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Satisfied* After the toil and turmoil, /And the anguish of trust belied; (After tho burthen of weary cares, JBaffled longings, ungranted prayers. After the passion, and fever and fret, After the aching of vain regret, After the hurry and heat of strife," The yearning and tossing _that men call "life;" Faith that mocks and fair hopes denied, "We?shall bo satisfiod. When tho goldon bowl is broken, At the sunny fountain sido; When the turf lies green and cold abovo, "Wrong, and sorrow, arid loss, and love; "When tho great dumb walls of silenco stand At the doors of tho undiscovered land; "When all we have left in our olden place Ts an empty chair and a pictured face; "When the prayer is prayed, and tho sigh is sighed, 4 "We?shall be satisfied. When does it boob to question, Whon answer is aye denied? .Better to listen the Psalmist's rede, And gather tho comfort of his creed; And in peaco and patience possess our souls, Whilo tho wheel of fato in its orbit rolls, f Knowing that sadness and gladness pass Xike morning dows from tho summer gross, And, when onco we win to tho further side, We?shall be satisfied. AT DAGGERS' POINTS. .. ~ I _ * "You see, I've had considerable cxpeTience in these Aneona and Ford way shares," said Mr. Leigh, rubbing the bald spot on the crown of his head. "And I ^advise you to go in for 'em!" "Thanks," said Richmond Grey, carelessly, "I'll look into the matter." "And all this time lam detaining you Trom your dinner," cried Mr. Leigh. *'Pray excuse me; I never thought of that." "It's of no consequence," said Grey, moodily. "I don't know but that I shall step into Delmouico's." "And Mrs. Grey?" The young husband shrugged his shoulders. "Pardon an old friend's curiosity?but I hope you have not quarreled?" asked Leigh, with a solicitous glance. "Quarreled? We never do anything tilse I" "Are you in earnest?" "Yes: serious, sober earnest!" "But?pardon me, once again?yours was a love match?" "Unfortunately, yes!" "And you are not happy?" "I don't know why," said the young man, with a perturbed face. "No, we are not happy. Agnes never meets me with a smile. I have done my best to please her, and in vain?and now I have loft off trying!" And Redmond Grey sauntered off with his hands in his pockets, and his chin drooping listlessly upon his breast, while old Mr. Leigh looked after him with a sigh. "There's a screw loose somewhere," said he. "There he goes, into the restaurant with Archer and Lonsdale; there'll be several bottles of gold-seal damaged, and a round bill to pay, winding up with an evening at billiards." And off trotted Mr. Leigh to the beefsteak that formed his frugal dinner at a cheap eating-house. For Mr. Leigh belonged to the noble army of old bachelors. At the same hour a tall, beautiful woman was pacing \ip and down the floor of a handsomely furnished dining-room in a brown-stone house up town, while the rustling of her rich amethyst-colored silk dress made a sound like the waves of the sea. "It's too bad," said Agnes Grey, biting her full scarlet lip. "The second time he's been late within a week. And yesterday he forgot all about that box for the theatre. But I'll show him what I think of his behavior when he comes in." She rang the bell sharply, a servant answered the summons. "Dinner, Spencer!" said she. "But, ma'am, my master has not " "Dinner, I say! Do you hear me?" Miss Tilly Ilandley, Agnes Grey's mature single cousin, shrugged her shoulders as Spencer left the room. ^ "Is it worth while to excite yourself about such a trifle, Agnes?" she said. "A trifle!" cried the indignant young wife. "I don't call it a trifle. If the man had a particle of affection left for tne he would not treat me so!" "If he could see your face just at present, Agnes, he would be pretty certain to absent himself," quietly observed Miss Handley. "Do you know, my dear, I think you scold him too much?" "Not enough, you mean." "I mean just what I say. A man don't *11 At- t i ' " ' " UKe me reins neia too tignt." Bat whon Richmond Grey himself sauntered in later in the evening, a cloud ' came over her classically beautiful face. "Well," said he, "does any one want to go to the opera to-night?" "To the opera?" echoed Agnes with an expressive glance at the ormolu clock, -which occupied tho place of honor on the mantel. "It is too late." "Not a bit too late. Who caves for the overture? Will you go?" Mrs. Grey coldly shook her head. "I do not care to go **ow."J "Very well, then I shall go alone." V "Just as you please," said Mrs. Grey, * haughtily. And Richmond Grey went out, closing the door not very gently behind him. Agnes bnrst into tears. "He behaves Uke a brute," said she. V.J/ V. ' V , *,Tv-" /, r o mM* V A . v V ; v - V ' *' ' N??^ ' . "And you behave liko a goose," said Tilly Hand ley. "Now ho will not coma back until the 'wee sma' hours,'?and 1 would not if I were he." "Let him stay away then," said Agnes. "Oh dear, how I wish I had never left uncle and aunt Masharn!" "I have no doubt Richmond wishes so too," said Till}', calmly. Two weeks from that evening, Richmond Grey came home with a tiny little bouq :et of hot-house flowers in his hand and a new book under his arm. It was the birthday of his wife. "We are not happy," said Grey, "but perhaps it is partly my fault. If I go back to the manners and customs of old courting days, perhaps the old charm will return. At all events, it is worth trying for." As lie opened 4he door and entered liis wife's boudoir, a curious sense of vacancy and desolation smote upon him. No one was there; but upon the table lay a small note addressed to him. Mechanically, he opened it. "When you read this," were the words that saluted his eves, "I shall have left the protection of your roof forever. I feci that we cannot make each other happy, and it is useless longer to keep up the farce of social happiness and mutual esteem. I shall return to my uncle and aunt. You arc free to select your owu path in life. Agnes." Richmond Grey dropped the cruel billet as if an arrow had smitten him to the heart. "Agnes!" lie gasped. "Agnes, my wife, my darling!" For never until this moment, in which he learned that she "was gone, did he comprehend how dearly he loved licr, how necessary she was to his happiness. He sank pale and half paralyzed "with horror, into his seat, covering his face with his hands. "Agnes! Agnes!" he gasped, "I can not live wunouc you. " "Richmond I" lie started up with a low cry. Before him, dressed in black serge, like a palo and lovely nun, stood his lost wife* "I could not go, Richmond," she sobbed. <4I could not leave you when the moment for my final decision came. I did not know how deeply rooted was a wife's love for her husband. And I began to realize that I had been haughty, cold and capricious?that I had not always treated you as I should. Will you forgive me, Richmond? Will you let us begin our married life over again?" <fMy darling Agnes!" was all that ho could say, but the tears that glittered in his eyes spoke more eloquently than any words. That was the night of their new betrothal, the end of all their married miseries. And the key to all the mystery was very simple?to bear aud to forbear. "I thought it would all come right in time," said Miss Tilly llandley, triumphantly.?Neio York Sun. Daniel Webster's Plough. On one occasion some Boston friends sent Webster as a present an enormouseized plough to use on his place. Web stcr gave out word that on a certain day it would be christened. The day arrived, and the surrounding fanners for miles came in to witness the event. A dozen teams with aristocratic occupants came from Boston. It was expected by everyone that Webster would make a groat speech on the occasion, reviewing the history of farming from the time when Cincinnatus abdicated the most mighty throne in the world to cultivate -turnips and cabbages in his Roman garden. The plough was brought out and ten yoke of of splendid oxen hitched in front. Moro than 200 people stood around on the tiptoe of expectation. Soon Webster made his appearance. lie had been calling spirits from the vasty deep, and his gait was somewhat unsteady. Seizing the plough handles and spreading his feet, he yeuca out to tnc anvcr in 111s deep, bass voice: "Are you all ready, Mr. Wright?" "All ready, Mr. Webster," was the re. ply, meaning, of course, for his speech. Webster straightened himself up by a mighty effort, and shouted: "Then let her rip!" The whole crowd roared with laughter, while Webster, with his big plough proceeded to rip up the soil.?Belfast (J/ij.,) Journal. Willing to Day Monkey. A small boy was on a visit to his aunt at her residence on St. Anthony Hill. He played about the house for some time, finally came into her presence and began crawling about the floor on all fours in imitation of some animal. "You're a perfect little monkey, aren't you ?" interrogated his aunt. "No'm," exclaimed the little fellow, as he straightened himself up, "but Til be a monkey if you give mo some of those cookies I had the last time I was here."?Bt. Paul Globe. An Unfinished Sentence* "Mr. Cold cash, I have come to ask fo* the hand of your daughter." "My daughter, sir?" "Yes. I can't live without her.n "Well, sir, finish your sentence." ^Finish my sent.nce?" j "Yes, you were about to say you could not live without her income. Let us b? frank, my dear sir."?Chicago Rambler, . . .. . .. - . , ? - ' MAKING SOAP~ " How a Very Useful Household Article is Maufactured. The Various Operations by Wliioli a Bar of Soap is Produced. Soap making is essentially a chemical operation. Soft soaps arc those which have for their base potash, while hard soaps have for theirs soda, and arc made by open pan boiling, in which the glycerine is eliminated. This class probably includes 90 per cent, of the total soap made in English speaking countries, and is divided into three different kinds, viz.: Curd, mottled and yellow. "Whatever kind of hard soap is made the first stages of the process are the same for all. To commence a boiling of hard soap, melted fat and caustic soda leys are simultaneously run into the copper, the steam is turned on and the contents boiled until a small sample coolcd between the lingers has a to crably linn consistency, and when applied to the tongue has no caustic taste or only a very faint one. The operator is obliged to be very experienced to judge of the completion of this first operation, called by some pasting and by others killing the goods or raw material. In this condition the soap contains about nine-tenths of the total soda necessary for complete saponification, with a large excess ofxwater, which is separated from it by the next operation. To effect the separation a quantity of common salt is sprinkled into the copper while still boiling, or the strongest brine j is run in; this addition is nisidr* rrmtimm ly and gradually (care beinq taken to allow solution of the salt), and continued until a small sample removed upon a spatula or trowel allows a clcar liquor to ruu from it. During this operation of graining, the contents of the copper are liable to boil over with great violence. When this point is reached the whole process is stopped and the steam turned oil; the copper is allowed to stand from two to three hours. Its contents then divide-themselves into two portions, the upper consisting of soap pnstc, holding about 40 per cent, of water, and the lower of a solution known as spent lc3's, containing common salt, carbonate and other soda salts present in the original leys as impurities, and nearly all the glycerine of the fat employed. At this stage rosin is added for the yellow soap, being broken into lumps and shoveled in, unless it is combined with soda in a separate copper and mixed with the fat soap in the next operation, which ;s termed clear boiling. All the goods having been killed and the spent leys removed", a small charge of leys is then run in and the copper boiled for two or threo hours. At the end of this timo the soap has a faint but decided caustic taste, and a small sample on a spatula allows clear leys to run off it. This operation communicates additional soda to the soap, and washes out as it were some of the salt entangled in it. After some hours' subsidence the half spent leys that sink to the bottom are | pumped off, and are used in another cop1 per for killing more fresh coorls? fho soap made from such leys however is of inferior color. The copper is boileil with open steam until the contents are perfectly homogeneous and in a state resembling a stiff paste. A sinall stream of leys is now allowed to trickle in, until the paste again separates into cakes of soap and clear leys; the soap now tastes strongly of caustic soda and feels hard when cold; this is technically called "making" the soap. The mode of finishing depends entirely upon the kind of soap required. The soap having been finished in the copper the noxt stage is transferring it into the cooling boxes, or frames, as they are usually called. Curd soaps are always carefully skimmed off tho leys by ladles, as they arc too stiff to pump, and most mottled soaps are in this condition also. In large factories yellow soaps arc invariably transferred to the frames by suitable pumping machinery. Curd and yellow soaps arc cooled rapidly in cast iron frames of any desired shape or size. One frequently adopted is almost water tight, the superficial measure being 45x15 inches and the height 50 to GO inches. The four sides are held together by bolts and nuts, and when the soap is cold (aftor tho lapse of three to seven davs for this *V?r>on are unscrewed, the sides are removed and a solid block of soap is left standing on the bottom of the frame. This is at once cut into slabs and bars, or may be slid bodily to store. Occasionally, such frames are mounted upon wheels for convenience of transport about tho factory. When it is desired to cut the soap, the sides of the block are marked with n scribe the teeth of which are set at the thickness desired for tho bar of soap. A brass or steel wire is then taken by two men and drawn through the block, which is thus divided into slabs; these are removed to a machine which divides them into bars. The cutter itself is worked by a lever frame, which contains wires, or for very hard soaps, thin steel knives; tho slab is placed longitudinally and nearly upright on the base board, and the lever frame is then drawn through it. /The bars thus formed fall back upon the shelf behind, whence they may be romoved sad *et aside to get .cold. Tb. . V # ' . *' ' <\\ ' <y.y. . y bars when removed from tho machine j arc placed across each other in open pile in such a way that air freely circulate? among them. When thoroughly drj ^ they are stood away iu close pile or packed. \ The bars of soap when freshly cut and ^ still soft are usually impressed with some words indicating the name or quality of ( the soap, and the trade mark or name of tlic manufacturer.?Brooklyn Ewjlc. Men Willi Elastic Skins. 1 The number of rubber-skinned persons * has strangely multiplied. The first of I them in this country was Ilerr Ilaag, who ' came over here several years ago, and was at first worth $200 a week as a curi- 5 osity. Gradually public interest in him 1 has waned, until now he is quoted in tho f freak market at $75 a week. He has a * skin that can be pulled away from hia ' body in any direction to a surprising extent, like the skin on a healthy dog or an otter. The skin of his throat can be brought up to cover his face clear to tho eyebrows; the point of his nose can be pulled down to his chin; the skin on his breast can be dragged out a foot, and when released snaps back into its placo smoothly. All his skin possesses like apparent elasticity. But the fact is that it does not really stretch any more than any other person's skin. The doctors who made a very careful examination of Ilerr llaag when he first came over here t 4U..1 1?!> 1?-- * 1 I a.?iu niiiL ins peculiar uuuity was causea | t by absence of the tissue that iu other ( persons connects the inner and outer , skins, and so when the outer skin was r pulled it simply yielded from all direc- ( tions until the tension was relaxed. ^ Only one similar case was recorded in j the medical books. But now there arc ( in the United States scores of per- f sons who get from $15 to $25 each , week from the dime museums for exliib- ] iting themselves as possessors of elastic ] skins. The fact is that they are what is ] know in technical parlance as "fakes." t . That is, they possess just a little abHity ( to stretch their hides, and by tugging at | . them constantly in certain exposed places, j eventually succeed in stretching them , further and further until thev approximate somewhat to Herr Ilaag's peculiar superficial extensibility. But, at the best, none of them can stretch more than about one-third as much as their great model.?Keio York Sun. Xcar-SighteAucss. Near-sightedness is increasing in our country to an alarming extent. It was comparatively rare a century ago, but now it aftlicts a large proportion of the children in our public schools. It is one of the evils created by civilization, and is almost unknown in savage life. An' official inquiry in Germany indicates that this evil is more common there than in the United States, and that it is the direct result of bad habits of study. The pliysicans who made the examination report to the Government that in children ot live years old the vision is j generally perfect. During t\e school i age the defect increases steadily. In tho I lower schools fron^fifteen to twenty per J cent, of the scholars arc affected; in tho j higher schools the proportion reaches forty to filtv per cent. It is far worse in tho professional schools; reaching fully seventy per cent, of theological students, and over ninety per cent, of medical students. The physicans ascribe the trouble to the poor print of the text-books, and to the general habit of holding books too near the eyes. It might be wed to make a similar examination in our own country, in order that public attention be aroused to provide, if pos sibie, a cure lor tins growing evil. It is a grave misfortune if public education creates a near-siglitel nation. ? Youth?* Cumpa n ion. The Grizzly Bear. In some of tlie western papers I have noticed recently that there has been a discussion in progress regarding the extreme weight of grizzly bears. Very few fine grizzly skins find their way to this market, as the hair is generally rubbed off the haunches of the arflmals. Tho home of the grizzly is supposed to be exclusively west of the Rocky Mountains. East of that range we find the cinnamon, oiltrai* fin nnrl KlnnL' Kon?< T -? ?*a!l> I OA ITWt bljl/ UUU uvm XkL YV t'l^Ub there is about the same relative difference between the grizzly and cinnamon as between the silver tip and black bear. The lait two avoid the presence of man, while the former will ferociously attack a man. The grizzly in weight is only equaled by the white polar bear. Thomas Smith of Rock Island, 111., states that he killed many grizzlies in California in 1850, the largest one being in the Luisin Valley and weighing 1,220 pounds.? Ilatter and Furrier. The Ho? of Honduras. While it would grieve me to offend the modest vanity of the swine-breeders of the states, truth compels me to say that with all their efforts, and perfect as they fancy their Poland-Chinas and Berkshires, those gentlemen have not succeed.j f 4.1-1? i'u iu prouuuiug nujiuing reaemo'.ing tne hog of Honduras. But when by some unaccustomed circumstanccs the hog of Central America has had food enough to put a little flesh on hiB ample stock of bones, that flesh is incomparably superior in flavor to the oily gros* product of the north.?Chicago Timu. - . LADIES' DEPARTMENT. i Women Rulltiic niontann. Not every girl wants to get married, 1 >ut all of them want to vote. Only last J rear at the elections in Western Montana or territorial school superintendents there vere four Richmtmds in the field. Three 1 )f them were females and the fourth?a 1 nan. < In Bozeman old placards on the fences -1 jan still be seen, appealing to the passers ;o "Vote for Miss Hamilton, the People's < Choice." Miss Hamilton got there and i lcr competitors were all left, "the man" ' wringing up the rear. < Helena has a lady superintendent of i ichools who has Indian blood in her veins ' ind who is highly educated. She has ilso marked dramatic talent, and plays | Jliarlotto (Jushmau's roles.?JSrcw York Tourual. A Fnalilonnlile Bridal Outfit. A very fashionable bridal outfit just inislied at a prominent store gives quite i good idea of the magnitude of sueli an >rder. There arc twelve hand embroilercd walking skirts, one dozen embroidered flannel and cambric underskirts, one dozen night robes, richly ximmed with lace, lawn toilet sacques, :orset covers, beautifully trimmed, and >ther undergarments, one dozen cacli, all ilaboratcly trimmed with lace and needlework. There are six walking dresses, >ix reception gowns and six dinner toilits. Among the six wraps there is one >f white cashmere, richly embroidered svith gold cord; this is for evening wear. The array of bonnets and hats number >nc dozen; four arc made to match the prevailing shades in just so many walking suits. The bride's dress is of white lut velvet, with long square trains, perfectly plain. The plastrons on the sides ire of creamy white ottoman silk, thickly studded with seed pearls; the front breadth is covered with rows of Spanish lace. The bodice is high in the neck, with points front and back. One band af orange blossoms and one clustcr of white pinks are used in festooning the kick drapery, which is formed of a wide and very long Spanish lace scarf.?New York Telegram. A Sontlieni Romance. Says the Macon (Qa.) Telegraph : Many Macon people will remember that in 18G5 the City Hall and the old Market Ilouse were used as a hospital for wounded and sick Confederate soldiers. The ladies of the town constituted themselves nurses, and perhaps in no other hospital in the Confederacy did the patients fair so well. Ono day a lady went to the hos" pital to visit "her soldier." She was accompanied by a very handsome married lady, a refugee from New Orleans. When they reached the cot upon which the soldier lay writhing with pain caused by the recent amputation of his left arm, they ministerod to his wants and then sat by and cheered him with gentle words of comfort. As tliey were leaving the soldier requested the New Orleans ladv to give him a small Confederate flag which she wore upon her breast. She gave him the flag, first writing her name on the white bar. The soldier recovered, the war ended, and he returned to his homo in Alabama. As something not to be forgotten, it should be mentioned that at the time he was in the hospital he was unmarried, and continued so after the war. A few months ago the soldier had occasion to visit New Orleans. He remembered the lady that gave him the flag, and made inquires about her. He discovered that her husband died soon after the war, and that she, a widow, was still living in New Orleans. He called on her. Then he called again. In fact he called many times, and a few days ago there was a wedding in New Orleans in which he and the lady figured as principals. A Marriage Mart. A remarkable custom exists among the Roumanians living in the westerly Carpathians. Every year, at the Feast of tho Apostles Peter and Paul, a market is held on the crest of the Gaina, from 5000 to 6000 feet above the level of the sea, and here all the marriageable girls of the entire district assemble with their parents in order to be viewed and claimed. Mothers, aunts, grandmothers, and various other female friends contribute to the dowry, and this completed, it is carried to the market on Gaina in neatly 1 made trunks, decorated with flowers, and carried by the family's best horses. Cattle, bees, and other household requisites are also added to the dowry. On the Gaina every family which has a marriageable daughter occupies a distinct tent, in which the dowry is exhibited, and in which the brideviewers are expected. The bachelors, too, are accompanied by .parents or relatives, in whose company they inspect the girls who are eligible. The young men bring the best they possess, and each must particularly come with a girdle of gold or silver. After the brides are chosen the public *?* -1 vklana tvAinsv Ail UGCrOlUUl UIIV.W Muiu^ wuvtuvwu t>y a hermit who lives in this loDely spot. The mark of betrothal is not a ring, but a beautifully embroidered handkerchief. The betrothal is in many cases prearranged ; but tho ceremony must 'be gone through all the same. If a girl goes to the market knowing beforehand that an admirer will be there to claim her, so *4i;fe* >;b. gfe; - < .V>.V ' ;j. . ' . ..tV - . .. ; . ... - ? nuch the better for her. Still slio must ;ake hor dowry and occupy her teut and >lacc herself oil view like the rest.?Pall Mull Gazette. A Wealthy Flrct-Ilorn'a I>rru. Italian papers dwell with delight on :he christening dress of the lirst-born of ;he )*oung Princess di Galatro CJolonna (neo Miss Eva Mackay), which is perhaps the most uniquo specimen extant of the finest point PAlencon lace, of ercat beauty smd rarity. The dress, made as a looso ?lip, is bordered with antique lacc a quarter of a yard in width, the remainder of the garment being woven to correspond, and having the arms of the Colonna family designed in lace-work upon the corsage. The same lace trims the cloak of cream-wlxite crcpc de chine. The Duchessc de Mouslcy (Princess Anna Murat) declared that the dress surpassed in beauty the famous christening robe of the late Prince Imperial. The lacc is tho most superb that has been seen in Paris for years. Even the weeding flounces of the Queen Regent of Spain cannot bo compared to it. Mrs. Mackay, mother o>Jf the Princess, has a collection of laces that surpasses any of the royal houses of Europe. She possesses the celebrated tunic and flounces in point d'Alencon manufactured for tho Empress Eugenic in 18G9, and left in her flight from Paris. This lace was copied from a pieco originally in possession of Mine, dc Pompadour. But the layette of the young Roman Princeling was made and furnished in California at the Ladies' repository of San Fraucisco, of which institution Mrs. Mackay is a directress. It is remarkable chiefly for the exquisite fineness of the materials and the dolicacy of the work, Valenciennes lace being the chief trimming employed. Some of the embroidery on the flannel skirts and blankets is the work of a "lady over seventy years of age, and is of great beauty. The basket is shaped like a shell, and is bordered with a white laco rulile. Fiishloii Kotei. Fancy straws are all the rage in mill4? nery. Both bracelets and bangles hre fashion able. Jewelry is again in fashion and is worn more than before for several years. Canvas material have fringed borders jor drapery. Striped pongees show delicate combinations of color. i>ew suit gooas are scripea witii seersucker cffdCts. Some of the new bonnets have perfectly square crowns. Black silk stockings with lislo thread feet find a large sale. Pale pink and silver is a much admired combination for ball dresses. Bodices for bridal dresses are low in the neck and short of sleeve. Satin mervilllcux with shot effects U used for stylish spring toilets. Ostrich feathers of two different colors are seen in some of the new fans. Duck and white or fancy linen vesta arc worn with tailor-made dresses. Cactus cloth is a new material with a surface composed of soft silvery hairs. A novel but effective apron is made of narrow strips of seersucker with insertion of Russian lace. In the combinations of striped and plain colors for costumes either fabrics may be used for the skirt. Among quite new styles in round hats are the French toques and the English walking hats with double brims. Black and white stripes are in demand, as are little stripes in other hues; then there are checks again and plaids. Collars of ruby velvet are edged with jet beads and fastened with bows of velvet ribbon corresponding in color. The variety of styles of parasols are almost as great as bonnets; in fact, they are in many cases made to match. Small crochet or ball buttons are used for the bodices of dresses the skirts oi which arc trimmed with largo buttons. Ottoman silks were by no means a pass ingfancy, many who wear expensive toilets selecting them in preference to the cheapei qualities. Ruchings for the neck, of crepe lisse, mull or gauze, finished with loops oi narrow ribbon, gold-corded edges or tinsel, are still in style. In silk and lisle hosiery the dark colors prevail, and the custom of wearing black, so general the past season, will be adhered to by many. Among the newest ornaments for the hair are rosettes of ends of ribbon cut in swallowtail points and fastened as hair* pins. Large rosettes of the same styU are worn at the belt. Diagonal fronts upon both baeques and street jackets are very popular, and English cutaway coat? fastened diagonal!) _ ll A !? + fl I I _ 1 across tne cnest witn iwo tuitions are aisc considered very chic. A walking costume of moss-colored canvas striped with brown, old gold and myrtle, has a pleated skirt. The onlj trimmings of the postillion bodice art . collar and cuffs of velvet, corresponding I to the ground tone of the dress. V v. \ ? \':i ' " . '? > ? ' ?< '\Cii