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*v3 F* ' ?.; " ' , ^tZlU'K b&? :'&L THE ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER" v .1 :< > . * > 1 \ 'f *' - '* ' ' n . " i? ^ ' / ; ' k.1 ii *'**' ,; >. "' ** ,i?1 BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1876. VOLUME XXIV.?NO. 31. * -p* ?^?????: ? ? ???? i ?? ^ _ i The Model Church. Well, wife, I found a model church! I worshiped there to day ! It made me think of good old times, before my head was gray ; The meetin' house was fixed np more than they were years ago, But then I felt when I went in, it wasn't all built for show. The sexton didn't seat me away back by the door ; ' He know that I was old aud deaf, as well as old and poor; He must have been a Christian, beoause he led me through The long aisles of that crowded ohnrch, to find a place and pew. I wish you'd heard the singing, it had the oldtime ring, The preacher said, with a trumpet voioe: * "4et all the people sing !" The tune was " Coronation," and the music upward rolled, Till I thought I ?trd the angels striking all their harpe of gold. I My deafness seemed to melt away, my spirit j caught the fire ; I joined my feeble, trembling voice with that melodious choir, And fcung, as in my younger days, " Let an- ( gels prostrate fall ; Bring forth the royal diadem, and crown Him ] Lord of alL" I tell you, wife, it did me good to eiag that J song once more ; j I felt like some wrecked mariner, who gets a glimpse of shore ; I almost wanted to lay down this weather ( beaten form, 1 And anchor in the blessed port forever from i the sWjrm. The preachin'? Well, I just can't tell you all that the preacher taid ; I know it wasn't written ; I know it wa-n't read; He hadn't time to read it, for the lightnin' of ; hie eye Went flashing 'long from pew to pew, nor passed a sinner by. The sermon wasn't flowery; 'twas simple Gospel truth ; It fitted poor old men like me ; it fitted hopeful yocth ; . 'Tw&a fi 11 of ooubolaticn for weary hearts that bleed, 'Twas full of invitation to Christ, and not to i creed. The preacher made sin hideous in Gentiles , and in Jews ; ( He eh3t the golden sentences down in the ( finest pews; And?though I oan't see very well?I saw the ; falling tear 1 That told me hell was some ways off, and heaven very near. ! How swift the golden moments fied within J that holy place ; How beautiful beamed the light of heaven , from ?very happy faoe; , Again I longed for thai sweet time when friend | shall meet with friend, < " When congregations ne'er break up, and l Sabbath has no end." I hope to meet that minister?that congrega- ' tion, too? ( In the rfoar home beyond the stars that shine f fiom heaven's bine ; j I donbt not I'll remember, beyond life's even- ] ing gray, j The happy honr of worship in that model church to-day. Dear wife, tbe fight will soon be foaght, the { victory be won ; ( The ehinin' goal is just ahead, the race is , nearly run ; O'er tbe river we are nearing they are thronging to the shore, i Toahout our safe arrival where the weary i weep no more. < MISS HARPER'S MAID. After the last voyage but one, the good phip of which I was first officer went into dock for a thorough refitting, i and I had a longer speli at home than I : liad enjoyed for many years. I would not change this way of life for any in the world; but I was glad for once to stretch i my legs fairly on dry land, and see something of green fields, brick and mortar, and my shore going friends in the neighborhood of Canterbury. i Amoug the families in which I was most intimate was that of a Mr. Harper. He had made a comfortable fortune by trade, and now was enjoying his otium cum dignilate in a good house on the i outf-kirts of the city. An only daughter >. kept house for him; for he was a wid- i ower. Now Julia Harper, when I first i knew hey, was a fine, handsome girl of 1 two and-twenty; tall, well made, but on i rather a large scale, with bright, restless i eyes, and a profusion of dark hair. She had a great many admirers, some of I whom, there is every reason to suppose, 1 admired tho old gentleman's money as much as the young lady's eyes, but they .< met with no great enoouragement. : I often met with Julia at the house of <. mutual friends. I certainly liked the i girl; a^d my vanity was flattered, be- < cause, with so many admirers around 1 her, she phowecT me, as I thought, a de- : cided preference. She seemed to be never tirei of talking about the sea. j She wearied me with questions about it; i and on moie than one occasion said? ] very unguardedly?that she thought a I voyage to India would be th9 most de- 1 lightful thing in the world. Of course, 1 I madt> fitting answer, that with a congenial companion, a voyage anywhere 1 would be delightful; and, more than { once, opportunity being favorable, I was 1 on tho point of declaring myself, when i an into rnal qualm of conscience arrested < the dangerous avowal. t Affairs were in this state, when an ac- s Knfal) mo HvrvnrrVif moffura c I'lUCUl1 UOlfcH U1W TTAtAVu VMgjUV ?JUH?W?U . to a crisis. There was a ateeplecba.se one day in the neighborhood of Canterbury, which I attended on foot. Doriug i t -e ex utement of the race, I attempted i a difficult cut across the country, failed 1 at a leap which was beyond my powers, ] and had the misfortune to sprain my 1 ankle. The injury was a very severe 1 one, and I was laid up for many weeks i in my lodgings. You have often laugh- ! ed at me for taking everything so coolly, i I assure you that I did not take this i ooolly at all. I chafed, indeed, like a i lion in the toils; and was continually arresting the progress of my recovery by putting?in spite of repeated prohibi- I tions?the crippled member to the ground. At last, I begun to learn a I little philosophy, and resigned myself 1 to the sofa with a groan. The loss of my liberty was bad enough; j but the loss of Julia's society was a i hundred times worse. Here father came j often to see me. and brought me kind ! messages from his daughter ; but, if 111 had no more substantial consolations, 1. I believe that I should have gone 11 triad. Julia -lid not actually come i to me ; but she wrote me repeated notes of inquiry, and often sent me flowers : and looks, and other tokens of womanly kindness. The messenger employed on i these oocasions was Miss Harper's maid, i bhe was generally enjoined to deliver 1 tho letters and parcels into my own i hands, and sometimes to wait for an 1 answer. She came, therefore, into my i drawing-room, and if she had occasion 1 to wait, I would always desire her to be 1 seated. The girl's name was Rachel. < She might have been old, or ugly, or deformed, for* anything I cared, or, indeed, that I knew about her. I had a dim consciousness that she had a very pleasant manner of speaking; but I give you my word that, after she had been half a dozen times into my room, I should not have known her if I had met her in the streets : I regarded her only as an appendage to the fair Julia, whose image was ever before my eyes, shutting out all else from my view. This, however, did not last forever. It happened one day that when Rachel brought me a parcel, I?in my loverlike enthusiasm?started up from the sofa, and incautiously planted my injured foot on the ground. The result was a spasm of such acute pain that I fell back upon my couch with an involuntary cry, and a face as colorless as marble. Rachel immediately stepped forward ; and, with a cordial expression of sympathy, asked if 6he could do anything for me, and proceeded, with a light, gentle Hand to arrange tne pmows under my crippled limb. I felt very grateful for these ministrations, and as I gave utteranoe to my gratitude, I looked for the first time inquiringly into Rachel's face. I thought that, altogether, she was a yery pretty girl, and, moreover, a very genteel one. I observed now what I bad never observed?indeed, had had no opportunity of observing-rthat she bad a charming little figure. Her shawl had fallen off while she was arranging my pillows, so that I could see her delicate waist and the graceful outline of her lightsome Torm. I was interested in her now for the first time ; and was sorry when she took her departure, with the expression of hope that I might not suffer further inconvenience. I hoped that she would c?ne again on the following day, and I was not disappointed. She came with a note and a bouquet from Jnlia; bnt before deliver iog either she inquired after me with? what I thought?genuine concern. I answered kindly and gratefully; and before opening her mistress' note asked her several questions, and drew her into AnnT-flfnoUnn Tlio mnro T Ufltunf hpr f.hft better I liked her. She was at first a little reserved?perhaps embarrassed? but after a few more visits this wore off, and there was a quiet self-possession about her which pleased me mightily. I could not get rid of the impression that she was something better than her social position seemed to indicate; at all events, she was very much unlike all the waiting maids I had ever 6een. I soon begun to delight in her visits. She came almost every day with some letter or message from her mistress. I looked forward to the time of her coming, and felt duller when she was gone. I thought that it wonld be delightful to have such a handmaiden always about tne, to smooth my pillow and bring me my meals, and talk to me when she had Dothing better to do. I was interested in Rachel, and enjoysd her visits ; but, believing still in Julia Harper's fidelity, I was faithful to the core myself. But circumstances soon Dccurred which shook my fafth, and then mv love beeun to dwindle. Rachel brought me a note ona day, ind a parcel containing a pair of worsted work slippers, which her mistress said she hoped I would wear for her nake until I was able to leave my room. 3he did not actually say, but she implied that she had worked them for me herself. When I said something to Rachel about the time and trouble Miss Harper?I never said " your mistress " now?must have expended on them, I observed a very curious and significant expression on the girl's face. I had observed it once or twice before, when I bad said something indicative of my confidence in Julia's sinoerity. It was an expression partly of pity?partly of disgust; and seemed to be attended, for I could see the compressnre of her little mouth, with a painful (ffort to repress the utterance of something that was orcing its way to her lips. I was thinking what this could mean, when a piece of folded paper fell from the parcel; I picked it up, and found it was a bill?a bill for my slippers, which Miss Harper bad bought. I knew now the meaning i f the look. Rachel saw that I had got a glimmering of the truth, andlthonght that she seemed more happy. OlltJ UttU WlOiJUU Uio guuu JXll/XJXIXIg, and was aboat to depart, but I told her that I could not suffer her to go. It was altogether a deplorable day, what we call in the log squally. There was i great deal of wind?a grent deal of rain; and just at this moment the latter was coming down in torrents. After =}ome persuasion she consented to remain. Then I asked her if she would :lo something for me; and, with a bright iaiile, she answered : "Yes." I had a new silk neckcloth waiting on the table to be hemmed. She took it up, and then turning to me, asked naively how *iie was to nem it witnout neeaie ana bread. To this question?for which I was well prepared?I replied that in rhe other table drawer she would find something containing both. She marched, and found a very pretty Russian leather case, silver mounted, with ill the appliances a seamstress could desire. Then I begged her acceptance of it?said that I had ordered it to be made >n purpose for her use, and that I should lie bitterly disappointed if she did not iccept of it. And she did accept it with mdisguised pleasure. And a very pleasant thing it was to lie on the sofa, ind watch her neat little white hands plying the needle in my behalf. 1 had seen longiDg to see-the hand without :he glcve, and I was abundantly satisied when I saw it. She had hemmed one side of the hsndlerchief, and we had conversed on a jreat variety of topics, when the weather segan to clear up, and the sun to shine !n at the windows. Rachel rose at >nce to depart. I 6aid that I was quite rare it must be dreadfully wet under foot, md that I was ccrtain she was thinly shod. " Not very," she said. But I insisted on satisfying myself, and would not be content until she had suffered to peep out beneath the hem of her cown one of the nenfcenfc littln nntpmt. leather slippers I hail ever seen in my life. I said that they were very dainty little things, but altogether fine weather 3hoes, and not meant for wet decks. Bnt I remembered presently that I had seen in her hand, when she entered the room, a pair of India rubber overshoes, md I reminded her of them. "They are my mistress1she said; " I had been desired to fetch them from the shop." " Wear them," I said, " all the same ?they will be none the worse, and will keep your little feet dry." " But how can I ?" she answered, with a smile ; " they will not fit mo at all." " Too small ?" I said, laughing. " Yes, sir," she said, with another smile, even more charming than the first. I told her that I should not be satisfied until I had decided that point myself, and at last I persuaded her to try. The little rogue knew well the result. Her feet were quite lost in them. If I have a weakness in the worid, my ^ood fellow, it is in favor of pretty feet ind ankles ; so, when Rachel insisted on taking her departure, 1 hobbled as well ] ? I could to the window to see her pick tier way across the mud puddles. I satisfied myself that the girl's ankles were as undeniable as her feet; and she seas unequivocally bien chauasee. I jould not help thinking of this long after she was gone. And then it occurred to me that Julia Harper was certainly on a rather large scale. She had a good figure of its kind, and she had fine eyes; but Rachel's were quite as bright and much softer; and as for all the essentials of graoeful and feminine figure, the mistress' was far inferior to the maid's. I kept thinking of this all the evening, and after I had gone to bed. And I thought, too, of the very unpleasant specimen of Julia's insincerity whioh had betrayed itself in the case of the slippers. The next day was an auspicious one. Looking prettier than ever, Rachel camp with a note from her mistress. I was in no hurry to open it, you may be sure, I asked Rachel a great number of questions, and was especially solicitous on the score of wet feet, which I feared had been the result of her last homeward voyage from my lodgings. She had by this time habituated herself to talk to me in a much more free and unembarrassed manner than when first she came ' to my apartments; and the more she : talked to me the more charmed 1 was ; ; for she expressed herself so well, had , such a pleasant voice and delivered snch , sensible opinions, that I soon began to think that the mental qualifications of the mistress (none of the highest be it ; paid) were by no means superior to those ' of We maid. Indeed, to tell the truth, ! my good fellow, I was falling in love ; with little Rachel as fast as I possibly j could. j This day, indeed preoipitated the crisis. We had talked some time to gether, when Rachel reminded me (I ( mougnc mac mere waa an tjiprecxaiuu ui mock reproachfulness the little round face) that I had not read in her mistress' letter. I opened it in a careless manner; and had no sooner read the first line than I bnrst out into loud laughter. "Bravo, Rachel," I exclaimed. "You are a nice little messenger, indeed, to carry a young lady's billets doux. You have given me a wroDg letter." She took up the envelope, which had fallen to the ground, and showed me that it was directed to "Edward Bloxham, Esq." " All the better, Rachel," I said; " but this begins, 'I am am so delighted, my dear Captain Cox'? Hurrah, for the envelopes!" I looked into Rachel's face. It was not easy to read the expression of it. First she seemed inclined to laugh?then to cry. Then she blushed up to the very roots of her hair. She was evidently in a state of incertitude and confusion?puzzled what course to pursue. I folded up the letter, placed it in another envelope?not having, of course, read another word of its contents. What was the cause of Julia's excessive delight I am not aware up to this moment; but I could not help asking Rachel something about Captain Cox. One question led to another. Rachel hesi tated at first; but at last, with faltering ? voice and tearful face, told me the whole , truth. She said that she had felt her- f self for some time in a very painful and j embarrassing situatjpn. She recognized f her duty to her mistress, who had been ( kind and indulgent to her?but she f could not help sfeeing that much which fc had been done was extremely wroDg. ] She had all along been a?hamed of the f duty on which she was employed, and f had more than once hinted her disap- t probation ; but had been only laughed j at as a prude. She had often reproached j herself for being a party to the fraud , which had been practiced on me. She , had not at first fathomed the whole <; QTfont nf if linf nnu7 nlifl Unpwhnw had i a matter it was. The troth was, that Miss Harper had for some time been carrying on something more than a flirtation with Captain Cox. But her father disliked the man, who, though very handsome and agreeable, bore anything but a good character?and, therefore, Julia had acted cautiously and guardedly in the matter, and had feigned an indifference which had deceived Mr. Harper. When I first came to anchor at Canterbury, Captain Cox was on " leave of absence;" and, as he had gone away without making a declaration, it had appeared to Julia that an overt flirtation with me in the captain's absence?something that would certainly r ach his oars ?might stimulate him to greater activity, and elicit an uuretractable avowal. Her flirtation with me wan intended, also, to impress on Mr. Harper's mind the conviction that she was really attached to me, and he ceased, therefore, to trouble himself about Captain Cox. He liked me, and he enoouraged mo, on purpose that tho odious captain might be thrown into the shade. Such wus the state of affairs at tho outstt of Julia's flirtation with me. But Rachel assured me that I really had made atr impression on the young lady's heart, though sho had not bv anv means given rip the gallant captain. t I wked Rachel how this could be? ^ how it was possible that any heart conld ? bear two impressious at the same time, ' She Baid that 6he supposed some im- ^ presjions were not as deep and inefface- v able as others. At all events, she be- c lieved that to Mirs Harper it was a mat- r ter of no very vital concernment whether e she married Captain Cox or Mr. Blox- r ham; but that she was determined to t have one or other. The fact is, the girl h was plajing a double game, and deoeiv- c ing both of us. All this was very clear t to me from Rachel's storj. But she told me it was her own belief, that Julia would determine on taking me, after all ?and that for the very excellent reason that Captain Cox was engaged else- T where. At least, that was the story in I the town since his return to barracks. c Poor Rachel shed a great many tears | while she was teding me all this. She f1 said that, having betrayed her mistress, she could not think of remaining with c her. She was decidod on this point. D With warm expressions of gratitude, I 8 took her little hand in mine, and said that I would be her friend?that she had done me an inestimablo service?that 1 was glad to be undeceived?that the little incident of the deception of the slippers had shaken my belief in Miss Harper's truth, that altogether my opinions had changed, and that I knew there were worthier objects cf affection. Then I spoke of her own position ?said that of course her determination whs right?but that she would confer a ' very great favor on me if she would do nothing until she saw me again. This she readily promised; and it was agreed that on the following day, which was Sunday, she should call o-i me during afternoon service. I pre6Bed her hand warmly when I wished her good-bye. I She came at the appointed hour, looking prettier and more ladylike thau ever. She was extremely well dressed. I shook hands with her and ask el her to seat herself upon the couch beside me; i ana men asaeuner, laugningiy: wcat I news of Captain Cox?" She 6aid there \ was not the least doubt that Captain i Cox was engaged to bo married to a * lady in London ; and that Miss Harper, J on the preceding evening, not before, liad been made acquainted with the fact. I then a^ked Rachel what the yonng a lady had said on receiving back her let- a ter to the captain : and learned that sl'e g had been greatly excited by the dii- i covery, and had been very eager to as- c certain how much of the letter I had read. When Bachel told her that I had read only the words: "I am so de- t lighted, my dear Captain Cox," p.ha -s somewhat recovered her spirits, but this j morning the had pleaded illness as an c excuse for not coming down to breakfast, and had not sinoe left her room. There was at this time lying unopened on my table a note from Miss Harper, whioh had been brought by her father, an hour before. I asked Rachel to give it to me, saying: "Now, let us see, Baohel, whether any new light is thrown upon the subject. I think her hand trembled when she gave it to me. I opened and read : "My Deab Mr. Blqxham : Very many thanks to you for your promptitude in returning the note, whioh, stupid little bnngler that I am " (" Not so very little, is she, Rachel ?" I paused to remark) "I sent you by mistake?I am very glad that I had not sent the other to Oapt. Oox?for, although it does not much matter if one's letters to one's acquaintance falls into the hands of one's mends, it is not at all pleasant if one's letters to one's friends fall into the hands of one's acquaintance. I wrote to Oapt. Oox only to tell him how : delighted I was to hear of his engagement?for he is going to be married to a \ Miss Fitz Smythe?a very ladylike girl who was spending some time here with the Maurices, and was really quite a friend Oi my own." I had not patienoe to read any more. ! I knew it to be all a lie. So I tossed the letter into the middle of the room, and ! said: "We have had enough of that." [ was ineffably disgusted. One thing, i however, was certain, that Julia Harper was now to be had by me for the ask- ; ing. I had other views for my humble self. Rajhel, I found, on inquiry, was the 1 ? ' ^ * - ?? T7i 1?? laugnrer 01 u mrn. riiunuaw, mo muun jf an offioer. The -widow's means of ' subsistence were slight, and her daughter -had obtained a situation as, what people called, Miss Harper's maid. My good fellow, I can hardly tell you jvhat happened after this. I have a contused re. ollection of having looked inquiringly into Rachel's face; read whole jnapters of love in it; then threw my irms round her waist, pressed her fondly ;o my bosom, and, while I untied her sonnet strings and removed the obtruiive covering from her head, said to her: " We sailors have all been sworn never ;o kiss the maid when we can kiss the nistress?unless we like the maid better ;han the mistress, and Heaven knows iow much I do I" After the lapse of two or three weeks, ind very delightful veeks they were, too, Rachel Ernshaw became Rachel Bloxham, and I the happiest husband a the world. I have got the very best if little wives, and never, I assure you, 'or one-moment, though we have little mough to live upon, and I cannot bear ihese long separations, have I deplored ;he Iobs of Miss Harper. A French Execution. 'Twas the doomed man. He was tall ind thin. He is stiff in his bearing, and yalks very slowly. His haggard eye is ' ^ il-- caoa lieu CU lLit) ^uiiiuuuc, vrjjuuu uu dvw j or the first time. His face seems to relect some object of an earthy, yellow :olor. One of the executioner's as- ( istants removes the jacket from his * ihoulders. The upper part of hie shirt las been cut off, and his bare breast and ihoulders were visible. The executioner 1 leized him by the loft arm-pit. An as- t ;i6tant exeoutioner seized him by the 1 ight arm-pit. Another assistant pushed aim him from behind. A third assistant vent rapidly by us and stood near the roke which keeps the head motionless, i rhe doomed man tottered as he came , 'orward. He said to the assistant who ( rushed him : " Not so fast!" but his ] mno eft-aiming fnr llA hftd no I I UIV^U n<U3 OVXMU^4VV?} ?w>. mm'w . saliva in his mouth. He reach the icaffold. Its vertical plank came nearly lp to the hollow of his breast. The issistants pushed the plank, which from ^rfcical became horizontal, tripped up :he doomed man, who fell on it horisontallv, his abdomen next the plank. 3e tried to rise by exerting knees and trms. He murmured some inarticulate vordB. The esecutiouer aud two as(istantfl pushed him violently forward, so as to bring his head immediately unler tho yoke. Tho doomed man muriave felt the sensation of a person who" alls down an abyss. Th < executioner )ends forward to see if the neck is in jroper position. His assistant lets the roke fall on tho (^oomad man's head. Chis yoke imprisons the head as if the Toke were in a vise. The doomed man nust have felt this fall distinctly. It nust be as if he were twice executed. LU this took time. I counted my pulse; t beat four times wliile this was taking ilace. This ia long. The executioner aised a little lever. The knife fell. It .ould bo followed as it fell. It attained ts greatest velocity only at the close of j he fall. The head bounced into a zinc fi >ox. It seemed to mo I could see, as ^ he knife fell with an indistinct rumble, \ he doomed man's soul tako flight. The ? leadless corpse is tossed by the as- a istants into the-basket, where it lies on fl ts back. Tho executioner wheels on j lis right foot and turns his face toward r is, his btick to the scaffold. He indi- r ates by this final movement, which he tever fails to make, that once tho crimi- r lal beheaded his part is at an end. The f est is his assistants' business. One of ] hem shook the zino box to make the [ lead fall into the basket. I saw it roll c iver and over like a ball in the bloody i >ran. I staggered and shut my eyes. f Facts in Figures. I c Mr. George Blair, president of the vorkingmen's assembly in the State of Joto Ynrk n?hri in \fa1i infnrmpf] nn this question, and whose opinion may be aken as honestly given, has furnished he data from which the following tabuar statement was prepared. It forms a :learer idea of the precise condition of iffairs among the working classes than my words of description or argument: Ought Out of to be at Trade Union*. Work. Work. Itair builders and carpenters 4,0G0 7,000 jaborers G,000 14,000 Jricklayors 2,000 2,400 itonecutters 1,000 1,60j 'luRtcrerB 1,200 1,800 Itonemaaons 400 400 "ainters 1,000 1,600 ron workers and molderp 1,500 2,200 iakcrs 300 2,600 'rinters 1,000 2,8u0 ihoemakers 1,000 3,000 Utters 600 1,800 Jailors (custom) 800 1,800 Jailors (common) 800 3,000 lorseshoers 300 1,401 Cabinetmakers 1,200 2,800 lanomakers 600 1,100 Mgarmakers 1,000 4,200 '1 ill uuuur*, KltM J'Crn UUU UUAIUIlIiVlD. CUVI *,rnju Jngineers and machinists 2,000 6,500 'aper hangers and upholsterers.... 800 1,100 rarnisherB and marble rubbers 700 J,200 )errick men and riggers 600 1,200 i ewelers and gold beaters 700 1,400 / iraBB finishers 100 750 : Longshoremen 300 3,400 . !arpet weavers.. 400 1,200 1 aper stainers 200 800 >ther occupations 6,000 12,000 Totals 38,300 86,950 BECAPITCLATION. 'otal number of workmen 102,400 .'otal number at work 61,100 'otal number out of work 38,300?102,400 lumber that ought to be at work 86,950 i lumber that aro at work 64,100 Difference over average years. 22,850 J Tfc will thns be seen that, instead of in average of 15,000 unemployed men, was usual in fair times, there are now < 18,000, or two and a half times as many j lands out of employment than there 1 >ught to be. 1 ( There is one committee at the Oenten- i lial Exposition that has not had a j vacancy since the opening. It is the 1 urors on wines, and they have sampled t >ver eight hnndred different varieties, i Fashion Notes. Plush is used for trimming hats. Fringes are very fashionable this season. Street dresses are to be worn quite short. New muffs for this winter are made of feathers. Velvet is in great demand for dress trimmings. Turbans made entirely of feathers are very fashionable. The square mesh, netted silk ties are favorites this season. Few felt hats are to be worn. Velvet or silk are preferred. New lace scarfs are of cardinal red color ad cashmere laoe. Long cloaks or dolmans are the favorite wraps this season. Conch shell jewelry is exceedingly pretty and fashionable. The dress skirts are made even more scant than last season. Bed flannel balmorals, trimmed with black velvet, are in vogne. Sandal shoes and slippers are not so much in demand this fall. Only a little lace, which must be very fine, is used on dress hats. Bnchings with colored edges are only to be Ubed for morning wear. Broad belts, with large silver, steel or jet buckles still continue in favor. Silleul, or linden color, is one of the new shades of greenish cream oolor. All polonaises are made very long, showing but little of the dress skirt. Very deep and heavy worsted fringes ire very stylish for trimming dolmans. Very small pieces of turquoise, set in steel and silver, are a novelty in jewelry. Ulsters will be as much worn this sea 1-1- 1 Al ;on as last uuiu uy geutieuieu ouu boys. White ivory ornaments are very pretty md mnch in demand in the place of jewelry. Blaok kid gloves are coming in fashIon, to wear with carriage and reception jostumes. Low crowned hnts, with qnito broad brims, ai e the favorite ones this fall for children. The loopings in overskirts and polonaises are made very low in the back or sn the sides. Three cornered silk handkerchiefs, 2dged with lace, are shown for wearing iround the neok. n.-i u ?*3 ^11 JCllUgrutJ guiu uuu envoi uouiunwo *tjula iake the place of the heavy gold link chains for fall dress. Many of the long streamers worn on lata are caught together at the ends by in ornamental pin. The hair is worn low on the neok, in square meshed silk nets, the nets natohing in color either the hair or Iress. Ruohings, either of fine organdio or srepe lisse are used in the necks and ileeves of evening dresses in preference ? lace. Shetland wool hoods are to be vorn by children this winter instead of ihe usnal white Swiss and Valenciennes ace ones. Wolves in Russia, In 1873, in one government, that of Vologda, with an area of 324,000 square rernts, they killed 14,000 head of large sattle and 35,000 head of small; in the Kazan government, in a space of only >6,000 square versts, they killed 5,000 arge and 26,000 small, of an aggregate mine of 254,000 rubles, the population )f this coveanmont being only 1.715, )00. In the St. Petersburg government ;he losses are smaller, but even there, n the same year, property was destroyed jy wolves to the extent of 64,000 ubles. In forty-five Russian governments, exilusive of the Baltio provinces and Poand, 741,900 head of cattle were de itroyed in one year, making a loss to the sountry of over 7,500,000 rubles (more ;han $5,000,000). Russia is a thinly populated country, ind, perhaps, the above loss appears jven more striking when considered in eference to area. Putting aside eight rat of the forty-five governments, the oss on the remaining thirty-eight unounts to three copecks on every leoiatine of 2.7 acres. The amount that wolves will eat is en>rmou8. In two or three hours a pair pill eat the half of a horse weighing 350 kilogrammes, they themselves not weighng more than fifty kilogrammes. A langerous peculiarity is tneir wick 01 eeming to be dead. A peasant found a rolf apparently dead on the ground, >eat hiui with a cudgel, and took him lome on his sledge for the sake of his kin. In the night he heard a noise, nd found the animal on the table. It umpea at his throat, and his wife, who ushed for help, found him dead on her eturn. The number of wolves in Russia canlot be less than 170,000, and they eat of eatbered game alone 200,000,000 head, n 1875 no les' than two hundred human >eings were destroyed by wolves. A ;omparison is instituted between the osses occasioned by cattle plagues and ires as against those caused by wolves, >nd, extraordinary as it may seem, the >roportion of damage done by wolves as sompared with cattle plagues is as 200 to 140. To What Base Uses. The practice of using the portrait of he papa of his country to embellish all nanner of business signs, says the BuriBgton Hawkeye, has a very decided endenoy to lower that great and good nan in the estimation of the rising geniration. A prominent music dealer purposed a very fine steel engraving of G. N. and hung it in his parlor, and when ho youngest hope of the family came lome from Bchool he was told that they - ? ? - tvin uAW'O OTflQ 1BU A L1UW piUlUiC* JL uo kjvjj 0 ojvo lightened with anticipation and pleasiro, but when they led him to see the measure his facc was clouded with dlsippointment and disgust. "Ho!" he jxclaimed, mindful of the pictorial sign )f the establishment which furnished ,he table with its fleshy viands: "Hoi >ld meat market picture I" The moral 8 obviou1. Very Careful. The sum of $314.75 in "condemned noney " was taken at the gates of the Centennial Exhibition up to Sopt. 1. rhree-fourtlis of the pieces of silver had jeen mutilated ; the remainder were ounterfeits. The largest amount of jounterfeit money received on one occan'nn. &16.50. was received on New York Jay. Tbo stile keepers, from whose ialaries this loss is deducted, have really lone excellent work, siiioe although ihree or four million pieces have passed hrough their hands, only a few hundred lave been found worthies?. A burglar broke into a palatial resilence, chloroformed the inmatee, got sossession of an United States bond ooking box, fastened with a brass pad: ock, and carried it three miles into the jountry before he ventured to open it, ind then when he found in it only a japer pattern for a lady's night dress, le threw his dark lantern into the creek, ind swallowing bis skeleton keys died n abject mortification. A Legend of the Seneca Indians. Herno, the great Thunder spirit, had his lodge behind the sheet of water which poors down at the falls of Niagara. For a long time he dwelt there, astonishing the Indians with his stunning peals, but never venturing forth to practice his strange art before their eyes. They could hear him and knew he was there; but never as yet had he been seen; nor is it all likely that he or the effects of the sun ever womld have been seen but for a little incident, the results of whioh brought him forth. A young and beautiful maiden residing at Seneca village, just above the falls, had been contracted in marriage by her father to an old man of disagreeable manners and hideous person. She at once resolved to seek death rather than drag out the life of misery whioh such a union must bring about; and with this object in view she launched forth from the village in a oark canoe and swept down the rapids of Niagara singing her own death song until she took the awful leap. Bat death was not ready lor her. Herno, the Thunder spirit, happened to be wide awake; and when he saw her coming down among the foaming waters he ooolly oanght her in his blanket and conveyed her to his home behind the falls. Of course, the maiden had romance enough about her to be grateful for all this, more especially when she found she was entirely beyond the reach of the monster her "cruel pa-ri-ent" had selected to comfort her through life. She fell upon the neck of the Thunderer and wept sweet tears. The tears softened his stern heart, and led him to smooth back if not to toy with her golden tresses. In short, to hurry through a long story, they got to billing and cooing? they fell in love?they made the interesting affair known to each other; and the wronged though beautiful maiden became the wife of Herno, the Thunder spirit. And, as a matter of course, she was very happy. About this time the Senecas of the village above the falls were visited with a pestilence which swept them off by hundreds, and while some prayed to the Great Spirit for help, others gathered around the cataract and sent in their petitions to Herno. The tale of their su&eringa moved the Thunderer, and he sent the maiden forth to tell her people that a monstrous serpent was dwelling beneath their village, just below the surface of the ground; that it was depending upon their bodies for food, and that it came forth at the end of every moon and poisoned the waters, in order that they might die and be buried within its reach. - . T_ J 1 -J AS soon as me nimaiiB itatrueu ima they pnlled up and moved to another locality; consequently when the great serpent poisoned the waters as usual, the earth brought him no food. This was an affair so strange that he crawled forth to see what it meant, when, to his surprise, he found the village was deserted. With many curses on the head of the Thunderer, as the author of his misfortune, the serpent took the trail of theretreating Indians and started away in hot pursuit. The maiden still loved her people, and when she saw the serpent moving on to effect their further destruction she appealed to her husband to arrest him. Herao was not deaf to her entreaties, and so he stepped forth from his hiding place and launched a hissing bolt after the serpent, which struck him just as he was endeavoring to cross the narrows 1 /?11? HUllie UlMUtUUO ttlXJVO UUO 1UUD. The wound produced was a fatal one, and the great monster floated down the stream and lodged upon the verge of the cataract, stretching nearly from shore to shore. The swift waters were dammed up by the obstruction; but they finally broke through the rocks behind, and thus the whole top of the falls upon which the snake rested was precipitated with it into the abyss below, excepting a small portion, whioh is now known as Goat island. It almost entirely ruined the home of the Thunderer, for it reduced the great space behind the waters to a very narrow compass. He btill occupies it as a sleeping apartment, however, and you may now heaihim snoring under there as you stand on the shore; but if he would exercise himself in his favorite pastime of throwing thunderbolts he is forced to ccme forth into space less limited. Unreasonable as this myth may sound, there can be no doubt that the Senecas believed every word of it. When they were to be met with in the Niagara country they pointed out a place near the month of Cayuga creek, where the banks were shelved out in a semi-circalnr form, and declaied that it had been done by the serpent in his death throes after having been wonnded by Herno's thunderbolt. And to this tradition may be attributed their oustom of putting away their dead upon scaffolds above ground instead of burying them. The Grasshopper Described. A Western journal says : The grasshopper as a champion multiplyist has no equal. He lays (speaking genericaliy and not to put to fine a point upon it) an egg whioh is about the size and shape of a long primer 0. In fact, he lays several of them. From August 1 until wiuter he is actuated by a reckless ambition to bore holes in the ground, of the size of a pipe stem, and to till these, holes with cream colored 00. And though he is small he attends to his biz, and is a triumphant success. In stature he is about a match for a sixpenny stub nail, in form he is like unto a lynchpin, and he wears a green sealing-wax head on him and a pair of glass eyes, so that with his long tailed duster on he looks like an unsophisticated and near sighted schoolmaster. But unsophisticated isn't what's the matter with him. And nu meration is bis best mathematical hold. He will stand himself bolt upright like a peg in one of those holes aforesaid, and view the heavens with an air of sublime serenity and wooden headed unconsciousness. Don't you fool yourself?he knows just what he is about. He prefixes himself like a figure 1 in the business, and. adopting the decimal system of notation, calmly places a 0 where it will do the most good. That stands for 10, and before you can dot and carry one he has added another cipher to that, and he now reads 100. About this time you begin to discover what sort of a rooster he is, and you entertain a degree of awe for him not inspired by front view of his green goggles. Reasoning a posteriori you discover that ho is a dangerous neighbor. But while you stand amazed he rapidly suffixes fifteen or twenty more 000, carrying his problem into the million millions, and has sealed and cemented it up ready to be fired at you next spring. In two minutes and a quarter he has given you a problem that with all your powers of multiplication cannot be solved or equated. He compounds his interest at 100 per cent every five seconds, puts a snap judgment on your cornfield, and forecloses before you can say Jack Robinson. General Newton's little daughter, only three years old. touched off the dynamite in the Hell Gate mines. Bless her soul, if little Miss Newton blows np things so thoroughly when she is only three years old, what will she do when she is a mother-in-law ? An Australian Millionaire. Somewhere about the year 1810, when, if history speaks truly, facilities for transportation were abundant in Ireland, a woman under the name of Eleanor Oollins was transported from thence to the then penal colony in Australia. With her she is said to have carried a son, then a mere ohild, and named Patrick Oodv, she claiming to be married to a man of the same name. In Australia she subsequently married a man named Buckley, Oody having died in the meantime, and as a mark of esteem for his stepfather, the son added to his name that of Buckley, and grew up thenceforth to be known as jrainos Cody Buoklev. Under this name he accumulated large wealth in Australia, and died a few years since, leaving an estate estimated at about ?200,000 sterling. After his death two persons presented for probate what purported to be his will in their favor. This will was contested on the grounds that it was a forgery and one of the parties convicted of the offense, the other having died in Erison before his trial was reached, letters of administration were then taken out on behalf of creditors of the estate by & firm of solicitors in Melbourne, and, after paying all the debts, a still very large sum remained which her majesty's attorney-general claimed to have escheated to the crown for want of heirs. These facts coming to the knowledge of certain parties in Dublin, Ireland, claiming to be heirs of the deceased, steps were taken to assert their claim as against the crown. From Dublin proceedings were put in motion which led to Australia, and from Australia the contestants have danced around the globe to New York city, where evidence is now being taken before Mr. Bichard Huntley as commissioner appointed for that purpose by the supreme court of Australia. The claim of the heirs is resisted on the part of the orown of England on the question of the legitimacy of Patrick Oody Buckley, it being olaimed that Eleanor Collins was not married to Patriok Oody nor did she carry a born child with her to Australia at the time of her transportation. In proof of this it is asserted that the passenger list of the transport ship Canada, on which she was carried to Australia, made no mention of suoh a child. On the contrary, it is asserted that she was at the time encienie by the jailer; that the latter was dismissed from the office for the part he took in the affair, and that was the child whose legitimacy is in dispute. Thus the orown puts the claimants to proof of the mnmn/vo nf Uloonnr flnllinn fn Pfttrriflb UJOIAIO^O VI MAVtWAWA ? ? Oody, and their subsequent heirship to the estate of Patrick Cody's alleged infant son, Patrick Oody Buckley, whose estate is now in litigation. On this question it is that proof is now being taken before the commissioner, and thus far the testimony adduced seems to tend to establish the claim of the heirs. The heirs are represented here by Mr. Octavius O'Brien, solicitor of Dublin ; claimants in Australia by Mr. Frederick Stanley, of London, and the attorney-general of Australia, acting for the crown, by Messrs. Sullivan, Kobbe & Fowler, of New York.? New York Paper. ' The War In Serria. rinmnarftHvAlv litfcla information has yet reached us as to the result of the recent fighting in front of Alexinatz. On the one hand we have the report of a correspondent of the London Times with the Turkish forces. Naturally a man in that position would see the case through Ottoman spectacles, and when we consider that his report was telegraphed from a city not far in che rear [ of Nisch?perhaps Sofia?to Constantinople and thence to London, and was therefore subjeot to Turkish censorship at two points, it is evident that it would not be likely to contain any truths that would be unpleasant in -Constantinople. Another source of information is the correspondent of the London Standard at Belgrade. Anybody telegraphing from that side would be apt to give us the Servian story except this correspondent ; but as the tory organ is so thoroughly identified with the support of the Ottoman cause that it depreciates to the utmost possible point all Servian acts and admits no Servian successes. Perhaps, therefore, the fact that it does not claim that the Servians were annihilated in the recent fighting is an evidence that they were moderately successful in their movement. They seem to have moved from their works to the assault of the m?-1?-*-! * Vintto XUTiUJ31i IIIIOO| CUiU W UMTV UMV4VM V W*V11 , to turn the Turks on both flanks at once; a fact which indicates that there is as yet no tactical genius in the Servian staff, for the attack on both flanks is always a blonder where the attacking force does not enormously outnumber the enemy. Bat though they did not overwhelm the Turks they donbtless had some satisfactory achievements, for the Turks are reported as assuming the offensive in circumstances which do not indicate that they had advanoed. The Turks perhaps endeavored to recapture positions stormed two days before by the Servians. The one fact certain is that the valley of the Morava above Alexinatz has been the scene of some really obstinate fighting, which is enough to show the very great change from a few weeks since, when the Turks drove the Servians down the same valley like sheep. Already, therefore, the Servians have established a new relation of facts for the peacemakers. Probably the reports of the contents of the note of the czar to the emperor of Austria are acTt iq said that the czar proposes a conference of ministers of foreign affairs of all the powers if the Porte will accept a permanent armistice, but otherwise the immediate occupation of Bulgaria by Russian fores and of Herzegovina and Bosnia by Austria; this joint occupation to guarantee to the population of those countries and of Servia their practical independence in the future from Turkish domination. This is very likely to be the turn events will take. There is no appearance anywhere of a capacity or a will to oppose this step, and Turkey herself can at most only protest against it.?New York Herald. Sunny Rooms and Sunny Lives. Light, says Scribner's, is one of the most active agencies in enlivening and beautifying a home. Wo all know the value of sunlight as a health giving agent to the physical constitution; and it is not less so to our moral and spiritual natures. We are more active un der its influence?can think better and act more vigorously. Let us take the airiest, choicest and sunniest roominthe house forour livingroom?the workshop where brain aud body are built up and renewed. And let us there have a bay window, no matter how plain in structure, through .whioh the good twin-angels of naturesunlight and pure air?can freely enter. Dark rooms bring depression of spirits, imparting a sense of confinement, of isolation, of powerlessness, which is ohilling to energy and vigor; but in light rooms is good cheer* Even in a gloomy house, where walls and furniture are dingy and brown, you have but to take down the heavy curtains, open wide the window, hang brackets on either side, set flowerpots on ' thebracketsandlet the warm sun stream freely in, to bring health to our bodies and joy to our soula. ? Anecdote of Alexander Dumas. Some years ago the writer, on returning from Rome, via Givita Vecchia, met on board M. Alexander Dumas, pere. Everybody knows that this famous novelist was very fond of relating anecdotes, and after dinner a large party assembled on deck and surrounded him to listen to his tales. The evening was delicious, the sea as calm as a river, and the sky above brilliant with Btars. The conversation turned upon dramatio subjects, and M. Alexander Dumas related to us how he wrote his famous comedy, " Mile, de Belle Isle": For more than a year the people at the Francais had been bothering me to write a nlav. De Mornay, the director, I wanted a new comedy for Mile. Mars, who was already growing old. This was ,'n 1839, and the famous oommedienne was by no means a juvenile. I had been thinking abo at a play for months beforehand, and had already invented a plot which I subsequently worked into "Mile, de Belle Isle." On Mondavi went to Mornay and said I accepted his proposal, and would immediately write him a play. > " When will you give us a reading ?u " On Saturday," 4 v* * , " Not a word of it is written yet ?" "Not a word." "Ton cannot possibly be ready by that time." ' . : " I shall, though. But I want some i cash down." . . i My audacity in asking for monee astounded Mornay, who, however, gavy J me a check for 8.000 francs in advance. < On Rafnrrlav I Tfltnrned to the theater. J Not a line of the play was written. I waa introduced into the green-room. Everybody was assembled, Mile. Mars inoluded, and in the very worst temper. " Where is your manuscript ?" asked Mornay. " I have not got it," I replied. . " He has not even brought his manuecript!" cried Mile. Mars. " What nonsense I How ill-bred to bring us here for nothing 1" "I beg your pardon, madamoiselle, vou are brought here for something. To hear my new play." I give you my word, my friends, thtf' I had been so busy during the week^I had not even thought about the playjontil that morn, and then I sketched it Out . in my head, and went off to the Frantois, to improvise it before the august assem- { bly of the greatest artists of the <^ay., I planted my back against the.-chimney piece, and set to work. I declaimed ] inof aa if fkfl v)ia1a ' OUCUO (UllOl DWi*Uj j uuu trv a* wmw timw.v affair was written oat before me in the clearest handwriting. I was-applauded to the echo. Everybody wai astounded. The play was accepted. -/And Mile. Mars embraced me. A week afterward the parts were copied, and in hand. If I had died on leaving the Theater Franeais that day, "Mademoiselle de Belle Isle " would never have been acted on any stage. Bottled Bumble Bees. No man can tell when a boy of nine or ten years is going to break out in a new spot. A Oass farm lad, who has been noted for his quiet demeanor and steady ways, all at once took a notion to hunt bumble bees. He armed himself with a wide mouthed bottle and tramped over lots and fields and entrapped many a luckless stinger. After securing them he had no further pleasure except to see them crawl up and down the sides of the bottle and whack their stingers into each other. He was out early one morning, gathering in the bees while they were benumbed, and when he entered the house for breakfast he had about thirty great overgrown, wicked looking bumble bees. They were packed into the bottle, heads and tails and other ways, and the father, catching sight of them, spoke up: "See here, boy, I don't want any . more of this fooling around after bees. * * ? 1 AT?A Alter DreaKiast yon ueave uimu uuuuo out doors, and don't bring another bee j around this house." ' The boy placed the bottle behind the 8 dining-room stove. There was a gentle J Are, and the bottle had no cork. The 1 family had got through with the first fi cup of coffee, when they heard something going : " Jing?ring?ding?ong?long-rong g-g-g I" The fire warmed the bees up, and 8 they left the bottle to warm the family c up. It was a business affair, and the e bees went in to do their beet. The boy J slid out at the first alarm, but the old folks flourished their nakpins until slid- ? ing out would have done no good. The c old gent got a sting on his ear and an- I other on his head at the same second, . while the old lady was punctured in the shoulder and yelled "Murder 1" with all J her might. : " Maul?maul em I" shouted the old gent, waving the butter dish around * and getting another needle into his ( neck. I "Police! Police I" squealed the old j lady, diving under the table as a big I bee settled on the lobe of her ear. 1 It was a very even fight for a while, but then the man got down cellar and i the woman flew for a bedroom, the one's -f deep bass voice shouting: "Gimme I the camphor, Betsey I" and the other j squeaking out: "u you love me go j for a doctor!" I No one knows whaf- became of the I I boy. He is reported as missing. Seated I under the swaying head of some stunted i IT /inmmnno Via looks a I bJUUrii 111 CD VU VUw J -- v longingly toward home, but he realizes 5 that his reception will be red-hot.? Detroit Free Press. c a Be Cantlons. J t Swindling is often successfully perpe- p trated by raising drafts, checks, notes fc and orders for money from small to t larger sums. 1: The drawers of smaU drafts and cnecks are often careless in leaving the paper so that it is conveniently altered. We have seen alleged frauds of this kind where, if we were on a jury, we should 0 say that the maker of the altered paper ( ought to stand the loss; and we have t seen cases where strong suspicion fairly I rested that the maker, his clerks, or bookkeepers, were sharers in the swin- c die. x Never cash drafts for strangers. Nor is it safe to collect drafts for strangers; for altered papers are often paid, and returned months afterward when the fraud is discovered. Such is the law and custom. Have nothing to do with drafts and checks unless you know all about your man. The Socialists. The vastness of the Socialist organization in Germany revealed itself at the congress held at Gotha, when 101 delegates, elected by 37,747 votes and sent by 284 districts, took part in the deliberations. There are 145 accomplished public speakers connected with the movement. The congress received communications from Soc.alist societies in Spaiu, Portugal, Switzerland. Brussels, ? London, and Paris, all urging the point that the interests of workingmen were everywhere identical. -?? I It was not many years ago when all 1 the skates used in the United States 1 came from abroad, chiefly from Germany. Now, a Massachusetts company e is filling orders for niokle plated skates I to be sent to Germany. ? Wastes on the Farm. The greatest of wastes on the form, Scientific Farmer, is in the not using of our brains;. the greatest because at the bottom Of all. other wastes. A Little thinking often saves muoh laborv After aocomplisning almost any piece of work, the most of us can look back and see how we could have improved on it, if we had but thought . As we review our crops of this year, we see how they. could have been easily increased, had we . only thought. The ditoh we dug through our meadow was not done in the most economical way. We dug too deeply at first, and did not allow for the settling of the land. Henoe a waste of labor. We omitted buying an implement that would have saved nearly all its cost in this one year's' use, until we had spent much in trying to accomplish our work without it. Here was another waste. We carry a water pipe too near the surface, to save the expense of dig grng a trencn ox a saze aeptn, ana tne winter's frosts necessitate a replacement of the pipe and an additional digging. Certainly, a waste here. We allowed the weeds to grow on one pieoe of land, not thinking to what proportions they Would grow by the time the crone were too far advanced to-admit the hoe. A. waste here which might have been obviated. And so on, wastes, little and big everywhere, all arising from not tninkJng sufficiently?waste, because not neoesmry and easily obviated* We omit.tbj?; ordinary wastes from neglect, from laziness, from want of appreciation of cleanliness and thoroughness?the wastes From our stock, from our manure heap, from our household* Verily, a lime thought will save to the farmer much, ind the saving through this means, even on a small farm, will represent the interest on a considerable capital ' The wastes arising from ignorahce can very readily be diminished, and are in* large part in excusable; those arising from sarelessness are not deserving of sympathy. The farmer, as well tt the basiless mac, mnst use business jQ secure the largest suooess, and the me should be as careful of the outgoes is the other. Hints Abort Dressmaking. An easy way of Staking the trim EngiBh collars is seen o^pew dresses. They ure merely bias bands, an inch wide irhen finished, of the ailk or wool of the Ireea, lined with the material with which t is trimmed; the wearer turns over ;he fronts in points to suit the inside jollar worn with the dress. If it is accessary to have the oollar flare slightly behind, a seam may be taken in the niddle of the back to shape it thus. The" nterlining of crinoline which some' nodists have used make the oollar too iiick and clumsy, and is now dispensed with. Bows of narrow braid are sometimes seen on oollars of woolen dresses. , For black silk collars a lining of black. velvet, that shows only at the turn over points, is very neat. When dark dresses ?e trimmed with cardinal red or other: contrasting color, the oollar is lined with ;he bright color. Basques buttoned behind will oon;inue in favor for very young ladies. They are trimmed as little as possible, is all ornament interferes with the shapely seams that follow the outlines sf the figure. They should be made irithont any seam down the middle of ;he front, aud with very low dartB; if ;he hust is very full, these' darts are nade on each side. The high straight log collar is preferred for these. This is a bias band passing straight around Ihe neck without any opening in front With, it is worn the usual inside oollar >r frill, and a velvet ribbon band an neb wide, or even wider, holding a pendant or brooch in front* and tied behind in a long looped bow, with endr eaching to the waist. Among the latest importations are iresses with nine perpendicular seams n the back of the corsage, oonnting the u^er-arm seams. These make the side >odies so narrow as to look like patches md scraps joined together. Modistes >ay thoy are neoessary for stont figures, hat now need to be made to look ilender.?Bazar. Rolls-Ions Statistics. In an article on churches, a writer ays that in the United States the Methidisfc, Baptist and Presbyterian preachers are the worst paid in money. Epissopalian and CJongregatioi al next The Jatholio take what they 1 sed; the rest ?oes to the church. Bn* the churoh iffioer does not, on the average, find >reaching profitable. I presume a majority of readers think he Oatholios outnumber any other single denominational membership. I hought so, but I find that in 1870 the able stood as follows: ram#. ChurcXt). BiUUgt Japtist 13,969 4,360,135 Congregational 2,715 1,117,212 Spiscopal 2,601 991,051 lethodiat 21,337 6,528,209 'reebyteriau 7,071 , 2,698,244 toman Catholic. 3,806 ' 1,990,514 But the same rating does not follow n val nation of property. faint. Valuation. Japtiat $41,500,000 Congregational 25,000,000 Jpiacopal .... 36,500,000 lethodiat / 69,854,000 'reabyterian 53.500,000 toman Catholic 60^*86,000 . All told, there were at the last conning, 72,469 organizations, 63,082 church ditices, ana V5i,ooo,w2 ueauj, vbiucu ?? 354,483,581. So scant is the income of the average ilergym&n that he is forced to eke it out a best he may. Some edit " religions tewspapers;" some simply write for hem; some correspond with secular tapers; some take pupils?and some eg. Now and then a preacher hires a tall wherein he talks on Sunday, and ives on the " collections." An Awful Moment. A man who had been playing for four ir five hours at a faro table in Virginia Jity, Nev., said, in a quiet, determined one to the dealer, as he laid his last dol W'8 wortn OI CIieCKH on m? war auu Ive :41 If I lose that I'll blow my brains int." There was a hush in that snail oom where souls are bartered nightly or the chance of winning gold. Youths, evered with the excitement of the hazird, drew back at the awful threat, and >ld gamesters cast an eye of dread upon he pale faced man who staked his life ipon a card. The gay murmur which ilmost always rises from a gronp of jamblers was hushed. The long, thin ingers of the dealer trembled. His >yes watched the cards intently as they ame out. The five lost! The player ook at the card for a moment, then, Irawing a revolver, pointed it at his lead and fired. The shot did not prove atal, and he was lifted up by his riends and carried^to a doctor's. He Wanted Some Himself. " a TO.Kon.Knn f" bawled a small Chi tago boy, over his father's front gate, he other night. "What's the matter,sonny?"inquired i kind hearted gentleman, pasting by. " Matter 'nough," whined the boy; ' my brother's np stairs with a whole ot of measles or sothin' an' they won't et me go in an' have any?boo-hoo I" Then the kind hearted man tried to oothe the lad, bat he couldn't make lim believe that "measles" were not ome kind of nut?.