Extracted Article Text (OCR)
WL I A 10, 1880 I -N .96 rlllWEEX--LY EDION. AUGUST 10, 18.VL Y-O 6 DOWN BY THE BROOK IN THE 1EADOW a It was down by the brook in the meadow, Where the daisle and buttercups greiv, And the wildfires glistened so brightly, When kissed by the new fallen dew Where the sound of the r.ppling brookiet, As at merrily danced on its A song of joyfql welcome sang To me, one bright Summer's day. It was down by the brook In the meadow, One morn when4oh sun sho-ie serene. I peacefully lay on the green, mossy bank, Indulging In youth's Summer dream. I dreamed of the days that have faded and gone, Those many sweet days of the past I wondered it life would always be gay, And Summer'forever could last.
It was down by the brook In the meadowDut how very the scene 'Ti. winter. The Frost King's cold flugera Have touched the soft sod once so green. I In a -tight, ioy lbatn the brooklet i' bound It nn longer sings merrily, oh I flowers that once grew dowi by the brook Now sleop 'neath a coverlet of snow. .5 It was down by the brook in ti.e meadow That an old man, feeble and gray, With bonded head wrnt plodding along, And unto himseilf thus did say "Uh.
for those days that havo faded and gone, 'I hoso many sweet days of the past, But, alas I I hpve found, in iny travels thro' life. That forever won't las Ro.se Forrester's Escape. "Everbody envies Rose Forrester." The pale girl, in.goli-colored silk, lifted i the broad lids from her clear eyes for a mo-t ment, as he speaker's words reached her ear; then she bent over the Ph1otographs upon her lap again. She handled the pltticreswithani enthusiaslic appreCiat1on of their worthI, so absorb. ed in their examitination as to he totally un- It conseiou of the tall, fair man who stood quite near, looking down4ipon her wit ht an apparen tly suddenly awakened interest.
a "Belonging to such a mce family, an 4i heiress, and so beautiful I' The continued words (if the speaker al reached I oward Abanley's ear, but evident- il ly Rose Forrester (lid not hear them. Sha I irined with a sp'rki'lug smile to her hostess, ti and was at ill talking with her (if the photo- 5( graphs when 'Mr. Clinton brought Howard ti Manley up for an introduclion. ft As sie rose in the full light it revealed thatl ahe was very young, scarcely twenty, yet tall of stature, and wilh a marked repose of manner. 11er beauty was not conspicuous-shor was too Manley saw how perfectly cut was every feature, how clear the lark gray eyes, how dark the curling lashes.
The lips shut over little teeth as white as milk, and the cont our of the face a was a perfect oval. it The girl's natural and spontaneous nanner tokd that. she gave the young man, at. first. no unusual attention.
Little by little she ri observe I him-the fair hair shadowing the ci white forehead, the (lark blue, penetrating ol eyes, the unusual grace of figure, the fault- Is less dress. Her manner was so cordial and friendly and unmistakably charminig that Manley racked his brais for the chance of a )text. meet.ing, but was obliged to a baindon it f( when Miss was joinedi by huer birot her. Bheo left tihe room, but instantly lhe thanked his good fortune at the finding of a ruby 0 scarf pin which he recognized as hers, It ci was easy to deeide the prnamient' too valu. able to be entrusted to a messenger.
I t. was a presumption whilch lie would manageu with ease to call upon and restore it. Rose was not a belle. She had too much dleptha and passi.on of nature to over be a society woman; but she had her admirers, ti and out of them site chose Manley, She could not tell why, but, his looks, ha words, every act had a charm for her, andl the eloquent blood tinging her cool cheok at gi his approach told hain the story of bis ti powbr. 0 lie was a proud maun-he might well have been a happy one-but lie ofteni wore anm air of noticeable weariness aiid dlepres- aion This, in Rose's gentle In.
quiiries, he attributed to iiU health. Spring was opening, wvith its vivid gun, shine, its balmy and Rose was very in happy. It seemed to her that it was tho tl pleasant Influence of the season which mnade lher daily ways so lIght tIhe tender colors, alsghts and sounds surroundinug her daily walk with Manley in the park, which made at them so enjoyable. Perhaps tihey helped to make her spirit strong so thiat'shie dared say to herself, Ir love him and say it withoitt reservation or fear for she know that it was but a little while since she had first met htim, and bi of his past history and much of his present, to she knew nothIng.w she feared nothing for heorself. To love and be surrounded with tenderniess wasc happiness enoulgh for her; site asked no more.
Yet some instinct or trace of -worldly wisdom made her withhol her I conidence from hersbrother, who was her guardhian; he knosw nothing of the iti- nmacy. Fronm the night she had first met Mfanhey at Mrs. Clintoni's party, she never knew any one who knew himi) intimately. HIe told her that lie had nto living female relatives-no home. 1H0 evIdently hiati meanis at command, and procured for her with an ingenuity whIch was almosi gebilts, the rarest and Inost boandf'q gifts.
tier deighited recep.I Lietu of tiem seeied a mutual joy which Preented any p0ssil le feeling of obliga- I ion on hrsi. Irtth4 full Ofpassion-a ate imimiaseg yoth sh'W eaf', ud blind to anything but, the fullness of lie present. Her brother cane'hito thd music-room Fhere she sat at the piano, dreamily play 1g, one day. "Rose, will you give me your attention a few minutes le held an opn letter In his land. He ras twenty years older thani herself, a rorldwise prudent mait.
"Dr. Wingrove proposes for your hand. ou are aware that it will be a very adiiable match, are you not Rose had a strange, stunned feeling, yet lie bowed faintly. Front childhood she ad been greatly uider her brother's con-ol. "I should like to write him favorably, Have you any objection 1" She found herself uponi.lher feet shiverig in the May smishine.
I would have a little time, Edwin." "Certainly, if you wish," though his row slightly clouded. "The doctor will at probably look.for an immediate anver," The next moment Rose had escaped 'onm the room, and wits locked in her tniber. During the next two hours she hidly new what she was doing. She found her. -If'walklug the floor, and( wringing her ands.
At last shesoppedl short, with a mise of pride. "There Is no reason---no reason in the 'orld. dare tell mrbrother why I will it marry Doctor Wingrove." o4e Forrester's Escape.Doctor Wingrove was the noblest and mitlest of men, silgulirly handsome, 'ealthy, and highly conncted, and barely irty years of age. le had known her ice childhood, iever made love to her, it now that the offer of marriage had mie to her, she iealized, somehow, that had always lovedi ner. Hose wias conscious of a rackilig pain in Nr temlles, at last.
The chamber seemedi illing. Catching up her clom and hal, and tying veil of heavy black lace across her face ie went out into the street. She soon WalKed herself weary, without, mting her painful sensation, and, returnig to the street in which her residence as situated, entered the public inclosure ces and shrubbery which ornamented the iuare. A 'ou'ntain bubbled in the centre; stone vases of flowers sent a sweet perine upon the air. So close to her home, she had no timidi1, and, sinking upon a circular seat sirundng a large tree, she gave herself up her absorbing thoughts.
It was soot dark, yet she had not stird. In her black dress, in shadow, she as qutte unnoticed by two men who crosd the street from the opposite side and down behnd her. She would then have risen and glided vay quietly, but that thic movement was rested by Howard Manley's voice. "How soon lie asked. "Now, my dear I'll stand the ik no longer.
I've passed false money I kough for you to shut me up for the rest life, and I value my liberty, singu- rly enough," sneeringly. "Well, well, I am willing enough to go, red. Heaven knows that I am as sick of business as you can be. Coining isn't I prosperity. In a new country I should el like another man.
"The heiress?" "I amt stire of hera. But I don't like toi 'ge a hasty marriage. She has an old fox a brother, who may be inconveniently irious regarding my affairs. If we could alt till the autumn, now, I mlight enter me respectable business." "I tell you it won't do l'' Both rose in their excitement, andl involstarily walked Plainly uinder the gaslight, IRpse sawv oward Manley and is brother pass underI street. They were colners.
More dead than alive, she crept into the B.ut Rose wvas not a weak girl. Ifore midnight she had placed Howard's in a close package and sealed with cm a note, briefly stating that she had erheard the conversation in the park. te next mor'ning it 'was dispatched. As 500o1 as her brother broached the subot of Dr. Wingrove's proposal, shte asked.
have the latter call upon her. lie came, with countenance so hlight of irpose, with eyes so full of truth, that she voluntarily contrasted Hloward's old, r'elent face with it; but she told Dr. Winove till the truth. "Perhaps it was wrong, buit I loved hhin loved him purely-and my hteart is tornd bleeding. I am wild with a secret ihywhich -I must hide from everybody.
I hand never known hinm-but I cannot iagmne that. This terrible experience has maied me; I am not the care- free, happy, nating girl you know. 1 cannot love you; it mie-be. my friend. I must talk I 80ome one, and, oh, ther'e is no one ia the I L)r'ld so hsind as you." "Was Dr', Witigrovd piqued by.this reptioin of his proposal? $0, he was 'too morous and tender-hearted for thaft.
"Poor chil" lie said, in a tone osoothle that, for tho first time, Roe gavd way a relievug burst of passionate weeping. "What shall 1(10? Whlat do you think me?" she asked at last. "We wait, and thiik that I love lie answered quietly. So two kept the secret of Rose's sdrrow ore easily than one, and though her hear4 til.knew its pangs of giit for a time theo mmer brou'ght of scene Wbhi as helpful to a spirit really brave and -In icent. Wingroye -joind Nose and her 'other at the seashore, to find brightness tioeyoung eyoe.again, and to the.
tter it waes weet so kind and noble man friend. Togethier.lhey olhlnhed thoe ok drank In the free air. watched the sunsets and the sea. 0 old they had been congenial, and now they seemed inior happily so. There i8 usully a sacreducss about first love, and perhaps it is expected of me to record the death oi my heroine of a broken heart, bnt I must tell the truth.
In the Autumn Rose married Dr. Win. grove. Sie is one of the happinest wives in the world. The'flIrst love fell fiomx her like a false the second ripen.
ed Into richest fruit. he 011 Pali Tree. Of the multitudnous species of the Palm Family, the products of a few only have found their way into American and liuropean most valued being those of the Cocoanut, the Date and the Oil Palms. Of these the ippearance Df the last is the least familiar to most perions as unlike the others, it has never litherto been accurately pictured In sciontitle and popular works. In Western rropical Africa there are vast regions thickly covered with the members of this species, and it Is from this torrid region, aspecially from the River Bonny, that the largest quantities of palm oil find their way into the the markets.
The trade with the natives Is carried on chiefly bIy barter, glass beads of various forms, sizes, and colors being amonig the principal irticles of exchange. The trunk of the tree from which palm oil is obtained Is selLiom over thirty feet is sarmountd with a tuft of long pianate leaves garnishied with prickly petioles. The flowers ire dioccious, and borne in dense heads, sometimes two feet long and two or more reet in circuniference. In fhese closely spadices the fruit is so compactly Aistered that the bunches bear a strong reieiblance to large piue-apples. The indevidual fruits are about an inch and a half ong, somewhat pear-shaped and when fully ripe of a )right orange color.
They consist of an outer soft, pulpy substance fron which the best oil is which, rorming about one-fourth of the whole, is a very hard, stony shell hiclosing the seeds, mnd yieldng when causlied, a clear, limpid product, called palh-nut oil. The fruit when sulliclently ripe, are gathere I b. men, in large earthenware pots by women, mnd then crushed in mortars. eThey are text placed in large clay vats filled with vater, and women tread out the oil which to the surface and is skimmed off. It.
a thni once more boiled to get rid of the vater, and packed away in barrels or casks or exportation. It still retains the colorng matter of the fruit, which is removed by iubsequent processes in numerous factories i Europe, either by bleaching in shallow on the surface of hot water or by various chemical methods of treatment. As drupe affords only about one-sixteenth )f an ounce of pure oil and each tree only or four pounds, an immense amount labor is required to procure the product md a vast area of forest is annualfy destroy Ad to supply the demands of commerce, Good palm oil Is a fatty subetance of the of butter, 9f a rich orange coloi, sweetish taste, and an oder like that of riolets or orris root. Is Is now ised in the manufacture of candles, soap, i1d also as an axle grease, chiefly for the vheels of railroad cars. At a temperature )f from 75 degrees to 95 degrees F.
it nelts to a very thin fluid, and the older it the greater the heat required to liquify t. By ige and exposure it becomes rancid md assumes a whitish tinge. It is per'ectly solble in other, slightly so in cold 6lcohol, but readily dissolves in hot alcohol, hough on cooling it solidifies. It conRists margerine, oleine, and a solid fat like tearine, which is called palnatine, and onstitutts two-thirds of its weight. PalmIll is used more extenaively for the manu'acture of candles than for any other ant tile process, though somewhat engthy, Is hlighly interesting.
Having been neited by a jet of steam introduced into lie casks, aind freed from all impurities, it mixed with from one-seventh to oneixtha of its weight of sulphuric acid and riskly agitated for about two hours In vihel steam maintains a temperature of bout 850 degrees. The sulphuric acid and heo glycerine, which Is an Ingredient of its omponent fats, are in this way and escape partly by subsequent vashimg. The Impure acids iae then distiled in copper stills steamt-haeatd to a temp. nrature of 000 degrees. Th'ie darkc residue the boilers is made to yield still more by heavy pressure and the black refuse lhat remlains is used for fuel.
Whein coold, the distilledl fat is broken Into cakes ighteen inches long and about an inch nid three-quarters thick. These are spread pen squares of cocon-nlut, and1( are lieu lied on top of each other and submitad to hydraulic pressure at a temperature seventy-flye degrees. Thle fat obtained nay be run at once Iato candles for -the Caropean andc American markets, but for ropical use, it Is again submit ted to presure at. a temperasure of 120 degrees. (leorge Inanerofta Workahop.
Mr. Bancrqft's wprhshop is upon the see. indl floor, in a large square rooim facing thetreet, ia Washungton, D. U. What a place rest and study! Great leather and haker chairs, a great desk In the of lhe room, and all about the walls books and ooks; from tihe ceiling to the floor, on very side, books! aninich of space hat Is not filled.
And he has four rooms ike tis. Th'le table was strewn with saiphlets, books andi bushels of documents ad manucripts. The picture as you enter one you have often seen. An old man itting at hIs desk at work, and a young eeetary opposite copying, verifying and strrnging.docupmenta and both encarled by books! the tour rooms otmpomg: Isslibrary, lhas teV twelve thonsand volumes Trhore are arger collections of books i private houses, mut Mr. hib rij remarkable or; eiig 1'0plctt ttnbktensitVe.
it ceularly richs In to; beat editionls of mndent and is almost all the 6table works in the mobdern European gea feature9pof library ry hAs suel, ii 0ollection of orlgh Ix docuihontis oft i miitary elbling to the country. Hie llegan his great uistorleal in 18'25. It was in this ear he began to gather materIals and to ay out the work that will make his name great whuile the world lasts. ---New W4 in 1717, the re.gent'f 01 he D)uske of Or Lord ilyron's Datighter. have over read the commiienclux and concluding stanzas of the third canto of "Child Harold" without a (lop Interest in the "Ada" lie touchingly apostrophizes.
The story of ier life, Inti. mately enough known in those repertories of unwriten biographies of the aristocracy -the Paul not often been told abroad. It will be remembered that the first and enly born of that unhappy marriage of Lord Byron to Miss Milbank was just five weeks old when the mother and wife, for remasons never satisfact. orily explained, returned to her father's house. hero the infant row into girlhood under the care of tier mnther, and here, af.
ter Lady Byron's accession to tier property, where the foundaioas of August. Ada's education laid. Inheriting uncommon genius, though, as we shall presently explain, wholly diverse from her father's, she was brought up with the most tender care, and educated by the most thorough training. Hier personal beauty developed with her mnd. Sho.described by a person who frequently sAiv ier, when, at the- ago of twenty years, she was living with tier mother at Clifton Springs, as one of the most queenly presence and graceful carriage, her complexion fresh, tier features of perfect contour, her eyes large and brilh.
ant, her head set upon her shoulders like her lather's, her hair chesnut, abundant anti wavy, and her person slightly embonpoint, but perfect in proportions. To these charms tWere wore added a voice of great sweetness, ard a Vivacity in conversat.ion that held in thirall all who approached tier. Hier tastes, however were for. pure mathematics. Whether.
owing to her educationfor she read no and never saw a work of Byron il past her pubrty-or to inheritance frokn tier mother, tier understanding of the eXact'sciences was excelled by no woman of her time, except Mrs. Sonerville, and, indeed, by few of the other sex. In proof of her extraordinary attainments In this reOpect, it is mentioned by time late Charles Babiage, in his "Passages from the Life ot.a Philosopier," that she informed liin that she had translated for amusement "Menabrea's Memoir of time Analytical Engine" from the Bibliotheque Universelle." He proposed that she should add notes of her own. This she did, extending them to three times the 'length of the original memoir. Babbage says that to all persons capable of tInderstanding tie reasoning it furnishes "a demonstration of analysis are copable of being executed by machinery." This translation with the notes may be in Vol.
XXXI of the "Transactions of the Royal Society." Ada Byron was married to the Earl of Lovelace in March, 18,35. The marriage was not an unhappy one. H1er liisband, respectable in talents and domestic habits, Lord Lieutenant of his county and high In social position, suitable in age, and possessed of large estates, regarded his wife with mingled feelings of affection and adniration. Unwilling that she should be known publicly as authoress, lie, nevertheless, oftoner than once gave permission that certain of her articles on various braqches of elohee, about wiich thinking inn made inquiry, might be acknowledged as her's, Children were born to them, their tastes were no more dissimilar than was consis. tent with common If not promotive of unusual barmony: and their home was often spoken of by those old enough to remember the two, by furnishing a happy contrast to that which tier mother had abandoned 1 twenty years before.
But Lady Lovelace craved excitement. Neither town life nor country was sulflcient to satisfy her inherited desire for constant stimulus. Neither fter study nor tier pen, the care of tier children, nor the pleasures of society, hter rank among the aristocracy, nor the admiration her beauty and gifts received' wherever she appeared, were suflicient. She speculated in the funds, bet at horse races, bought and 801(1 ini the stock market, and final ly, during time railway mania, that, under the lead of Hudson, was second eonly In Its universality amoDig the rich and great South Sea bubble of the early days of the last century, partook largely in thme yenture. All this could well enough be without the knowledge, as it was, of her husband.
Beside the ample "pin money" allowed tier the imarriage-settlement, large returns came to hem- from trust funds held( for her in her own right. Bumt she went too deep. 116r risks were unfortunate; and though she aught have recov ered from all this, most tier attorney became a bankrupt, and heor operations wvere in his assets before the Courts, to the world. Terribly mortified, she appealed to her husband, who, to save the scandal of any legal process, canceled tier liabilities by a very considerable p)ecuniary sacrifice. Trho shock however, was too great for her nature, and it hasi alwvays beeni believed by those who best knew what followved that the shame she felt at the exposure was the jremote, if not tihe proximate, cause of hier death.
A rant Work. Somuewhere about 1,000 workmen, 000 or 700 wagonis, seventeen or eighteen locomotive engines, three steam "navvhes" and a qutantity of minor machinery of various kinds have been engaged since 1875 at the southeast end1 of London in'a work conmpared with wivich the building of the pyramids--with modern appliances-would have been no very signal teat. Hitherto thle one entrance to the Victoria docks from the Thames had been at Blackwali point, but, now there is a dock capable of receiving alt vessels, no matter what they might be. T1hre and hialf miles of wvalls have been built, inclosIng nInety acres of water. These walls are forty feet high, five feet thick ot tIme top, and eighteen or nineteen feet thick at the bottom, the whole of this enornious masa being comnpos.
ed of solid concrete, for whIch 80,000 tons of Portland cement have been used. Somec 4,000,000 cubIc feet of earth: have been dug out. It may assist' the finiagination somewhat to slate that if it, Were filled Into ordinary carts the vehicles would form an unbroken line 7,000 miles long. Tme excavatIons have gone through a submerged forest, ant among other curiositIes dug out have been a reindeer's horn, a Roman vase', and what is ouipposed to be ancienta British canoe carved out of solid oak. The latter is now in the British museum.
The new entrance below Wootwichm ill save about three and a half miles of river navig atien1 whicb, in the ease of vessels with heavy draft, is of course a matter of very great Importance. The London and Kthrino's and Viotoria Docks Company are.now prepared for vessels of all kinds, not. excluding the.largest tronolads of the British bavy) The aot has been est irmated toundly. at Violin Making. 'The question whether violin making Is a lost art is answered In tie negative by 0.
L. Chapin, who has been an enthusiastic student of the subject for thirty years. Nothing relating to music, he says, das been more fruitful of silly legends, romance and superstition than tile violin. Not that the old masters did not pi-oduce somte grand instruments. But it Is a mistake to suppose that they worked by a rulo, system or secret, which Invariably gave good results; that a violin is excellent simply because it bears the name of Da Salo, Maggini, Amati, Stradivarius, or Guaruerius, or that the best productions of these masters can never again 1 )e equalled.
Stradivarlus, for instance, made more poor than good violins, and ande more bad ones than any other maker of the great period. He is said to have turned out 2000 instruments, but only twelve really fine cues of his make are now known to be in existence. Da Salo and Maggini each made less than 500 instruments, but only about a dozen of each maker are extant. In a recent work on the subject, Charles Goffrie, after an exainiiaLion of the Crenionas in the Plowden, Gillott, Villaume, Bojour, aid c)thers, says that lie "found that they were decidedly hard in tone, resembling new instruients." And Prof. Le Brun, wio played in the same concerts with Paganmni, uid had in his hands nearly all the noted Uremonas fifty and sixty years ago says that the Cuarnerius from which that great violinist drew such wonderful tones would have attracted little attention in the hands 3f an ordinary professional.
Mr. Chaplin's Donclusion is that "the old' makers made 3omec instruments as good as can be mnade, but emphatically no better. Also, they made sone instruments as goodi as can be made now, but the larger number made by them are not up to the present standard power, and the few that are up to this standard the hands of artists or i and entirely out of the market. A large number of good violins been inade since the great period, and it is safe to say that a large number of instruients bearini the marks of the old makers and xceredited to them were never near Crehbonn." The old insti uments do not appear to have been made according to any Axed rule or principle, but on the "cut and ry" plan. Nor is there any unitorndlty in 1heir make or published directions concerning their I.
Chaplin tells is that he lias.owned two pf the masters' natrunients of the great period and fifty nstruniouts of the best reputed imitators, tis exanined imore than 2000 other violins 3f various grades and patterns, and has read what has been published on the subject, but that lie has failed to find "even how ong to make the f's in a given sized insrunent, to say nothing of where they should )c placed." He gives certain ratios, Incasiremonts, and directions for constructing a niolin in accordance with the lawi of sound, md remarks that 'instruments made to lemonstrate this theory can be seen." Violins, he claims, can and should be made scientific principles, as other musical initruments are. As good violins can be produced here as have been made in Crenona, and the chlet reason why this is not tone, ie says, is that the people will not ay for them. 'The of Life. Alary LeSlie, having been left. a poor or)han.
sought to earn le- living by working a designer in wall papers. This hurt the eclings of her fashionable cousins, the Perivals, with the exception of young Iom, vhoadmired her greatly. Mr. D'Eresby, millionaire, wanting designs for an house ie was about to build, was reerred to Mary, and stepping to her table at he furniture you the irawing girl lie demanded, somewliat irusquely. "'Yes, sir, I am," said Alary, demurely.
"Well," said M1r. D)'Ercsby, aifter a misnent's survey ot the work upion whIch she via engaged, "I believe you're the very (one carry out my Ideas. Mly carriage isl at he dloor-get into it." Alary, bewildered, was whirled upi along Piccadilly, by the side of a man wiho talked Alichael Angelo, Raphael asnd Leonardo la Vinci, as if they were people he had lust met. It was very strange, but, after til, there was an element of "niceness" ihout it. Mary Leslie had had a dearth adventures in her life up to thie present late, andl here seemed the dlawinsg promise one.
Mr. D'Eresby'd suidden apparition on the natrimonial horizon caused no inconslderible sensation, as may readily be conjecured, and half the marriageable young adies in towna prepared their arrowy mnilles and( glances for his heart-among )thers, Josephine Percival. "'I imust miarry rich, argued the young "for I have such expensive tastes, mad I should so enjoy a hadsoae honmie. In aure I'm as good-looklug all the aversge, with a little lily powder, and my hairnicely crepc, and there's n1o reason I mhouldn't win the prize. At all events, I'll "Thant's it," said Tfim, scornfully ''go an and wini." "You're a goose, Tiom said Miss somewhat discomfited.
"I may beo a goose," anisweredi Tom, "but I ain't a girl, glory be thanked I Whiat foo)s they all are---except Polly Lesie I' Miss Percival was introduced by (lint of apecial maaneuvering that very evening to Sir. D'Eresby, and congratulated herself making considerable headway in the rood graces of that extrenmely eligible genloman. And as time went on, app)earanlces crew more and more favorable. Mr L'Eresby was ovideantly amused by her irtless- prattle and lisping observations, md1( it was surely but one step from amusenent to d1ev TIo be sure, lie never maid anything that she cotuld construAe into. piecial meaning on theo ahatrlmomal ques.ion; but as long as timo andl the dictionary were open to la who knew what might iext transpire Mrs.
P'ercival began ravely to consider thme personal merite of matma aid reps silk for- a wedding dress; whIle TIoma, shrewdest of thenm alt, bit the md of lis slate pencil, anid grimnned like a pr-ila." One boamy summer morning, Miss Per3ival made dne of a party of ladies who wvero to view the elegant mainsion, ntow just on the verge of comipletion. Josephmine was In higo spirits, of sourse. "lie certainly must have smeaht someIthing," thought Josephine, 'or he never wot4 have asked -me so parttddhlatry to conie and view thme rooms." Whether Mr. JWEresbmye nteanlg ap plied equatly to the seven other maiden and two blooming widows who accgim panied her, Miss Percival, not' being of i strictly logical nature, never paused to con ilder. "How do you like this rooit" askei Mr.
D'Eresby, as they paused in one whilel looked as much like the heart of a blui bell as a furnished apartment well couh do. A velvet carpet IH shaded azures-a blui paper strewn with tiny fern leaves in gol -blue satin ch irs, and a ceiling just tintef with the pale cerulean of the midday skyIt preserved a strange and pleasing hudi viduality in every feature and corner. "1Oh. it's bee-yu-ti-ful murmured Jo sophine, clasping her kid-gloved hands in i species of lady-like ecatacy. "I am glad you like It," said D'Eresby movng back a tiny marble statuette Eurydice, and critically adJUting an aqua rium in the window.
"This Is to be Mrs D'Eresby's sittina-room "Your mother?" asked Josephine, smil ingly interested. "No-mly wife." "Oh, you puzzling man crled Jose phine, making a little dive at him with hei lace fan. "You know very well you're no married." "I shall be very soon." hliss Percival blushed. The seven othei young ladies looked enviously at her, and the two widows tossed their heads, and muttered something about "artful wiile MIr. D'Eresby threw open a door lead.
ing to a suite of rooms painted and panellet in green and silver. 'I he first apartment, evidently a sitting room, was not empty. A girl in a l)Iain gray walking-dress stood in front of ont of the malachite mantels, making sorm little drawing or memorandum op the back of a letter. sho turnedi as the party flowe into the rooni, and Josephine Percival stood face to facP wkih her cousin, Alar3 Lisle. "You -need'nt stare so, Joe!" said ron Percival, who was looking over the shoul(der of the artiste "it's Polly Les lie-and she designed all these wall-papei patterns; yea, every one of them.
inquired Mrs. Tnaddeus Torrington, the prettier of the two widows. bits Percival turned away, with a fact tihe color of new mahogany. "It's only a designing girl thait--that maimna he employed at different times' faltered Jo.e:phine, secretly resolving that the offending artizaness should have-'such a "talking to" this evening, as she should not soon forget. 'I1 beg your pardon, Miss Percival," said Mir.
D'Eresby, citeliing her words, and coloring high with haughty anger. "To avoid any more such awk ward mistakes, let me introduce to you all, is Leslie, my future wise "Look at Joe I look at Joe croaked Tom, with malicious glee. "She looks as if she'd beet taking a quinine pill Bat nobody had eyes for any one but the pretty young girl In the gray walking suit, whose blushes and dimples, as she orept shyly to Mr. D'Eresby's outstretched arms, looking Infinitely charmilg. It was the romnantic truth.
Mr. D'Eresby had lost his heart hopelessly among the arabesques and labyrinths designed by Mary Lesli's pencil and she had scarcely finished the Patterns for the new house-hefore bir. 1) Eresby asked her to come and live in it. Tom had long been her only confidant-a str4nge one, yet not unappreciative. "I don't deserve to be so happy, said she, smiling, yet tearful, as she told him.
'Yes, you said Tom, hugging her like a young bear. "My eyes! what will Joe say when sile hears it?" And Misas Josephine, instead of being bride of the grand D'Eresby wedding, was forced to descend into the very secondary position of bridesmaid. "'Ain't it all jolly was master Tom's coi)Omet. Theo H.y-Tme Circmus, small boy lookethi upon the circus poster when it is redl, white andl blue; and becometh 1intoxicated with deh ghit. wvhmat is it that carrieth miore joy to the heart, of the smail boy than a (lead wall covered with circus p)osters? Echo might answer, a dieadhlead( ticket coverei wvith the legend "Admit, One." And as the boy gazeth on the pictin of inglescrlbable animals, and upon the impossible anties of lightly clothed men and women, lis imagination maketh all tihe pictures realities and lie is willinig to stake his reputation as a champion marbie pilayer that the coing circus is thec best in the world.
And he longeth to go. So lie is joined by other boys of his age, and they all gaze upon01 the posters andi drink ini beauties thereof. And they miarvel amoing themselves. And one boy sayeth ho has never seen so wondierfuli a display of circus p)ictures. And they soon fall to speculating among as to wheothie each performer really doeth all time tings which lie is represented as doing.
And another one sayeth lie lias seen as wonderful performances as are pictured out on time posters. But his companions laugh hun to scorn. So it, comneth to pass that time boy who haths seen all these tiings is forced to hold lis peace (providing lhe fias not already devoured it), for verily the majority ruleth among the boys. Soon all thme important question comnethm up regardIng the prlospects for crawling unmi decr the canvas, amid they wax enthusiastIc, amid In their they are all ini the circus on thme front seal, each one having found a good p)lace to crawl umnder. But soon one Qf their number the fact thmat lie wvas once caught in the act, and as lie jilates on thme strength of the canvas men in general, and time one who collared him in particular, the courage of the group oozes.
put of -their iudividual finger endls. But the company adopteth preamble resolutions to tie effect that it is necessary that each boy attend he circu4. And one layeth ou 'a-roftirt his'ig and fn ilidpicce'dI oh4 iror whichi his fingers olutclios, verily in the end it contribuieth to the circus fund. Any man who hath ever been a small boy kno.vethi these thmimge to 1B0 true. -Japan lhas now a.large ractory and its prqducts are salid to be tquaL te our bent.
Quasia Vs.Mosquitoes. A few yOars ago we had soffie peoch trees which being on a wall exposed to draugth, were annually blighted. One died, and the now wood of the others were i not more that a hand's length. A scIena tifle friend advised me to try.a weak solu. I tion of quassia to water them with, and the success was complete.
Blight was 3 prevented. The first year the trees bord I well and the wood was elbow length or more. I next tried quassia In the instead of lime-washing the walls to got rid of the green fly, one watering with the quassla dismissed them' in a day. Our head gardener, who had previously much experience in nursery grounds, wondered that lie had never heard of it before. lie now uses it on all cmes as a protection from flies and blight.
The dilution goes a long way: one pound of chips of quassia wood boiled and rcbolled in other water, until he has eight gallons of the extract for is garden engine. le finds it unadvisable to use it stronger for some plants. This boiling makes the quassla adhesive, and being principally to the underr leaf, because most blight settles there, it is not readily washed off by rain, Quassia is used in mediclne as a powerful tonic, and the chips are sold by chemists at frin sixpenec to a shilling per pound. The tree is idlgenous to the West Indies and to South America. And now as to gnats and inosquitoes, a young friend of nilue, severely bitten by mosquitoes and un.
willing to be seen so disfigured, sent for some quassla chips and had boiling water poured upon them. At night after wash. Ing, she dipped her hands into the quassia water and left it to dry upon her face. 'his wits a perfect protection, and continued to be so when ever applied. The pastilles sold in Florence and elsewhere, which are vaunted to be safeguards against, mosquitoes, are froin my own experience, of no use.
At the approach of winter, when lies and gnats get into the houses and sometimes bite venomously, a grandchild of mine, eighteen niontlis old was thus ittacked. I gave the nurse some of my weak solution of quassia, to be loft to (ry on its face, and lie was not bitten again. It Is is inocuous to children, and it iny be a protection also against bett insects, which I have had not the opportunity of trying. When the solution of' quassia is strong, it is we'l known to be an active fly-poison, and is mixed with sugar to attract flies but this is not strong enough to kill sit once. If it be true that mosquitoes have been imported into one of the great hotels in the south of London, it might be very useful to anoint some of the furniture with it.
Then a strong solution with sugar, set about the roonts, ought to clear theni out. India Shawls. An India slian1, like a wonderful painting, possesses beauty untold to the cultivated eye. More wonderful still is this beauty when we think of the lolig, weary hours occupied in making it, and the many stitches Inserted slowly and carefully by different The odd-looking. leaf you admire in one corner, and the gaycolored one in another, exemplify the old story-of meeting;" for the possibility is that they were made fifty miles apart, and then wedded together by the calculating merchant.
It is a little curious to think that in this manufacture the maker loes not know his pattern, even If lie Makes the entire shawl; for lie makes by written di ections, and on te wrong aide, using a needle eiery muou like a natch sharpened at both osie. To make a handsonic shawl requires one yeur's steady Work, and one is insensibly reminded of life's own story-he thread going in and out for so long a with no knowledge of what the result, will be. "'I'he Vale of Cashmere'' to-dlay furnsishies in one way as many beauties as it (lid when Moore sang of its; and If Lailla does not wear the sort, clinging dIrapery, Elnglish and American beauties dQ. Orientalism being 509 ght for in all its phases just now, La Mode deLcreest that, shawls shall be worn more largely than ever before, and suggests a gracefnl method -for it is hard to wear a shawl gro efully-. that will look well on nil; It is, of course, thne doisman.
With little trouble an India shawl may be transformed into one, theo duli green osr chilly-booking blue that forms the centre of the shawl beiig caught up in wrinkles by ain Oriental silk p)lcqueos to asstime the shape of a hood. Someo ladies have their shawls cut, into coats, which are elegant and stylish-looking, but one 1hnds uploni examiniation that no wvoman is barbaric enough t.o emit a real India shawl. Shiawls useud for p)urpose are generally imnitationis of the ladia, the Deccat aiid the Vailloy Cashmere. Ari exquisite wvork ot' art, Is ma )elhsi shawlv, which, after having all the riches ofOriental colorhigs besto wedt tipons it, is further gracedi by threads of gold that, show their presenice by gleaming anid glistening at, each of the wearer. A (ahlmero variety, made In Fr-ance, is In black, cr.iam and cocher; wIth soft, clinging-looking fringe to andi will be used at the seasuide In combination with bright (dresses that need somseting neutral to tone them down.
Uises of Corkc. Thie lightness of cork smakes it superior to all substances for life preservers, isurir.g the buoyancy of lIfe boats. It is also employed as buoys to float pete, anid in raking waterproof shoes. It has ales) been converted tito and used as gun waiddmngs. Cork, as is well known, is a nloiconductor of heat and is porous.
These peculiarIties have been taken advantage of I the manufacture of water coolem whtchl are much used in Spain. They are made of slabs of the wood, bent round circulaur heads of the same, and bodnd with hools. The of the cork allows the water to percolate slowly to the suyfae, and thnere to cool In evaporating, whilhe its noni.cog- ductiug nature prevents the heat of the sunm a warminsg tihe water within. Abpont 80 years ago an ingenIous Intro duced mattresses and cushIfad's cork reduced to dust or shrede feathers, hair or wool tlh' be used alone or combined with' thea mentioned materlals. It was clataq4U those w9uld n)ake es beds, Bsntootl4httanid elastic, anid especially welt adaptedht'.
use eit sea, where, inn case eof they mighlte available a4 iAfe Bat it ia-etIaeht tliat cooat.
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