Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, November 17, 1872, Page 5

THE CHIUAGU VAILY TRIBUN SUNDAY, NUVEMDER 17, IOTZ. 2 THE FASHIONS. Tatest Modes for Fall and Winter. Dress Goods, Cloakings, Furs, Boots and Shoes, Fans and Belts, Fichus and Ties. Bonnets and Hats, Shawls, Polonaises ‘and Cloaks. Breakfast, House, Carriage and Recep- tion, Walking, Wedding, and Evening Dresses. Since Fashion first threw off the guiding hand of her Mentor, Reason, snubbed Good Taste, end clasped hands with Folly, ehe has never eppeared to indulge in wilder vagaries or more €antestic whims then st present. Yet thereis method in her, madvess, and from Chaos is svolved Beauty. Decked i 2ll the colors of the rainbow was once considered to be the most com- prebensive criticism that could be passed upon any fair demoiselle who was & votary st Fashe ion's shrine, but rainbow-hues are out of date, end earth, sea, and sky have been forced to pay tribute to the new shades and combinations that science has produced to gratify & versatile world. Foremost among these, we find the grestest variety in SILE GOODS. Among the colors for evening wear are all the delicate tints,—Blondin, Mignonette, Pale Sage, XNile, and Serpeut greens, Polsr Sky, and Sea- Fcam. For dinner and carriage dresses, are shown darker ehades of Serpent and Sage greens, Navy blue, Sepia, London Smoke, Plam, Lizard, Bronze, and Peacock greens, Jaguer, snd, last of all, Pain-Brale (or Burnt-Bread) color. These nentral and composite shades have quite super- seded the bright tints that Iris bestowed, while the delicate nuances and harmonions blendings are a rest to the eye, which has ‘been surfeited with intense hues. Yo wear gay colors now is to admit that ope i§ behind the zge. All these new shades are to be found in faille and gros-grain, while most of them sre repested in Brocades, of which one, s deli- cate Bea-Foam in color, might have been woven for Undine herself. Black silks, brocaded with tlue snd brown, and also with gay colors, are 250 found, while Blondins, Sage greens, and Tesedas are shown covered with garlands of goy fcwers. These make handsome overdresses for yorug ladies, to be worn over petticoats of & daiker shade than the ground of the polonaise, 2nt should also have the Louis-Quinze vest, and square pockets of the material of the skirt. A nowlty which is meeting with much favor this season is the Bicilienne, This is a brocade silk, witha diagonal, rep-like serge, the finest qual- jiiesof which come in petierns, tied up in car- toops, with a printed design of the mode in which this elegant overdress sbonld be made. These goods are also £old by the yard, and are designed to be worn over gros-grain or faille ekirta. WOOL GOODS. In woollen fabrics we bave camel's hair, Cach- emire, Carmelite Sni.:sundmased Cachemire), Bi- arritz cloths, popling, epingelines, satines, an the cheaper grades that are well known.® Bro- caded poplins_imitate the silks closely, and a mixed silk and wool goods is also a cheaper sub- etitnte for the expensive Sicilienne. d GLOAKINGS. First, of conrse, on the list. comes black vel- vet, which is elaborately trimmed with lace and jet; followed clogely by camel’s hair, heavily em- roidered in worsted and silk. Heavy gros- ins ead Sicilionges requiro liiog i vad- g, but, thus made sufiiciently warm, find fa- ~or withmany. Soft, thick, spongy cloths, in Navy hlue and dark brown, bid defizace to the Epow-King, and make one almost wish for his advent to test their quality. FUBS. Like velvets in cloakings, so does Bussis sa- ble among fars hold pre-eminence, and, though ‘never subject to the caprice of Fashion, like the costly India shavl, it i6 too éxpensive for an bat tne fevored few of Fortune, Seal-skin sti Tolds its own, snd is somewhat more expensive +2an it was last year. tl ismdeint]l:le sim) I;st forms for over-garments. Alaska sable o, to 2 certain extent, superseded by black lyns. Silver fox is a fragile fur, used for tnmmm‘gva'l- Set, and is expensive. The common gray fox is 3 minch cheaper substitnte, Mink is considered Dasse among the lovers of novelties. Chinchills {5 once more in demsud, snd is much used for hildren. For the m little ones, white cony 25 the preference snd & sacque &nd cap, with tos and muff, comprise the outfit. Seal- caps &re s comfortable addition to s soung Lds's wardrobe, but are not improved by the sdition of feathers and ribbons, which are an fimovation of the present sezson. ‘BOOTS AND SHOES. ! The high-heeled Louis-Quatorze boathasgone by, end the apparent arch which it gate to the instep, from which an Arab might have inferred /thet each American woman, from Midss’ daugh- terto Jobn Huckster’s, was of princelylinesge, 1o longer exists. . With the advent of low, square heels, the chiropodiet will probably find his oc- cupation gone, when the comfort of the present style has cured the evils which the last one in- duced. Ledies’ walking boots are not cut quite 25high, but still are fastened with battons, and #re in perfect teste, being made of mat and glove id, quite plair, and stitched with black,—all cuperfiuons orasment having also passed by. High slippers of bronze are ghown for house- wear, while kid boots, both white and in colors, are in order for evening toilettes. .. FANS, BELTS, EIC. Fans are circular in shape, made ofeilk or Rus- sinleather, with tortoise-chell handles. Thefan of @intylace and gatin, with pearl sticks, is derig- eurfor fashionsblo evening toilettes; while, for theopera or thestro, a very pretty design conaists ofelicate carved ivory sticks and white satin. Ti» Russis leather belt, with steel or giltmonnt- ing,—tha lutter being considered the most de- sirble,—is guch & conventent addition to & 1n4's foilette, when shopping or travelling, that weshall hate to see Fashion gecide that it is no loger good_style. It takes charge of so many thigs which & woman is constantly losing or miwying, that it is a very helpful servitor in- ded.” To it is atiached the shopping-bag, also of Zussia_leather, which ia tteqap with pune gers, button-hook, kmife, scissors, thimble, and Snco for the pocket-book. It also caries & far nmbrells, and mouchoir, and _will be found cepcially serviceable in_iwinter, leaving one's bads free either to bold up the skirts, which Fmion decrees must be demi-trained, or to'let. thn nestle warmly inside the muff. Portmon- nse are of Russialeather or seal-skin. The Iebr are handsomely finished with gilt clasps, s1lined with silke. FICHUS, TIES, ETC. W . ichus are ehown in crepe de Chine. with ‘hdsome knotted fringes, or trimmed with Va~ {eiennes lace. They are in the delicate shadea wch obtain in silks. The hankderchiefs of In- Zailk, which hava been somewhat worn, have per met with popular favor. They were in ¢ bright colors tolook well on the street, fhgh not displensing at the theatre, or when o with e costume. Ties are found in Shades of color, made of soft serge silk, and fa most graceful bows and knots. When tied W white Swiss or organdie, they are particu- 1g pretty. The?mvulm» g style has brocaded ex. Buttons of oxydized filver. and steel s in antique designs, are among the novel- ti Jet ornaments are produced in the great- evrofusion, and are used whenever an excuse csbe found for them. Veils are still shown w plain foundation, snd Spanish or Chantilly Isedges. As théy have mot the beautifyin et of the scraps of dotted lace, it is nof sable that they will be long held in favor. are, however, considered the most distingue afesent. In lingerie, the standing English zer with broken points, and flaring cuffs, are drable for morning costume. For er dises, handsame laces replace them; and, for Ziage dress, Irills of Valenciennes, with jabots phe same lace, complete the toilette, 3 BONNETS AND HATE. 'hese, in ehape, are one and the game,—both Ing worn 50 a3 to show the lairin front,— tisddition of strings constituting o bonnet, ol the want of them o hat. Felts have been nch worn during the fall, and will continue in For throngh the winter. | Among the prevail.- i styles ave the Alpine, Comet, Queen, St. {Fnes, and Lentner. ‘These sre trimmed with #b eerge silks, Btiff wings, and ostrich-tips. Bands of peacock-eyes are also, much worn, with ottes of the same. The Rubens is a very fisy ronnd bat,—the imported ones being made of Soft puffs, end trimmed with feathers and flowers in & contrasting shade. The altitude to which they have resched, exaggerated as it is by the trimming upon them, causes one {0 raise Pl o i onder and postible &we, Bonnets are pincipally of black velvet, but mingled with the trimmings srefeathere in all the new shades, among which ostrich-tips bave the preference, althongh occasional made feathera are seen. Jets bristle and glisten at all angles. The Port- Yoouis je merely & sailor-hat, with faced rim and strings, set far back on the head, and therefore callod & boonet. Dress bonnets are made to order after French designs, but are not usually Jopt on hend, a8 theyare so delicate. Opera and reception bonnets are in the fall shades of faillo ; Blush Rose, Reseda, and Polar-Sky blus predominating. Thess have an admixtura of black velvet or lace, with bows and ends of watered ribbon. Ostrich-feathers and rose-buds are the most desirable trimming for them. EHAWLS. Among these, of course, the costly camel's hairis queén,—tho delight of every woman's eye, the desire of her heatt. Fow, however, can do more then admire st a diBtance, for this costly. patcbwork, woven by the Hindoo, is not for common clay. Handsome shawls cost from $1,500 to_ 3,000, s, smong Europeans, aro Eept as heirlooms. In thiscountry, Mrs. Shoddy occasionally trails one througha railway cat- riage. They are sold a1 low as. $200 and” $300, but a piece of faded drugget would have nearly 28 good an effect. borders, however, may be bought for this price, and are always & nice wrap for a cool day in the intermediate seasons. Since the introduction of the polonaise, shawls have been at s discount. Peisleys are occasionally seen, but the cheaper fabrics have more usually been selected. We are gled to see & tendency toward & blending of col- ors and the introduction of marrow stripes, €0 that every other woman one meets will not_look g8 if she had borrowed a blanket from a sleep- ing-car. A very elegant ehawlisof fine black Cachenire, trimmed with guipnre lace, & quarter of ayard in width, gathered in plaits at the middle of the back, 'snd has & guipure lace hood attached. POLONATSES AND CLOAES. g The most elegant of these, to be worn in full dress for visits of ceremony, aro made of black velvet, elaborately trimmed with Chantilly lace, passementerie, jet, and swinging cords, the lat- ter pendsut from the waist or shoulder .of the garment, They are all elaborately trimmed on the back. All the imported garments in velvet are made in polonaises. The 8acque with cspe is accasionally eeen, but isifitted to the form plaits, and is elaborately embroidered. The finest’ broadcloth and beavy Cachemire are also made in the popular s2cque with cape,—the cape being smaller than it wes last year; cord, satin Stitoh embroidery, passementorie, with jét and ipure lace, constituting the trimmings. The g‘e’l.mm, with its_large sleeves, is also found in velvet, cloth, and_Cachemire, nob infrequently entirely covered with embroidery. A novelty is & long cloak mado of gros-grain, lined with squirrel-skin, and trimmed with otter. It hasa hood at the back in unique design, and is fast- ened with heavy steel clasps. A muff of the silk, edged with ofter, and lined with squirrel, hsving & band of gros-grain ribbon around it, tied into bows with ends, is to be worn with this. Cemel's hair over-garments are embroidered with wool aud silk. They are also edged with fringe and yak laca. They are almost as expen- sive as velvet, and are not suitable for full dress. They are soft and warm, owever, drapinggrace- #ally, and ares desirable addition to & lady's wardrobe. Embroidered Cachemire polonaises are next in order ; after which we notice double- breasted’ redingotes in dark cloths, Navy blue being preferred. The latter have rolling collar and [apels. Jaunty jackets in cloth are sh: the most distingue having only & heavy cord around them, or & narrow band of fur. Bear fringe is also nsed extexsively, and, for colder weather, will trim cloth suits effectively. Far should never be used upon any lighter fabric than velvet orcloth, as it has a tendency to make Cachemire or serge look shabby, and does nob readily accommodate itself to the soft folds in which these goods g0 easily and gracefully fall. Plain repped and brocaded Siciliennes will bo worn at full-dress receptions in colors to har- ‘monize with the dress. Long cls of fine black broedcloth, with folds of heavy gros-grain, are shown for elderly ladies, who prefer something quiet_in &tyle ; but velvet aad lace aro always suited to the dowager, and, when made plainly and richly, are especially adapted to suver-hair- ed matrons or grandmammas. AST-DBLSSES. Among these, most noticoable, and first on the list, are the dainty costumes made of Valen- ciefnes and French mansook. These are peculiarly _suited to Hoimes' per- fect-womsn, Taised under and 1nss, may be worn in a Turnace-beated house "all winter. The most elegant are_made with demi- train and Wattesu polonaise, Noeuds of black velvet, or watered ribbon of & hue to suit the complexion, adorn the fold in the back andfasten it 1n front, while a sash tocorrespond is draped at the left side. These, thongh exceedingly ele- gant, require very superigr luundrying, only ob- tainable at the hands of a French blanchesseuse, and cost nearly a8 much to freshen as they did originally. _The result is, they ave frequently worn unbil their spotless hue is_changed into a French gres. A muchmore simple garment, Shicl: can be made up athome, is of French nan- 800k or Victoria lawn, the front breadth tucked longitudinally, while the back and &idcs have a ide fiounce, gathered with a cord about an inch {rom the top, aud trimmed on both edges with Valenciennes. The Wattean polonaise has a narrower rufiie around it, similar to that on the skirt, while the ribbons and sash are the same s those worn with the more elzborate suits. They may also be made guite plain, or with groups of tucks; sud, when occasion _requires, a sacque of white, scarlel, or bluo cloth, braided, embroidered, or faced with silk, adds brightness and warmthto the costume. For those who prefer_heavior fabrics, thero is, for the nouvelle mariee, 5 white Cachemire robe, with the Watteau plaits in the back, and large Dolman sleoves. This is trimmed with puffings of pale pink or turquoise biue faille down the front and around tue bottom. These are drawn with cords, leaving & frill of the silk t each edge. Three pufis are on each eide of the front, and six are on the bottom. A butterfly bow with loug_ends, in watered ribbon to har- monize_with the trimming, is placed at the top of the WWattesu plait, and 5 sash of similar Tib- bon confines it at the waist. Buttons of carved ivory fasten it down the front, and .the orns- ments are of the same material, “in_dainty bunches of flowers or_the hesds of cherubs. Earrings, lockots, and_bracelets comprise tho sot,_'biaskc velvet tibbon Lolding the locket, while the bracelets are clasped over black velvet bands, Silver filagree is also worn, while mora uniquo still are the setsmad of Lighly-polishod minute white shells, strung on silver wire, which are brought from Florida. Slippers of quilted Cachemire, lined with the silk, and frimmed with bows and_buckles to match the ornaments, complete this recherche costume. A wrapper of Ssge-green Cachemire is cut with 3 basque back, half flowing sleeves, and is trimmed with &_darker shade of faille, edged with yaklace. It is fastened up tho front with elaborate froga of passementerie, and is trimmed down the back of the waist with tho 1ace and swinging cords. _High bronze elippers and coral ornaments complote the toilette. A violet Cachemire wrapper is made quite loose, but ornamented with the new embroidery in worsted and floss. Large square pockets are covered with tho embroidery, as also are the flounces on the sleeves. Slippers of violetsatin, with gold buckles, and ornaments of sntique gold, sre worn with this dross. Wool delaines in foulard patterns make useful breakfast- dsesses for thoso who do not belong to tho lily- of-the-field persuasion, but must occasionally toiland spin when Bridget or Gretchen thinks sho has done enongh. _They may be simply acal- loped and bound. Plain and plaid flaunels are a comfort to the invalid, and do not Tequire much trimming. HOUSE DRESSES. For home toilettes, these may be a8 simplo or 26 ornate 28 the fancy of the wearers may dic- tate. Adressinany of the cloth colors, or in black Cachemire, mey be made with a perfectly lain ekirt, demi-train, aud quite full be- ind. The basque is a deep postillion, and is of velvet of & darker shade, \ritE sleeves of the Cachemire. The overskirt is merely a searf made of the material, trimmed all around with velvet and yak Jace, fastened to the belt in front, gathered high at the sides to simulate a wrinkled apron, and tied liko o sash bebind. Black silk, with Louis-Quinze vest, and over- skirt of violet-Cachemire, and postillion jacket of the same,—the upper-garments trimmed with fringe headed by embroidery,—is very elegant. Blouses made very loose, and fastened at the “waist with an clastic, have taken the place of the more snugly-fitting plaited waist of last sesson. They fall very loosely over the belt, and suggest their title of Sailor shirt. Thesears pretty for children and young ladies of slight figure; but, when -the ‘“beaule du diable” has erished, such garments are decidedly unsuita- lo. Therefore the matron will do well to ig- nore them, unléss she wishes to look like an overgrown school-girl. CARRITAGE AND RECEPTION DRESSES, _ A dress of London Smoke gros-grain is enliv- ened by pipings and fecings of Blondin-faille, a i ¢ pufiing, finished at ‘the bottom with wide, scan b : a narrow ruifle, and at the top with an upright £1ill, faced with the light faille, arranged toshow Squate shawls with India | q s with Indis | fogs of, ok tn points, Tho squate pockols sre like & narrow binding on the right side, trims the back and side widths, The front has eight rufles sewed on longitudinally, also lined with the faille. Small bows of the gros-grain, with one fringéd end of the faille, finish the front. The overskirt commences at the first side-seam, and forms two pointed wings, While tho back i8 cut square, and is_extremely bouf- fant. This is trimmed with a fold Lended with alternate pipingsin the two colors, Wido bows of the dress material, lined with faille, the ends turned back with revers, drape the overskirt on Doth sides. The small basque is pointedin front, and slashed at the back to admit of & sash, while the sleoves are coat-shapod, and trimmed with & falae piece, fastened at tho outer seam With but- tons of the material and loops of the faille. Another dress, of Lizard green, is trimmed on the bottom with orgen-pipe folds and shell trimmings. The overskirt and basque are fin- ished with blue-green feathors from tho pea- cock’s breast, looped at ome side with an aigrette of the same feathors,and upon the other With & broad sash, in which the three shades of bilk are combined. The bsque and sleeves are slashed go as to display puftings of the lightest i ilk. e Kdl?e:t;;lll:’fnck silk has a wide flounce of thread lace, headed with ostrich-feather trimmings; while the overskirt is formed from = large Chan- tilly point, gathered into an apron-front, and formiug scarf-ends behind. ; A bizarre costume i8 of deep antique red and Blondin gros-grain,—tho bindings, facings, and. Sest being of the light sillk. It is made with TLonis-Quinze basque, trimmed with sido plait- ings of the red faced with the Blondini snd lined with and have s revers of the light silk, and the vest is fastenod with dark red coral but- fons. 'The skirt has a side-plaiting of the dress material, headed with five folds of alternate Blondin 2nd red. The whole is suggestive of the present style of bauged hair, and makos one ook for gold sequins as the proper accompany- ing ornaments. ‘A very elogant dress is made of black velvet, the back bresdths being perfectly plain. Tho front is of silk, but o covered with the apron overskirt of velvet and trimmings of the same that it only leaves the box-plaited silk flounce visible, Broad Chautilly lace forms the irim- minge. A dark brown silk poplin is trimmed on the back-breadths with four folds of velvet of a darker shade, graduated from six to four inches, and placed at- corresponding intervals. The front breadth has two velvet bands across the bottom, sbove which is a rufils beld by a bias fold of velvet that passes across the front breadth, being raised a little at the seam, then, dzooping again, passses on to the second sear, and up that to_the waist. Two pimilar rufes meke a tablior on the front ‘breadth, and are held by very lai'ge bows of the poplin and velvet. The basque is entiroly of Velvet, with sleeves of poplin. It 8 cut with & deep postillion at.the back, having emall revers faced with poplin, and is Leld by large buttons at the waist. The front is cut in crenesus, three each side,—the whole finished with double pipings of the poplin. The_sleeves have four Velvot strapa asrons thom, with p;:inufl pendant ends, end are fastened by large butions of the poplin, as is also the corsage. o ‘Another dress, of Sage-greon sorge, is trimmed with velvet of a much darker shade than the material composing the costume. The front breadth is covered with Lilt plaifs, from the waist to the hem, of alternate serge und velvet. On the back-breadths are five flounces,—threo of volvat and two of serge,—reaching nearly to the waist. The polonaise is double-breasted, with velvet-rolling collar and lapels, while the back-breadths are long, but looped to the waist in the centre, and held by an immense sz3h-bow of the velvet 2nd buttons, falling gracefully in points, and displaying the trimming on the skirt. WALKING DRESSES. To spesk of _ these soems slmost an act of su- pererogation in this city, which outvics Wash- Ington in its magnificent distances, and where & carriage is quite as muck a necessity as 1 luxury. Still, no lady will go shopping en grande {ene, and, though modistes show elaborate silks when asked for walking dresses, they are nof: in good taste for morning wear. Black eilk, elf- trimmed, Gochemires and popiine in (H cloth colors, finished with velvet bands, yak lace, or fringe, are_serviceable, and not “too dressy. These, made with_demi-train, and raised to & comfortablo length with buttons snd loops, which are cancealed by the polonsise, are fin- ished by & camel's hair Dolman. Black silk, eelf-trimmed, and not, overloaded ~with jeb, is always acceptable ; while ladies’ clcith, finished with® velvet in the dark shades, and trimmed with bear fringo when mado up’ in black, will find favor a8 the seagon advanc 2a. Buckskin gloves, or those of undressed kid,. with two or three buttons, in shades to match i he dress, are requisite, Jewels should never be worn in the street, with these costumes, ~Coral may be used occasionally, but plain gold, tortoi: te-shell, and jet are the only uitable material fo r ornaments. Lie black kid but, later in the season, may be_tri mmed at the Sopwith fi to match thst wam in p3ul sacque, or boa. . ot mentioned before:i8 de rigeur, WEDDING DEESUES. “ What areyou going to be ‘married in ?" is the first question that all her lady friends, old and young, put to the newly-annotmeed fiancee. While the bridegroom elect giv.es his tailor carfe blanche, only stibulating for &ho latest cut, and finding that his cost-collar fits_to s nicety and the garment does not wrinkle 111 the back, is at peace with himself and all the “world, the bride- that-is-to-bp is in & state of the11st entrancing but perplesing bewilderment. £0 many mate- rials to choose from and such a wide range of {rimmings and styles to adorn it with and meke it up by, make the question a ditficult one to an- swer. A dresp of white crope de Chine, over croamy white faille, j8 trimmed with point d'Alencon about three inches wide. The und erdrees is por-~ fectly plain. The overdress has Jioose antiquo slceves, lined with the faille, and trimmed with lsce. Itisdraped on ono side witl & essh of crepe de Chine, knotted and held .by a bouguet of bridal roses,—s not unplessing innovation. A Watteauspiral of lace adorns ttwe back, and trims tho heart-shaped front. The veil, of double tulle, s fastened with the sa me fowers ; while the corsage bouquet alo consisits of brida roses. The arnsments are pearls, and the en- tire dress is 8o simple in detail as to seem suit- able for & Quakercss bride. An imported dress, of much more elaborate design, is of the hoaviest white satin. The front i6 trimmed en tablior, with point flounces over tulle pouffes. Bouillonnees of tulls, with pipings of velvet and satin, form & wing over the side breadths, while the back breadths have flounces of Point d'Aiguille. The corsage is round, covered with point lace znd tulle.” The veil s also of tho same costly lace 28 the trim- ming ol the drese, the richness and beauty of ‘which almost begkar description. Orange blos- soms hold the veil and deck the corsage, while Rumor asserts that a magnificent pavure of dismonds—s bridal present from the happy and wealthy suitor—will complete this magnificent toilette, "The dresses for the bridesmaids, which wers also imported, are of white Chambery gauze, elaborately ruffled,—the overskirt snd headings of the flounces baving delicate_embroidery of forget-me-nots, eglantines, and Marguerites, worked on tullo, cut out, and used as trimming. They are the daintiest, most fairy-like. products imsginable. The low, Tound coresge i8 orna- mented with a profusion of tulle and this fanci- {ul embroidery,—while the flowers that accom- pany these dresses rival Nature herself. EVENING DBESSES. These are in combinations of silk, velvet, tulle, gouze, and crepe de Chine. The latter drapes exquisitely, and is shown in all the choice new colors. It may be trimmed with lace, or, in im- ported garments, has & netted fringe mado on the fabric. One dressis of white gauze over Ocean-Foam faille, the embroidery and orna- ‘ments being lotus-blossoms, the latter beld in place by branches of coral, while the scraps of sleoves are confined on the shoulder by clasps of coral. A dress of Turquoise—blue faillo and velvet—lias for ornaments roses in seven differ- ent shades; while another strange . cos- tume contains a combination of purple and blue, A black gauze for lady in mourning is profuse- 1y jotted with tiny cut beads, and has a sash of Teavy double-faced watered ribbon, and garniture of English violets. IS A dress of illusion faille, which, with pearl- gray, is the fashionable color for brides, is trim- ‘med 'with slternate folds of the silk and- crops de Chine on the back breadths and belf way up the front. These are arrsnged longfiuuamuy. The front breadth is covered by a tablier formed of lnce, A very bouffant-overskirt is left open in the back, and trimmed withi lace, a8 i also.the basque. For a dowager, an_elegant dress of black vel- vet, trimmed with Chantilly and Point-lace, sug- gests the diamonds which are its proper accom- panying ornaments. It is made with quite lon train, cie black breadths plain, the front trimmer with & spiral of Chantilly that nearly covers it ; while the basque is edged with & heavy cord. cut Pompadour in front, and filled in With point. The wide Grecian sleeves are lined with white natin, and finished with lace. Undersleeves of Brussels net, with péint rufiles and s head-dress of the lace, finish this costume. A A mauve moire, made perfectly plain, has an overskirt of Chine crepe, with fringe woven in, 2nd avine of eglentine embroidered on the edge. The revival of moires and heavy silk with velyet flowers brocaded upon it, mey at last tend to bring back simplor atyles, which will bo' grested with & sigh of relief by.many. - Tho only other dress which we' bave space to notice i one of Mignonette gros-grain, trimmed with jsguar velvet, and intended for a middle- aged lady, It is made with s round body, cut hgur%ahzxefl, but_has a Louis-Quinze_ basque, with which it can be nsed as a carriage dress. | Discellnneous Notes. Hummipg birds sre extensively used as orna- ments-on the naw. Parisien bonnets snd hats. —Breakfast_jackets of light blue cashmere, ‘bound with velvet, are very much in style. —The duty on imported bridal trousseaux amounts to about as much as the outfit costs abroad. —The Duke of Edinburg's waltz ‘ Galates,” has reached New York, and is played with great success at all fashionable entertainments. _ “—The latest fashionablo chaussure for ladies is the *Orloff boot.” The difficulty in some cages, however, is to get it orl-on. —Icmd.ies just reftnmr:rl_ froiln fibma,d 1:yxhibic a great quantity of tortoise-shell jewelry, which ey oirm to be highly fashionsbls in London and Paris. % —For riding, the correct thing for the modem awell is white corduroy trowsers and high top Doots, bisck velvot coat and black Oxford hat, —Gentlemen will be glad to know that there is no changein full-dress suits. They remain of plain black broadcloth, with no deviafion in the time- honored style whatever. —Travelling suits are now. made—as they weré gome years ago—of Navy-blue cloth, made ‘with long redingotes, buttoned down'the front with two rows of oxidized silver buttons. —A “finger-nail artist”—whatever he or she may be—comes from Paris with innumerable credentials, and hes opened an office in New: York. - ~The present absurd fashion of wearing the front hair * banged” originated in Englich nur- series, whers the hair of very young children is | cut in this fashion.to keep it out of their eyes. —Oneof the most stylish garments now in vogue smong Iadies is the double-breasted redingote of cashriero cloth. It is convenient either as an independent wrap to wear with va- rious skirts, or as a part of a suit for shopping, travelling, and genersl use. BY THE RIVER. 1lis upon a bank, Ere the coming of the storm, And 1dly view the sedges bending Each slight form. And see the leaflets sail 0n the mimic acesn’s waze; ‘Without a captain or & crow, ‘Storma they brave. And, with 8 stretch of thonght, ‘See cloud-armies in the sky ; ‘How awift the troopers come to fight, And to die. Wiatch them as they fly, ‘Runping races in the wind, Like the memories of a dresm In the mind. Like mountain-peak upburld, See that monstrous ehape of black Embrace those lovely, fiescy waifs " In ita track. Ah! translent shapes of air, “Like my varied dreams are you ‘Yon rosy-odged are those of yore; Yea, how trae. Yon cumbrous, shapeless mass 1Is the present ; see it low'r, And dark it growe, and darker yet, ‘With the hour. The sun will rout the clonds, End with rainbow-sword the strife ; But, ah ! the sunlight comes no more Tomylife. ‘The grass is on her grave,— ‘Ever grows, and ever will. Come back, my bird ; my darling speak ! Allis i, John Brown, Queen Victoria’s Sere vant. From the North British Mail. John Brown, holdiug the envied position of personal attendant to the Queen of England, is peshaps shout a8 genuine o specimen of unso- phisticated humanity 8 this faulty world con- tains, Twenty-fonr years sgo, he was tsken from hia father's house into the Palace, araw, country 1ad, lu_fll & humble situation in the Royal household, his credentials—an honest pa- Tentage and & pair of willing hands. As hisan- ecodonts will show, dJobn Brown was born almost within the ehadow of Bal- morr}, and probably he owes his sound hysical constitution to his hardy upbringing. iy fathor, o small farmer vith & mumer- ous family, gave him what education he could afford; but John set out early in life to seels his fortune. Not far from home he got employment, and gave such_satisfaction that, when be desired to make s change, his master gave him a handsome present in addition to his wages, and parted with him with extreme refuct- ance. 'Bhortlyafterthis, ciroumstsncescalled him home. But he had only returned adsy or two when he was effered situstion at Baimoral Castle, and from that period up to now he has been in the Queen’s service. Fourteen years he served at Balmoral in s humble capacity, and the lato Prince Consort, with whom the young gillie had occasion to come frequently” into contact, discovered = sterling nature hidden under a modest reserve, and, with abundant_opportunity for testi his " principlos, tho Prince's favorable opinion strengthened =8 _time rolled on, although tangi~ ble evidence of Royal favor was withheld for a time. There can be no doubt the Prince Con- sort’s apprecintion of hig services induced Her Majesty to promote John Brown-to_the post he now occupies. He is s man of individuality. You_have but to look st him to goe that. - In height be is what might be termed the me- dium sige, but his powerful, ‘well-knit framo is Bplendidly developed, and shows to great ad- vantage in the costume he wears (full Highland dress). Thero iy much character in the broad, Inassive brow, the kecn shrewd oyes, the firm realute, kindly mouth. You instinctively feel in Jooking at him that had ho been educated up to his abilities, b would bave been s man of mark ¢ The meagre advantages afforded in his youth for mental culture have, however, been Tichly supplemented by Dother Nature. His address ia not polished, but'there is asingular attractive- Dess in his open, frank, manly manpers. His homely speech suits him best, he will tell you Ianglingly, and therein he showshis good senso. Passing over minor details, there can be no uestion of his fitneus for the situation he holds. For instance, ab Balmoral be is valuable as & re- liablo guide and trusty guardian. His intimate knowledge of the country, in all its aspects, and the people, 18 of great importance, and his quick perception and _presence of miad render him & gafe pioneer. On more than one occasion ho has ‘bronght his groyal mistress out of peril. 1 shall give a solitary instance. Tho Quoen, accompa- pied by twoof her daughters, was returning to ‘Balmoral after -a visit to Glaesalt, when sud- Genly the horses started aside_from s neéw road thoy were unaccustomed to. It was an awkward 5ot for an accident, but John Brown, reslizing the dapger at s glauco, vociferated “ Bull up " so vigorously to the coschman that serious conse: quences were averted. Asit was the carriage was overturned, and the Royal party were thrown out. At s little distance the coachman lay in- sensible. The oukrider was on befare, and onl! John Brown remained to do daty for all, : Under the_trying_circnmstences many men ‘would have Iost their head, but, with amazin coolness, he whipped out his clasp-knife, an quietly cut the traces to froe the struggling animals, and bore the occupsnts of the carriags tos placo of eafety. 1tis alloged ihat only {or s moment vas he perplexed when his lamp went out, snd an emphatio exclamation escaped his lips, which the Royal ears that heard it, con- strued into an ejaculatory prayer. The outrider chanced to look Tound ashe galloped along, and, seeing no laxps, he rode back to ascertain.what was wrong ; but the danger was past. It is well Jmown that this ready tact has smoothed the Queen's way into the humble Highland-home she has 'honored with her presence, and - the people sre gratefully aliva 10 the obligation they are under to John Brown for the footing they 2re on with her Majesty, ‘As one remarked, none could have boen found 0 well adapted to bring the Quoen and her low- Iy Highland neighbors together. ‘ You -see he i ong of onrselves, and his familiar faco beside ‘Tor Majesty puts heart into us.” “Without 8 native pioneer it can esaily be im- agined how difficult it would have been for tho Uneen to make her way amongst & paople whose Jangusge and manners and customs were strange to her. . And, upon the other band, how little sympathy, there could have been between the - exalted lady apd the simple cotiars. -An attendant, of ready tact 18 John EBrown, and hed. he not been so I will be bound 10 8ay the Queen, in apiteof all her gracious con- descension, would have been & terror in the homee where she is a most welcome visitor. Her Majeaty sometimes makes her calls upon ‘“‘un- Tortunate” days—when a * cleaning™ is_going on, and ibere is & thorough turn-np in the honse- hold. Onsuch occasions an oidinary herald would be nonplussed, brobdbly, but not he. Coolly seeking out the gudesife, he informs her officially that the Queen is at the door, and in the same breath rates her soundly for not being ‘Detter prepared to receive +* Her Majesty.” Heo does not Jeave her_in .the . Iurch, however, bat vigorously sets to work to whisk pails and brdomg out of sight, and make things straight before the Royal visitor appears on the scene. HADDON HALL AND -RUGBY. An Old Feudal Hall on the River Wye. The Chapel, the Ball-Room, the Kitchen, the Dining-Room, and the Terrace. The Legend of Dorothy : Vernou. Tom Brown's School==The Rooms and Grounds-=" Mugby Junction.’ From Our Own Correspondent. BaaLry, Oct. 16, 1672, Perhaps Haddon Hall may be well known to many of your readers, but it is so interesting & place, and so full of romantic and historic asso- ciations, that I think I must write you a few words about it, in the hope that, to some, at Teast, this old castlo may not be alresdy & trite subject. The chief interest of thoplace consists in the fact that it is AN OLD FEUDAL HALL, kept up exactly 2s it used to be in the olden time, No one lives in it now, and its owner takes tho grestest care that everything ehall be preserved exactly a8 it has been for ages. 1t is situated near the central partof England, in the midatof hilly country. A thick forest surrounds it, and the clear stream of the Wye flows gently 2long beneath its walls. A more beautiful and romantic situation for an ancient castle could scarcely be imagined. The very choicest of pas- toral landscapes lies about it, and from its lofty watchtower the eye roams over fertile vallys, greem hills, dark woods, and glittering streams. It wag built away back in the Norman times, and ‘was never intended for a fortress, but only for a peaceful dwelling, and its owners have ever beer celebrated for their hospitality. It used to be- long to the Vernon family, but passed from them to Sir John Manners in & most curious and romantic way, 2s I am going hereafter to ghow you. The descendants of Sir John Manners still possess it. The entrance is through a low oaken door, beneath » tower. There is no drawbridge, and no portcullis, for, as I eaid, the Hall is not a fortress. On the right as yon enter is the porter's lodge, & small, low room, looking un- comfortable enough, with its stone floor and walls, and little, latticed window. Passing this, e stand within a large court, paved with flag- stones, and surrounded by the principal build- ings of the Hall. ~Curious water-spouts, carved in all gorts of whimsical shapes, project from the eaves above; and at one corner rises 3 high tower, which used to be the watchtower. Tra- versing the court, we reach s small door, which opens into THE CHATEL, & very old and most curious room, built in the Norman style. Here ate still the well-worn oaken seats, and the pews where the lords of the castle sat, fenced off from the vulgar b high screens of ornamented wood, once ic with gilt, but now ssdly tarnished. Thero are traces of painiings on the walls, and a little stained glass still remains in the windows, so that the chapel was egrobnbly once quite & rich and highly-decorated room. The pulpit still remains, and behind it is a curicus confos- sional, fo which & _dilapidated fiight of stairs leads up. The ancient font, too, 8 atill here. But the chapel is by no means so interestin, 28 many other parts of tho Hall. Passing bac] into the court, we sscend a short flight of steps, and enter the state apartments. The bedrooms are still hung with lape!h;]y, and behind it lurk, perhaps, many s secret, ddor and hiding-place, cnown only to the castle's lords, One canuot help imagining mysterious passages, and dark corri- dors, and hidden closets bere. The whole place seoms wild and strange, and fit foracts of feudal violence and treachery. THE STATE BALL-ROOX is a noble apartment, all panelled and ceiled in dark oak. A great bay-window projects from one side, and forms & large recess, from which beautiful views of the surrounding country msy be obtained. “This ample room Beoms exectly fitted for the stately minuet and the grave dances of the olden time. From one endof it, & door opens into & passage which lesds out to the -terrace, where, I daresay, the gay knights and ladies would go out and walk in the moon- light, when wearied with the dance. There i8 also & retiring-room near by, whera those who did not care to_join in the dance might sit apart in quiet. From one of these state apart- ‘ments, & narrow, winding stairway Jeads into the ‘watchtower before mentioned. Here are rooms for the archers; for even a peaceful feundal dvwelling could not be withont some defenders in case . of need. There are suitable places hers for keeping bows and arrows, and_aluo & sort of framework fixed in the wall, which was used in stringing bows. Leaving this part of the building, we descend again to the great court, and pass nuder an arch- way into a smaller court, from which open out the rooms of the servants, THE KITCHEN, and the various storehouses.” Ths kitchen has still its old oven, its oak helves, its tables, and all the conveniences requisite for the feudal cuisine. It is evident our forefathers were not averse to hash; for, in one_ Of the heavy ok slabs which- were used a8 side-fables, are two round cavities scooped out, wnerein much hash ‘’has evidently been manufactured; for. the firat cavibi' was worn clear through by the blows of the cleaver before the second was scooped out ; and the second would not havo laated much longer, bad time aliowed the ancient style of cooking to go on, ‘There is a butchery next_to the kitchen, and evidently the cook or his assistants lad to kill the animals, as = well as . prepare their. meat for the table. Not ~far from the kLitchen is a small aini?-mom, very beautifully panelled and ceiled with richly carved oak. There is s fine oriel window at one end, and through iis dia- mond-shaped panes are seen the waving trees ‘2nd brighc flowers of the garden. The pantry, in which are fit recoptacles for bottles of wine, opens out of ihis room ; and near tho oriel win- dow still stands the mighty bronze punch-bowl which was used in the old times. But this is only the privato dining room. When the hospitable lozds of Haddon wonld give a feast, they would epread thé table in a NOBLE BANQUETING HALL 0 nosrby. A lofty, epacious apartment it is, with ‘beams of 08k, and stone-paved floor. The very table still is here, round which g0 many merry revellers have sat. 1tis of oak, and is all un- even and rubbed away by the friction of whole generations of heavy platters and dishes.” This table stands upon a little dais, alighll{ elevated above tho rest of the room. The tablo for the Tolsiners and servants was probably in the lower part of the apartment. Ab the opposite end of the room from the lords” table is & spacious minstrels' gallery, which i8 con- nected, by a separate entrance and a long corri- dor, with the state apartments before mentioned. Hore, then, the noble lords of Haddon sat ‘zbont their mighty punch-bowl, with their friends around them. _Horo they fessied and listened to the lofty strains of minstrels’ music. Again and again would the cup go round, and woe to ‘him who refusedit. His punishment was indeed ignominous. There is in this room s €0rt of semi- circular iron hoop, fastened at one end to the wall, and capable of being made fast at the other. If any luckless’ wight turned traitor and Tofused the cup, ho was drsgged to this hoop, and ope of his wrists was festened within it. Then cold water was poured down his slesve auntil it ran ont on the floor below! ‘Having now completed the tour of the most interesting apartments, we may step outupon THE TERBACE,— eatest besuties of the whole caatle, 254 ceriagaly one of the most romantic spotsin the world. Grest yew trees, bundreds of years old, with thickly-interlacing branches, shade thid Tovely place, aud on old ‘stone balistrade, moes-grown and green with_ time, one sido of it. Leaning on this balustrade, an looking out from beneath the yew trees, we see a most charming view. ‘On our right stands the Hall itself, with a1l its Iatticed windows, ita tur- Tets, and its walls of sombre gray, Immediatel before and beneath us is a garden, rich wil bright groen turf and prilliant fowers. Beyond rise noble trees; and, throngh openings be- tween them, we catch glimpses of the silvery stream of the Wye, the green meadows along its banks, and the glne, distant hill beyond. ~Fit place for a poet's musings, or for lovers to walk one of the ;:sdlgéga n;oox]l’lxi!g?tl A ffl;ght of stone ;Wps d wn to this terrace rivate door, which is called e 4 : DOROTHY VEENON'S DOOR ; and “thereby hangs a tale,” which I am goingto tell you, as it is intimately connected with the history of Haddon Hall : Dorothy Vernon was the daughter of Sir George Vernon of Haddon Hall, and, as her father had no sons, she was the heir of his es- tates. Now, Sir George was & proud man, and he desired Lis beautiful dsughter to marry some rich and distinguished nobleman, whose alliance would bring honor and strength to his house. But the maiden had a tender heart, which was Dot proof against the power of lovo, and she gave it away to Jobn Manners, whowasa young- erson of a noble house. Manners dared not come and woo the fair Dorothy in her father's halls. He could not hope to be an_acceptable suitor in the eyes of one who had such high sm- Dition for his danghter as had Sir George Ver- non. But love is never without resources. Dis- guised 28 8 forester, Manners lurked in the for- ests about Haddon, and thither would Dorothy come to meet him, when she could steal awey from the castle. There, benesth the spreading oak, would the lovers wan- der, securely = gheltered and concealed from the proud father’s jealous eyes. But thera was always the fear that Dorothy might at any time be commanded to_give her hand to some suitor of her father's choice, and to hom she conld never givo her heart. The thought be- came unouu-~able; 8o, one day, Manners per- suaded his lady-love to consent to an elopement wrth him. That night, there was to be & great feast at Haddon ; and, 28 ovening drew on, the noble ball-room vas all brilliently lighted, and everyihing prepared for the gay festivities. The strains of joyous music began to resound through the hall, as the noble guests assembled and joined in the dance. Lords and ladies, all guttering with bright attire, now 2l tho zoom, With stately grace, a noble knight and_besutifal Iady step forth and dance a minuet. The ball is at its height, and *“All goes merry 13 a marriage- Dell.” But ‘there is one among tho gay throng whose henrt is far away. The soft music de- lights not her ear, nor can all the brilliantsplen- dor please her eye. Like an imprisoned bird, sho longs to fly ont_from this, her gilded cage. There she stands, the fair Dorothy, joining mot in_ the dance, but ever drawing nearer and nearer to yonder door in that retired corner of the room. Her hand ia on the latch. Just now bresks forth a_londer burst of music, a8 the lord of the castle himself steps out with & lovely dame to join the minuet. AIl eyes are_turned toward him. Quick a8 thought does Dorathy press down tho lach. Tho door is opened and sbat, and, all uuperceived, sho stands without in tho dark passage, A few swift steps, and she has reached the outer door. Softly she unfastens it, and now she is_ontside, in tho clear moonlight. Rushingdown tho stono steps that lead to the terrace, she speeds, like 3 white dove, under the low, arching branches of the yews, through which the moonlight strug- gles, and sheds & faint, uncertain light upon the path. She has paseed the terrace, and now as- cends a flight of ateps thet lesds’ to o garden above it. She gains the top, and there falls fainting in her lover's arms. He lifts ber from the ground, and with swift, strong step, rushes through the garden, leaps the low wall at the “further end, and reaches s grasey glade, where his 'trusty steed, and also s pal- frey for his lady, stand waiting. An insisnt more, and both arein the saddle and galloping avway through the moonlit meadows, and along the banks of the Wye, far away to the castle of John Manners' father. All pursuit wes vain. The fugitives wero_too quick, and long beforo Dorothy was missed from the gay ball-réom, eho ‘vas miles away with her lover, nor conld any one tell in which direction they had gone. And so, next morning, thys loving pair were married, and it is snid they lived most happy and contented lives, And 80, too, did Haddon Hall pass from the Vernon fo the Manners family, and the descendants of this happy conple still possess it. This romantic legend gives an additional inter~ est to s place IN ITSELF MOST CHABMINGj 2nd the door by which Dorothy escaped, and the steps which lead from it down to the terrace, are always pointed out with great care by the guide, and looked nb with much interest by every visitor who cares_anything for romance or story. Haddon Hall js slso the scens of the “Mysteries of Udolpho,” and much postey and prose havo been witten sbout ity 2ud about thé history of Dorothy Vernon. Con- sidering all its various attractions, there are fow places in Englead better worth teeiog thin Haddon, and no trip throngh England would be complete without & visit to it. Tliere is one other place about which I must ssy 8 fow words beforo leaving England, and atis RUGBY. 0f course, every one has read Tom Brown,” and is, on that account, interested in seeing this old echiool._Itisnot & very atiractive-looking buildiog. It is built of yellow brick, which has grown rather dirty and dark with time, The architecture is very plain and_simple, snd thero i8 not the slightest aitempt at ornament in the old part of the building. They have built a new chapel, whichis hardly yet quite fimished, and this i8 & very rich and ornsmental structure; but the school, 85 it was in Tom Brown's time, could Doast very little besuty. On entering, we stand ina quadravgle, about which the school is built. A tower rises from one side, and in it is a huga clock the very clock to which advepti- nous om and East climbed up, snd whose dig~ nified motion was stopped while they wrote their names upon its hends. From this quadrangle we got into the various hails and rooms, Among em is the fifth-form hall, where Tom was ronsted, and the grate before which he was tor-- tured i8 pointed out by the guide. THE FAMOUS SIXTH-FOEM room is not far off, where the Doctor used to teach. The ssme curious little desks, complete- 1y covered with names deeply cut into the it have been there for ages, are still used, an preserved with the grestest care. The Doctor's chair and desk are Lept in another part of the Duilding, and are no longer nsed. All tha seats and desks are of the plainest possible descrip- tion, and it is very evident that the authorities of the achool do not think it expedient for the bogs to be foo comfortable. There is a fine lavatory in another part of the gchool, and many large and commodious recitation’ and lec- ture rooms, much beiter ihan the old ones, havo recently been added. Tom Brown's study is always pointed out, and the de- Bcription he gives of it is not at all exaggerated. It is certainly one of the smalles places to bs called & room I ever saw. Just room enough to turn round in, and yet two or three boys used to congregate here. Theso studies ara on the ground floor. They Lave only one yery small Window, and it seems ag if they conld hardly be very bealthy places, though the English boys seem to thrive in them. A door leads out from tho quadrangle to the FOOT-RACE AND CRICKET GROUND, & most extensive and_beautiful field, with Tows of lofty trees running the whole length of it. st where We are standing,—in tho corner made by tho chapel and the achool,—the fights used to come off, and thers took place the com- bat between Tom and the “ Slogger.” Yonder i the turret in which is the stairway leading to the Doctor's rooms, snd there is the very door from whick be strode at the time of the fight. ‘All these places are most interesting; and to.raad “Tom Brown,” and then visit Rugby School, gives one & very good idea of English school 6. Rugby also _derives an interest from the psa of another writer, Charles Dickens, the ecee of ‘whose 2 *3rUgBY JUNCTION " is 1aid here. The ladies who muuage the re- freshment-room at the station are the same oues whom he ridicules in the * Boy at Mugby,” and, naturally enough, they are rather tender on tha subject of this_story, and do not care to talt abontit, Norisitfor sale at the bookstand in the station. Bub how great is the power of ridicule! Dickens found the restaurant here, an uncomfortable, inhospitable place. He hes loft it tho best reilway eating-house in England, 80 far as I have seen. Many of the French deli- cacies to which he 5o feelingly alludes are now to be had hers, and I bave seen them mowhere elee. Little lunches all ready to take into the cars, emall wine-bottles, which can be put right in the pocket, good sandwiches, and, in fact, s . great variety of mcs‘ly«gxe ared viands, may now e found here; and the English public must thank Dickens ihet it is go. And so I leave England, feeling sure that thero are few countries in the world that have so much to reward and delight the traveller, Imay hereafter send you some letters descriptive of German life. W.C.L. Fido’s Latest Feat. From the Memphis Appeal, Peter Bean was digging awell on Front, street, 1ot far from his lodgings. He had reached a depth of forty feet, and was still industrionsly delving iv the earth. What hislonely thoughts were down there inthat narrow hole is only known to the angels that foreake not & man, no matter into what cave or dark re- cesses 'he may penetrate. His assistant on the surface of the earth had just hanled up & buckotful of dirt, which was carried to some distance arid emptied out, and the bucket, de- tached from the rope, a8 usual, lay on the edge of the pit. Peter was below wiping his brow or cheerfully delying, no one knownwgnt, ‘when his faithful dog, baving, got loose, rushed mad) and excited animal bounded toward the pit to bark down to his friend at _the bottom, knowing he would get a friendly answer., This enthual- astic friendship of the dog proved the deathof themsan, In jumping to the edga of the pit be drove the bucket before him into it. Thera was nothing heard afterward but a low, painfo groan, and all was etill below in the darkand narrow hole. y ‘When Peter was taken out it wa3 found the the bucket bad split his head in two. He died instantly. Justice Spellman held an inqnest iz an hour or so afterward, and the jury, having be- come acquainted with these facts, gave their verdict accordingly, Isying all the blsme of tho terrible accident on the dog—the last creature b earth that would have injured or allowed others to injure s hair of his master. § Bo great was the grief or affliction of the azi- mal on finding that the cold hand of Peter ca- resged him ro more, and the voice of Peter failed o roply to his {riondly yelpe, that b lav unds: thedead man's couch yesterdayand died himseif. THE PRINCE AND HIS RING. . The King wes dead, and the Prince, yocog a=d inexperienced, came’ to the throve. But, & canse he feared God and loved justice, hie £b: from exercising authority, and care sat heas hisheart. Greatly he desirad to associate him in the government good and wiso men while he doubted and feared, the days went . and the vacant offices were still uutille. Judgment was not executed, for the: Were no Judges; the c the innocent wera not redressed, n were the guilty punished. The peopls m ‘mured ; bnt still the Prince hesitated and fear toact. Atlength be sent for Anciris, the mag cian, and said: ‘Fashion for me & talixma-. that shall reveal to me the hearts of men. le. no evil in deed or word or thought exist tha: shall not be revealed by the talisman which thot. sbalt create.” O, mighty Prince,” eaid dn- ciris, ““to hear is to obey, and the thing whic thou hast commanded shall assuredly be doue.” Again_the days went by, and the peop: marvelled that still the’ Prineo delsyc, to organize his Cabinet and name b Prime Minister. And many evil thiugs wers done on account of the unseitled state of tho empiro; but the Prince said nothing, thinkir . “Qnly s few days more and all will be mads right,” At length Anciris appesred, and ehowe:l the Prince & marvellous ring. It was inscribe.. swithin and withont with sacred symbols and ws s not with rare gems. It had, moreoser, ths double power of rendering its Wearer invisibl. and revealing tohim all’ the evil that dwelt i.: the hearts of those upon whomhe chanced t.. look. “Now shall I be sble to choose my oficers with wisdom,” eaid the Prince, *‘ and {oadminig~ ter the lawa justly, never confounding the inno cent with the guilty. I sball know the inmost thoughts of my nobles, and who are truly at- fached to my _person. No disguise will avail anything, for I shall read men's motives asone reads the pages of an_open book.” So the Prince put the ringupon his finger, and sbout insearch of his master. The vigorous want out to test the virtues of his talieman and gee what was done in the city. At firthe conld Fardly ropress the feeling of indignation {Lat nc ono roso at his coming, that heads remained cov- ered, and the falk went on re 88 of hic presence. Then, rememberin, be was nn- g Been, he addressod himself to the study of char- Boter 88 it was presented to him under this new aspect. He listened to_the conversetiou of the nobles who had been his father’s connsellors, and was shocked to ses the discry epancy batwer: their thoughts and words. tartling rev- olations met him st every tum. Men who had expressed the mtmost deve to his person regarded his_chacacter with secret “contempt, and studied kow they would turn his weakness to their own adv: Those who had profeesed thelove of gelf-seeking and unprincipled. One - est, another covetous; this one lustfal, that oo ambitiops; andéven the aintly Prime Minister— his father's friend—spoke half-truths 2nd had other motives than those he avowed. «Thege are the vices of the rich,” said the Trince. ‘“Among the lowly I shall find che vir- tue that flies the;ul-‘me and the court.” 8o he wandered from street to street, looking info the homes of people in_various conditions. He had asked that the evils of men might ba disclosed to him; but it seemed to him tkacho found nothing but evil. All lives wre black with it, Evil propensities darkened all charec- tors, Even the little children were wanting in innocence,—slready putting forta the symytoms of terrible depravity. At length, overwhelmed with what 12 saw, the Prince retraced his steps to tho palece, and. seeking his private apartment, sent for tho magician. “Take back thy evii giff,” eaid be, plucking the ring from his finger. “Castit into the depth of thesea; nay, hide it at th_centre of the world. Let no man henceforth bekold what I have this day seen. Would that as easilyasl gnt by thy gift I might pntsssy the remem- rance of what it has disclosed. Win back from ve of yeatm’dly the faith I bave loat.’ your majesty,” eaid the magiciaa, *will put the ring on the other hand, you may fird 3 counter charm for the knowledgo which you de- plore; for then ehall you sea the good ic other: and the avil that dwells in your own hezrt.” Again the Prince put the ring upon his finger. and sst silent and with closed eyes, while ali evil hehad ever done, and all that, nader favoring circumstances, he mighthsve done, was reveslec: fohim. Raising, at length, his streeming eyes toheaven, he said: * God. I thank Thee that henceforth I need know the secrets of 1o heart save my own. May its weskness snd sing teach me day by day the leszon of humility. Findin, 8o much imperfection in mysels, lct me not Icok for perfection in others: and, strivingto & prove my life, may Ilearn charity for all man, and seck ever tobe guided by Thy wizdom, led by Thy truth, even as a little caild is led by hiz father.” That night. as the Prince slept, an argel bors away from his remembrance the visions of i3 dny; and, when next he looked into tho fec: ‘his lords and nobles, into the faces of his Jects—men andwomen and little children—=> saw the good that was in each, the possitin ‘beauty to which, through the ministrations God's providence, they slowly grew. But L evile of his own heart he saw clearly, and by day he put them from him by good works, b= humility, and by uncesaing vigilance.. No longer secking an impossible perfectior, ‘he made the best ugo of ths instruments && hand. Looking for honesty, he developed imposing large trusts, he made men trustw thy; serupulous in bis own life, he made virtac the ‘fashion; and, illustrating an ever - standard of excellence, bis people grew oodness and wisdom. ‘“It is a good thing know the hearts of others,” eaid the Prince “but better to keep one's heart with all dil: gense, for out of it sre the iasues o life.’ Celia Burieigh in the Independen: the 31 BOSTON. * A year ago, the Fire-King ewept The atreets of our Queea City, Chicago. Tho nation wept: Thie world said, What & pit And flung ajar its fusty door, ‘And, from its-mighty treasars stors, ‘Btreams of generousaid did pour, In volumes never known before. Towas worth the ruln that was wrought ; Twas worth the battle that was foughs Between the elements that broaght Down tower and steeple *Twae worth Chicago thua to sea e hand of love snd aympatby Extended far o'er plain sud ses, Byan enlarged bumanity, To aid a atricken people. “To-night another 5ad refrain Ts fashed along the wirs, From Iake to gulf, from matn fo mals, That Boston [a on fire, 1t turns the ruddy cheek to pale Xt makes the stoutest courage fs 1t makes the money powers qusi Disuster is rife, Hear, bear too wailt Another terrible surprige! Another city prostrate lies! Another chance to win the prize That's set on charity. Happy towns and cities blest, From North to Sonth, from East to West, From ocean-mair to mountaia-crest, ‘Shell out, nor let your eyelids rest” “Till you have entertained the guest 8ent out by Heaven’s high bebest "To all humanity, Eocd Srstox. Aumios, Nov. 12, 1872, Z —_—————— ‘Tough and Rough. A merchant who was noted for his_stuttering, a8 well as for his u.hrewdnsasdl_n mgl:;xg 5 bare in, stopped at & grocery and inquired : B ey botturkeys tate you BB L ai * Eight, sir,” replied the grocer. «.t-t-tough or t-t-tender?” “Isama are tender and some {ough,” was the reply. E. Tk hoop b-b-bonrders,” enid the new cus- tomer. *P-pick out the f-four t-t-tonghest tur- kegu, it ou plesse.” o “The delighted grocer very willingly com ;.n::he ‘unusual Fequest, aud said, in hisp: mes : “ These are the fough ones, sir.” Upon which the merchant coolly put his hand upon the remaining four, and exclaimed ; “T'1 t-t-take th-th-th-these.”" e