MONKS OF GRANDE
Experience of a Visitor to the
Monasters' in the Dan
THE HOMES OF THE FRATERNITY
The Cloister and Chapel— Daily Fare
of ihe Monks — An Ex-General
and Other Prominent Officers
Among the Members of the Or
.' der—Lady Visitors.
Pj^^llE incomparable beauty of the scen
_!-_ cry, of which 1 had keen told, writes
'"• jiV* a correspondent of the Boston Her
ald, the mysterious silence of the cloisters,
of »huh I had heard, the renown that at
taches to a powerful Institution, more auto
cratic by its statutes than the most despotic
government, the numerous legends which
" have gathered round the blonde liquor to
be seen to-day on so many tables, the
stories about the life led by monks buried
alive voluntarily in tombs of stone that for
pine months in the year are covered
with snow as with a white blanket
all these things united created naturally a
■longing to see and know the Grand Chart
reuse. There are several ways by which tho
monastery maybe reached from Paris. Per
haps the better one is to take train at the
("are de Lyons for Grenoble; go thence to
Voiron, a country town, whence a public
GEUERAL VIEW OF THE MONASTERY.
carriage, drawn by miserable backs, will
carry your party to St Laurent. On the.
way you will see some pretty vistas bounded
by mountains, but they are not remarkable.
Beyond St Laurent the scenery assumes a
marvelous and grandiose appearance and
luxuriant vegetation gives to the trees
Leaving the town of St. Laurent, the
route follows the hanks of the Giers-Mort,
as a mountain torrent is called, that runs
quietly a hundred feet below the pathway
and almost out of sight for some distance
and then with a sudden caprice bounds
wildly from rock to rock in wild fury. The
road is known as that of the Desert and
formerly entrance to it was forbidden, as it
led to the paradise of peace and forgetful
ness, where the .'hartreux long ago buried
themselves in their mountain fastnesses.
The greater part of this road was executed
at the beginning of the present century,
but mules alone could then pass alone it.
In later times the Administration of For
est? pierced tunnels, constructed bridges
and blasted rocks, and now
TILEPaE IS A SPLENDID ROADWAY,
Along which not only mules but persons on
horseback, carriages and horses may pass
each other. We followed this road between
its high mountain walls for five and a half
miles, and it seemed to me that this narrow
path, in which even the sunlight is dark-
.JLfJ? ■^»^L& t rf i^&* t- ■y<^xr*»-^*<' !&&&*?%*** ''■\*-J*ijJ?i \W t-\\\\ ' &£tz^ m -t' *ir^f-'^ "^ *** wi\'*^
ened by the thick shade of overhanging
trees, and where the only sounds are those
of noisy mountain torrents, harmonized ad
mirably with the terrible solitude that
Bruno and his companions chose to estab
lish themselves In 1084. A small bridge,
called the Pont de St Bruno, spans a
ravine, and under it is a staircase leading to
an arch, hut it would be impossible to reach
the road without a long ladder, In answer
to questions, the conductor said that dur
ing the last two years military ingenuity
had been at work constructing mines, and
that even behind the mountains among the
Chart-ens one might some day feel the hor
rors of war. It is almost a defiance thrown
at nature, a singular point of contact be
tween the life of the cloister and the agita
tion of battle-fields, By and by we arrived
at the monastery, without having seen that
we were approaching It. Situated nearly
40.J0 feet above the sea, it Is on a high sum
mit, remarkable for its dimensions and the
diverse constructions that give it tho ap
pearanco.of a village. It is very compact.
is this funnel-shaped Inclosure surrounded
by high mountains, among which the
Graurl-.om, highest of all, lifts its sharp
peak into the clouds, while on a clear day a
large iron cross may be discerned standing
out in bold relief against the blue sky at its
I *^~*^^^3l^^i *<3ftfe>&-*~ •
The door was opened by a brother when
I asked hospitality; be bade me enter, and
I was soon within a bouse in which have
'entombed themselves so many for whom
illusions have vanished, and where no wo
men, with the exception of crowned heads,
have ever penetrated. My guide led me
across a long court-yard in the center of
.which two streams descend from the moun
tain, making night and day a mournful
sound, to the common hall, or sort of can
teen, with pious engravings and carriage
notices stuck on the walls. People were
eating, and an old bearded brother was
' seatea at the desk ready to receive orders
for food and drink, liquor, rosaries, or
photographs. From him I learned that it
was too late for that day's round of visits,
- but he would be most happy to permit me
to see the church, the hall ot the chapter
house and the library, and he called one of
•the servants, of whom, by the way, there
. are about twenty attached to the monastery.
Apart from its cloister, the interior of the
•Grand Chartreuse is nothing much, but the
cloister, some 660 feet long, and lighted by
110 window.-, has an imposing aspect. The
chapel is small and
QUITE DEVOID OF WORKS OF ART;
It is divided into two i arts, one destined
for those of the Chartreux who are priests,
the fiVw tv Up' 'steal brothers. The hall
of live chapter-house, in which are rows of
wooden benches attached to the walls, and
the portraits of the general fathers painted
on the ceiling, has no interest for the pro
fane. Here each year, in the first week in
May. the priors of all the houses of Char
treux meet to occupy themselves with
spiritual and temporal affairs connected
with their institutions. The little cemetery
was next visited. On one side are graves
surmounted with a stone on which is the
name of the defunct, and beneath these
stones sleep those who have been at the
head of the establishment. On the other
side are simple wooden crosses without in
scriptions, and these mark the last resting
place of the common brothers.
The library, which possesses 25,000 vol
umes, is the only part of the institution
where there is any evidence of luxury. In
it I saw silent phantoms in white hoods
carrying, replacing, seeking docnmentaiy
volumes— books big and little. The refect
ory is a beautiful arched room ; a table at
the end is reserved for the prior of the
bouse, the others occupying tables iv rank
of priority. The forks, spoons, egg-cups
and plates are all made of wood, but the
little vessels for wine and water are made
of earthenware, and these have two han
dle,--, for the monks use both hands in drink
ing. Not a word is spoken during the meal,
but a brother chant* the lessons for lhat
morning. "Sot a very lively way to have
one's dinner, perhaps, but then the Char
treux are not supposed to be funny men;
and they only take their repast in common
on Sundays and on certain fete days.
I was, like many others, under the Im
pression that each cell was composed of a
single room, but that is a mistake, for each
inmate has his own little house, all being
made after the same pattern. Near the
door is a little wicker gate, through which
the monk receives bis food. Which is always
without meat, and visitors have likewise to
conform to this regulation. Should the
brother require aught else he writes down
his needs and leaves the paper at the
wicket, and presently he finds at the same
I place what he asked lor. First of all I
traveled a little gallery, which in winter
months serves as a promenade ground— in
summer there is a little garden
IX FBONT OF EACH MONK'S _Ot "SE,
I In which he may exercise. On the ground
j floor ot the building was a wood-pile and a
joiner's work-shop; above was a bed-room,
I with its sort of cupboard bed, a coarse mat
tress and bolster, cotton sheets and a
woollen coverlid. Facing the bed an ora
tory; on one side a little niche, with earth
enware basin and a piece of soap; floor of
stone, and walls are whitewashed. On the
wall hung a mountain staff. Once a week
the monks enjoy a walk in common up the
mountain side*; then they talk to their
heart's content, and make the mountain
echo with their laughter. A little work
room, furnished with a table, two wheels
in wliite deal wood and a rush-bottom chair,
complete the lodgings. Here and theie, by
way of ornament, may be seen images of
saints, a crucifix and a rosary.
It was early dusk, but the mountain peaks
were still touched with the lingering glories
of the setting sun. Not a sound was to be
beard. Even the birds seemed to find tbe
atmosphere too heavy, and preferred re
maining in the lower regions. Such a sen
dition of melancholy came over me that I
was glad to hear a little noise; glad to get
away from the oppressive solitude. Dinner
was being served for visitors as well as for
the monk', no difference being made in the
menu, which consisted of an omelette,
beans, fried fish and cabbage soup, the
whole accompanied by passable wine, with
a glass of chartreuse to aid digestion. The
monks drink good wine, but never taste
chartreuse. Nor do they as a body manu
facture this golden liquor of world
wide renown. The manufactory is situ-
/-V HIS OWS GARDES.
ated at Fourvoirie, five miles from the
monastery, at the entrance to the Desert,
and ISO workmen are employed in tne dis
tillery, the operations being superintended
by three or four brothers. The accounts of
receipts and expenses are kept at the mon
astery, and some idea of the extent of the
business and its profits may be gained when
I tell you that the Grand Chartreux pay the
State 2,000,000 francs annually for the right
to fabricate chartreuse, and they make a
profit each day of 10,000 francs, the greater
part of which is spent in good works. The
brother in charge of the accounts is an ex
military Intendent, and among the forty
Chartreux at present in the monastery
there is an Italian General, a German
Colonel, and a man who was
LIEUTENANT IN THE FKENCII CAVA I.IIT.
-Many of them, brought here from feel
ings of chagrsn. intended to leave before
the time for taking the vows arrived, but
the fear of being called n defrocked checked
their desire to return to human life. What
romances could be written if one could fur
a moment lilt the veil which conceals the
lives of these men. V. 'hat somber dramas,
what deceptions, what chagrins of love
may not be covered over by tbe winding
sheet of a monk's robe.
The present monastery was built in IGTU.
after a lire which was the eighth that re-
A MOSES JJEDEOOJT.
duced to cinders all the buildings. An
avalanche and eight conflagrations are a
good many catastrophes for one institution
Lady visitors to the place find hospitality
in an infirmary hard by, managed by sis
ters. All women are obliged to separate
from the males of the party on the thresh
old of the monastery. After supper hus
bands may go and see their wives in the
parlor of the infirmary, but they must re
turn by 10 o'clock. Just before going to
the. chapel I met one tourist who told me
lie had been to see his wife, and after wait
ing a few minutes she had come in, led by
a sister; but the atmosphere of the place
seemed to have affected her, and she walked
with a dreamy air and half-closed eyelids.
The clock struck 12; I huriied to my room,
turned in, and slept soundly under the
smile of a saint on the wall until the sound
of the monastery bells, slowly calling the
Chartreux to morning prayers, awoke me
from my slumber.
A necklace of great antiquity was found some
time ago la the course of some excavations on
Lord Homo's property, at Dundee, Scotland.
Ibis necklace was claimed by the Crown as
treasure-trove, but the Treasury, alter much de
liberation, has returned It to Lord Home on con
dition thai he presents It to the Museum of An
tiquaries at Edinburgh.
THE MORNING CALL, SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY, JUNE 29. 1800- FOURTEEN PAGES,
The Correct Costumes for Arch
ery and Badminton.
Gown and Bcdice So Charming That All
Young Girls Will Want Them— ia Effec
tive Background for Black Velvet.
Special to Thk Sun-bay Call.
IV-fTiFaYV TORK, June 23, 1890— "Once
lAi'i. "* >on a lil " e ""en people took a
i.sj holiday i'.i.'l an outing in the sum
mer months they were content, all but the
very juvenile among them, to spend quiet,
restful days at their chosen resort. To
drive about, to take an occasional sail, to
wander idly in search of wild flowers and
ferns, and finally to finish up the day with
a little dancing, a bit of moonlight flirta
tion, or, if tin' eveniiif. were cool and rainy,
with a game of cards. This was the old
time idea of summer amusements.
But the young women of to-day laugh to
scorn such tame and simple occupations.
They must have as many different pursuits
as there are hours in the long summer day;
must be on exhibition or in competition
with each other from morning till midnight.
Flowers, unless they bo the rarest and
most expensive of the florist's treasurers,
they disdain ; and the only "fern" they have
any use for is Redfern, to whom they are
indebted for their wonderful gowns and
wraps, and for those distinctive costumes
which announce themselves at once as spe
cially designed for and dedicated to this or
that particular form of amusement.
The Redfern tennis and yachting gowns
have long been world-renowned, and this
season his fancy has taken a wide flight
and lias provided appropriate apparel for
almost any game the girl of the period may
wish to indulge in. The latest inspiration
is an archery costume, which is so charm
ing thai all maidens will waut to take to
the bow and arrow for the right to wear it.
■■■.■■-■ - ..'■■ ■ ■ ■ -..■■- ■ ■ , ■ t . ■'
An archery costume.
It is a tea-colored batiste, embroidered
all over with pink, blue and brown arrows,
and is drape. 1 over a skirt of the soft wash
silk—a fawn color with narrow stripes of
pink and blue. The blouse waist has em
broidered scallops around the bottom, down
the front and upon the turned-over collar
and cuffs. The hat is very unique, being a
Tain o'Shanter of leghorn, with a curled
ostrich tip over the right side.
One fry Eudmenton.
is the companion sketch. Its most notice
able feature is the serpentine rows of velvet
in graduated widths, from under the right
arm to the loot of the skirt, and also form
ing tho V neck. The material of tho gown
is a primrose veiling, which makes an
effective background for the black velvet.
GEMS IN VERSE.
Written for The Sunday ('..i.u
AS A CHILD THAT HATH A-WEAKY
a iiw*S a cliilil that hath a-wMry grown
MamJt *" all tn( * work and all lie play,
W __ in which bave sped the hours of day,
>%'• * When shadowy night ascends her
Hies gladly to Its mother's kneo
And pillowing its tired head.
Arter the .u.t-.iM-'d prayer la said,
There tails to Steep most peacefully.
So would I when that Digit, draws nigh,
Which lolls us to the deep repose
That earthly waking never knows,
Uuto the one, great mother Ity.
So folded close to nature's breast,
Not grieving for the day that's spent,
And not in sullen discontent,
Hush'd sort to sleep I fain would rest.
Yea, hush'd to sleep witbout a fear,
Uut knowing that life's work Is done,
The peace of harvest-home Is wou,
1 be calmest time of the long year.
Ilu.h'il soft to sleep, without a sigh.
Forgetting all tho grief and pain -
Whilst list'niiiK to tbe low refrain
Of tbe earth-mother's lullaby.
Thus shall the fading earth then gleam.
As in the vision or the child -
The mother's fare so fair and mild
An angel's glorified doth seem.
Ho, while her bright face o'er me beams,
As she doth ceaseless vigil keep,
Perchance 1 may then drop asleep
E'en as the child to pleasant dreams,
Or, If there be no dreams at all
Home in upon tbat slumber deep,
if on those placid shores of sleep
No gllmm'ring light shall ever fall;
And If that night shall never lift,
If on it ne'er a dawn shall break .
Tbe sleeper from repose to wake.
If through those clouds no light shall rift;
Why, then, what matter even so T
If day will never come again,
It cannot bring us newer pain,
Nor hopes all laid at sunset low.
Nay, even tbus It scemetb best.
Whatever else beyond may he
Through all tbe vast eternity
To be sort- wrapped Ifi blissful rest.
For what more do the weary ask
When near the hours or eventide,
And slumber's gates are opened wide.
Than that shall end the day's hard task?
And unto those on wild wares toss'd,
What matter when the harbor found
Where they lie aucbor'd safe and sound,
All hope to them for aye be lost. ■.
Once more across the deep to sail,
Why should they care again to roam,
Now tbey have gained the baven— home I
Why sbould they tempt the sea and gale?
Nay, but they deem themselves most blest, .
Escaping from the stormgod's ire,
From all the many peril, dire,
If tbey at last find safe tbeir rest.
_-___ _TT-sr-i-lass_T-.il I-i ill _■« ________________
1 Sailors on life's tempestuous sea. . -
The port once reached, why should we mind |
If all our dangers left behind.
Our boats lie moor'd eternally,
For wind and tide are cruel foes, .
- They drift as ceaseless to and fro
And drive us where we would not go— .
Unto strange lands that no one knows.
And if we wake from sleep no more,
In Lethe's stream we sure shall Hud
1 ■ .:.!'.. s. and leave behind
All things that vexed our spirits sore. . ,' .
The poppy wreath and lotus crown
Will bind with drowsy spell the brain,
' And shut out all the thoughts of pain,
In vain shall fate upon us frown.
- Nor will we weep more bitter tears.
I* or sorrow for the young hopes lost.
Or for the bright dreams marr'd and cross'd,
Naught shall we know of griefs or fears.
Yea. when the shadows nearer creep f_ "**!
That in their folds the day shall hide, "
"W know whatever else betide
"We shail full calmly, sweetly sleep.
So let all till, replnings erase.
And let Us go unto our rest
As cradled on the mother's breast.
And fall asleep in perfect peace.
San -.ai-fsco, June, 18S0, I Sia.si.v Schmidt.
The beautiful, blushing morttlug
Had pushed back the curtain of pray ;
Her smile—the warm, golden sunshine-—
Had driven tbe shadows away.
All tin' glad, green earth lay smiling
Iv the dawn of the dear Kastcr day. . •
Like a rainbow that comes at sunset
Aud tells us the storm will cease.
After long, weary hours of watching,
Like a whisper of hope and release,
So the radiant roseti__;ht of Easter
Brings a beautiful promise of peace.
1 had gathered my own Master offering
To place In Ills temple so fair.
But humble it seemed, and so worthless
beside the rich offerings there;
•Twas only a handful of pansies—
lure pansies— white, fragrant and rare,
I bad paused In the grand cburcb doorway;
The music slide out through the gloom;
The altar was filled with white lilies
Aud roses in sweet, snowy bloom,
And beautiful hyacinths, tilling
"Witb fragrance the shadowy room.
And amid the**- beautiful blossoms
My flowers, an noticed, would fail:
My pansies, with blue eyes so pleading,
How simple tbey seemed, aud how small;
Hut Ills eyes could see, and Be will know
For Him l had gathered my all.
So I forced back the tears, and prayed softly
BTbat His blessing might not be denied,,
ben I beard a suit step on the carpet.
And a young girl stood close by my side,
I shall never forget her white features
And her dark eyes so tempted and tried.
•'White pansies," she whispered, her hand 1
X" So sweet and so pure, like the snow;
They are dearer to me than all others.
1 loved them so once— lot. ago '*—
The voice was so weary and pleading,
The words came so sadly and slow
That my heart overflowed with deep pity.
And 1 placed the fair flowers In her hand.
"God -cut them," 1 whispered, " 'tis Easter;
His love and his peace till the hind;
Come to him." Theu 1 * silence together
We walked In bis temple so giand.
Then all through the sweet, sacred service
She knelt ln the light alone,
And when the last anthem was finished
She lifted her face to my owu.
The dark ayes were tear, ul and earnest,
'ihe passion bad gone from her tone.
" The pansie. have saved me," she whispered,
•'With their beauty and rag ran so rare;
I loved them— they only could comfort,
Thty brought me bright hope for despair;
They taught me the sweet KaMer lesson-
He has heard ami will answer my prayer."
I knelt all alone, glad and grateful.
In the i] met and peace of that hour,
For I knew He had blessed my sweet blossoms
With some wonderful, magical power;
And 1 silently thanked my dear rather
For my beautiful Easter flower.
Alice E. Stoke.
Hartiiuburff, Lewis Vovnty, JV. Y.
GOING WITH 'IHE TIDE.
Softly the shadows fall and grow.
Softly her breath come, I .out and slow.
And as we sit and watch In vain,
Watch for a motion, a moan of pain.
Stealthily fears upon us creep;
She may never waken again Iron: sleep,
And we love ber so!
Softly the lint o'er tbe bleak moor blows.
Softly and surely the ebb-tide Hows.
And as we bear Its echoed sob.
Like grim old ocean's slim heart throb,
We shuddering think, by her still bedsldgk
Perhaps she ls going v. . : 1 1 the tide,
vju.l only kuows.
Softly the dark clouds gather and lower.
Softly the night goes hour by hour,
And as the time drill., slow ly along
We silently pray, yet it may be wrong,
"Oh God who iriveth take not away.
Spare her to look on another day,
Our lair, frail flower."
Softly the dawn comes, dim and gray.
Softly our hopes return with ttie day.
And as it conies we trembling think:
'las::. a fearful pause by Styx's brink.
Pray Uod it is o'er and our tears were vain,
fray U.i.l that the sua may be bright again
And -:..,. . Il.e away.
Softly, yet slowly day's doors swing wide,
Softly, yet lingering the shadows glide.
But as they go we mark lv fear
That her race looks strange, nay, the light's not clear;
Yet surely, ah, hush; while we watched In the night
The angel .came from the realms of light
And— she went with the tide.
Millie Cli ton.
San sTrLxnetseo, June, 1893.
*' -JAM Ya**
In memory of ]:. A. 11.
*' Put cli, why dots* thou not stay here below
To bless us with thy heaven-loved Innocence 1"*
" .she only stayed a little whilo!"
Yet baby's eyes and baby's smile.
From baby's lips rose-red and sweet.
And baby's restless hands and feet,
And baby's crown of flossy hair,
And baby's little forehead fair,
And baby's little crooked words
Like notes of merry, chirping birds;
And baby's little Agora— all
Arc mi'in'rles sweet they'll e'er recall.
" .She only stayed a little while!"
For passed from earth Is baby's smile.
Now baby's feet tread heavenly lands.
Ami baby's little rosy bands
Gather tbe buds of Paradise,
Ami baby's lovely, trusting eyes
Look upon angel faces fair:
And angels smooth her silken hair.
And teach tier little lisping tongue
Songs tliat no mortal voice has sung.
Yet, though sbe stayed a Utile while.
The mot hi 'II say: "Jly baby's smile
Can 1 forget ? Or little form,
which, like some snow-flake in a storm,
Upon a black and angry sea,
Faded from sight of earth and me
Ob, God ! 1 tl lank thee that no pain.
Or death, or sin can entrance gain
To that bright home beyond the bars
Of earth; beyond thy burning stars,
Where bloom unfailing asphodels,
Since there my baby's spirit dwells."
Alameda, Vol., June S3, IS:-/. Akelxh,
Oh, happy, dreaming, sunny day,
(Hi, Palmy, playful summer wind.
Fan my . un-flushed cheek and blow away
Each tiresome thought er heartfolt care. .
Let every fragrant flower-scented breath
Carry far. far out to the .*.»**
Away, as thistledown, light as air
The everyday frets and vexations of mind.
Leaving unly restful thoughts behind.
Why was It given mini to know tbo sting
Of ceaseless thought ana the keen rush of pain,
To live each vanished hour In memory o'er and o'er
To lire In dreams the days that hare past.
To waken and find them but dreams at last?
The wind-tossed swaying willow..,
The twittering wild birds, the gray seagulls soaring
The rolling, tumbling, dashing billows,
Tho black and golden honey bee droning nigh,
The Indolent cuttle on the green slope of the bills,
The musical ripple and babble of counties, rills,
AU s| eak In volumes, though wordless,
That nature was meant to be .free and gay.
Man alone worries and fumes through life's short
And in gaining that which was deemed the best
Has forgotten how to live and the way to rest.
—f__B "IS-llt lII.A-B-.E,"
Hal/moon Hat/, June, 1&90.
THE RACE -HOBIa-M SETTIaKaO,
My ancestors came from " Ole Vlrglny,"
I nebber was dar, you sco ;
In those times cullud folks was slaves,
. Now we'se uiassas I be I be ! be I
I'm a lian'-niii cullud boy-
Walter In the Bon-ton Cafe;
When gem'uns want more colly
I'se den sure to look far away.
Lady axe " Some cake, please,"
Nother, " Please bring some tea."
Tney used to boss us and whip us—
We'se do bosses now ' be I he
Some wants to scatter us ober de lan
I.lke black pepper ober de bash.
'Spects If m wish we'll trouble.
fcaiiie as de " poor wblte trash."
Want us to live lv Africyl
Den reckon 'twould be rather slow.
No ! we'se 'Merican citizens,
An' wo don't propose to go. ::
; The Beautiful Summer Toilet's
The "Newest Notions— Pretty am for Pretty
Gir'._— Laces and Neckwear— "Women Make
an! Keep Themselves Charming',
Written Tor Tux Sun-da y Cai.i.
PT%ITE sprig of mountain laurel or the
t'l'vi bunch uf daisies is no longer thrust
tUfi? through the sash or worn in the bod
ice folds. It is pinned into the breast-pocket
of the jacket and has ousted the handker
chief from this position. Such being the
case, the handkerchief may return, it is to
be hoped, to its natuial uses. At present it is
obviously intended for ornament only. I
saw some yesterday made of the most deli
cate shades of surah silk and edged with
the daintiest lace Imaginable. To allow
such treasures to fall iuto the clutches of
the everyday laundress would be the ruin of
them. There was one of white silk gauze em
broidered with sprigs of ivy and blue berries.
Another was of white silk embroidered
in Japanese style and buttonholed in
scallops at the edges. Others were in blue
and red checked silk with red-spotted hems
two inches wide. There were others of
bright scarlet and rose-colored and tur
quoise-hucd mull; these 1 confess to having
found most startling. Less pretentious
were those of lavender and mauve batiste
or the dark-red handkerchiefs finished with
drawn work, chain stitch and embroidery.
Decidedly an innovation was a white hand
kerchief edged with a narrow blue iitrlpe
and having fur its chief decoration a at
teau landscape, hand-painted— to what is a
world that hand-paints its handkerchiefs
coming? Instead of "see Paris and die," a
little woman was remarking yesterday,
"see a hand-painted apron aDd live to laugh
at such absurdities." Sometimes 1 think
that people who aspire to use paint-brushes
ought to be subjected to civil service exami
> C£^fc5J£i > uy^'
Cheek by jowl with the painted handker
chief was oue of dead black in ill I, not black
bordered nor with a black crest or mono
gram, but in solid color to go with some
extreme faddist's mourning costume.
Dora Wheeler, whom we hope Is not lost
to art, though she has committed matri
mony, keeps herself supplied with tiny
handkerchiefs of the filmiest white* cam
bric, which are powdered over with the
most charming little flowers in natural col
ors, worked niter the Associated Artists'
designs. With her fresh gingham frocks
for summer, she uses tine squares of lilac
cambric on handkerchiefs in pale pink or
mauve. These are einbroieered in flax
thread, sometimes in white and sometimes
in colors. One rather eccentric young
woman who will have millions when she
marries contents herself with nothing less
diaphanous for wear with her evening cos
tumes than handkerchiefs of butter-colored
mousseline de sole. i_t day use when
choosing a spot for her monogram she
doesn't favor either the middle of her
niouchoir or Its corner, but has a little loz
enge of mull stitched on somewhere along
the border and on this is worked tbe highly
It takes no end ot grace and courage to
manage the huge square of white linen
affected by the bachelor girl when she
steps forth in her stiff shirt bosom. The
tenth girl shakes oue out with a neat little
flourish that is all piauancy; the other
nine Impress the sympathetic beholder with
the notion tliat they went by accident to a
big brother's bureau drawer.
Some charming novelties in gloves from
Paris have appeared. They have about
them the air of the boulevard. Some are
mauve-colored, some rose, some pale green,
faint yellow, suggestive blue. They are
niarvelously dainty and extremely unlit for
the purpose to which the unthinking put
them— to wit, street wear.
A pretty girl wore white suede gloves in
the park yesterday, with a white frock.
"Wheu did you get your appointment?"
asked a cousin from Yale who is a good
deal of a tease.
"What appointment?" returned the girl
suspiciously, scenting a joke of some de
"Why, haven't they been adopting Isa
bella Beecher Hooker's suggestion and fit
ling out the city with policewomen?"
May the scoffer prevail, for the woman
who "will wear white gloves should have
answered "Yes," when the census enumer
ator queried, "Are you an idiot?"
At a little dance at the opening of a fine
oil couutry house the other evening I noted
as well as I was aide for the boat lliat some
of the dressiest girls present were wearing,
with their white and gauzy costumes, black
— mark me, black — kid gloves so long that
they fairly came up on the shoulders.
Isn't it funny how the glove-makers con
tinue, always to get in the same average
quantity of material? Now that we are
wearing long sleeves with demi-toilet, we
•W^ orf**tf _^y\
yiut\. ' ' ■*'" t '3? n^
L- cc Frills and Bodice Fixings.
cut down one set of cloves to one or two
buttons only to niece on the extra kid when
we come to another set anpropriated to full
dress, that is, to bare necks with no sleeves
Miss Bertha Robinson, the tennis cham
pion, tells me that the newest gloves for the
country are also the best she has ever seen.
The kid lias a Russian finish which prevents
it from cracking or stiffening after being
wet, so that it can be caught in picnic
thunder-showers without damage for a
whole season. Widely removed from
thoughts of such homely utilities are the
latest evening gloves, which are of pale
fawn, cafe nu lnit, mushroom, a delicate
greenish blue, lilac and mauve suede, with
the tops made of alternate rows of kid and
Valenciennes. Such gloves are marked
$1483. The wonder is they don't make it
The newest niousquet lires have gussets be
tween the lingers, but there is no gusset be
tween the forefinger and the thumb. , For
street-wear light dressed kids have lapped
seams and rows of stitching on the hack
which are less pronounced than last winter's
specimens. For carriage wear aud calling
the ugly pearl-gray is again in vogue, and
wo. who feel very sure of themselves
and their social position wear gloves stitched
with crimson or black or white on green,
mauve on gray— 'anything lo get a sharp con
trast of tones, in spite of the charms of
these French novelties it Is not likely that
they will displace undressed tan-colored kid
in its scores of shades for either the street or
evening toilet ot the conservative woman.
The new silk gloves come in every delicate
shade that is possible to dress fabrics, and
promise to redeem their past reputation by
wearing extremely well. A lady was wear
ing some this morning in lilac stitched with
black. They have re-enforced tinger-tips,
against the raids of the long- pointed, fash
The two colors moat used in stockings
are black and silver; the one for useful
wear, the other for dress occasions, match
ing the gray silk and kid shoes which have
such a summer vogue. Manufacturers
seem to think— perhaps with some show of
reason— that there's no limit to a woman's
folly, provided she has money and they
show her something new. At any rate
they are setting insertions of Yalenclennos
and Malines lace In stockings, and there's
no doubt that girls wbo dress not wisely
but too well will be captivated by such
costly tawdriness. It's amusing to note the
struggles of the Jenness Miller proselytes
with their hose. They wear, according, to
orders, spiral wire garters below the knees,
and then, the modern stocking having a
considerable length of - leg, they face the
necessity of knotting, in addition, ribbons
above the knees. . There seems to be no so
lution of the garter question, unless in des
peration one adopts, as many women have,
stockings that join at the top, button about
the waist and go commonly by another
The new fans are as pretty as the girls
for whom they are made. Sometimes they
have carved ivory sticks and gauze covers,
with lightly gathered gauze frills edging
tbe staves. Sometimes the gauze is of a
faint blue color and over this are set
crinkled rose petals, forming one great
pink or pale yellow rose. For the Empire
dresses there are rococo fans or young girls
use those composed of narrow ribbons in
tersecting tbe fretted staves. It is con
sidered good usage to to use gauze and lace
fans only in the ball-room. For the theater
painted silk is preferable. The feather fan
increases in stature. Little Mattie Sheri
dan's is almost tall enough to act as ber
Standing frills of lace are substituted for
the high collar, or If one is completely
emancipated there are finger-wide ruffles of
mousseline de soie to be turned back from
the open throat, or there are deep collarettes
£^.^|i<|_ )r Nn.
j— in, out LaeeS.
of silk muslin to be rlaited full about the
neck and tied with a ribbon under the chin.
For gingham and pink dresses, turned over
collars are among the novelties, in white
batiste or in rose, ecru or pale blue lawn.
These are sometimes mounted on chemi
settes, though not always. Narrow collar
ettes are rather comical. They show double
meltings of fringed silk tied in front with
ribbous. Big throat bows of black gauze
tire among the prettiest of the neck fixing.
Vandyke points of white lace are attractive,
set over white crepe plaited in ruffles. Lace
collars and cuffs come in pretty sets and
And many admirers. Linen collars have
the corners turned down slightly and the
cuffs are rounded off on their upper edges.
Striped cuffs share their empire with plain
white ones. The daintiest dress accessories
observable tire the Venetian scarfs of soft
crepe de chine to be crossed on the breast
and passed under the arms. Women who
go shopping these hot June days are buy
ing "shoulder shawls," which are squares
of cream-colored or white India silk, em
broidered all over with flower sprays Sand
edged with a deep fringe. These are folded
as a Quakeress folds her kerchief and worn
at twilight on tho cottage veranda or hotel
piazza when the wind begins to turn chill.
The simplest way to finish the neck of a
gown if one does not care to spend much
money is to buy some of the suit inex
pensive! Oriental lace, gather it full and let
it fall over in a frill. ellex usbou...
NEXT POET -LAUREATE.
An Interesting Item for All the
1 6'T,)110 will succeed Lord Tennyson in
\f»f " ie '® cc cI Poet-laureate is a
>l«;__l_.^ question which the English peri
odical press is always discussing. It is
generally acknowledged that it would be
better to abolish the oflice altogether than
to confer it, as it was often conferred in
the last century, upon men possessed of no
pronounced and enduring claims to lyrical
distinction. Tennyson himself received,
as lie has told us, "this laurel greener from
the brows of him who uttered nothing
base"— meaning, of course, from William
The next wearer of the laurel wreath
should, like his last two predecessors, sat
isfy not merely the whim of Queen Vic
toria, but the. taste and judgment of the
English-speaking world. There ia reason
tr. fear, however, that the choi of her
Majesty will nol fall ou either of the names
to which the suffrages of the cultivated pub
lic would most willingly award the crown.
Of living English poets, Swinburne and
William Morris (the author of "Jason." the
"Earthly Paradise" and "Sigurd, the Ve
sung"), unquestionably stand, next to Ten
nyson, re-eminent. But Morris has ruined
his chances of the laureate— lip by becoming
a rank and aggressive socialist, and Swin
burne's republicanism is of two sanguinary
a hue to make hi in acceptable to sovereigns.
We can scarcely imagine the eulogist of
Mazzinl celebrating the Queen's birthday,
and he seems to have proclaimed before
hand his opinion that for him the duties of
a laureate would be irksome and incongru
ous, lie has said in so many words:
1 bave no spirit of skill with equal lhii_er_
At sign to sharpen or to slacken strings;
I keep no time of soug with gold-perched singers
And chirp of linnets on tho wrists of klus.s.
But because the author of " Erectheus"
and "Bothwell" and "Songs Before Sun
rise" would, perhaps, refuse the laureate
ship is no reason why it should not be of
fered to him in recognition of his rare gift
of melody. The prevailing opinion in Lou
don, however, is that Tennyson's successor
will be neither Swinburne nor William Mor
ris, but another Morris, one Lewis by name,
who has scarcely been heard of on this side
of the Atlantic. It is said in England of his
pvin. iu.il work, "The Epic of Hades," that
a man who should oiler to bet that he could
read it through would find hundreds of
takers. We doubt if there are ten cul
tivated Americans who can quote from the
poem just named. The author, neverthe
less, is reported to be the Queen's favorite
and to have been already singled out by
her as the next poet-laureate.— i". Ledger.
AX."- HORSE DA U UET.
How. Ihe li . siin- ii i -li Auitior I.. in
_ lenced in ilie World.
" — f™!. HE following incidents in the career
Cl *? °' Alphonse Daudet are related in
J'i^ Harper's Magazine by 11. H. Doyson,
who enjoys the privilege of a personal ac
quaintance with the distinguished French
**_\lpbonse Daudet, a little delicate man,
with dork beard parted at the chin, heavy
ringlets like a lion's mane surrounding his
head, soft dreamy eyes, and extremely ro
bust chest— such is be. When a boy his
father failed, and for some time Alphonse
lived with him in penury at Lyons. But nn
elder brother procured a position in a glass
store at Paris, and Alphonse went to live
with him. They took the cheapest lodgings
in the city, for money was exceedingly
scarce. In fact Hamlet traveled to Fail's
in a freight-car, wearing a pair of rubber
hoots, inside of which were neither slippers
or stockings. The journey occupied two
days, ami the boy did not taste food during
the whole time. Finally, when I'aris was
reached, he was nearly frozen, as well as
starved. There they dwelt, far up in the
attic of a building six stories in height.
"But neither of the brothers lust heart.
Both bad an abounding faith that the
younger possessed genius. One day a stray
volume of Daudet 's poems found its way
into the Tuileries. The Empress Eugenic
was delighted with it, and exclaimed to her
brother-in-law, 'Can't we do something for
the boy who wrote these?' The Duke re
plied, 'We cau do everything for him If
your Majesty so desires.' 'Then find out
t.iiiin and offer assistance!' she cried.
"The next day Alphonse looked down
from his attic window in surprise to see a
great carriage, bearing the royal coat
anns, stop before the door. In a moment
a. huge, impressive, dignified, liveried
lackey came ponderously creaking up the
stairs. As he knocked heavily on the door
Daudet reeled forward half in a faint
What could it mean? What would happen?
Nothing, the lackey said, except the Duke
sent his card to M. Daudet, who would
please call upon the Duke one ; week from
"Ah, what preparations were made tor
that visit! Surely Daudet could not co to
the palace in rags and tatters, so he
searched the clothing-stores of all Paris,
trying to hire a dress-suit, but owing to his
peculiar physique none could be found.
After many trials lie succeeded in getting
hold of a tailor who made htm a suit on
the strength of the Duke's card— for Daudet
bad no money to pay for and on the ap
pointed day he went to the palace. A score
ol others were present, but he waited his
turn, and it came. He was ushered in to
where the Duke sat.
'"Can you write?' 'Yes, sir,' replied
Daudet. 'Very good; I want a secretary;
pay 6000 francs. Good-morning.' The boy
was nearly overcome. He had never im
agined that any one was paid that much a
year— about ■ $1000. But he suddenly re
membered that be differed in politics from
the Duke, and drawing himself up. an
nounced the fact. Instead of being deeply
moved by this heroic course, the Duke said,
'Oh, go get your hair cut. 1 don't care any
thing about your political beliefs.' "
Its Origin Lost in the Darkness
of Past Ages.
Some of the Earliest Thimb'.es That Ear*
Been Discovered — Soma That Bate
Back to the Fourteenth Century.
LIKE the origin of
many, useful inventions
which is lost in the dark
ness of past ages, writes
a contributor to an East
ern journal, the history
._ a _.. _.„..,..., of the thimble is shrouded
Fourteenth Century . _. 7,
Thimble, in uncertainty. The first
record of it is found In the twelfth century.
It is very brief, mentioning only its name.
At that time liv St. Ilildegard, a woman
highly regarded for not only her piety, but
also her extraordinary learning. Oue of
her writings contains a combination of 900
words translated into a strange unknown
language, which to-day is re^atded as the
first attempt ever made to establish the lan
guage of the world, or a universal language.
Among these words is found "fingerhuth"
(thimble), called "ziriskanz" in this pe
culiar translation. This group of words
mentions many articles of daily use, so that
it is proper to infer that the thimble was
well known to the twelfth century.
The ladies of that age, upon whose tomb
stones the image of a pair of scissors was
engraved, must have been exceedingly in
dustrious. Tin., custom was prevalent
mostly in England, and to tills emblem of
/ 1 I g< fti f> e» o Q v & g? cja *fffjffij
'/'//>'■.; it, | * p:JSS
Thimble of the Tailors' Guild of Kuernberg.
womanly diligence should have been added
the thimble, in order to transmit to pos
terity its earliest shape. However, it is
reasonable to presume that it was the
same as that of the bronze-cast thimble
which is preserved in the museum at
Darmstadt. This thimble was found in
1848, during excavations made along the
highway to the castle of Tannenberg.
This castle had been destroyed in 1339 by
reason ot the depredations of the Knights
of Tannenberg, and it was never rebuilt.
It is evident that the thimble of those
days was not unlike in form to the thim
ble of modern times.
The city of Nuernberg, with its clever
artisans, was the principal manufacturing
place of the thimble, Its manufacturers,
called "finger-hue (thimble-makers),
are mentioned for the first time in lb-,
without, however, forming a guild at that
time. in 1631 they appear in history as an
incorporated trade, which in 1537 received
In a boils written in 1563 there is the il
lustration of a thimble by Jost Am
man, the most fertile German artist of the
second half of the sixteenth century. He
developed great renown in illustrating all
kinds if works of various contents.
While quite a number of tbe free cities
of Germany enjoyed a democratic form of
government^ Nuernberg was under an aris
tocratic regime, which allowed the trades
no independence whatever, but restricted
thorn to the smallest details. John Endt
ner, for instance, a thimble-maker of
those days, constructed a turning-wheel to
aid him in the making of thimbles. This
he was by penalty prohibited to use "be
cause it was of advantage to him and to tbe
disadvantage of other makers."
The thimble, of which a sketch is pre
sented, and which is in the Museum of Nu
ernberg, evidently originated in a Nuern-
" *^tS3& ~"^~~
limbic Ship. From a sketch hy J>.sl Amman, lid
berg factory. It is narrow and pointed,
like most articles of that period not with
out ornamentation, and embellished with
an adage. Below tiie little holes is found
a row of various round impressions, rep
resenting stars, eagles, lilies, animals, etc.,
and below them the inscription:
Wen Hot wll
So ist mem Zlt.
Together with the date of the year 1_
Each letter is stamped on separately, not
very regularly, and with different-sized
In this same museum is pre'erved another
thimble from the sixteenth century, but of
dimensions — undoubtedly the largest in
existence— more suitable for the finger of a
giant; i. c., a beautifully chased and em
bossed drinking cup 'of silver and gold, in
the shape of a large thimble resting upon a
hoop. The inscription around the rim in
dicates that it was donated iv 1686 to the
guild of tailors by its members. On the lid
stands a genii, an immense shear in one
hand, nnd, in the other, a needle represent
ing a lance.
Beside this giant thimble there were oth
ers of ordinary size, made of precious met
als, which jewelers in those days got for
rich and distinguished gentlemen to give to
a lovely sweetheart or a charming wife.
Johann Theodore de liry of Frankfort
(1561-16-.), the most famous engraver on
copper of bis days, prepared, among other
I magnificent sketches for jeweler's work, a
, sheet of exquisite designs for thimbles,
1 richly decorated with designs from mythol
i ogy. The top of these thimbles is adorned
with a cupid or genii, sur
rounded with the Inscrip
tion, "Force d'Ainour vis
Aoris," "La l'ulssance
d 'Amour" (the power of
love). Many of these
costly trinkets are pre
served in various mu
seums down to the present
day. Some which consist ,
of several parts are par-»
tictiiarly interesting to
look nt; they are adorned
A thimble of USS.
with portraits and coats of arms and oc
cupied in those days the place of lockets
Some thimbles were made with a lining
Inside, which was perfectly smooth, over
which the upper decorated part fitted snug
ly. Outside of the cities of Nuernberg,
Cologne and in some places in Holland, tbe
trade of thimble-making is rarely followed.
The present manufacture of the thimble ls
altogether different, It is made of steel or
silver, mostly the former, by machinery,
and in large quantities, almost entirely
A Lover of Nature.
A Brooklyn writer who does not need to
leave her pretty home to attend to her pen
work is Mrs. Olive Thome Miller. Shenas
a specialty, and a very unique one—descrip
tions of birds and their habits. Some of
her books are "Bird Ways" and "In Nest
ing Time." It is not necessary for Mrs.
Miller to so out into woods and fields and
country by ways : to observe : the . peU of
'^^»*S*'fTi*T--IV _ii-El--t -f-li TV^-P-lt-fl ___hl _■ ■'-ii 1 --! I mitt ■ -_a,1.-Ni -fl . .._. ___J__r ___
which she writes. It was, very well for
Thoreau to live in the woods, and Mr. John
Burroughs may and does find it convenient
to lurk about slyly to surprise the shy in
habitants of tree and nest, but Mrs. Miller,
being a woman— and moreover a woman
with a family— could not do that, so she
wisely contrived to bring the birds indoors.
She has a room fitted up exclusively for
her pets, and never were birds better cared
for, according to all accounts. i Here she
can observe and train and experiment. The
results of her observations are jotted down
in blank books, of which there is one tor
each bird, inscribed with its name. Her
articles on this subject are seen in all the
leading magazines, though she does not
confine herself to her specialty— Topeka
Capital. ■■ '
fiN the July number of "Scribner's Magazine"
J./ there Is presented a most luieresllnir article
1} on "Tbe Suburban. House," .written by
'■___(. Bruce Price, a gentleman tboioughly con
versant with the subject. The writer describes
all kinds of suburban bouses, and his article Is
Illustrated with a large uumbei of sketches of
such bouses in various Stales of the Union. In
the same number there is also a very Instructive
article on. "Bird Cradles," which Is descriptive
of the many nests built by birds.
An article on "Texan Types and Contrasts,"
by Lee 0. Darby, with seventeen Illustrations by
Frederic Remington, arrears In the July number
of "Harper's Magazine." Mis. Uaiby's writings
on historical subjects have recently won honor
able recognition both In this country and abroad.
Her paper entitled •' The City of a Ii luce," pub
lished some two years ago tv the .Magazine or
American History" and dealing with facts hith
erto unknown, gained for her the election as
Fellow of the American Historical Association.
Auother of her historical articles was translated
lmo Spanish aud published in certain Soutb
American periodicals. Mrs. Harby Is also well
known as a contributor to various New York
A new monthly journal bus made its ap
pearance. It ii called " The tidier," pub
lished by George ¥. Kelly & Co. of New
York. This peiiodlcal will make a spe
cially of lilnb-clas*. American etchings,
printed in eUltion-de-Inxe style on soil Ja
panese paper mounted at the four corners and
enclosed In a mat, ready tor framing. "The
Etchei" is the Bnt periodical to issue prints in
this luxurious form, a form usually confined to
cosily art portfolios. The size, twelve by six
teen inches, allows a generous size of plate and
margin. Besides the monthly plate, euro mini
ber will have some letter-press of critical and
practical value on topics connected with etch
ings and etchers.
The Open Court Publishing Company of Chi
cago li.is just issued .1 book of Interest to labor
ing people, It ts entitled "Wheelbarrow," and
consists of a series of articles and discussions
on the labor question. The writer In a man who
worked for years as an unskilled laborer, and
who with pickax, shovel aim a wheelbarrow
bellied to lay i lie foundations of several rail
roads of this country. The motive of his writ
ings is lo lift the average man to a higher exist
ence by leaching now to work and bow to rise
to an amelioration of his condition. He writes
In. the standpoint of a man of practical life.
"The Writer,'* published by William It. Hills
of Boston, a magazine for the use of writers for
the pi ess, is one of Ihe most valuable assistants
to those who write for newspapers and maga
zines, It contains matters of the inmost Impor
tance io Ihose who wish to be Informed as to how
to prepaie copy, lias useful bints in relation to
literary matters, and is equal to the best teacher
that can be procured. Every pace contains
something that is Useful ami instructive tv those
engaged in liieiaiy pursuits, even furnlshlug
Ideas to those who aie veterans In Ilie business.
Laird & Lee ol Chicago have published as an
addition to Ibe " Library ot Choice Fiction," a
five hundred and fifty page novel, entitled "Tim
Lost Witness, or The Mystery ol Leah Paget.",
written by Lawieuce L. Lynch of the secret Serv
ice. It Is a story of the sensational order
about the mysterious disappearance of a
wealthy young belresi and Hie woik of an acute
retainer la untangling the web. it Is full of
startling situations and ihe plot is not unnat
ural. It Is an unusually Interesting book of the
class to which It belongs— lbe detective series.
Among the latest issue- from the pre si of John
W. Lovell ot New Yoik are two additions to the
•' International series." One Is "The Haunted
Fountain" and "ileity's Levenge." two uovels
under one cover. Both aie by Catherine S. Mac
quold. a wilier whose works have atliacieda
great deal of attention and favorable comment
for ti.en style and brilliancy of thought. The
oilier is "A Daughters Sacrlhce," by F. C.
Phillips, otiilior of "As ill a Looking Glass," and
Percy Feudal., auibor of "Sex to the Last." It
is entertaining and is a book lhat will please the
lovers ot woi of fiction.
T. B. Peterson & Brothers of Philadelphia
have just Issued a ii.'-ceut edition of "Can Love
Stn?" by Mark Douglass. it is an original
American novel. Ingeniously framed and wrought
out wuh rugged stieugth, while a .solution to the
problem put forward is deftly brought In at the
close. The hero and heroine aie ideal lovers,
ardent, Impassioned and uiiU.inl.iug. Tlieir love
lite forma tlie staple of the novel, and about it 19
sluing a series of incidents which keep Interest
and expectation constantly on the gui vive.
Street & Smith of New York have issued an
other edition of that Interesting book, *• The Old
Homestead." by Denman Thompson. It Is a
story of clouds and sunshine alternating over a
venerated home; of a grand old mail, holiest and
blunt, who loves bis honor as he loves tils life,
yet buffers the agony of the condemned in learn
ing of the deplorable conduct of a way waul sun:
a sioiy of couutiy Hie, love aud jealousy, with
out an Impure thought, ano witn the healthy
flavor ot the fields In every chapter.
Little, Brown _ Co. of Boston have just issued
"Ihe Blind Musician," translated from the Rus
sian of Vladimir iaoroleiiKO by A line Delano,
and an li.lioduclioii by Geoige Kenuau. li Is a
simple _.:■.. both lv foun and substance, lv
which Ihe author analyzes ibe inner life or ibe
blind with an ingenious and masterly ssiil Kcu
nun in his inn eduction says, "The author seems
to me to represent the must liberal, the moat
progressive and the most sincerely patriotic type
of young i'us-ian manhood."
in the July number of "The Century" Jo Jef
lei sou will have more to say about his famous
play and will tell how be came to have bonce
emit i.t it. in in with the version of Kip Van Win
kle which ls now such a success. In [lie same
11 umber .Miss Harriett W. l'reston, translator ol
"Ailrelo," the l'roveucal poem by Mistral, and a
close student, will present an Interesting article
ou the south of Fiance— Avignon, Nones, Aries
and other places— entitled "A i'loveucal I*ll
The John W. I. '.veil Company of New York
lias stalled a new seiies of works of lie. ton. It
Is the seiies ot " Foreign Literature," under the
editorship of Luminal lio.sse. Among the first
Issued is " In Uod's Way," a novel written by
tbe Norwegian author Bjornstjeiue iisou aud
translated by Elizabeth Carmichael. In this se
ries tbe publishers propose tv lay I ■• f .. c*_ the
readiug public the works of writers of every na
tion, me novel is well wiltleu and Interesting.
A striking portrait of Colonel Daniel Apple
tou of the .V ii. .. iN". V., elected such od July
ll); h last, nrms the frontispiece of the July
number of L'n'.tctl Service, with winch the
touilh volume Is ushered lv. The opening chap
ters of "A History of the Mormon Rebellion,"
by Lieutenant W. K. Hamilton, U. *-. A., form
the leading aiticle. A thoughtful paper, also, is
the one uu " National i/uaid Camps," by Lieu
tenant A. C. Sharp. , 17. IS. A.
The July number of tbe "National Magi —
of Chicago will open with an article entitled
"ilaivaid University and Reform," by Chancel
lor kins of th. National University. The
"Magazine" will also contain other timely arti
cles. Particulars of the recent gilt it twenty
five acies of land to the National University and
of Its proposed new building will be given la
"How au Ocean Steamer Is Managed" is the
subject of an article by W. J. Henderson, which
fo: ms the lilusuated supplement to "Harpers
Young IVofle" for June --till. To most iei sous
contemplating an ocean voyage, as well as to all
young readers, tills article will convey Valuable
information upou a subject not cem*ra:iy well
One ot the daintiest books of the season, in
side and out, is "A Modem .Marriage," by tlie
Marquise Clara Lauza, which the Lovells of New
Villi, nave just Issued in their American Authors'
Series, ibis lain Is keeping Ihe .standard ot ibis
series high, aud the authors 011 the list are
among the most brilliant writers of the day. I
Aniline the noteworthy articles in " Har
pers Bazar" of June -Tin Is a ."Ketch by Mrs.
Helen 11. l>..cku«, I'iesideut of the Vassar
Alumna.*, entitled " Vassar at Twenty-five."
humid .Mo-ell lyiig will contribute to the seiies
of papers on Lxcicis. fur Women, an article
on "Walking," to appear In tbe same uuuiber.
The July number of "St. Nicholas" Is one
thai is brimful of matter of litmus', interest to
young readers. Uue that will engross the atten
tion of the boys Is, "How 10 Sail 11 Heal," by K.
W. Psngborv, Vlce*i*iesideut of the New York
Vaclit-iaciin. Association. A number of Illustra
tions serve to assist the text.
Tbe sixth number of the first volume of " La
Revue Francaise," published in New York and
devoted 10 literature, art aud science, printed iv
tbe Fiencb language. Is a most excellent one,
specially [.refill ed with a view to assist the slu
ocui of the French language. ""-■
ll is announced that cue of the leaders eflhe-
Republican party, whose Identity is concealed,
will contribute an adverse criticism lv the July
uuuiber of the "North Americau Review" ou
the action of Speaker Reed lv Congress.
'1 lie theories of .Major i'owell concerning the
relation of mountain forest to Irrigation in the
arid West, a subject of Importance to people ou
this Coast, are considered In the latest Issue ol
"•..anteii and Foi est."
The New Voik "Ledger" has, since It changed
Its form, made many improvement*, and is now
oue uf n.e most Interesting weeklies published.
At a gypsy camp near Carlisle, 1 _ one of the
party died, and according tothe custom of her
tribe, all her possessions were publicly burned.
A Matter of Interest 1 1 Travelers.
Tourists, emigrants and mariners find that Hot-
tetter's Stomach liltters Is a medicinal safeguard
against unhe.ilthful Influences, tspoil which they can
implicitly rely, tinea it prevents the effects that ao
unhealthy climate, vitiated atmosphere, unaccus-
tomed or unwholesome diet, bad water or uthor
conditions unfavorable to health, would otherwise
produce. On long voyages or Journeys by land in
latitudes adjacent to tbe equator It Is especially
useful as a preventive of the febrile complaints
and disorders or the stomach, liver and bowels,
which are apt to attack Datives of the temperate
tones sojourning or traveling In sucb regions, and is
an excellent protection against the influence of ex-
treme cold, sodden changes of temperature, ex-
posure to damp or extreme fatigue, it not only
prevents Intermittent and remittent feverand other
diseases of a malarial typo, but eradicates them, a
fact which has been notorious for years past in
Uorth and South America, Mexico, the West Indies.
Australia and other countries. 26
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