Evening Star Newspaper, November 26, 1881, Page 6

HOME MATTERS. FALUABLE RECIPES—SOME SEASONABLE sUG- GESTIONS—ABUUT WINDOW GARDENING, &C., &c. New Strie or Darxive.—if, when you get Jour woolen dresses for winter use, you are sur- prised by finding the moths have been making a feast them, as many a threadbare place or a hole estify, or you are so unfortunate as _ to tear or cut a silk dress, take a piece of court plaster, and laying the threads of the gdods vers a heavy weight upon it, and will be delighted with .this new style of In case of a quite large hole being Xou may take @ piece of the sane mate- sthe dress, and putting mucilag around lay it under the rent place, pressing down very closely, and holding it in position until dry.— Country Gentleman. Fioatixe Ist.axp.—One quart of milk and the yolks of six ees; put on the milk and let it come to a boil at well the yolks with three am beat toacream. Add silk and stir still cooked. Be fy cooked in a double it must not be left | 1 into the or farina ket from the wow milk wutil it i= ¢ be added to th pis a dainty dish, suitable for . Use half a packaze of gela- tine, three eggs, one pint of sweet milk, two eups of suzar, and the juice of two g lem Soak the gelatine in a t for an} sived add one pi thirds of the let all come to a boil; th and pour in the dish iz whieh it is to be carried tg the table, or put it ina mould ap at least: t of | ir and tocol. Make a’custard of the milk; ezzs and | the rest of the rand lemon juice. When he mould is ready rve, put and the base, or cover it entirely | with the custard.—N.¥, Post. | TreaTMeNt ror Varicose Vrixs.—The | jon Lancet states that Dr. Linon, of Ver- je of Time locally cms to water, compressures of flannel ing steoped in the water, then wrung out, and by means of a flannel bandage, which This application | ur hours, and, on its re- | ions have almost en- | ications are re- ther we wetted ‘Until the until it gets it is’ then n with the solution, and applied verices have disappeared, which ht. How To Mayace Artus, | who has devoted hin the reason why wool! with soap and wa’ FLANNELS.—Prof. if to the dis n and other absorbs. tated upon th elothi The fat of the soap is then wool. These eflects may prevented by steeping the articles in a warm Solution of washing soda tor several hours, then ome Warm water anda few drops of The woollens are then to be washed out and rinsed in Inkewarm water. The pro- fessor further tells us that flannel which has become yellow by use may be whitened by put- ting it for some time in a solution of hard soap to which strong ammonia has been added. The pportions he gives are one and a half pounds of Tod caraca sony sed two-thirds of a pound of strong 50 pounds of soft water. The sai ined in a shorter t y hour in a gs the best dietetic plan in- st when they rise, which eludes a hearty break: is generally from 12 t 6 and 9 o'elo work. If the work 5 o'clock in the morning, jous repast should be eaten | fter mid n order to forti wv labor during the hours imm when the vital powers are most en- When the work is done. and before ri a very simp! ould be t ne until but nutri hdrawing been con- In ordinary cases © ess. not confined tinued habit. a light meal of tii erally prove a remedy be phatic for a well-chosen Feprobated; and nerve foods t is much t t tin man might upon the stimul to live upon them without the ary nutritions | expe tion of York Times. —When cutting rags ntly finds wide pieces of to twenty inches in length, too < and too short to tear into humber of such pieces are Iplan to thread the sewing 4 white cotton, and with in inch fi Crrmxe Canret Ra for a carpet one frequ eoft cloth fift good for the machine with Tong stitch sew 1K After tearing, | ald be trimmed off | the corne i . and there will be no ro with the sei Ress inthe ea warp to be drawn ly is Soon worn ard rments of thi Je into mats Cutti of an emp it to hold this convenient and use! Conntry Gentienan. Tue Wispow Garner: that the only room contains but one sunny range them so that all ca sun, Set_a row of pot fasten al .—It often happens | le for planta, To her higher up, allow- i ; n each two for the obable growth of the A coupte of | | seers pots can be suspended in wire brackets | e the window, and between these can be hung 2 number of «in: y placing across ts a str in strip of we them Then a two-pot iron nay be fastened at equal height on f the window, and if desired a nar- across from qne to the other. All these shelves can be filled with pots, but anless the windew is very high and ‘deep only @ limited number of small plants can be however, will thrive in the e received. Igonly a littletin |b: | until she undent somet | jist ter be a id, and | a THANKSGIVING AT STONE'S MILL From Harper’s Weekly. John Stone’s lumber mill was in the Green Mountains; so extra hands for the winter's fell- ing and hauling (“oggin’,” as tt is technically called) often came down from Canada. Stone was a powerfully built, ungainly man, with rest- less black eyes and aswarthy skin. He sat in his office one November day registering the names of some newly arrived “logzers.” “James Cooper,” he called out; “Sam Pres- ton; Michael Cassidy; Yorkshire Billy (how are you, Billy?) Allright.” He spoke with a for- eign accent. “Next.” The next was a slim young man with fair hair, who wore, like the rest, a rough flannel shirt, leather belt, and high boots. But the shirt col- ' lar was rolled back with a certain careless grace from a round comely throat, and held by a knotted searf. Stone looked up sharply into the pleasant gray eyes, and asked, “ Are yon a logger?” * answered the young fellow; “but I | want to be.” “ Humph do you want four, and T'll leave the wages to How old are you, and what wages Sevent: and more, 2 The hand looked rather amused. “What's your nam rthar Lennox Then the owner called out, “ nox went out to hunt up a Iton. a lank, tradition: the st y-five cents a day—all you are worth, oe and Len- , cartoon Yan- quiries with a that took in the gloss ir hair, the white teeth, the curling moustache, and the peculiar roll of the blue shirt collar. Then S jhere thut'll suit yer, % house below the bride. minutes arthur was walking through a heat Httle red house that seemed deserted. he stepped into the kitchen, and stood in ne back doorway, calling out, “Ray! I say, at” Ii young girl came out froma shed close She had a basket of wood steadied by one hand upon her s She passed by Arthur, who stepped ith a “Beg par- don,” lowered her burden by a skillful little ounce upon the free hand, and then asked: “What = vas calling house, I suppose. Ray, Mr. Ray, the owner of the Twant alodgi id the girl. W As she led the way, Arthur apol blundering entrance, fo the coil of hair at the back of her head, for th son didn’t condescend to turn round, explained, “Everybody calls me Ray; Rachel Joyce.” “Why, ie room is very nice,” exclaimed Ar- thur, “and so thoroughly clean, too.” Then he talked on in a familiar, laughing way, yet tem- pered too with a certain deference for her sex, jing of her defensive, under-bred lity, and actually stood smiling before him in a natural,girlish, pleasant fashion. He noticed what a singularly delicate face she had—a New England complexion, pearly fair, but with clear blue eyes and scarlet lips that told of robust health. He stood admiring the lines of her nose and mouth, and thinking that a brown ealico frock of a baggy make couldn't spoil genuine beauty after all, when suddenly he thought to ask, “Shall see your mother about the price?” “‘T have no mother and no father. The board is three dollars a week.” * Do you live here alone?” “Yes. I teach the district school, and in the login’ season I take boarders—a man from Can- anda, Billy, they call him, and his wife. Then his room is generally wanted by some logger, some one like—like— "She stopped in her ilfus- tration, and regarded this new specimen of log- ger with a puzzled expression. “Some one like me,” he suggested. \o; at least the loggers are not I “True, they're not like me, Miss Rachel. They're ‘stronzer, I envy them. Why, I only earn seventy-five cents a day.” ‘ve charzed you too much for the room,” she said, gently. “Nonsense!” he exclaimed, with an odd little laugh; “it’s an honest board. ['m a hard-work- ing boy, Miss Rachel, and I've something put “I wouldn't for the world be hard with you,” she added, graveiy. He answered, with an earnest look in his es. “I think, Miss Rachel, you wouldn't be hard with anybo * Then he changed the sub- ject b i ‘ou must have a great deal of ‘ou ean see the zed for his “oft brown oung per houghshe my name’s res, | have some,” she responded, with the genuine Yankee idiom. A little while after, when Arthur strolled down toward the miil, Si Moulton remarked: ot Varnin’, an’ a mind of Old Joyee, her father, ere mill, an’ when Ray was fourteen r old—lessee, thai ear ago—Joyce die Waval, Joyce was shiftless, an’ there was old debts from when he lived downto Boston. Them creditors they ¢ 5 @ muddle, when “do: that’s John Stone now- ce "eept Joy ter Ray, cut o’ pity ‘sorter, I she’s a art school-teacher Stone's Jist_a-dyin’ fur ter marry her. suess he twisti me over inter English ter nat'ral an’ humly like for her. But she don’t tike him, she don’t, an’ Queen Victorry onter her golden throne ain't R more hi y when she don’t like ab iy no,” Si admitted with regret; “she’s 1, but she wan't born here.” I thought there was something in her that—” “Nothi peaks good as me, or any- an’ we all cale‘late ter speak putty good here. Tell yer what, young feller, stay up here awhile, an’ ll 'arn yer ter talk as good as ine.” Arthur looked much more delighted than eyen this brilliant pr warranted, and laughed long and loud. Then he asked: “How about Thanksgiving, Sl, your great oliday 2” “W some folks eats a good deal, an’ the vork, cale‘late ter drink a good oh ya’as.” Si answered, cheerfully ing for the glory of his native place. “Dunno “bout flazs.but crowds—oh yes.crowds of folks. AML come here ter have a big time. Crowds and crow ds —yes, sir!” ie away, Arthur wrote ina nceit and shrewdness. Girl at my lodgings quite weil spoken, sweet voice, and uses the native idiom ina pardonable sort o “L want ter know!’ as an exclam- sf “It rains se Come here!” some one was calling Arthur from the mill. He hurried over the There was trouble and as_he stoaped lifting, a gold Ket into sight. ¥, but not quickly enough to work a’very tired man went home to Rachel's neat room.” At supper he met his fellow-boarders.. “Yorkshire Illy” entleman who ate his bread by scrap- ing the butter side on his under lip, and who nodded to Arthur over a_saucerful of tea bal- anced perilously on two fingers and a thumb. His wife, Mrs. Y. Billy, known familiarly as Jane, was a red-faced, Kindly soul, who con- ally admonished Rachel Ar loike bein’ "bout t’ fire. In the note-book that night was written: everal capital American types at mill. Note: grace only exists with strength. Land: lady carries the iron tea-kettle aloft, like a Hebe to their cultivation, a few are | with her golden cup.” an many. One of the advantages of this plan is that in a smal! living-room none of the crowded space is ocenpied by a cumbrous | piant stand. Another is that all the pots, save those on the window ledge, are out of the reach Of the mischievous fingers of children. To keep these lower pots from being puiled down, it Is Well to pass areund them from one side of the ndow to the other a strong twine, tied at each end aro screws sunken nearly to the head in ¢ sement. The plants would als be protected from littie fingers, from the dust of the livinc room, and from callers who pinch the Breaves, by lanzing from the wire brackets a breadti of mosquito netting long enough tu nearly touch the floor. It should be tied down at the bottom of the window with narrow rib- bon or cord and tassels. It is easily drawn aside when the plants are watered. or, if desired, can be taken entirely down after the sweepin and After Arthur was as’eep, Stone came to the house. He stopped in the front room, and asked, zently, “Well, Rachel, haf you some kind word for me, eli “T've the same word always,” she answered. “But I sall hope, is it not?—always hope. See, Thafmade myself American for you. I goto the church; I learn the English; I sall be a good husband.” “Don't; please don't,” said Rachel. “You can’t understand. If one loves, one loves, that all. Jcan't like you.” “ But my leetle dear one—” “You shali not call me that,” Rachel cried out, indignantly, and standing erect before him. “I forbid it.” He flushed an ugly red, and for a moment his good clothes aud well-brashed hair hid nothing of the peasant cunning and cruelty that lurked are over for the day.—Country Gentle- man, 5 ———__++-_______ At a po restaurant a clumsy waiter spills & plate of soup over the overcoat of a guest. Fury and desolation of the guest. The waiter, ealmly glancing at the clock: “It ts all right, air! Don't worry! It's 7:45, and our soup doesn’t @reaze anything after 7!”—Paris Pe beneath. For a moment he wa3 Jean Marie Laroche, then he took uphis amiable role aguin, tried to seem at ease, and sat down in the eee ete “Ts that En; ter ked, carelessly, “Ts that zleesh bey oes chap with a gold watch—boarding ere: “An English took the room to- day," Bachet answered, “Ldidu'tase ls wateh.® “Goold watch!” echoed Billy. “Us didn't sec | Laroche turned livid, held by no id watch.” “T saw It.” sald not honestly.” Rachel “He looks lil “Haw! haw!” Yorkshire bea weak-lookin’ ‘un. He yaller hair, al! coorly, loike a babby'’s. Haw! haw!” cThee's got summat loike a babby on thy head too, auld man,” Jane struck feeling on the new boarder's side. “Thee's got a big bald spot atoop.” - “Haw! haw!” Billy laughed again; but Stone went home sullen enough. The end is plain. What use to linger in the telling it? Arthur worked two weeks at the mill, coming home tired out ev Rachel began to take upon herself. motherly ways that more surely than all protest- ation, more surely than yows of ecstasies, claim @ woman’s tender regard. “He looks like an honest man.” with a dangerous pity. One night he said, “I'm going away Just after Thanksgiving.” —- She moved her lips, her eyes grew an sad, but she found ne words’ That was the night when Arthur entered in his note book: “Have abundant material for American sketches. Must secure some scenes from Thanksgiving celebration. Experience at mill invaluable. Laroche quite a melodramatic villain. I told Rachel not to say, ‘I want ter know!’ She turned the prettiest pink imagin- able, and hasn’t said it since.” Thank: di me at last. Work was suspended, and Stone’s looked more desolate than ever. “Where's the crowd of people, Si?” Arthur asked of the boastful native. Not to be crushed by the mere force of stupid facts, Si answered, boldiy, though there wasn’t a creature in sight, ** Pourin’ in—jist crowds an’ crowds a-pourin’ In alireound.” “Then he made off in a great hurry. Stone at his house was giving the men some- thing to drink. As the glasses clicked, Arthur could hear from outside the familiar brogue of Cassidy, the Irish hand. “Oh, bedad 1" he said, “w®rkin’ lad, Is it? Divil a bit. He’sa young lord: got hapes o° money. Did he tell me so? Faith, how do ye know but I've been acquainted wid him afore ? Mike Cassidy's no fool, b’ys. I was a young Juke, it was, in the ould country, that herded out Wid the pisantry all for sport? Good luck to yez. Misther Stone. Here's to yez, b'ys,” and Mike drained another glass. Arthur lauzhed to himself, and walked on. Presently Stone went up to Rachel's house. He strode through to the kitchen, where she was at work. “Rachel.” he bezan, “will you be my wife?” “1 will not,” she answered, clearly. “Afon Dieu!” he haif screamed, with a fright- fal look of despair. “After all these years! I haf renounce my religion, my country, my lan- guage, all for you, and now you follow astrange man—you zo tobe a lady in England, Mon Dieu!” He beat his dark forehead with hisopen palm, dishevelling his black hair, and looking like a fiend. “I don't know what you mean,” said Rachel. “Don't know? You mock me. This fellow is noble—you know well what I mean—he is a lord, a gentleman, a cursed English noble. He can ‘gif you jewels, dresses, money.” He grew very hoarse, and grasped her arm. “ He will steal you from me. I—I—” half strangled him, but Rachel heard the words gate him!” hissed through Laroche's dry Pp She flashed upon him an instant the whiteness of her angry face. “Ah,” he cried. with that same stifled scream, * you can be terrible—terrible for his sake! We shall see! we shall see!” He uttered in his own patois; some imprecation, some swift jargon impossible to foliow as words, but full of dire meaning. It was not fear of Laroche that sent Rachel to her room, and threw ber ou her knees in an agony of weeping. She had defended and sup- ported herself from childhood, and hardly knew the meaning of fear. Two hours later slie came down stairs with such a look of peace, of renun- ciation, of self-conquest. that Arthur forgot the old brown frock, the little provincialisms of speech, the hands somewhat roughened by toil, and only thought, “She is like an angel.” It had been a raw, threatening day, and to- ward night came a wet, sleeting storm of snow. Some loggers dropped in to talk about the change of work. Felling and hauling began with the first snow. In the evening Stone joined them. Rachel gave him a searching look, but he wore a smile, had a leisurely air, and said to ‘he men: Had a good T’anksceevin’, bi Cassidy answered, “Yis, sor: and may your isky juz be like Tim the Piper!” “How's that, Mike?” “Always full, your honor. “T teenk,” said Laroche. “that somebody must to the mill and shut that sliding win- he saw. The stort he added, ple: You haf less drunk as we haf “All right,” Arthur answered. Then, after crossing to his room, looked in again, muffled ina heavy gray ulster. “It e slippery on_the foot-1 the dam—take care,” said Laroche. “And hi Lennox, pull up the sluice boards as you pas and let the water over the dam. The river ees too full.” Soon after, Laroche yawned, bid a civil good- night, and went out. Rachel stepped into the kitchen, and quietly shut the door between the two room Stone's warning about the foot-bridg mistimed, Arthur thought. He could hardly bear up azainst the wind and driving sleet, and inthe darkness was near to stepping oif the narrow planking more than once. The water was closed in at least twenty feet deep above the dam, and below there wasan equal depth of sheer fall upon jazzed rocks. He iade directly for the mill, meaning to pull up the sinice boards on his way back. The window was open, and using all his strength, he closed it, then turned to retrace his steps.’ Suddenly le be- came conscious of a strong draught. ‘The doors that led out upon the rails, on which the finished work was sent from the mill were open. These rails were on a trestle-work, and reached the level at the bridge Just above Rachel’s hous Arthurcalled out, grufil “Who is it?” “Hush!” the answer came back. Rachel “Rael e was not “It’s I “Why, what’s the el!” he exclaimed. “T came on " she answered, “You must use the same wa} They are treacherous in this snow, but era Teach the road, and mabe straight for Madison. An express passes at eleven. and co away.” el—” he began. » she pleaded. “You will be at- it—perhaps murdered. Laroche is now to do it. 1knowhim. Oh. if I've ever done a kind thing for you, forme.” “Fm in no danger at all. I'll run home across the toot-bridze over tie dam. No one has missed ‘arranged that. Arthur! Arthur! if you've y pity on me, zo,” she sobbed, aud urged him toward the open doors. “Rachel, how can T'thank you? Here, up inm house.” wrap y coat; it will keep you warm to the she replied. Then, “Yes, Pll take the é ut, Rachel, I may come back?” he was gone into the darkness, and he made his escape. Rachel paused, on reaching the plank walk, to put on the heavy coat; then she stepped lightly and firmly along the treacherous path, stopping now and then to listen. By the jarring beneath her feet she knew, about midway, that some one was meeting her. She guessed who it’ was, thought of Arthur, not really safe yet, and then she felt herself seized. he's breath was on her face, his dreadful jargon of curses in her ear. She knew that, wrapped in that coat, he mistook her, In the darkness, for Arthur. She struggled wildly, but uttered no cry. There was a strange shock and pain in her arm, thep she was battling with the icy water of the rT. Bewildered, she still r: membered the sluice boards were closed, and there was no danger of going over the dam. She held by the boarding all along the top of the masonry and planking, and half swam, half pulled herself to shore, Just under the mill. Ina moment there was a strange roar, a mighty rushing sound, and the whole force of the river was tumbling over on to the jagged rocks below. Laroche had opened the dam. A human body in that water would be awere along, dashed and torn to pieces, then lie, up somewhere, covered by ne eke and by spring it would be unrecog- nizable. Very late, Rachel crept softly home. She looked at her arm, It had been stabbed. The wound was painful, but not deep. A Week later the Johnsville constable came over to Stone's, and indorsed the general opin- jon that Lennox had fallen off the idge after having raised the sluice boards, been swept away. . After a month, sald, “Don’t feel hard to me: I lof you.” “Stay,” Rachel answ ; “I have something aon pia She brought the coat—the gray Ulster wore Sioa re he went to mill. There were holes in it here and there, from unsuccessful knife. deep stain of blood. - one hi Stone. “Perhaps he haf it | pointed at tried to approach a fool,” retorted Stone, hotly. | your crime to the whole Billy laughed, “‘he | very distinct night, and | besuty, you are acredulousiittle rustic, afterall. those little | I'm no lord, nor ro- | literary fellow, a correspondent of papers, She hed a | ambitious to write & book. I'm fairly well of, pretty trick of half scolding him, and ordering | and my father’s a ‘barrister. ‘im to work more leisurely, then looking at him | duchess, dear, Rage had | and with the other tremblingly dat’ the ‘accusing stain, while he vainiy again, and I will tell world,” said Rachel, Tu three days Laroshe had sold out the prop- *THochel ed 8 el had a letter from Boston, which she “No; for I taught myself, the hour I heard of oad rank and title, to renounce all thought of ing your wife. You not suffer the shame of marrying beneath you.” A letter came back in this style: “My Darling:—With all your good sense and “Ever ach me in, with evident | answered in this way: Juke, nor anything those fi tellizent loggers thought me. I'm only * an Yon won't be a though you'll be the wife of the proudest man on earth.” One day in the honey-moon Arthur asked, “ Why do, you wear that band upon your arm, my love?” Then for the first’ time Rachel told him the whole story of Laroche and his attempted crime. On his knees, he kissed the cruel scar a thou- sand times. There’s one English household in which our Thanksgiving day is religiously kept, and one little English boy lisps to itis playmates, “In my mamina’s country there’s a day when you get a awful cut across the arm, and then there’s a awful scar, and that’s Thanksgiving day.” The playmates are awed with the Se but tragical statement, and look upon little Arthur as an authority on the customs of savage lands. Three French Presidents. From the St. James Gazette. It is to be remarked of M. Grevy that he is an eminently correct president ; he gives his mas- ter of the ceremonies far less trouble than M. Thiers. The latter delighted to have a military guard and to be received bya roll of drums wherever he went. He put on the cross of the Legion of Honor as soon as he came to office, though he was only a grand officer of the army before ; he required that ambassadors, on intro- duction, should make him the three customary bows, as toa sovereign; and he expected that | all the honors paid to himself should be rendered | to his wife likewise. But then M. Thiers, when he was giving audience in the morning, kept rushing out of his study every quarter of an hour to espy who were waiting to see him in the ante-rooms. He shook hands with some, scolded others, made straight for any newspaper editor who might be present, giving him precedence over dukes or archbish- ops, and talking with him pretty audibly in that shrill falsetto of his about the views he desired | the editor to promulgate. When he gave din: ners again, M. Thiers could not be prevailed upon | to sit while his guests were going through the customary series of courses. His own invaria- | ble menu Was a cut off a joint,with some v - | bies and a few spoonfuls of jam; and when he | had dispatched this fare,whici he did in ten min- utes, he either frisked about the room or retired into the next onetotakea nap. Ifhe lingered long- er than usualat table it wastostart some political | discussion which made his guests uncomfortable; | and all this was very grievous to the master of the ceremonies. Marshal MacMahon had served an apprenticeship in court pomps during his governor generalship of Algiers, and under the auspices of the Countess de Magenta the etiquet of the Elysee was modeled on that of the Tuileries during the empire. ‘The servants wore the MacMahon liveries of gray, scarlet and silver, with aiglets and powder. There was always an aide-de-camp in full uniform, and an officer of the palace jruard to attend in the n shal’s ante-room: and the duchess herself was constantly attended by one or two ladies-in-wait- ing. When the president and the duchess went to the races they and their suite occupied two, sometimes three, carriages with four horses, which were preceded and followed by outriders, and when they traveled they used the saloon carriages which had been built for the emperor. President Grevy neither keeps up so much state as the marshal, nor transgresses the minor laws of etiquet so cavalierly as M. Thiers. | Before coming to the Elysee he had inhabited apartments in the palace of Versailles, by virtue of his position as president of the chainber of deputies; but his style of living was of the sim- plest. and his attire was that of a country lawyer. He never wore a high hat or gloves. | He had a “property” hat, which was kept under | his desk in the chamber ready to hand, in. case it became necessary to ‘cower himself” and thereby to suspend a tumultuous _ sitting abruptly; but in the streets he wore a wide-awake. He was very fond of strolling about the boulevards for hours at a time, | looking into tie shop windows, and he was passionately fond of billiards, nor did he care whom he played with. One of his favorite op ponents at this game was M. Paul de Cassagnac, | with whom he has not an idea in commor the r of the Pays and he never exc political views while making caroms. 4 agriculture and music are the topics on which M. Grevy converses with most pleasure; but he is a silent man, who talks no more than is necessary to make the time pass, and he never lets conversation run into argument. When | became president. M. Grevy had to give up li wid ard strolis, and to moderate his ardor for billiards. His most fi quent companion at this game has been of M. Wilson, who 1 te going to become his son-in- aw. as. president, also had to don the broad ribbon of the Legion of Honc did not do this until after much alary is £32,000 an Marshal MacMahon, he p , on the co ‘ary, spent a great deal more than’ his salary for, besides keeping up a large establishment of servants and many horses and carriages, he en- tertained a good deal. He used to give at least of dinners every week, whereas M. evy scarcely gives one @ month. M. Grevy as many servants as the Elysee requires, but not one over. They dress in black, like the hotel waiters. The president’s coachman also wears black, without a cockade; and the car- riages he drives are smail, plain broughams, black, and with dark-blue wheels, and no crest on the panels; they are drawn by a couple of bays. When the president has to attend a great open-air pageant, as when he distributed new fl to the army last year, he has a barouche with four horses; but he has no out-riders. Hi cook, too, is no grand artist receiving the sala ofa prefect, like the famous M. Prompette, who lords it over M. Gambetta’s saucepans at the Palais Bourbon. All the housekeeping arrai ments at the Elysee are under control of Mlle. Gre and Will remain so after her m: for she and her husband are going to reside in the presidential palace. Se Mints for Amateur Theatricals, From Harper's Bazar. The plan usually followed in private theatri- cals is to secure two or three really good actors, choose a play which will bring out their strong points, and fill up the cast with volunteers. It isto these novices that I would give a few words of explanation of terms constantly used in stage directions, answering here a question that has often been asked me: “Oh, can you tell me what R. U. E. means?” and also a few hints as to rules absolutely necessary to be observed in order to preserve the unity of the piece. The stars are usually all right; they are used to acting, and, besides, their’ parts give them plenty to do, and they naturally take a sufii- cient interest inthe plot to appear to do so. And this is where amateurs with small parts generally fail. They have, perhaps, to be for a jong time on the stage with little or nothing to say; but what Is going on among the other actors may be on a subject which they should find interesting. You would not talk to your neighbor about the weather, for instance, while the marriage of your sister was being arranged, or gaze round the house in search of igs rar ope while the reconciliation of your long-lost father and mother was going on. Ihave known beginners make their by- play more visible and audible than the tala part of the performance, and nothing can be Worse than this, Their question is always: ut what am I todo? Yean't do nothing.” The answer that naturally occurs is: “Why not? You do nothing in private life, and don’t seem to find it dificult. Ifyou are not wanted in the nt, get away to :the back, and efface your- selves—pretend to talk, or look at a book, or at each other; but di talk out loud, for the e theatricals are generally 80 murmur. If you are supposed to be. interested in what is going on, appear, at all events, to listen to it, other- wise you convey to the audience the’ fact which it is your art to suppress—that you have heard it very often piready, and know all about it.” you can pick up your sre: ‘The idea.that rehearsals or Cat ‘ompter is a we a thorough the rehearsals parts at up the words from the mistake. You should the words before — ‘a table with Motor) 0 ‘be considered In a picture as well as form, it is to ascertain what the per- formers, especially the ladies, mean to wear, and to them to adopt colors which will go well with the background and with each other. As the scenery is very frequently painted on the spot by one of the company, it may often be toned so as to harmonize with the dresses. Another point where beginners often fail is they do not speak loud enough. For this rea- son I strongly advise them to act at rehearsals, and to get a friend in the back row to tell them candidly whether they can be heard. Old stagers are in the habit of rushing through their words, and only giving the cues distinctly. This is all very well for them, but it does not answer for beginners, and they will find the more they play their parts at re! as_they mean to play them at the performance the more likely they are to be successful. The slightest part may be played well or badly, and you may light up acharacter inamanner not expressed by the stage directions by merely thinking it weil over and considering what it would be natural fora person in such circumstauces to do, and doing it. Farces, as _a rule, are more troublesome to get up than comediettas, from the quantity small properties required. The prompter much to do in some farees as any of the (without counting prompting, which to be required), all the noises behind the seenes | being managed by him. The rattle of breaking crockery is imitated by sewing up old broken plates, ete., in a hamper and dropping i “Our Wife” a storm comes on suddenly thunder may be imitated by shaking a thin sheet of iron; the patter of rain, by peas drop- | ping from one end to the other of a tin box tially divided by ledges; the noise of a window bursting in, by a*‘crash” filled with bits of tin. Where the properties required are very numer- ous, it is a good plan to tell off one person as “property man,” who will make lists ot wz that is wanted, collect them be: play beg that ezch person has his own pro} e going to rehearse as much as possible with properti The prompter’s copy of the play should be in. terleaved with blank paper, on which he mak notes of all he has to do—as ringing bells and all incidental noises; warning the various actors and actresses when they have to appear. It i3 well to inake a note of their different entranc about half a page before they actually occur,and then, if there is a call-boy in the company, he is sent to warn them to be on the alert. Amateurs generally have to look out for themseives in these matters, and they ought to waich care- fully, as nothing is more annoying to the actors on the stage than a staze-wait. In some pla dresses liave to be changed during the course of ascene; everything should be placed ready be- foreland, and acompetent persoa should be in waiting to assist the actor or actre: changing should also be rehearsed, and the noted. If the time allowed is very short. it is well to request the actors to play slowly during the interval, to introduce business, or even to “gag” a little. This uzi means simply to add something of your own to the author's words; and, as a general rule, it may be said that it is better to stick to the text. Of course, it is frequently advisable to leave a few sentences of the dialogue, but it i an advantage to add an Some rare ‘instances where the sentence is s obscurely worded as to leave the auditors in doubt as to the meaning of it. The “tag” at the end of most plays must be left out by amateurs who only again,” indefinitely. The play generally ends quite as weil without It; if it does not. the prin- cipal performer (who would speak the tag) can generally substitute something else for it which will make an effective ending to the piece. Many modern plays are written without any t It may be well to remember, when fixing on the pieces to be performed, that amateurs rarely take as long in acting a play as professionals do, except where there are then the extra time consumed by unprofes- sional scene-shifters brings it up to the time mentioned at the beginning of each play; but where there is only one scene, as in a farce where professionals have written down an hour, amateurs might usually write down three-quarters, the difference being that they speak quicker, and “have not always nerve enough to “go in” for much business. I imagine all actors know what “business” means, tb ial a part of acting speaking in contradis- not by any tal, ing. Of up an nt is; it is, in fact, the doing anything tinction to speaking it. Business means essentially comie; it may be and is some cases is unspeakably touc course there may be business in puttin: umbrella, but so there is—and an unple amount of it—in a dying scene. To be eflect i business must be as_rea lite picture. istic as a moder If you have to pla a v instance, the gardener in hearts”) mark th in wh pre- pares his bass for tying up his plants, the way he handies the parcel—a young tree tied up— the comfortable manner Ne disposes hit the ladder fora go: instead of work, e the way he moistens his hands when he decides ix: all of that is business. A butler, a mil- acobbler, all have tricks of manner; human nature itself has a go 1 speak to the eye more quickly tian words do to the ear. nee Notes on Orchard and Gardea W ork. From the American Agriculturist. So graduaily is the approach of winter, that sPequently the work which naturally belongs to the open, pleasant weather of October may be carricd on well into November. It shou!d be re- me inbered that spring with us is short, and the amount of work is so great, that it is the busiest season of the year. A late autumn maybe made to greatly relieve the pressure of spring work by allowing many things to be done well in ad— ce. This isa time when a definite plan for the next season should be matured in ali the de- partments ofthe orchard and garden. ORCHARD AND NURSERY. Trees planted this tall should have earth drawn up around them, making a mound 12 to 15 inches in height. It should be of solid, clean earth, clean from all sods, weeds, etc., or else it willfurnisha winter home for mice. The mound thus made serves a double purpose of a support to the young tree against the winds of winter, ‘vents mice from gnawing the tree. Rab- sczu do much harm to a young orchard. When the trees are few they can be protected by bands of cloth, or even tarred paper. These have a distaste for meat, and may be kept from the trees by raobing them or smearing the trunks with blood. catch many of them by trapping, and afford what is to many an acceptable variety for tie table. If the weather remains mild, and the ground open, trees may be still planted. South of the 40th parallel planting may be done during the greater part of the winter. Planting in the fall relieves the pressure of spring work. ground is frozen, rather than place the roots among frozen clods, it is better to heel-in the trees until spring. The labels upon the trees should be looked to. Never leave the labeis on the trees that are placed there in the nursery. They are usually wired on tightly, and are ouly intended to identify the trees when received and not for permanent use. Unless labels are well made and firmly fastened to the trees they are soon lost. The old kind, made of pine and ked with a rather hard lead-pencil upon a esh coat of white lead paint, is cheap and dur- able. Some prefer zine strips. For orchards is best to haye a chart. with each tree and its kind recorded, and not trust at all to labels. Cions may be cut as soon as the leaves fall, packed in saw-dust or sand, and put in a cool cellar until needed for grafting. Care should be taken in selecting the cions, cutting them only from thrifty and healthy trees. It is better to buy cions than to use any poor ones. Root ing is done during the winter, and, therefore, the stocks should be in aconvenient place. They are taken from the ground before it freezes, as- sorted, tied in bundles, and then placed in boxes with the roots coveredewith soil, and put ina cellar. The seeds oe trees ee Es pany are best preserved by mixt em with sani and ayes the boxes ina coo: and dry piace out of the way of the mice. The fences and gates of the orchard and nursery should be in good order at all times, and especially at this season, when a stray animal may get in and do serious damage. ‘THE FRUIT GARDEN. Blackberries and raspberries may be planted as late as the weather allows. These plants start into growth go early that it is better to set them in ‘autumn in. When new plants are desired they can be rendily raised from root cuttings. Roots are removed from old plants by cutting down near the base with a , and taking up the severed roots. These are cut into pieces three inches long, and placed in boxes of earth and put in a cool cellar; or, they may be buried outside, below the reach of frost, ies not stand. Root.cutting, wish tieir pieces | to run two or three nights, and therefore need { not make an appeal tu the audience to “come | several scenes, and | If the | cellar. The vines should be as ‘soon as leaves fall. Vines set this spring should have only one or two shoots, aceo to their vigor. There is no rule for praning an old vine. Enough buds should be left to. produce a sw cient number of shoots for leaves and fruit. Grape cuttings ate made from the branches pruned off, and should have two or three buds each; tie them in bundies carefully, label and pack in earth in the cellar, Many sorts, asthe Con- cord, will grow from such cuttings planted in the open ground in spring; those with harter wood require special treatment. The Delaware, for example, requires the bundles of cuttin: puddied in thin mud for half their low then set upside down in acald frame earth sprinkled among the bundles, an tothe depth of four inches. Before weather sets in the cold frame ix flied up with straw or forest leay 1d covered with boards The covering is removed in spring, and sashes placed on the frame, when roots will start from the cuttings, and they will then be | set ont. Ti should be put ze. Si but lightly directed o by smothering. THE KITCHEN AND MARKET GARDEN, | | So soon as a crop is removed the ground | Should be cleared of all rubbish, w plowed or ed. It is not best to | leave the soil with the rox We | in texture thorouzhly expc In short, do whatever the weather will now per- | mit to improve the garden and aid in the Inury of spring. The sashes should not be put upon | the cold frames until there is danger of freezing the plants. The cold frames are only for pre | tion and not for stimulating the growth of tie | Plants within. 4 circulation of airis important, d the sashes should be raised for this purpose on all warm days. Cellars in whieh roots are stored need to be kept cool, or the roots will shrivel and loose their freshness. If put in bar els and covered with sand, they are preserved more nearly like those in pits—the best metl of keeping roots fresh andy | should be stored be moe; | treneh may be du: deep enough ‘to bring the top ei with the soil. Set the plants in cl side, with no earth | between, an ii some straw and add more covering as the cold increases. Boards 0 y be put over the straw. ery inay be stored in | Some of the parsnips for pr now, and stored in sand freezing improy roots may te dug in iidwin Cabbages are be place heads down in rows, and two furrows turned upon them will do the bulk of the work. A common method is to dig a trench in a dry and set the eabbages in it heads down and etogether. As the weather gets cold put on | straw, afterwards and boards over | the whole. Carrots and beeis should be dag before ti injured. by frosts, and stored in same inanuer as given for other roots. Tur- nips should be liarvested next after the beets, d by treezin AND LAWN. in the cellar, able the most Evergreens show now to the best ad- re, and a diversity of form and shades of | green are very pleasing. These treesandshrubs | should be selected and planted in groups, ete., | largely for their winter 5 w beds and | paths may be laid out now, and much work of this Kind done that will add to the permanent | | Value of the ground, and also aid in the busy days of spring. GREENHOUSE AND WINDOW PLANTS. Plants that come in from the garden should have a period of rest. Pots of bulbs should be placed ina dark, cool cellar for several weeks to form good, strong roots. If there is no suitable cellar place the pots ina cold frame or pit, and | cover them with coal ashes. The object is to | keep the bulb warm enough to emit roots, and not so warm that the leaves and flower buds will start. Watering is one of the most import- ant labors of the greenhouse. A good thorouzh | wetting is better than keeping the surfac | that only, moist by frequently pouring oy alittle water. The water should not be mu colder than the air of the room, at best not most ice cold. asis too often the case Hans a plenty of light and air. They | abundant water, and frequent turning if | cht comes strongly from one side. No one | with house plants should be without some good climbers, such as the English and the so-called parlor or German ivy. Look out for insects and | Rill them before they have doue any serious harm. ering. A MEDICINE FOR WOMAN. INVENTED BY A WOMAN. PREPARED BY A WOMAN LYDIA E. PINKHAM'’S VEGETABLE COMPOUND Is 4 Positive Cure For all those Painful Complaints and Weaknesses 20 common to our best female population. It will cure entirely the worst formof Female Com- plaints, all Ovarian Troubles, Inflammation and Ulocra- tion, Falling and Displacements, and the consequent Spinal Weakness, and is particularly adspted to the Changes of Life. It will dissolve and expel Tumors from the Uterus in an early stsze of development. The tendency of Can- cerous Humors is checked very speedily by its use. It removes Faintness, Flatuleucy, destroys all Cra- vinge for Stimulants, and Relieves Weakness of the Stomach. It cures Bloating, Headache, Nervous Pros- tretion, General Debility, Sicepicsanest, Depression and Indigestion. ‘The feciing of bearing down, causing pain, weight and backache, is always permanently cured by its use. S?-PHYSICIANS USE IT AND PRESCRIBE IT FREELY._aa It will at all times end under all circumstances ac in harmony with the laws that govern the female rys- tem. For the cure of Kidney Complaints of either sex this ‘Compound is unsurpassed. LYDIA FE. PINKHAM'S VEGETABLE COMPOUND is prepared at 233 and 235 Western avenue, Lynn, Mass. Price $1. Six bettles for $5. Sent by mail in the form of pills, also in the form of lozences, on receipt of price, $1 per box foreither. Mrs. Pinkham freely answers all letters of inquiry. Send for pamphlet. Ad- dress as above, No family should be without LYDIA E. PINKHAWS LIVER FILLS. They cure conrtipatict, ASC, and torpidity of the Lver. 25 cents per box. §2°Sowp by aut Davocists._es 3-€0 P. HANSON HISS & CO. . —NEW DESIGNS— MANTELS ........ MIRRORS. WAINSCOTING. .-+»-CERAMICB, LOW’'S ART TILES FOR FIREPLACES, HEARTHS, WAINSCOTINGS AND BATHROOMS, e ° FIRST PREMIUM EVERYWHERE - : No, 45 N. CHARLES STREET, BALTIMORE. 010-2 H. WHEATLEY'S DEY SCOURING ESTABLISHMENT. win for eave in the Dis- See aioe J. 74 ~ BOOTS AND S : TOFS THe Gheat cLosine SALE STILL CONTINUES AT SINSHEIMER & Bi ROS, SOS SEVENTH STREET, BETWEEN © AND We will offer from Friday the following ad.titional GREAT BARGAINS: Ladiew’ Gost Rutton Shoes. Ladies’ Kid Button Shoes the low price of .. About 40 pairs Boys’ which are cheap st $2 Buckle Arctic > eave m T? you wish t y cell at SOS SEVENTH STREET, BETW 10 2ASONS WHY portunity edd so Oe at $1.00, Toilet Sippers, the et $1.20 Lo jose busines - ok ie ‘cred ones, ae EIMER & BRO, rEEN WAND TL IT 18 EVERY ONE'S INTEREST TO BUY $4 Tlond-ctitched Gaitens, $3 Fine Calf Button. $2 Nobby Eny a Stout Working Shoes. PURE GUM BOOTS ANI $5 Hand-stitched Boota, $4 Castom-made Boots, $3 Long-lenzed Boots. $2 Solid Work Boots. $1 Boys Boots, WHITE AND BLACK OPER, Ladies’ Best French Ki The Nobiest Wool-lined Cloth You find all 4th—You buy th 8 GAITER IN VER CONGR Burt's French Calf Ht ‘Misses’ an Children's Sprin ‘The above go Iren’s Shoes, ood Heels at low can on ___ SPORTING (oe Reever, ~ HEADQUARTERS FOR Di the marke ARCHERY AND FISHING TACKLES, AND LAW! INNIS, BICHE VELOCIPED DES, W alarge Received BASKE THE WHIT N'S CARRIAGE COMPAN Lace Boots, D SHORS. A SLIPPERS, 4 Button, NW. and cheap. GOODS. ‘O8. 403 AND 405 7TH STREET NORTHWEST. x OME Cheapest for Deauty, comfort apd durs)ilty in the get. be QUER sscrtment of Traveling and Candh y PROPOSALS. PROPOSALS FOR SUBSE axp Orrice PoRcHasixg a Stores, viz 10) Harrels Flour, 2,000 Pounds Corn’Meal. 3,000 Pounas Soap, hard than ten per ce tpann Ur BAulterations. ia 400 Pounds Sait, fine, ce Dat: s pores Astondard samp Samples of thea be subtitted with ti le stores to be de Envelopes should be nu for further information apply to 225-2t Capt. and) ROPOSALS FOR SUPPLIES. ‘Trrasvry DP Beneav or EXGxavi Proposals will be O'CLOCK M., WE: H, 181, for supp! onthes fron Janus the following F les Propowals. PAR AN Bealed TWELVE SEVENTH ik Ster) dlanndary, uu Of Peni, amd needed ‘yRographical Inks, Te: Dextrine, Grocers’ formation as to qualities, qu be furnished ‘on apyiligation to the CE STORES. ade from Spring whet. not tocontain more to be five froma veal. 1,200 Pounds Table Salt, tn 8-1b. pockets, s: mes Table ered by December 9, 1881. e1 "Proposals for the understen i. Be ©. 1A TMENT, D PRINTING, ist, et 1 Ph say uaptities and 3 signed. “Propceals on each item will be conridered weparutely, and preference given. t articles of domestic jroduction GF Manufacture, coud:tions of yrice and quality beityg eq al As it ienot convenient to store a large in the Bureau orders on the accented b yi of cooda ders vill be. made from time to time, as the actual need ay be de- tenpined, and as a rule for not lesk specitied on the schedules. Peytuent will be made in the ondi ree within ten days trot receipt cS ‘Those desiring blanks and inform on which class: th as awards will be turers of or dealers le articies ‘The right to waive defects and to reject any or 2! is reserved. nt __ INSURANCE. * Chickens FIRE 1324, ‘Tevet JORN A. BAKE THOS. J. ISH! ROBT I. FLEMING, WM. M. GALT, CHAS. CG. derriened do cee for. te name Wan ae Treasurer, Othice, No. 3254 Water Bee JORN LEETCH, F. F. ey RFE qualitied only to establiaie wing aud Pri {hiet of Bureau Engcaving aud Wri. INSURA! ¥F STREET. than the quantities y course of bust. approval ef the specify Oy d niautace lads pation 0. H. Tids NCE COMPA oun “COALI! Has eh sa eae ‘Woop! woop: Sue iS ¥ GOULD Picture