Evening Star Newspaper, January 22, 1876, Page 2

PARSON KELLY, Parson Kelly's fair young wife Irene Died when but three months wed, And no new love has ever come between ‘His true heart and the dead, bh now for sixty years the grass has grown Tr her grave, and on its simple stone moss And yellow lichens creep her name across. Outside the door, in the warm summer air, The old man sits for hours. : The idle wind, that stirs bis silver hair, Is sweet with June's first flowers; Bat dull bis mind, and clouded with the haze ye last weary, gray November days; And dim ‘The past and present look alike to him. sunn; ‘The sunny scene around, confused and The twitter of the binds, Biend in nis mind with’ voices long since heard— Gilad childhood’s careless words, Old b; ~ and Seriptare texts; while indis- ine’ ‘Yet strong, one thought with all fair things is Hoked— Z bride Of lis lost youth is ever by his side. By its sweet weight of snowy blossoms bowed, The rose-tree branch bangs low, And in the sunshine, like a fleecy cloud, Sways slowly to and fro. “Oa, is it you?” the old man asked; “Irene!"* And smiles, and fancies that her’ face he’ seen Beneath The opening roses of a bridal wreath ! Dew, tons the gambrel roof a white dove The sunshine on its wings, And lightiug close to where the dreamer sits, A vision with it brings— Agolden gleam from some long vanished ay. he calls; then, “Why will you tay?” He sighs. For, at his voice, the bird looks up and files! Ob, constant heart! whose failing thoughts cling fast To oe long laid tn dust, Still seeing, turued to thine, as in the past, Her look of perfect trust, +oft voice bearing in the south wind’s breath, Dream ou! Love pure as thine shall outlive death, the sates : Id, t thi i @ cates unfold, her eyes meet née again. (Marion las, in the Galaxy for February. swe0e- SUSAN’S MISTAKE. Among all the trim housemaids in Blooms- pay. not one could compare with Sasan Biffin, who had the privilege ot being a ser- Vitor in the mansion of Mr. Jobbins, alder- _= and tallow-chandler of the city of Lon- jon. Not only did Susan excel in the neatness Of ber dress and the cheerfalness with which she — herduties, but she also carried Off the palm with respect to personal ap- pearance, as would have been admitted by any one who observed her t.og mouth, ruddy cheeks, bright, full black eyes, and the —. smile which constantly shed Mght over her features and helped to en- hance the charms with which nature had en- dowed her. Susan Bifin was an extremely well-con- dueted girl. and knew more than most peo- ple in her station of life, inasmuch as her pa- rents (now dead) had been respecta le trades- folk, who in the latter portion of their life had len into diMealties, bat had taken care that, despite the wrecking of their Worldly prospects, the education of their only child should not be lected. Thus much for Susan’s advantages; now Jet us look at the reverse of the me ial. Tne pretty housemaid’s chief fault was that she ‘was in love—and desperately, too—a circum- Stance whieh of course calied forth the se- Yerest censure from her mistress, who, to ber credit. be it said, took an interest ia her servants not often manifested by people of Such rank as the wife of this city magnate. an had four Dngie p riageable years upon years ago—aad who as yet never had the ghost ‘ofan one. Now, of course, it would have been a commendable thing hac! these vestals failen In love, and set their foot firmly on the road which leads to Hymen’s temple, but with a young servant getat twenty it was a very diiferent matter. Mrs. Jobbins took the affair up warmly, ag did also the vestals alluded to, and persist- ently Informed Susan that ifshe kaew when she was well off she would remain single, | &c.; in fact, if possivle, the young ladies ex- & greater horror of matrimony than even their mamma,and went about the house declaiming against the perfidy of mankind in terms that would have fully qualified them to become shining lights inany society of female celibates, although as cook senten- ously remarked In the sacred precincts of the kitchen, “If their ma hadn't married Mr. Jobbins, where on earth would they have perbaps, if their ma had From this been? A good job, remained single.* quite so well liked “down-stairs” as thelr maternal parent. Perhaps, however, the great reason for Mrs. Jobbins’s dis! to Susan’s courtship was that the pretty housemaid had fixed her af- fections upon what Mrs. J. termed a “thea- = 5 Sat whet Sane always spoke ofas a lequin. ‘The intimacy between Susan and her be- trothed was still young, baton one side, at least, it seemed as though it had existed years, inasmuch as Susan was a tender, Sympathetic creature; and when Herr Kid- dini fell w bis knees at the house of a mu- tual friend, and, with upliftel arms, begged her to be “his,” she at once yielded him all the affection her fresh young heart was ca- pable of bestowing. The harlequin, however, was not Susan’s first sweetheart. Such a neat, tty girl could not fall to have plenty of admirers ——s the sons of the small tradesmen resi- dent in the neighborhood. The time had when Susan had almost determined upon becoming the wife of an enterprising | young grocer named Perks, who had recently opened a business of his own aud was said to be thriving. Susan really led Perks. but the roseate hues of courtship were darkened by some | trumpery lovers’ quarrel, and as Susan said Perks was in the wrong, and Perks declared that Susan was entirely at fault, the affuir resulted in a parting. Neither would give Way, and neither would to the medi- ation of @ third party; so Susan at once re- turned all the little love-gifts which Perks had lavished upon ber. The jealous you gocews ting words ‘Were t he she would not make a | mistake, and that he felt she would repent of her conduct to him; to which Sasan disdain- fully tossed her bead and turned away. Thus ended one love episode in the pretty house- zoaid’s life. Herr Kiddini was, as Susan had stated, a harlequin at Christmastide, and a teacher of dancing and calisthenics throughout the remainder of the y« Our heroine met him first at the abode of a marriel| friend, who once been @ fellow-servaut in the Job- bins mansion, and that — of curiosity which seems to be excited by all who are in any way occupied before the footlights in- vested Herr Kiddini with an importance he Would otherwise not have sed. He Was decideily not a good looking man—his es ey: ere Sunken and fringel with thick Jashes, and a slight moustache failed to hide the sinister expression of nis mouth. But the fact of his being “on the stage” blinded Susan and Susan's friends to everything else. Here they were at tea with the gentle- man who to-morrow night would appear be- fore @ crowded audience in @ Ught-fitting dress covered with spangies, the grace of whose dances elicited such applause, who bore the wand which turned everything into Something totally different, and who ey through shop-windows with an agility that Was vainly emulated by wn and panta- loon. Herr Kiddini was a moody man not given to muenh conversation; he had Sense enough to perceive that something was expecte! of him after the numerous slices of bread and batter and sundry caps of wa that bad passed down his capacious throat, so he invented a few stories relative to his career, | ee taking care that he should appear in Most favorable of lights; and ere the evening had closed he had so far succeeded part. ity had not shed its goliien mupcepenae aaeeren ‘nnd there was fe. Plenty of “paper” to be bad, so that whon Susan and cook took their seats in the stiffy upper boxes and looked around th they Were not so disconcerted as might e been the case if money and not ‘orders’ yailed. The pantomime was rst that evening. so that the girls were not kept long upon the tender-hooks of expectancy. The “opening” seemed rather long; but there is an end to everything, and at length the lamps were lowered for the “carpenter's: scene,” which was to usher in the glories of the transformation. usual bevy of fair- the ction Banas of ipeitie Bower 8 ud of im) le flowers, and the usual combinat Of colored fires. Then Kiddint in bis op mpage harlequin dress bounded upon the stage, the very per- fection of _= and agility—at least so whispered Susan to cook, who nodded Sflirmatively—and throughoat the rest of the riormance he was to them the only object Of interest. The merry sallies of ths clown, the senile observations of the pantaloon, the feats of the apparently boneless sprites, the red-hot poker, and the spirited “raliy," were in their eyes mere adjuncts to thy dancing of Kiddini, and only gone through in order that he might have au Interval of rest. Su- san envied the active young person who ap- 4s columbine, and began to think dancing with Herr Kiddini must be the greatest pleasure life could afford. Bat jast when the “comte businesa” seemed ai its height the green baize dropped upon @ tab- leau of which their hero, supporting the co- lumbine on bis knee with one hand, was the Principal figure, and the pantomine was at an en Cook had barely time tocomment npon the “loveliness” of the performance when Susan felt @ gentle tap upon ber shoulder, and, looking rouad ,r nized the friend by whom she bad been tntroduced to Ktddini. “You ain't going for to stop for the drama, areyou? Kiddint satd he'd sent you a or.ler, and he gave me one too. "Liza {the speake wife) is outside the boxes, and we're off, L cause Kiddini said he'd come round and have # bit of supper with us. You'd better come 00.” began to compare opinions. The friend's house was down a mews, within a stone's throw of their master’s, and as perhaps (as Susan suggested) the drama might turn out to be a stupid thing, they decided to leave | macre gloomy tones, the theatre with their friend. Tue chief in- ducement with botn Susan and cook, how- ever. was that there was @ probability of Kiddini partaking of supper with them. Their ho; in this respect were not disap- - ited. reat man arrived at their riend’s house almost as soon as they did,and made a very hearty supper, aud was more agreeable and talkative than usual. As if py @ preconcerted movement Susan suddenly found herself alone with the harlequin, and ere ber friends re-entered the room she had become berg oy ail to him, and had promised to become his bride in the following July, six months hence. How long Kiddint took to declare his pas- sion is @ moot point. Susan declared they Were not alone more than five minutes, and that Otto's confession burst upon her like a bombshell; but cook averred that the ar- mr “pied took more than halfan hour to le. That night Kiddini saw thegirls home, and the sharp ears of cook deteete.] the sound of a kiss while she was descending the area- steps, leaving Susan to follow. After this occasion more “orders” came, @nd Susan found frequent opportunity of meeting her Otto, whom, as she confiden- tially informed the trusty cook, ‘‘she loved more and more every time she saw him;” at which sympathizing cook would give an approving smile, and remark, ‘Very natural my dear.” Susan’s conscience occasionally smote her when she recalled her behavior to young Perks, the grocer, who, cook sald, “felt her conduet much, and was reduced to a skelin- ton; for the little quarrel which had sep- arated them had really originated witb her, and though all was over between them, and She was engaged to another, she could not bear to think that shehad caused him any suffering. She often fancied she would have liked to go round to his shop and confess her- self in the wrong, but after consultation with cook she came to the *onclusion that such @ course of proceediig pight inspire hopes:n the young man’s breast which could never be fulfilled; so she resolved that mat- ters should remain as they were. Susan was of @ sensitivenature, and when the remark that bad been made by cook relative to the manner in which young Perks was “falling away” recurred to her memory, it was with «lifieulty she could restrain the tears that dimmed the lustre of her black eyes. She tried to think that a “professional” of the rank of a harlequin wasa much better match than @ small grocer, who had tostand behind his counter from eight in the morning until ten oreleven o'clock at night, with scarcely opportunity to have @ comfortabie meal daring any portion of the day. Besides, as cook said. Kiddioi was a gentleman, as any one could see, and with bis aristocratic bear- ing and white hands, on one of which a mas- sive ring shone forges rere was a fit mateh evenfor one of their young ladies — alluding to the Misses Jobbins, who, perhaps, would bot have felt flattered by the allasion; ‘still, on the other hand —_ hariequin’s other band), there is a time in the life ofa spinster when it seems as though she would be willing to marry any one, and it must be this critical period was nigh at band witb the alderman’s laughters. During the = of their courtship | Kiddini was not ymoxt attentive of lovers, | and when taunted therewith — that his | arduous exertions at night rendered him al- most unfit for society. However, when he | heard from their mutual friend's wife in tbe mews that he really must pay more at- tention to the pretty housemaid or she would rebel, and when her betrothed ina confiding moment showed hira her savings-bank book, in which she was credited with the possession of $40, Herr Kiddint’s affection received an impetus, he became as ardent as could be wished. After the run of th tomime his time was more bis own, and, as he in- formed Susan, excepting the instruction of = few daily pupils, he had really nothing to 0. The stunted herbage of the square was be- gining to give signs of vitality, the trees had already put forth their foliage, and troops of giggling nurse-girls with their infantine charges were to be seen Perambalating the gravelied walks, when Kiddini one evening, sitting alone with Susan in the little house down the mews, moodily remarked that the time was approaching When they were to se K the bymeneal altar. Of course Susan bloshed and said nothing, which was St correct and proper. Then Kiddini, in still said that he had had ra- thera bad spring, inasmuch as some of his pepils had taken their departure from bis lerpsichorean academy without paying for the lessons they hat received, ond that, in stort, be had not the wherewithal to provide a home. This somewhat disconcerted Susan, and quite unbidden there arose in her mind the image of the young grocer and his prosperous business; but Kiddini, who now became warm on the subject, suggested that if Susan would lend him £20 out of her little fandin the savings bank he would at once provide a bome,and they would be married in a month. inj had no doubts at all about the fu- ‘e; he had had an exceptionally bad spring, but the autumn might prove quite the re- | The girls ldoked at each other, and then la | In lawful wedlock. verse. This communication di! not put Su- sanina very hopefal mood; but sae had pledged herself to Kiddini, and *twas only right, she thought, that sheshould assist him im hisadversity. She was not long making up her mind; and Kiddini, who hal had in- finitely less trouble over the matter than he imagibed he would have, received the grati- fying intelligence that Susan would at once give notice of the withdrawal of £20 from the | savings bank, and that the money should be in his hands in a fortnight’s time. Never had Kiddin! manifested so much af- fection for bis betrothed as on that evening; he was the most attentive, the most ardent of lovers, and poor Susan aimost felt inclined heart means honorably he'll marry you with- out wanting to borrow Your savings, and as ‘ou are on the right side keep so, Susan. a ow ona Work Like @ god girly Bod perhaps Phe ime will come when you'll thank me for not lett ‘oahave the money until @fier you're nf Susan curtsied submissively and left the t as well at- room, for she knew one mi, tempt tolift the monument as tura Mrs. Jobbins when she had once made up her mind. Rebellious cook said it wasa great shame, and she'd take good care no one was ever trustee for her; and Kiddini, as may be imagined, became frightfally moros: “Rut there the matier stood, and not all the re- marks of cook, the anxiety of Sasa a, or the sullen temper of Kiddiai could altes it, “I've @ couple of pounds by me,” growled Kiddini,‘ aad with that I must put up the banns and live meantime. Suppose we say this day month—will that do?” Susan blushed, and on the principle that Silence gives consent, Kiddini stalked away with the uaderstanding that he was to put u the banns and claim the pretty housemai as bis bride on the day signified. It was in no amiabie spirit Kiddini sought his lod- gitgs ina street off Drury lane; and if the alderman’s wife could have heard what he muttered relative to her welfare as ne a through the crowded courts and alleys she would have beea more opposed to the mar- riage than ever. Oa, what an anxious period was the four weeks prior to the day when Susan was to become a wife! The pretty housemaid was an expert needle-woman, and, like au econo- mic creature as she was, made the wed ling dress Lerself—a slate-colored silk with spots, something that would prove usefuion a fa- tare day, and which had been presented her by the Misses Jo bbins, who, despite the fact thattt wasonly one of their servants who Was about to be married, took a wonderful interest in all that was going on, and spent @ good deal more time in the kite than cook desired. Then there was Mrs. Jobbi fall of wise counsel and cautious as to tl pitfalls of matrimonial life. Every one in Lhe house thought it their duty in some way to interfere in the marriage preparations. At last came the eventful morn, and Kid- ini, leaping from his couch and peering through the slip of blind which adorned the dirty window of bis lodging, observed with no feelings of delight that tbe rain was de- seending in torrents. “Humph!" he growled; “obliged to have cabs now, I suppose.” Involuntarily his hand sought his trousers- ket, and then, finding that the sum of ve-and-sixpence was contained therein, he began to maze his twoilet It certainly was a depressing morning—the boughs of the trees in the square drooped in the wet, the rain pattered steadily upon the pavement, and @ warm close atmosphere in- creased the general gloom and dejection. Susan was to be married from the house in the mews, where her intimacy with Kid- dini had begun; and wishing Mrs. Job- bins and her daughters farewell, with tears in her eyes she started for her friend’s house the night prior to the bridal. Cook, of course, was tobe principal bridesmaid, and insisted that none but berself should arrange the slate-colored silk, lace shawl (a parting present from Susan's late mistress), and white tulle bonnet. Nine, ten, cleven o'clock, and still the rain descended as steadily as ever. Poor girl, it was nota very pleasing commencement of her wifely career, but cook succeeded in eradicating ali traces of her emotion just as the bridegroom with three caps rattled up to the door. On their way to the parish church they were compelled to pass the shop of the re- jected Perks, and Susan could not refrain trom turning her eyes in that direction. She noticed that the sliop was full of customers, and—yes, there was her former betrothed with black apron tied tightly round his waist, darting about his premises as busy as @ bee in his efforts not keep his custo- mers waiting. “He seems to be doing well; the shop 1s — remarked Susan to her chief brides- maid. “People say he's got the best business in the streei,’’ responded the cook. Susan breathed a sigh, and wondered after all whether she had taken sufficieat notice of Perks’s caution, and had indeed made a mis- take—whether @ penniless dancing-master 5 grees Superior to @ prosper- she hal not much time for rev- erie, as In @ moment the cabs dashed up to the chureh door, and Susan had to run the gauntlet of a line of admiring women and children, who, despite the drizzling rain*had gathered to witness the marriage cortege, The bride shivered as she got out of the ve- hicle, and without waiting for her lover's arm hurried out of the damp air into the church. Expecting that Kiddini would im- mediately follow, Susan becor somewhat surprised when five minutes sed and he had not made his appearance; still more as- tonished was she when, going to the church portal to see what detained him, she ob- served her betrothed tightly clasped by a gaunt, wretched-looking woman, and tive | olga children banging on to his arms, eg8, cOat-talls, and other positions of his clothes capable of seizure. «What—what is the meaning of this?” in- quired Susan, ner eyes flashing with indigna- on. Not a word escaped Kiddini, who, with pallid face, remained perfectly’ helpless in the ia of those who had taken possession of bim. “Kiddini,” exclaimed the bride, “why don’t you speak?” By this time the women and children had dragged the bridegroom into the church, and the doors bad been closed upon the rabble at- tracted by the disturbance outside. When the woman knew that her prisoner could not escape she release1 her hold, and turning to the indignant Sasan, sald: “Begging your pardon, miss, this is my husband, and these are our five children born He deserted me and the little ones two years ago at Manchester, and since then I’ve been roaming about in search of him, and if it hadn’t been for the rain this blessed morning, which made me take shel- ter nrrepernaes Ishouldn’t have found him tall. Hisname’s Tom Kidd, and not Kid- dint, as you call him. Oh, miss, you’ve had & lucky eseape!” All the time the woman had been speak- ing her five childrea hat not in the slightest degree relaxed their hold unon their lone lust father, but clung to him with a perti- baelty that made the ep rgeos ape are seek @ pillar for support. As for poor Susan, the words seemed fo sear into her brain; but to doubt what she had heart was impossible when she glanced at the helpless harlequin and saw his wretched plight. “Take me home, cook—take me home,” she said, resigning herself to her faithful friend! then entering one of the cabs which had awaited the conclusion of the projected marriage, she fell into a swoon. When she got back to the little house down the mews it transpired that her friends knew = any more of Kiddini than did Susan herself; they bad met bim at the abode of an acquaintance, and, on the strength of a vague intimation that at any time they would be glad to see him whenever he passed that way, he had become a constant visitor to the house tor some weeks prior to his meet- a> | with Susan’ n overwhelming sense of the narrow es- cape she had had so preyed upon the mfad of oar heroine that @ severe illness followed; but the Jobbinses—kind-hearted people as they were—insisted upon her being removed back to their house, where the skill of the family doctor and the tender nursing of cook soon restored Susan to health. ile she was ill there was daily inquiry made at the area-gate by Mr. Perks’s shop-boy relative to the Invalid’s progress; @ud at last, when the roses again began to Sppear on her cheeks, Mr. Perks himself called. He blushed deeply when he encountered the gaze of cook, pleaded that he had given his boy a holiday; bat cook was a little bit too experienced to be decelved by such an excuse as that. She asked Mr. Perks if he would not step into the kitchen to rest himself just for a few minutes, at which the grocer hesitated; but after @ desperate effort he followed his friend ‘own the area-steps. He not ¢ tocry witn happiness. She was an affec- | to see Susan, or of course he would nol have tonate creature, grateful for every word of | come down into the Kitchen; but when he tenderness, and thedevotion now manifested by her future husband seemed to her full of | wasted form envelo} the pleasantestauguries. ‘Poor fellow,” she sald to cook on returning to her master's residence, “Iam certain he loves me, and Were It twice the amount he should have it.” In the momentary arrangement, however, @ | must see about them without slight bitch occurred, inasmuch as Susan forgotten that when she entered Alder- man Jobbins’s service that bad introduced her to the savings she made her first depcsit, In wi = the good-will of Sasan and her sien: ak (who accompanied her), that i was the principal sabject of @onversation between them throughout the How creat was the astonishment of both ‘when. & few dave after, a tham)-stained let- ter arrived for Miss Biffin, ——- an “order” tortwo for the upper boxes the theatre at which Kiddini was engaged, and & greasy nalf-sheet of note-paper, with the Words “Otto Kiddini’s compts,” scrawled thereon! receipt of this courtesy de- manded that Susan should, with cook’s as- sistance, concoct a letter of thaiks to the great terpsichorean artist. The letter took some time to write, » a3 the cook re- marked. it wouldn't “do to be too for'ant or Yettoodistant.” However, at last the happy medium was arrived at, and with many blushes sui her countenance Susan de- s via the post-office her first com- munication to Herr Kiddini. thing bins that might spend the evenl — Decuave “Ganka Grciacel ane and the latter for herself and & a same ing. Mrs. J.’s consent was won, Snd in tue brightest of bonnets and warilest ris it to see the care to have her own name inserted as trus- her domes! consent, ver! bankbook, and looked ad- the £40 with which she was credited. some reason or other, for which Susan herself would ao ig found it worthy’s wife bene when he wanted to but had taken | ‘bal Susan's recollection uati! | and Per! was fairly inside the door, and saw her in warm shawls be- fore the fire, he could not retreat with dig- nity without speaking. Just at that mo- ment cook remembered that there were some fowls to be dressed for dinner, and that she delay; 80 giv- Perks & ory 4 gtlp of the hand, and him that he knew his way out > £0; this artful cook beat retreat, and, closing the door behind ont the he very awe ward, and in their inter- ing Mr. ini her, le! e. The tome of the weather is soon exhausted "s delicacy would not allow him to converse much about Susan’s illness, ing the causes that had led to it. So silently looking into the fire until with ber face suffused with bit “Ihave fora lon ‘ing a mis take. .disdained yeur advice; hi little, «you w med me once against mak 1 was & foolish girl then an! ait heen wise [ should have heeded your Wordgy@or taey have proved only too true.” s “But,” Mr. Perks, “mistakes ma; be corrected, and it 1s never too late to mand, Let us suppose the past eighteen moaths hav in @ dream. In short, Susan, let us be to each other as we wera once. My heart beats as warmly asever for you. Wiil it be me long, do you think, to ragain your ver” A smile of happiness passed over Susan's j noe she held ean her haud; and as he eagerly really seemed as though the past bad been ‘a reson far eve nee Kiddini’s influence was strongest upoa her there had always been @ lingering thought of Tom Perks in her memory; aud no ¥ that be was again by her side she ex: enced & sense of peace to which she had long been a st How it was the story toldin Mr. Jobbint Kitchen that autumn morning! And ‘twas an old tale. Bat whether whispered under shady trees, in drawing- room, attic, or cellar, it has the same inter- est f yore, and until time itself shall cease, will remain ever fresh and dear. The following year, when spring was lap- sing into summer, another wedding-party | set out for the parish church; and this time there was no interruption to the service nor opposition on the t of Mrs. Jobbius and her daughters, who persistently expressed | the opinion that in marrying Mr. Perks S.- | san had indeed acted wisely. Tue £4 in the savings bank was not required, and in that secure depository the money remained for many & year afterwards. As for Kiddini he is about the country pur- suing his profession, but Susan has never | seen him since the memorable ovcasinn at | the chureh-poreh, and save at Christmas time, when her husband—how the owner of three grocery establishments in the mieteopo: lis—tawes hérseif and the childrea to see a Sa, her thoughts never revert vw narlequins Or their associations. Amid her prosperity Susan does not forget her old acquaintances, and there is always a hearty welcome for cook whenever she likes | to call. Susan’s sympathetic heart often | bleeds for her friend, who has married a house painter, earning in his best times | twenty eight shillings per week, aud who is | given to spending his wages in drink, ant | then !ll-treating his wife. Perhaps the time | is shorily at hand when cook will leave her | husband, and take up her abode permanently with the Perkses. Thus Susan after nearly committing an act which would have wreckel her future, has become transformed from the trimmest housemaid to the happiest wife in the dis- trict of Bloomsbury.—| Belgravia Annual. —__—_—_see-—__ Mothers and Children. THE LOST HAIR-PIN. (Madge Eltiot in Baldwin's Monthiy.) it was in busy, dirty New-York street, leading to a ferry, that the hair pin dropped, jailing from the golden braida pretty, fair girl wore, at the back of her pretiy, fair head. Ob!” sald the ha! in, as she touch- ed the pavement, and ‘ again, as she looked around her—a piece of orange-peel lay one side, an everripe peach on the other and dirt was everywhere. ‘What shall I eo?” said the poor thing, but she slipped and fell down again, and the overripe peach laughed at her. Se hat bod you baie ae y?* sees an Pea shee, ng over the- side of the gutter wherehe faye s “I want to go home—oh! I want to go home,” said the hair-pin. « Where is your home?” asked the shoe. “In a dainty box,” answered the hair-pin, “where my sisters algo live, aud our dear friend, the golden-braid—that 1s, we live there nights—but, in the day-time we are all carried about on the head ofour young mis- 'ress, and have the jolliest times, seeing and bearing everything. Have, did I say? Alas! it's had for me. And now, if they and the c logne-bottle ann powderpuff, our near neigh- bors, could only see me, how sorry they would all be!—left to perish tn a dirty, noisy street, with orange-peel, banana-skins, ove: tipe peaches and old shoes. I, who have a! ways beén so sweet'aud clean _the rose-per- ante of my lady’s braid is inging to me “You're not very backwardin expressing your feelings,”” said the overrips peach. “Don’t you suppose the companions you have fallen among have any? And do you imagine that you alone have seen better days? Think ofme. I grew on a spieadid tree in a fine beripenngos go rass below me, blue sky aboveme, and the fragrance of the clover to delight me, There I turaed from a sweet little bud to a pretty blossom, from a | pretty blossom to @ delicious peach, and now behold me!—taken from my beloved tree, brought to a crowded market, so burt eo paneer coogh sayin that I am at jast declared « lor notuing,’ aod funy, away, like an old shoo ne . “Hey?” said the shue, Standing up on its heel. “Like an old shoe, indeed! ‘That was well said, peach. Listen, and you shall | hear my story, and leara thatagutter was not always my resting place—far from it. Whea first I remember myself, I and my twin brother stood side by side In the ele- gant wiadow of a Broadway store, in com- pany with man: oy gon ay and graceful gaiters. And a merry life we led sooking out, day after day,on the gay an fashiouable crowd that was forever passing by. Then a handsomeboy bought us, the store keeper buttoned us upon his feet, and we Joined the throng we used to watch from the window. For a while we felt a little down-trodden—for looking straight out at life from @ window, and upat it from a paye- ment, are two very different things; how- ever we found ours was the fate of all shoes, and soon took real pleasure in being polish- ed for our daily walk. We used to shine al- miOht of course,” interraptea th ! of course, 2 peach, “quite lke the sun.” . a ‘he shoe paid no attention to it, but went on with his story: “Unfortunately, before I was half worn out, an envious stone, that could not shine, cut a hole in my side, and the hi boy gave me away to another boy—a very queer boy—he was al ways shout- pte such @ funny, long ersaneneraldtrybuaeentimes.’ I heard it so often I learned it by heart, and I never could flod out whatit meant. I was too big for the foot of the queer boy, so he led me on with a piece of rope, and I had tor a ap inoue: - my a — an old carpet-slipper of no eat all, so low hadI fallen.” = = “Didn't think shoes could fall any lower than they always are,” sald the overripe >. at the same time laughing so heart- iy at itsown wit, that it split its sides.” “And at last,” continued the shoe, “I found Iyself—just ableto keep body and sole to- gether—Kicked aside by the queer boy, and left, as far as I can see, to the end my days in a gutter. Soyou'll perceive. Miss Hair- pin, you’re not the only one who has met with misfortune.” “in afraid there’s no hope for that,” said the shoe. But, even as he spoke, a few large rain- drops began to dance on the sidewalk, and soon the hair-pin got her wish, for Le f hustled her and the two halves of the peaci into the gutter, beside the shoe, and then down came therain in a torrent, and swept them all @long until they reached the sea, and therethey must be clean enough, god- ey knows, bathing all day, and night, | His Luctp EXPLANATION.—A Chicago Woman who had been reading about the whisky frauds lu the paper, turned to her husband last evening and inquired: “My dear, what dothe papers mean by saying that the man has ‘squealed”? “Why,” replied the man ioftily, “they mean that some member of the ring has ‘peached’ on the rest.”" “‘Peached on the rest?” exclaimed the wife; “now what does that mean?” “Why, it means that he’s—he’s ‘blowed on ’ern.’ “Blowed on them.” “Yes; you see he’s ‘given em away.’ “Given them away.” “Why, of course—dummit! Can't you un- derstand anything? Do you think I’m an th 1 ee the =e impatiently. It :means he’s—he’s ‘le! “4 back’ his ‘pale’— ? on “squeaied’—you know?” 6 woman did not seem quite satisfied With the man’s lucid explanation; but, not wishing to appear ignorant in her husband’s eyes, she remarked, ‘Ah, yes; I see?” and forbore further ques' ‘Chicago Jour- | of Washington, Thomas Hickey, a REVOLUTIONARY RELIC. Expl. ‘achinzton’s Headquarters — Becomes P liar with His Pockets —Pians Stolen and Copied for the Enemy —Extraordimary Testi mony {From the New York Me We have at our elbow an old volume, one of the very few which, in revolutionary times, darea to attack the private character of George Washington, whose glorious achievements have given us the centennial of liberty we now celebrate. It is entitied, “Minutes of tue trial and examination of certain ‘sons in the province of New York, chai with being engaged in the conspi- racy against the authority of the Congr-<s and the liberty of America. London. Pub- w. No. 23 Pateraoster Row, x ” This rare volume attempts to sully the reputation of the grat Virginian, we sbould have it over but for the fact that its insinuations been embodied in the earlier military is of the great straggle, now almost in- in | accessible and forgotten. These records pur- port that Washington was intimate with a servant girl med Mary Gibboas, who Waited op him at his headquarters in this city, and that sue stole military dispatches from his pockei, which, after being copied, were returned. he copies were sent to the enemy, whose ships of war were anchored in the bay. Before we proceed farther, it is ne- cessary to describ» the haunts of tha British loyalists, at whose instance Mary Gibbous became fam\!lar with her master, for the pur- pose of purloining the plaus of his great cam- paign. In the spring of 1776 Washicgton's head - quarters were locate 1 in aa ol! mansion cot far from the Lispenard meaiows, tn the vieinity of the street in the fif-h ward called after that name, Above the meadows was a then celebrated places Known as Richmond Hill, Low the iower portion of Varick street. A short distane> from it stood an old inn, «Corbies’ Tavern,” which was nightly haunted by the adherents of King George. Another tavern which they frequented stood | bear the old barracks, on the spot which is familiar to the Row.” Over 1 geant’s Arms.” Sage generation as “Tyron is inn was the en “Ser- Here one of the bo ly-guard trattor and an intimate friend of Mary Giobons, | Was in the habit of meeting loyalists, who had, after Washington's plans Rad been ob- tained, encompassed his death by assassina- tion. The Sergeant's Arms was kept by one Alexander Sinclair, a Scotchman. THE FIRST CLEW TO THE CONSPIRACY was found in a novel way. Mc. Collyer,a waiter at the Sergeant's Arms, and, a; he proved, a valuable friend of the couatry, rushed to the house of Joseph Smith a pa- triotic American, and informed him that he had some affairs of great iny ce to com- municate, and that he would lay them bafore him if he would promise protection from violence. The walter was at once iaformed that he would not only be protected, but would be hannsomely rewarjed if bis dis- coveries were of any importance. Eaczur- aged by this promise, Collyer said that the Sergeant's Arms tavern. was the scene of a “at conspiracy—that men met there and declared that they would not submit to the damnable oppression of the American Coa- gress; that he conceaiel himseif in an ad- joining chamber, that he heard them spsak ofan See that had been entered tato in New York and the neighboring province to free themselves from Congress; that he understood from their conversation that arms were distributed among th partisans, and that @ correspondence was establisiel between them and the British army. Mr. Smith questione! him concerning the names of the persons who had met at bis master’s house, and learaed from him that Messrs. Forbes, Garrison, Cockshall, Burke, and Sebring were the most active persons. Mr. Smith, continues the narrative, seat this information at once to the American Congress, and the latter determined to act with the utmost caution and arrest the leader of the conspirators, who appeared to be Gilbert Forbes. A DESCENT ON FORBES’ HOUSE ON BROAD way. Accordingly @ party ef tried men were se- lected to make a descent on Forbes’ house, Which was located on the lower portion of Broadway, near Wali street. He was re amith. At2o’clock on tne morning of June 1076 ty, under the command of uu, Surrounded Forbes’ house, and, ing broken open the froat door, rushed up stairs to his bed-room, where they found himasleep. He was utterly surprised. The captain demanded the Keys of toe ya- ad the men seized him lest he might escape. He surren- dered his Keys, bat not before he was in- formed that they were demanded in the name ard in behalf of the American Con- gress. A search was then made, resulting in the discovery of the most importaatdocu- ments which were transmitted to Congress. Among them was a copy of the articles of association of the conspirator: i their names, who had pled, them: es Virtu- => lead a civil war in this city in favor of King George. Forbes was taxen to jal and a close watch kept upon him night aod day. Subsequently the conspirators whose names were recorded on the documents found at Forbes’ house, were arrested, and these papers led to the complete discovery of the (ony n which Mary Gibbonsand Thomas Hickey were the leading actors. Aware of the importance of the papers sent to them, the provisional congress ap- inted the following patriots as a coart of nquiry,and to bring to condign punish- ment such person or persons as they should find concerned in the opnapiracy: Peter R. Livingston, president; J. M. Scott, Marinus Willett, Alex. McDougal, Joan Berrian, Here. Mulligan, Gershon Mott, Peter Arie- mus, John Abell. Com. Byvank, John Stoughtenburg, James Wetseli, Joha Crem- shere; and Gilbert Smith, secretary. * This court convened at the house of Mr. roe —~ at Beekman o_O Mr. — ham Livingston, appearing, informe! the court that he had caifed upoa Forbes in Jail, and that he promised to disclose matters of great im) if security should begiven him for his own personal safety. Forbes was subsequently brought before the court. He showed t signs of consternation and guilt, with @ faltering voice begged the committee to allow him some time Ww com. pose his mind, and permit him to have coun- sel to assist in bis defence. Tue president replied:—“‘Sir, we shall show you ail the candor and justice you can éxpect. Bue questions we shall put to you are only con- pec g omental of fact, and if you wish for some time only to be better able to prevari- cate and evade, I inform you that your re- quest cannot be granted.” To this the prisoner replied: “I beg, gen- Uemen, you will not be harsh and hasty with me. I am sure I never meantany barm against my country, but minded the business of my shop. I have been treated very cruelly—torn out of my bed at the dead of night, my sick wife and family alarmed. my papers seized, and my house ransacked without my knowing why or wherefore, and ibrown into a prison, denied @ counsel or assistance of any friend or acquaintance.” Mr. Mulligan.—“Sir, 1 am surprised you have the boldness to speak in this manner before the court, after what you have been guilty of. I andes to conceal nothing, gc nas hope mee Sad ‘he court, er some furtier remarks, finding Forbes obdurate, rema@aded him to rison. -s - After examining other witnesses, who tes- tified In @ general way to the,coaspiracy and Forbes’ connection with if, the priricipal witness was called. His testimony is given verbatim, as recorded in the volume be- fore us. WM. COOPER, (SOLDIER,) SWORN. Court.—* Inform us what conversation you beard at the Sergeant's Arms?” per.—‘Being there the’ 2ist of May, I beard John Clayford inform the company that Mary Gibbons was thoroughly ia their interest, and that the whole would be safe. 1 learnt from inquiry that Mary Gibbons was there very often late at night in disguise; he learnt also that this mate with Clayford, and toid him of wi id. Court-—“Did a Court.—“Had they po o'r secount. ba th. se communicated by Mrs. GI bon Sav-ge “Ye .mu ¥. therp pe sandl t- ters Were rene, 9) @ | aR lols ti at oe oy formatl bby officer «-ent-ma of high rm nk snd dietinetion, wo arGen. Was tox on, ara ip his cuduerce Cc Id you flad cut who be was?’ ‘o.” yy whom was this intelligeace communicated?” “By Mr. Vandenbergh ” *You cannot give any reason to Court. Suspect what officer it was’ Savage—“No. I could not learn who it was; bul was often told that be was @ gentle man in whom Gen. Wasbington piace ! great confidence and relied much npon.’ The court nomen him to withdraw and the room to be cl Mr. Livingston._“In my opinion, gentle men, we had better defer examining aby ore Witnesses till we can consult Gen. Washing ton and some other officers upon what has apy % Mr Scott.—-I think we have no time for delay; we may run through an examination of the witnesses, as this court is an ind eptone, fer the good of the pubile, aud no time should be lost in coming at the bottom Of this horrid affair.” Court.—“It would be justice to the General, as he is some way affected by the last wit- ness, to apprise him of it and consult with him; in the mean time the other suspected Pereous should be seized as speedily as pos- sibie.t The court accordingly adjourned until the th of June. During this interval the com- mitiee had many cenferences on the subject with General Washington aud many other officers. They bad also private examtna- Lions of the prisoners. Orders were txsaed to Seize the persons of John Wiley, Norman Ptolemy. en and Crossfield, and inform- ation th number Of the Couspirators were d at and near Jamaica, Long Island, a@ party of horse were ordered to take them) under the command of Capt Willet. When they reached Jamaica they found the con- spirators, to the number of eighteen, had retired to a wood on top of @ hill. determined to defend themselves. Captain Willet gota small reinforcement, and then surrounded the eminence where they were postet. A brisk fire ensued as our people approached, and they obstinately continued to resist, tll having iost one mau, and others bsing dan- gerously wounded sud disabled, they thought Proper to surrender, and were brougat pris- oners to New York June 29. The Congress, takin serious consideration the nam- ber of disaffected persons in the province and the danger of Keeping them in the city, thought fit to send two hundred of them into jonnecticnt, to be kept in the differant Prisons till they could be brought conve- niently to trial. It having appeared from strong evidence and many Cireamstances that David Math- Ws, e8q., re of the city, was an aider and abettorof the conspiracy, and also the ——_ manager of @a illegal correspond. ence, was seized by order of the Provin- cial Con: and committed to the w Jatl;on the 3d of July the committee again met, and ordered James Clayfori to be brought before them. The prisoner being at the bar and sworn, Mr. Mott said to him, by order of this com- mittee: “I inform you that we have tne clearest evidence of you having been treach. erously engaged in obtainiag information and papers relating to public affairs, which you delivered to certain a8 to be con- veyed to the enemy; that in privacy and in covenant with Mary Gibbous you felovi- ously and secretly copied writings of the commander-in-chief, which were atterwards sent to be communicate! to the foes of America; that you in your heart conceived and proposed a plan to seize on the person of Generai Washington and carry him off as a prisoner to the mercenary army. What have you to answer to these charges, or to say why you should not be made an example of, Prisoner.—“I labor under every disadvan- tage, having no one to speak for in¢, and not being tried by a jury; but I have confidence in the humanity of this court. Do not be Severe with me, gentlemen, nor shed the blood of an innocent man. I beg that I may hear the evidence against me examined be- fore my face.” Court.—“It is our opinion that you are gulity, and you are to be remanded wo the jail from whence you came, and we recom. mend you to prepare for that death you de- serve, and to which you are condemned by the apthority of your country.” The prisoner was very abusive, calling the =... and murderers, but the gaard horried him away. The evidence was sent to Congress and ac- tion upon it was taken immediately. The evidence taken before the court led to the arrest of Tnomas Hickey, who was tried 4 court-martial, and ordered to be han; The sentence was later approved by Wash- ington. On the morning of the 2sth of July, 1776, all the officers and men on duty in this belon, Heath, Spencer, irded the prisoner to the place of execution, which was near a field near Bowery lane, in the vicinity of City Hall park. Therehe was hanged in the presence of 20,000 S- Tuomas Hickey, 1t should be sald, was a deserter from tne British army. It fs un- necessary to pursue this strange narrative further, and therefore we draw it to a close. Statistics of the Commune. {Paris Correspondence New York Tribune} Between the 3d of April and the 20un of May, 151, iu the course of the fight tween the National and Commune soldiers, 3,500 of the latter were taken prisoners. From the 2ist to the 23th of May—the week of the bloody struggle in Paris—2s,000 prison- ers were seized and marched to Versailles. du Juve and od 5,000 other arrests were made by the military authorities and its agents From August, 1871, to May, 1872, humerous others were arrested by the civil police in Paris and the departments, and for Ube most part gradually forwarded to Ver. sailles as fast as the incumbered prison- room there was vacated. The number of persons arrested in consequence of tae in- surrection was about 35.000, of wkom 5,000 were soldiers, 850 women, and 650 children of sixteen years and under. The councils of war had to decide on the fate of 47,243 persons (or the names of them),of whom &i4 were women and 541 children. Of this mass 13,450 have been condemned to hard tabor, trans- Fortation, banishment, or confinement in various kinds of prisons for various terms. But of these 13,450, nearly one-fourth—that is, 3.313, having fled the country, or life per- baps, at least arrest—were econdemued par cotumace,@ Platonic pevalty, 80 to speak. Among otber contumacious persons are 175 condemned to death. Les absents ont tort in the eye of justice, and get a nominally se- verer ity than they would really caten bad they appeared in person before the tri- bunal. “There were ninety-five condemna- tions to death pronounced against pris- oners in hand, but of these only nine were pushed ‘to bloody execution on the plain of Sartory.. The est bad their penalties commuted to hard labor | or imprisonment for life, to transportation, &e. Noone was executed merely for having been an insu a member of the insurgent government. Ros- sel, with ano’ soldier, Was shot, not as Mr. Evarts said at the Beecher trial, and as many other well-imformed persons sup- pose, ‘by judgment for having executed tue chief justice of France’ (well enougu to ob- serve in passing, that no magisterial office in France give to the holder of it the ttle of chief justice, and that M. Bonjean was not the first or presiding jadge of we Court of Cassation),and the archbishop of Paris,with whose execution Rossel had nothing what- ever todo, but as military deserter. Others of the nine were executed as murderers for the part they took in the killing of the hostages or other persons. To resume: It ap) from the utterly trustworthy report of General A: that 47.273 persons, or their pames, furni for trials wo pone ange of wi but 13,450, less than one- . were condemned toany penalty. La po gov rr 8 of preven- it, Were set at liberty from. time to time as the tardy preliminary ex-") aminations failed to discover any grounds on which criminating could be made to rest; not been @ trial and conviction to es by theordinary courts of A Great Oversight. [From the Detroit Free Fress ) ent, however active, or even | Inst them | had New the Charms of Youthful Beauty are Restored The Maseries of « Partden Make-Up Dicwige 1 oy @ Professor of the irt What It Costs to be Bewwtijul fora Short Time. Prom the New Tork Sun Yester morning at an Stowe be who bas been Known to New Yor! ta ties i the inst eigoteen years. The establishment isto well Known that we need not tell itis. That the proprietor has done busivess in New York ts evident. There is every sign of prosperity about hi les & display of cosmetics, ohig- curls, Costly ornamental combs, and wiy revolving, thas showing tne tout ee ae itely dressed biende or jetty tresses. ¢ studied these figures curiously for @ moment and centered the shop. Like a true Parixian, MonsteurG— tntrusis the management of bis shop to Madame é She sat behind the desk, aod gave as- sent at once to our request for information in regard to the make-up of women, “Madame, is ittrue that aa old woman can be mate up to look reatly young” MAKING OLD WOMEN YoUNG. .., “Certainly she can,” was tbe reply. x “Even if she were over 50, aad wrinkled and gray?” “Yes, even tf ae old as 50 we can make her We can make hereither « or @ brace'te, wh chever she prefers you dye her hatrand enamel her We shall neither dye her hair nor eaamel . face.” What will you do?” ne, I will she bished half-dressing room. and calling te Maggie, requested her in Freach to bring her a number of things— works tn hair, curls, faise fronts, chignons and crim: 4 these on the dressin: “We will imagt in her carriage, sa: ing, f two hours to complete her mi has tagen her bath before leav: i has put on ali of her underwear that she intends to wear at the ball tuat evening. She wears for the drive to usa plain blac! skirt and @ loose redingote, which she re- moves, and takes her seat. She kaows beforehand that her make-up Will cost about | 850, that will inclade the cost of bair. She is gray, and her hair is also thin. We bras it all from her temples, forehead, and neck. The bar that grows on the temple and neck and around the ears we darken with a dres-_ sing of mascaro. Here it is.” And shé opened @ little box containing a cake of dark substance, of the consistence Of soap,a small, biack bristle brusb, smaller thaa @ tooth- brush, and with a ‘ting mirror in the top. Se coatinued: “This comes in all shaies from blonie to black; It is not a dye, only a dressing. It ould not do to apply to all tne hair, bat it, effectually tinges all of the lady's hair that® will be visible after we have finished her coiffure. Gentlemen purchase a great deal of mascaro for their beards. It's maaufac- tured by Panafiea, of Paris; we call him La Grand Panafieu. After this dressing is ap- plied we gather all the lady’s hair Ina fat coll on the top of her head.” Thea we pat ou @ false front of the eolor desired.” Madame showed us the kind of a front Which would be use! forthe purpose. It was made of natural curly hair, with each sepa. r.te hair drawn Into@ pieces of white hair 1 ce, and knotted there so firmly that it Ww vuld be easter to pull out the hair from the b -ad itself than from the lace in such a froat P aced over the flesh of the hand the lace is lavisible, and the hair looks as if ap 4 outof the skin. Itis easy tosee that suc! a front would be a perfect deception. Piacea directly over the parting of @ lady's bair it Simulates the nataral growth to perfection. Madame continaed :—“We draw the hair of this front around the lady's head and then pin on tis light chignon. You see that it, Woo, is made on bair lace, and imitates nat- ural hair perfectly. It is easily adjusted. We fasten It on and the front also with these fine invisible hair-pins. If any of the hair is not hidden we touch that part mascaro, or put on a little puff, or a a frizzetie. ‘The long curls falling dow: back we leave until the face is made up. We now proceed to remove the Pslgaolr or w per Which we placed around the lady's shoul- Gers when we began to dress her hair. We examine her whole face, neck and arms, and ‘With this small pair of tweezers we remove perfiaous bair. If there are any pimples we cover em with rit of rubber court- plaster. You see in this little book Uhat there are All shades of court-piaster to suit different shades of the sk! for the lips. wi or the 8 + a 3 5 z the brow and temples Next, if there are any black or brown moles, | we leave them to the last, and cover them with black court-piaster to make beauty- | Spots, or, a8 we cali them fn Paris, mouches. | Then with a soft, fine sponge we moisten the | face with rose water and wipe dry. Next we spread all over the arms, haads, neck and face this creme de Pimperatrice, and this | still fuer preparation cremr de ly:.’ Both you | see have been approved by the Faculty of Medicine of Paris. We rub it in and dowa | with a fine, Sponge, ant we are ‘ through the ¢ is ctly white, too | white to be naiaral, in fact. loreover, the creme Oils and hides & ur lady looks almost like a fi: * atue. Still the nataral color and texture’ ot ‘he skin show beautifally through the Lil whi ness. Now we take the brash, after “learing the eyebrows, we color with fart Jncien, carefully matching the color of the hair wi.ich the laity bas chosen.” She showed us the little cake of fard and the veards. Next she opened Inclosed a biae pencil’, It looked very much like @ blue crayon. | “ What use do you make of this?” nother little box which | _“ Remember we have hidden the veins On the surface of our lady's skin. With this neil, which you see is also approved by tne ‘acuity Of Medicine of Paris, we trace the Veins aii over again. We begin at the hands, go up the arms, pencil them on the tair neck, On tne sides of the face,on the temples, and the forehead. This requires the nicest care and some knowledge of anatomy, for we mast not mace veins at . Thea with this same penc!l] we trace a delicate line under each eye, and shade off the same with a clean leather stamp or 11. Some ase fard Indien for this purpose; bat it is a mistake. Thetis @ very coarse make-up which is easily seen through. When we have finished with one of our carefully-studied make ups, the lady looks as natural as she does beautiful.” “ And bow loag will it last?” “ Until the lady finds it necessary to wash skin,” was the reply. Please proceed with the process.” Now comes the very nicest part of all, the application of the color. Here are a dozen different shades of rouge. If our lady is made up for ® blonde she will require pale rouge; | if for @ blonde, dark. Sometimes it takes ten minutes or more to get precisely the | right shade. At last itis found, and we | on. We tint the cheeks, shading of with ki or buckskin stamps on the side of the face and loward the nose and eyes. We tinge the | nostrils in the same manner, also the chin and the ears, for & healthy woman always bas as much'color aroufid her nostrils, chin | and ears, as on her cheeks. The Ups of her | Angers and the palms of her bands are also gone over. Then the lips, which require an upguent red, which is also brought out in | different suades, to maten the different suades f At the last we puton the litte mouctgs, or beauty Spols, and attach the long cdfr!s, and the make-up is finished. have described the finest and most ar- tistic make-up of all, and also the costliest. The lady pays us $0, and all the cos- metiques and bair that has been used here, and as she sits before the Witnesses the whole oj fon she to comp the effect robes wears. Above all, sbe inust select ber neok- laces with care, . if possible, wear laces round her neck to a ie “4 ° iF HI “