suppose we shall
get right by-and-bye, but it is dreary
work meanwhile.
I feel in a particularly doleful mood
this evening whv I cannot say, unless
it is that it has cen raining' all day
and keeps on. raining still. It is an
unusually gloomy autumn, everybody
declares, and I am quite willing to
agree with everybody. It is gloomy out
of doors and gloomy indoors, and Will
is later than ever to-night. I wait
dinner a long time, but he does not
come, so I expect he has been detained
late in the city. After dinner I sit and
shiver, and indulge in tears and retrospection.
In the midst of my misery a post
man's knock startles mo, and Jane gives
a further shock to my nerves bv appear
ing with a telegraphic dispatch in her
hand. Men in business regard telgrams
as quite ordinary methods of communi
cation, and suffer from no unpleasant
emotion on receiving one ; but we
women, who are not accustomed to such
rapid transmission of general intelli
geuce, generally experience a sinking of
the heart at the eight of the orange
hued envelopes. '
I glance at the direction "Mrs. Wil
liam Mitchell." Clearly it is intended
for me. I opened it with trembled fore1
bodings. It is from Will.
"I shall not bo home to-night.
Mother is ill. Shall catch the, express
t j . ill write further particulars.
And I shall not see him to-night, nor
to-morrow, and most likely not the next
ilav either. I cry m earnest now. Bv
the last post the next day I have a letter
With what impatience I tear it open and
run my eves over the precious lines !
His mother is ill verv ill and the
illness is smallpox. " Of course," he says,
"I shall not leave her till she is out of
danger. I will write to you every dav.
I left all in order at the office, and have
sent Simmons a paper of directions
lie goes on to beg of me on no account
to think of going to him, concludes
that he is my affectionate husband, and
finally adds a last exhortation to await
at home his daily bulletins.
Whatever my fears and quailings may
be, illness does not frighten me. Or
dinarv maladii s have no terrors at all
for me, and I am not even afraid of in
fectious fevers ; but I must own to a de
cided dread of sinallp&t.. It is so un
sightly and loathsome a qisease. Still,
whatever risks mv husband runs, these
risks must be mine also. I will share
danger as well as safetv with him. He 1
is quite right in his determination to re
main with his mother. She is a widow,
and he is her only child ; therefore
duty and love both demand his presence
at her bedside. And duty and love
show me that my place is there also. I
acted in opposition to his wishes before
when pleasure was concerned. I have
certainly resolution enough to repeat
the offense for so very different an
object.
1 get a " Bradshaw " and puzzle out
my route, when to start and where to
change. It becomes clear to me, after
a tremendous amount of consideration,
that, if I leave the station at mid-day, I
shall reach W early in the evening.
This point settled, I feel more at ease,
and retire to rest in sweet anticipation
of soon meeting Will again.
On the following day I set my house
in order for an absence of an indefinite
length, and then start on my journey
northward. I have the railway carriage
to mvself most of the journev. An old
gentleman who shares it with me for
part of the way manages, during the
forty minutes he is my fellow-traveler,
to comment upon an astounding variety
of subjects. I reply to him in mono
syllables, having no inclination for con
versation ; but my feeble smiles fail to
arrest his garrulity. He talks on and on,
deserting one topie only to commence
another, till the train stops at a junc
tion, and I am relieved of his company.
W is a small place, pretty enough
in summer but indescribably dull in
winter. Mrs. Mitchell's husband prac
ticed there as a doctor, and since his
death she has remained on in her old
house, being attached to it because of
its associations with her married life.
When I alight at the station and
have given the porter instructions as to
the conveyance of my luggage, I ask
him if he has heard lately how Mrs.
Mitchell is.
" Very bad, ma'am," i9 his reply, and
I turn away with a sad heart.
My mother-in-law has not shown her
self particularly fond of me; she has
been rather hard upon my youth and
inexperience as a housekeeper. But
then it must be a terrible trial for a
mothei to rind herself relegated to tho
second place in the affections of the son
whom she has almost idolized; and
Mrs. Mitchell is a good woman, I am
convinced, a really thoroughly good
woman, and above all she is Wills
mother, and what troubles him grieves
me also.
Ivy Lodge is a low white house,
with a veranda extending round two
sides and a great deal of ivy climbing
about it. I glance at the windowH.
They are raised and the curtains are
fluttering in the breeze; but thank
heaven the blinds are not drawn. The
maid who opens tho door to me has
been iu Mrs. Mitchell's service for
many years. She lifts up her hands
with an ejaculation of astonishment.
" Mercv on us ! What will Mister
Will say 1"
"Hush! How is she?"
" Just as bad as she can be," returns
Charlotte, raising her apron to her
eyes.
" Does not the doctor give any hope?"
"Hardly any, ma'am. Mister Will
he has had two and has sent for a
third."
' Well. T will take off my things first,
and then I will goto my husband. And
Charlotte, will you get me some tea?
I am parched with thirst."
"To be sure I will, ma'am. You
must be tired out with that long jour
nev: and. if von're really come to help
to nurse, it won't do to tire you out at
first start off."
She brings me presently a well-fur
nished tray, and, when I have eaten and
drank, I feel refreshed in body and
strengthened in mind. Nevertheless, I
am undeniably nervous as l approacu
the sick-chamber. I do hope Will will
not be vexed. But it is too late for
scruples; so I push open the door and
enter. '
Yellow shades are hung before the
casements, and for an instant or two the
transition from light to semi-darkness
bewilders me. Then I perceive the
quiet figure on the bed, and beyond my
husband sitting. The movement of my
entrance attracts his attention. He looks
toward mo with a glance at first dubious
and hesitating, but quickly changing to
one of alarm. He rises and passes
noiselessly around the foot of the bed.
" Why did you come ?" he asks, hur
riedly, agitatedly, but not angrily.
" You are here."
"Y'es, my place is here with her,"
pointing to the bed.
"And mine also. You forget that
when I became your wifo I became her
daughter, also."
" But there is danger of infection."
" Not more for me than you. How
could you imagine that I should stop in
town while yon were wearing yourself to
death with anxiety ? I couldn't. Why,
you might be dying and 1 should not
know it 1 And and, beside, I wanted
to see you so badly? Oh, Will, I have
been so miserable lately. Won't you
kiss, and make friends again ?"
1 did not mean to say it; I did not
mean to make the first advance. But I
cannot retract my words now, ond I do
not think I wish to do so either; for in
another moment the peace I crave for is
mine.
Mrs. Mitchell's illness is a protracted
one. She recovers in tho end, but it is
a veritable fight for life a slow and
weary ascending out of tho valley of the
shadow of death. But in those davs of
pain and languor Will and I learn to
understand each other more fully to
love each other more truly.
After all I do take the disease, but
very lightly so lightly that it does not
leave any disfigurement. Half u dozen
marks I have, certainly, but those Will
calls " beauty spots," and will persist in
asserting that they add to instead of de
tracting from my good looks.
Taking Comfort in Lite.
Sooner or later, friends, the time for
olded hands will come to us all.
Whether or not we ceaso from hurry and
worry now, we shall one day shut our
eyes upon it, and lie still untroubled by
the stir and fret of things about us.
Why not take comfort as we go? You,
proud mother of a beautiful, active boy,
of what use will it be to you to remem
ber how exquisitely fine was his raiment,
how daintily, spread his bed and how
costly and profuse his toys ? What the
child needs is mothering, brooding,
tender resting on your heart, and he
needs it every step of the way from baby
hood to manhood. Take the comfort of
your opportunities. Never mind though
the dress be coarse, and the food plain,
and the pluythiugs few, but answer the
questions, tell the stories, spare the half
hour at bed-time and be nierry and gay,
confidential and sympathetic with your
boy. And you, whoso graceful young
laughter is just blushing cut into the
bloom and freshness of a wondrously
fair womanliness, do not be so occupied
with your ambition for her and her
advancement in life, that you let her
ways and your own fall apart. Why are
her friend's, her interests, and her en
gagements so wholly distinct from yours?
Why does she visit hero and there, and
receive visitors from this and that house,
and you scarcely know the people by
sight s You are losing precious hours
ami the comfort you ought to take is
flying fast away on those wings of .time
that aro never overtaken. (olden j
Lessor. j
Why It Pays to Head I j
One's physical frame his body, his i
muscles, his feet, his hands is only a i
living machine. It is his mind, control!-j
ing and directing that machine, that gives j
it power and ellicacy. The successful
use of the body depends wholly upon
the mind npon its ability to direct the
will. If one ties his arm iu a sling it i
becomes weak and finally powerless.
Keep it in active exercise, and it ac
quires vigor and strength, and it is dis-1
ciplined to use this strength as de
sired, just as one's mind, by active ex
ercise in thinking, reasoning, studying
observing, acquires jivigor, strength,
power of concentration and direction.
Plainly, then, the man who exercises
his mind in reading and thinking gives
it greater power and efficiency, and
greater ability to direct tho efforts of
the physic! frame his work to better
results than he can who merely or
mainly uses ins muscles, li a muu
reads a book or paper, even one ho
knows to be erroneous, it helps him by
the effort to combat the errors. The
combat invigorates his mind.
Of all men the farmer, the cultivator,
needs to read more to strengthen his
reasoning powers, bo that they will
help out and make more effective his
hard toil.
The Four-Leaved Clover,
In Germany there is a belief that the
four-leaved clover, on account of its
crossed form, is endowed with magical
virtues. The general form of the super
stition is that one who carries the clover
about him will be able to detect the
presence of evil spirits, and will be suc
cessful at play. In Bohemia it is said
that if a maiden manages to put the leaf
into the shoe of her lover without his
knowledge on going on a journey, he
will return safely. The four-leaf clover
in various regions is believed to protect
one from witohes and keep butter pure,
on wnicn account, it is con&Kierea a
good form for a butter mold.
FOR THE LADIES.
Fashion In llnlr.'
By tho way, there has not for ten
years been a' timo when the women of
New York left tho coloring of their hair
so much to nature as they do this
spring. Bleached blondes are migl-.ty
scarce, and when found are bad. Even
gray hair is not concealed, and the only
hirsute falsification at all fashionable is
the turning of auburn and brown to
red. Hair-dressing has not yet settled
down into any recognized stylo for
1881, and it is as probable as anything
else that the long-abandoned bunch of
curls will be restored to tho nnpes of
our necks. Ncto Vork Letter.
A Womnn Knviner.
Mrs. Mary Maeutchen, of Lawrence,
Kan., is, according to popular report,
the best farmer of the neighborhood.
Ten years ago she was left a widow with
a few acres of land and four children.
She went to work, literally putting her
hand to the plow. Soon she added to
her property by purchase and improve
ment. In J8f4 she contracted for an
unimproved farm for 1,800, which she
gave to one of her boys. She has since
paid for the land from the surplus prod
ucts of her own farm of 120 across.
Last year sho bought a farm of 150
acres at the price of 2,500, one
fourth of which she has olready paid,
and will pay over the other fourth from
the crops of this yeor. She works her
farm with the aid of her two sons and
without much hired help. This is a
good example of what has been done in
the midst of hard times in Kansas by a
widow with a family of children and no
resources.
The Mistake of .Holders.
Thousands of mothers slave, grow
prematurely old, forget and neglect
tbwir own accomplishments, and drag
themselves about as more appendages,
something between a nurse and a house
keeper to a daughter too young to realize
or appreciate the sacrifices made for
her. It is every person's business to
make morally, mentally, physically, oil
of themselves that is possible, and this
settling down at thirty-five and forty
into an old woman ond taking a back
seat that the daughters may shine is a
mistake, and defeats the very end
sought. There's often altogether too
much done for children, and the chief
result is that of making them helpless,
dependent creatures. Mothers to-da
are saying: "I don't care for myself
now, so that Eflie or Nettio get their
full quota of accomplishments," when,
if that mother went on building herself
up on the basis of her own matured ex
perience and ceased to sink and absorb
herself so completely in Effio and
Nettie, the world with which she came
in contact might be profited. Society
needs matured women as live;, potent
factors, and the shining should not be
left entirely to fledgelings. WTere there
time and space a word would be said
here in this matter for the old man, too,
though he is more apt to take core of
himself.
Silver. Steel mid Siinnlsli I.ncc lloiineln.
The silvered or steel lace bonnets are
much lighter and more dressy than
those of steel-beaded net in embroidery
designs worn during the winter. These
silver bonnets need the stylish salmon,
pink coral, or dark red shade in feathers
or in flowers to give them tone and make
them youthful-looking. Some of the
most elegant of the black Spanish lace
bonnets are the most simple, being made
of a wide scarf of the lace, or else of two
rows of lace that is six inches wide,
with the straight edtres sewed together.
For these, flaring fro tit f mines of medium
j size are chosen, the middle of the scarf
is on top, falling back on the crown and
ending in wide strings. llie lace is
laid in plaits on the edge of the front, i
and each plait is held by a cut steel but- '
ton that is faceted like precious slones. '
Half-wreaths of dark red carnations are
crushed in the lace across the top, ond
some flowers are lurllicr dock on Tiie
crown; inside the front a row of silver
lace is laid quito plain, with scallops
coming close to the edge.
Pink coral with bright yellow is one
of the favorito contrasts of colors, and
when these two Spanish colors are used
with Spanish lace, the effect is excellent,
and is found to bo as becoming to blondes
as to brunettes. Pink bonnets ore also
triven character bv tho use of very dark
red trimmings, either of flowers, feathers
or son sm in. iiiirjiern inttnr,
I'nnlilon Note.
The granite ribbons have come into
use again to match steel trimmings.
Little morning caps are made of phish
or damask with deep frills of lace.
The ribbon knots worn on the loft
shoulder are fastened by a steel butterfly.
Pongee for overdresses is wrought in
dark brown as well os in bright colors.
Only those persons who have long,
slender arms should try to wear sleevts
shirred into two pulls.
A border of flowers and a center
powdered with butterflies, is the design
for a lawn tennis apron.
Sabhes of sheer winte muslin, env
broidered in gay silks, are made up to
wear with summer gowns,
Feather flowers and leaves have been
imported in small quantities, but aro
not likely to be much worn.
More Canton crape has been imported
this season than has been brought into
the country for many years.
The flu tings of lace worn at the neck
and wrists are almost invariably double
this season.
Neapolitan bounetH are Bimply
trimmed with wreaths of tlowers and
lace or satin strings.
The Cramm gingham is a new
material which has wide stripes of pale
or dark pink or blue.
About two yards and a half of the wale
satin ribbon is required to trim a me
dium-sized bonnet.
The berries which the milliners have
introduced this season are used for loop
ing white dresses.
Open embroidery executed on the ma
terial of the gown and lined with a color,
is a new dress trimming.
Some of the' elegant dlrectoire cloak
have tho wholo back of beaded net and
the front of brocade satin.
Brocado and satin wrought with
gold are among the materials used
for parasols, but plain satin is the fa
vorite. Tho Princess of Wales introduced the
fashion of wearing yellow gloves iu the
evening.
As only tho narrowest plaiting of
surah shows below the littlo dresses of
lace now worn by children, the slips arc.
often made of sateen.
Plain silk grenadine is now used fo
make entire dresses, but it is profusely
trimmed with frills of black net dot
ted and bordered with white silk.
The sateens with patterns repre
senting plates aro used for the basques
of plain sateens. They are trimmed
with cotton fringe mixed with gold.
The Florentine grenadines arc like
basket-woven silk, but arc very thin.
Tliey ore wrought with jet ond are
cut up for waistcoats and trimmings.
HEALTH HINTS.
l'j:r,i Kix Lotion. Muriate ammonia,
ono dram; cologne water, two drams;
distilled water, seven ounces; mix and
use os a wash. It contains nothing in
jurious. Wash ron SisiiritN. Take two drams
of borax, ono dram of Roman alum, one
dram of camphor, half on ounce of sugar
candy ond one pound of ox-gall; mix
and stir well for ten minutes or so, and
repeat this stirring three or four times
a day for a fortuight, until it appears
clear and transparent; strain through
blotting paper and bottle up for use.
An Excellent Diunk fou the Sick.
Toast ripe Indian corn quite brown, or
even a little black, and put it into hot
water to steep; drink when cold. This
makes one of the best drinks for the
sick, and will often stop sickness at the
stomach when all other remedies fail.
Light Blankets. There is a good
! deal of sense in the following advice:
j Never use anything but light blankets
to cover the sick. The heavy, imper
I vious counterpane is bad, for the reason
that it keeps the exhalations from the
; pores of the sick person, whiln the
j blanket allows thein to pass through.
: Weak persons are invariably distressed
by a great weight of bedclothes, which
i often prevent their getting any sound
j sleep whatever.
j Best fob. Headaches. Dr. Day says,
I in a late lecture: Whatever be tho
plan of treatment decided upon, rest is
the first principle to inculcate in every
severe headache. Best, which tho busy
man and anxious mother cannot obtain
so long as they manage to keep about,
is ono of the first remedies for every
headache, and we should never cease to
enforce it. Tho brain when excited as
much needs quiet and repose as a frac
tured limb or an inflamed eye ; it is ob
vious that the chances of shortening the
seizure and arresting the pain will de
pend on our power to have this carried
out ellectually. It is a practical lesson
to keep steadily in view, in that there
: may lurk behind a simple headache
! some lesion of unknown magnitude
; which may remain stationary if quietude
j can be maintained. There is a point
worth attending to in tho treatment of
; oil headaches. See that tho head is '
I elev
rated at night and the pillow hard,
if it bo soft the head sinks into it
for
! and becomes hot, which with some
people is enough to provoke an attack j
i in tho morning, if bleep has been long i
and heavy. j
Eyesight.
Milton's blindness was the result of
overwork and dyspepsia. Mult itudes of
men orwomen have made theireves weak
i for life by too free use of the eyesight,
reading small print, and doing fine sew
ing. In view of these things, it is well
to observe tho following rules in the
uses of tho eyes: Avoid all sudden
changes between light and darkness.
Never begin to read or write or sew for
I several minutes after coming from dark
ness to a bright light. Never read by
twilight or moonlight, or on a very
cloudy day. Never read or sew directly
in front of the light or window or door.
It is best to have the light fall from
above, obliquely over the left shoulder.
Never sleep so that on the first waking
the eyes shall open on the light of a
window. Too much light creates a
glare, and pains and confuses tho sight.
The moment yon ore sensible of an effort
. to dislinmiish. that moment cease and
take a walk or ride. As the sky is blue
and the earth green, it would seem that
tho ceiling should be a bluish tinge, and
tho carpet green, and the walls of some
mellDW tint. The moment you are
prompted to rub the eyes, that moment
cease using them. If the eyelids aro
glued together on waking up, do not
forcibly open them, but apply the saliva
with the fiugers. It is the speediest
diluent in the world. Then wash your
face and eves in warm water.
Fretful Words.
Why be so severe in dealing with the
faults of those at home while we excuse
anything friends or acquaintances may
do ? The laws of politeness should be
binding at home as well as abroad. We
j enjoy seeing our husbands and wives
lioiuu lo our nciKiioorx, omv lei us ue
sure to practice our good manners at
home. There ore husbands who would
hasten to assure a neighbor's wife, who
had, in her haste, burned her biscuits,
that they "greatly enjoyed them when
they were so nice and brown," who
would never think their own wives
needed the same consideration. No man
cun be a gentleman, though ever so
genial abroad, who is a tyrant or habit
ual fault Aider at home ; and no woman
is a real lady who is not a lady at home
in her morning wrapper, as well as iu
silk in her neighbor's parlor. One mem
ber of a family who tegins the day with
fretful words and harsh tones, is gener
ally enough to spoil the happiness and
temper of the whole for the day. Not
all who hear the impatient word give
the angry answer, for many choose to
suffer in silence ; but every such word
makes somebody's heart ache ; and, as a
rule, it is somebody whom we love and
would do anything for, except to keep
back the unkind, sarcastic word. Then
do not let us make ourselves and other
n'usewvblo by being fretful at homo,
xt Summer.
Beautiful things there are coming this way
Nearer and nearer, dear, every day
Yes, closer and closer, my baby.
Mischievous showers and faint little smells
Of far-away flowers in fur-away dells
Are coming in April, my baby.
Sly 1 it tlo blossoms that clamber along
Close to the ground till they grow big and strong
Are coming in May, littlo baby.
I!osct and bees and a big yellow moon
Coming together in beautiful June,
In lovely midsummer, my baby.
Pretty red cherries, and bright littlo flies,
Twinkling and turning tho Adds into skies,
Will come in July, little baby.
Feathery eh.uds and bng, still afternoons,
Scarce a leaf stirring, and birdies' soft croons
Are coming in August, my baby.
Glimpses of blue through the poppies and wheat,
And ono littlo birthday on fast Hying feet,
Will come in September, my baby.
- Lavra lA'hjard, in Unrer's Young VopirJ
HUMOR OF THE DAT.
A jobber's cave A burglar's confes
sion. When things go to D K how C D
they B come.
Marriage keeps men out of mischief;
and so does a ball chain.
The material for good soldiers must
be planted in drills. Picniune.
Decisions in law suits aro rendered
the same as lard is rendered by try
ing. Lowell Courier.
Why is a fellow with a bad cold in
the head like Niagara Falls ? Because
he's a catarrh-racked. New .York News.
APhiladelphian has resolved to starve
himself to death. Ho will engage board
at a watering-place ond never fee a
waiter. Elmira Advertiser.
Some colleges would never be heard of
if the students didn't cut up iu an out
rageous manner occasionally ond get
into tho newspapers. Saturday Night.
It has been discovered that three
coats of paint do not keep a house any
warmer than no coat at all; but people
will hang to old prejudices. Detroit
i''t'fl Ye'.
It was their first night aboard the
steamer. " At last," he said, tenderly,
" we aro all alone out upon the deep
waters of the dark blue sea, and your
heart will always beat for me as it has
beat in the past ?" " My heart's all
right," she answered, languidly, " but
my stomach feels awful."
"Yon ain't taking any stock in
woman's love, eh?" " No," he answered,
despondently, " it's all flummery."
"Very strange," added his friend.
" Yon didn't use to talk that way."
" I'erhaps not," he replied, "but I've
been married nearly two years, and
there are four pair of trousers hanging
up in my closet waiting tq4e patched,
and not a stitch taken in them yet."
Rhode Island papers are telling a
very beautiful story of a clergyman
who visited an insane asylum and was
attacked by a maniac, but who broke
into a song and sang it so sweetly and
clearly that the lunatic was calmed. A
Chicago man recently visited the Cook
('ount-v msano and while there
j sa" a s.onS; eyeral ot 1 ie. 'nmates
were so toncneu mat iney trieii to es
cape. Cli ice i'jo Tribun e.
Monster Teloscnries.
California means to beat tho world in
telescopes, as in everything. It seems
to bo a law of optics, in the use of that
kind of telescopes known as refractors,
that no amount of increased size in the
object glass, beyond a diameter of per
haps twenty-eight to thirty inches, will
avail to improve the powers of the in
strument. What is gained in magnify
ing or space-penetrating power is lost
in the diminished clearness of definition.
But the astronomers and telescope
mukers do not all believe in this law.
The great glass ordered in this country
by thellussian government, and which
is now in the slow and patient process
of transformation from a rough and
bulky disk of glass into tho ground
down, scientifically shaped and polished
lens of a great telescope, is one proof of
the conviction that increased size in a
refractor should give increased power.
The great glass at Washington, by
which the moons of Mars were discov
ered, is in diameter twenty-six inches;
the one ordered for the Russian observ
atory at Pulkowa is to be at least thirty
inches. Even that, it appears, is not to be
the largest of the refractors. The trustees
of the Lick observatory, in California,
have finally closed tho contract for the
optical part of the great telescope pro
vided for by the will of the Cali
fornia millionaire. There has been con
siderable doubt whether a refractor or
on enormous reflector wouh'.be selected,
but the decision is jn favor of the former.
Jhe object glass is to he three
feet in diameter, and the Clarks, of
Cambridge, Massachusetts (who are
making the glass for Itussia), are to
make this California lens for 850,000.
The mounting for the instrument is iibt
yet provided for. Proposals will be ob
tained from the principal instrument
makers of Europe and this country be
fore tho contract is awarded. Probably
the mechanical part of tho instrument
will cost about as much as the optical.
It cannot probably be completed in less
time than three years.
It is believed by many that the power
of this monster glass (for, compared
with other refractors it is a monster,
though reflectors are constructed of a
much larger size), will be proportionate
to its size. If it does prove successful
it will be by far the most efficient glass
ever pointed at the heavens, nnd under
the clear skies of California ought to
accomplish great things for science.
Sot Agreeable.
As a rule the plain, unvarnished
truth is not agreeable. Speaking it is
not always a virtue. Concealing it is
very often judicious. It is only when
duty calls upon you to reveal tho truth
that it is commendable. A tale-teller
may be a truth-teller, but every ono dis
likes the character of a person who goes
from one house to another and inter
communicates all ho ie or heart.