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THU MERCURY. ^s"i,t:5*i.;»“” 9,u*rsvlllr, W«llllllst»« Cunt,, (fe. HTBMHHKn ni a. J. JERNIGAN, PBOFBOnOB AND PuDLUHKR. gaincriptkn .11.60 twrT«r. the mercury. DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 81.60 PER ANNUM. VOL. II. SANDER8VILLE. GA., SEPTEMBER 27, 1881. AND JEWELRY REPAIRS!) BY JEBNIdAN BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles FROM JERNIGAN. Mono geutiine without our Trade Mark. On hand And for sale, SrtclBS, Nose Glasses, Eli; Music! Music -GO TO- JERNIGAN -FOll BOWS, STRINGS, ROSIN BOXES, &«» Machine Needles Oil and Shuttles TOP. ALT, KTNDS OF MACHINES, for salo I will aluo ordor part* of Maohines that got bruko.n, for whioh new pioeoa Are wanted. A. J. JERNIGAN. E. A. SULLIVAN, NOTARY PUBLIC, HAN DERS VILLE, QA. Special attontlon giren to the collection o 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, •’ourts. Oflico in Court-houao. H. N. HOLLIFIELD, Physician and. Surgeon, Handersville, Ga. Aifiktf Mre - Bftyne ' 8m,Uin9ry G. W. H. WHITAKER, DENTIST, HANDERSVILLE, GA. I«st8 Cash. "Hieo at his Rosldtaee, on Harris Strcot. • v Pnl 3, 1880. B. D. EVANS, Attorney at Law, SANDERSVILLE, GA. A l>nl 3,1880. _ MILLIONS OF PLANTS! 5,iil>t)ii.ffo $2.00 and Cole ry 13.60per 1000 '•y express. Larger •I unn titles at still low er rates. Send for free <•1 routers. Address. Tlllluirhmit LaPlnme, Lac. Co. Pa. ^ V’urost and Best Medlclno erer JUdo. driikle^nlfn' 1 of . S°P B » ■uchu, Man- ae and Dandelion, with all the best anil 1 ura tivo properties of all other Bitters, Reau V ereat "*t Blood Purifier, Liver * O ‘ \dtor, ami Lite and Health ltostoring earth. »H3ll»ly long exist where ITop °peraUoiiH u ° '*» o0 vwiod hud perfect arc their C-"o nc 77 lrfclfo and vigor to tbs age land infirm, tyofl! 1 '' h,, * <0 ommplojmeiitBcause irr'urtilari- rm.i c,,OW( lsor\urhiary organs, or who ro- Appetizer^k Tonic anti mild Stimulant, «invai^^iable, without IntOX" , wnntyour foVellngs or symptoms ; “! iU ls > - r ail\ment is use Hdp Bit- only f ( . t jV, w l ,uL uut HjouaMre sick but If you H in . v . a . ,,r able,muse them at once. yourlifc.ithas* 8 aved hundreds, r-.. r>«l,I for a else they will not ' • 1Jo “<>t suffer \A or let your friends id urge them\ to i»oo Hop B . ,CI ’ fitters Jh no^vilo, drugged A Kent RUlrou.. ,. J J «P Bitter •eating. '■ 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.