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THE UNION TIMES. UNION, S. C. Corli is ono of tlio most important exports of Spain. In the province of Gcroua 108,000 acres r.uo devoted to its cultivation, nail bring an annual incoino of ?S,000,COO. Cork will grow here as perfectly as in Spain, is ti.o significant comment of the Now Orleans Ticaynnc. Tho New York Commercial A-Ivorliser says: Toe's cottage, at Fordliam, is now the niccea of tho literary rilgritns of the earth. There, whero tho greatest genius America hn3 produced starved, and wrote iininortnl fiongs, they lay the laurels now? laurel* that were denied liim while he lived 1 The only wonder is that even ,this frail dwelling has been preserved ns a memorial of the great poet, who "learned in suffering what he taught in song," and shaped the true course of the literature of r. laud. -** Tn the commendable work of Americanizing tho Norwegian Lutheran Chnrch in this country, observes tho 'New York Post, tho English society of that church is taking n prominent part. Couspicious in tho socioty and ,'its work nro Professor E. G. Lund, Theodoro Eggen, and Henry RasmusHen. They wish to substitute tho English for the Norwegian languago in tho ritual and tho other services of I the church. They aro working hopefully. JWhcn they organized thoir aociety three years ago a small room furnished all tho accommodation needed for their meeting. The socioty has grown fast in numbers aud influence. A writer in ScribQer's says that tho 'timber wealth of tho Uuitod States gives a'ycarly product|of over a billion dollars, or twico tho valuo of the entire output of all tho mines put together?gold, silver, coal, iron, copjper, zinc, and the rest. This is a re Botirco wortu keeping, and yet we ara cutting into our capital at the fearful [rate of scvouty-fivo per cent, each year, as only 'about twenty-live per cent, of the timber market is represented by new growth. As for losses from the lires that are started by lo-1 Icomotives, cattlemen, berry pickers, hunters and incendiaries,it gives a 6iifficent idea of what they cost us to be |told by the Forestry Commissioner of 'Pennsylvania that his State alone problably suffers to tho extent of 830,000,000 annually from this one cause. Not 1 cnly tho trees are lost in thoso mighty conflagrations ?tho vegetablo mould whioh would supply fertility to tho aoil for futnro agricultural purposes, or food for tho roots of a second growth of forest, is burnt ; and tho first step is taken on that easy descent to a landslide or flood-bed. One of the London newspapers, in commenting upon tho death of tho late Shah of Persia states that eighteen rulers have been assassinated during the present century. The first victim was Emperor Paul who was murdered in 1S01 by palace couspirators. Theu followed a pause in tho record for nearly thirty year-, after which, in 1S31, Capouistins, the President of tho Provisional Government of was dispatched. In 1 >~> i the Duke of Palnia was assassinated. The turn of transatlantic Presidents bejrau with the President of llajti, in The South American series included Colonel Bulla, President of Peru, in 1h7- ; Moreno, President of Ecuador, in the enrno year, and his successor, Cuttierez, in 1S7:?. President Lincoln was the (ir3t North American President to l>o assassinated; Abdul Asis was bled to death in a warm bath in 1874 ; President Garfield was shot in 1880, and Alexander I was blown up in 1881. Caruoi was murdered in the midst of civic festivities at Lyons. Tlio Queen of Korea was the last to bo added to the black list. Four Hoys of A1 gierswero murdered in this'ceutury. The executed monarchs were Murat, Itnrhide and Maximilian of Austria, each and all of whom tempted fate. The Kins most often an 1 most seriously shot at was Louis Philippe, who eomehow was never hurt by his wouldbe assassins. The most desperate attempt was by Ficschi, the Corsiean, who operated with an iuferual machine, lie was once fired upon at such c'.ohc quartern that the llash of the pistol set fire to tbo bonnet of Queen Mario Ameiic, who sat beside him in a carriage. I3ut one fed-ions attempt was made to assasdnato Napoleon ; it was with an infernal machine. Napoleon III had two narrow escapes. One was when the Orsini bombs exploded round his carriage, and the other was in tlio 2'ois do Uoulogue, when a brdl meant for liis guca.t, Alexander f, wuizi'.ed by his car and shot bio su.l-dc cr.mp'o horse. Sl.tSILi MASC lv norn ; tllc s"n'jy pusturos I j vHy , Py uu-.l the fields covered J I . |j with tlio golden stub c'*^ M? ?* recontly harvestj Cl* t'ri"u camo the song ^ birds, gradually ? &JT growing fainter as tlio ruvs of the sun began ' to beat down. The air had not io.-t the dewy freshness of early moruiug. But early as it was the day's work at Bruco Barm was well under way. Pho farmer aud his men were in tho tiolds, in the kitchen liuldah, the stout Uorinnn girl, was busy over the dishes, whilo tho mistress of tho house, calm, Baxon-faced Margarot Bruce, was churning out ou the back porch. T4 ? 1.1; ?v.,f.. 1 , t j Ab nus U UUU^UblUl r>|iU b 1UI t% 111 ' J I II * ' ing hour. A screen of inorniog glory and trumpet vinos allowed only au occasional dancing ray of sunlight to enter. Margarot made no discord in the harmony of the quiet scene. Tall, erect, head well poised, lirm scarlet I lips and smooth brown hair. Even | her neatly fitting dres3 of indigo bine print, her gingham apron and her bare, shapely arms were pleasingto an irtistic eye. Whilo she was briskly raising and owering tho dasher ol the old-fashoncd stono churn, a song on her lips, ? step was heard on the walk. "Cousin Elsie," Margaret exclaimed brightly, "you are au eariy caller. Don't tell mo you have uo genius for housework when you can get out to tnuke calls as early in iho morning us this*" Elsie Mason shrugged her shoulders j in silence. Hho was a gypsy-fuccd, j girlish-looking creature, teu years | younger than her cousin. Elsie had I been for two years tho wife of John Mason, whoso farm adjoined that of Margaret's husband. "How do you suppose I uid it?" Elsie demanded, sitting dowu on tho lop step and fanning hereelf with her hat. "Did what?" Margaret queried. "Managed to get over hero so early in tho morning." "I'm suro I don't know." "Well, I'll tell you"--there was an almost wicked gleam iu the soft black eyes upturned to tho piaoid face above the speaker. "Wo had breakfast lute, lohu was in a harry to drive to Layton, and somehow when he is in a hurry meals have a fashion of being late. It didn't take us long to eat. Vou see, there wasn't a thing nieo. The coffee was muddy and the muffins I made?there wasn't any bread?were horrid. Breakfast over I put on my ; ant, and hero I am see. Sec?" | Mrs. Bruce looked grave. "Anil your table?" she questioned.. "It will bo all ready for dinucr," Elsie said llippantly. "I did intend j :o put the butter and cream in the ro'rigerator, but 1 forgot it. The bed ' ;s unmade, the sweeping not done, no I '>reiul set, uud nothing planned for iinner." . There wn3 a moment's silence. A uonient iu which Margaret's churning irocecdod very slowly, while she ttudied the face and form of In r cousin. Elsie's abuudant blue!; hair was i.wistcdin a rough huot. Ker bangs lad apparently been uncurled for oev?ral days. As for her pink cambric vrapner with its tern garniture of lncc, '.here was only one word to describe t, and that word was?dirty. I "Wei!, why don't you scold?" Elsio ' isked 111 the tone of a delimit chil l. I "I am nlraid it will d?. ji good," Mrs. Bruce said goutly. "Oh, 1 am so tired of everything," Edsio cried. "11" there could only be j i change in my lifo?1 woti'd not care vlint it wa?. But I'd rather die thun | {o on in this poky fashion." No reply. Margaret raised the cover I ' >f her churn to look at the smooth | i husk oi creain. Tlint was all. After ! ! > moment Elsio went on pettishly. "It's all very well for you. Von lave a girl." I "Anil I Lave three children, three | lirel men and the milk of our cows. 1 ton sell your milk, the tenant farmer ! loards John's help, ami you do the vork for two in the family." A little emphasis on the wonl "Jo" leepened the pink on Elsie's cheek. ! "I am fitted for better things," she v?gan loftily. "Fate never intended , r.e for a farmer's wife." "I aprrco with you. Why did you narry John?" "Hocauso 1 loveil him, of course, ohn is well enough. It is the uncongenial surroundings and prosy life ihat makes me miserable." I "With all John's patience tie is only pi man. You may some ?loy w.iko up 0 the fact that you have ruined both ronr lives. The poetry and congenial uiriotindiner. you rave of may bo all ight in their plac \ But you are lo .1 g the chance to live the sweetest of ill poems, the lulpflll life of a loved vile, and wasting your?" "You are cruel, Margaret," Elsie nt< rrupted hotly. "I wish 1 could 1 lie. Then, p rlmps, you ail would be iorry for your mikin ini-.v, to me." ' ?>h, wo wool t !"(<? ':i it tii'-n and tl'v your pr.ii.-e<. Y-?u remember? j dor woman n?v<>r drew br a-.u 1 J. ...u u., :. wi.e, LI.e. lb.' * wQHk HslSiV "j )x's Lesson,paiiing. j With your poetic knowlcpjo I don't need to remind you of tho fact that it was ufter tho llood that Elizabeth's *uvvuv? iu-iun OUIU r*%J, UU XL vuu wttu to dio I do not doubt that by tho time Jobu married again ho would forgive even tho muddy coffeo and?" "That is enough. I camo to you for comfort, not insults," and Elsie, wiping her oyes, hurried down tho path in the direction of her own home. Margaret smiled a little as she carefully moved the dAshor to gather the golden butter, but tho smile was followed by a quick sigh. As for Elsie, I wish I could nOirn that sho was so impressed by her cousin's words that sho went home and began to mend her ways. But truth compels mo to admit that she went straight to her own room, threw herself upon the nnmade bed and indulged in a good c*y. Regarding John Mason's dinner that day it was much like his breakfast, except that strong ten took the place of the coffee, and a loaf of baker's bread brought from Layton wns a decided improvement on the muffins of tho morning. After the meal was finished Elsie listlessly gathered up and washed part of tho dishes. She had really intendod to wash them all, but au interesting subject for a poem camo in her mind. So the dishes were left, and, with dirty dress and unbrnshed hair, the young wife sat down to devote the afternoon to verse-making. A week later John Mason camo barriodly into tho room where his wife sat reading. "Elsie, I must go to Hatfiold at ouce. i cannot return betoro tomorrow night. Will you get me eorae dinner while I dress? I must catch tho 1.20 train at Lay ton." "What have you got to go to Hatfield for?"' "Busiuess. I'll tell you all about it when I got back," and hurried upstairs. Elsie really evinced very little interest. She Listened to the message ho loft. for tho help, and also to his suggestion that she go to Margaret's for the night, whilo trying to decide if "Solitude" or "Soul Hunger" should bo the name of her now poem. "John didn't kiss mo" she thought after his departure. "He remembers that I told him last week that such thiugs wore silly. I don't believe ho has kissed mo since." A few minutes later she went to tho secretary to copy tho poem that was to make her immortal. As she let down the writing table a letter dropped out. She stooped to pick it up when it fell from tho envelope. Tho first word arrestod her attention? Daklino?Moot m<* at Hntflefu \?.-night. Must see you, cannot liva utiles!* do. Yours with undying love. Genevieve. Mechanically the wife returned tho letter to the ouvelopo and replaced it iu the secretary. Then alio tottered to a chair am?. - "Sid to think. John, he- >sba.id, false! It could not be! And yet there was his sudden departure, his refusal to tell his uusiucs" and, above all else, the letter. "r.fow could ho?" she cried. "Ho kne I loved and trusted him, and that i would have died for him. Oh, John, how could ycu ruiu our once happy home and break my heart!" Suddenly she remembered Margaret's words. Surely she had not been to 'olame. Ai, first she had been so happy, nu.l then had come tho longing for congenial surroundings. John had nevor said much when alio bemoaned her fate, but of late there had often been a cloud upon his brow. Then tlieir home. She shuddered a little as she glunced around tho tastily fur- j nidhrul ?>nt .licni-.lst.lo V.. *i._ I w?.v |/(UiUl . X LI lliU adjoining room stood tbo table from which her husband had risen. A soiled cloth, tao dirty breakfast dishes, n bit of cold meat, crackers, cheese and pickles. Surely not a pleasant picture for a man starting away on a jonrney , to carry with him. "But, Joliu, I lore you!" sho cried, , throwing herself upon the couch. "1 ?oh, I wish I had done differently." Tune passed and still she lay there, dry-eyed and despairing. The rosy light of the setting sun stole in at the west window and rested carelossly on | her tossed hair, hut she did not move, j At last a knock at ttio door aroused her. Sho went wearily to open it. On the threshold stoo I Mark Seymour, a farm hand who had formerly been em- i pioveu i>y >ioun. j 1 "Good evening, Mrs. Mason. I called for that packet of papers I put in John's care when I wont hunting. I saw him as he took the traiu at Layton 1 and he said you would get them for 1 me. He sai 1 they wero in one of the 1 upper pigeon holes of tho secretary." 1 It was only I?y a stroug effort of will 1 that I'.lsio was uh!e to coniprehcuil 1 what ho said. ' 1 "Uo you sioU?" ho asked, noticing 1 hi r ghastly face. ; 1 She murmured something about a j < bad hcadncho and r. Ivaticc I to the j 1 desk. As she took down tiir. paper < jlio started, it was from this enoio , i 4 compartment that letter had dropped. Hero it wr.s?anil tbo cnvelopo boro namo of >I?rk Seymour, and tbo post' mark was April 14. Elsie never could tell just bow sha managed to get rid. of the talkativo Seymour. When Sue found herself r.lono she panic upon her knees uud tried to realize it ali. It \vh3 dark when sbo rose. Siio lighted a lamp and the iight showed a lace glorified by a great joy. Tbo first thing sbo did was to gather up all of her per me. She used them to stare a lire i:i the range, heated water, and began a vigorous attack upon tbo dirty disbco. She spent the night alone. Tbo tenant house was near and she was too happy to be afraid. She worked uutil a late hour, and was up early the ncut morning. Jo Lin Alasnn did not reach home until Into that aftcruooii. A dejected look wus upon his face as ho strode up the walk. "I'm glaJ I didn't tell her," I16 thought. ".She would have been so disappointed. I must get rid of the farm some war. Elaio will never bo happy here, ilow different our lifo is from what i thought it would bo!" lie opened the door and Elsie was in his ur*n?. "Tell me you love me, John," she cried, clinging nervously to him. "Tell mo you will overlook the past and commence anew." Ho hold her at arm's length and carefully studied her intently. Her hair was arranged in the way ho admired it. She woro a fresh cream lawn, nud in her bolt was a bunch of scarlet carnations. "What is it, Elsie?" ho asked almost sterulv. Then, seeing her lip quiver, ho drew her close to his breast. "I love you, my wife." "Come to supper," sho said galyly alter a little. "See, John, I'vo turned over a new leaf." The tea table was faultlessly spread. Thero was fresh bread and cake, his fnvorito salad, broiled chicken, luscious black raspberries and cream. "But. Elsie," he said, his face clouding, "I went to Hatticld hoping to sell the farm. I was disappointed. I am 60 6orry?" *'I nm not," she interrupted him. "But I am sorry I have been such a dunee. Don't sell tho farm, dear I'll show you how 1 can manage a farmhouse. I've had a lesson, John."? Tho Home Queen. The Terror of His Xaui?. N. J. T. Dana, whom Mr. Cleveland recently nominated to bo First Deputy Commissioner of Pensions, has tho record of having been one of the best oflicera of the Federal Army. Ho entered the army as a Captain in tho regular service, and quickly roso to the command of a Minnesota regiment, being afterward appoiutod to u Brigadier-Generalship by President Lincoln. He was a strict disciplinarian, and the men who served under him wcrespeeially fondof telling anecdotes' of Dana whicn wore not always flattering to his vanity. One of the best of these relates to his trip to Washington to see Mr. Liucolu about his promotion. When Mr. Dana preferred his request to bo appointed a Brigadier-Genoral the President cut him off with the statement that he wanted recruits more than Brigadier-Generals. This decision did not phase Dana. "But, Mr. President," ho argued, "I am sure you (lid not hear my full name, which is Napo'coa J. T. Dana." "Nupolean was a great man," said Lincoln, "and if he were here I would put him in charge of the Army of tho Potomac. But, as I said before, wo need recruits far luoro than wo do Brigadiers." 'Mir. President," ho said, "I did not give you ray full 11: "ie. which is NupoieoD Tuchscn T. Dana." "I will admit," said the President, "that Jackson was a great soldier, and, as I said about Napoleon, it' Jackson were now living I would l>e glad to appoint him commander of the Arinv of the Petomae, but it is not Brigadiers we ncod nt this juncture so much ns recruits, to en l this cruel war." "But I did not tell vou my full name, Mr. President," persisted Colonel Dana, according to this interesting story. "It is Napoleon .Tackson Tecutnseh Dana." Lincoln turned to his private secretary. "Make out Colonel Dana's commisFion as Brigadier-General," he said ; "his unmo will striko terror to the hearts of our enemies, if nothing else." ? Washington Po3t. Bound to Have the Water. George Golden, a farmer residing near this city, wont to the spring after 11 pail of water. Contrary to Mr. Golden's anticipations he found that access to tho spring was cut off by two enormous blacksnukos, lying coiled i;r? in tlin nut'n nn.l irl.inl. -,.r.......i ? give the right of way to tho owner of the spriug. Mr. Golden Fccurcd a elul? ami with a determination to assort his rights proparcu to kill tho nDakes or rnako thom get out of the way, but the rep* tiles were not to be frightened by a man and a club, an 1 when Mr. Golden neareil them they both showe.1 fight to such an extent as to convince the owner of tho spring that it woulil bo not only useless but dangerous to at* tack them with a club. The snakes aro said to havo stood straight up on their tails, and not only refused to yield their plaeo of rofuge but showed light with such determination that Mr. (loldcu concluded to return to his hoino and secure a gun. Finding that his own gun was not in shooting order, he went to a at ighbor n< ar by and secured his gun, md hen returnc 1 to the spring an.I iispaichcd the snakes. It io said that they were about eight feet long and pule large in eireuiutci'CUCC.?C'.ttuoerh'.ad (M l ) Times. I _ A CCRIOrS BLENDING. i i\ coior miser we nave voc to ueeoine | used to or doom artistic is the blcudi iug of deep iris purplo and dark blue, aud uuother equally crude mixture of .yellow green ribbon ou turquoise blue gowns. The grecu aud blue combination is called the peacock melange. Michigan's woman pkofesxou. Dr. Elizu M. Mosher, of Erooklvn, who will enter upon her duties as I'rofessor of llygieue in the University of 'Michigan in the autumn, has had n thorough modical training in this ' .country and Europe, aud for some years has had a successful practice in Brooklyn. She is the first woman professor to be called to the University of 'Michigan. ENOLIsn CniliDRF.N AND TIICIU NURSES. An American woman in her travels abroad last season spent a fortnight at a hotel in Brussels, whero the rooms open upon n gallery surrounding the innor court of tho building. There wero a number of English families boarding there at tho samo time, and their children played constantly ou this gallery. Our countrywoman noticed several things about their rplaving which seemed to her distinctive. Odo was the way in whioh tho nurses or governesses took part in their romps, entering spiritedly into jevery game, managing and directing illfit. ATimiOfh lrnniA tliinnfa ~ i ~ ? -o ? "-'1 pleadhntly, while still heartily participating. An American caretaker of 'children thinks she has done her whole duty if she seats herself on a park bench by the side of another caretaker and gossips continuously, whilo their little charges pick up such amusement as they may. A second characteristic of the English children's play was its tempered hilarity. They laughed merrily and called, but they did not scream aud well?did not, in fact, once raise Itheir voices to the screeching point, >nnd though they ran occasionally back and forth in trout of her windows, 'there was never a glance in nor a noisy halt before them. "Children in hotels, ?as a rule," says this woman, "have been my dread and dislike, but these Children, who carried their breeding 'into their play, never annoyed mo at all, and showed mo once more that it is not the thing which is done, but the way it is doue, that produces the effect."?Utica (N. Y.) Herald. edison's debt to nis wife. Thomas A. Edison hus been marriod twice. To his two wives ho owes considerable of his success as the greatest living inventor aud the greatest inventor that ever lived. They looked after bis health and physical welfare, enabling him to retuin that vigor without which ho could not stand tho strain of day after day in his laboratory, without a wink of sleep. Twenty-two years ago Edison's friends urged him to marry, hoping that domestic,lifo would compel him to eat at least oue meal a day aud sleep with some regard to regularity. Eiison taid he had no time to court, but if enm A <r r * ? 1 tf-.? " a uwwuw s,Al ^ auicvi tu imu ry him ho hail no objections. One day, while watching a young woman who was working ono of his instruments and to whom he never before had spokcu, ho asked her, somewhat anxiously, if she would be his wife. She said yes, and in threo days they were married, though ho came near forgetting the hour for the ceremony, being busy on a complex machine. Walter P. Philips has been quoted as telling this story of Edison : One night a friend of the inventor found him in his Newark laboratory, and wont in saying, "Aren't you going home, Tom; it's late." j "How late?" said Edison, yawning, i " About 1 o'clock," returned his friend. "Is that so?" exclaimed Edison. | "By Cleorge, I must go home. I was married this morning." idv his lirst marriage Edison ha 1 throe children?Thomas, William aud Marion. The last two wero liicknamod by their father. Dot aud Dash, and Dot has clung to Marion even in her days of early womanhood. Sho is well educated, and has spent some time iu Europe. The second Mrs. Edison was Miss Minn Miller, daughter of Lewis Miller, of Akron, Ohio. J Lewis Miller, besides boing the founder anl early financial backer of the Chautauqua Assembly, is a rich manufacturer and an inventor of some note. To his daughter Edison was married in Fob- : ruary, 1 HSU. They have had two children, Madeline and Charles. When Edison spends whole days at a tune in his laboratory, Mrs. Edison goes to I him, sleeping on a cot near his work, beneli. She is a good pianist and is j well rea I. She is young and tine look- ; iug, has dark eyes and hair, and is of ! a vivacious disposition.?New York I'ress. Tin: n'kw vr.u.s. Now that tlio fiat has gone forth that wo are to wear our hats tilted far forward, so far that they almost rest on the bridge of the nose, a new mesh I of veiling has aj?p ared. Of course it | is dotted veiling, and the dots are 01 i abnormal size and so close together j that the oculists and opticians may safely cuunt up.?u a large accession of > t -> A"? ? > 'XW/}^w#&i A^/?r m^^1- <^> I | income durin * the next year. The j mesh that shows between the dots is ; very cheer, nud it must bo admitted these veils are becoming, particularly I to middle-aged women, who, with tho ! immense wide-brim hat and ono of ! these veils, look nt least ten years l younger. There are some conservative women who liud fault with these I veils, and complain that thev crivo a fast look that is not, uccotdiug to refined ideas, quite good form. Still, tho smart women in society have I adopted tho fashion, aud for the present, at all events, wo must wear them. With bouuots aud small hats a moro sheer, less heavily dotted veil is allowable, aud there are even some clear i meshes without any dot whatever. These latter ones, wliou becoming, are far tho best to wear, for they do not injure tho eyesight and are far less expensive. Very few colored veils uro worn. When solid colors?that is, in . chiffon?are worn, there is u small dot V * of tho same color woven in tho ma-! tcrial. Occasionally there are seen' veils, black with fancy dots, trimmed) * around tho edges with whito Valen-J . cicnucs lace. This is a becoming fashion, but it is not considered so; smart ns the all-blaok. Veilsaro worn [ shorter than they wore, only just) reaching to the chin, ani aro tied up, on tho hat, not at the back of the hair. ; This is much moro becoming, as it' prcvonts tho folds that aro so apt tot occur, and which aro so unbecoming.' With tho broad-trimmed hats it is^ comparatively easy to arrango the| veils, but with a small hat or bonuet! it is always necessary to put in a dou-j ble plait in front, n little fulness, to: prevent too much strain across the; nose and eyclashes. The most beauti-i fill woman in tho world would look' like a fright with her nose tied down and her eyelashes sticking through the meshes of her veil, says a writer in -' Harper's Bazar. Elderly women with1 gray Lair have adopted a clever! schome to keep their front locks in! order when they do not cure to wear a veil which hurts the eyes. They tio a , pieco of 6oft gray, almost white, tulle! over tho front hair and fusteu it at the back under their bonnet. Tho tulle is so line it scarcely shows at all. If' caro is taken to fold up a veil every' time it is worn it will last much longer. It should be carefully pulled: out, then smoothed ami folded away! in a sachet. Just a faint trace of per*, fume is peculiarly dainty about a veil,; and can bo best secured by always ^ keeping it in the sachet whenovor it is not in use.?Chicago Times-Herald. FASHION NOTES. I Tnrquoisos are most fashionable. Garden hats of tulle are wonderfully pioturesque. Swamp green alligator skin is tho newest thing in leather goods. Pearl, yellow and pink tan shades are tho correct colors in gloves. So:no midsummer organdies have floral figures as largo as one's hand. Fishnet draperies aro being extensively employed in seashore dwellings.' The Henry IV. capes are a revival of thoso which were worn by nobles at that particular period. Tulle an 1 chillon, with a satin edge, are sold by tho huudrcd yards for neck ruches and frilling on capes, parasols I and crown.-:. Vandyke collars and ecru and whito batiste, trimmed with laco and insertion, are made to wear over thin sumj racr gowns. ! Bishop sleeves are quite the fad in j cotton bo lices. Auotber dimity lias j the bo lico finely plaited in the back, j while in trout, over the side plaits, is , a broad double box plait, on which is ! sowed cafo-au-lait Valenciennes lace, '.narrow in wilth, put ou very fail, giving a wavy, pretty effect. For useful morning wear dimities in every shade and patttern are most in use. Ou3 in green eil'eots is made, as to bodice, with deep collar of course net and laco edging of the same. The sleoves and skirt are uulinod. Tho sleeves, gigot in cut, have two rows of the net insertion at tho wrists. ^ (iorgcous buttons and fancy braids carry out tho scheme of decoration still further. Ouo of the novolitios in the latter variety is a black and gold princess braid mixed with platinum and gold tinsel, and still more novel is a net galou with leaves of stamped leather bordered with colored beads. A stylish cape is made of broadcloth and velvet. Two deep rallies aro tinted and sewed to n yoke that ex tends well out over the points of tho shoulders. The wide collar is of velvet, and is also tinted over tho shoulders and across the hack. The fronts are cut in long, scalloped tabs, and extend below the w.u^t line, tho capo ending in shield-shape points 011 which are large, handsome buttons. A black' and whito dimity has tho usual plain full skirt, slightly varied by two rows of heavy white insertion lot in either si do of the front breadth, and live tiny llounces edged abont 1 with swiss embroidery. Tho boilico is j short and full. Either side of tho trout is a full, straight piceo of whito muslin, the embroidery inserted in two rows and edging it. Tho alcoves are full, pulled to the elbow, plain, tightly titled below with rows of iu* rtion overlaid lengthwise, I *