Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 21, 1874, Page 10

THE CHICAGO™DAILY TRIBUNE: SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1874--SUPPLEMENT. ) B e e O S METRGPOLITAN MODES. Tho Season Continued in Spite of Fashion’s Piat---Paris Furnishing 0ld Things under New Names, The Lafest Novelty in Flounces--- Threatened Invasion of Fem- inine Trousers. Hits and Bonnets to Be Reduced in Altitude-The Coat-Sleeve From Our Qun Correspondent. New Yonx, Feb. 18, 1874, As you know, of course, the eesson is over. To be sure, thero are nightly balls and parties, receptions and kettledrums; but, if you be so- cicty-wise, yon are aware that the season ends with the Charity Ball, which took place two weeks ogo. All sorts of entertainments have been given since then, and will be given, until people baople begin to think of going away for the summer. But towhat period they belong, I am unzble to say ; forIsm told that the season ended with the rolling away of the last carriago on the morning after tho * Charity.” Tho ball aetted forits eleemosynary object 3 fow thou- rands of dollars; the costumes exhibited in the name of benevolence cost hundredsof thousands. Dn the whole, you ses, there is nothing like do- ing good in your fine feathers; the effect is 0 much more imposing than when you only wear tipaca or calico at yeur alms-giving. LENT I8 BEGUX, 1nd now all fashionable attention is divided be- iween reficction on the vanity of all earthly things, and & conscientions consideration of fummer-wardrobes. If it were not for Lent, I m really unable to perceive how the fair Man- hattanesa could be gotten resdy for the fresh woods aud pastures new Which they havein prospect after Esster. As it is, they spring Torth from the forty daye of seclusion like so many modieh Minervas, full clad for vernal vie- ‘ories. PARISIAN CONTRADICTIONS. Parie is a little backward this year with her hints and her prophecies; 8o it is fair to sup- pose that no stariling changes are to be made. Having declared the polonaise ugequivocally dead, she proceeds to resuscitate it in all sorta of ehupes and stylea. Not that she calls it the polonaise; Pans never forgets her own edicts; but, were it not called a jacket, s long basque,. s paletot, » frock-coat, and sundry other names, I doubt not vou would be- licve it the esme old polonaise you have been 80 long intimate with. It is likely to be an. economical mode for us, since, in many cases, the polonaise of last year can be easily cat over into s jacket of this. - The chiof characteristic of THF. XEW DPPER DRESS is, that its lower odge is always wrregnlar, Some- ey, the back runs down in two lobg coat- tails, like a drees-coat; while, on the hips and sides, it is short. Again, the front is cut with long tab-ends, while the back is littlo more than jockey-basque lying lightly on the tournure, ‘whero it meets the flounces that cover the back of tho elirt. A third style shows long, square tabs on eithor hip, reaching, frequently, nearly ta the edge of thodress; while the front and back will be shorter, butnot the same length. Wit theso jeckets, the skirts are trimmed a good deal, generally in different wavs on the froot and back. Nothing can bs uglier than rome of these combinations, or more inartistic than the faskion itself. Imagine, for instance, the three front-breadths covered with perpen- dicular folds, and the back with horizontal flouaces, carr¥ing the conviction that parts of two gowns hud been accidentally put together, and that there bad been 1o time to remedy the mistake before the owner was obliged to wear it, The reverse of this trimming is fashionable, but it always looks as if the dress wero on wrong side before; and you cannot teil which of the two is the most inclegant, except that the last yon see always leaves the stronger and more un- Tavorable impression. If anything be & NOVELTY IN FLOUNCES, it is the very broad Spanish flonnce which dress- makers are using, and will usn very much, both on sireat and houso dresses. Sometimes, it is nearly throe-quarters of s sard deep, raroly less than sixtean inches. It differs from the old Spanish flounco in that it ia set on the skirts, in- stead of tho skirt being cut off st the kuee, and the flounce put upon the edge. The edge of the _Hounce ia genérally hemmed by Land,—the ‘the French finish of piping or_cording the hem being s trifle passe; and then decorations of va- tioua kinds, such as bands, narrow ruffles, puffs, leaves of silk jel, passcmenterie, etc., ke sowed on_ ‘above, till the flounce bocomes merely s backgronnd to display the in- genuity of the modfste npon. A model of this style is in this wise: Flounce three-quarters of » yard wide; the bottom facod with velyet three- sighths wide. Heading the velvet is o double paff of ailk, divided bi a velvet cord,—tho edge of the lower puff finished by an inch-wide silk +ufile, and the cdge of the upper pu by a vel- vet rufile. Abovo tho puff is a finger-wide apace, and .thon » wreath of silk leavea bonnd with velvet, = The top of the flounce is faced with velvet, and plaited on in shells, which turn back aud 'show the velvot lining. It is & work of supererogation to put. any more ormamentation on & skitt ac - nearly covered by so over-decked & flounce ;'but mantua- ‘makera aro accustomed to supererogatory labors e beLalf of {ici capricions mistics, Eashion. ‘Therefore, despite the fact that the jacket noar- Iy meets ihe flounce, a_sash of peculiarcon- struction is sdded.. A piece of crinoline is cut almost in half-moon shape (only the curve is shaliower and the points not. o sharp),-and on this is tacked, in side-plaits, tumning up, a Biraight breadth of silk. One end of this crescent is faatened on the second seam on the left side, sbout ten or twelve inches from the belt. As_the jacket covors this termination, nothing is reguired in the bow lino; bu when the sash boen carri BcTOEB the front breadth, and is Bsocured, just in the middle of the second gore, »t the top of the flounce, the looso end—fringed a finger deep—is drawn through an immense jot uekle. * Whether this skirt-design be admirable or nof it ie likely ‘o bo cne of the most fashionubla of 1ho spring modes, and namerous snits in this stylo are alrendy in preparation, to sppes aftar XEaster. 1t is plainly intended for tall or moder- ately tall women, for they alode can carmry it woll. The broken surfaco of the Jeep flounce ‘makes a short woman look like a pigmy. The sole variety of this which a woman of low staturo can afford to wear i8 an uptrimmed flonnce, and even this is of questionable wisdom. CONVENTIONALITY INVADED. ‘We bavebeen accustomed to regard the Bloom- er dress s the type of tho most sdvanced idess “in relation to feminine attire. Scoffers have ridiculed it; fashionsble people have eyed it ackance; wiseacres have shaken their heads over the innovation, and declared it- wouldn't do for modest women to wear any such semi-maa- culine garb. And soeven the few devoted be- lieverain iis hygienic desirability have sadly, but finally, abandoned it. A rnmor nay, moro than a rumor,—comes from that chronicler of small beer, the reporter of toilettes, which as- scrts that ladies in Europe not only ought to, but do, wear trousers! Not the unprincipled Bloomer trouscrs, that were straight, and stiff, and unbecoming,—and therefore improper,—but nll Turkish trousers, of muslin and very sheer cambric, trimmed with lace, ruffics, and em- Droidery. They are made to reach the ankle; falls of fine lace dropping over the boot—just magine it in our streets—and as, of conrso, their alegant effect must not be lost wpon the observer. Lbe skirts are cut short enongh to dis- play the frills to advantsge. The **gushing ™ _mdvocate of these dispancous garments clare that nothing i so becoming to a handsome foot as this etyle that is to be; but the advocate pruses ot to reflect upon the hardship of the Teet that have suffered in the csuse of pointed toes and French heels, and are avythiug but pretty in their * jointincss.” It is posaible that this novelty is intended for suburban use’ ouly, since 1t i8 mentioned sa baving been seon in countrs-places alone; and the thongat immedistely suggests itself that the fancy originated in the brain of ,some unhappy Parisienne, who, unable to spend the winter in the Capita, is davising and trying some ariginal ‘habiliments which shall aid her to create in_ the warm season the sensation she failed to creats i the cald. B SIGNIFICANT EIGN. 3 From the way the merchants are hurrying out the remnants of their last year's goods, and the violent effort they are muling to get them off their hands, one i3 led to infor thal the new { forohanded, and e, .| of Winchester, and the third on gondxmll b really new in fabric and_design. hop-windows are filled with cambrics and musling - that make ono shiver, de- spito the almost _ unsemsonably-warm weather. If you arc not imperative about hav- ing your now gowne of the latest stufls, you can it yourself out for summer ats very modest and some thrifty souls are already laying in their eummer-supplies. It certainly does seem & trifle odd to go about asking for calicoes and grenadines when you're wrapped up to your nose in furs, and shake every timo a door is opened. . But_some people sre, s the old folks say, 8o | o _consequence, alfays Teady when the season arrives, ODDS AXD ENDS. Report eays the bonnets and hats will come 1 down several degreesin April; that the isother. ‘mo-millinery lino ,will not permit parterres ot flowers to blossom ou tho apex of nothing; and that tho general tendency will be toward the “acoop.” ¥ So deep is the sympathy for the owner of Booth's Theatre in his present difficulties that collars, cuffs, neckties, ete., are put forth chris- tened with- Lis name, 28 abait to the popular purse. s The well-beloved coat-sleevo, proper, is quiet- 1y slipping into’ retirement ; to be followed by eleeves puffed perpendicularly from wrist to shoulder; puffed in graduated puffs round the a1m ; with one Medici poff standing up grimly round the armhole ; with'the back edges of the sleeve ‘pointed and caught together at the tips, over an inside puff; and numberless other va~ Ticties. _ Lacois being much moge widely uscd for dress-garpiture than 1t has been for sevoral months. As Iace comes in, beads go out; which is n blessing. Deads are very expensive trim- ming, both in firet cost and goneral wear; con- requently they are never long in fashion; for, 88 3 people, we do very littlo thst doesn't pay. The so-called India-silk handkerchiefs with bright borders,—i, e., linen lsvn_with bands of China-silk stitched on per sewing-machino—are not, and_never have been, popular. They aro dear to begin with, and as thoy will not wash nicely, they are very deac to end with. become almost universal for ladies to wear & larzs silk kerchief round their necks, under their cloaks, after the manner of their legal protectors. Those who can endure_ the trying white ones uso thom exclusively, and the rest, in the main, chooss blue. FuRpeLOW. THE FLOWER OF LOVE LIES BLEEDING. T met a little maid one day, Allin the bright 3ay weither; She danced, and brushed the dew away As lightly s 3 feather, Bhe had & hallad in hor hand That ehe had just becn readfag, ‘But was 100 young to understand: That ditty of a distant land, “The fiower of love lics Lleeding.” ha tripped across tho mesdew-grass, To where a brook was flowing, Across tho brook like wind did pass, Wherever flowers were growing. Like soms bowildered ehild she fow, Whom fairies were mislesding: “ Y¥hoso butterfly,” I said, *aro you? And what sweet thing do you puraus 27— *The flower of love lies bleeding " “T've found the wild-roso1n the hedge, I've found the tiger-] The blue-flag Ly the water's edge,— The dancing daffodilly,— P King-cups snd pansies,—every flower Except the one I'm needing ; Perhaps it grown in some dark bower, ‘And opens at s later hour,— “This fower of Jove lies bleeding.” “1 pouldn'tJook for it L s, * For you can do without it i ‘There’s Do such flower.” Sbe shook her head: #But T have read about it 17 1 taiked to her of bee and bird, But she was all nnheeding ; Her tender heart was strangely Bhe harped on thiat unhappy word,— 4 Tho fower of love les bleeding 17 # Xy child,” X sighed, snd dropped tear, “ T would 1o Jonger mind it ; You'll find it some day, never fear, For all of us must find it 1 1 found it many'a year ago, With on of gentlo breeding. ¥ou and the littie Isd you know,~ 1 sce why you are ‘weaping 50,— Your flower of love lies bleeding I” —Richard Henry Stoddard in Seribner's for March, —_— LITERARY ITEMS. Sheldon & Co. will publish during the spring a woman's rights novel by Lillie Devereux Blake. —No less than threo rival publishers anaounce that thoy wilt reprint Lord Macaulay's forthcom- ing “ Jourpels end Lettors.” —The English revigers of the Old_Testament have - completed their first rovision of the Pealms. The fortheoming “ Memoirs of John_Quincy Adams,” by Charles Francis Adsms, will make a1 least four volumes, -and will be published at’ the aristocratic price of $5 a volpma. —Tho now story by Mrs. Lynn Linton, author f * Joshus Davidson, Communist,” is called 4 cia, Kemball;” and Farjeon's, * Jeugio —The number of books published in Boston in the conrse of & year, taking it on an average, can probably be estimated at between 300 and 400, reaching s eircalation of 2,000,000 copies, at & rough estimato. —John G. Whittier, in & lotter dated Jan. 80, saya: * My head and eyes will not allow me to think of literary work, * An_unfulfilled engage- mcz‘: with the Atlantic Monthly troubles me much.” —Authoresses sometimes drive s good bargain when thoy exchange sentiment for sauces and chivalry for chicken broth. Marion Harland is an instance. Her recont cook-book has netted ber more money than ‘* Alone” or * Tho Hid- den Path.” —~Campbell declined to have his lines, ** The Dirge of Wallace,” published in his volumes of collected works, because he had been sccused of borrowing the poem from Wolfe’s * Burial of Bir John Aoora.” —~Edmond About writes to the Athencum from Paris, that Taine's chances for an election to tha Academy were good until tho Republican Libe erals learncd - that he is engaged on a book, in which be shows little sympathy with the Froach Bevolution.” —MMr. Furnivall writes to the Academy that Shakspere did know how to spell bis own name, and spelt it thus. Of the existing five anto- f‘npha, which only are unquestionably genuine, four are in this farm without question, and tha other Mr. Furnivall contends is really the same, —‘“The Mysterious Island.” & new story by Jules Yerne, the author of “From the Earth to the Moon,” ** A Journey to tha Centro of the Earth,” &2, &c., will, by special arrangement, b published Scribner's Afonthly.- It is to be profusely illustrated. —MIr. " Eugene ' 8chuyler, Becrefary of the American Legation at St, Petersburg, has nearly completed his book on * Turkistan; Notes of a Journey in 1878 in tho Russiau Province of Turkistan, the Khanates of Kokan and Bokh: and the Province of Kuldjs.” Scribner wil bring out the American edition of the work. —** Gunnar,” the Norse romanco contributed by the young Norwegian writer, Boylsen, to last ear’s Atlantic, will be published in- book form ¥ Osgood, The author has taken the chair of the languages of Northern Europe in Coraell University. —~The Fobrusry Conlemporary Review has thre important papers,—ono on * The Shield of Achilles,” by Mr. Gladstone ; another on © How Bhail We Deal with the Rubrics?” by the Dean C ¥ Contemporary Evn{:mnni;’ by 5. George Mivart. —A work of great importancein the history of English literature has been undertaken byrglr. Faber, under & commigsion from the trustees of the British Museum. The work-ia a reproduc- tion of tha title-page of every book entered at Stationers’ Hall, London, since the beginning in the reign of Henry VIIIL B —The first volume of s completo corpus ot Irish ingcribed monuments of a Christian® char- scter, extending in date from the carliest known to tho end of the twalfth century, has been is- sued to members of the Royal Historical and Archmological Association of Ireland. It is illustrated by the plates, comprising 175 ex- amples in fac-simile. 4to., on toned paper, and is edited for .the Association by Miss Stokes, chiefly from the collections of the late Dr. Petrie. The inscriptions here given afford the most snoient Irish texts extant. —_— ... . The Apple Question. T the Editors of The Boston Journal : _ If Eve 8-1-1st and Adam 8-1-2 would not the Wholo ba 16237 - AuBURKDALE. T the Editors of Thé Loston Jeurnal : Being a very attentive reader of your paper, I bave been entertained with the answers to the conundrum of * How many apples Adam and Eveate?” Your latest number was 893.. I be- lieve,the following to be the frue solution: Eve 814 | Adam, Adam 8124 Eve. 8938........Total, VERITAS. T the Editors of The Boston Journal : R In the Journal of last evening, I moticeds number of znswers to the Apple Conundrum, the Lawrence American giving as an answer 893, Nowl think the editor of that paper must bave Ieft before our first parents got through eatmng, for Imake 1t 893. There were two persons in the Garden of Eden, and 1-8-1 apple snd the other 8-1-2, malang in all 993, F.B.W. MODERN EXTRAVAGANCE. : _fi!oraes and Carriages in Chi- 4 cago. - . . 5 Buggies, Phaetons, Rockaways, Vietorias, .. Cabriolets, Coupes, Glarences, Landanlets, and’ Oth- " or Vehicles, Cost of -Various Styles of Equi- - page. o - Inreviewing the various articles of comfort or luxury with which a- Chicagoan surrounds him- gelf, wo find ono specisl sppanage of which, like most other. of his fellow-mortals equally favored by fortune, he is very proud. This is ' THE EQUINE DEPRESENTATIVE, that individually makes of life either & comfort or acaro. When all goes smoothly in the framo, brick, or stone cdifice that occupies that portion of one's special house-lot fronting of the alley, then life i8 very sweet indeed. Lot & suspicion of anything wrong, however, but a glanco athwart the consciouspess of the ownor, who resides in the largest edifice, which is approached from the street, and all tho joya of life seem gorrows, its hopes disappointments, its roses poisonous weeds ; or, to speak moro practically, he is indifferent upon the subject of dinner. His soup may. grow cold, his fish be- ~ome gocden, his rosst overdome; but, .-with sublime recklessness, ho: answers all summons to leave the domicile of his four-footed favorite with an impatient “ Don't bother me'!™ - Could iman’s interest further go? Were his ‘wife very ill, his faith in physician and nurse would eppear sublime, so readily would he ne- cedo to their dicta regarding the matter. ‘His' dinner would still hold & principal place in his thoughts, and, if not ready on time, or mot cooked to & tune, he would be quite able to exprosg his opinion to the cook in emphatic " terms. Ho could seck hig -ofice, or go on 'Change, quite satisfied that everything was be- ing done that coald, and leaving the result in the handa' of a beneficent and overruling Providence. Quits logically, too, for, if" he i8 neither Indian nor Spiritnalist, he belioves | in no happy hunting-grounds for his fuvorito i) steed, and thereforo has no gustaining vison of 7' beatific apolhoosis connocted with it, as he .has with the human sharer of his joys and sor- rows. If ‘his horse dies, then, he haa'literally ceased to be, except as certain practical results may be arrived at in the wayof ‘glue, buttons, phosphate, ete,—mere physical Teminders. Then he feels that no other equine individual can ever suit him 8o well. He has grown accus- tomed to his gait, knows just tho fasl of his mouth, . can guide .him by & word, and " his high spirit never degenerates into temper. He had learnod' to love the beast 60, he feels' no inclination to try & new experiment. Is it strange, then, that, when the stables bocomo o hospital, ho should constitute himsel? head-nurse, forget that thero is such a region a8 down-town, and ang upon the words of bope or despondency that fall from the lips of the attending “Vet” with breathlesa inter- esv? Surely mot. Whet isa woman compared with'a horso? No man pretends to comprehend 2 woman, Every man thinks ho knows all about 2 hiorsa. : ° Turning, however, for the present, from this all-absorbing theme, let us Beo what the local .demand is in the way of Juxurious or comfort- able equipage, and about what it costs to keep 1p & proper establishment, consistent with one’s ‘social position, whether do facto or only aspired 1 , 0. First. then, there is 4 THE ORDINARY BUGGY with which Paterfamilias drives down to busi- ness, and cither puts up atter he gets there, or leaves standing near the curb,—the horse in full harness, traces unhitched, and the animal either fastened to s convenicnt ring in the side- walk, or anchored by a still moro con- ‘venient weight, which is 8 part of tho equipment like a ship's best bower,—makinj the business-streets of ' Chicago, however, look very much like an overgrown village on s mar- Xet-day, and conveying & vivid recollection of the stone which amateur fishermen on inland ponds are given to sttach to-the Tops that an- swers for a hawser, and which they also carry with them for convenient anchorage. However, ‘setting aside the provincialism of the procced- ing, wo find that these vebicles, whether thehigh Top-Buggy for the activo drspeptic, or the lower Phaeton for the elder individual who has added supplementary gout to his carlier ails, costs from §200to 9325, when of thoroughly good make. Harness costs from £50 to $195; lap- robe from 810 to £50; blanket “from 24.50 to €505 ora special article at $150. Thus, the mers original cost of this_simplo outft may range from $264 to 8650. In this ‘meaudering city, that sprawls about, North, South, and. ‘West, like the arms of a Sepia, attaching itself with anyielding grip to acre aftor acre of prairie, somo individual conveyance seems rather a ne- cessity than a luxary, even to the poor man ; but from the above figures, which are quite inde- pendent of the locomotive power, it wonld seem 2 necessity beyond his reach. Next in order comes - MADAME'S PAETOYN, ‘withsingle harness. The original cost of this is from $325 to £500. The other adjuncts require -about the samo outlay as the husband's or father’s; while the whip—an item not considered in tho preceding estimato—may cost cither 75 cents or any sum between that and 875, From £3 to 25, however, would gwbably be about the lowest amount which would be expended in this direction: A double team. would, of .course, neariy double the cost:of the trappings. We find then, that s Isdy's Phacton, einglo Lamess, COsi eense $419 L0 $900 If my Iady drives o pair of ponies, then her establishment would represent $498 to S1,450. Does sho_indulge in oquestrisnism, then her £addlo, bridle, etc., may be inventoriod at from $35 to 8200. As reg: tho carrisges and har- ness, we ara predicating the cost upon the prices of the best carrisgo-makers. In regard to the saccessorics, we are j‘wu"" regu- lar local prices,andnot exceptional fancies,hich may increaso the cost materially. The lap-robe, for instance, may be an elaborats picce of work- menship, and cost from €250 to £500; while specialties in the way of whips, coral-handled, gold-mounted, Iace-parasoled, and otherwise gotten up without regard to expense, have been furnished at a cost of §500, and so on to 81,000. These, however, aro the refinements of luxury, the quintessence of “extravagance. Thohighest robe that we have quoted was sn article of In- dian manufacturo, sold under price, and like the Docea shawl., For Mrs. Shoddy's benefit wo might suggest that, if she ia weary of trailing bor $3,000 To- disn cashmere through a railwey-car, it will be quite in keeping to use it for a lap-robe. As nn original suggestion, she might also impress tho less fortunate canaillo with & sense of ber afflu- ence if ehe attached some cf her superfluous dia- monds to her horses’ ears,’ ; DASKET-PHAETONS cost from 9200 to §350. As an sdvertisement by certain dealers they Lave oceasionally been sold 28 lowas $150; but this left no margin for sny profit. It was merely to call attention ta the more expensive work of the firm. As the family increases and the intome grows ‘more ample, = e A PAMILY-CARRIAGE becomes & necessity ; not baving et reached ibst round in the social ladder which demands & coachman, to eay nothiug of a footman and livery, with monograms on tlie barness and psendo costs-of-arms on the pancls,—wondrous Combinations -of heraldic emblems, not often rivaling tite quaint conceit of the fortunate manufactorer of snuff, whose emblem was an open snufl-box, couchant, with a thumb and finger rampant, and the appropriate motto : Who'd bave thought {t, . Noses would have bought it ? By no means. “Sink the shop” fs-the order of the day, and we obey the martinet command with the alacrity of the best-disciplined troogs : i Qurs not to make reply, Ours not to reason why, 8 Ours from the vhop ehy, Faahion's fair hundreds. The intermediate stage, however, only de- mands the family Rockaway for four or six -people, the Victoria, or the Cabriolet. These 2il admit . of.. being managed by some of = the family or & hired. attendant- mot of the grandiose order. The vehiclo itself will cost from £700 to £1,500; the harness from $200 to £450. dependent upon the material and work. If elaborately stitched, ornsmented, and mounted withs gold or silver, it will resch the laitor fig- -ure; 80 we find that the vehicle in which as a family we take our copstitutionals requires a ‘disbursement varying from $920 to €2,360, in- cluding the necessary Punph&n}lhn. These figures givo some ides of the ordinary expendi- ture which meets our eye continually a5 we walk abroad. D At last, however, :it is found that the old- fashioned Rockaway i8 not quite in keeping with ite mansard roof. Madame thinks A coUPR would be moro in consonance with her social surroundiogs, and the old carriag is_dovoted to the use of the nurso and children. This costw, for tho -vehiclo alope, from 81,000 to $1,25 New oquipments’ will add from €200 to #600'; and thus we find the Internal rovenna catechiser may add another itemn of from $1,200 to $1,650 . to his achedule of values. Still evolving from what may have been origin- ally o Liand-cart or & carrosse 2u poussiere, we find tho next most desirable vehicls to be A CLARENCE. These are worth about $1,500, but have been made with extra finish at an ontlay of $2,500. The necessary harness, etc.. to accompany this, will cost from $250 to $900,—thus fixiug tho ‘| price of the new exponent of social and financial success, visiblo to the admiring or envious crowd who trudge through dust and mud, at Sgures ranging from 1,750 to $3,400. The favorite carriage with Chicagoans, how- ever, is i THE LANDAULET, costing from 81,550 to $1,750 ; adding to which our estimates, we find tha azgregate will reach from 81,800 to $2,650. This seems to take in about the entire variety of vebicles usually fur- ?riflhcd by Chicago manufacturers to the ~local o ; OTHER VENICLES. The Central-Park Driving-Phaston, hung high, and fitted up for four-in-hand, costs' from $906 to £1,200." Of eouree tho exira expenses for suc outfit will in cortain items be doubled. .The harnoss will cost from 8400 to $1,500; Iap- robes, blankets, etc., are also necessary in oxtra quantities; and tho entire outfit may b esti: mated a8 couti:{ from $1,365 to §3,575. The .English Drag Mail-Coach, and Irish Jounting- [Car, though not unfroquontly scen East, have ot yet adiod thielr extra. itema of extravagance to the Western world. TIE CHILDREN also have their specialties. on " the Avenue attracted some atten- tion ono day last week. It consisted of a emall box on wheels, with a seat containing a 50-pound boy ; whifo in tho shafts, or rathor by traces, was larnessed the motor ‘power in the shape of & 30-vound dog. What we should thunk of saeing a 1,200-pound horse draw 8 2,000-pound men, wero such s thing_possible, w0 leave to tho imagination of our readers. As, Liowver, ho is considered capable of dragging thnfi‘. amount of dead weight, wo supposo it 18 all right. i A fancy four-goat-team for the children is another favorite extravagance which has not roached this city in its full moasure of com- pleteness. It may be cstimated as costing from 300 to $500. NEXT COMES THE LIGHT TROTTING WAGON, singlo or double, and the_sulky, valued at prices ranging between $150 and 8500. About theso tho gonus homo has as many froaks ss he has abon his yacht, Ho fancigs there never was a wagon whoso running gear was quite as perfect as that particular lucky purchase of his, and ho places a fancy value on it, and thinks heisa specially fortunate dog iu being ite possessor. You cannot buy it of bim, because it has been one of those happy inspirations or isolated acci- dents of mechanical combinotion which will never occur sgain. Ask him to lend you's thousand dollars, but do not try to borrow that unique wagon. pendont of the expensive horseficsh that must accompany this miracle of mechaniem,” we find it must have cost our friond, when fully cquipped, from §$300 to §1,200,~tho lowar estimato applying only.to the Sulky, and therofore not approach- ing'the general estimate,—from 2700 to $1.200 being nearer the approximate value of tho best stylo of light Trotting-Wagon. The Dog-Cart which many affect costs from $800 to &1,000 ; the English Dog-Cart, on _two wheels, from 3650 to £1,000, with tho preceding estimates of sc- contrements added theroto. For tho benefit of Mra. Grandy, that sho may plage s proper valastion upon hot fcionds, and bo haughty or humblo according to the dictates of hier conscience, o8 it has been parfectod in moneyolatry, we subjoin a SCIEDULE OF TUE FOREGOING ESTTMATES : Top-Buggy, with equipments. ... Mzdame’s Phaeton, single harness, Four or eix-seat Rockaway, Victoria, or Cabriolet, A Dog-Cart 900 498 to 1,450 .90 to 2,30 T 12000 1,850 1750 to 3400 1,600 to 2650 Dog-Cazt.. Engiish Dog-Cart, two-wheeled - The motor-power of these vehicles, and the cost of kecping it up, with expense of attend- ance, repairs, and the other various items, must be left for apother time; and whether your {riend's horses are *‘screws” ar thoroughbreds, and what they have probably cost hor, caunof now be considered. The above items are local {facts, as furnished by local manufacturers, The trade is intreasing, and demands from the Pacific Shore are made upon this city for vehioular sup- plies. Brewster wagons are no longer consider- ed a zecessity smong those who like to svin along the Boulevard or the Lake Shore Dnve; and in this branch of trade, Chicago is fairly competing with New York. The only other item to be considered in this category is THE SLEIGH, which the Clerk of the Weather has so far kindly allowed to rest most of the time in its special place under cover. For-this we sre all duly thankful. These arc usually of Portland manu- facture. - Thoy vary in orice from 276 to $500, according to size and make. The Larness costs the same, with the addition of bells, which are of all prices; while the great expense is in the fur lap-robes and coverings. A tiger-skin, with the head stuffed snd perfect as life, is pur- chasable at 8176, The effect is pleasing; but ‘we aro most of us quite willing to let them lie idlo, or uso them for hearth-rugs, % g CSl SEVENTEEN. Behold he stands whera golden sands And shells begirt Lifo's silser sea : His full-orbed eye reads in the sky Mo sign of storm that ls to bo. ‘Parental halls and garden-walls THis reatless feet cannot restrain: Ho tip-too stands, beholding lands That rise upon the distant main. ‘Hixardent breast foels that unrost, And longing for the brigat unknown,— That vaguo untold that muat enfold Tho unpossessed as all his o, The inward firo of grand desire Feeds all the puises of his soul ; He aspires to riso abovo the skies, And viow the lands from pale {o pole. He looks, and longs, and hears the sngs That Ocean syllables all day, Of isiands green that lis unsecn Beyond the outer gates of Day. On, wanton boy I with shadows toy, ‘Whila hope is strong and fancy Go gather shells where Ocean awalls, ‘And watch thy ships go ont o rex., . GRANVILLE M. BALLARD, INDUNAPOLIS, February, 1614, e A Smalil Indian War. v There has been s late tragedy at Aldrich, on the lino of tho Northern Pacific Railroad, which may bring on & serious battle botween the citi- zens of the section and & large band of Pillager Indiang who are hunting in tho district. A trader lost & sack of.flour, and, believing that o neighboring Indian family had atolen it, searched their wigwam and found tho flour. He seized and took it to the section-house, and was fal- lowed by two Indian boys, who said that the section-louse-keeper's son 'had sold tuem the flour. Tho boy denied it, nad then fell upon the Indisn boys snd bear them soverely.. They went home to their wigwam sud told their big brother, who came ot with his gun and went to the section-honse to get reparation for tho abuse tho litte fellows hed sustained. He could got no satisfaction from the kecper, who closed his door in the Indian's face and held it {=8t. The Indian l'nangnp the mauzzle of his un close to the door and firad through into the ouse. The ball cut off a fingar of tho section- house secper aud passed into the head of hia daughter, a girl of 13, causing her death. The retrozting Indisn was fired at from the house and wounded, but managed to_drag himself to his wigwam, and then the band moved off. The Sheriff got sfter them, and thoy refused to giva up the wounded Indian, asserting that in a day or £wo he would die, and thus settle the difficulty. The white settlers were not gure that such » set- tlement was £o near at band, and they marshal- ed thirty well-armed and provisioned men to pursue tho Indians and give them battle. There are about 200 of the Indians, and the flaummb may be & very livoly one when it comes off, e . . CHARLES. KINGSLEY., An Interview with the Distingnished English Author, His Persanal Appearance—L-OBjects of His Visit to America. Synopsis of His Lecture on “ Westminster Abbey.” Special Correapondence of The Chicaco Tribune, Boszox, Mass,, Feb. 16, 1874, Of all the distinguished foreignera we have had with us doring the last few years, perbaps none of them—after Dickens—iwas received with tho interest of SUCH WIDELY-DIFFERENT CLASSES 28 i3 Charles Kingsley. For s man whom no one would ever dream of being double-faced, he Lias moro sides to bis character than any other person I know of; and each is so strongly marked and well developed that he will interest just as many different classes as ho has phases tohis charscter. A very striking evidence of this came under my notice this morming. I chanced to ovarhear two gentlemen talking sbont him, when ono said, * I suppose tho Unitarians will mako a great deal of him while boisin tho country.” “DBut heis not a Unitarian,” replied the other; * he is Canon of Westminster Abbey,” “Well, I didu't know that; I knew him by his books only, and somehow set him doyn &3 Unitarian.” i Iwas not greatly surprised at his blunder, for ono is likely to got absorbingly interested in Mr. Kingsloyss an onthor that it matters little to that one what ho is besides, This morning, Alr. Kingsley and his dsughter, Miss Kingsley, ANRIVED I¥ DOSTON from New York, and, as I had the pleasure of meeting them, I am going to tell you something abont them, before speaking of the lecturo which he delivered to-night in Salem, and which he repeats to-morrow night in Boston,on “West- minster Abbey."” I must confess to some feelings of trepidation after sending up my name, and while waiting for Mr. Kingsloy and his daughbter to receive me, for “a guilty conscience,” you know, and I know I had a note-book and well-sharpened_pencil in my pocket, even if they did not ; and I was not sure how these distingaished peoplo would view a young Iady of newspaper-tendencies. But all my apprebensions were dispellod, when Mr, Kingsley entered tho parlor, E; his kind and ge- nial greeting. I believe the acceptable thing to say in Bos- ton of #(B. KINGSLEY'S APPEARANCE is, ‘“How much he looks like Emerson!” Bat, as you forlorn Chiclio poople are not posted perhaps a8 to how Mr. Emerson looks, I will de- seribe Mr. Kingeley : . Ho is tall, rather slender, and looks about hia age,~which 18 b5i—though reserving the Epglishman's right to = scem a fow yours -younger. His bhair and' beard are well frosted, which makes his kind face all the rosier by contrast. He drosses plainly, yet without impressing you with the priestliness of bis_attire. His manners are courtoous and~nced I add >—verv agreeabls, Ar. Kingsley did not come to America for the sole puspose of locturing, but to try what effect theclimate might beve upon M8 HEALTH, which has not been very good for some time. He goes West—lecturiog on his way—whero he has & son liviog, in Colorado, I believe. Boston_is ready to lavieh honors, both social and blic, upon him ; but, while he seems rratified and flsttered by this expression of friendliness, it is beyond 'his power to accept most of the hospitalities offered him. Then, 00, the death of his wife’s_sistor, Mra. Froude, will, of cousse, provent* himself and dsughter attending many entertainments. To-morrow, the Press give kim a dinner in Boston. After a faw minates with Mr. Kingsloy, ho was called away, and the remainder of my call was spont with Z IS RINGELEY, one of the most thoroughly sensibte and charm- ng women I ever mot. She kindly offered to answer any questions I cared to ask about her 1ather. So I taok out my note-book aad pat on a business-liko manner; but (I suppose I onght to confess it with shamo), at sight of the formid- abio yollow paper, we looked at each other and Iaughed, and I burried it back into my pocket, saying, ““Well, I'll not ask you any questions. | Please just tell me something interosting sbout your father, that none of the newspapers know yet ;" and we scttled ourselves for a chat. T am not an Esstern gir1,” I replied to a re- mark of hera; *Iam from the West.” “Oh! aro you? Then we can sympathize with each other, for I am & Western girl, too. I spent a year with my brother, who is railroading in Colorado, and I do love the Weat.” *“Whon did you laud 2" I ssked. “Op Wednesday.” Thon I made tho conventional remark, that her father had had time to rest from his voyags be- fore beginning his lectures, and she said : “Yes, but father never needs to rest after coming off the wator. Ho has been s good sailor all his lifo. When hewas a little boy, and lived in Dovonshire, he and his brother used to spend whole nights'in fishing-smacks with the fishermen.” Then, after t2lking of her fathor's books, she said: I wish you could see our country home, *EBVERSLEY ;' ¥ and she fotched mo gome photographs of it. “Theso are the windows of father's library,” Eninting to windows which showed like loop- olos through masses of ivy. ‘I think all his books were written in there. Eversley is & charming old place. It was at one time only a cell of St. Peter’s, Weatminster ; so, of course, that part is very old,—between 300 ‘and 400 years : and, whero the Iawn now is, there used to be & fish-pond, from which the monks drew their Lenten supply of fish. e are just on the edge of wide moor-lands, snd we can ride somo 15 miles across the moor, through the heather and self-gowed Scotch firs. And, in the fall, when the heath ia & mass of purplo blossoms, you can imagine how beautiful it is.” 1 think a man’s home ought to reflect him, and ho it ; and somebow this description of Eversloy acconuted to me for much that we find in Charles Kingeley's books. - I found that my ‘‘interviow " had turned into a pleasant social call, and I was sorry enough when other visitors were announced and I was forced to say good-bye. To-night, in Salem, MB, KINGALEY'S LECTURE was, a8 I knew it would he, a success. He began by paying to Americans a very grace- ful compliment for their reverence for antiquity. { ““Therich and strong young natures, which feel themselves capsble of original thought and ‘work, have a corresponding respect for those who, in generations gone by, have thought and ‘worked &8 I.heg hope to to-morrow. . . . I bave seen—and seen with joy—o like spirit in thoge Amoricans whom it has been my good for tune to meet in my own country ; I mean, how- ever gelf-teaching and 'self-determining the- might_be, that genial roverence- for antiquity which I hold to be the sign of a truly generousy that is high-bred, nature. I have been touched,, and decply touched, at finding so many of them, when landing for tho first time at Liverpool, hurry off to seo our quaint old City of Chester, to gaze on its old enceinte of walis and towers, Roman, Medioval, Caro~ line, its curious * Rowa ' of overhanging honses, its fragmenta of Roman baths and inscriptions, its modest little cathedral, and the, really ve {few, relics of Engliah history which it contains.” It is becanso of this senfiment of reverence that he chose his subject, ¢ WESTAINSTER ARBEY." “There is an American author who was the delight of my own youth, snd who should have beon my teacher also, for he was & master of our common tongue, 2ud bis prose is a3 graceful and felicitous as, whilo it-is manlior than, even poor Elis's own,—an suthor, Isay, who, with that high-bred raverence for what is old, has told you already more about Westminster Abbey, and told it better, than I sm likely to. Need I gay that I mean the lamented Washington Irving? Ah that our authors bad always been as just to yon 28 he was just to us,—indeed, more than just, for in his conrtesy he saw us somewhat en beau, and treated old John Bull too much as Pope ad- vised us to treat fair Iadies : 4 Be to their fanlta a little blins Be to their virtaes very kind."” The “airy security of cobweb” and *dusty splendor” which Irving saw foriy yeara ago, he tells us is not to be found there now. “A stranger will not often enter our Abbey without finding somewhere orather, among its vast arcades, .skilled wark- Of that men busy on mosaic, marble, bronzs, or- *ivied windows richly dight.” . . . Ofall the char- acteristics of Westminster Abbey, that which most cndears it to the nation, and gives more forco fo its name, is not that Kings are crowned tuere, or buried there; mot ita school; not its monaatery, its chapter, or its sanctuary, or the fact thaf it is the resting-place of famous En- glishmen ; it is not only Rheims Catbedral and St. Deny’s both in- one, but it is what the Pantheon was intended to be in France, what the Valballs is in Gormany, what Sants Croceis ‘to Italy. -Itis this which inspired the saying of ' Netson, ¢ VICTORY OR WESTMINSTER ABDEY, 2nd whick Las intertwined: it with go many oloquent padsages of Macaulay. Ié is_this which gives poiot to the allugion of recent Non- conformist statesmen, least inclined to draw il- lustrations from ecclesiastical ‘buildings. Itis this which gives most profise of vitality to the whole institution. Kings are no longer buried within its walls; oven the splendor of pageants bave ceaged to attract. But the desire Lo%e buried thero i8 as strong as ever, . . . As the Council of the Nation dud the Courts of tho Law have prossed into the Palace of Westminater, and engirdled the very Throno itsclf, o the ashes of tho great citizens of England have pressed into the sepul- chre, and surrounded them s with @ guard of honor after their death.” = Of tho dead Queens who sleep within tho | “ mournful magniticence” of tho old place, Mr. Kingsley spcke thus besutifally : *In the south aisle of Honry the VIIL's Chapel lies in royal pomp ehe who was so long England’s bane,—tho daughter of debate,—poor MARY QUEEN OF BCOTS. ZLnglish and Scot alike bave forgotten the stream of noble blood she cost their nations, and lock #adly and pityingly upon ber efligy. Wby not? 44 Nothing {s left of her Now, but pure, womsnly.! i s And in the corresponding aiglo upon the nort] in alike tomb, which the voice of the English Jeoplo demandad from the son of ary Stuart, ies even & sadder figure still,—the poor QUEEN PLIZABETN. |, To her indecd, in_her last days, vanity of vani- ties, all was vanity. Tyrone's rebellion killed Der. ‘This fruit have I of all my Iabors under the sun;’ and, with & whole book of Ecclesias- tes written on her mighty heart, the old crowned lioness coiled horself up in her lair, refused food, and died; and has her place hencaforth opposite to her dear sister whom she tried to_&ave, and who would havo slain her if she could, and whom she had at last to slay. They have made up their quarrel now.” He thus closed his lecture, after describing THE GRAND OLD ADBEY, with ita forests of column, its “grand hoights and severe proportions,” the beauty of its lnnr, many-colored roof, 28 'only a poet and one daily familiar with it, could "deseribe it: *‘ One word more: ‘It may bo not merely sentimental, but foolish and dangerous, to-wish for too much ; as with the Princess, in the Arabiag Nights, who fancied her fairy palaco was incomplete until she hiad a Roc's egg to suspend from ‘the doma, and, trying to get that one forbidden thing, Tost her fairy paluce and all its trensures. And yet 1, Canon of Westminster, long for a Roc'a egg Tor our old Abbey,—fancying that, so far from helping to'destroy, it may Lelp to preserve those sacred walls,—even for the dust of somo great American. The daymay come—T trust it will come before I die—when, in that great new cloister which it is proposed to build outmde and £ill with the heroes of—Heaven grant—the nest thonsand years, we moy have charge of moro than one great Colonial. But just because you are mnot Colonials,— atill, however worthy and abla, in ' stalu pupillari,—but because you are 2 full-gfosn and | independent nation,—s man whom England, through many paugs end many sins, has borns into thie world,—tharofore, I long for' the tomb of at least ONE OREAT AMERICAN.” American who glept for such a brief seadon thero, ho touchingly said: “* Ab, that we cauld hove kept him as & token that the greas Abbey and all its memories of 800 years do not belong to us slone, nor to the British Empire alone and all ita Colonies, but to America like- wise! That, when an American ectors beneath that mighty shade, he treads on common ap- cestral ground, as sacred to him as to ns.” Alr. Kingsley’s lecture, besides being finished and scholarly,—more like & beautiful essay than anything olse,—was one continued expression of tho friendship ho feels for us,—a friendship which we fool is singere, especially since "ho de- nies ever having entertained towards us—of tho I‘{ortb—the bitter feelings which havo been at- buted to him. A THE RUINED HOME. When this flesh ehall fall, And this soul shall risc, Over the storm. And the cload, to tho skies; When the noises grow dim % From tho world below,— The song, and the laugh, And the note of wos; When this form, 80 worn, So stiffened and cold, Lifts not a thread 1In ita vesturq's fold ; ‘When a stranger’s hand Shall have foldod away = * - 1ts raiments soft - In with Iavender-spray; % ‘When, one over one, 1Its dumb, idle bands Arc moored on its breast By the silken bands ; ‘When * forget-me-nota ® - Theso hands have trimmed Lie in the hair * That Death hath"dimmed,— My spirit shall turn, And come «(if it may) Down the sisles of the stars, From God's city awa; From its pearl-paved streets, s Its temples and dome, ¢ Ta gaze, for the last, Op its poor, broken home, And in throngh the hush Of its portals 80 gray, : 80 livid, w0 ruined, So shrunken sway, This spirit shall steal, With 2 soundless tread, Through its darkensd home ‘With its mysterica dread, And will pausé, in ita round, In ita old, loved cell, Whr the dead heaxt 'will hang Lixe s ailent bell, That has rung in ifa joy O'er the marriage.feast, And tearfally tolled ' For the doad—thongh the teast; * Where the lights that crept To the dim eyes abovo Aro spont, and hava loft But the'* ashes of love,” And if Angels, bright Angels, © Should becKon away. ; 130y soul from ihis frame, It ball linger to say: Farewell through all time,— |, Eternat farewell; 8 1 go for thy deeds ‘To answer and tell, Forgive, if this soul Led thy poor feet astray; Forgise, if itd uses : Thy sirength wore sway; Forgive, if to Nature Tt mado thee rebel And fall into rains ; Forgive—ard farewell! g, Conxrz Lawa ST, JomN. CHICAGO, Why the Red Sea is Called Red. A question that has puzzled echolars found a. eolution, some time since, in the observation of an American submarine diver. Smith's **Bible Dictionary ” disousses learnedly the namo of the Red Sea. The “‘Dictionary” surmises that the name was derived from the red western moun- tains, red coral zoophites, etc., and sppoars to give little weight to the real and natural reason which came under our American’s notice. On one occasion the diver observed, while under ses, that the curloua wavering shadows, which crogs the lustrous, golden floor, like Frauen- hofor's lines on the spectrum, began to change sud lose themselves. A purple glory of inter- mingled colors darkened the violet curtains of tho sen-chambers, reddening all glints and tinges with an angry fire. Instead of that lus- trous, golden frmament, the thallasphera darkened to crimeon and opal. The walls grew purple, the floor a8 red as blood ; the deep itself was purpled with the venons hue of deoxodized life-currents. The view on the surfaco was oven more magnificent. The eea at first assumed the light, tawny, or yellowish-red of sherry wWine. Auon, thie wine-color grew indistinct with richer radiance ; a5 far a5 the ey could see, and_flashing in the erystalline splendor of the Arabian sun, was _glorious 88 a sea of rose. Tho dunsky -red sandstone bills, with a border of white sand, aud green and flowered. foliage, like an elabo- rately wrought cup of Bohemisn glaes enamel- ed with brillisnt flowers, held the sparkling liquid petals of that rosy sea. Tho gurface, on examination, proved to be covered with a thin brick-dust layer of infusoria slightly tinged with orange, Placed in a white glass bottle, this changed mto a deep violet, but_the wide sur- face of the external ses was of that magnificent and brilliant roso color. It was s new and pléas- ing example to the lustrous, ever-varying beauty of thaoccan world. It was caused by diatomace, minute algm, which under the microscope re- vealed delicate threads gathered in tiny bundlos, and containi disks, of that curious g rings, blood di coloring matter in tiny tabea. 3| having received the two subordinate degrees, | may roceive a dispensation to organize a Lodge.” {| one eingle article, have Ler initiati THE ADVOCATES OF JUSTICE, X Recapitulation of the Objects o the Order. The Organization---Provisions o3 the Constitution. In last Monday's TRIBUNE Was au srticle cone cerning the desirability of industrial organiza- tions throughout the country, their rapid forma.. tion, and the objects at which they sim. For the benofit of those readors who did not see that paper, wa here give a recapitulation of the OBJECTS OF THESE SOCIETIES, Which are : To resist the oppressions of contralized capi- tal, and to protect all their members in the righ to own and use afl they havo honestly earned by their labors, whether of brain or muscle ; To overthrow the credit-syatem, which bears most hesvily upon the working-olasses ; To settle all disputes 2s much as possible by arbitration; ~ . - To equalize Capital and Labor, and bring the producer and consumer nearer together ; To provide for tho education of the ignorant, and the sacial elevation of the working classes; To form Co-operative Societies wherever and whenever praoticable, fcr buying, selling, mano- facturing, and for any other -desirable par- pose. i Ono of these societies has just been formed in this city. 1t isstyled The Order of ¢he Advo- cates of Justice, and eonsists of the following : ORGANIZATION. - Bubordinate Lodge. First Degree—Student. = BSecond Degroe—Graduate, - State Chapler. Third Degree—Science. ; Composed of delegates elected by the Lodges. Masters and Matrons; Past Maiters ‘and Past Matrons of lodges, are entitled to the third de- gréo, eligible to offico, but not entitled to vota Grand Temple, Fourth Degree—Templar. # Composed of delegates electcd by the Chap- ters. Masters ard Matrons, Past Masters and Past Matrons of the Chapters are members of the Temple, entitled to the féurth degree, but not entitled to vote.’ . Chap. 7, Scc. 1, reads thus: shall appoint annually ‘AN AGEST, - who shall give sufficien't ‘bonds for the faithfal performance of his duties, and whose duties shall be to receive and .execute all orders for buying and selling 18+ued from Subordinates.” ere it will be eeen at once how carefully this body will guard against the encroachments of Capital, as the Agent i3 bound to perform his duty in buying and selling, and he will never agun bo appointed it he is foad defranding or eating in his business, eo that it will be to lug manifest advantage to_deal honestly and honor- ably bothin buying and selling. As the finan- cial aspect of 'this Order is the most important one, it will be found to meet all requiremerts, ail‘d will bo & benefit to both salesman and pur- chaser. " 8zo. 2. It ahall be the daty of Lodges to properly eare for any of their membera e D WIHEN SICE.”" - Workingmen everywhere know too woll tha benefit of this clapse. They do not need toé be told how terrible is their fate when sicknest overtakes them and they aro reduced to extrems poverty,—wifo and children shrinking from tho wolf at,the ddor, whilo the husband_and father is powerless to drive it away. In this organiza- tion chis ealsmity is provided agaimst, snd it commends itself in this particularto all who hnv;nolhi.ng but their labor on which to de- en 3 Art. 11 : o ' NO POLITICAL OR RELIGIOUS TESTS of membership shall bo Agpli«l in the Order.” This article secures it Trom ever being a¢ the mercy of political demagogues, or of any ono religious sect. All meet hero on parfect equal- ity and barmony, no matter what may be their ¢ The Temple il political or religious sentimonts. THE FEFS AND DUES are placed af as low a figure as they could be J withsafety to tho necessary expensesof ths Order. Art. 4, Sec.2: “The minimnm fge for member- ship ehall be, for men $2, and for women $1. And the minimum for quarterly dues shall be 30 cents for each membor; but each Lodge may otherwise regulato its own fees and dues,” That is, if the members.who have more moncy 3 wish to meet in » fino room ar splendid hall thoy can do 8o, increasing their fees and paying for it; but, a8 the intercste# of those who have but little must be preserved, the minimam fees are placed low, to give an opportunity to every and a0y mon and woman who wish tg unite, If they ha¥e any family, and are obliged to supply foor * or five with the necessaries of life, they will have their'fees back again the first week in the money saved on their purchases, as they will have everything furnished them’ at cost .prica. They can count the difference between re- +f .tail price aud wholesals price, and sum up the amount they will save in ono year, and then 1magine how long it will be before theycan have nice homesof their own. i Art. 8, Sec. 2: *Eight mon and thros women, 1n this Order, men and women are placed ON THE BAME FOOTING, and have equal rights. This sociely, therefore, il must commend itself to women, as they stand | on the same plane 48 men, and are equally oligible to ‘oftice. A widow who has s hufid life beforo her can come in hers and obtain all the necessaries of lite ab . low wprico. If she needs s sewing- machine £0 ensble Ler to earn a living, she can obtain at such low rates that she would, on that Yoo re- turned to ber soveral .times. Desides, if she were gick and in distress, hor wants would bo very likoly to_be supplied. It is hoped, too, that, nnder this_ nmow state of things, womén ‘| will be better paid for their labor. Sec, 4 “Ten Lodges working in s Stato may 4 apply to the Temple for authority to organize A CHAPTER, and the charter-feo for tho szme shall be €50.” . Sgc. 5. “When Chapters are organized, dis- pensations will be replaced by charters withont further fee.” This must commend itself to every one., The i chartor-fee for & Chapter is $30—ouly $5 & Lodge; which makes it a vory small sum divi 4 between many members. There is no further i{ fee. The members take the third degree mth- # out any additionsl expense. Skc. 7. “ Until & Chinpter ghall haye been or- ganized, the first Lodge organized in tho Siate -] aball be entitled to send a represontative to THE TEMPLE ;” and, when representatives are sent to the Tem- ple, they take. the fourth degree without any further fee. Thus s momber can work up aod take all the degrees on the initiation-fes of $3 for mon and $1° for women. This body utterly repudiates s money-aristocracy or & money-Fov- eyument. Tha members composing it do not buy fHoir neats in the Grand Temple, but they aro duly elected as representatives, and sent by their constituents, who pay their expeneca. that every man and woman, whether rick of poor, bas equal chanco'to office, sad_3 voico in the government of this Order, Surely, this feature ought to commend it to the considera~ tion of all persons who desire to be governed gn truly democratic principles, i The Grand Temple it nationsl in its character, embracing the differcnt States ; whilo,tho Chap~ elisthe State body, and Subordinate "Lodges may be organized ,in overy locality,—village, town, or city. B The financial feature of the Society is not the only one that commenas itself, but THE EDUCATIONAL FEATURE is & very important one. An ignorant person is always at the mercy of those who are more learned, and easily becomes the dupa of those bettor versed in the ways of tho worid. Provision ia made to guard against the unlearned mem- bers in this respect, and to bring them to .the level with ‘their moro educated .or professioual brothers aud sisters; for it must be understood that the term Indastry is intended to refer to all those who labor for & living, whether it be with head or hand, wi “tho pen, the plow, or the anvil.” The educs tional feature may take the form of lectures, essays, &c. Al the members of this organization, of whst: ever degree, are called Templars: Anothe democratic feature, No matter of what degref tho members may bo in the Order, they arc Templare, Mes, AL D. WIsK00P.. —The following advertincment is posted nest 3 Western depot on tbo front of a restaurant i Lunch, 25 cents ; dinuer, 50; & real gorge, 1 centa.” 3 .