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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. ”