Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, April 4, 1875, Page 3

THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE: SUNDAY APRIL 4, 1875.—SIXTEEN PAGES. 3 o — = ; THE FASHIONS. . Goods for the Sprfng Campaign,’ ‘Btyles and Fhe Latest Bevelopnielit of A the Tablier. Twine Goods and Their New Uses. The Mors Notablo Dresses on Exhibi- tion—Gloves and Flowers, Easter Costumes in New York. SPRING FASHIONS. AIW EASTER DRESSES. _ The few spring days which recently followed sfier the long, dreary, clothes-destroying winter made all'the old garments fecl most miserably ahabby. The longing for proper livery in which to do honor to the lovely weather was not lesson- ed by the facttbat Fashion hsd arrived fally equippod in some of our houses, and that a lead- ing firm aonounced 135 mow and different costumes directly from Paris. There was a don- ning of bonnets, & monnting of cars, stages, private carriages with livery, private car- ringes .wibout livery, hired carringes in the same condition'of elogance or democracy, coaches, clarences, coapes, phaetons, and bug- gios, and eachof the, fair sex according to her _means started ont to see what the seadon’s regu- lations after Lent ‘wero, as decreed by tke sovereign before whom Kings, Queens, sod Popes bow,—Dame Fashion. - Wo_are undergoing snother change, and all the pretty, neutral tints are being set aside for POSITIVE COLORS; colors that, after the eys has been solong ac- cnstomed to quiet chades, glare painfully upon i, and produce even 3 slighs feeling of nauses. I is almost universally said by men that women like change, especially as regards fash- ion, but there is probably no person of cultored taste who will not inwardly exclaim, “Why couldn't the ministers of fashion havo lét us alone with our lady-like Lues, ad not bLave bronght back to te these bright, decidod rainbow Lints again ?” The prevailing style in dress is still + THE TABLIER and cuirasse. In the latser thers. can be little alieration, but tho fofmer shows o decided change. Tho two naturally suggest two colors ar two shades of color] or else different material inthe same dress, and wo find this saggestion. yendered s fact in all the new costumes. The old pointed apron is entirely superseded by the’ pew tablier. Of the underskirt nothing shows excopting the back breadths of tke train, which are fall and variousiy plaited, “ganged, puffed, and otherwise made & Lttle bouflant just in tho back. The entire front is covered by the tablier in various desigos, some almost plain with maro- Iy '8 vertical trimming down tho centro of the bresdth, otbers with loose folds Iying across, and ‘pttiers still moet elaborately decorated. -The zide bicadths sre a species of exsgpgerated revers, beiog separate from the dress at the first ar second seam, faling nearly if not quite to the bottom of the train at the gide, and’ fastened in two places atthe back with buttons, bands, or large bows, which draw the whole glirt back as rigudly as hithqrto, leaving not a particlaof full- Dess anywhere excepting in the back breadths of the anderskirt. This 1 the typical overskirt, and is seen 1o all the best dresses. Of courss there are modifications’ of 1t, but. it is just as decided @ feature as was the pointed spron last year. The principal trimmings are still imife-plaitings, and they are seen in all materals and on all varieties of dresses. PLAID BAW SILES, basket woven, appear to an alarming extent, and in very prononce colors. They are beantiful in material, but inelegant a8 trimmings. They are new, and therefore they will be sought sfter, but 1f oxe's purse 1s limited it will hardly be advisa- ble tc invest in one of these decided plaids. As & Dpovelty in a wardrobe where thero are masany otHer things, they might answer, but for the one especisl dresa they would be quite too marked. The ingisible plaids in mode colors dozot come ander m;- sunictare. They are, some os thb:m, very pretiy, sud in soft light woolen or del fabrics wiil be much sought after. o ‘The onlo other really new garment is ‘This is an overdress the waist of which s cut procisely like thé old-fashioned underkerchief, Joined on the shoulders, with a plastrom in front znd behind, to which is 2ttached the overskirt, thet joins at the sides ashort way below the waist. Thess are variously ornamented with braid, embroidery. and machine-stitching. ¥ The newest dezigns in show little difference in shape. Thoy are mere= 1y modifications of last years’ talmas, dolmaus ichus, =and sleeveless jackets. In materisl, botwever, there is a now feature. The ground of them is made of woolen lace, upon which is ap- plied in various ornamental designs cachemire, .edged mith gitk braid or jet. The effect is. very onique and beautiful, snd “the patterns varied wnd artistic. THE TWIKE GOODE, so-called, which ws heard of in Paris two years 8go, ere here at last. Twenty years ago, the netting-needle was &_common “implement in 3 young lady's band. If tae band was pretty and gracefal, petting showed it off to advantage, and everyone is apt to think that, if noi realy pretty, ber hand is not 50 'bad after all. . There- fore, vetting flourished, snd the square meshes, which were afterwards to be darned with varions devices, grew rapidly under the éxpert fingers. And all this was for the keeping mamma's fine * chairs from undus soil. BMore recently the art nas been revived, also, for variod dainty articles in - the .way of. basai- nette covers and chairs. The _squares of these have been wrought 1n 8 guipure pat- tern, and are quits dainty. Aud hero they-are atlast, in heavy yellow flax or linen thread, the eams fabric, tnmmed with anetted and tasseled fringe of the same material, to be used for the most elegant of tabliers ard cuirasses, which are to be worn over the richest of silks. Just the old anti-macagsar production with ecrn thread substituted for white, 2nd behold a.costly gar- ment. With the proper 6ilk robe in pale ecru and dark brown to wear under it, it msy be bought for £300, while the ncited fabric itself will be for sale by the yard at from $15 to'$20. Embroidered grenadine cuirasses and tabliers to match are in the now style, and in large block meshea, ranging in price from §30 to 875. These are unmade, as are also aspecies of similar gar- ments in ecra lace guipure, which vary from $15 to 825 the sct. The linen guipures sre vory dsome, much more - nearly resembling the band-made flax goods. English ecrn embroider- les also abound, the taste etill runnivg to those pale half shades or the natural grays., Asnother very pretty style of summer goods is __ THE EMBROIDEEED BALZATMES DRESS, with tablier, cuirasee; and embroidered trim- mings, ranging from 830 fo $38 the psttern. These come, like the before-mentioned goods, in boxes ready to be made up, with perfect design A great variety of Mexicaines are Ppresented fa "he'l‘!hcm llud!li, aod in thfl:'luusde Open ‘weavings. These are olegant goods, an: in all silk are worth $3a yerd, v.ndfneikad ‘wool §2.- They aro various in designs. showing &tripes and plaids, somotimes in solid ecra and At others ecrn and white. In silk and velvet Boods comes a epecies of grenadine at $£6.50 a yard. The mame in stesl-blue, velvet-striped nd plaided, is $5.60. A brows and ecrn, aud 8 blae aod ea plaid Mexicaine is worth §Ss while a very bandsome eiik 2nd wool stripe only” 81,75, and in tho natursl gray shade BL50. " Crepo lisses sre again in market in al the delicate lovely suades of pale pink, mauve, blue, and green. They combine with silk or thin tnazarisls meat charmingly for dinner or evening drseses, and are worth $3 & yard. Passing from these we find > A KEW LINE OF WOOLEN GOODS in invisible plaids at 81's yard.© There are also ‘Others from 60 cents to $1.50 with gencine Light tamal's hair, suitable for spriog weer, b8 inches wide, at $4a vard. In lighter fabrics thero is.3 line of French chambrays in strives. ‘These are tery fine in texture, the colors woven in, 8o they 1re perfectly fast. They will make very pretty .morning dresses, and are also particalarly suita- :ll:dl.n:raunz school-girls. . These are $5:centa o . ° THE FOULARD CAMBRICS R are this yaar msde in imitakion of twilled sni Blriped csmel's bair, a5 also in checks and stripes Jnimitation of foulard silk, £0_closely following “Rekh fabrics s ecarcdly to be distinguished from These are 85 cents & vard, Oreandies are in new shades with new designe at from 40 {o G0 cents & yard. English calicoes zre very elab- orate in pattern, and are 28 cents & yard. ‘There ara also very cheap lines of goods, end~ ing. with s &t 20 conts s yard and plain wash pling and Tanjore stripes at12}¢ conts o yard. Hbse Totter avo really excellent fn dasign, and, artistically made, place a’ pew spring drees within the reach of even the most impecunious. 1f simply and stlishly made. they can be worn ‘while fresh, and then thrown agide. As Chicago sidewalks and soft-coal ataiosphere so soon destroy dainty fabrics, and make the nicest gar- mont looked frayed and soiled, & half dozen of these cheap dresses in a season wowd be a de- sirabla addition to any toilette. _Unfortunately Amoricans bave not yet learned the besuty of freshness and cheapness as the French have, and still prefor rich goods, even for the street, ywhere they are soon spolled, though theymust perhaps - be worn in their defaced condition. There is nothing specially new in ¥ LACES. Elegsnt fabricastill supply the lnxurious tastes of the few, aud make the many envions. There is, however, for practical use, a long line of cot- ton and linen guipures for tabliers and cuirasses, Dboth mn the picce and in trimmings, which wil supply the many with praity fancy garments. One of these, mew _in fabric but copying an ancient pattern of fine desigh, is caljed *© tigua.” > .. Among the thin dress goods should have been mentioned the greasdiue-lsines, s fabric 1ather thicker and closer than a-grenadine at £1.50 & yard, elso.basget chock grensdines, at $1.50'a Jard, ‘Thero-are also tho soft crepe colbnis at %1.50 & yard, which are used so muchin hat trimmings and fichus, . IN GLOVES there is but little chauge. Fine kids are still piain and many-buttoned. Uodressed kids, which will bo mora worn -than’ ever, are only buttoned with opd fastening at the centre of .the wrist, the npper part being whole. They are known a8 tho * Mosquetaire,” and cost $1.50 er pair. The seamloss- Lisle-thread copies the d closaly, with both plain_and open-work tops, and cdst from 50 cents 1o $1.50 a pair. Eveping kids, called Luccas, may e bought for &.2? and £1.50 & pair, in'all the delioato'shadesand in two and three buttops. Children's gloves are in large varioty, and lace mits, without fingers, with balf fingors, and with wholo ingers, afe & -plenieous abomination at frgm 50 couts to $6a pair. They bring vividly to ‘mind the old-fash- 1oned farmer’s wifo in her best calico, much be- ruffied, very long in the waist ard squaro in tho bsek, with a handkerchief made of white plaid jacomet trimmed with cotton edging, and her toil-wern bands coverod with these same black- et substitutes for gloves, -sitting in stato to re- ceive the parson or preside at the sewing socioty. THE MODEL DRESSES ' were very numerous. Among the more eloezant may be meontioned 8 bleck silk with an oyer- dress of gray anod white plaid sjlk grensdine trimmed with black and white lace. It \as not especialiy hoticeable among 60 many more strik- ing costumes, bmt it wes especially slegant There was & black silk meade withtsblicr, basgae, and demi trafn. The front of the tabher was perfectls plain, with & tnmming of crimped tapo fIringe like & ruching passing down the entire front, edzed each side with = frill of Cnantilly lace.. On the first side gore, midway of the breadth were five rows of frioge, headed with jet beadings. Tho train was trimmed with knife- plaitings. Very wide revers were fastened in the bacx seam of tne first gide gore, and-were canght togetber with sstin .bows at tho back. They were tnmmed with fringo and lace similar to that on the taplibr, which passed entirely aronad them, and across the edge of the skirt in frons. The basque was a fancy. postillion in shape, trimmed with fringe jets, lace, and satin bows. The slesvas had thrse rows of fringe placed in inch-wide stripes heading eeck other their entire length, Frilla of lace and fringe finished the waist, the whola forming & unique and beantiful costume. - § . A DRESS OF CAVE-AT-LAIT SILE - bad a tablier composed of five. rows of loose folds edged with fringe, snd pointed in front, The demi-train was trimmed with & sories of knife-plaitings for half its depth, while the wide revers which cover the sides sod nearly” the en- tire back, being fastened with bows, which seem to be the specialty of the new dresses, wers in two long gores, the front buttoning over on to the back. The pointed basque Wwas finished with fringe, with & fan-shapea ornament of knifo- paiting, both front and back. : Arsvers forming 2 wide collar was trimmed with frings, while an inuer one, ontlining a narrow Pompadoar, turn-~ edupward. The slesves were finished with bands, bowe, and knife-plaitiugs, forming deep cuffs, while a reversed pleating the sleeve next the inside seam. ' A beautifal . .. DINNER OR RECEPTION DRESS was of light “faon " trimmed with a shade, of pain brule. The tablier aud revers at the eide were laid in loose folds, with kmife-plaited sashes of the brown silk running through thom ot the side, the silk being cut in the folds to al- low it. The train of the dark brown ailk was trimmod with the regulation knife-plaiziogs. The lower part of. the back of the basque was & fan of kmife-plaitings of light silk, while the cuirasge was of the dark shade. Intricate cuffs and collar of the two shades of silk completed if, while Ih!%l bow of the lighs eilk trimmed with broad rich laco fastened i at the at. A very light dove-colored silk was elaborately made up with shirred puffiogs and passemen- 'he flounce on the train was vary deep, ished at the edge with a wide flounco edged with ruffles, and finished at the top with box plaits and vertical shirringss The tablior snd sides had a nasrower shirred flounce, above which were vertical puffings made with &hirrs, and edged with a very elabcrate passomenterie and tassel trimming. Bows of the silk wers at the side. The upper part of the train was laid in inch-wide plaita. The basque aud sleeves were trimmea with shirred puffs and passementerie, passing up the front across tue shoulders snd down the back. The puffings on the sleeves ‘were placed over the elbow, with the passemen- terie above and Lelow.: Folds and bows finished them at the wrist. . ‘- Asilkin s fraiso ecrasse shade, had a tablier of striped fraise ecrasse, and gray silk passing disgoually across the front, It was edged at the bottom with s knife-plaiting of wine-colored silk, with six rows of knife-plaitings, alternately of the light silk, the striped, and the wine-color. ‘Knife-plaited sashes of the fraise and the wine- color trimmed the back, The cuirasse wasof the striped silk trimmed with wine-oolar, while the sleeves were of the light-colored sk, ANOTHEN 0DD AND DECIDEDLY STRIKING COSTUME was of very light cafe-au-lait trimmed with dark- brown sjlk, and & chocolate and white striped silk. A pavy-blne silk had an odu trimming of blue and white plaid Eilk, of new texture and materisl, woven to resemblo the baslket-oloths. A ladylike dress was 1n two shades of gray, the train being of a dark lead-color made in two puffs with vertical shirrs. The Tevers wers of zhe light silk, trimmed with & deep knife-plait- ing of the dark shade, but the whole was mared by 8’ checkerboard tablier of the two shades, The cuirasse was of the light silk, with sleaves of the dark color. e 3 _Theunique hand-embroidersd net cuirasse and overdress epoken of before was made up over an ecrn Bilk trimmed with brown. The trim- ming on the boitom, of plaitinga of the brown silk Boparated by volutes of the light silk, was quite new iu design and yery handsome. - WHITE DRESSES in English embroidery, and with puffs and trim- ‘mings of Valencienues, differ but_slightly from Iast Benson—Enife-plaited saskies loop them up. Spanish lace cnirasses and tabliers will be worn this season both over dack and light dresses. They are looped up“with elaborate bows and sashss of black silk. . 2 Of bonnets littla can be 8aid a8 yot. -The Now ‘York woman gets her new bonnat before Easter, for all the openings usually occur just before thas time. The Chicago belle must- either send Toast or, wait, for the importations of -millinery do not Rurive hero until after "that _iime, with few exceptions. . Black' and white chips will prevail again. The shapes are - larger, and' the brims soft; and left 80 aa to be turned up at any curve or’ augle that ehall suit the face of tne wearer, for turned ap they: will be, in front, behind, one side, both gides, or dingonally. Very long enda aro seen on Bome of them, while the flowers are simply ex- quisite. On naturally nanecu‘ to find them iragrant, and the latest novelty is to moisten the little ball of cotton that forms the calyx of most artificial flowers, with tho essential oil ‘of the blossom. ‘Thus'attar of rosesisused for the Tose, and from its lasting perfume Leepd tha artificial counterfeit daintily perfumed as long 28 it remains fresh. “So far, these scented blos- #oms do not 8sem to have been brought to the Chi- cagomarket, 80 cne feelsa little disappointad to find them looking 50 gesuine, but perfectly odorless. Beautiful roses range trom £0 centa 10 21.50 spiece. The most exquisite can be bought for the latter price.. A lovely. group of wild roses was 3. ' The flower garnitare will bo even more profuse than ever, and it is only their perfect beauty that can render it tolerable. . More definite descriptions. of millinery must be left for & fature time. * S — -..METROPOLITAN MODES. . £rom Our Oun orrespondent.. . .- New Yoz, March SL—Tast Bunday was Eas- fer, 'as you very well know, and it brought forth a modest show of spring atfire, though nothing like what it is supposed to provoke: Indeed, Faaterfell go esrly this yésr-that many people were scnre-ly- prepared for it, sod many were aftrighted at the ideay of donning their fresh garbs, with the snow .hardly off the ground. There are_others, however, who would cheer- fully undergo any social mertyrdom rather than fail in their immemorial custom of gracing the Baster sorvicés in s new. bonnet. And, afterall, how-should’ we'ever know thie fashions—ihe genniné 'wearable fashions, mob thoss of tho plates ana msgazines—were it not for these noble picneers, who gladly sacrifics, if need be, besuty, grace, and becomingmess, for the sako of firat introducing & novel design? ‘A majority of tho y ©" PASTER cOSTUMES are of blackellk or black cashmers and eilk Black cashmere, of thelighter qualities, in the form of aprons and basques, or sacques, will bess fashionable as ever, until it {s replaced by grena- dine and foulard. The rarest tabliers are embroi- dered all-over by hand in beautifal, looss sprays, or wronght in the open wheel patterns, known 28 English embroidery. They. ere so beautiful that every woman would have an embroidered overekirt if she could afford it. Bat shecan't, —that is, the averago she ‘cannot,—and 5o she tries to content herself with something plainer. ‘The neivest shapes of cashmere aprous are those perfectly square, open from the hem ¢o the belt in the ‘back; ana those deepty and sharply pointed in front and raised very high in the back with sashes of the same. Neither shape:is so suitablo . for cashmere a8 the well-worn ronnd apron, raised in soft folds on the sides. All the looping of the new aprons is man- sged by sbirrings, ploced on the hips or in the back. With these. overskirts are frequently- worn ~half-fitting. sacques, instead of basques,. a little undervestof silk completing -this snit, and leaving the esoque adaptable to any other costume 8s woll. AN IMPORTED SUIT is like this. The silk skirt, just resting on the ground an inch of two,is trimmed with rows of the finest Luife-plaiting, three wide ones of cashmare, the intermediate narrow ones of silk. Across the front nre looped, .scarf fashion, two long breadths of cashmers edged-on ths .Jower sido with a 2-inch knife-plaiting of silk, " These snshes droop low in front—tba upper one falling over the lower—are sloped .upward toward the back, whore they are tied once; the ‘ends *haoging over each other mnearly to the” bottom of the skirt.. The basque is cut ia. four, ronnd . tabs, and theso tabs are bordered, uuder thoircorded edge, by s knife-plaiting, each, of silk and cashmero; the latter being tho doepor, and set under the former. The sleoves are silk (the basghe is cashmere), and, in place of cuffs, havo alterna.e rows of knife-plaiting, which produce s very dressy . effect, 2nd are axtremely becoming.' A doublo plaiting serves instesd of a collar on the neck. With this suit goes a _ MANTELETTE OF CASHMERR. This i3 = single breadth of cashmere entirely bordered by s 2-inch sitk koife-plaiting. It is doubled together, and caught, at the closed end, for three-eighths of ayard, like an old-styls Arab mantle. When the mantle is thrown over tho shouldars it hangs low enough to conceal the basquo. The two long ends aro then érossed over the front,—a belt Loldiug them trimiy 2gainst the figure,—and carried Tound fo the back, whera the two_ corners, nearest the baock, are canil:z together by a very cunning biack silk bow. Taismaoteletts is one of tho prettiest I have seen; very simpie, gracofnl, snd easily constructed. It is suitable for any soft mate- rial ; but is most charming in cashmere. In black it answers for any black or g.:’rny'snu or plaids abading in that way; but for brown hues a matensl of that tinggis far moro effective. Indeed, the tone of a Leantiful out-door cos- tume 8 too often spoiled by the addition of somo wrap which, by color, shape, or.size, is not adapted o it. - : WAISTS, * or bodies, a8 our British sistcrs are prone tostyls them, give evidence of change. Round, cuirass basques, though still worn for traveling dresses, are much too simple, modeat, and sensible to re~ main the mode long. We -could not stand so marked plainness very long; it wonld demoral- ize us, and, before we knew if, we shouldbe seeking classic forms, graceful drapery, una- broken lines. - ¥ £ 1If the French people are the modern Atheni- avs, a8 they are 80 fond of claiming, the French costuming i8 as far from classic in ita aspect 28 can well be arranged,. While they chooso to in- sist on their artistic instinct in all other respects, they are determined not to be artistic, in the ancient semse, in their habiting. Per- haps, after oll, they are wiser -than . we guess in- this; for, besutiful a8 the old Greek garb was, its chief beauty was the enhancement it gave to the human figure, which, alas ! is not what it was in the, days of the aris- tocratic Athenian democracy. When you eon- sider it, how wonld our great Democrats look in & Grecisn robe ? Just imagine the Hon. Allen . Thurman, for example, rising from his Sen- atorial arm-chair to lauoch & bolt, gracefully emphasizing his remarks by a wave of classic white drapery! Orour own Mr. Cox, with the lingering light of & western sanset in his beam- ing conntenance, poetically closing a poble pero- mation by an artistic poss in’ an ancient penloma! 3 - What-has all this to do with waists ? Well, to be suro, what has it ? I began by saging that waists showed signs of a ¢hange, and so they do. TFor everstking except strvet dress, basgues are bncomn%inaxe and more {ancifal, a8 the season grows. Plaited backs, scalloped backs, pointed backs, postilion backs, fan backs, every kind of back, is coming back. In frontis trimming in Borizontsland lengthwise rows ; or cascades and shells of knife-plaiting with curious little bows tucked in here and there. Almost every basque Tas sleeves of different stuff from the waist,’and 5 thia fashion is only pretty when s certain se- verity of decoration is observed, it is to be hoped that what now promises -to be an epidemic of embellishment will- be checked ere:its ravages ara widely folt. 5 ' THE WASHABLE GOODS are, a8 always, among the most sttractive of ‘the, new fabrics. There 1a's noticeabls prevalenceof linen stuffs, which are 5o cool and fresh-looking, and do_up so well, that one cannot have too many. ‘Here, as everywhere, plalds are found Dboth in bright and dull.colors ;- but stripes, fig- ures, and even plain grounds, can also be ha 80 thas, to a certain extent, individual tasta may be exercised.. It is noticeable that the majority of American prints and cambrics have white grounds, and that the colored figuring is 80 close that the white is reduced to & very serviceable degres. .- A great many cotton stufls for over-dresses and polonaises” come in open meshes, basket work, or plsided with solid and- open blocks. Among these is & cotton guipnrs in gray, brown, and corn shades, about three-quarters of a yard wide, and not expensive. For afternoon dress, and the renovation of some aucient silk s] thess gmipures aro useful adjuncts to a wardrobe somewhat varied ; bat for constant woar I fancy they would soon tire. - Those of as whose finan- cial: ends only meet and never lap, {0 whom economy.-is second nature, do well to-avoid fanci- ful or strongly-marked materials, sincethey are the ones to go out of fashion first, and to weary our taste earliest with their extrinsic charm.” We are never ont of liking for simple oalicoss, plain grenadines, or unfigured, soft gros grains ; but When e go beyond these—rwhich at present form merely the basis of costumes—-we always ran the risk of premature distaste. . - % CAMBRIC COSTUMES are made up precisely like wool ones. Ruffles, ‘bends, plaitings; etc., in endless variety, just as if there never had been a wash-tub in existence. The utter folly of such swits is 80 apparent that one would naturally suppose these hosts and hosts of them would never be disposed of. But they will be sold, in all probability, ere another month i passed, which only proves that we are totally doprived by nature; and that we as readi- ly follow a bad fashion as' a ‘good one. Inthe imported plaid cotton costumes, the basques ars cnt tighbgldng, and often on the bias, in order to display the plaid to' better advantage. . This < it' undoubtedly ' accomplishes; but when it enters the laundry door, .hope is loft, bobind. You may imagine thet it will Took woise than sny cambric_you ever owned, but when the thing is . sctually ret to you, it will exceed in forloroness ‘your most vivid anticipstion. The grest-dofects. of the Franch summer suits -8 -having the ‘waists ail made cloge-fitting. They are well-nighcortain. to shrink uncomfortzbly, and are not half so be- coming s a body which outhnes withiout cling= ing to the form. ODD3 ANP ENDS.. i As newly-imported gowns have turned-down nd rolling collars, the newest collars of white and colored linen partake of the esme form. - & ‘modification of the romantic Byran coliar, very open at the throat, tho roulean with deep turned- over points, -and the - Madame Angot, turned over evenly all round, are' the. modiste ones at present. © 5 = @ = . Even. watarproof stuffs come in plaids, and, though calfed invisible, the ‘blacks are” perfectly appacens. ‘Thoy are rather attractive, vastly su- perior in appearance to our old waterpropf ma- Yerials, and a protty cloak of these new goods is not out of plsee for-traveling and excursions ‘in all soris of weather. It-pightnot even be sue. pected of_any.relationship t&t_hn most gp.gllvep-‘ ent and hideous of garmen 8 ‘origindl wa- erproof. - ! yery acbiteary. WILLIAMS VS. STOREY.. Opinions of Prqminent Members 4 of the Local Bar. Tx-Tustices Banyon and 0'Mallsy Have Their Say, @ - Tells About Contemipt The ‘Latter ‘ Other Days. \ Mr, Goodrich Tersely Desoribes Mr, Storey ~ ~—Learned Decisions by Leary ) “and Others, Williams Generally Sustained. fines Judge Williams delivercd his elaborate docision in the Storey.contempt case, Tae Tars- UNE has poblishéd - at length the opinions of maoylawyers touching the lawand the eqaity thereof. Even though these opinions have vasied widely, 88 those.of lawyers are apt todo, yeb it cannot be fairly said that the ground haa keen covered, so far as the lsgal profession is con- cerned. Those of its members who have boen interrogated are men who have attained whatin this empty and tiansitory world is called fame, but who have won it by peraistent devotion to ‘books alone, who “}avé fed on digests, reports, codes, and precedents,—whose jniciest litoraturo fias been a treatise on navigable waters,— and who live, in short, in an atmos- phere of pure and ' untroubled. law, far removed from tho pains, pleasures, and passion, that animate common men, always keeping their tompers, and: invariably accosting one another as *‘my learnad brother.” In.order that there may, be mo one-sidedness in presenting the views of the jurisconsults, THE TRIBUNE has in- terviowed 'the more numerous class of those who, while they may not possess national reputa- tions, yet retain some of the pleasant imperfec- tions of mankind; who have strong feslings and projudices, 4nd do not - hesitato to avow them; who hava little 1aw and much human nature ; who understand the feelings of themasaes, and reflect the prevailing sentiment of the circlea in which they move. Somo of those interviewed have themselves been fined for contempt of court, and their practical knowledgo is worth more then all the fine theories of eminent legal lights. Gonerally spesking; it will bo seen that *hese men do not affect knowledgo when they have it not,,and are not ashamed to say they do not know. They donot refer you to tho celebrated decision by Bpivins, C. J., in the cass of Muggins va. Jones. They talk right ot in fresh, breezy English, and_let you® have their viewa abount Storey and Williams, and everything in parkic- alar, with great plaioness. It is like breathing oxygon to hear Gogdrich. after- emerging from the dreary, dusty catacombs of some . other G. But here ure tho opinions’: - 4. H. BANYON, - Thé reporter first callod on the Hon, Augrstus H. Banyon, late Chicf-Justice of ths Police Court, whose opinions oa knotty law points used to be remarkatle for their perspicuity: Unfor- tunately, since his retircment to private life, the 'onorable Haugussus has given little heed to the important questions whickhave ariscn, and was, 1n fact;-.actusliy compelied to sadgmitshis igno- ranco of the law in relation to constructive con- tomp}, though he has often fined prisoners therefor. At least he would not express his views, declining to commit himself to one side or the other for fear of hurting his friend's feeliogs, He i3 not 8o communicative as formerly, and seems to bave loat his old friend- ship for, reporters, apparently looking upoz th as *‘moral assassins,” and men who are unwill- ing to .acknowledge unadulterated ability in oshers. The Jearned gentleman, however, al- ways. greeta them kindly, and received the re- porter yesterdsy in his shirt-slesves, baving evi- dently just left the breakfast-table, since ho was smacking his lips sod picking his teeth. He seemed surprised at the visit, but smiled gra- ciousiy. ; The first queation—‘‘T am gotting the opinions of .men of legsl- sbility in regard to the Storey case, and would be glad to have yours?”—stag- éred him, and the reporter was sadly disap- pointed with the answer, * I ’ave none. Bey?oonet——fllv' you not read up on the ques- tion < S Mr. Banyon—Well, you see, Mr. Storoy is ba friend hof uains, and 8o his Judge Willisms, and 1 would notlike to say ulnyLbiuq about hit. Reporter—But the points involved are clear to a gentleman of your understanding aud logal &camen ? y ¥ 3Mr. Banyen—It his the flist case hof the kind we 'ave ’ad, and ha man would 'sve to read up beforo 'e could hexpress han hopinion. Besides, lnham heating mg breakfast, hand reading the Beecher case, hand my mind his full hof hother things than contempt. - N 3 lsepo?mz—wmt have you got for breakfast, ndge *Mr. Banyon—Some heggs hand 'am, hand mufing, hand broiled pigeons, hand buttef¥d toast, band cold roast beef, hand hale, hand ba few hother things, hand the testimony hin the Bescher case; 4 Reporter—You do not like to say anything be- cause Mr. Storey is your friend. Isho a person- alfriend ? e . Mr., Bsnyon—Yes, W. F. hand hi hare hold friends. 'E hadmires me. ’E eaid to me once hin "8 private hofco: ‘Banyon, heff hi ’'ad your legal knowledge hi should bes proud man.” Hand hi replied, *lr. Storey, ht ’ave some gifts in the way you mention, but they come.by 'ard wark, hand pagplicman sof fanqamental ‘prin- ciples hof cookery. Hi learned the rules hof law when hi was ha cook. - You treat the two {uflea has you do ha brace of birds, .You open hem to got hat the fnsides hof the caso, hand then' you stuff them with prece- dents,- hand :.- season. - fhem.. with- -the flowera hof your helogueunce,.hand roast them by a glow fire hof fees, hand dine hoff them with ha gravy bof costa.” - - It was very evident' from the restless move- ments of the learned Judgo that the cold air rushing in through the open front-door chilled his body, snd there being also » manifest desira on his part to ssy * Good day, sir,” the reporter, not wishing to aid a physician in running up a bill and an wundertaker in_ disposing of his wares, thanked - the Judge for his “can't-catch-me” decision snd withdrew. Some enviable_and vulgar peoplo may eay that ex~Justice Banyce is not, capable of forming an opinion upon anything excopt quoit-pitching ; but these blockheads must bear in mind that he ia on » par with his contemporaries of the Dénch asd Bar, none of whom, except ‘Judge ‘Williams, has thus far venturad to give a * hout and hout”. judgment on construtive contempt. - MB. MITCHELL srid: There is & division of sentiment, gomé thinking it was'right to send Storey to jail and some not. . 0 Reporter—What is your opinion ? Mr: Mitchell—Well, you see the lawyers ara mixed. There never was a case like it, and, tho question having never been studied, I cannot sca Bow su oplnion can be given about a supersedens ib a contempt case. - E . Reporter—How did Judge Willisme’ argument impress you ? S Ar. Mitoholl—I think it was 8 good ond, and if Storey really intended to abuse the Gr#nd Jury, I think it was probably right to commut him to jail S ot Mm F ARRELL 'was next approscheq, and in snewer to the neual question said: - ‘I think.Jadge Williams is S ReEarté Wiy ? oporter— - Mr. Farrell~BecsnsaIdo, - . Reporter—Do you nat .believe in constructive contempt ? 3 Mr. Farrell—Yes, but I do not think Btorey ‘was guilty of it. ‘That article an the-Grand Jury did not abuse the Grand Jury. - Reportor—But if was held thatic did. Mr. Farreli—Well, I haven't examined the 1mol 5 GEORGE FAGER. The:**g0lid ™ man of the Barwas then inter- viewed—he who furnishes bail for eriminals sud clients, a8 woll as dofends them, exasting charges for both. This i George Esger, Who i said to be worth $100,000; Since the passage of the-Civil-Rights bill he has had many -negro chents, many of whom have tecdfastly refused to have any but an ** United . Btates lswyer,” and Eager. with an. oye to business, has announéed himself to be such, and has thus secured a monopoly. - Reporter—WHiI you give me your views on the Storey case? | % % 3 V: % Ar. Epger—/ think putting him in ths jog was The Judges oughth to get six movths each in the Bridewell for patting shos- makers and tailors in as Justices or the Peace, when thera are plonty“of lawyers who. want the posftion. - AU A . 3 ~"Reporter—Excuse me, but I'wish fo!lesrn question in allits bearings, and cannot ssy any.. what you have to szy about comstructive con- tempt? Mr. Eoger—Thers oin’t none. I think we won't be eafe in this country if Judges carry such power as that. If we want to criticise Grand Jurors and public officers, it 18 right we should doit. It hurtthem fellows on the Grand g:ry becausa they did not want Storey to snow em up. Reparter—Have yon examined the 1aw on the subject? * - Eager—Yes ; looked it all up. g Half these Iawyers aranrd bere come to me t0' g6t points in such cases. They are & set of &— ignorant scalawags, whose opinions are not warf.En print~ ing. §epnflex—?nrdon me, but did not Juige Will- iams present the law properly ? - Mr. Bager—Yes; but he had the weak side of tho subject. I think he ia'all right, but he made & little mistake., : Itb?partax—m. Storeyis a friend of yours, i he 10 Mr. Eager.—Yes; and_if -we had two or thres hundred Times . thronghout the country, the United States would not be going to h—. You will wake up some morning and find Chicngo gono. : ‘The reporter was unable to get an explanation of the prognostication, as Mr. Eager had to soo what * that d— moke, * as ho called him wantod- . Oneofthe “brightest hights ™ (no reference is made to conntenance) of the Armory Bar is M, Callaghan, a_good-natured little Tiahman, who isnoted for his command of language. AN the hard words: in the dictionary are on his tongue’s end, and ke woyld makean excellent “caller ” gt & spolling mateh. o Said the reporter t6 bim ;: Mr. Callaghen, have you any objections to stating your private views on Mr. Storey’s caso ? Mr. Callaghan—Well, I bave not pondered on the questions,—have not reflected to ny grest extent, and I am hardly competent to express an opinion: : H“I‘I‘\i%omr—no you think Judge Williams did Mr. Caliaghan—Well, the ZTimes has been abnsive to an extraordinary degree; but Ido not know sufficient of the case to make up my miand. To do 8o would necessitate an examination of the laws and techoicalities. The question is a nico one. The people dught to be jealous, and not let any ono assume extra-judicial power. It is & momentous logal proposition, and requires superior raflection and referenco fo law bools to grasp it sufliciently to give an opinion. GOODRICH. ‘The divorce specialist, AMr. A. Goodrich, ex- presaed himseit readily and emphatically ; Reporter—What do you think of tgs Storey case ? Mr. Goodrich—I think Storey is & —— — —— ————: bot I thiok Will- iama had no businesa to fineStorey dnd itaprison him without sllowiog bim fo appesl from the decision. " 3 ; Rez?mrtex-—la an appeal allowable in suck a ease ‘ Mr. Goodrich—T think so, nexén;mx—ho you believe in cénstructive con- temp! ; Mr. Goodrich—No, I'believa that in every caze of contempt a man ouglt to be tried by a jury, and bave the right to give bail, becsuse the Judges would then not have the power to exer- cise their biss, nnd be prosecutor, jury, and Judge. I think, in this case, both Storey and Willtamg will get their deserts. Reporfer—Is constructive contempt possible in connection with a divorce case? Mr. Goodrich—L suppose so, when the Judge gives 8 contemptible constraction t¢ divorce- laws! [Laughter by Mr. Goodrich.] = . ME. WILLIAM BUSH, - o lwhq has bushy hair, delivered himself of the fol- owing : I wonld not prefer to express an opinion unless 1 had heard something definite; and - THE ‘TrIBUNE hasn't time and space to devote toa definite opinion,—sometimes giving an ides that may be one-gided when it is elaborated. The roporter returned thanks for' this lucid and comprehensive view of the matter, and sought D. JAMES LEARY, B who knows how it is himself. He eaid: “I have caréfully considered the matter, and will state this: I have looked atit in-all its facos, and I have considered from be- ginning to end that Judge Williams was correct.” Reporter—For what reasons ? Mr. Leary—From the very reason that the Grand Jury, during its session ander the coin- mon iaw, is & part and portion of the Court, and i8 80 considered by Blacksione in his commenta~ ries—that they are a part and portion of every criminal court, and that a contempt to the Grand Jury ia a contempt. to the Conrt itaclf, becanse that body under Blackstone's commentaries and the English commor law is of itself a contempt to the Court. Besides that, I think the comments made by the Zimes, in the unusual dirty lan- guage that it usod, was a contempt itself to the Court directly. z Reporter—What do you understand by con- stractive contempt ? Mr. Learv—I don’t think thers is any such a thing. If it is contempt &t all, it is a direct con- tempt, and not a constructive contempt. That decision quoted from, and basing Judge Will iams’ opinion upon that, was too old to be used in times of modern civilization. -There is no such thing kuown to our present law and pres- ent practice. I thinkifit was contempt at all it was direct withont any constraction placed up- on 1, except contempt to the Court, and con- tempt to that portion of the Courj which is the Grand Jury, sud under the direct supervision of the Criminal Court of this county, Cook County, to-wit. Reporter—Do you deny the right of the press t0 criticige public officials? - ~“Mr. Leary—1I do not; but I deny the right of the press to make it a personal matter, and abuse their right; and I think that the Zimes usurped in that capacity. i Hr. Callaghan, who bappened to come in while Mr. Leary was talking, hers interfected: *The comments of the Times to my mind bave been villainous and perscnal, and it was time some stop should be put to them.” 5 Mr. Leary: resumed—I have examined the question, and _have counseled with lawyers who bave practiced twenty and thirty-three yesrs, and we bave passed mpon that question, exam- ined the authorities, and ficd.that tiere is no sach tiling as constrnctive contempt. We have gone ‘back as far 85 we could consistently go back, and found no such thing, At that discus- sion, I made the remark that Wilbur F. Storey onght to have been incarcerated ten years ago for contempt snd kept there until the praseat time, becauso I think he 18 50 contemptible that the sooner we get him out of Chicago the batter we will bo off ; and that would give the city a decent rapatation before the world. = Reporter—You do not seem to have avery good opinion of Mr. Storey. 3 Mr. Leary—Well, I don't think Storey is a bad man himself, but he ia very extravagant in his expressions. g i The reporter next tried to'find . . EX-JUSTICE CHARLES O'MALLEY, the well-kmown West-Side Police Court' criminal lawyor. There may be some gqualifications in which Mr. O'Malley does not shine forth aa con- spicuously as some other members of the Bar, but thore ara’ others in which he excels them, and among these Iater must be included an intimate scquaintance with the ancient and modorn classics and an utter fearlessness in the conduct of: anything he undertakes to carry throngh. Hence it comes that Mr. O'Malley ia at once ono of the most flowery as well as'one of tho most powerful speakers of the lrish- American Bar, and in the niffitter of contempts he is_acknowledged to be an expert, as, in his experience 28 Polico Justice in the earlier years of Chicego life, he frequently was obliged to up- hold the digmity of the ermine by inflicting pun- ishment upon those who .treated, or af- focted to'treat, contomptuously the majesty of the law. Maving deterined to pay-the ex-Justice s call,the reporter set to work to learn his whareabouts, which,aZter painfal and diligent seatch, he discovered to be ‘the front room im- mediately over tho little whisky-shop which liea west of and next to the Union Street Police Sta- tion. , Unfortunately for the reporter, Mr. O’Malley, probably with a view to check tho growth of his practice, -keeps no sign upon his door, and it was only after invading two sets of private rooms, and amply spologizing for his in~ trasion, that e TrmuNE representative struck the office he was seeking, .abd recsived, in an- swor to his knock, a summons to enter. He did 80, and found the ex-Justice deeply engnged in studying the revised statutes, and apparently in anything but-a pleasant framo of mind. .. The ex-Justice had_been all.the morning over at the +iShupayrior Coort,” and 1t was evident that the «Coort ™ had not done exactly what Charley hed wanted it to do. Like all great men, however, Le shook off bis melancholy in an instant, aud exprassed hia willingness to supply the reporter with any news or information the Iatter' might desire and he:miight possess., The following conversation ensued : v # Reporter—AIr. O"Malloy, I believe ‘you aré s lawyer? . Mr. O'Malley—Taiih, Iused to think so meself wance, but the Jah 18 not what it nsed to be, and the practice is changed's0” that now I begin to doubt i1 am a lawser at all; acall, As thepoet very besutifully observes; Ould times is changed, ould manners gane, A shihranger fills 3illoy’s throne. .Of coorse, that’s’ his binch, “you kmow; bub then, binch wonldo’t moke @rhoimme. = - ‘Reparter—How long have you-becn engaged in the practice of thelaw? = “-r. O'pMalley—X ‘have prigiiced the Iawads \ Iaygal profession for foorty year, av which I was for four year meself a Coort. Reporter—Ah, then, you know something abont covtempta of Court ? . Mr. O'Maliey—It's meself that do. - Contimpts init? There wasn't a day that passed but I had to put my fat down on s contimps. Reporter—the lawyers must have paid quite & {arge amount of money as flues in those days en ? - Mr. O'Mfl]%—l niver pushed the boyr harrud, you ’;aa. As the poet very beantifally observes : e quality of mercy is not shthraine 1t droy aa thio blitsed d--rrom'g'xm Tpon 1he place benayth, Itis twoic blissed ; It blesseth him that guva and him that takes— - There was & *‘place benayth " my Coort, you 8ee, in those days, and they had the roignt atuff there, 80 the lawyers I fined for contimpt giner- ally mollifoied the Coort wid a drop of the cra- thur. That was better nor finin’ the boys, and it was & procaydin’ that blissed him that gave and nim'that tak and made thicgs run aisy agin, Reporter—Did you ever fine & person for con- siructive contempt ? . Mr. O'Malley—\Wnat in tho name of goodness is that? Con-sthruct-ivé contimpt! - I niver heerd that before. 1 suppose that is something pta?w inthelaw. Where could I foind out about i Reporter—Over ot the Journal or Times office. What kind of contempts used the lawyers to io- dulge in 1n your Court? y Mr. O'Malley—Sometimes a_person would call & witness a liar while he was giving his testimo- ny. I nivercompromised that undertwo straight whiskies and shugar, one for me and one for the witness. Sometimes one would insinivate that the Coort was leanin’ to one side av the ase. ‘That had to be sittled omtside, afther the Coort ‘had adjourned. Reporter—Would you fine a man for contempt for what he said ontside of the Court ? Alr. O'Malley—Certaioly not. A Coort is not o Coort ucless when it is sated on its binch. ‘What 'ud be the uy finin’ ' man away from Cacrt? Hs wouldn't coms up and stand the— I mean pay the fine. Reporter—I suppose _the people occasionally used to object to your decisions in sush ¢ases a3 somewhat arbil 0 = Mr. O’Malley—Very sildom, but there was ons lawyer slwzys sed to tell an 0ld story about— well, 1 forget the story exactly—but it's some- thing tiat ends with ““this Coort is always and at all places an object of contimpt.” He used to think tbot swfully rough on me, but I always §’o: even with him by remarking that that story ied of oM 8ze before Jae Muler's grandfather was born or thought of. Reporter—Husn, hush, Mr. O'Malley, a very eminent lawyer got that same joke off in' the Btorey contempt care the other day 24 something quite Iresh and original. Can it possibly be so antiquated a8 you !Hn? : Mr..Q"Malley—Whin the City of Chicago is ag old as that ry is mow i will have about 10,000,000 in tants. But what's that you say 2bont a Starey contimpt case? Reporter—I mean the case in which Judge Williams sent the editor of the Times to jail for contempt. E1) . Mr. O'Malley (jumping from his chair)—And id he go to jaal? TReporter—He did. : Afr. O'Mallep—~And is he thera now (putting on his overcost) ? i TReportor—Na, ho got out on a supersedeas. Mr. O'Malley(takiog off his coas)—D—n the surcrsadeas, I'd have give n week's arnings in the Coort next door to sea the ould omadhaun in his cell. What cell washein? Bat, niver mind, thee're goin’ to try him for indacenoy soon, and whin that's through I shall go to see him ivery day. He called moa shyster once, Gnd me thas has bin on the binch. TReporter—Let ma tell you the circumatances of the case, and then I shall be.glad to have yon tell mo what you think'of Judgo Williams’ de- cision. Afr. O’Mallay—Never mind the circumstances. Of coorsa Judge Willisms wasa right. Bat the Judge that _gave tho supersedeas—he made & grave laygal error. "I will not inter onto any ex- planstions, but I tell ye he made s grez: mis- take, and is will cost him his sate sooner or Iater. TATRICK C. FEENEY, who is the glory of the West Side Bar, saidy I think Judge Williamn was abous xighy. That is to say, overybody thinks so nearly. You meet a dozen men in the strect, and théy will tell you it is throngh prejadice or disiike ef Storey, swhich, I don’t know; bwt I think he has been very abusive of the people, nlthongh I am in favor of the preas having great liberty, THE JEALOUS WIEE, Nearly three centuriea ago an extensive por- tion of that part of the commdry which lies on the Wallachian banks of the Danube belonged to Demetri C——, s powerful Boyard, descending from one of the Gresk Princes who had been driven from Constantinople at the fall of the Lower Empire. He was wenithy, generous, and magnificent, the father of d promising sop,— who, at'the period this history relates, was 18 years old,—and the husband of the most beautifal woman in the country. Thyra C—— was looked upon as the Iu:ppiest and most envied of her sex; and ehe nught have justi- fied the general belief, for naturv had endowed her with mental powers no less nimarkable than her peraonal perfections, had it 1ct unfortunate~ 1y happened that, amid the conntless roses with which hér path in lifo had beem strewn, one sharp thorn-had lurked cnd plerzed her. to the heart, rendering her, in the intolepible anguish it occasioned, regardless of the many other blessings which had been showered ‘upon ber. In & word, she was of a suspicious and jealous disposition ; passionately attached to' her hus- band, and, to all appearance, derated to her children, she, nevertheless, lived in constant distrust of him, which his character and 1uanner were too well calcniated to justify, for his gen- eral admiration of beauty» was s mmatter of potortety. And although, from a knowlsdge of his wife's disposition, he had taken such precau- tions in his infidelities towards her that sho had never ye§ been able to detoct him in & Jove in- igue, sho, nevertheless, felt so persunded that he was constantly involved in such purnuits that she became a prey to vagus jealousy, which im- bittered every hour of her existence. At last her suspicions appeared to ind an ob- ject on which to settle. Among her ferr:ale at- tendants was a young and pretty Trapsyi vanian, named Neds, whose superior education had! ren- dered her a favorite with ber lady. All at once the damsel became neglectfal of her datizi, ab- sent in mind; and inattentive to tho wisha3 of her mistress ; when roprimanded by her, atus be- trayed violence and hauteur. . Thyra threatoned to dismiss her from her gervice. The Prince opposed such & measure; ‘and in proportixn as the . displeasure of Lis wife was evinced tosarda the dolinquent, the voice ana manner of her iuas- ‘band softened in her favor. This was more thaa sufficient to drs the -sus- picions of the Princess. Eagerto ascertain thie reality of that which she dreaded, and resolved to rush upon knowledge that would break ber ‘heart, she forgot her dignity.so much as to plsy” the eaves-dropper and spy over her af 1k, for some timo without any regult. Ond day, however, when tha young girl had been sent fur' by her, and had neglected to attend-the sum- mons, Thyra treacherously crepé up s back way to ber menial's chamber, or room door, and noiselessly stationing herself outside of it listened o what was passing withio. A murmar of voices in the room couvicced her that Neds was not alone, and almost immediately thas of the snspected dsmsel broke npon Ler ear ‘in ac- | cents the puxport of which could not be mis- taken. " = _«Leave me,” she said, * for heaven's. sake, leave me! If my mistress were to know of your being here, I'should be'lost forever. Al- Teady she Euspects aod watches me, and I live in adaily._terror of her discoveriog & love whick would draw upon me her oterpal enmity. Go, Prince—go, Demetri! This evening 50 soon A% itig dark, L will contrive to steal cut to tha foun- tain in the sycamore grove—meet me thire at 8—gour pretext of sbsenting yourself from home will preveat the Princess from suspecting that we—" - . Here the vaice became {fainter, 88 the épeaking moved toward an opposite door; the footstepa of a man were plainiy to be distin- uished moving. in the same direction. Thyra conld hear no more—ahe stramed the eyes to tha crevice of the dvor at which she was stattoned, bat saw nothiog. Her :enxt OV;rflovrmg with tumunitaons passions, she was for a moment tempted to burst open the door, and confound the guilty ono who hed presumed to rival her in her husband’s Jove ; but listening again ahs felt ‘assured that the room was' empty, and & mo- ‘ment’s reflection showed her that, by a few honrs’ delay, she might render her vengeanca moye sig- nal and complete. Ehe, therefore, returned in the same stealthy manner. to. her spartments, ghut hersolf, up, and took measures accordingly. ‘Her determination was to preveut the poasi- bility of Neds quitting the house, and then to disguise herself in the dreas of a sezving Gamsel, and to personato the perfidious attandant at the rendezsous ¢ the Bycamare grove, which she heard arranged by her. These meditations wers 1nterrupted by & message. from the Prince, ap- prising ber that he should be absent from homa thie remainder of 'the day, and should ‘g:mmg not retarn untit iate that night : anf mes- sago, all the additionsl proof of tha calealating treachery which her faithless husband serupl not to exerciee toward har, was the last arop that overflowed the cup. The exasperstion of her outraged feeh:gu knewnobonnds ; and she remained in_solituds in her avartment, that no ‘member of the family might notice her agitation. Au hour before sunset Neds was summoned toher lady’s presence, and recaived =z order to remain near her and complete some embroidery, with which she herself had been cceapied. Not daring to disobey, and hoping to finish her task before the hour of sppointment with her lover had arrived, tho young girl e2t down to her work with unwonted alacrity. The room in which they were was an upper chamber, and formed the Inst of a spacious suite, having no entrance bat the one which preceded it. Not loog after Neds was seated at her embroidery frame, the Princess arose and quitted tho reom, locked the door of it, and leaving, her sttendant & close prisoner thers, with no “possibility of egross until sho hersalf shonid releasa Liar, sho proceeded to Neda's chamber, whero she solect- ed a snit of her clothes, hastened to disgiise herself in them, snd, throwing a voil over her head, quitted the ‘honse, and directed her steps towards the trysting-place. It was lats in the autumn; tho days wero shortening visibly, the evenings were cold and gloomy, night closed in immediately after sun- set, and there was no moon to illumine the dall, gray sky. Thyra was tho arstto arrive at iha zendezvous ; and, under the influence of never~ slumberiog suspicion, she fancied, when she found herself there alons, that her scheming had been discovered, and her hasband would de~ feat her plan of vengeance by not apnearing: but s fow moments snfficed to undcceive hor. A quick, light step approached. What esgerness 'was in that tread, and how indignantly did ker hezrt throb as she listened toit. ‘The obscurity was 8o complete that she could not even discern tha outline of the person whe drew rear; bus tne perfomo of ambergris, with which her "hus- band's hair and garments were siways impreg- nated, floated upon the air, and a low, counter- feited voice breathed forth the words: ** Hist ! MNeda ; are you here, love” diracted har toward - Bho strotched forth ber hand, with 8 winsper- ed, *Yes,” and grasped something which shn recognized as the embroidered pattan worn™ by the beads of the Princely hounse of C—-. . In the pext moment the arms of the impationt Iover were thrown arcund ber, aud she was drawn to- wards him in » passionate embrace.. . Transpori- ed to fury by the tonder endearment, which sha Imew was not intended for hersel?, bat for oo un- worthy rival, and breathing only. the deadliest vengeanca for Ler wrongs, the outraged wifo thrast hor h:ndd' into hiar hnic;gmx;' d.rle“\v ‘thence a poij and, reising it on plunged itinto the faithless hemt beat against iar own. The blow was deait with such unerring aim that the victim could only uiter an indistinct ory, and, relsxing the grasp with which Le held her 8o closely embraced, fell heavilyto the ground, Thyra drew her breath and listored a moment; & gurgling noise in the throat of the murdered man was all that sho could distingmsh. Then followed 2 death-like silonce. Tarror and remorso suddenly overcame her for the deed, which, in a moment of frenzied excitement, ska had perpetratod, and, turning hastily frozm tha fatal spot, she rushed toward her home. The first object that met her eye whon she 0+ tered the house was her hnsband! There ha stood unharmed, surrounded by his attendents, and in his riding-dress, just as ho had alighted from his horae, and & tranquil smile upon his lips a8 he inquired whether the Princess was ia ber apartment, . *tYou here?” she shrieked, running up to him. 1 have not Lilled vou, then. Thank heaves, i have not killed you!" and sho feil gosping ot bhis feet. = “The Princess!” ejscaiated ber husband, bo- wildered at the signt of her disguise, and her violent emotion; and, raisig her from the d, * What means this frenzy, and why are you 50 strangely diszuised? " . Baut she answered him not. With her diatanded eyes wildly fixed upon him, she passed her hands repeatedly over his bosom, and muttered to her- gell, “No poniard, no wound ! and yet I struch him there, and felt his hot blood gush forth apon my hand. Ah! mee,” she continued, shud- dering, *there it is1™ and, bolding up ber band a8 she spoke, the crimson drops that stained it attested the truth of some fearful decd being connected with her mvatorious self-acensation. «Thyrs, dearest- love,” aid the Boyard, in soothing accents, *‘somethiog bas terrified bt you are eafe now—I am here £5 protect yo Tell'me, what iz the meaning of ibis sgitation? What is the meaniog of this blood? ¥ “+You, Neds ?—the sypamore grove! ” shoe nt tered in broken cries. ‘“Were you no: there, now—just now to meet her?” un’.rha ‘Prince shook his head in silent consterna~ . “\Whom have I murdered, then?” barst fram the lips of the unhappy woman, with a thrilling shriels; and, startmg from her husband’s sup- port, ahe fled with the speed of s wanias toward the ’.flt.“ spot from which she had reccently ro- tarn ™ o The Prince and his attendants quickly follow- ed ber, some of them bearing lizhted torches, but such was the speed which tha frenzied state of her feelings lont to her movements' that they only overtook her at. the moment of her seach- ing the fountain. Thers sha suddenl7 stopped, 2 though rooted to the spot, and, shuddering, pointed to the ground. ' Tho Princé ad- vanced ' hastily to her side. His attsndants mllone% and, raising their torches, diacoy- ered at the margin of the fountain the body of a man extended on_his back and woltoring in hia blood. Ths ghastly face was turoed upward. and as the glare .of the torches feil upon it an exclamation of horror feli from the lips of all present, nnd Thyrs, leaning forward, recognized her victim with a thrill of agony which .cansed all the Elood ta chill in her veins and her pulse fo stand still. At that one glance the whole truth flashed mpon her with terrible clearness, until she compre- hended, when too late, the fafal error into which her blind and mistaken suspiclons had plunged her. There lay her son, her only ehild, her beloved Demetri, bathed in tho blocd thak welled forth from the death-wounds her mur- derous hand had inflicted. He it was, then, whose boyish passion had been reciprocated by her young attendant ; ho it was for whom Nada devised the love meeting which that morning changed her own jealous fears into dreadful cersainties.” He'it was, O! God. ‘upon whom her imaginary wrungs had, just beea 8o barbarously avenged! The similarity of names, of dress, hdd deceived her. Why had e not thought.of this before? Why?. Does smspicion ever pause 1o reason or reflect? not jealousy blind 4s loye (whose dark shadow it is said to be ?) All this passed.throagh her mind with the rapidity of lightuung, as tha one awful glance revealed to her the extont of hex crime. No words escaped her iips, but, as if struck by a thunderbolt, she fell heavily forward by the side of the beloved son whoas life had fallon a eacrifice tc the rash and ungovernabls suspicions of the jealous wife. -first use that Thyra mads of her return- ing faculties was to cast hersell atthe feeiof hor hasband, and make a fall confession of tho feelings which had driven her to commit so -desperate a deed, imploring doath s his hand in expiation of her crime. Bus death, whicnh would have terminated her earthly torments, was boon which the exasperated_husband was re- solved mot to grant ber. * Woman,” said hs, “you shall live to dis a thoussnd deaths every day. Yousball live tocurse the dey on which you wére born.~ You'shall live to expiate, in lin- gering torments of mind, the misary you have intlicted on me.” And, inflexible in his determination, he caused ‘his unfortunats wife to be conveyed to the Rockx of Babake, where, in » rudely conatructed stons chamber, she was condemued to drag oub a mis~ erable existeoce, Without being suffered to ex- change a word with any human being, and with ng companionship save her oam wretched thoughts. Her senses failed under her severs punishment ; but madness, instezd of bringi':g oblivion to her wods, seemed to have impari pew sctivity to her faculties of suffcrng. Every evening 8a darkness covered the earth, tho poor manisc fancisd hirself sgain an actor in the dresdful scenes which etuined hersoul vith tho foul gnilt cf muraer ; aml the frenzied shrieka she uttered doring the night were heard from afar, waking the echoes :f“ ::hx“ dieoary solitude until daylight brought it & temporary cassation of her ies in the calm of exkaustion. — Owe day, at last, whea hex attendant who dsily ‘brought her supplies of food entersd her prison, she had dissppeared. Every part of the rock was gearched, but no vestige of her was to bo foundd, nor could any trace of her be discovered to account for her mysterious evanishment.-— Cincinnali Times. = . A French Story. ' All_the peoplo in'a Paris house werae etartlad one pight by a tremedons nolse made in an wpper. spart ment. Rashing to the dours they saw ¢ 'man coming down four steps at a time. Ho wai arrested, half dead with fear. Ho wasa thicf, bad niade his.way in with a false ey, and; feel ing s way about tho apartments from room t¢ room %o fing valuables, had coms-upon some strangn, soft, movable, upright thing in the middle of a room. He felt of it, passed hiz hand higher and higher, and _felt s.{ace, cold as ico, Firightened, eager to escape, he conid nol find his way to the door, and in bis flight apsel every ariicle of furnituro in. the spariment. ‘Enen they all want up-stairs, and found tha tea~ an? of the fourth floor bangad in his room.