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After the toil and turmoil,
/And the anguish of trust belied;
(After tho burthen of weary cares,
JBaffled longings, ungranted prayers.
After the passion, and fever and fret,
After the aching of vain regret,
After the hurry and heat of strife,"
The yearning and tossing _that men call
Faith that mocks and fair hopes denied,
"We?shall bo satisfiod.
When tho goldon bowl is broken,
At the sunny fountain sido;
When the turf lies green and cold abovo,
"Wrong, and sorrow, arid loss, and love;
"When tho great dumb walls of silenco stand
At the doors of tho undiscovered land;
"When all we have left in our olden place
Ts an empty chair and a pictured face;
"When the prayer is prayed, and tho sigh is
"We?shall be satisfied.
When does it boob to question,
Whon answer is aye denied?
.Better to listen the Psalmist's rede,
And gather tho comfort of his creed;
And in peaco and patience possess our souls,
Whilo tho wheel of fato in its orbit rolls,
f Knowing that sadness and gladness pass
Xike morning dows from tho summer gross,
And, when onco we win to tho further side,
We?shall be satisfied.
AT DAGGERS' POINTS.
.. ~ I _
* "You see, I've had considerable cxpeTience
in these Aneona and Ford way
shares," said Mr. Leigh, rubbing the bald
spot on the crown of his head. "And I
^advise you to go in for 'em!"
"Thanks," said Richmond Grey, carelessly,
"I'll look into the matter."
"And all this time lam detaining you
Trom your dinner," cried Mr. Leigh.
*'Pray excuse me; I never thought of
"It's of no consequence," said Grey,
moodily. "I don't know but that I
shall step into Delmouico's."
"And Mrs. Grey?"
The young husband shrugged his
"Pardon an old friend's curiosity?but
I hope you have not quarreled?" asked
Leigh, with a solicitous glance.
"Quarreled? We never do anything
"Are you in earnest?"
"Yes: serious, sober earnest!"
"But?pardon me, once again?yours
was a love match?"
"And you are not happy?"
"I don't know why," said the young
man, with a perturbed face. "No, we
are not happy. Agnes never meets me
with a smile. I have done my best to
please her, and in vain?and now I have
loft off trying!"
And Redmond Grey sauntered off with
his hands in his pockets, and his chin
drooping listlessly upon his breast, while
old Mr. Leigh looked after him with a
"There's a screw loose somewhere,"
said he. "There he goes, into the restaurant
with Archer and Lonsdale;
there'll be several bottles of gold-seal
damaged, and a round bill to pay, winding
up with an evening at billiards."
And off trotted Mr. Leigh to the beefsteak
that formed his frugal dinner at a
cheap eating-house. For Mr. Leigh belonged
to the noble army of old bachelors.
At the same hour a tall, beautiful woman
was pacing \ip and down the floor of
a handsomely furnished dining-room in a
brown-stone house up town, while the
rustling of her rich amethyst-colored silk
dress made a sound like the waves of the
"It's too bad," said Agnes Grey, biting
her full scarlet lip. "The second
time he's been late within a week. And
yesterday he forgot all about that box
for the theatre. But I'll show him what
I think of his behavior when he comes in."
She rang the bell sharply, a servant
answered the summons.
"Dinner, Spencer!" said she.
"But, ma'am, my master has not "
"Dinner, I say! Do you hear me?"
Miss Tilly Ilandley, Agnes Grey's mature
single cousin, shrugged her shoulders
as Spencer left the room.
^ "Is it worth while to excite yourself
about such a trifle, Agnes?" she said.
"A trifle!" cried the indignant young
wife. "I don't call it a trifle. If the
man had a particle of affection left for
tne he would not treat me so!"
"If he could see your face just at present,
Agnes, he would be pretty certain
to absent himself," quietly observed
Miss Handley. "Do you know, my dear,
I think you scold him too much?"
"Not enough, you mean."
"I mean just what I say. A man don't
*11 At- t i ' " ' "
UKe me reins neia too tignt."
Bat whon Richmond Grey himself
sauntered in later in the evening, a cloud
' came over her classically beautiful face.
"Well," said he, "does any one want
to go to the opera to-night?"
"To the opera?" echoed Agnes with an
expressive glance at the ormolu clock,
-which occupied tho place of honor on
the mantel. "It is too late."
"Not a bit too late. Who caves for
the overture? Will you go?"
Mrs. Grey coldly shook her head.
"I do not care to go **ow."J
"Very well, then I shall go alone."
V "Just as you please," said Mrs. Grey,
* haughtily. And Richmond Grey went
out, closing the door not very gently behind
Agnes bnrst into tears. "He behaves
Uke a brute," said she.
V.J/ V. ' V , *,Tv-" /, r o mM* V A . v
V ; v - V ' *' ' N??^ ' .
"And you behave liko a goose," said
Tilly Hand ley. "Now ho will not coma
back until the 'wee sma' hours,'?and 1
would not if I were he."
"Let him stay away then," said Agnes.
"Oh dear, how I wish I had never left
uncle and aunt Masharn!"
"I have no doubt Richmond wishes so
too," said Till}', calmly.
Two weeks from that evening, Richmond
Grey came home with a tiny little
bouq :et of hot-house flowers in his hand
and a new book under his arm. It was
the birthday of his wife.
"We are not happy," said Grey, "but
perhaps it is partly my fault. If I go
back to the manners and customs of old
courting days, perhaps the old charm will
return. At all events, it is worth trying
As lie opened 4he door and entered liis
wife's boudoir, a curious sense of vacancy
and desolation smote upon him. No
one was there; but upon the table lay a
small note addressed to him. Mechanically,
he opened it.
"When you read this," were the words
that saluted his eves, "I shall have left
the protection of your roof forever. I
feci that we cannot make each other
happy, and it is useless longer to keep up
the farce of social happiness and mutual
esteem. I shall return to my uncle and
aunt. You arc free to select your owu
path in life. Agnes."
Richmond Grey dropped the cruel billet
as if an arrow had smitten him to the
"Agnes!" lie gasped. "Agnes, my
wife, my darling!"
For never until this moment, in which
he learned that she "was gone, did he
comprehend how dearly he loved licr,
how necessary she was to his happiness.
He sank pale and half paralyzed "with
horror, into his seat, covering his face
with his hands.
"Agnes! Agnes!" he gasped, "I can
not live wunouc you. "
lie started up with a low cry. Before
him, dressed in black serge, like a palo
and lovely nun, stood his lost wife*
"I could not go, Richmond," she
sobbed. <4I could not leave you when
the moment for my final decision came.
I did not know how deeply rooted was a
wife's love for her husband. And I began
to realize that I had been haughty,
cold and capricious?that I had not always
treated you as I should. Will you
forgive me, Richmond? Will you let us
begin our married life over again?"
<fMy darling Agnes!" was all that ho
could say, but the tears that glittered in
his eyes spoke more eloquently than any
That was the night of their new betrothal,
the end of all their married miseries.
And the key to all the mystery
was very simple?to bear aud to forbear.
"I thought it would all come right in
time," said Miss Tilly llandley, triumphantly.?Neio
Daniel Webster's Plough.
On one occasion some Boston friends
sent Webster as a present an enormouseized
plough to use on his place. Web
stcr gave out word that on a certain day
it would be christened. The day arrived,
and the surrounding fanners for miles
came in to witness the event. A dozen
teams with aristocratic occupants came
from Boston. It was expected by everyone
that Webster would make a groat
speech on the occasion, reviewing the history
of farming from the time when Cincinnatus
abdicated the most mighty
throne in the world to cultivate -turnips
and cabbages in his Roman garden. The
plough was brought out and ten yoke of
of splendid oxen hitched in front. Moro
than 200 people stood around on the tiptoe
of expectation. Soon Webster made
his appearance. lie had been calling
spirits from the vasty deep, and his gait
was somewhat unsteady. Seizing the
plough handles and spreading his feet, he
yeuca out to tnc anvcr in 111s deep, bass
"Are you all ready, Mr. Wright?"
"All ready, Mr. Webster," was the re.
ply, meaning, of course, for his speech.
Webster straightened himself up by a
mighty effort, and shouted:
"Then let her rip!"
The whole crowd roared with laughter,
while Webster, with his big plough proceeded
to rip up the soil.?Belfast (J/ij.,)
Willing to Day Monkey.
A small boy was on a visit to his aunt
at her residence on St. Anthony Hill.
He played about the house for some
time, finally came into her presence and
began crawling about the floor on all
fours in imitation of some animal.
"You're a perfect little monkey, aren't
you ?" interrogated his aunt.
"No'm," exclaimed the little fellow,
as he straightened himself up, "but Til
be a monkey if you give mo some of
those cookies I had the last time I was
here."?Bt. Paul Globe.
An Unfinished Sentence*
"Mr. Cold cash, I have come to ask fo*
the hand of your daughter."
"My daughter, sir?"
"Yes. I can't live without her.n
"Well, sir, finish your sentence."
^Finish my sent.nce?"
j "Yes, you were about to say you could
not live without her income. Let us b?
frank, my dear sir."?Chicago Rambler,
. . .. . .. - . , ? - '
MAKING SOAP~ "
How a Very Useful Household
Article is Maufactured.
The Various Operations by Wliioli a Bar
of Soap is Produced.
Soap making is essentially a chemical
operation. Soft soaps arc those which
have for their base potash, while hard
soaps have for theirs soda, and arc made
by open pan boiling, in which the glycerine
is eliminated. This class probably
includes 90 per cent, of the total soap
made in English speaking countries, and
is divided into three different kinds, viz.:
Curd, mottled and yellow. "Whatever
kind of hard soap is made the first stages
of the process are the same for all.
To commence a boiling of hard soap,
melted fat and caustic soda leys are simultaneously
run into the copper, the
steam is turned on and the contents boiled
until a small sample coolcd between
the lingers has a to crably linn consistency,
and when applied to the tongue has
no caustic taste or only a very faint one.
The operator is obliged to be very experienced
to judge of the completion of
this first operation, called by some pasting
and by others killing the goods or
raw material. In this condition the soap
contains about nine-tenths of the total
soda necessary for complete saponification,
with a large excess ofxwater, which
is separated from it by the next operation.
To effect the separation a quantity of
common salt is sprinkled into the copper
while still boiling, or the strongest brine j
is run in; this addition is nisidr* rrmtimm
ly and gradually (care beinq taken to allow
solution of the salt), and continued
until a small sample removed upon a
spatula or trowel allows a clcar liquor to
ruu from it. During this operation of
graining, the contents of the copper are
liable to boil over with great violence.
When this point is reached the whole
process is stopped and the steam turned
oil; the copper is allowed to stand from
two to three hours. Its contents then
divide-themselves into two portions, the
upper consisting of soap pnstc, holding
about 40 per cent, of water, and the
lower of a solution known as spent lc3's,
containing common salt, carbonate and
other soda salts present in the original
leys as impurities, and nearly all the glycerine
of the fat employed. At this
stage rosin is added for the yellow soap,
being broken into lumps and shoveled in,
unless it is combined with soda in a separate
copper and mixed with the fat soap
in the next operation, which ;s termed
clear boiling. All the goods having been
killed and the spent leys removed", a
small charge of leys is then run in and
the copper boiled for two or threo hours.
At the end of this timo the soap has a
faint but decided caustic taste, and a
small sample on a spatula allows clear
leys to run off it.
This operation communicates additional
soda to the soap, and washes out as it
were some of the salt entangled in it.
After some hours' subsidence the half
spent leys that sink to the bottom are
| pumped off, and are used in another cop1
per for killing more fresh coorls? fho
soap made from such leys however is of
inferior color. The copper is boileil
with open steam until the contents are
perfectly homogeneous and in a state resembling
a stiff paste. A sinall stream
of leys is now allowed to trickle in, until
the paste again separates into cakes of
soap and clear leys; the soap now tastes
strongly of caustic soda and feels hard
when cold; this is technically called
"making" the soap. The mode of finishing
depends entirely upon the kind of
The soap having been finished in the
copper the noxt stage is transferring it
into the cooling boxes, or frames, as they
are usually called. Curd soaps are always
carefully skimmed off tho leys by
ladles, as they arc too stiff to pump, and
most mottled soaps are in this condition
also. In large factories yellow soaps arc
invariably transferred to the frames by
suitable pumping machinery.
Curd and yellow soaps arc cooled rapidly
in cast iron frames of any desired
shape or size. One frequently adopted
is almost water tight, the superficial
measure being 45x15 inches and the
height 50 to GO inches. The four sides
are held together by bolts and nuts, and
when the soap is cold (aftor tho lapse of
three to seven davs for this *V?r>on
are unscrewed, the sides are removed and
a solid block of soap is left standing on
the bottom of the frame. This is at once
cut into slabs and bars, or may be slid
bodily to store. Occasionally, such
frames are mounted upon wheels for convenience
of transport about tho factory.
When it is desired to cut the soap, the
sides of the block are marked with n
scribe the teeth of which are set at the
thickness desired for tho bar of soap. A
brass or steel wire is then taken by two
men and drawn through the block, which
is thus divided into slabs; these are removed
to a machine which divides them
into bars. The cutter itself is worked
by a lever frame, which contains wires,
or for very hard soaps, thin steel knives;
tho slab is placed longitudinally and
nearly upright on the base board, and the
lever frame is then drawn through it.
/The bars thus formed fall back upon the
shelf behind, whence they may be romoved
sad *et aside to get .cold. Tb.
. V # ' . *' '
<\\ ' <y.y. . y bars
when removed from tho machine j
arc placed across each other in open pile
in such a way that air freely circulate?
among them. When thoroughly drj ^
they are stood away iu close pile or packed.
The bars of soap when freshly cut and ^
still soft are usually impressed with some
words indicating the name or quality of (
the soap, and the trade mark or name of
tlic manufacturer.?Brooklyn Ewjlc.
Men Willi Elastic Skins. 1
The number of rubber-skinned persons *
has strangely multiplied. The first of I
them in this country was Ilerr Ilaag, who '
came over here several years ago, and
was at first worth $200 a week as a curi- 5
osity. Gradually public interest in him 1
has waned, until now he is quoted in tho f
freak market at $75 a week. He has a *
skin that can be pulled away from hia '
body in any direction to a surprising extent,
like the skin on a healthy dog or an
otter. The skin of his throat can be
brought up to cover his face clear to tho
eyebrows; the point of his nose can be
pulled down to his chin; the skin on his
breast can be dragged out a foot, and
when released snaps back into its placo
smoothly. All his skin possesses like apparent
elasticity. But the fact is that
it does not really stretch any more than
any other person's skin. The doctors
who made a very careful examination of
Ilerr llaag when he first came over here t
4U..1 1?!> 1?-- * 1 I
a.?iu niiiL ins peculiar uuuity was causea | t
by absence of the tissue that iu other (
persons connects the inner and outer ,
skins, and so when the outer skin was r
pulled it simply yielded from all direc- (
tions until the tension was relaxed. ^
Only one similar case was recorded in j
the medical books. But now there arc (
in the United States scores of per- f
sons who get from $15 to $25 each ,
week from the dime museums for exliib- ]
iting themselves as possessors of elastic ]
skins. The fact is that they are what is ]
know in technical parlance as "fakes." t .
That is, they possess just a little abHity (
to stretch their hides, and by tugging at | .
them constantly in certain exposed places, j
eventually succeed in stretching them ,
further and further until thev approximate
somewhat to Herr Ilaag's peculiar
superficial extensibility. But, at the
best, none of them can stretch more than
about one-third as much as their great
model.?Keio York Sun.
Near-sightedness is increasing in our
country to an alarming extent. It was
comparatively rare a century ago, but
now it aftlicts a large proportion of the
children in our public schools. It is one
of the evils created by civilization, and is
almost unknown in savage life. An' official
inquiry in Germany indicates that
this evil is more common there than in
the United States, and that it is the
direct result of bad habits of study.
The pliysicans who made the examination
report to the Government that in
children ot live years old the vision is j
generally perfect. During t\e school i
age the defect increases steadily. In tho I
lower schools fron^fifteen to twenty per J
cent, of the scholars arc affected; in tho j
higher schools the proportion reaches
forty to filtv per cent.
It is far worse in tho professional
schools; reaching fully seventy per cent,
of theological students, and over ninety
per cent, of medical students.
The physicans ascribe the trouble to
the poor print of the text-books, and to
the general habit of holding books too
near the eyes. It might be wed to make
a similar examination in our own
country, in order that public attention
be aroused to provide, if pos
sibie, a cure lor tins growing evil. It
is a grave misfortune if public education
creates a near-siglitel nation. ? Youth?*
Cumpa n ion.
The Grizzly Bear.
In some of tlie western papers I have
noticed recently that there has been a
discussion in progress regarding the extreme
weight of grizzly bears. Very few
fine grizzly skins find their way to this
market, as the hair is generally rubbed
off the haunches of the arflmals. Tho
home of the grizzly is supposed to be exclusively
west of the Rocky Mountains.
East of that range we find the cinnamon,
oiltrai* fin nnrl KlnnL' Kon?< T -? ?*a!l> I
OA ITWt bljl/ UUU uvm XkL YV t'l^Ub
there is about the same relative difference
between the grizzly and cinnamon
as between the silver tip and black bear.
The lait two avoid the presence of man,
while the former will ferociously attack a
man. The grizzly in weight is only
equaled by the white polar bear. Thomas
Smith of Rock Island, 111., states that
he killed many grizzlies in California in
1850, the largest one being in the Luisin
Valley and weighing 1,220 pounds.?
Ilatter and Furrier.
The Ho? of Honduras.
While it would grieve me to offend the
modest vanity of the swine-breeders of
the states, truth compels me to say that
with all their efforts, and perfect as they
fancy their Poland-Chinas and Berkshires,
those gentlemen have not succeed.j
i'u iu prouuuiug nujiuing reaemo'.ing tne
hog of Honduras. But when by some
unaccustomed circumstanccs the hog of
Central America has had food enough to
put a little flesh on hiB ample stock of
bones, that flesh is incomparably superior
in flavor to the oily gros* product of the
north.?Chicago Timu. - .
LADIES' DEPARTMENT. i
Women Rulltiic niontann.
Not every girl wants to get married, 1
>ut all of them want to vote. Only last J
rear at the elections in Western Montana
or territorial school superintendents there
vere four Richmtmds in the field. Three 1
)f them were females and the fourth?a 1
In Bozeman old placards on the fences -1
jan still be seen, appealing to the passers
;o "Vote for Miss Hamilton, the People's <
Choice." Miss Hamilton got there and i
lcr competitors were all left, "the man" '
wringing up the rear. <
Helena has a lady superintendent of i
ichools who has Indian blood in her veins '
ind who is highly educated. She has
ilso marked dramatic talent, and plays |
Jliarlotto (Jushmau's roles.?JSrcw York
A Fnalilonnlile Bridal Outfit.
A very fashionable bridal outfit just
inislied at a prominent store gives quite
i good idea of the magnitude of sueli an
>rder. There arc twelve hand embroilercd
walking skirts, one dozen embroidered
flannel and cambric underskirts,
one dozen night robes, richly
ximmed with lace, lawn toilet sacques,
:orset covers, beautifully trimmed, and
>ther undergarments, one dozen cacli, all
ilaboratcly trimmed with lace and needlework.
There are six walking dresses,
>ix reception gowns and six dinner toilits.
Among the six wraps there is one
>f white cashmere, richly embroidered
svith gold cord; this is for evening wear.
The array of bonnets and hats number
>nc dozen; four arc made to match the
prevailing shades in just so many walking
suits. The bride's dress is of white
lut velvet, with long square trains, perfectly
plain. The plastrons on the sides
ire of creamy white ottoman silk, thickly
studded with seed pearls; the front
breadth is covered with rows of Spanish
lace. The bodice is high in the neck,
with points front and back. One band
af orange blossoms and one clustcr of
white pinks are used in festooning the
kick drapery, which is formed of a wide
and very long Spanish lace scarf.?New
A Sontlieni Romance.
Says the Macon (Qa.) Telegraph : Many
Macon people will remember that in 18G5
the City Hall and the old Market Ilouse
were used as a hospital for wounded and
sick Confederate soldiers. The ladies of
the town constituted themselves nurses,
and perhaps in no other hospital in the
Confederacy did the patients fair so
well. Ono day a lady went to the hos"
pital to visit "her soldier." She was accompanied
by a very handsome married
lady, a refugee from New Orleans. When
they reached the cot upon which the
soldier lay writhing with pain caused by
the recent amputation of his left arm,
they ministerod to his wants and then sat
by and cheered him with gentle words of
comfort. As tliey were leaving the soldier
requested the New Orleans ladv to give
him a small Confederate flag which she
wore upon her breast. She gave him the
flag, first writing her name on the white
bar. The soldier recovered, the war
ended, and he returned to his homo in
Alabama. As something not to be forgotten,
it should be mentioned that at
the time he was in the hospital he was
unmarried, and continued so after the
war. A few months ago the soldier had
occasion to visit New Orleans. He remembered
the lady that gave him the
flag, and made inquires about her. He
discovered that her husband died soon
after the war, and that she, a widow,
was still living in New Orleans. He
called on her. Then he called again. In
fact he called many times, and a few
days ago there was a wedding in New
Orleans in which he and the lady figured
A Marriage Mart.
A remarkable custom exists among the
Roumanians living in the westerly Carpathians.
Every year, at the Feast of
tho Apostles Peter and Paul, a market is
held on the crest of the Gaina, from
5000 to 6000 feet above the level of the
sea, and here all the marriageable girls
of the entire district assemble with their
parents in order to be viewed and claimed.
Mothers, aunts, grandmothers, and
various other female friends contribute
to the dowry, and this completed, it is
carried to the market on Gaina in neatly 1
made trunks, decorated with flowers, and
carried by the family's best horses. Cattle,
bees, and other household requisites
are also added to the dowry.
On the Gaina every family which has
a marriageable daughter occupies a distinct
tent, in which the dowry is exhibited,
and in which the brideviewers
are expected. The
bachelors, too, are accompanied by
.parents or relatives, in whose company
they inspect the girls who are eligible.
The young men bring the best they possess,
and each must particularly come
with a girdle of gold or silver.
After the brides are chosen the public
*?* -1 vklana tvAinsv Ail
UGCrOlUUl UIIV.W Muiu^ wuvtuvwu
t>y a hermit who lives in this loDely spot.
The mark of betrothal is not a ring, but
a beautifully embroidered handkerchief.
The betrothal is in many cases prearranged
; but tho ceremony must 'be gone
through all the same. If a girl goes to
the market knowing beforehand that an
admirer will be there to claim her, so
*4i;fe* >;b. gfe; - <
.V>.V ' ;j. . ' . ..tV - . .. ; . ... -
nuch the better for her. Still slio must
;ake hor dowry and occupy her teut and
>lacc herself oil view like the rest.?Pall
A Wealthy Flrct-Ilorn'a I>rru.
Italian papers dwell with delight on
:he christening dress of the lirst-born of
;he )*oung Princess di Galatro
CJolonna (neo Miss Eva Mackay),
which is perhaps the most uniquo
specimen extant of the finest point
PAlencon lace, of ercat beauty
smd rarity. The dress, made as a looso
?lip, is bordered with antique lacc a
quarter of a yard in width, the remainder
of the garment being woven to
correspond, and having the arms of the
Colonna family designed in lace-work
upon the corsage. The same lace trims
the cloak of cream-wlxite crcpc de chine.
The Duchessc de Mouslcy (Princess Anna
Murat) declared that the dress surpassed
in beauty the famous christening robe of
the late Prince Imperial. The lacc is tho
most superb that has been seen in Paris
for years. Even the weeding flounces
of the Queen Regent of Spain cannot bo
compared to it. Mrs. Mackay, mother
o>Jf the Princess, has a collection of laces
that surpasses any of the royal houses of
Europe. She possesses the celebrated
tunic and flounces in point
d'Alencon manufactured for tho
Empress Eugenic in 18G9, and
left in her flight from Paris. This
lace was copied from a pieco originally
in possession of Mine, dc Pompadour.
But the layette of the young Roman
Princeling was made and furnished in
California at the Ladies' repository of
San Fraucisco, of which institution Mrs.
Mackay is a directress. It is remarkable
chiefly for the exquisite fineness of the
materials and the dolicacy of the work,
Valenciennes lace being the chief trimming
employed. Some of the embroidery
on the flannel skirts and
blankets is the work of a "lady over
seventy years of age, and is of great
beauty. The basket is shaped like a
shell, and is bordered with a white laco
Fancy straws are all the rage in mill4?
Both bracelets and bangles hre fashion
Jewelry is again in fashion and is
worn more than before for several
Canvas material have fringed borders
Striped pongees show delicate combinations
i>ew suit gooas are scripea witii seersucker
Some of the new bonnets have perfectly
Black silk stockings with lislo thread
feet find a large sale.
Pale pink and silver is a much admired
combination for ball dresses.
Bodices for bridal dresses are low in
the neck and short of sleeve.
Satin mervilllcux with shot effects U
used for stylish spring toilets.
Ostrich feathers of two different colors
are seen in some of the new fans.
Duck and white or fancy linen vesta
arc worn with tailor-made dresses.
Cactus cloth is a new material with a
surface composed of soft silvery hairs.
A novel but effective apron is made of
narrow strips of seersucker with insertion
of Russian lace.
In the combinations of striped and
plain colors for costumes either fabrics
may be used for the skirt.
Among quite new styles in round hats
are the French toques and the English
walking hats with double brims.
Black and white stripes are in demand,
as are little stripes in other hues; then
there are checks again and plaids.
Collars of ruby velvet are edged with
jet beads and fastened with bows of velvet
ribbon corresponding in color.
The variety of styles of parasols are almost
as great as bonnets; in fact, they
are in many cases made to match.
Small crochet or ball buttons are used
for the bodices of dresses the skirts oi
which arc trimmed with largo buttons.
Ottoman silks were by no means a pass
ingfancy, many who wear expensive toilets
selecting them in preference to the cheapei
Ruchings for the neck, of crepe lisse,
mull or gauze, finished with loops oi
narrow ribbon, gold-corded edges or tinsel,
are still in style.
In silk and lisle hosiery the dark colors
prevail, and the custom of wearing
black, so general the past season, will be
adhered to by many.
Among the newest ornaments for the
hair are rosettes of ends of ribbon cut in
swallowtail points and fastened as hair*
pins. Large rosettes of the same styU
are worn at the belt.
Diagonal fronts upon both baeques and
street jackets are very popular, and English
cutaway coat? fastened diagonal!)
_ ll A !? + fl I I _ 1
across tne cnest witn iwo tuitions are aisc
considered very chic.
A walking costume of moss-colored
canvas striped with brown, old gold and
myrtle, has a pleated skirt. The onlj
trimmings of the postillion bodice art .
collar and cuffs of velvet, corresponding
I to the ground tone of the dress.
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