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ATLANTA, GA.. SATURDAY, APRIL 3, 1875.
MARY E. BRYAN,
Editress.
Bark Again.
Bnck once again to old scenes and vocations—.
back, after the lapse of so many changeful years,
to find the faces of old friends scarcely altered—■
only grown kindlier and more thoughtful; to
find the green slopes and budding trees the
same, and the aspect of the city—changed, in
deed, but only on the side of improvement and
beauty less provincial and more metropolitan,
and, in its picturesque, broken outlines and its
clean and airy appearance, affording a marked
contrast to the Crescent City “of one vast plain,”
where we sojourned awhile in our transit.
Is it a good omen that we have come with the
violets and swallows? — with the sweet, life-
renewing Spring? At any rate, as the fresh
breeze, redolent of orchard-bloom, plays upon
our invalid cheek, a spell seems to dissolve—a
Rip Van Winkle dream to be broken; the shad
owed years roll away like a mist, and a voice
calls from some height of aspiration, like an
Alpine horn among the mountains, bidding us
“Be up and doing.
With a heart for any fate."
Fill and Lean.
Three years ago a lean maiden had no more
chance of admiration than a mud-fence; enibon-
lioint was all the rage, and bright eyes were noth
ing to plump shoulders. The novels—faithful
mirrors of popular taste—described all their
heroines as possessing “voluptuous physiques;”
the sensational artists showed up their female
figures with the broadest snow-drift of charms;
and managers of theatres, in employing their
“ladies of the ballet,” looked first to the size of
their calves. Now, however, the tables are
turned. Since the advent of the bean-pole style
of dress, the “lean kine” have reason to rejoice, j
for their star is in the ascendant. Slimness is
all the style. Corset-strings are made of extra
strength, and ale and sawdust are at a discount.
What is to become of the fat women—the hope- J
lessly embonpoint figures that no stays can squeeze ;
into slimness? But lately their style was de- I
scribed as “grand,” “superb,” or “deliciously
plump;” now they are disposed of as “stout”
or “dumpy.” Either they must get reduced by
some patent process, or else patiently bide their
time and wait until their turn comes upon Fash
ions ever-restless see-saw, which carries us
“Now up, up, up;
And now down, down, down.”
The ( acoethes Soribendi A Fate.
Superstition once held that there was witch-
| craft in type as in cards, and that whoever once
meddled with the “unclean things" would never
be able to “hands off" again. Does this account
for the fact that whoever has followed the edito
rial business, whether as “sub ” or “super,” will
be sure to have a constant longing for the old
vocation ?—will feel his heart beat at the click of
the types and warm at the cry of the ragged
news-boy with his arm full of damp “morning
issue,” or at sight of the smirched face of a
“printer’s devil” peering out with a broad grin
of mischief from some upper region in which
the mysterious business of printing is going on ?
In New Orleans, a few days ago, we had an
unexpected grasp of the hand from one who had
belonged to the printing fraternity in years
past—who had, in fact, begun his career in that
line in this city fifteen years ago, as editor of a
sheet eccentric as himself,—a strange, impul
sive, contradictory being, but unmistakably en
dowed with the gift (half bane, half blessing)
of genius, and with a soul
“ That mid the lions
Of his tumultuous senses moaned defiance.”
Many vicissitudes had he passed through since
he first unfurled his banner “with the strange
device” (strange then, but so familiar after
wards) in the city of railroads. He had seen
brave service with his sword for his country in
her desperate struggle for independence--sharp
service with his pen for her sake when she lay
bleeding under the feet of the conqueror. Then
Fate grew softer, and gave him a lovely Spanish
bride, with some thousands of Spanish doub
loons for a dower, and acres of sugar-farms and
orange-groves in the ever-faithful isle. We heard
of the pair through the papers—gay birds of
passage at Northern cities and pleasure places—
and we said: “Bohemia has lost him from her
ranks. He will be a gentleman of leisure, or a
thriving farmer on those rice and sugar farms.”
And then all this went by like an Aladdin vis
ion, and here he was to-day—Bohemian again,
by the careless neck-tie and the unconventional
air—dabbling once more in printer’s ink, with
the doubloons flown on wings of butterfly (when
did gold ever stay with genius?) and the bright
eyed bride left afar in her island bowers, while
he comes back to dusty office-rooms, proof-sheets,
and the harpies whose insatiable cry is “copy!”
yes, back to the old fatal allegiance that he can
never shake off, because (so runs the supersti
tion) of the wicked “charm” there is in “type.”
A Birthday u Reception ” in I.illipiit.
Miss Sallie Lou R., of Atlanta, gave a recep
tion at her pleasant boarding-house, on the fif- I
teenth of March. Lest some fashionable young
ladies should be in a flutter to know the length
of the train and the value of the diamonds she
wore, we hasten to say that Miss Sallie Lou’s
reception was on the occasion of her first birth
day—the completion of the twelve sweet moons
that make the sum-total of her baby life.
Yet, she did the honors of the day with much j
dignity — the “sweet and serious dignity of
august babyhood,” as somebody has it. She
received her guests — little Lilliputians of her
own age and size—with pretty shyness, and in
her blue embroidered dress attracted the kisses
of more than one small admirer, whose boister
ous demonstrations were promptly repressed by
the nurse, anxious for the safety of her young
lady’s lace-bib.
But male babyhood is decidedly practical, and
neither the blonde loveliness of the hostess, nor
the peach-bloom beauty of her friend, Miss Adah
B. (aged two years), who “assisted” her at the
reception, could fascinate the young gentlemen’s
attention from the beautifully-decorated cakes,
nuts and ornamented confectionery that graced
the table. How much “fatty-bread and goodies”
these miniature men and women devoured, it
would be hard to tell; but all went away satis
fied, with pockets full of candy and a slice of
pound cake in each chubby fist.
A poetical idea was involved in ore decoration
of the table. In the centre, around the largest
cake, burned twelve perfumed, colored tapers,
to represent the twelve months or moons of the
child’s life. As the feast proceeded these were
extinguished one by one, to indicate that the
months had expired.
May many more moons be added to the life of
little Bailie Lou—each one a jewel of joy, and
clasped by such a golden birthday as that she
has just celebrated.
[For The Sunny South.)
TIRED —TO EVA.
BY ISEREOHN.
I am tired—I am tired of this tear-dimm'd earth;
I long for the land where the poorest is of worth;—
I am tired of the scenes in this life’s narrow place.
Where the heart’s bitter sorrows are worn on the face.
I am tired—I am tired! my heart throbs with pain;
I am sick of life’s struggle with its pitiful gain.—
Its poor, barren harvests, so spare of golden sheaves—
Trees without their fruit, and nothing left but leaves.
I am tired—I am tired of hopes long deferred;
The bright days that were coming which Fate has deterred;
Of dreams that are fading, of hopes that are gone;
Leaves us with our shattered fancies—forsaken—alone.
I am tired—I am tired of these long, weary years
That make up existence’s sum, smiles, hopes and tears.
How hard to keep strength for each trial we meet—
Find amid life’s bitter waters a drop that is sweet.
I am tired—I am tired of this watching and fear.
Striving to keep forever things that are dear.
Oh! how heavy the heart and how saddening the sigh,
When life’s dearest objects all wither and die.
I am tired—I am tired! how I long for the rest
That awaits weary hearts in the land of the blest—
Far away from life’s borders—from sorrow and care—
From darkness—for God’s own effulgence is there.
FASHION NOTES.
BY MADAME THERISI.
Fashion’s Vagaries-A Return to the Antique.
Nobody need be surprised at any caprice which
Fashion chooses to indulge in, not even if she
should order a return to the primitive fig-leaves.
Who, on recalling the immense hoops that women
used to trundle about the streets, can help won
dering at the tremendous collapse that has taken
place? From puncheon to bean-pole, truly ! The
present style has the advantage, however, of being
more natural and graceful, since it permits the
human shape to be seen, and gives no room for
such conjectures as disturbed the innocent Jap
anese who, on first sight of a crinolined woman,
wanted to know if all that was her. So far as
shape is concerned, there is no hiding of beauty
under a bushel in present styles — especially
since Worth, taking a hint from the washer
women of the Seine, invented his lavandiere, or
washer-woman’s costume, which requires the
skirt to be drawn tightly in front and tucked up
behind with that very hitch which we have long
ago seen performed in perfection by our black
Dinahs on washing and scouring days.
And now, it appears, we are to have another
revolution in des modes, and the artists are to
have it their own way. Having gone to the ex
treme of absurdity in the multiplicity of trim
mings, slashings and profuse ornamentation.
Fashion has rebounded into the other extreme
of severe simplicity, and we are to have dresses
modeled after the antique. A late bulletin from
Paris announces that “Grecian draperies are
now all the vogue, and a woman dressed accord
ing to the best-acknowledged fashion of the day
resembles a beautiful marble stable, chiseled by
a master hand. No more puffs, no more crino
lines; the folds of the dress falling over the fig
ure are its sole ornaments. It is nature—it is
art in all its sublimity.”
Well, it will be a most welcome change to have
free-flowing outlines and graceful folds in place
of the cut-up skirts, the fussy and gaudy trim
mings that disfigure so many handsome dresses
and give them a stringy and vulgar appearance.
This style is the horror of all who have an eye
for harmony of form, and no true artists have
encouraged it. See how George Elliot clothes
her noble Dorothea, in contrast to the pretty
over-dressed doll. Rosamond, whom she stands
beside—a Nile lily beside an artificial pink:
“Let those who know, tell us exactly what
stuff it was that Dorothea wore in those days of
mild Autumn—that thin, white woolen stuff,
soft to the touch and soft to the eye. It always
seemed to have been lately washed and to smell
of the sweet hedges—was always in the shape of
a pelis&e with sleeves hanging all out of the
fashion; yet if she had entered before a still
audience as Imogen or Cato's daughter, the dress
would have seemed right enough, since it did
not disguise the grace and dignity of her limbs
and neck.”
In such a dress a poet would clothe his ideal.
Naught modish in it: pure and noble lines
Of generous womanhood that fits all time.
Our Correspondents.
Our senior piles an “ Ossa upon Pelion” of en
velopes, big and little, upon our table, with a
look that says, “See what comes of your non
arrival in due time. You will never catch up
with all that correspondence. ”
Well, we will try, premising to our corres
pondents that their communications have not
been wilfully neglected, but have been lying
unopened, awaiting one whose arrival circum
stances conspired to delay.
Mrs. L., of Florida. •— You need not have
doubted that a warm welcome would be accorded
the familiar handwriting for the sake of “ Auld
Lang Syne.” Will you send a chapter of the
long story by w T ay of sample ? As to the publi
cation of your book, we think it would be best
to sell the copyright, unless you had some expe
rienced friend to superintend the publishing,
advertising and general “getting out” of the
book. There are mysteries in the matter of book
publishing known only to the initiated.
llenriette.—The drawing you enclose is very
creditable to a young beginner. The design
shows imagination. Persevere in your unas
sisted efforts to improve, and it is probable that
some way will be opened by which you can have
the help you need,—a good master and access to
works of art. We should be so glad-to see schools
of design and art societies in the South for the neck-tie, out of the way of the devastating hands
John Chinaman in the Streets.
It is queer how the Chinese portion of Uncle
Sam’s family can never be domesticated—never
be brought into any kind of national assimila
tion with the masses of different races and na
tions that go to make up our population. No
amount of American experience can make a
brother Jonathan out of John Chinaman. He
remains a thing apart—a veritable pariah—as
isolated in the crowded street as in the temple
of his peculiar worship, burning a joss stick
before his hideous idol. Men pass him, talking
animatedly about stocks and prices; colored pol
iticians, with skins half a dozen shades darker
than his own jonquil hue, strut by him discuss
ing the important subjects of mileage and per
diem ; ladies sweep by him in silks his race have
woven; news-criers, patent medicine vendors,— j
he sees them all, but he takes no interest in
their talk or their pursuits. He puts no finger
in the pie of American politics; he has nothing j
to do with stocks.) he thinks the- fashionable
belle, that glides by with such wasp-like waist,
a pitiable creature that ought to be confined in a
chair with iron clamps on her feet, and fed on
butter and sea-slugs until her attenuated shape
took on the beautiful rotundity of a hogshead.
Make overtures of good-will to him as he
stands at the market-place offering for sale his
quaint but delicately-wrought and decorated
wares, and he will take your money greedily,
but peer at you suspiciously with outstretched
neck and small, diagonally-set eyes that are
watchful of any evil designs on your part—per
haps the fiendish American mania for abbrevi
ating his cherished cue. This beloved append
age he has prudently tucked under a red woolen
Winter, with his icy breath and hoary head,
is gone at last, and we may hope for a season of
sunshine and flowers, and what to some of our
lady friends will be more desirable, a stow.ing
away of dark, heavy dresses and wraps, and the
delightful sensation produced by putting on our
first new spring fixings. We are more fortunate
in this respect than our Northern friends, for
j while they don’t dare to leave off cashmere, serge
and cloth at least before May, our genial South-
; em clime brings us days in the midst of April
sunny and warm enough to don our spring at-
j tire; and how sweet and fresh we feel! Dear
Sunny South ! Although ground beneath the
tyrant’s heel and strewn with desolation, land of
our nativity, who would be willing to desert thee
for more prosperous realms !
Colors.
Dark neutral tints of brown and gray will con
tinue to be worn on the street, and is an evidence
of refined taste. Washing fabrics are indispen
sable in warm weather, but most of those suita
ble for street wear, such as linen, partake of the
dark tints. Dark gray, soft drab and nut-brown
take the lead. There is also a lovely new day
shade styled “invisible blue.” Black has lost
nothing of its distinction, but rather gained in
popularity, being the main livery to combine
economy and respectable appearance.
“Light tints,” says a leading journal, “are
still seen in cottons, thick and thin, but these
are little used out of doors; and it is only upon
the streets that public opinion among intelligent
women seems to establish, with the force of an
unwritten law, the dictum that dark colors and
indistinguishable tints shall be the rule.”
encouragement of the artistic talent that is here,
latent and undeveloped, like seed in the snow,
waiting a warmer breath of prosperity to make
them unfold into flowers.
Arthur Hearvin, of Oakland, S. C.—We regret
that it is out of our power to give you the ad
dress of Mr. Charles Dodd. We have lost sight
of him for years. Perhaps he may respond on
being “called into court.” We cannot supply
you with back numbers containing “ Twice Con
demned.”
Alfred S., of Xeic Orleans.—You pay a charm
ing compliment to woman, and we tender our
thanks for the same. Yes, you are right; the
ladies should do their best to sustain The Sunny
South. It is on their side and for their advan
tage, since it is on the side of beauty and refine
ment. Whatever elevating and refining influ
ence there is in society works on the side of
woman—acts as a moral lever to elevate her po
sition. Ergo, the ladies should uphold The
Sunny South for the sake of being better appre
ciated by their husbands and lovers.
Clara, of Yorkville, S. C.—We are delighted to
learn your whereabouts. The song-birds of the
South have scattered so since the war-storm shat
tered so many home-nests, that we cannot keep
up with them, unless they will sing oftener from
their retreats. The Sunny South would gladly
catch an echo from “Clara's” song. As regards
her request, we have not the poem “Moryn” at
hand: indeed, we had forgotten writing such a
poem, until she recalled it to memory by quot
ing the opening lines.
Katie.—We have placed “The Vision of Smoke”
on tile for publication. The poems are not amiss,
but we have no need of them just now. Did
you read our senior’s pathetic appeal to the
poets, in the last issue of The Sunny South?
He declares the modern Pegassus has grown to
be a nightmare, that sits “heavy on his manly
breast" and brays in his ear. “Sleep no more—
the Muses murder sleep.” Don't believe him.
He has simply had an overplus of poetic wail
ings over the past and yearnings after the unat
tainable. Josh Billings says that when a young
woman yearns after the unattainable, she is hun
gry— depend upon it. Nice fellow ! to make the
••souls infinite longings" synonymous with a
craving for mere bread and butter !
Many letters stand over, to be answered next
week.
Thanks to our esteemed friend. Mr. Norcross,
for a bottle of pure wine made by himself from
grapes of his own raising. Its beautiful ruby
hue promised a fruity flavor before the cork was
drawn, and the impromptu committee of ladies
that “sampled” it decided that the promise
was redeemed. It was so like our old friend's
thoughtfulness, to remember an invalid with the
Red River malaria making her pulses creep lan
guidly in spite of the bright Spring sunshine
and the busv life around.
that are given to curtailing its length, and thus
ostracising poor John from Chinese good soci
ety, and degrading him tobe a “ dog of dogs.”
One meets these curious, dreamy Chinese faces
and shuffling figures in streets full of our busy,
wide-awake Anglo-Saxons, and momentarily they
conjure up a vision of the mystic East—of bam
boo pavilions and bell-girdled pagodas—of vailed
beauties palanquin-bome and fanned by white- j
trowsered coolies—of Buddha in his iron chair, j
and of fair rose gardens where brocaded Celes
tials sit in bamboo-chairs and sip their tea or
smoke their opium-pipes in the soft, perfumed
air. Such an Eastern mirage rises for an instant
at sight of those quaint, peering foreign faces in j
the streets; and as it fades, it is followed by less
romantic reminiscences of “bird's-nest soup”
and puppy ragout. And apropos, we have lately
seen a Chinese bill-of-fare. It won’t do for Mrs.
Hill’s department, so we append it here. It is
for an ordinary Chinese dining:
I. Sharks’ fins with crab sauce: (1) pigeons’ j
eggs stewed with mush-rooms ; (2) sliced sea-
slugs in chicken broth with ham. II. Wild duck I
anti Shantung cabbage; (3) fried fish; (4) lumps
of pork fat fried in rice flour. III. Stewed lily
roots: (5) chicken mashed to pulp, with ham:
(6) stewed bamboo shoots. IV. Stewed shell
fish; (7) fried slices of pheasant; (8) mushroom
broth. Remove.—Two dishes of fried pudding,
one sweet and the other salt, with two dishes of j
steamed puddings, also one sweet and one salt.
[These four are put on the table together, and j
with them is served a cup of almond tea.] V.
Sweetened duck. VI. Strips of boned chicken,
fried in oil. VII. Boiled fish (of any kind) with
soy. VIII. Lumps of parboiled mutton, fried
in pork fat. These last four large courses are
put on the table, one by one, and are not taken
away. Subsequently a fifth, a bowl of soup, is
added, and small basins of rice are served round,
over which some of the soup is poured. The
meal is then at an end. A rince-bouche is handed
to each guest, and a towel, dipped in boiling
water, but well wrung out. With the last he
mops his face all over, and the effect is much
the same as half a noggin of Exshaw, qualified
with a bottle of Schweppe. Pipes and tea are
now handed round, though this is not the first
appearance of tobacco on the scene. Many Chi
namen take a whiff or two at their hubble-bub
bles between almost every course. Opium is
provided when dinner is over for such as are
addicted to the fatal luxury ; and after a few
minutes, spent, perhaps in arranging the- pre
liminaries of some future banquet, the party,
which has probably lasted from three to four
hours, is no longer of the present, but in the
past.
“How little has he to fear who does not fear
to die.”
New Dress Material.
The designs of this season seem to follow up
those of last in broken plaids, small checks and
stripes varying from hair lines to broad dashes
from one to three inches wide. These will be
used for polonaises worn over silk skirts. Some
times sleeves are added of silk to match the
skirt. The shade of the silk chosen should
always be darker than the ground of the plaid.
The foreign fabrics of the balzarine and barege
styles are expected to be revived again this sea
son, and nothing could give more general satis
faction, as they are so well adapted to the pres
ent models and hand trimmings.
American silks have at last entered into com
petition with those from the foreign looms, and
bid fair to outrival them, not only in pre-emi
nence in durability, but in elegance, beauty and
finish. We congratulate Messrs. Cheney on
their brilliant but dearly-won success. Little
by little they have conquered one obstacle after
another, until their goods rank among the best,
and our leaders of fashion will soon throw away
the notion that everything really worth buying
must come from foreign ports, and learn to pat
ronize national enterprise.
Cashmere and camel’s-hair goods are still
largely used, but it will doubtless soon be get- made exactly (to fit) like kids, and have the same
ting too warm here for anything so heavy. Suits number of buttons; are much more pleasant to
of solid debege in two shades of gray or brown wear, and not so expensive.
put so much work on a dress that will be worn
only a few times and cast aside. And slender
purses, let me give you one piece of comforting
information, namely: Thirty or forty yards of
fabric is no longer required to cut up into ruf
fles, puffs, pleatings, etc., and be hidden by an
elaborate overskirt also ruffled, puffed and
pleated, to render a complete fashionable suit.
One thing is certain.—the reign of flounces and
furbelows that have hitherto disguised the figure
is being overthrown, and we once more appear
as nearly as possible like the Creator designed
us. The taste for costumes closely outlining
the figure has only just begun to develop itself.
! (“ Good heavens !” I hear; “ what will the style
i be when fully developed ?”) Nevertheless, my
statement from the very best authority is true.
Oar Researches
Have been limited this month for various rea
sons, but we will just tell yon about one or two
new dresses we chanced to get a glimpse of.
A skirt of violet silk; a scant flounce fifteen
inches deep and bordered at the lower edge with
; narrow knife pleating, being headed with a
pleated puff with heading each way. The polo
naise of gray cashmere formed a deep tablier in
front, and was pleated up high at the back under
a sash formed of alternate loops of gray cash-
mere and violet silk; pockets, sleeves and collar
of violet. A band of violet silk begun at the
waist in back, came over the shoulder, formed a
vest in front, turned square below the pocket
and reached back under the sash. This band
gave the effect of a basque in the back. Bows of
violet ribbon were placed on the front from the
neck to the lower edge of the polonaise. The
contrast of violet and gray was striking, and tak
ing the dress altogether, it formed quite a dis-
tintjue costume.
Another was a skirt of dark-brown silk with
no trimming. Polonaise of Scotch tweeds, the
ground being 6efi/e-coIored, crossed in broad
plaids of dark brown with a thread of cardinal
running through the dark. This was looped
very high at the side-form seams, having a
double box-plait laid under, which left between
the side-forms perfectly plain. The bottom came
in a decided curve back and front, and was fin
ished with a simple hem. Open up to the waist
at back, it was joined with white buttons of pol
ished wood. A standing collar of plaid and one
turned down, forming lapels in front of dark
silk. Dark silk bows up the front and one with
out ends between the two collars at the back.
This polonaise was draped three times in the
centre of the back and hung most gracefully.
A Pew General Remarks.
“Chenaub”isa kind of^ goods called after a
river of that name in Assyria and is all wool,
very light, and does splendidly for traveling
suits through the summer. They are in new
diagonal designs, in grays and browns, and cost
fifty cents per yard.
Fichus—who of us do not fancy the pretty,
dressy.effect they give? There are many new
styles for these, and among the former styles,
the peerless Mary Antoinette is still universally
popular. They may be made of silk and lace,
velvet and lace, white or black net, crepe de Chine,
tulle, French muslin, or almost anything else
you can “pick up.” Nothing trims up a dress
so successfully, nothing so inexpensive or avail
able, as one of the elegant little beauties.
Answers to Correspondents.
Estelle.—The hair is still much worn in a cata-
gon braid at the back, the front being arranged
in any simple way that is most becoming. There
are a variety of coiffeurs, however, but we have
not space to describe. Black velvet is the pret
tiest trimming for the hair, at home, in the day.
Louie.—Dear little friend, we will guard your
secret sacredly, and can excuse, as at sixteen we
were in the same ethereal realm. A pair of slip
pers, a cigar-case, embroidered suspenders, or
any little simple something made by Louie’s
fairy fingers, will be appreciated by votre roi, if
he is genuine; but don’t, by any means, make a
gentleman a present until he has brought you
into his debt by giving you one. To do so would
be soliciting a like favor from himself.
Ida M.—For summer wear, English thread-
gloves are more in use than kids. They are now
may be found comfortable and durable, if not
showy. Small checks are the rage this season in
silks, grenadines, Mexicaines and other thin
fabrics. The beautiful open-meshed materials
! of silk and linen, so much admired last season,
reappear, having a line of bright color through
the simple ecru of which they formerly con
sisted.
House Dresses.
A like degree of beauty in the patterns on
prints, percales, cambrics, lawns, jaconets, etc.,
has never before been attained. Out of these
neat and pretty but inexpensive goods, house
dresses may be made. Most of these are in
stripes, plaids or diagonals, and are nearly
always accompanied by borders, with which the
dress may be trimmed without further outlay.
There are also chintz patterns with flower bor
ders, but these are not so refined or lady-like as
the graver style. These dresses are usually
made into morning dresses by some of the nu
merous patterns to be found, or in a skirt and
and polonaise (loose and felted or close), or in
overskirt and jacket. Linen (brown or gray) is
sometimes made into house dresses, but suits
the street much better.
Mary Bert on.—For cheap decorations—such as
chair and sofa covers, protectors over washstands,
lambrequins, and various other purposes—heavy
brown linen, embroidered in wool, is much in
use, and very pretty indeed.
Taste in Dress.
Trimmings
Are very much in hand-made garniture as last
season. Flat, shirred puffings are more worn
than ever as the lighter materials come into use.
Knife-blade pleatings and pipings are still pop
ular. Independent trimmings consist of gimps,
jettings, fringes, laces, etc. “Titian” braid and
“ Matalasse ” braid are both much used for spring
over-jackets of light- material. Embroidery is
used by those who can do it themselves or who
can afford to have it done; but it is a useless
piece of extravagance (among many others) to
Far from being of the opinion of Catharine of
Aragon, “that dressing-time is wasting time,”
the woman, we are apt to think, who has not
- some natural taste in dress, some love of novelty,
some delight in the combination of colors, is
deficient in a sense of the beautiful. As a work
of art, a well-dressed woman is a study. That
a love of dress is natural, and that it has some
advantages, is so plain as to be scarcely worth
recording. It does not follow that it should
engross every other taste; it is only the coquette’s
heart which, as Addison describes it, is stuffed
with a flame-colored hood. From the days of
Anne Boleyn, who varied her dress every day,
and wore a small handkerchief over her round
neck to conceal a mark thereon, and a falling
sleeve to hide her doubly-lapped little finger,
dress has had its place.in the heart of an English
woman. And it is well that it should be so, for
the dowdy, be she young or be she old, is sure
to hear from it from her husband, if she has not
also done so from brothers and fancy cousins.
Indifference and consequent inattention to dress
often shows pedantry, self-righteousness, or in
dolence, and whilst extolled by the “unco gude”
as a virtue, may be noted as a defect. Every
woman should habitually make the best of her
self. We dress our rooms with flowers and make
our tables gorgeous with silver and china; should
our wives be less attractive than all around them ?
Among the rich and great, the love of dress pro
motes taste and fosters ingenuity and industry.
A drunken fellow who had slept in the horse
pound at camp, waked up one morning to find
himself haltered and the proprietor demanding
pay for his oats. The fellow protested, saying
he was not a horse. “No difference,” was” the
reply; “we charge as much for an ass as for a
horse. ”