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THU MERCURY.
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9,u*rsvlllr, W«llllllst»« Cunt,, (fe.
HTBMHHKn ni
a. J. JERNIGAN,
PBOFBOnOB AND PuDLUHKR.
gaincriptkn
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DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE.
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VOL. II.
SANDER8VILLE. GA., SEPTEMBER 27, 1881.
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HAN DERS VILLE, QA.
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damn.
Ofllce In the Oourt-houso,
0. H. ROGERS,
Attorney at Law,
Saudorsrille, Ga,
Prompt attontion given to all business.
Ollioo in northwest wing of Court house
May 4, 1880.
C. C. BROWN,
Attorney at Law,
Handersville, Ga.
Will practico iu the Stato and United State,
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H. N. HOLLIFIELD,
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HANDERSVILLE, GA.
I«st8 Cash.
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• v Pnl 3, 1880.
B. D. EVANS,
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SANDERSVILLE, GA.
A l>nl 3,1880.
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'■ bin the Piii os^
tlio “INVALID^
I Mcdlclpo-c
I p * r >‘i iro;T„ vi,u wyalids^
i ^lau. withGU’ui’^ 8011
'obite andlrreSlMdcdrol
- ’ DICTIONARY.^3*
U8.000 of WEBSTER, has
4ROo. 3000 Engravings,
to-® WORDS and Meaning!,
graphical Dictionary
oi over 9700 Names.
heul ' y G ' * C, MERRIAM, Bpringfleld, Maas.
KcftOt
Oome to me in the BUenoe of the night;
Como in the speaking alienee of a dream ;
Como with soft rounded cheeks and eves as
bright
Ah sunlight on a stream ;
Oome back in tears,
Oil, memory, hope, lovo of finished years.
Oh, dream, how sweot, too sweet, too bitter
sweet,
Whose wakening should havo boon in Para-
dise,
Where souls brimful of lovo abido and meet •
Whore thirsting, longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, lets in, lets out no more.
Yet oome to me in dreams, that I may live
My vory life again, though cold in death j
Oome back to me in dreams, that I may give
Tnlse for pulse, breath for breath;
Speak low, lean low,
As long ago, my love, how long ago I
— Christina A. Rossetti.
“ADOPTED.”
" It’s vory strange,” muttered Blanolie
Ponroy, slowly weaving together the
wreath of scarlet antumn leaves with
whioh she was decorating her broad-
brimmed straw hat.
She made a beautiful picture sitting
there all alone in the mellow glow and
color of tho October woods, a crimson
bawl drooping from her shoulders, and
the sunshine lighting up her bright
auburn curls with glittering threads of
gold, while upon the fallen tree trunk
that formed her impromptu seat lay a
tiny branch of ferns and autumnal flow
ers. She was transparently fair, with
purple veins in each waxen temple and
a faint pink bloom on her cheekB, while
her eyes, large and brown, Beemed to
look ot you with the grave, tender ex
pression of an infant.
"Yes, it is very strange,” went on Miss
Penroy, musing within herself. “I
kuow so little about him; I have only
known him about ton days, yet when he
spoke about leaving Elm Point last
night it seemed as if all tho sunshine
was leaving the world for me. Oh,
Blanche— naughty, naughty, naughty
little Blanche 1” she added, leaning for
ward, and apostrophizing the fair face
mirrored in the stream at her feet. “ Is
it possible that you’ve allowed yoursolf
to fall in lovo with that tall, black-eyed
roung man ? Ten days ago I had never
seen him—and now 1”
The roses mounted up in her cheek as
/lie wondered within herself whether
Mr. Evering oared for her.
“ I wish I know I” she muttered aloud.
"Knew what?" demanded a calm
voice, and Mr. Gilbert Evering took up
the bunch of flowers and coolly seated
himself beside her—a tall, handsome
man, with brilliant dark eyes, rather ir
regular features, and a deep color glow
ing through bis olive skin.
Blanche demurely looked up at him—
she was not to be taken by storm thus
easily—and asked:
" Do you think it will rain to-morrow.
For our pionio I want to wear my white
India shawl ?”
"Oh, the pionio I I had forgotten
that when I spoke of leaving to-morrow.
Of course, though, my presence or ab
sence will make no great difference ?”
Blanche was silent. Somehow that
soarlet and brown spotted leaf required
a good deal of adjustment in that ribbon
of her hat.
" Blanche, shall I go or stay ?’’
"As you please, Mr. Evering, of
course.” S
“ No ; as somebody else pleases. Yes
or no 1 And I forewarn you that yes
means a great deal.”
"How much does it mean?” ques
tioned Blanche, half arohly, half timor
ously.
“ Everything I”
"Then you may stay.”
“My Blanche—my little daisy 1” he
whispered, bending his stately head
over the slender hand that lay on the
autumn loaves. And Blanche felt that
in the golden stillness of that' October
evening she had turned a new page iu
the book of her life 1
She was vory, very happy, and all that
day she seemed to be walking through
the bright mysteries of a dream. But
with the morning came other feelings;
alas I that shadow should always follow
sunshine in this world of ours.
“I’m not disposed to be unreasonable,
Blanche 1” said Gilbert, in a whisper, as
he arranged her white lace shawl for
her, amid the merry tumult of the pic-
nio ground, “ but I do think you have
waltzed quite often enough with Mr.
Birmingham 1”
" Jealous already, Gilbert?”, taunted
the girl, flushed and rosy with the
triumphs of her "beauty, and the irre
sistible, instincts of coquetry.
« Of course you’ll do as you please,
Blanche; only I warn you, it’s a ohoice
between Walter Birmingham and me
You dance with him again at your own
risk 1"
At the same instant he came up.
“May I have the pleasure of the
polka with you, Miss Penroy ?”
And Blanche, defiant, willful and a
little piqued, answered, “ Yes."
She glided away with her hand on
Walter Birmingham’s shoulder. Gilbert
had no business to be so unreasonable.
Jlis grave, ste~n face rather startled
her as she oame once more to the rustic
seat of twisted boughs, when the band
was silent, and Mr. Birmingham had
gone to bring her a glass of iced lem-
onade,
"Gilbert I why do you look so cross?”
" Because I have reason. I am sorry
you pay so little attention to my wishes,
Miss Penroy.”
She drew herself up haughtily.
" You are beginning to dictate early,
sir I"
" Have I not the right?”
“No, Mr. Evering."
"Be it so, Blanche,” he)said, in a
voice that betrayed how deep the arrow
rankled in his bosom. " I give np the
right now and henceforward.”
Blanche was startled. She wonld havo
said more, but Walter Birmingham was
advancing toward- her, and when next
she had leisure to look ronnd Gijbert
was gone from her side.
"What have I donel" she thought,
in dismay. " I’ll see him this evening
and coax him into good hnmor onoe
more. He surely can’t be vexed with
mo for an idle word like that.”
Ah, little Blanche, it is not the well-
oonsidered sentence that does all the
harm in this world—it is the idle word I
" Such a charming day we have had,
Mrs. Traine,” said Blanche, as she oame
in, smiling and radiant, os if the worm,
remorse, was not gnawing at her heart.
" Yes," said the blooming matron, who
was roading in an easy-chair under tho
shadow of the vines. " But what sent
Mr. Evering away in snoh a liurry ?”
" Sent him away ?”
"Yes—by the evening train. He
came borne, packed his things and drove
away as if there was not a moment to
lose. I am very sorry; we shall miss
him so muoh.”
Blanohe wont slowly upstairs and sat
down by her window, looking ont at the
purplo glow of the evening landscape as
if it woro a featureless blank. So he
was really gone away; and by her own
tolly she had lost the priceless treasure
of Gilbert Evering’s lovo.
“And I cannot even write to him, for
I do not know his address,” Bhe thought,
with clasped hands and tearless eyes.
“ Well, it is my own fault, and I must
abido tho consequences as best I may.’
So Blanche Penroy went homo from
the gay, fashionable place a sadder and
a wiser woman, and the Novomber mists
drooping o’or tho brick and mortar
wilderness of her city home had nevov
seemed half so dreary to her as they did
now.
"I suppose I shall be an old maid,”
thought Blanche, walking up and down
in tho fire-lit darkness of her room,
her dimpled hands clasped behind her
waist. “ I never cared for any one as I
carod for—for Gilbert; and I dare say I
shall keep a oat and grow fond of green
tea. Ab, woll-a-day! life cannot last
forever.”
A dreary comfort that for a girl of
nineteen summers.
She rang the bell with an impatient
jerk.
“Are there any letters, Sanderson ?”
“One ma’am; it came by the evening
post, about five minutes ago."
“ Light the gas, then, and give it to
me.”
Blanohe sat down by the fire and
opened the letter, suppressing u yawn.
“ BJack-edged and black-sealed I So
poor Mrs. Marchmont is gone at last!”
It was from the executors of Miss
Penroy’s distant cousin, formally and
briefly announcing her death, which
had taken place in one of the West
India islands some months since; but
of which the “melancholy news,” as the
letter ran, had only just been received.
It was not entirely unexpected, as Mrs.
Marchmont had been for some years
slowly fading out of the world, a vic
tim to hereditary consumption.
“Leaving one child, a son," slowly
repeated Blanche, leaning her cheek on
her hand and looking down into the
fiery quiver of the whitening coals.
“Poor little fellow I he must feel
nearly as desolate as I do! Only I have
one advantage—I have at least a suffi
ciency of this world’s goods; and this
orphan child must bo thrown penniless
and alone on his own resources, for, if I
remember aright, Mrs. Marchmont for
feited all the wealth of her first mar
riage by her second alliance with the
povertv-strioken lawyer whose death
plunged her into such bitter mourning.
That was a genuine love match, yet how
‘ leaving one child—a son 1’ Why
should I not adopt the stray waif, and
make it the business of my life to cher
ish and comfort him ? I have no object
in existence; here is one that Providence
itself seems to point out to me.”
Once more she rang the bell, with
fresh color glowing in her cheeks and a
new light in her eyes.
“Bring in my writing-desk imme
diately, Sanderson, and get ready to
take a letter to the post for me as soon
as possible."
The old servant obeyed, wondering at
his mistress’ unwonted energy, and
yet well pleased to see some of her old
animation returning.
“ She do look more like herself to
night, do Miss Blanche, than she has
for a long time,” he said to the house
keeper as he came downstairs after
obeying the" summons) "I only wish
Miss Blanohe would lake a fanoy to
some nice, properly-behaved young
man; it o’on’t seem right that she should
live all by herself iu this big house, so
forlorn-like."
The housekeeper nodded sagaciously
to old Mr. Sanderson’s proposition.
She folly agreed with him.
“ Only Miss Blanohe was too willful
ever to listen to a word of advice.”
It was a very simple letter 'That
Blanche Penroy wrote to her “for
away" cousin's executors, dictated by
the fnllness of hsf heart.
" I shall never marry now," Bhe
wrote, “and it seems to beoome my
plainly indicated duty to undertake the
oare of this orphan ohild of Mrs. Maroh-
mont. With your approval, therefore,
I propose to adopt him, and endeavor,
so far as is in my power, to snpply the
place of his lost mother. You may at
first deem me rather too young to un
dertake so grave afkd serious a respon
sibility; but I am nineteen last month,
and I am very, very muoh older iu
thought and feeling than in years. Of
course at my death the ohild will in
herit the property whioh was left to mo
by my deceased parents."
“I hope my cousin's executors ore
like the nioe, white-headed old lawyers
one reads about,” said Blanohe to her
self, as she folded the little sheet of
paper, “ and not cross old fudges, talk
ing of 1 expediency ’ and • appropriate
nessfor I do so muoh want somebody
to love and care for; and I’ve a sort of
premonition that this little follow will
be nioe, rosy and lovable. I think I’ll
teach him to call mo ‘Aunty.’"
Exactly a week subsequently a prim,
legal note was received from Messrs.
Alias and Corpus, the deceased lady’s
executors, stating that " they saw no
valid objection to Miss Penroy’g very
laudable projects, and tbat in accord
ance thereto tho obild of the late Mr.
Marchmont wonld arrivo at Miss Pen
roy’s residenco on the following Satur
day."
" Saturday, and this is Friday,” ejacu
lated Blanohe, with the new brightness
dancing in her hazol eyes. “Oh, how
glad I shall be I Sanderson, tell Mrs*.
Brown to have the blue room fitted up
immediately for Master Marchmont,
and you had better go yourself to the
station with the carriage at five to-mor
row afternoon to meet him." 1 ''
,“Yes, ma'am,” said. Sanderson,
stolidly. *
The apparition of a great -unruly boy
tramping with muddy boots on the vel
vet carpets, and disturbing the house
with balls, marbles and taloos, did not
possess the charm in Sanderson’s oyes
that it seomod to have for his mistress.
And even patient Mrs. Brown remarked
with a species of exasperation tbat “she
didn’t see what put this freak into Miss
Blanche’s head ?”
Saturday was a day of hail and temp
est and softly falling snow, and by 6
o’clock the drawing-rooms wore lighted,
and the crimson silk curtains closely
drawn to exclude the stormy darkness
without.
Six times within the last fifteen min
utes had Blance Penroy looked at her
watch, as she stood by the flro waiting
to hear the returning carriage wheels,
She was dressed in a rich Ohina-blue
silk dress with pearl pin and ear drops,
and a little point lace at her throat and
wrists, and the oolor in her cheek, and
the golden tinge in her bright hair
made her, unconsciously, very fair to
look upon.
“Oh, I hope-*-I hope he will like
me,” thought Blanche, with that dis
tinctive yearning for love that enters
every woman’s heart, as the door
opened.
“Here’s the young gentleman, miss,”
said Sanderson, with a half-suppressed
sound between a laugh and a snort.
But instead of a ohild of seven or
eight years old, a tall apparition walked
in, something over six feet high, with a
black mustache, and merry hazel eyes
brimming over with mirth. For an in
stant Blanche stared at him as if she
could soarcely credit the evidence of
her own senses.
“ Gilbert I”
“Exactly. You wanted to adopt rue,
and here I am.”
“No, but, Gilbert—”
"Yes, but, Blanche 1”
“ You are not Mrs. Marchmont’s son 1’
“ I am—by her first marriage. And
although I am by no means the penni
less infant you eeemed to suppose, as all
my father’s wealth comes to me, I am
quite willing to be adopted—particular
ly as you are not married to Walter Bir
mingham.”
Blanche struggled with tears and
laughter, uncertain whioh would best
express her feelings, but Gilbert Ever
ing drew her tenderly toward him.
" If you adopt me, dearest, it must be
lor life. Nay, do not hesitate—bur hap
piness has already been too much at the
mercy of trifles. You will not retract
your offer ?”
“ Well—after all,” said Blanche, de
murely, " all I wanted was somebody to
lovo and care for, and—”
"And I shall do very well in that
capacity, eh ?”
And Sander* p, who had been listen
ing earnestly at the door, crept down
stairs to inform Mrs. Brown that " they
were going to have a new master 1"
About AituerttnlHa.
If you have goods to sell, advertise.
Hire a man with lampblack kettle
and a brush to paint your name and
nnmber on all the railroad fenoes. The
oars go whizzing by so fast that no one
can read them, to be sore, bnt perhaps
the obliging oondnotor would stop the
train to accommodate an inquisitive
passenger.
Remember the fenoes by the road
side as well. Nothing is so attractive
to the passerby as a well painted sign:
"Millington’s medical mixture for
mumps.”
Have your card in the hotel register
by all means. Strangers stopping at the
hotels for a night generally buy a cigar
or two before they leave town, and they
need some inspiriting literary food be
sides.
If an advertising agent wants your
business advertised in a fancy frame at
the depot, pay him about 200 per cent,
more than it is worth, and let him put
it there. When a man has three-quar
ters of a second in which to oatch a
train, he invariably stops to read depot
advertisements, and your card might
tako his eye.
Of oonrso the street thermometer
dodge is excellent. When a man’s
fingers and ears are freezing, or he is
puffing and “phewing ” at tho heat, is
tho time above all others when be reads
an advertisement.
Print in the blackout ink a great
sprawling card on all your wrapping
paper. Ladies returning from a shop
ping tour like to be walking bulletins,
and if the ink ribs off and spoils some
of their finery, no matter. They never
will stop at your store again.
Don’t fail to advertise in every circus
programme. It will help the circus to
pay its bills, and visitors can relieve the
tedium of the clown’s jokes by looking
over yotir interesting remarks about
" twenty per cent, below cost," etc.
A boy with a big placard on a pole is
an interesting object on tho street, and
lends a dignified air to your establish
ment. Hire about two.
Patronize every agent that shows you
an advertising tablet, card, directory,
dictionary or oven an advertising Bible
if one is offered at a reasonable price.
Tho man must make a living.
But don’t think of advertising in a
well-established, legitimate newspaper.
Not for a moment. Your advertisement
would bo nicely printed and would find
its way into all the thrifty households
of the region, where the farmer, tho
mechanic, the tradesman in other lines
and into the families of tlio wealthy and
refined, all who have articles to bnyaud
money with which to buy them, and in
tho quiet of the evening nfter tho news
of tho day had been digested, it wonld
be road and pondered, and next day
people would come down to your store
and patronize you, and keep coming in
increasing numbers, and you might
havo to hire an extra clerk or two, move
into a larger block and more favorablo
location and do a bigger business, but
of course it would be more expensive—
and bring greater profits.
Bounii to fSet Harriett.
The story of a romantic ohase, in
which two young lovers and an irate
pursuer figure conspicuously, comes
from Kentucky. Joseph Carpenter and
Oilie Brown, a lass of fourteen, havo
made one or two attempts to elope, the
girl’s parents, who live iu Scottsvillo,
about fifteen miles from the Tennessee
line, having opposed the marriage of
the young people. A few days ago,
however, their love affairs reached a
climax. Yonng Carpenter drove to the
house of his sweetheart in a buggy, and
pleaded as only an anxious lover oan,
with the mother of the girl, who proved
as obdurate as ever. Nothing daunted,
he asked the girl to choose between
himself and her mother. Her answer
was all ho could desire, and “ catching
her in his arms,” as the chronicler re
ports, he leaped into the carriage and
drove off. The alarm was raised and a
y oung justice of a police oourt, mounted
on a fleet thoroughbred, started off in
pursuit of the runaway pair. The race
waB a hot one, and now fortune seemed
to favor the lovers and now the arm of
the law. The Western Lochinvar had
provided himself with a good horse,
and he reached the Tennessee line a few
minutes before the justice. A town
was reached. ’Squire Fikes was hastily
summoned; the knot was almost tied,
when, alas, up rode the horseman, hot
and angry, and forbade the marriage.
The prudent ’squire hesitated, and
while he was pondering over the case
the young people slipped away and
started in hot haste for Gallatin. The
justice was after them with equal speed
but bis horse threw a shoe and he suc
cumbed to fate. He arrived, however,
in season to congratulate the couple
with the best grace possible a few min
utes after they were married at the prin
cipal hotel of the village, in the pres
ence of some " specially invited gusts.”
Sitting Bull is forty-four years qld,
has two wives and seven'children.
FO* TltlC I, A OIKS.
An Antlllni Fact.
Mrs. Lucy Stone Blackwell talks
plainly to tho ladies. She says "the
waste of time, the waste of strength
and tho waste of health whioh women
aocept on account of fashion is appall
ing. The shoes of women have pegs
for heels, half way under the foot, on
which they walk with a tottering, hob
bling gait, like Chinese women. Frills,
fringes, cords, straps, buttons, pull
backs and flounces, supposed to .be or
namental, bnt which have no other use,
burden and deform even our yonng girls.
If the rising generation is to be healthy,
there must be a return to the simpler as
well as more becoming styles. We need
artists who oan devise simple and beau
tiful dresses, whioh shall seenre to the
wearer the free and untrammeled nse of
the whole body.”
NOTICE.
it
*WA11 communications intended far this pa
per mast be accompanied with the fall name 0|
tho writer, not necessarily for publication, bat
as a guarantee ot good faith.
We are in no way responsible ft* the views m
indoions of correspondents.
Healthy Pink.
A correspondent in Sootland writes:
We were greeted by really cold weather
in Sootland, and wore onr winter flan
nels and overooats with great comfort.
Tho people seemed to retain their
winter toggery all the time, for I saw
few stores anywhere for the sale of light
fleeces pertaining to the summer months.
The belles of the peninsula wore lints of
brigandish pattern, composed of black
velvet piled high npon the bead and
biding the "bang” in front. I find tbe
proverbial beauty of American women
verified. If you are a travelor you ma
here and there find really handsome na
tive women, Sootoh, or English, or Irish,
may be; bnt, if it were America, it would
be in ten times as often. In this I do
not speak of any provincial or national
typo (whioh might bo a matter of con
troversy), bnt in the legitimate classic
sense, of mere oomelinoss of outline.
Iu this sense I suppose there are more
American beauties than English beauties
on tho soil of this island at this moment.
But in color the English infinitely sur
pass us. Never before did I behold faces
so full of a healthy pink. On the little
Looh Lomond steamer, shadowed by tho
heights of Ben Lomond and the crags
of Rhoderick Dhu, in house doors,
where we catch fleeting glimpsos, on the
railway trains, in tho fashionable drives
of Hyde pork, and in tho lmmble skip
pers called "steamboats,” on tho
Thames—everywhere they carry at leant
the colors of loveliness.
New* nml Niiim far Women.
A barber shop at Jackson, Mich., lias
four girl apprentices.
Marian Harland, the novelist, is ilie
wife of a doctor of divinity.
The late czar was the first sovereign
under whom women were freely allowed
to practice mediciuo in Europe.
Three Newport (R. I.) belles, now
married, were onco known in society
as “Battle,” “Murder," and "Sudden
Death”—their names indicating their
style of conquest.
The Princess Bismarck, who has
horses and carriages enough for a regi
ment, took a fancy to drive in the streets
of Berlin in a “ growler” the other day,
and left her diamond brooch in it.
There is a twolve-year-old girl in
Rowan county, N. G , that is four feet
eight inches high, and measures four
feet four inches around tho waist, and
four feet two inches across the shoul
ders.
A New York bachelor makes the per
tinent and rather novel suggestion that
a number of thrifty women might put
themselves in the way of a fortune by
opening a shop for mending men’s
clothing, sewing on buttons, etc.
One of the boats on Ohatauqua lake
is piloted by a handsome woman. It is
said that sl}e never fails to excite the
admiration of the boys as she skillfully
guides the oraft through the tortuous
Jamestown inlet.—Geneva Advertiser.
It is stated that an Albany shoe fac
tory received a diagram of a girl’s foot
from Sandusky, Ohio. The girl placed
her bare foot upon a sheet of paper, and
a pencil-mark was drawn close around
the outline. This foot, as shown by the
diagram, is exactly seventeen inches
long, 7 3-8 inches wide at the widest
part, and oould take a No. 26 boot,
though a No. 30 would be just the
thing. The ball of the foot is nineteen
inches around, instep 18 1-2 inohes, and
the heel measures twenty-two inohes.
The ankle measures 161-2 inches.
This imne ense pedal adorns the person
of Miss Mary Wells, of Sandusky, Ohi o
whose weight is 160 pounds, and she is
but seventeen years old. The diagram
was sent to the manufacturer as a curi
osity.
Fashion Notes.
Copper-red and yellow-green with a
tinsel thread or two make up one rather
showy combination for the autumn.'
Small velvet mantillas will be worn
this fall.
Oorded stripes aro among the coming
novelties in silks.
Shirred gatherings are muoh used
when the fabrics are fine and supple.
Stamped satins in varied designs are
among the early autumn .importations.
Black crocheted trimmings, both flat
designs and^ cords, will be mu^ worn
next winter. The cords are almost as
big as cables.
Black velvet bracelets fastened by
tiny buckles, of 'old French paste are
again fashionably worn with delicate
evening dresses.
Plaid velvets in Madras colors appear
in the autumn trimmings. They are
to be used but sparingly, and employed
either on black or dark dresses.
The designs of some of the new bro
caded gauzes, which oome in colors of
oiel-blue, corn And sea-shell pink, are
outlined with fine threads of silver or
gold.
Spanish jewelry, showing large leaves
and flowers tinted in oolors of pale pink
and emerald green, and studded with
fine sparking gems, is just now in great
demand.
Mauve-tinted Spanish lace bonnets
are trimmed with short white ostrich
tips, powdered with gold, and pale pink
roses held by large gold bookies set
with pearls.
The Batin pipings whioh were intro
duced into gimps last year are nowjosed
to make entire trimmings, being fash
ioned into numborless designs, and even
into fringes tipped with satin balls.
There is little hope for emancipation
from beads, either upon bonnets or
gawns, next winter. They aro ooming
again in blue, green, yellow and red, in
solid masses and in shaded oolors and
in jet.
Large buokles of Irish diamonds are
muoh used on white and tinted silk
evening dresses. They fasten the bows
of satin on the shoulders, and hold the
scarf drapery in place on the sides of
the dress.
Stripes of brooade on a watered
ground are seen in the pewest stuffs for
evening dresses. Tho pattern of the
brooade may bo lilies or sunflowers or
hollyhocks, or the smaller blossoms of
ordinary brooade.
A great deal of gold thread forms
part of the textnro of the new woolen
stuffs. It is Introduced in suoh a way
as to form a stripe whioh is sometimes
barely perceptible, and sometimes
forms a wide, bright bar.
The agrafe, highly-polished hooks
and eyes, in steel, gilt or jet are used
to fasten tho front of oorsages; small
hooks and eyes underneath, or con
cealed buttons, are necessary to hold
the waist in perfect shape.
There is nothing new in the new
French fashion plates that have oome
ovor hero for the autumn, ppoept that
tho ends of the pelerine cape are passed
under tho vest piece wliicji extends
from tho throat to the lower edge of the
polonaise. This vest is to be of a
striped staff made up crosswiso.
Four kinds of striped silks are shown
in New York for the autumn, according
to the Bazar. Ono has watered and
satin stripes two inohes wide in the
sameeolor, a second in contrasting hues,
a third in different shades of the came
color. The fourth variety has stripes
of black satin and white watered silk.
Manilla in All Aa*».
When William, the stout Duke of
Burgundy, saw his fair aud haughty
cousin, the Princess Matilda, riding by,
ho was instantly smitten with the pangs
of love. Bnt Matilda, like a true wo
man, refused to accept the homage of
the eye. When the bold wooer rushed
forward and kissed her before the whole
train—she was won. History is full of
instances of the conquering prowess of
the kiss. When Walter Raleigh received
back his Boiled jacket from the capri
cious queen, the kiss implanted on the
spot where her foot rested gained him
the favor that years of sighing and de
votion had not won the handsome,
proud Leicester. When the poor stu
dent in Nuremburg fell on bis knees
and avowed to the royal princess that
he had wagered with his companions
that she would kiss him in the public
place, the guerdon of his temerity was
the presentation of this royal Gretchen’s
rosy lips, and the smack resounded in
the ears of the whole eorps of stupefied
young reprobates. It is depriving
womanhood of half its joy and all its
mastery to remit the kiss. It should
be taught to boys with their first pis
toi. It should be made the subject of
prizes at sobools. Mothers should en
courage it, daughters should practice
it—on their brothers—and no man
should be considered eligible who can
not kiss in all the moods and tenses.
The poetic side of the question has
been merely touched here. The prac
tical opens np a field too exhaustive for
present treatment, but it need only be
suggested that kissing properly encour
aged would be a means of enforoing
temperance, since neither cioffee, beans
nor peppermint could disguise from a
well-grounded maiden the flavor of such
tipple as might have defiled the mascu
line lips.—Philadelphia Times.
" Polly,” said a lady to her servant,
" I wish you would step oyer and see
how old Mrs. Jones is this morning.’
In a few minutes Polly returned with
the information that Mrs. Jones was
seventy-two years, seven months and
twenty-eight days old.