ooll. Van cleve.
ALBANY,
OREGON.
The Tempest
mud of the Winter night.
Chasing with fierce delight
uow-fiake and withered leaf in eddying ring !
Ben by the fireside warm.
Curtained from theoold and storm;
Ishnddar at the sweep of thy wild wings.
Perchance, like a felon grim.
Thou fleeet through shadows dim,
geared by toy ruthless deed on land and sea;
And on thy rushing course, ,
Unseen yet chainless f oroe,
Tokens of blight and ruin follow thee
The sailor boy on high,
Becking 'twixt sea and sky. . '
Swept Bke feather from the straining mast; .
The wrecks that line the strand, .
Their freight strewn on the sand.
Their perished crews by ocean shoreward cast.
Booh art thou, viewless power!
. Changing from boar to hour ;
How bearing life, now death, on thy swift way;
Oh thou capricious heart!
See here thy oounterpart '
Angel or fiend, as love er hate holds swav.
w. w." w.
ST LITTLE GENTLEMAN.
BT MBS. MARY CHAKDUEB MOUXiON.
For a year the great house rising on
the summit of Prospect Hill had been
an object of interest and observation,
and a chief subject for talk to the quiet
country neighborhood surrounding it.
Hillsdale was an old town a still,
steady-going farming place where the
young men ploughed the unwilling
fields, and ootxed reluctant crops out
of the hard-hearted-New England soil,
as fathers and grandfathers had done
before them." But in all the genera
tions since the town was settled, no
one had ever thought of building
nospeet Hill. Xthad been used as a
pasture-ground until now, when a man
from Boston had bought it, and had had
a road made to its top, and a house
built on its very brow.
This house was a wonder of architect
- oral beauty.
" With its nattlementB high in the hush of the
air,
And the turrets thereon.'"
It was built of a kind of mixed stone:
so that its variegated . coloring had an
air of brightness and gayety very un
usual. The farmers about exercised in
mind over the amount of ox flesh and
patience required to drag stone enough
for the great building up the high hill;
but that did not trouble the architect,
who gave his orders composedly, and
went on with his business, quite un
heeding comment. ; Xhe house, itseii,
puzzled the neighbors, with its superb
arched dining hall, its lovely frescoed
drawing room, its wide passages, its lit
tle music room, and its great library all
lined , with carven oak. Then, why
there should be so many chambers, un
less, indeed, Mr. Shaftsbury had a very
large family.
But it was when the furniture began
to come in that wonder reached its
height. Such plenishings had never
been seen before in Hillsdale. The ear
pet on the drawing-room -must-have
been woven in some loom of unheard-of
size; for it seemed to be all In one piece;
with medallion in the centre, a border
around the edge, and all over its soft
ya1va intst -vhiAri -vonr feet Rflnlc as.
into woodland moss the daintiest flow
ers that ever grew. Marble statues
gleamed in front of the great mirrors;
and pictures of lovely landscapes, and
radiant sunsets; and handsome men and
fair women hung upon the walls. ' In
the musio-room were placed a grand
piano, a harp and a guitar. The shelves
which ran around the library on all
sides, half wav from floor to ceiling,
were filled with substantially bound
books; and above them were busts of
1 great men by whom immortal words
had been written. It was a dream of
beauty all throughand when it was
finished, and a troop of servants, men
and women, came to make all things
readv. expectation reached its height.
. A Presidential progress could hardly
have excited more interest than did the
arrival of a quiet, gentlemanly-loooking
man, dressed in gray, with iron-gray
nair and beard, at the little railroad sta
tion, where a carriage had been sent
: down from Prospect Hill to meet him.
I his. of course, was Mr. Shaf tsbury.
Ha was accompanied, in spite of the
" ' many chambers, by a family of only
two a ladv much younger than himself,
dressed with elegant simplicity, with
a face full of all womanly sweetness,
and a boy, about twelve or thirteen, ap
parentlya high bred little-fellow in
his uppearanoe, but somewhat pale and
delicate, and in need of the bracing air
of irosrteet Mill. .' V.-a .--.-.
They drove home in the sunset this
little family of three and looked for
the first time on their new abode. Mr.
Shaftsbury had selected the . location,
and bought the land, somewhat more
, than a year before; and then had put
the whole matter into the hands of a
competent architect, while he took bis
family to Europe, so that the new resi-
- deuce had as entirely the charm of nuv-
- city for him as.fortha others. ,. ,
,. J?or a month alter that he "was to be
-seen busily superintending matters
: ' about his place in the forenoon, while
bis wife and boy sauntered along, never
far away from him, or driving with
them xa the - pleasant May afternoons
always these three only, and always
The' first of June the i summer term of
: tae district school began. It was an
, intense surprise to the scholars to find.
, first of all in his place young Shafts
bury, from the hilL Kobert Shafts
bury, thirteen years old," he replied to
- , the teacher, who ' asked his name and
age. He studied auietlv till
and even then Jingered in his seat, with
evident shyness though he watched the
-' others with a look of interest on his
face. They stood apart, and talked of
.. him among themselves, instead of rush
ing out at once to play, as was their
' wont.
At last, after a good deal of wonder-
, meet and talk, one boy, bolder or more
reckless than the rest, marched up to
" I say Telvet Jacket, how came you
"' hetm t" was bis salutation. " Seems to
1 mejou're too much of a gentleman for
' A slight flush warmed young Shaf ts
tvory's psle cheeks, but he answered,
i wiiu frankness as absolute as his cour-
tirv was perfect : : . - .
T tsave been taught at home, up to
' rwV bet my father wants me to be with
" c ' r boys of my own age ; and he says
btr heard what he said; and
(r,f their ttovisa raaouesa, it m
- "i v- p.t with a certain respect.
.-, the becinningr of the title
: ' itlrT revs Lim, among themselves,
of "little geutleman'- oniy f among
themselves, at first; though afterwards,
when they grew more familiar with
him, they used to address him by it,
more often than by his name. .
XI there haa oeen a pniiosophical ob
server to take note ot it, it would ' have
been curious to watch how unconsciously,
the boys were influenced by nrj little
gentleman how their - maimers " grew
more gentle how they avoided coarse
or unclean or profane words in his
Srosenoe, as if he had been a woman,
e led his classes, . easily, in their
studies. The teacher had never to re
prove him for carelessness in his duties.
or for broken rules. His'tather"' had
said, "A true gentleman belongs every
where:" and he was auietlv Pro vino- it.
The scholars liked him thev could
not neip it, zor his manner was ss oottrte
ous as his nature was unselfish and
kindly; and, yet, in their feelings for
mm mere was a little strain ox envy-
slight disposition to blame him for the
luxury and elegance to which he was
born; and, because of his very courtesy,
to underrate his courage, and the real
raar.iinesa of his character.
But there was one in whose eyes he
was, from first to last, a hero. Jamie
Strong was yet more delicate than
young Shaftsbury. He had something
the matter with one of his. ankles, and
could not join in the rough sports of the
others. Ho was the only son of his
mother, and she was a widow. - Her hus
band and her other three children had
all died of typhoid fever, and been, one
after another, carried out ot tue little,
lonesome cottage at the foot of the hill,
where the sun seldom came, and now
Jamie was the last.
He would never be strong enough to
do hard work. Sowing, ploughing,
mowing, harvesting he could never
manage any of these; so, for his weak
limbs his a nick brain must make up:
and Widow Strong had determined that
he should be a scholar a minister, if it
pleased the Lord to call him to that; if
not, a teacher. i
So she quietly struggled on to keep
him at school, and to earn money to
provide for future years of academy and
college. She sewed, she washed, she
picked berries she did anything by
which she could add a dollar to her
hoard.
Jamie understood and Bhared her am
bition, and studied with might and
main. He was used to harshness and
rudeness from stronger boys, and he
bad grown shy and shrunk into himself .
To him the coming of my little gentle
man was as grace from heaven. Here
was one who never mocked at his fee
bleness, or his poverty who was al
ways kind, always friendly, and who
did many a little thing to make him
happy. Young Shaftsbury on his part
was quick to perceive the tender and
loyal admiration of the other; and
there grew between them the tie of an
interest which had never been put into
words. -
. It had been a damp and strange sum
mer, intensely warm, even in that hilly
region.- It had rained continually, but
the rams, which kept the neids green
and made vegetation so unusually lush
and ripe, had seemed scarcely to cool at
all the fervid heat of the air. Wiseacres
predicted much sickness. Indeed, sev
eral cases of slow fever were in the town
already.
One day my little gentleman looked
about in vain for his friend Jamie, and
finally asked for him anxiously, and
found that the boy was ill of typhoid
fever. At recess he heard the boys
talking of it.
" He 11 never get well, one said. "Xlis
father died just that way, andhis three
brothers. You see it s damp ooto in
that hollow, and the sua hardly ever
touches the house, x heard iJr. Esm
onds say it was ten to one against any
body who was sick there."
When school was out, -KODert Jsnaits-
bury hurried home .He , found his
mother sitting, dressed ail in wmte, in
the music-room, playing a symphony on
the piano, while his father sat a little
distance off. listening with half -closed
eves. He waited until the piece was
over, and then he told his story and
preferred his request. .
The doctor had said it was ten to one
against any one who was sick in that
little damp house in the hollow; and he
wanted Jamie brought , up the hill to
their ,own home. He watched the
faces of his father and mother as he
spoke: and it seemed to him that a re
fusal was hovering upon their lips, and
he said, earnestly
Don't speak, just yet. Remember
that he is his mother's only son, as I am
yours. If I lay sick where there ( was
no hope for me, and some one else
might, perhaps, save me by taking me
in. would you think tney , ought to try
it. or to let me die ?
Mr. Shaitsbary looked into his wuo s
eeS." -.-i-.-.-, .-: Jli , --
Robert . is right," she said, : with
the sudden, sweet . smile which always
seemed to make the day brighter when it
came to her lips. "Xf the poor boy can
be helped by being brought here, we
mustbrinar him.'-', , t -
I will go and see. Mr. Shaftsbury
answered at once. . ,--".
"And I too, papa,? said my little gen
tleman. .-,--... j
''Not you, I think. . I fear contagion
for VOU. ' .i H.i-H'- '-
"1 think there is no danger xor me.
livuur on the .bright ' hill-top. in these
great, airy rooms, -but even if there
wire, I am sure you would let me go
if vou knew how much Jamie loves
"Come then," said . the father quiet
ly. He .had beenall.. his son's hie,
riTparhinc to him of heroism and t self
sacrifice and devotion. He dared .not
interfere with almost : his first opportu
nity for anv real exercise of them. So
the two went down the hill together.
Tf nhanmulfhat thev metDr. Simonds
coming away from , the, . house, and pro-
mo val. It would not do the doctoi? de
clared at once the disease had made
too much progress. To remove him now
would oe more (ungeraoi uwi w
him where he was.v-iyt .'-;J wt"
Then I must, sto and see- him.
Robert said, resolutely. ."Youknowhe
has only his mother, and I must spend
all the time I can spare from school
with him." .
" But I will send an excellent nurse,
my son. Do vou sen thai I can not
have you expose yourself 1" '"
but do not keep me from going. He will
wuv UIUW HIU, U1CBBO, URin
not care for the nurse, and he does care
very much for me. .1 do not believe in
toe danger; and I know how glad he will
sax. Shaftsbury hesitated. ' This boy
tne appia of his eye,- Must he
indeed begin so soon to look danger in
the face, for the sake of others? But
dared he withhold him, when the boy
felt that honor and f duty called ? It
ended by his walking in with him
quietly. ,t --.-t ,-, -,-. ., .
It was something to see how Jamie's
iace ungiiwjneu. xie nsd Deen very
dull and stupid all day, his mother said,
and some of the time his mind had been
wandering. But now a glal, eager
light came into his eyes, and a smile
curved his parched lips. He put oat
his hot juanus.
"Oh ! is it you, my little gentleman?" 1
he said: "I had rather see you than
anything else in the world. ' , j
" Well. then. I will come every dav
as soon as I am through school,? Rob
ert Shaftsbury answered. i
Do you know what you have done?"
his father asked, when, at last, , thev
stood outside the house together.
" Yes, papa, x have promised that
poor, sick, helpless little fellow all the
eomiort x can give mm. j. nave prom
ised to do by him -as I should wsnt him
to do by me if I were Jamie Strong, and
he was xtoDert onaitsbury. r '
Mr. Shaftsbury was silenced. This, in
deed, was a rule of living he had taught.
Should he venture to interfere with its
observance? - :
So my little gentleman had his way.
He took every precaution which his
mother's anxiety suggested, such as cro-
ing home to lunch before he went to the
little cottage where the sick boy lay and
longed for him. But he went regularly.
And no matter how wild - Jamie might
be. bis presence would bring calmness.
The dim eyes would kindle; the poor,
parched lips would smile; and Mrs.
Strong said the visit did Jamie more
good than his medicines.
At school the boys looked upon my
little gentleman with a sort of wonder
ing reverence. They all knew of his
daily visits to the fever-haunted place.
which they themselves shunned, and
thev - marvelled at his courage. This
was the boy they had thought to be
lacking in manliness, because he .was
slight and fair becRuse he was carefully
dressed and tenderly nurtured ! They
said nothinsr. but in a hundi ed subtle
ways they showed their changed estimate.-
- The days went on. and with them
Jamie Strong's life went toward its end.
The doom of his house had come upon
him; and love and prayers and watching
were all, it . seemed, of no avail, one
night the fever reached its crisis, and
the doctor who had watched him
through it, knew that the end was near,
Jamie knew it also. When the morning
dawned he whispered faintly to his
mother: s
" I shall never see another morning,
but oh, if I can onlv live till night, and
see mv little srentleman !"
she proposed to send for mm; out
that was not what the boy wished.
" No." he said feebly. " I want to
see him coming in, at the old time, with
some flowers in his hand, and make
sunshine in a shady place.' Somebody
said that, mother. I forget who: X for
get everything now; but that's what he
does; he makes a sunshine in this snady
place.
A dozen times that day it seemed as
if the breath coming so faintly must be
his last; but he clung to life with
strange, silent tenacity. At last, just a
few moments before it was time for the
accustomed visit, he said
'Kiss me good-oy, mother. I want
to save the rest of my strength for him
She kissed him, with her bitter tears
falling fast. Be put up a hand so thin
that you could almost see through it,
and brushed the tears away.
' Xon t cry, ' he said; '-it hurts me.
Life here was hard, and up above Christ
says it will be all made easy." ;
Then he was silent, and presently Ko
be rt came with a great bunch of white
lilies in his hand. i
'The lilies of heaven!" murmured
Jamie, in a low, strange tone. Then
into his eyes broke once more the light
which never failed to respond to Ro
bert's coming, and a wan smile fluttered
over his hps, as a soul might nutter be
fore it flies away. i
' I am going now, he said, f 1 X wait
ed to say good-by, my little gentleman,
Do you think they are all gentlemen up
there l . ) ,
With this question his life went out.
and voices we ceuld not hear made an
swer.
This was the beginning of Robert
Shaf tsbury's career. No harm came to
him through his presence in the fever
tainted house but he had learned a les
son there. The one thing for which he
has striven in life is to be a gentleman
and his interpretation of that much
abused phrase he finds in the Book
which tells us to do unto '-there as we
would that they should do unto us.
Early Gunpowder Manufacture.
The Waltham Abbey Mills are prob
ably the oldest in Great Britain. - They
must have been established about the
middle of the sixteenth century, for we
know that before that time nearly all
the powder used in Ulngland was un
ported from the Continent.- But in 1561
we hear of John Thonrworth,. of walt
ham, buying, as agent for Queen Eliza
beth, saltpetre, alphur, and staves for
making barrels. In the following cen
tury the parish register shows entries of
deaths resulting from explosions at the
mills: and i uller. who was xtector of
Waltham, alludes, in one ef his rrorks.
to the dangers of the manufacture,' re
marking that the mills were blown up
five times during the sevenyeafs of
his residence in parish. The only
wonder is, that explosions were not far
more frequent in the old factories.
where the elaborate precautions now
adopted were utterly unknown. Pow
der was allowed to accumulate in heaps
on the noor, spirits of - wine Was used
instead of water to moisten the ingre
dients, under the impression that it
made' better and stronger powder, and
the drying process was effected by
heating the : powder on metal plates
over a nre without any means of reorula
ting the temperature. Finally all the
workrooms were" close - together, and
often under a single roof, so that; if the
powder in ' one room exploded, that "in
lie rest would follow, like a boy's train
oi craciierB.- xopittctr ocience moncn
The Tlolet as a Bonapartlst Emblem,
The Sport, speaking of this flower as
the symbol of one of the political par
ties in France, narrates the following
The adoption of the emblem dates from
the first years of the Restoration, and
was due to ah inspiration of Mile. Mara,
the celebrated actress of the Theatre
Fran cais. She was a Bonapartist, and
did not disguise her opinions, so that
shortly before the Hundred Days, while
playing in a new place, she appeared
with a bouquet of those flowers in her
bosom. ; The incident caused great ex
citement in consequence of the recollec
tion attached to the violet, which was
in season when Napoleon returned from
Elba, at the end of March, and the pop
ulation , of Paris at once associated the
flower in the homage with which they
welcomed the return of the exile. The
day after the arrival of the Emperor in
Paris every buttonhole was decked with
it, and ladies wore it in their waist
bands and in their bonnets. ; That cir
cumstance was the starting point of the
political meaning of the violet, but the
bold manifestation of Mile. Mars fixed
the meaning of the eymboL
Frm cop jrrrEs along the line of the
Southern Minnesota Railroad report an
aggregate of between 4,000 and 6,000
acres of wheat sown, , with prospects
that about one quarter more acres will
be sown in these counties than last
year. Winter wheat in the Book River
valley is looking fine, and promises
fine crop.
A PETRIFIED FOREST.
Deacrtptiea mt Owe mf the Wanders of Cali
fornia.
We clip the following from the San
Francuco Chronicle of r the 20th of
March.: '' v- ' - "-:
Among California s most notable won
ders may be : mentioned the petrified
forest, situated in the most romantic
scenery of mountain wilds, about half
way between two celebrated summer re
sorts, mars: west springs, oi dodou
county, and Calistoga Springs, in Napa
county. In speaking of these wonder
ful aPecimensof petrified wood, we fain
would connect them with some myste
rious -dasigna of nature for what pur
pose is left with man i to conjecture.
Here m a mountainous region, wild and
weird, with rugged bluffs of volcanic
formation. : separated by deep "and
gloomy canens, studded with a dense
foliage of modern growth, the tourist
pursues hisxraeven way among the ever-
varying and romantic scenes of a wind-
ing road, cut in the steep and rocky side
of high mountains, between which
Mark West creek wends its way, splash
ing and tumbling over and around the
tigged edge of some immense bowlder
that has- in times past occupied a more
elevated position on the mountain side.
Arriving at the forest, one is sur
prised at its quiet, : or rather spell
bound appearance.- The team is se
cured to a hitching-tree, from an over
hanging branch of which swings a sim
ple board, whereon in plain letters one
may read: "Petrified Forest. O. Ev
ans, Proprietor." On either side of the
way is a neatly-built, whitewashed
cabin, a well, a . hen-coop or two, a
number of specimens of petrified wood,
fragmentary sections of the trunks of
trees now stone. The only living oc
cupants of the place the man Evans,
grave in appearance, quiet, and in good
keeping with his surroundings; o years
of age, yet not to be taken for more
than AO; no sign of gray hairs or of any
decline in his robust person; he has no
family with wnom he shares his soli
tude his only living companions, a
snow-white goat, with long horns and
flowing beard pendant from the chin; a
sedate hound, and a hone so tame as
not caring to move out of the visitors'
way. Here, indeed, little folks may
have a living ideal of what Robinson
Crusoe's existence was. In the recep
tion room, or cabin, one finds a collec
tion of beautiful and rare specimens of
wood turned to stone, some pieces stud
ded with glittering quartz. The furni
ture consists of a bench or two, a chair.
and table, whei eon a register of arrivals
is keot.
Having satisfied our curiosity in look
ing at the specimens, the natural query
asked is, ' Where is the spot that these
are found?" " Come and see," will be
the answer of Mr. Evans, as he leads
the way up the hillside through an arch
ed gateway. We enter, feeling as if we
were treading the cemetery of an ante
diluvian forest, whose stateliest trees
were embalmed to last forever, while
those of smaller growth were allowed
to mix again with mother earth and lose
their identity. What at a little dis
tance is seemingly a tree stamp proves
on examination to be a broken section
of the body of some prostrate pine pet
rified. h.very circle or year s growth is
easily discernible, so that the exact du
ration of the tree's existence may be
determined. Next we view the partial
ly excavated trunk of a large pine, ly
ing in an inclined position. Xtere we
see a mass of soli i stone in the form of
a fallen tree some seven feet in diame
terevery tissue in the bark and knot
plainly indicated, ; as in that of a tree
fallen by 'the woodman's ax, while
around thickly strewn upon the ground
are many fragments, similar to
the chips and broken pieces
of wood that are scattered by the wood
cutter in preparing a tree to be cut into
logs for the mill. Striking the stony
mass before us with a piece of petrified
wood, it gives back a metallic sound,
very different from the dull thud pro
duced by striking a rock against a
wooden log. So are to be seen many
similar trees, as we call these peculiar
rocks, varying only in size and length,
all, however, having the same incline
and general position, viz: north and
south. Occasionally a peculiarity is
noticeable, such as being divided into
sections, of various lengths, ranging
from three to seven feet; yet so slight
are the fissures that separate these sec
tions that at a very short distance they
have the appearance of being one solid
log. Another peculiarity in one tree is
its color, while the general color of the
stone log is a grayish white. This
tree is, to all appearances a tree
of stone coal, and the proprietor as
sures us that it burns equal to the
best quantity of that article. The
largest of - these natural wonders, - as
found so far. measures eleven feet in
diameter, and is excavated to view for
distance of sixty-eight feet, though
doubtless it penetrates the hillside
many feet further. The space within
the enclosure is oleared of underbrush
and -contains very many beautiful shade
trees of living oak, young pines, man-
zanita (now in full bloom), the madro-
na, and several other varieties peculiar
to this locality. Here, indeed, is
field for the geologist; not only in this
particular place, but the whole range of
mountains otters many attractive sub
jects for analysis. . .
- Xteturning to tne cabins we are loth
to leave this enchanted spot, for to an
imaginative mind, awake to nature's
charms, this place, - so diltarent in its
nature from other scenes of interest,
has a most peculiar attraction, so ' silent
and mysterious that it is easy to con
ceive that some mystic spell is holding
these sapless 'j ranks of hardened trees
in its stony embrace until the period of
atonement is completed for - whatsoever
offence nature may have suffered from
this stately forest. , '
Fashions in Gems and Jewelry.
- " The popularity of certain gems is al-
way more or less a matter of caprice.
Diamonds, ' however, . always -rank the
foremost, and are, as a matter of course,
constantly sought for. .Nothing ever
takes the precedence of them. There
s sometimes a change in the manner
of setting them, but that is the only
control fashion has over them. Just
now with them, as indeed with all gems,
the fancy seems to be for plain solid
settings. : Earrings are . worn close to
the ear, even when they are set pendent
fashion. - The newest style of diamond
earrings has a delicate, black enamelled
hoop but a trifle larger than the gem
which hangs inside it Solitaire rings
have still the " crown " Setting, but a
plain, solid band of gold reaches to the
top of the crown, making it - at onee
richer in appearance and mack strong
er. When more than one stone is used
the " marquise,' a long, narrow shape
is most stylish. -r.-, ,;- r ,, .,:,
Ranking in desirability next to the
diamond are the sapphire and emerald,
These are about equal in value, and cost
but little, if any, less than diamonds
themselves. Amethysts still bold their
own, and set with pearls make very
lovely sets. .Now and then one comes
across a carved amethyist, which, of
course, is very old and valuable. It is
rarely that precious stones of anv kind
I are carved now, although this carving
was carried on to some extent ,bv the
ancients, and when, once or twice in a
generation, something of this sort is
stumbled across, a precious relic of an
tiquity, it is certain it will be held most
securely by its fortunate finder. Tur
quoises, though by no means the rage,
as they were two or three seasons since,
are still worn with, certain toilets, and
no brunette cares to give up her gar
nets, even though they are not the x-
iteine moae.
The fancy for stone cameos has 1 arc I
ly increased, and there is nothing that-
is in greater demand. For sets, studs,
rings and sleeve buttons it is much 1
worn, and connoisseurs are as fastidious I
about the carving of their cameos as I
tney are aoous tne painting of a pio-
ture, or tne rnytnmicai perfection of
poem. In looking over the best of the
"""Tr1 lf?CK a, "
Bcar,cltT .f " clent subjects, and the
mo-ern styxe oi the heads. :pe inrpor
ters say, as an explanation of this, that
most of the stone cameo carvers have I
gone from Xtome to Jfans finding a bet-1
ter remuneration for their labors, and I
that they have naturally enough become I
axiBituuseu m wbq- laeas, ana mis i
shows in their work. So now. instead I
iiuw, uiBKiiu i
f mythology, they give
i of tie Jardin Mabille; I
ox uie goaaess oi mytnoii
us tne divinities
in Place of Minerva iwith her hiImet. I
suu ciiimie uLua cresgm-crownea, inerc i
ars piquant grisettes that lure from
wisdom's .ways and flout Jupiter's
daughter to her face, and saucy inter
preters of opera bouffe with ' nothing of
Diana except her relentlessness: Now
and then, one a trifle less susceptible
than the rest gives to the world an ex-
quisitly carved head of Mary Stuart, or
- i . . -. . . .
uu mem .marguerite, iairer even tnen
uoetne dreamed her, and sometimes a
a flower-garlanded Flora with a French
face.
With all these new sub'eots to attract
the workers, it is not strange that the
veritable antiques should increase in
value in proportion to their rarity, and
that even the ugly, Ethiopian-featured
lace of oocrates should be more attract
lve to tne erudite purchaser of cameos
than the most graceful head of ihe pret
tiest French girl of them all. It is like
meeting an old friend in a strange coun
try, to find the beautiful young Augus
tus, the winged Mercury, grape-garland
ed Apollo, wise .Minerva, cold JJian i
even Venus herself in this modern com
pany. Yet now and then one happens
to find them, though they are the rarest
and most costly of any in the jeweller s
show-case,
The setting stone-cameos is plain and
solid, and there is a very noticeable
absence of anything like filagree work.
X'earls aro used largely in connection
with camoes, but these are in sets for
middle-aged ladies and matrons. Young
ladies are supposed to wear the gold
settings exclusively. ' Rings for ladies
and gentlemen are made from stone
camoes; for ladies they are mostly in
"Marquise" shape, with a small full
ength figure of Xerpisichore or Psyche
engraved on them; gentlemen's rings
are larger and usually have a head of
some famous person carved en them.
Among the beads most in favor are
those of -Shakespeare, -Byron and
Mozart. Some of the Byron heads are
singularly perfect.
iilack onyx with gold, diamonds or
pearls is one of the novelties of the sea-
Ion. Although perhaps the combina
tion is not, strictly speaking, quite new,
yet the designs certainly are. One set
that is now on exhibition has a necklace
composed of alternate flat links of onyx
nd gold; tne pendent is in the shape
oi a cross, witn a smaller cross of dia
monds set in the centre; the sleeve but
tons and earrings are composed of cir
cular pieces of onyx with a large soli
taire diamond in each. Another set has
clusters of pearls in place of the dia
monds, and this set comprehends the
brooch as well.
tjorai is sou high in favor, and re
tains its long-continued populari'v.
The rarest and most valuable coral is the
mottled coral, which has nearly the same
enect in red that malachite has in green
and lapis-lazuli in blue. The shading,
however, is not quite so marked, but is
exceedingly delicate and perfectly dis
tinguishable. Owing to the extreme
delicacy of the coraL and the difficulty
r k ,!2
of obtaining a piece entirely free from
imperfections, the mottled coral is not
often seen, and when a set is made from
it it is sure to be quite expensive. Next
in desirability to this is the pink coral.
which is rather rarer than the bright red
coral, and is preferred by most ladies
because it cannot be easily imitated.
Last of all comes the red coral, which
is by far the most common. The carved
coral without setting is the most stylish.
as wen as the most artistic, but some
cameo carved heads, with gold settings
and single roses with leaves of Roman
gold, are also worn to quite a large ex
tent. These latter are much more dur
able, but are by far less lovely.
xn gold ornaments tne newest style is
called the "faceted" work. In this
style the gold is cut into numberless
little faces, or surfaces, perfectly
smooth and highly polished, which
gives it a wonderful brilliancy, so that
at a little distance one is puzzled to
know whether it is diamond, amber or
gold that glistens so. Oue of the most
elegant necklaces that are on exhibition
this season is composed of a string of
large faceted beads, with a cross of the
same attached. Another has alternate
links of flat pierced gold and the
faceted beads. This faceted work has
almost entirely taken the place of the
perforated or pierced gold of last
season, though in brooches and ear
rings both styles are used together.
The most stylish bracelets are plain
gold bands, with a row of faceted work
across the top. The shape of the orna
ments, brooches, earrings and pendants
approaches more than ever the antique,
and much of it seems modeled oh the
Egyptian ornaments. There is abso
lutely nothing in the light filagree
work; everything is solid and snbstan
tial. and suggests endurance,
During the summer there seemed to
be a prospect of necklaces going out of
fashion and becoming one of the things
that were, but all their popularity is re
vived this wint2r,and they are represent
ed in the newest and most unique de
signs. -The heavy cable-like chains
and the solid links of years past are still
worn and divide popularity with the
broad flat links, either plain, engraved
or perforated.; f The - newest thing , of
course are the fact ted beads, but they
are, alter all, within the reach ot com
paraaveiy few persons. Pendents are
still in the form of crosses, or of square
or oblong lockets; the plain, round
locket is still very much worn, bat it is
altogether a much older style. ,
AU this is apropos of the season and
a hint to those who are going to make
somebody . very happy by, something
or other in the line of ornament this
merry Christmas time." Boston Adver
tiser,
AX economical farmer a daughter in
Massachusetts put off her wedding day
because eggs were np to forty cents a
dozen, and it would take two dozen for
the wedding cakes and padding. '
i ' j ,
It s easier to bear np under our mis
fortunes than to survive thecomments
of our friends on them.
WORTH JUKES THE WOMAN.
Hew
the Pari Wnui Press The
that Costa Almeet Nechins.
Paris Correspondence of the N. T. Tribune.
But what terrible games the women
of fashion play when they go to the
Museum of Worth to choose the armor
wherewith to dazzle their lovers and ex
asperate their rivals. The quotations of
dresses rise without the least reaction.
vnni..Ai fmni , T u i o.i h
day I saw those '8ecurities" held at five
hundred francs. At a thousand francs.
1 made up my mind for you cau make
up your mind about anything. ; At two
ftinnnnnrl fmti T mnr niun fnr
uneasy
France: but the women mm ma zmtfrr 1
that x paraonaa nem, line everybody
else. Box five thousand francs (81,-
000) I stopped following prices
d washed my hands of the matter.
The silk-makers will say I am dream
ling, for after all twenty-five yrds of
silk at twenty francs cost ejly five
hundred francs. Yes, but the dress
maker knows very well that I am not
dreaming. She compares - herself
modestly with that great painter who.
with fifty sous' worth oi colors, made a
wiin miy sous wona oi colors, maae a
picture of otKJ.OOO francs. The material
ib nothing, says the dress-maker;it is the
4 rtf fitting 1,a
marvels oi bows and laces. And be
sides, when vou calculate twentv-five
yards, it is because you do not know
how to count. A half yard is enough
for the waist and arms in fact, you
need allow nothing for that, for the
dress really begins at the belt. Bnt a
dress cannot really said to be becoming
unless it follows you for a quarter of an
hour. People call it an exaggeration
when the fair Dronard occupied the en
tire stage in Mile. Thirty-six Virtues.
Y.'ith that incomparable train she was
onlv a day or so ahead of the fashion.
Yesterday at the masquerade ball of
Emile de Girardin, the beautiful Coun
tess de la Valette, disguised as a haute
gommeuse, set a dangerous example to
all women there, her dress was sucn a
wonder of pomp and emphasis. Before
such a dress, Louis XIV. would have
cried: "She who wears it shall be
princess."
Xt is not only lor the train tbat a great
deal of material is required it is for
the "retouching." A dress does not
make itself; the best cutter, even if she
designs like Raphael, must allow herself,
as the artists say, "space for repent
ance. he cuts boldly into the cloth.
feeling that her genius has the right to
sacrifice everything that does not suc
ceed.
At the opening night of the opera tlie
Marquise Anforti wore a miraculous
dress, made of an ancient Venetian bro
cade. It was worthy of the wife of a
Doge. As people were going into
ecstacies over it, she said, " And think !
I got it for nothing, only fifty francs a
yard." In fact, at the prices at which
dresses go, one might calculate that this
only cost 1,250 francs, counting twenty
five yards for the dress. But the mar
quis added, " I wanted to give one like it
to one of my friends, but Worth used
the whole hundred yards." And when
we cried out, she said, "What could you
do? At the first and at the second cut
he was inspired, but at the third he had
recovered all his genius."
After all, said a man of figures.
laughingly, " the dress only cost $5,000
francs."
Yes," said the marquise, " but you
forget the making."
"Hush, said the admirer. " I dou t
want to hear any more."
That is not all, she pursued. "I
spent $50,000 on my journey te Venice.
I was so happy at having found this
stuff so cheap that I was prodigal in
everything else.
"dome, now, said the man of fig
ures, "tell us at once tuat the dress
cost as much as the opera."
And the finer the dresses are, the less
they are worn. A woman would con
sider herself disgraced if it were said
that she had been seen twice in the
same dress. X lie day after a ball they
send the dress back to the dressmaker,
telling her to make it over. The making
over costs more than the material. The
ouif-r u' C a T t
fashion asked me to dine. "Yes," I
a i 1 r m l . i i
said, "on condition that your dress-
maker does not come on that day.
You think," she said, smiling, "that
the better I am dressed the worse you
will dine, as it is with most women. Be
of good cheer. JVfy table is as well
dressed as X am. The dinner was
charming. She had invited one of her
friends, asking her to come m an Asa-
Wednesday dress. She followed in
structions faithfully, and both appeared
in dresses made for the occasion, which
had only cost 2,000 francs each less
than nothing, as they complacently ob
served. f j
All these follies recall the saying of
Louis XV. and Mme. Dubarry : "After
us, the end of the world." If we were
under the royalty the great "organs of
public opinion would not fail to cry
out against the depravity of the court;
but we are under the republic, and so I
suppose we must diess our austere
principles as well as possible.
' Wise A en's Blunders.
Some very amusing additional blun
ders have been found in the new re
vised statutes. The chapter upon the
War Department has many serious er
rors. The following laws have been
omitted from the revision: The law
which authorized the President to as-
aign an acting chief to a military bureau;
tba law which allowed whisKV to fatigue
parties .in certain cross-cases; the Yaw l
which made cents a part of the army
ration; the law w'oic'u forbids the draw
ing of government checks to bearer;
the law which fixed the first assistant in
the Ordnance Bureau; the law which
defined the duties of .certain clerks in
the War Department. The statutes
also give the President the right to ap
point two-and-one-half persons to the
(Military Acad-eray every year, and pro-
vide- that a militia man must appear
upon parade, with a match-lock, a cer
tain number of flints, and a pair of bullet-molds.
,, ......
A keqeo woman wa relating her ex
perience to a gaping congregation of
color, and among other things, she said
she had been in heaven. One of the
ladies of color asked her: " Sister, dii
you see any black folks up in heaven f "
Ua. get out I you s pose X go in de
kitchen when I was dart" This reminds
us of the anecdote of a colored man.
who was so convinced of the lowliness
of his position, and that labor was a
natural lot, that he even was so indiffer
ent as to a future state, believing tbat
dey 11 make nigger work eben ef hie go
to hebben." A clergyman tried to ar
gue him out of this opinion, by repre
senting this not to be the ease, insomuch
as there was absolutely no work for him
to do in heaven.-i His answer was:
" Ob, you g way. massa. I knows better.
xi aere s no wars ipr culled folks up
dar, deyll make em shub de clouds
along. You can't focfi dis chile."
as sosor at a - popwiar theatre was
cauea out three times iiu one evening
... ... i- - a . .
not long ago, twice by a fheriff and once
by a tailor.
Sunshine and Shadow.
Your neighbor's name,
Or your friend's fair fame,
And what befell it,
In deed or word.
Yon may have heard,
Yet pray don't UJ1 it I
If kept within,
This rumored sin .
May prove a babble j
If told again, ,.W(B..
Lilre the thrirlns' grain.
' Twill soon grow doable !
Instead of peace,'
If strife increase.
Then try and qneuit!
, Think what yon will,
Of good or ill
Bat pray don't tell it.
Blbssixos, blessings oa tba beds.
Whose white pillows softly bear
Hows of little shining beads,
That have never known a eare
Pity for the heart tbat bleeds
In the homestead desolate.
Where no little troubling needs
Make the weary working wait
Safely, aafely to the fold ' : '
Bring them, whereaoe'er they be .
Thon who sa'd'st of tbem of old,
- ' Suffer them to come to me."
Where is the sunshine where Is the noiee ?
Where are the nlavthinKs gone ?
What shall I do with my empty arms.
Sitting alone, alone f
What shall I do with the empty crib 7
Where shall I set his chiir ?
Most the darli-ig little one's clothes come dow n.
uu, let me leave tnezn were :
Kay, fold them np softly, and pat them by;
Xiife is holier through tbia pain:
Lay rip the carriage cheek the deep sigh,
Take np life's duties sgain: .
Turn the face folly toward Heaven and God
llis sweet peace snail Keep tnee suic
Bow low before Him, kisuug His rod.
Ana murmur, love 'Most as uoa win.
A smart thino A mustard plaster.
A pais of rubbers A washerwoman's
hands.
Spain had four queens just as many
as a euchre deck.
, To make a drum stick Set it on the
head of a tar barreL
The farmer's surest speculations 'will
be in live stock and plough-shares. '
BiiONDHf is making a fortune in Aus
tralia. - f- '' i y
Manx men are blessed with the most
uncommon sense, and do not seem to
know it.
"Send me a letter of true inward
ness or a paroxysmal kiss" writes a
gushing lover.
"Mr r-BCTTRB," said a California ora
tor, "will te brief." A turnip hit him
at tbat invtant, and he announced: "The
meeting stands adjourned I"
Yes you know, but really. Ouv
nor (to prodigal clerk coming late)
Half past ten, Mr. Xlawkins I cuerk.
(pulling out his watch) liight you ate,
r, to the tick. (Uuv nor gasps.) t
Wipuam Taylor, a soldier of the war
of 1812, and the first white male child
born in Cincinnati, died there a few
days sines. His golden wedding was
celebrated in 1868. I
A Montreal woman, forty-seven
years of age, who has been married
twenty-two years and had nine children,
has just discovered that she has no
affinity for her husband, and eloped
with a . boy not yet nineteen. She
carried away property belonging to her
husband to the amount of over 87,000.
A FTNNT story is teld of two Ver
mont farmers who are . not Grangers.
They induced their wives to ioin and
report before thev would commit them
selves. Now, when they will, they can
not; two black-balls greet every applica
tion. Meanwhile the wives go regularly
and triumphantly to every Orange meet
ing, md the men stay at home and tend
the babies. r " "
Thky got up a surprise party Thurs
day night last on a young . married
couple, at whose house in Swamp
poodle a similar affair was one of the
Bocial sucesses of the last season. The
conspirators were met calmly but cor
dially at the gate by the husband, who
rested on his shot gun, while his beauti
ful and accomplished wife, whose face
and form were visible inside the porch,
said she was very glad, to
see them, but she didn t think ' she
could hold the bull-dog back more than
a minute longer
It's no use for a stranger to try and
get off. a pun in Detroit. Tho other
day, when a New Yorker, detained at 1
one of the depots for a while, got into
conversation with . an old fat woman
known as Amy, and asked her if she
bad ever been convicted of the crime of
big Amy, she took out a memorandam
book and showed him the names of
twenty-eight persons who had got
ahead of him on that same pun. De
troit Free Press.
Why, one would hardly recognize the
old poem:
' If I had a" donkey what wouldn't go, i
Io you thiuk I'd' wallop him ? Oh, no, no !
I d give him some oats, and cry, Qe we !
, Gee hup, Neddy!"
In this elegant version of it :
"If I had an animal averse to speed..
Do you think I'd chastise him ? No, indeed
I would give him some oats, and observe,
'Proceed
Go on, Kdward V
"When I was travelling in Massa
chusetts some twenty years ago," said
a traveller, "I had a seat with the driver,
wno, on stopping at ine post-ooioe,
saluted an ill-looking fellow on the
steps with, 'Good morning, Judge San
ders: I hope you are well sir?' After
leaving the office, I asked the driver if
the man he spoko to wns really a Judge.
'Certainly,' sir,' he replied.1 'We had a
cock fight last week, and he was made
a judge on that occasion. ".
A vocng Washingtonian'who has i tut
been appointed an army paymaster and
ordered West, gets the following good
" send off from the National .. Repub
lican: "As a leader of the 'German he
stands without a rival in this city. No
camp meeting or pigeon match coajd be
successfully conducted without his
presence. Xn the Be wing circle he was
always welcome, and when there was a
presentation to be made, Roche alone
could do it properly. In fact, every
body loves 'Jim- Koche- The ladino
praise him, the children cry for him.
and the colored people call him
Moses." .,.-,-.:.
I see a paragraph going around till
ing of a girl who fell out of a window
wliile listening to a serenade. This re
minds mo of Peter Lamb's adventure
down our way a year or two ago. H
was serenading one of the Metcaif girls,
and she was leaning out of the window,
wiui snunera uow en so mas neootud no
see her. Lamb's little tune contained
one high note, and he struck it sudden
ly, ana with sucn cembie force that i
made her jump. She lost her foothold,
fell oat, and described half a somer
sault, one foot hitting Mr. Lamb squarely-in
the face, and the- other' smashing;
in the top of his guitar: Simply "ejacu
lating " Gosh " he leaped from the
gutter and fled, ' under the impression
that old Metcaif had thrown a bedstead
at him, while Lucretia picked tba cat
gut and basswood from hertoet,
up her back hair, and v- ' t k
house. Lfrsb stT3 "
last yr vjztxi ; 1 "ivi s v i
four till rea r I a r- - 1
V
- - y