Evening Star Newspaper, September 1, 1883, Page 7

HOME MATTERS. A Pew Dnors of olf of lavender will save @ Nbrary fom mold. One drop will save a pint of ink. It ts Sarp that an infusion of hay will preserve the colors of buff lineas; an infusion of bran wiil do the same for brown linens and prints. Hickory Nut Caxs.—One-half-cup of batter, two cups of sugar, and four egzs, beaten sep- arately; three cups of flonr, one-half cup of Sweet milk, two teaspoontulsof baking powder two cups of hickory nut meats minced, oue te spoonful extract of vanilla. Sorr Crass Faie.—Tirow them into boil- ing water and let them boil about ten minutes. Drain aad dry them well, and remove the aponzy fle imen.” Season with pep- per and =alt Ngatly wit: flour. and roll them in bread crumbs. Fry them in boiling ep Bexts.—Boll them in a por- celidn kettle till they can be pierced with a silver fork; when cool cut lengthwise to size of medurn cuewnber; boil equal parts of vinezar an} suzar with a halt-tablespoonfal of ground cloves tied in a cloth to eacia ; pour voli- ing hot over the beets. A Detictors Pre is made by stoning and chop- Z cup of raisins, mixing with them the juice and rind of one lemon, the yelks of two ezgs. Bake with bottom crust only, and ingne of the whites of the eggs. You whole egy in the pie, and make it crust. Parrstax Caxe.—Five tumblers of sifted flour, three of white sugar, one-half tumbler of but- ter, one tumbler of milk, one teaspoonful ot soda dissolved ina little water. Mix weill.beat three ezus, yelks and whites beaten separately; one teaspeoutul of nutmeg. Beat all well tor ten minutes. Bake in a moderate oven. For Waste BLack on Navy Bioe ENS, i water (first having peeled and ), into whieh put a teaspoonful of ammonia. Wash the goods in this and rinse in cold blue water. Starch will not be needed. and, if at all prac! ule, they should be dried and ironed on the wrong side. Gis Corptat is made ef four pounds of red or white currants, eight ounces of ginger root, two ounces of bitter almonds. one-half of sweet almonds, three lemons sliced, jon of whisky. Wash the currants, cut er root in smail pieces, crack and split the nuts. pour the whisky over these ingredi- and let it stand ten days; then pour it off carefuily, add four pounds of loaf sugar and bottle it. Seep Bexs.—Two pounds of flour, eight ounees of dripping, six ounces of suzar, one ounee of caraway seeds, a teaspoonful and a half of y As these should rise quickly, mix ast cakes. When risen. roll out 1 floured board, cut with a When rather stale. these buns are niee split in half, toasted aad buttered, ciildren being especially fond of thea Porrep CiickeN.~This is an agreeable relish, and makes a pteasant luncheon when traveling. Take a roast fuwl and carve off all the meat. Take two slices of cold ham and chop it with chicken: add to this one-quarter pound of the id salt and pepper to taste; now zether to a paste; put the mix- nt: elosely. “It will keep in en days, or long enough for any ourney. To Have nice hard butter for the table in summer, without the nse of ice, put atrivet or any open flat thing with legs in a saucer, put on this trivet the plate of butter.and fill the saucer ot so that be within the sancer . Pag the hole i flower-pot with idrench the ilower-pot with water, i place watil mornin, or if done at ast the butter will be hard at supper To Wast printed goods which have a black ad with a white pattern: Dissolve two mate of potash. three ounces: of common nd two and a@ half ounces of sal-soda in a wash-boiler of water heated to boiling point. Put the dri this hot tor five minutes, and frequently turn and ‘Then wast it thoronghly in clean w black cround will not be dal! and the white portion of the gouds will it and clear. Rose CxKe.—One-half enp of bntter, one cup of suzar (beat to a cream). add two enps of flonr, two teaspoonfuls of baking powder, same of essence oflemon, and the whites of tive exes, st ether. Take analine, si 2, a thin cloth and pour a teasp: of boiling water on it; take of cake half a tea- cup, pour the analine on until you have a pretty Toe cuior, put in alayer of crke, drop in here and there of your rose as oddly as you ean. then a layer of cake, and so on until all are used. Bake in a slow oven. ALMosD Spoxce Cake.—Pound ih a white mortar. until very fine, one ounce of bitter eimonds; take ont and put into a bowl, pour over them four tablespoonfuls of boiling water, and let them simmer three or four minutes. To the yeiks of twelve eggs, well beaten. add slowly oue pound of sieved sugar. and beat light: then, after w the almonds dry, add them. Beat until very stiff the whites of the eggs. and miito the yelks and suyar, alternating with the flour. Stir well out very hghtly together, as ing destroys the lightness of sponge cake. ein tins with upright sides, aud in a mod- ‘ate oven. Paxey Tea Caxes.—Sift one pound of flour om the pastry-board: makea hoilow in the ce: tspoonful of saitand mix to a aste, adding the yelks of three ne gill Of cream, after the butter has chly incorporated with the other in- g ts. When well mi let the paste stand for one hour, then rol! it out a quarter of an inch thek, eut invariou il shapes with faney cutters, put thelittle cakes on a buttered baking pan, brush t! ry with a beaten ex. strew on the tops » raisins or blanched aluwends. ate oven until a ligt br © chopped citron, Bake in moder- *n and cool on @ Two cups of pow- ‘upful of butter, four ilk,one-haif teaspoon- fal of soda. one teaspoonful of cream tartar, three cups of four. Bake in thin layers as for Jelly cake, and spread between them. wien coid, the following mixture: One-half pint ot mili (Sweet), two small teaspoonfuls of corm stareh, one exg. one teaspoonful of vanilla, one-half cup of sugar. Heat tre milk to boiling and stir in the corn starch, wet with a little coid milk, take outa little and mix gradually with the beaten exz and sucar, return to the rest of the enstard and boil. stirring constantly until quite thick. Let it cool before you flavor. then on cake. Flavor both cake and wing with venilla. Comvzx Icz Cacau.—Make @ custard, with- ut any favor. of a pint of cream and foor yelks @fergs. Put into this four ounces of freshly- Toasted Mocha coffee berries; they should, if Possible, be used hot. Cover up the stewpan closely with its lid, putting @ napkin over to keep iu the steam. "Let the custard stand for an hour, strain and aweeten, and when cold put it into @ freezing pot. Cream thus prepared willnot take the color of the coffee, and when earefully made Is very delicate and delicious. Coffee ice cream is_aiso made with a strong in- fusion of coffee. To make the infusion. pnt two eunces of ground coffve into a French cafetiere and pour over it a gill of fast boiling water. When the infusion has all ran throuch, boil it up and ponr it over two more onnces of coflee. Put the infusion thus obtained to a pint of sweetened cream or custard and freeze. Ebis.e aNp Powsoxep Mcsmoous.—The stem of a genuine mushroom is short, thiek and white, marked ander the head with a promi- nent rine. The head ts white and regularly convex, the edges are bent inward, the flesh is white and tirm, the under leaves are deep pink, and separated as they approach but do not touch the stem. When the mushroom grows old the netike Shape changes; it becomes brown, flat and Sealy. The under leaves also nm. It is better when eaten young. with warts aud other mem stances, whieh adhere to the upper si 3 ey are heavy and spring from a species bulb; they generaliy oe in wuschion, When the mushrooms are doubtful spriukle a little aait on the wader or spongy part. If it ture yellow they are poisonous; if black they are Sood. —_——— A carefal collection of the facts in revard to the absence of Presidents from the seat of zov- ernment during their respective terms of eiice mows that Jefferson was the champion absen- ce L under | My wife and I had givenmmach thought te the question of house rent, and had decided that we should not be justified in exceeding £120 a year, but we hoped to find » pretty little place in the country at that rent. Our requirements were modest. “Give me a well-cooked chop and a good glass of sherry, and Iean rough it anywhere,” said the intending traveler. We only wanted 2 thoroughly pleasant house, wituln easy distance of a country town where there was good society, areally good garden. a stable and coach-house, anda few fields. We had looked at many houses, when one day. after a morning of disappointment, we saw charming one standing some little distance from the road, and a notice informed us it was to be We went to see it. It was simply perfect and was surrounded by a garden which I loved at first sight. It was sheltered trom evi cold wind, open to every benign influence, and full of the most beautiful old-fashioned flowers, all growing as ifthey had been at home there for years! A single glance showed me that some which I bad long been vainly try. ing to cultivate were flourishing here with happy indifference to human enre. My wife was delighted with the house—so was I—bnt it was the garden which completely car- Tied me away. It was not very larze, but there were wide open walks, and pretty, secluded paths, und roses and trait trees, a lawn, and maxnificent flower borders. Having once seen bores garden, I never could be satisfied with any other. “It's pretty, sir,” said the housekeeper, ob- serving how lovingly my eyes dilated.” “A many pretty flowers grow here. They grow of their own accord like, tor the gardener has little trouble with them.” “The gardener!” I exclaimed; “I never let people of that kind run riot among my flowers!” “Oh, lor, sir, well to be sure! But there has always been a gardener here. That’s his cottage there, behind the trees, and she pointed out a pretty, red cottage across the lawn. Little was visibie but the tops of some dormer windows, tor a high trellis covered with roses screened it from view. “What's the rent of Fairlawn?” I asked in sudden fear, for the little bit 1 saw of the gar- ner’s cottage was so well built that it alarmed me hundred and sixty pounds, sir.” My wife's countenance fell. With prompt de- cision she took off her spectacles, put them carefully in their case, and stowed them away in her bag as no longer needed. “One hundred and sixty pounds,” I repeated, very sadly. “Yes, my dear, that. settles it,” sald my be- fe; but she nad no idea ‘what regret [ feeling. suppose it’s no use thinking of it,” sald T, with a sigh, “but I never saw flowers do so well in any garden berore.” “Come, John,” said my wife. “It's only tiring ourselves for no purpose—we had better go. You know as well as I do that we ought not to saddle ourselves with such @ high rent.” “Stop! I have an idea,” said I Joyously. it reduce the rent by letting that cot- loved wii y ‘Se you might, Sir.” interposed the house- keeper. “It has six good rooms and a kitchen; it was let a littie while back to the Curate. vs on the last year or two the gardener has had it.” We went to the cottage, and when I saw what an excellent house it was I decided to take Fair- lawn. L settied the matter at once, and in ten days began to move in. I gave the cottage a uaine likely to inflame ardent and poetical minds; cailed it Eglantine Cottage, and adver- tised it freely. It had a veranda covered with roses, and a pretty little garden of its own in front, sloping down to the high road. We had established ourselves at Fairlawn, brought our dear only dauzhter home from school, and re- turned most of the cails made on us by the rest- deat gentry, before we had an application for At last a gentleman came—a man ad thirty, with bushy, brown hair, keen, inquiring, gray eyes, and a singularly intelligent face. His name was Shute. He had stuuied for the Bar, bat was forced to live in the country on account of his wife's health, and now devoted himself to art. They had no children, and did hot object to a forty-pound rent, though I myself had feared it was rather too'much. All Was soon settled, provided the references he save me were satisfactor: They were most ctory. Each ot the two responsible and well-to-do gentlemen to whom I wrote had the greatest pleasure m tes- tifyiny to the high character of the gentleman who wished to be my tenant, and each concluded | by saying that such t ony on his part was: | almost Unnecessary. seeing that the said Zen- eu was one of the Shutes of Sheffield. I read this, and straightway a fine flayor of re- spectability attached itself tomy tenant—he was one of the Shutes of Sheeld. This being the case, Idedicated to his enjoyment the iarger | part ofa lure hamper of tine ferns which had been sent me from Cumberiand, and went and planted them myself in telling spots. That done, | tied up bis roses so that his wife might have the full benetit of their beauty. And now all care was over, and we were Teaily happy at Fairlawn. My wife had her pony carriage and explored the neighborhood, and I had my garden and my box. of beuks from the library. Mr. Shute's furniture began to arrive, and Mr. Shute himself eame to see all made ready for his delicate wife. He staid with us, but le was so busy that we did not see much of him. He was, however, a very pleasant feliow, and we liked him. “I won't trouble you with my furniture-ar- ranging difficulties, my dear Mr. and Mrs. Pe- yeril,” said he, “but there is one little favor I would like to askof you. Would you mind hay- ing that trellis lowered a little? It would be such a treat to my poor wife to have just a glimpse of your exquisite garden from her sofa. She isso unfortunate as to be almust a cun- firmed Invalid.” “I shall be very glad—” I began. “Thank you! would thank you! I feit sure you be kind. Shail “I give ordersto tiave ved, or will you?” i" I had imagined that he said Now, I like to throw oif my coat at when I am working in my gar- den—but one can’t behave ill to a delicate woman. “She is comi is no time tu lose. | Ibad not the courage to plead for its only | being lowered, huw the windows of Eglan- | ed my happy hunting-grounds where [ had hitherto been so fuil of liberty, and y heart ached for the poor roses irown down with the trellis, Mr. Shute began to pluck them, and said he would put them in water to help to make the house gay for his wife. Then he threw them down, exclaiming: ‘After all, she won't be here till to-morrow. I am sure you will give me a handful of fresh ones in the morning. “You have roses of you own,” said I impa- tently, for he had flung down all those he had Just athered—and it infuriates me to see flow- ers ill-treated. “I know | have,” sald he ealmly; “but I don't want to touch mine. They make the front of the house look well. My wife, Mr. Peveril, is quite the creature of impressions! Come and see how you like the look of the little place now = the ao in” ‘verything looked most charming. Tne rooms were large and low, with low. wide-latticed win- dows and window seats, The view into my gar- den was delicious. { never it the Shutes paid too much rent after I had seen that. Their furniture was of the Anne” time, and suited the rooms to nn. tine Cot- ely prett ‘airlawn. I began to fee! unbounded respect for this scton of the Sehutes of Sheffield, for all this delightful rear had a Konooppeg easily. There was very little furniture drawing-room; the floor was covered with Indian matting and Per- sian rugs; the curtains were of Japanese muslin; the walls hung with the most exquisite water colors in perfectly simple wooden trames. There were twelve or thirteen magnificent Tur- fers! TI had only one. the gift of my rich uncle, and I was accustomed to beeen lipled serene possession. Mr. Shute actually had hirteen, and @ Girtin and a Barrett as welll Besides this there were shelves full of beautiful china plates. I had never seen such adaiuty ubode before. Such richly hung walls were a most agreeable sight toalandiord! Full of comforting inner warmth, I exclaimed, “Well, there ts no fear of Mrs. Shute not admiring this!” “You think so?” said he; “Tm so glad! I have had to be very careful whatI did. You see, she Is quite the creature of impression. T should be miserable if she said the cottaze was not pretty, By the bye, did you know that she was one of the Wilmots of Taunton?” Now Iwas not going .to stand that. I had made up my mind to feel a great respect forthe Shutes of Sheffield. and, if they all had as good an idea of turaishing as Edward Shute, they were emphatically worthy of it; but I was not going to allow myself to be so much Impressed by any other family. Besides what were the Wilmots of Taunton to me? I was well ac- ae with Rent dt enter _— eter I new every panay worthy ofa place inm len, but—I had never heard of the Wiimots of Taunton. We went overall the rooms; one was fitted up = studio. a Shate’s easel was setup, his color-box and palettes were: jbut,of course, | he had not barun So week phir ea ,“t shall be giad when I’ get her safely here,” said he. “By the bye, how amJ te fetch her “loweres | and waist: x to-morrow,” said he; “there pony carrit I said I would lend it to him; but I wished he had not said the pony carriage; if he had said your pony carriage it would not have looked so much fikea vehicle which belonged just as much a asto 2 tal, . ook Mrs. Siute was a Tangaid. by woman of eight and twenty with fair ar whick was byno means all her own—and dull, blue eyes. She spent most of her time on the sofa. I do sowish that we had & little bit of ground at the baek of our house,” said Mr. Shute one day to my wife; “if it were ever so small. My poor never gets out; she can't sit in our garden, for it is so near the road, and being so much in the house is so dull.” Having said thie, he looked anxiously into her eyes to see how much Christian charity she possessed. My wife, poor dear woman, was taken by sur- prise, and’ replied, “I wish Mrs. Shute would use our garden sometimes—when my husband Js not working In it, 1 mean, for when he ts y he likes to be careless about appearances.” “Oh! thank you. How truly kind!” exclaimed Mr. Shute. “Then we will have a key made. You jw there isa door from our back yard Into your garden, and we will have a key made for it at once, uniess you have one you can lend - And _ now my poor wite knew what she had done, for, of course, it was out of the question for an Invalid like Mrs. Shute to walk all the way round by the lane to the proper entrance, and yet, if she had a key and could come and go when she liked, all my pleasure in my garden would be gone. ou won't go when my hus- band 1s at work?” she sald in desperation to Mrs. Shute, and then trusted to her delicacy. What a poor, weak thing to trust to! They got the key—they used it. Mrs. Shute, who was not strong enough to goround to the proper entrance, meandered for miles along our gravel-paths and lawn. I could always trace her presence, for she plucked every flower she fancied, and flung it as quickly away, and I saw my slaughtered innocents Iying bruised and withered fn the sun, and could have slain her intarn. Mrs. Schute might be the creature of impression, but the flowers were the creatures of impression, too, and bore the marks of her ridiculous high-heeled shoes as she crushed them down in her Indifference and passed on. For some little time she respected my feelings and never entered the garden when I was at work. Soon, however, she came when she chose; and frequently I, hard at work in my gray flannel shirt, would see a sylph-like form arrayed in spotless white glide toward me, which planted a camp-stool withina yard of me, and seemed determined to enter into a pro- longed conversation. If I moved away Mrs. Shute was certain to follow me. It was best totry not to mind her being there, and let her sit admiring her pretty feet and open- worked stockings, and uttering weak little re- marks. She was always affable. “I see, Mr. Peveril, you are quite au bout des doigts with all your flowers!” said she one day, most kindly. “Hm,” I replied. ‘Yes, I like flowers.” “So do I! I worship them! J even admire alot of great ugly ferns we have Inour own garden!” Thus did the creature of impression speak of the lovely rare ferns which I had sacriticed to the tenants who were to help me pay my rent. “Don't you like ferns?” I said, half inclined to make an effort to get them back again. “Well, yes, In the woods; but [ like Pelar-r Fgoniums In gardens, nothing loaks better. If Thad plenty of money I'd just put hundreds of them in front of our house. What a thing money is, Mr. Peveril! and there are actuall; some people who are so crowded with it that they dont know what to do with it but make an ostentation ot it.” “fam very sure I should know what to do with mine, ir I had a little more.” was my thought—for I was forced to endure this indy’s company for want of a miserable forty pounds a year. y She perhaps found me unusually dull, for she said she would “stroll about a bit,” and. hasti! knotting up a “guinea switch of hair’ whic) was rolling down her back, she went away. Presently she returned with the Grosvenor book which I was looking forward to the treat of reading when my work was done. She had obtained it by thrusting in her arm at the open window and removing it from the table where it was lying awaiting my return. She and her husband too were extremely fond of possessing themselves of whatever they happened to want. She borrowed a book in this nefarious way. He came in a panic—his wite was ill; would we let him have half a dozen bottles of old port? Or he was suddenly seized witn admiration of one of our water-eotors. We had three good ones, but he was not satisfied with anything less tuan our Turner, and asked it we would not allow him to take it to the Cottage for an hour ortwo and place it on an easel near his wife's sofa—it would help to while away the weary hours, and she was the— Rather than hear him say that she was the creature of impression I hastened away to get the picture for him. His wife did not care for pictures; why did he borrow them for her? She did not care for books either. She was entirely uneducated; and though possibly a Wilmot of Taunton, she certainly was not a Indy. She wished to be pleasant, though, and was very fond of sympathizing with me whenever she happened to observe certain small green insects which she catled “nasty afrites on tay roses. Had she been reading “The Persian and’Turkish Tales?” I wished an ill-disposed afrite would carry her off—but nothing ever did earry her away from my side but the sight of the gardener going toward the kitchen garden. Then she jid ina moment, “Dear Mr. Peveril, Fdward and [are so fond of fresh vegetation, may I go and ask that man to cut off some little trifle for the Cottage?” and I, rejoicing at the mome: tary good fortune. always said, “Oh, pray do. And she went and commanded him to bear to her abode cauliflowers and peas, lettuces, apri- cots, or whatever else was agreeable tu th ate of a creature of impression. For my part, T should not have cared what went to the Cottage So long as nothing came from It—to sit by my side, [ it my wife said too much went! They had new-laid eggs, milk, cream and more butter than we could well apare, and they did not pay as they got it, but let the account run o je patient,” said I: “don't complain and offend them. We should have been very hard up without these Shutes, for 1 have spent more than I ought on the honse and garden and it 18 an Immense comfort to have such ric tenants. They must be rich, for those picture on their walls are worth thousan Don't let us think of the Shutes. Let us enjoy our hap- piness!” Our dear daughter had got a lover—not a de- clared one, bat one who wasevidently in earnest. He was a thoroughly consclentions, upright man, and had a small estate which had been io his family for a couple of centuri Our joy about this made us tolerant of the Shutes. The young folks met constantly, and the more we saw of Mr. Ducie the more we liked him. Per- haps it was a lucky thing that Mrs. Shute liked sitting on my lawn better than driving with my wite. for if had used our pony earriage my daugiiter would have had to stay at home, aud Mr. Ducie woutd have had fewer opportunities of seeing her. One day, after irritating me by calling my penstemons antirrhinoms, when I should have disliked to hear her bestow such an appellation on my snap-dragoons, she, who kuew noth- Ingof our secret hopes, suddenly exclaimed: “Mr. Peveril, don’t you think that Mr. Ducie who comes to your house is a very charming young man? We have asked him to the Cot- tage. and he is coming! Thereare agreat many nice young men in this’ neighborhood! going to invite my sister to come and stay with me—she fs such a nice girl, and so Lewsutifal:” T could see the connection of ideas. She was; going to invite her sister to the Cottaze in the hope of her fascinating some one—most ably our Mr. Ducie! remained to us but toresign ourselvesto her have it. My poor Dorothea! 1 stghed heavily. That marriage on which we had set ourhearts was not to be. Mrs. Shute’s sister, a Wilmot of Taunton, and probably also a creature of impression, would come and win Mr. Ducie’s affections from my daughter, and my wife and I would be such fools that even we wonld allow ourselves to be drawn into doing our part toward pro- ducing that result. 1 was silent for some time; 1 was afraid she would notice it; I did not want her to know how we felt about Mr. Ducie, so T said, ‘I suppose husband is hard at work this fine morni “Yes, he is busy copyin; mean,” onc bee semene eae en »” sald T; but it “Copying nature, I sup} occurred to me that considering he was a laad- bet painter, Mr. Shute staid @ great lors. Miss Wilmot came. Tosy as Mrs. Shute was airived than the Shi pony carriage freely, tend them our lawn for a tennis they wished to give, to introduce Lovie Aird _ her. “They want to Invite I am} “Say no more,” sald I, draw the line some: siT up Mr. Ducie to thém.” le was there even while we were reas he told us of his Melo ig: siege hens said ‘thor Miss Witmot, 4 Very c! girl, thor It was easy to that, Mike the doy in “Pickwick,” “he ‘whicerer;” but how Jong would he continaé to pat my Dorothea m the first place if those, Shutes began to angie a in earnest ? pag rer was that they always managed to get what they He to ‘to ie great more said it was from the Shutes’ windows he could sometimes see Dorothea walking in our garden. I did not know. Why did he not cowe to us? He did come to us, and sometimes asked Dorothea to stroll with him in the but tho sooner did they go Miss Wilmot joined them. I called the latter “the Abominable, that uninvited came,” but how could the mind revert to poetry in the midst of such vexation as this? While everything was in this wretchedly uncomfortable state I received a letter from my uncle—the uncle I did not want to offend. It was rather cold, and it endedthus: “I think, John, you must now see that I had every rea- on to warn you against taking that foolishly expensive house of yours, but you need not have sold your ‘Turner,’ and you ought to have had at least another hundred for it. Besides, I would infinitely rather have lent you some money myself than have that exquisite araw- ing go out of the family!” It had not gone out of the family—I had not sold it, and never meant to do so! It had been an act of great self-sacrifice to let it go to the Cottage for afew days, but now I had got it back and would keep it. My uncle's letter made me feel inclined to go and look at the drawing. T took it down to enjoy it thoroughly. It had been taken out of its frame. Why had that been done? I at once went to the Cottage to aak the question. The ladies were ont. They had hired a carriage and gone to spend the day with Mr. Ducie's mother. They were evidently In terrible earnest about that affair. and it was a most significant feature that they had hired a carriage, instead of insisting on having ours, “Mr. Shute is in the studio, Sir, will you walk Up stairs?” said the servant. I walked up stairs, but he was not there. On the tables ‘and easels I saw a number of water- color drawings in various stages of progress, all ot which he was copying from others. Mr. Shute copied Turner drawings and sold them ss originals! I saw it in a, moment. And he had copled mine! Or’ had he, perhaps, sold the original and sent me back theeopy? Then the drawings on his walls were copies, too, and I had not such a well-to-do ten- ant after all, for those Turners on the walls had been my sheet-anchor of safety. Perhaps the rent of this cottage, for which I had sacrificed so much, would never be paid, and my cream and new-laid eggs, my fruit, my vegetables, my peace of mind, even my hopes for the future, were all to be as nothing. Letters with foreign stamps lay on the table, doubtless orders from the antipodes for valuable drawings, which my clever tenant had no difficulty in supplying, and even now his wife and her sister were twining their meshes round— I looked up suddenly, and saw fromtheShutes’ window my Dorothea and Mr. Ducie walking in the garden below, hand in hand. Joy took pos- session of my heart. Hehad fled from the two Wilmot sirens in search: of my Dorothea! We never saw the Shutes again. That same evening they left Eglantine Cottage. moruing two emissarige of the law took posses- sion of it. Mr. Shute Dies deeply in debt, but he had taken away nearly everything that’ was valuable. All that yemained to satisfy his creditors was.a certain amount of Indian’ mat- ting, two pair of fliméy eu bottomed chairs, empty pi some furniture too heavy to be moved. The china plates which had looked so imposing were cracked in every direction and neatly mended. Not.one of them was worth.a shilling! Every thing else was much tle sanfe. This little par- adise of estheticism had faded away in an hour or tw My wife and I were So happy that we did not grieve over our lost reat. uncle lent_me £100, and three months aftesward came to Dor- othea’s wedding, on which occasion he satisfied himself, and me too, that my Turner was still on. my wails, and that the estimable Mr. Shute of Shemeld had contented himself with making a copy.—Belgravia. ——_——_~e»_____ Men’s Fail Fashions. “Twregard to gentlemen's styles for the com- ing season a prominent New York tailor said toa Tribune reporter: “I think the best way of telling you how the styles are going to run next season is to say that they will be the same as last year, only less so. By that I mean that @ more staid and conservative feeling is spring- ing up and though uo radical chauge will be made trousers will not be so tight, coats not so long or go pointed in the tails, and patterns for waistcoats and trousers not so pronounced. The regular English fashion ot wearing coat and waistcoat of one kind of goods and trousers of another will prevail to a large extent. It Is a sensible fashion, too, for a coat and waistcoat will outlast two or three pairs of trousers. Froek coats, generally known as Prince Al- berts, will be extensively worn and divide the honors with four-button cutaways, sack coats having gone entirely out ot fashion except for country, seaside and clearly informal occasions. “As to the materials to be worn, I cannot be 80 decisive, for our importations have not yet reached us. Judsing by the samples, however. I think I am justified in stating that dark gmall checks, and over-checks, varying shades of cork- serews, and fine, dark tweeds, with small, scarcely discernible spots of white or red, wili be mostly sought after. Looking further ahead to the winter, I am inclined to think that friezes will be the most fashionable material for overcoats, which will be cut as frock coats or double-breasted sacks,” It is a fact worthy of notice that the only ar- ticle of men’s dress in the fashioning of which the wearer's taste plays no part ia the hat. The styles of hats are due altogether to the taste and faney of th four hours before the new st is displayed ft the hatter’s window no one but the “finisher” knows what shape it will assume. It is im- pesrible now to give an idea of what expanse of curling brim, or curve of the bell-erown, will adorn the heads of our gilded youth in Sep- tember. Shoes will follow the fashion of the cloth clothes and he less pointed than heretofore. ‘They will be made as plain, and simple as_possi- ble. with patent-leather vamps and kid or black silk uppers laced tn front. Cellars will still be high “all-rounders,” and the neckties will be quiet silk checks tied in a sailor's knot with no pin of any sort or descrip- ton. A Season of Sorrow. From Life. Miss Gushington (to young widow whose hus- band has left a large fortune)—That is the 14th mourning costume I have seen, yon wear in three days, and each lovelier and more becoming than the other. Z Young widow—Oh! my dear, I have 40—but | such a bother as they were to have made! At one time I almost wished that poor, dear Geor, hadn't diedt , = aan ee a Horse Rivne ts much better exercise than } walking. The muscles of the arms and chest are exercised In gutding the Horse, those of the back are called Into play in keeping the balance, and those of the lower jimbs in springing from the saddle. The mind, toa, is diverted from thought both by the necessity for ordering the animal's movements and by the rapid paseage of objects on the road..’ In fact, no mode of ex- ercise is so deilghtful as horse-riding, and Fan- nie Kemble ‘“‘had reason” in always “speaking ofa woman on horsel as ‘a happy woman.’” It is not easy, hor middle-class people to employ this method proving their health and gpirits. “The prin- cipal objection,” as Oliver Wendell Hoimes says, “18 of a financial character. Riding is for those who are born with a sllver-mounted bridle In their hand, and can ride as much and as often as they like, without thinking all the time they hear that steady grinding sound, as the horse's jaws triturate with calm lateral movements, of the bank bills and promises to pay, upon whieh it ts notorious that the profil- gate animal in question feeds day and night.” A horse, indeed, is rather a tyrannical vant. He will catch cold, if you keep him too long, or like Goldsmith’s as mu yourself. Thi the best of husbands, is not ing at times. Finally, he wants ‘he swants dressing for;and if youcan half an hour at a time for exercise, undoubted obstacles to horse-riding as means of taking it.—London Society. = Water Dog. ‘From the Louisville Commercial. “The water moccasin ts dend,” etd Laeten Alexander, the well-known draggist and snake- fancier. ‘It died yesterday, and I woulda’t have taken the whole Tenth Ward with the ‘school trusteeshtp thrown in for it.” “What killed it?” asked the reporter, to whom Lucien was pouring out his grief. ‘He was scalded to death. I had the mocea- sin and swater dog in the jar together, but somehow or other they couldn't get along with each other. They were continually fighting over the food I gave them, and yesterday they concluded to settle their differences forever. ‘They sparred around in the water for a while, neither one seeming to have the advantage, but finally the water dog executed a flank move- ‘ment on the moceasin and swallowed about three repented ‘free bieedie he laid perfectl: casin him: ly quiet and commenced pumping himeelf full of wind, like a bellows. As he swelled up the water dog backed off, but it was too late. It was like pulling a boot off a swollen foot. The moc- casin kept on pomuine = the water dog con- tinued to expand. Ashe out you could hear bis ribs crack, and I expected every mo- ment to see hin = into a thousand pieces. but suddenly the swelling for the moccasin had gone the full length of sive powers and he commenced to contract. luced to his ordinary size, the water dog lost no time in slip- ping but he was so weak from the terrible strain he had received that for a moment or two he was heey The npteggr took er age of t! and turning on the dog swallow him whole: Then followed one of the most re- markable occurrences ever witnessed. The dog, cuter scared almost to death, began galloping back and torth thefulllength of the moccasin. By the waving ridges on the snake every move- ment of the dog could be told. Back and forth hewent until the friction inside of the snake must have been terrible, tor the water began to = warm from the heat of the moccasin’s body. very time the dog would gallop towards the head of the snake the snake would close its mouth, causing the dog to turn and run away. This performance was kept up for folly an hour, during which time the water grew bolling hot, and the whole skin peeled off the snake. Then the flesh got soft, and the first thing I knew he went all to pieces like a chunk of soft soapin wash basin. The dog soon shook off the rem- nants of the snake which adhered to it, but he, like the moccasin, was scalded to death also. You see that grease on the top of that jar of HOSTET- TER.S CELEBRATED STOMACH Ay DOWLIE AL! THEROT CABLE CBRE, , nw, I ND GEORGE: we Do aT rt N SEPTEMBER SEVENTEENTH. ct qT rf fu trout of toe eee BB < bed property, vis 3 if : E x a front of . ae = cy In fever and ague districts, in tropical and other re- sions visited by epidemica, and indeed {n all jocalities ‘where the conditions sre unfavorabie to heaith, this famous vegetable invigoraat and alterative, HOSTET- TEK'S STOMACH BIITERS, has been found a poteat safeguard even to feeble constitutions and framile frames, while awa cure for indigestion, biliousnes and Kindred complaints, it is without a rival. For sale by all Druggists ana Dewars generally. epl Genuvir & Co-s Where then is always effective. of all dincharges, recent Sid io found grontiy eapetice torah teen tie io y aerien: oo Tables, covered with pl Knowa. ‘aut Drugyasts. wada-wasly | Haudsonie Walmut Chamber Sulina Walnut Marble-top Bullet, Dining-room Chairs, ‘brace Wamut Chtffonter, very petty; Hall Rack, mirror back. Walnut Pilar F-xtension Tx! Kasco Gnctaineesh Lemmergene woe Curtains end 1-atnte Waingt Library Tableg, Walnut Writing Desi, Boston Dr Tounces, French Couches, Walnut Folding Chair. jaroon Sleepy Hollow, Walnut Hall Chairs. Aeclining Chair, upholstered tr leather. Boy Brussoin Tapestry, Tngrain aud other Carpets, eg lata, o Mata, Mantel Mirrors. Blankets, CG Eres cocoa BREAKFAST. GRATEFUL—COMFORTING knowtedige of the natural laws which 8 of digestion and nutrition, and by ication of the fine Of well wo iy Sinyrna iuues and Ash Chamber 81 ng, 200 Pumercrus to mention. ction of furniture is im perfect order water? Well, that’s all that’s left of my mocca- sin and water-dog.” ———_+e+_______ - The Newhaven Fishwives. H. E., in the September Atlantic. Most picturesque of all the figures to be seen in Edinburg are the Newhaven fishwives. ‘With short, full, blue petticoats, reaching barely to their ankles; white blouses and gay kerchiefs; big, long-sleeved cloaks of the same blue cloth, fastened at the throat, but flying loose, sleeves and all, as if thrown on in haste; the girls bare- headed; the married women with white caps, standing up stiff and straight ina point on the top of the head; two big wicker-work wheels, one above the other full of fish, packed securely on ther broad shoulders, and held in place by a stout leather strap passing round their fore- heads, they pull along at a steady, striding gait, up hill and down, carrying weights that It taxes a man’s strength merely to lift. In fact, it is a fishwite’s boast that she will rua with @ weignt which it takes two men to put on her back. By reason of this great strength on the part of the women, aud their immemorial habit of exercising it; perhaps also from other causes far back in the early days ot Jutland, where these curious Newhaven fish- ing folk are said to have originated, it has come sbont that the Newhaven men are a singularly docile and submissive rave. The wives keep all the money which they receive for the fish, and the husbands take what is given them—a singu- jar reversion of the situation in most commani- ties. 1 did not believe this when It was told me, so I stopped three fsh-wives one day, and, with- out mincing matters, put the question direct to them. Two of them were young, one old. The young woman laughed saucily, and the old wo- man smiled, but they all replied unhesitatingly, that they had the spending of all the money. ‘Ita a’ spent i!:the hoos,” said one, anxious Rot tobe thought too selfish—~‘it’s a’ spent 1” the hoos. The men, they cam home an’ tak their sleep, an’ then they'll be aff agen.” “It ‘ud never do tor the husbands to stoop in tha’ city an’ be spendin’ a’ the money,” added the old woman, with severe emphasis. Whoever wouid see the New Haven fishwives at their best must be on the New Haven wharf by 7 o’clock in the morning ona day when the trawlers come in and the fish is sold. The scene isa study fora painter. The fish are in long, narrow boxes, on the wharf, ranged at the base of the sea-wail; some sorted out in piles, cach kind by itself; skates, with their long’ tails, which look vicious, as if they could kick; hake, witches, brill, sole, flounders, huge ¢atfish, crayfish. and herrings by the ton. The wali is crowded with men, Edinburgh fishmongers, come to buy cheap on the spot. The wall is not over two feet wiae, and here they stand, lean over, jostle, slip by to right and left of each other, andran up and down in their eager haste to catch the eye of one auctioneer. or to get first speech with another. The wharf is crowded with women,—an army in blue, 200, 300 at a time; white caps, bobbing, elbows thrusting, shriil voices crying, flery bine eyes shining, it isasight worth going to Scotland for. If one has had an affection for Christie Johnstone, it is a delightful return of his old ad- miration tor ner. A dozen faces which might be Christie's own are flashing up from the crowd; one understands on the instant how that best of good stories came to be written! A man with eyes in his head and pen in his hand could not have done less. Such fire, such hon- esty, such splendor of vitality, kindle the women’s faces, To spend a few days amonz them would be to see Christie Johnstone drama- tized on all sides, The Language of Light-onses. From the Philadelphia Ledger. For instance, a light of any order can be fixed flashing red, or it may flash out red and then flash white, with a given interval between flashes. A fixed white light may be varied by white flashes, which are produced by concen- trating ali the light possible for a few seconds through a disk of white glass, or it may be va- ried by projecting the beam of light through a disk of red glass, and it may be varied still fur- ther by making the flashes alternately red and white. All these conditions may be so varied by the duration of the finsh and the interval between the flashes that no two lights on the same part of the coast can be mistaken for another. A vessel from Europe, making for Delaware bay, seeing a light anywhere in that netghbor- hood, can determine which it is by its charac- teristics. Ifit 1s a flashing white. it is Barne- light; if it ts a fixed white light red, it must be the one next south, on Tucker's beach; if it is a great fixed white light and seen as far as the curvature of the earth will allow, then it is evidently the first order light shown from the 160-toot tower at Atlantic City; if the light Is fixed red, and shows itselr between two others of much ter Tr, then it must be the Hereford light, and the great 5 rs ee ines = carts be eons Cape f ight-ship om the north- east end of “Five Fathom bank, showing two lights, one red and one white, and its fellow on the other end of the bank, showing two Nights, both white, warns the ship away from the shoal water in the offing, while the fixed white light of the highest power, which is now the majorit; for ajority of | bls take light, sna to steer an exact course for the next cont | capital white or fixed red; it can be flashing white- or | and worthy the atteution of buyers. ulead WALTHt B. WILLIAMS, Trustes, ‘T. COLDWELL, Keal Estate Auctioncer, .. — ‘RUSTEES' SALE OF A TWO-STORY FRA’ TROTORE AND DWITLTNG. No. 1607 ELEVEN SiRELT NOKTHWES. By virtue of a deod of trast, dated July 28th, 1880, duly recorded in Liber 946, folio 483, et) +» OMe of the lund records fe Jumbta, and at the request of ‘Made simply with boiling water or milk, om iu tins, (only Js-lb, and Ib.), by Grocers, labeled. JAMES EPPS & CO., 16-m,ta&s Homeonathic Chemists, London, Eng. "TBF, PRINCE GroRor's EXQuIn Published st UPP+R MARLBURO’, county, Md., having an_extensive circu! tion in sad county an ‘Sou:hern ial Inducen ents to the merchants of advertiring medium. ‘Ava literary snd Political Journal itis admitted to be among the very best in Margand. » D. C., an WW. Corcorau's ‘subdivision of original lots num- Dered two (2) and three (3), in square numbered three ‘hundred aud thirty-seven (337), together with the ime provements, &e. lerms: One third cash; balance in threeequal tnstall- ments, pagable inaix twelve and euhteen mont With Shtereet at the rate of six per cent per annum unt paid, secured upon the property sold, or all cash, af rchaser. $100 de; onit chaner's cost. aay ay Tat io penal Ett, ve 'Fitascr, } Trustees. \HOMAS DOWLING, Auctioncsr. ROPERTY ON THE SOUTH JOSEPH K. ROBERTS, Jn., ERED. SASSURR: Ee =f Eaitors, New Ontxaxs, August 1, 1583, runteoe tse To THE PUBLIC! be whine ned prin Fae vento INVESTIGATE FOR YOURSELVES! a . Postmaster General Gresham having published » Iful and malicious falsehood in to the charac- ter of The Loutsiana state Lottery Company, the fol- jowing facts are given to ayes to prove ry Amount of prizes paid by The Louisiana State Lot- tery Company from January 1, 1879, to present date: Paid to Southern Ex Taghy TS NOKTHW 0. SEPTEMBER THIRD, at FIVE, el, on the premises, Part Lot mmting 31 feet on aouth mde « F STKE wo comfortable frame houses, being Nos 224K street, between 22d aud Zéd streets. ALSO, IMMEDIATFLY AFIEK.,’ Part of square No. 11, frontis treat, between E, New Haupt) Tot No. 8 tn 20 feet on the west side of 26th re able frame 6th street northwest Terms. One-t lance in one and two yeurm, With inte eet, secured by deed of trust on eg | Paid to Canal Bank, Ext. Tob; all cash, at option of purchaser. A deposit of Paid to Murual National Bank: bo. required on roperty at thie of —S Sat f -LNG, Auctioneer. FULEY, Auchouser. offices of the Company throuxtout the i sell the stock of Dry and Fancy Gon‘, com- United States... + 2 tained in store No. 908 7th street ucrdimests at com, Pred renctiag As Y MOKNING AT “T AND- Total paid by all. E LF O'CLOCK, end will continue from day to day For the truth of the above posed of. ract the officers of the above-named corporations, and for | TI rice of Sttin, Drom Gootia, Velvia, ur Tegal and standing to the Mayor and Officers of Towels, Napkins, the City of New Orleaus, to the State authorities of lomicry, 'U_derwear, ‘ea and Embroideries, Drew Shirts, Sheetings in, Louisiana, and also to the U. 8. Officials of Louisisua. to be lezal, honest andcorvect in all our trans- | widths, Carsimerea, Flannels, Domestics of all kinda, long, 28 much so as any business in the country, | Lawns'and other urticles too iunierous to mention. Our standing is conceded by all who will nventicate, | | Ladies are specially tnvited to attend tuie-wale, a8 the and our stock bes for years sold at our Board of | goods are fine and will be wold witho t reserve. Brokers, and owned by many of our Dest known and re- ‘M. FOLLY, Auctioneer. - ‘M. A. DAUPHIN, President, For Other Auctions Sce sth Page. a7 CAPITAL. PRIZE. $75,000. ‘ HOUSEFURNISIIINGS. = SEN eS TICKETS ONLY $5. SHARES IN PLUPORTION. LOUISIANA STATE LOTTERY COMPANY. ““Wedo hereby certify that we ments for alithe Monthly and Sere & The Lovisiana State Lottery Co fon manage and control. the rsoud faith Groom att path mgood fa ze Com to uae thia cert ith. tigndtures allached. tn is adoerlieeiontar GEO. WaTT> $3268 314 7th etreot, 6 doors above Penna. avons, > Dasrornrs Fic, and best quality STOV r REFRIGERATORS and WATER COULERS at re- duced prices, COOKING STO TANGES. BRICK SETT PORTABLE SLATE MANTLLS, LATROBES, FU ACES, a great variety. . . ‘ Incorporated in 1868 for twenty-five years by the Leats- | _J°° Jature for Educational and Charitable prrpowoe—with gy ) = 000, 01020. which . Sher 3650, 000 a since ine ee _—_GENTLEMEN 8 GOODS. _ By an overw : S. B. eiusuy, erecrseoR 19 imine pular vote fts franchise was Of the. proment Stato Constitution aloptod DUPZEUIL BROTHERS, MANUFACTELERS, OF FIVE, RECS SHIRTS mude a part December 24, A. D. 1879. The only Lottery ever voted on and indorsed by the peo- ENTS FURNISHING! 112 F Srneer Noatnwest, Wasureroy, D. 0. ple af any State, ? Temever scales or postpones. Fixof the Finest Dress Shirts to order.. Lis [xtra Fine Shirts to order W. 8, JENK® & CO.. : TIT Th strnat nortnwewt. Irs GuAND SINGLE NUMBER Drawixos take place monthly, ‘A SPLE! ENDID OPPORTUNITY TO WIN A FOR- NIN1H GRAND DRAWING, CLASS I, AT NEW ORLEANS, TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1883. 16071 MonTHLY Dnawixa, CAPITAL PRIZE $75,000. Six Fine Shirts to mba s HOMPSON'S 2 FACTOBE Fs a> 0 Ses, eeg New Discovery Ix Menicise. MPR TaL MIDS GRIMAUCLT & CO.,8, Bue Vivienne, Paris, mally