CHAPTER IX.

"I DON'T think I've seen anything of Lizzy Glenn for a week," remarked Berlaps to his man Michael one day during the latter part of December. "Has she anything out?"

"Yes. She has four of our finest shirts."

"How long since she took them away?"

"It's over a week--nearly ten days."

"Indeed! Then she ought to be looked after. It certainly hasn't taken her all this time to make four shirts."

"Well, I don't know. She gets along, somehow, poorly enough," replied Michael. "She's often been a whole week making four of them."

While this conversation was going on, the subject of it entered. She came in with a slow, feeble step, and leaned against the counter as she laid down the bundle of work she had brought with her. Her half-withdrawn veil showed her face to be very pale, and her eyes much sunken. A deep, jarring cough convulsed her frame for a moment or two, causing her to place her hand almost involuntarily upon her breast, as if she suffered pain there.

"It's a good while since you took these shirts out, Lizzy," said Berlaps, in a tone meant to reprove her for the slowness with which she worked.

"Yes, it is," she replied, in a low, sad tone. "I can't get along very fast. I have a constant pain in my side. And there are other reasons."

The last sentence was spoken only half aloud, but sufficiently distinct for Berlaps to hear it.

"I don't expect my workwomen," he said, a little sharply, "to have any reasons for not finishing my work in good season, and bringing it in promptly. Ten days to four shirts is unpardonable. You can't earn your salt at that."

The young woman made no reply to this, but stood with her eyes drooping to the floor, and her hands leaning hard upon the counter to support herself.

Berlaps then commenced examining the shirts. The result of this examination seemed to soften him a little. No wonder; they were made fully equal to those for which regular shirt-makers receive from seventy-five cents to a dollar a piece.

"Don't you think you can make five such as these in a week--or even six?" he asked, in a somewhat changed tone.

"I'm afraid not," was the reply. "There's a good day's work on each one of them, and I cannot possibly sit longer than a few hours at a time. And, besides, there are two or three hours of every day that I must attend to other duties."

"Well, if you can't, I suppose you can't," said the tailor, in a disappointed, half-offended tone, and turned away from the counter and walked back to his desk, from which he called out to his salesman, after he had stood there for about a minute--

"Pay her for them, Michael, and if you have any more ready give her another lot."

Since the sharp rebuke given by Mr. Perkins, Michael had treated Lizzy with less vulgar assurance. Sometimes he would endeavor to sport a light word with her, but she never replied, nor seemed to notice his freedom in the least. This uniform, dignified reserve, so different from the demeanor of most of the girls who worked for them, coupled with the manner of Perkins's interference for her, inspired in his mind a feeling of respect for the stranger, which became her protection from his impertinences. On this occasion, he merely asked her how many she would have, and on receiving her answer, handed her the number of shirts she desired.

As she turned to go out, Mrs. Gaston, who had just entered, stood near, with her eyes fixed upon her. She started as she looked into her face. Indeed, both looked surprised, excited, then confused, and let their eyes fall to the floor. They seemed for a moment to have identified each other, and then to have become instantly conscious that they were nothing but strangers--that such an identification was impossible. An audible sigh escaped Lizzy Glenn, as she passed slowly out and left the store. As she reached the pavement, she turned and looked back at Mrs. Gaston. Their eyes again met for an instant.

"Who is that young woman?" asked Mrs. Gaston.

"Her name is Lizzy Glenn," replied Michael.

"Do you know anything about her?"

"Nothing--only that she's a proud, stiff kind of a creature; though what she has to be proud of, is more than I can tell."

"How long has she been working for you?"

"A couple of months or so, if I recollect rightly."

"Where does she live?" was Mrs. Gaston's next question.

Michael gave her the direction, and then their intercourse had entire reference to business.

After the subject of this brief conversation between Mrs. Gaston and Michael left the store of Mr. Berlaps, she walked slowly in the direction of her temporary home, which was, as has before been mentioned, in an obscure street at the north end. It consisted of a small room, in an old brick house, which had been made by running a rough partition through the centre of the front room in the second story, and then intersecting this partition on one side by another partition, so as to make three small rooms out of one large one. These partitions did not reach more than two-thirds of the distance to the ceiling, thus leaving a free circulation of air in the upper and unobstructed portion of the room. As the house stood upon a corner, and contained windows both in front and on the end, each room had a window. The whole were heated by one large stove. For the little room that Lizzy Glenn occupied, including fire, she paid seventy-five cents a week. But, as the house was old, the windows open, and the room that had been cut up into smaller ones a large one; and, moreover, as the person who let them and supplied fuel for the stove took good care to see that an undue quantity of this fuel was not burned, she rarely found the temperature of her apartment high enough to be comfortable. Those who occupied the other two rooms, in each of which, like her own, was a bed, a couple of chairs, and a table, with a small looking-glass, were seamstresses, who were compelled, as she was, to earn a scanty subsistence by working for the slop-shops. But they could work many more hours than she could, and consequently earned more money than she was able to do. Her food--the small portion she consumed--she provided herself, and prepared it at the stove, which was common property.

On returning from the tailor's, as has been seen, she laid her bundle of work upon the bed, and seated herself with a thoughtful air, resting her head upon her hand. The more she thought, the more she seemed disturbed; and finally arose, and commenced walking the floor slowly. Suddenly pausing, at length, she sighed heavily, and went to the bed upon which lay her work, took it up, unrolled the bundle, and seating herself by the table, entered once more upon her daily toil. But her mind was too much disturbed, from some cause, to permit her to pursue her work steadily. In a little while she laid aside the garment upon which she had begun to sew, and, leaning forward, rested her head upon the table, sighing heavily as she did so, and pressing one hand hard against her side, as if to relieve pain. A tap at the door aroused her from this state of abstraction. As she turned, the door was quietly opened, and the woman she had seen at the tailor's, a short time before, entered. She started to her feet at this unexpected apparition, and gazed, with a look of surprise, inquiry, and hope, upon her visitor.

"Can it be Mrs. Gaston? But no! no!" and the young creature shook her head mournfully.

"Eugenia!" exclaimed Mrs. Gaston, springing forward, and instantly the two were locked in each other's arms, and clinging together with convulsive eagerness.

"But no, no! It cannot be my own Eugenia," said Mrs. Gaston, slowly disengaging herself, and holding the young woman from her, while she read over every feature of her pale, thin face. "Surely I am in a strange dream!"

"Yes, I am your own Eugenia Ballantine! my more than mother! Or, the wreck of her, which a wave of life's ever restless ocean has heaved upon the shore."

"Eugenia Ballantine! How can it be! Lost years ago at sea, how can she be in this room, and in this condition! It is impossible! And yet you are, you must be, my own dear Eugenia."

"I am! I am!" sobbed the maiden, leaning her head upon the bosom of Mrs. Gaston, and weeping until the tears fell in large drops upon the floor.

"But the sea gives not up its dead," said Mrs. Gaston in a doubting, bewildered tone.

"True--but the sea never claimed me as a victim."

"And your father?"

The maiden's face flushed a moment, while a shade of anguish passed over it.

"At another time, I will tell you all. My mind is now too much agitated and confused. But why do I find you here? And more than all, why as a poor seamstress, toiling for little more than a crust of bread and a cup of water? Where is your husband? Where are your children?"

"Three years ago," replied Mrs. Gaston, "we removed to this city. My husband entered into business, and was unsuccessful. He lost everything, and about a year ago, died, leaving me destitute. I have struggled on, since then, the best I could, but to little purpose. The pittance I have been able to earn at the miserable prices we are paid by the tailors has scarcely sufficed to keep my children from starving. But one of them"--and the mother's voice trembled--"my sweet Ella! was not permitted to remain with me, when I could no longer provide things comfortable for my little ones. A few short weeks ago, she was taken away to a better world. It was a hard trial, but I would not have her back again. And Henry, the dear boy, you remember--I have been forced to let him go from my side out into the world. I have neither seen nor heard from him since I parted with him. Emma alone remains."

Mrs. Gaston's feelings so overcame her at this relation, that she wept and sobbed for some time.

"But, my dear Eugenia!--my child that I loved so tenderly, and have so long mourned as lost," she said, at length, drawing her arm affectionately around Miss Ballantine, "in better and happier times, we made one household for more than five pleasant years. Let us not be separated now, when there are clouds over our heads, and sorrow on our paths. Together we shall be able to bear up better and longer than when separated. I have a room, into which I moved a week since, that is pleasanter than this. One room, one bed, one fire, and one light, will do for two as well as one. We shall be better able to contend with our lot together. Will you come with me, Eugenia?"

"Will I not, Mrs. Gaston? Oh! to be once more with you! To have one who can love me as you will love me! One to whom I can unburden my heart--Oh, I shall be too happy!"

And the poor creature hung upon the neck of her maternal friend, and wept aloud.

"Then come at once," said Mrs. Gaston. "You have nothing to keep you here?"

"No, nothing," replied Eugenia.

"I will get some one to take your trunk." And Mrs. Gaston turned away and left the room. In a little while, she came back with a man, who removed the trunk to her humble dwelling-place. Thence we will follow them.

"And now, my dear Eugenia," said Mrs. Gaston, after they had become settled down, and their minds had assumed a more even flow, "clear up to me this strange mystery. Why are you here, and in this destitute condition? How did you escape death? Tell me all, or I shall still think myself only in the bewildering mazes of a dream."

(To be continued.)

* * * * *

SILENT THOUGHT.

BY WILLIE EDGAR TABOR.

SOMETIMES there steals across the heart A quietness of flow, Where gentle memories form a part, And bid in mythic tableaux start The scenes of long ago-- Too holy and too heavenly For open utterance or fear. Across the mirror of the soul, A gorgeous, a transcendent whole, They pass--a train of silent thought, With spirit, bliss, and pleasure fraught.

Then shut we out the world from view, And all its mundane care; Our hearts baptized with fresh'ning dew, Which we from seraph regions drew; Our minds with ambient air. We love to linger very long (As on some ancient harper's song, Floating through corridors of time, In all the majesty of rhyme), And silent thought alone express The acme of our happiness.

These whispers language cannot tell: E'en imagery bows low Before the task; its gentle spell (Like zephyrs in some elfin dell) Will o'er the spirit flow. And moments pass unheeded by As visions to the spirit's eye Open their prospects, and lay plain Their tracery of joy or pain. With bliss or wo forever fraught, Within the halls of SILENT THOUGHT.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote A: Entered according to Act of Congress, by T. B. PETERSON, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.]

THE MOTHER'S LESSON.

A STORY FROM A GERMAN BALLAD.

BY ELMA SOUTH.

'TWAS night, the star-gemmed and glittering, when a bereaved mother lay tossing on her bed in all the feverish restlessness of unsanctified sorrow. Sleep had fled far from her weary eye-lids; and her grief-burdened heart refused to send up from its troubled fountains the refreshing stream of prayer.

The deep stillness that rested on the hushed earth was broken by those saddest of all sounds, the bitter wailings of a mother weeping for her children, and "refusing to be comforted because they are not."

"Oh, woe, woe is me!" was the piteous cry of that breaking heart, and the piercing sound went up to the still heavens; but they looked calmly down in their starry beauty and seemed to hear it not.

And thus slowly passed the long, weary hours of the night, and naught was heard save the solemn chiming of the clock, telling, with iron tongue, that man was drawing hourly nearer to the quiet grave.

And as the mourner lay listening to Time's slow, measured strokes, Memory was busy with the images of the loved and lost. Again they were before her in all their youthful beauty; she heard their gleeful voices and felt their fond caresses. The night wind swept coolingly into the casement, and, as it touched her throbbing brow, it seemed like the soft kisses of her loving children.

Poor mourner! Could earth furnish no magic mirror in which thou couldst always thus see the dead living? Oh, no! for as melts the fleecy cloud in to the blue depths of heaven, so passed away the blessed vision; and seeing but the coffin and the shroud, again arose on the silent air those tones of despairing anguish: "Woe is me! my sons are dead!"

Then softly and sweetly sounded forth the matin chimes, blending their holy music with the anguished cries of the bereaved mother. In the midst of her sorrow, she heard the bells' sweet harmony, and, leaving her sleepless couch, walked forth into the refreshing air. Morning was breaking cold and gray over the earth, and the stars were growing pale at the approaching step of the monarch of the day.

Slowly walks the mourner through the yet sleeping woods, whose flowers are folded in silence, and whose birds give forth no carols. She reaches the antique church and enters the sacred doors. A mysterious light--light that is almost shade--is brooding over the holy aisles, clothing in shadowy garments the pale images of departed saints; wrapping in mantle of dimness the carved sepulchres; throwing strange gleams over the tall white columns; and embracing, with pale arms, cross and picture, and antique shrine. In the midst of this mysterious light kneel a silent company; each head is bowed on the clasped hands, and no sound is heard save a deep, far distant murmuring, like the voice of the mighty wind when it passes through the leaves of the dark, old pines, dwelling in some dim, solemn woods.

Suddenly every head is lifted, and the mourner sees in that vast company friends who had been sleeping long ages in the silent tomb. All were there again; the friend of her cloudless childhood, who went down to death's cold chambers in all her stainless beauty, sinking into the grave as pure as the snow-flake that falls to the earth. And there was the sister of her home and heart, the tried friend of sorrow's shaded hours, who, in dying, left a mighty void that time could never fill. And there were the "mighty dead," they whose footsteps, when living, tracked the world with light--light that now shed a halo over their graves. And there were the meek, patient ones of earth, pale martyrs to sorrow, who struggled hopefully through the dim vapors that surround the world, and met as a reward the ineffable brightness of heaven. They were all here, all who had passed from earth amidst a fond tribute of tears and regrets.

All were here save two, those two the most dearly loved among the precious company of the dead; and wildly scanning the pale group, the mother called aloud as she missed her children: "Oh, my sons! my sons! would that I could see them but once again!"

Then arose a loud voice, and it said: "Look to the east;" and the weeping mother looked.

Oh! dreadful sight! there, by the sacred altar, rested a block and a fearful wheel. Stretched on these dreadful instruments of doom, in the coarse garb of the prison, wrestling fiercely with death in its most awful form, were two poor youths; and in their wan countenances, where crime and grief had traced their fearful march, the mother recognized her lost sons.

Dismayed, heart-sick, despairing, she motionless stands; and the deep silence is again broken by a voice speaking these words:--

"Mourner, whose every tone is a murmur at Heaven's will, whose every expression is a doubt of God's love, let this teach thee a mighty truth. See the dark path of crime they might have trod; see the agony, the shame, the maternal anguish that might have swept like a desolating tempest over thy heart; then thank thy God, in a burst of fervent praise, that he took them in unsullied youth from a world of sin to a place of safe refuge."

The voice ceased, and darkness fell like a pall on the marble floor; but through the arched windows came streaming the pale moonlight, and beneath its holy rays, the mother knelt and prayed.

There fell on her heart a blessed calm, as a voice whispered to the troubled waves of sorrow, "peace, be still."

And the angel of death stole softly in, and sealed her pale lips forever, whilst repentance and resignation were breathing from them in the music of prayer.

Oh, weeping mother! who art hanging garlands of sorrow ever fresh over thy children's tombs, take to thy bereaved heart, and ponder well, this "Mother's Lesson!"

* * * * *

TEACHING AT HOME.

LANGUAGE.

AS we are desirous of pointing out in what respects parents may assist in the education of their children previous to their being sent to school, we must remind them that it is at home that a child learns to speak; and that there is, perhaps, nothing which helps more towards his after instruction than the power of speaking well. There are sometimes very strange notions on this subject amongst fathers and mothers. They think, as long as they themselves can understand a child when it begins to talk, that it is sufficient. They are rather pleased than otherwise that the baby should have its own names for the things it wants, and the parent learns to use these words for the accommodation of the child. Instead of being helped forward in its progress to plain speaking, it is allowed for several years to express itself in a strange sort of gibberish, which is only laughed at and admired by the rest of the family. The mother will tell with a sort of satisfaction that little Susan can never use the letter S, or the letter W; and no effort is made by her to conquer the difficulty. She does not foresee, as most probably will be the case, that this will be a sort of stumbling-block in little Susan's way when she goes to school, and that she will pass for a sort of dunce, perhaps, for a year or two, in consequence of her inability to read as well as other children of her age. When she stands up in her class and begins to read her portion of the lesson, she is told by the rest of the children that they cannot understand a word that she reads; and the patience of her teacher is sorely tried, in vain attempts to get a few words distinctly uttered. And when Susan leaves school at last to enter upon her occupation in life--say that of teacher--it is ten to one that her imperfect utterance does not stand in her way in getting a place; for mothers, who are well educated, like that their children should be with those who speak well, and in the first interview with Susan, the imperfection in her speech is discovered. The same, perhaps, with Willy, her brother, who finds himself rejected several times by persons to whom he offers himself to fill some situation for which he is perfectly well qualified, only that the gentlemen think he must be but a rough sort of lad from the countrified way in which he answers the questions put to him. Clearness and correctness of speech have also another advantage in securing correctness and clearness of thoughts. A child who is made to put the right word to everything and to pronounce it properly--to use the right expression in describing what he sees, or in telling what he has done--knows and understands better than one who makes up words or expressions for himself; and a mother or father can, if they be not very bad speakers themselves, early accustom their children to choose the right names for things instead of the wrong in their talk. We all know that in many counties of England, the people living there have words peculiar to themselves for many things, different from the way in which they are called in London, or in the great towns; at the same time that they know quite well what are the right names and words used by the well educated. From early habit they like to use these words, which perhaps remind them of their own childhood or their home in early life; but it would be as well to remember that to their children it would be an advantage to use the more correct words and expressions, and therefore worth their while to make an effort to employ them. It is also of great importance that the _pronunciation_, or way of sounding words, should be correct. In these counties, for instance, it is the habit of the people not to sound the letter H at the beginning of a word; and though this may seem a very trifling matter, it may on many occasions in life go greatly against a young person, should he or she talk of a _orse_ or a _ouse_, instead of a _horse_ or a _house_. The persons so speaking may have learned to read very correctly, and write well, and be possessed of a good stock of useful knowledge, and yet with a very large class of persons they would, from such a slip of the tongue, be set down as ignorant and ill educated--perhaps even be suspected of a rudeness and vulgarity in thought and feeling which they were far from being guilty of. To secure their children against such a disadvantage, it would be worth while for any parent who knows how to spell, to take care that this important letter _h_ is sounded in all words which it begins, there being only two or three words in the English in which it is the custom not to pronounce it, such as _hour_, _heir_, _honor_, &c., which are soon learned to be exceptions to the general rule. This habit, it is true, is peculiar to England; but it shows how carefully proper habits should be nurtured in childhood.

There is a still more important point for parents to observe in the language used by their children, and this is the avoidance of all profane, vulgar, or indecent words. And in this respect the parent is most particularly the teacher of his child. A father who uses an oath in the presence of his innocent child, teaches that child to make use of that expression some day in his turn. A mother who takes the great name of God in vain, not only sets her child the example of so doing, but takes away from its young mind some portion of the reverence which it has hitherto felt towards the Great Being whom it is taught to call its "Father in Heaven." Too much is it the custom, in the most trivial events of everyday life, to utter that Name which should never be pronounced but with reverence and love. It is called upon in moments of anger and impatience, when the remembrance of His care and love should lead us to leave the little as well as the great events of life trustfully in his hands, knowing as we do that all is ordered and ruled for our good.

* * * * *

DIRECTIONS FOR TAKING LEAF IMPRESSIONS.

HOLD oiled paper in the smoke of a lamp, or of pitch, until it becomes coated with the smoke; to this paper apply the leaf of which you wish an impression, having previously warmed it between your hands, that it may be pliable. Place the lower surface of the leaf upon the blackened surface of the oil-paper, that the numerous veins, which are so prominent on this side, may receive from the paper a portion of the smoke. Lay a paper over the leaf, and then press it gently upon the smoked paper with the fingers, or with a small roller (covered with woollen cloth, or some like soft material), so that every part of the leaf may come in contact with the sooted oil-paper. A coating of the smoke will adhere to the leaf. Then remove the leaf carefully, and place the blackened surface on a sheet of white paper, not ruled, or in a book prepared for the purpose, covering the leaf with a clean slip of paper, and pressing upon it with the fingers, or roller, as before. Thus may be obtained the impression of a leaf, showing the perfect outlines, together with an accurate exhibition of the veins which extend in every direction through it, more correctly than the finest drawing. And this process is so simple, and the materials so easily obtained, that any person, with a little practice to enable him to apply the right quantity of smoke to the oil-paper, and give the leaf a proper pressure, can prepare beautiful leaf impressions, such as a naturalist would be proud to possess.

There is another, and we think a better method of taking _leaf impressions_ than the preceding one. The only difference in the process consists in the use of _printing-ink_ instead of smoked oil-paper.

LEAF PRINTING.--After warming the leaf between the hands, apply _printing-ink_, by means of a small leather ball containing cotton, or some soft substance, or with the end of the finger. The leather ball (and the finger when used for that purpose), after the ink is applied to it, should be pressed several times upon a piece of leather, or some smooth surface, before each application to the leaf, that the ink may be smoothly and evenly applied.

After the under surface of the leaf has been sufficiently inked, apply it to the paper, where you wish the impression; and, after covering it with a slip of paper, use the hand or roller to press upon it, as described in the former process.

FARM HOUSE.

[_From "Rural Architecture," published by C. M. Saxton, New York._]

THIS is a plain and unpretending building in appearance; yet, in its ample finish, and deeply drawn and sheltering eaves, broad veranda, and spacious out-buildings, may give accommodation to a large family indulging a liberal style of living.

By an error in the engraving, the main roof of the house is made to appear like a double, or gambrel-roof, breaking at the intersection of the gable, or hanging roof over the ends. This is not so intended. The roofs on each side are a straight line of rafters. The Swiss, or hanging style of gable-roof, is designed to give a more sheltered effect to the elevation than to run the end walls to a peak in the point of the roof.

By a defect in the drawing, the roof of the veranda is not sufficiently thrown over the columns. This roof should project at least one foot beyond them, so as to perfectly shelter the mouldings beneath from the weather, and conform to the style of the main roof of the house.

The material of which it is built may be of either stone, brick, or wood, as the taste or convenience of the proprietor may suggest. The main building is 44 by 36 feet, on the ground. The cellar wall may show 18 to 24 inches above the ground, and be pierced by windows in each end, as shown in the plan. The height of the main walls may be two full stories below the roof plates, or the chambers may run a foot or two into the garret, at the choice of the builder, either of which arrangements may be permitted.

The front door opens from a veranda 28 feet long by 10 feet in depth, drooping eight inches from the door-sill. This veranda has a hipped roof, which juts over the columns in due proportion with the roof of the house over its walls. These columns are plain, with brackets, or braces from near their tops, sustaining the plate and finish of the roof above, which may be covered either with tin or zinc, painted, or closely shingled.

The walls of the house may be 18 to 20 feet high below the plates; the roof a pitch of 30 to 45 degrees, which will afford an upper garret, or store, or small sleeping rooms, if required; and the eaves should project two to three feet, as climate may demand, over the walls. A plain finish--that is, ceiled underneath--is shown in the design, but brackets on the ends of the rafters, beaded and finished, may be shown, if preferred. The gables are _Swiss-roofed_, or _truncated_, thus giving them a most sheltered and comfortable appearance, particularly in a northerly climate. The small gable in front relieves the roof of its monotony, and affords light to the central garret. The chimneys are carried out with partition flues, and may be topped with square caps, as necessity or taste may demand.

Retreating three feet from the kitchen side of the house runs, at right angles, a wing 30 by 18 feet, one and a half stories high, with a veranda eight feet wide in front. Next in rear of this, continues a wood-house, 30 by 18 feet, one story high, with ten-feet posts, and open in front, the ground level of which is 18 inches below the floor of the wing to which it is attached. The roof of these two is of like character with that of the main building.

Adjoining this wood-house, and at right angles with it, is a building 68 by 18 feet, projecting two feet outside the line of wood-house and kitchen. This building is one and a half stories high, with twelve feet posts, and roof in the same style and of equal pitch as the others.

_Interior Arrangement._--The front door from the veranda of the house opens into a hall, 18 by 8 feet, and 11 feet high, amply lighted by sash windows on the sides, and over the door. From the rear of this hall runs a flight of easy stairs, into the upper or chamber hall. On one side of the lower hall, a door leads into a parlor, 18 feet square, and 11 feet high, lighted by three windows, and warmed by an open stove or fireplace, the pipe passing into a chimney flue in the rear. A door passes from this parlor into a rear passage, or entry, thus giving it access to the kitchen and rear apartments. At the back end of the front hall, a door leads into the rear passage and kitchen; and on the side opposite the parlor, a door opens into the sitting or family room; 18 by 16 feet in area, having an open fireplace, and three windows. On the hall side of this room, a door passes into the kitchen, 22 by 16 feet, and which may, in case the requirements of the family demand it, be made the chief family or living room, and the last one described converted into a library. In this kitchen, which is lighted by two windows, is a liberal open fireplace, with an ample oven by its side, and a sink in the outer corner. A flight of stairs, also, leads to the rear chambers above; and a corresponding flight under them, to the cellar below. A door at each end of these stairs leads into the back entry of the house, and thus to the other interior rooms, or through the rear outer door to the back porch. This back entry is lighted by a single sash window over the outside door leading to the porch. Another door, opposite that leading down cellar, opens into the passage through the wing. From the rear hall, which is 16 by 5 feet, the innermost passage leads into a family bedroom, or nursery, 16 by 14 feet, lighted by a window in each outside wall, and warmed by an open fireplace, or stove, at pleasure. Attached to this bedroom is a clothes-closet, 8 by 4 feet, with shelves and drawers. Next the outer door, in rear end of the hall, is a small closet opening from it, 6 by 4 feet in dimensions, convertible to any use which the mistress of the house may direct.

Opening into the wing from the kitchen, first, is a large closet and pantry, supplied with a table, drawers, and shelves, in which are stored the dishes, table furniture, and edibles necessary to be kept at a moment's access. This room is 14 by 8 feet, and well lighted by a window of convenient size. If necessary, this room may have a partition, shutting off a part from the everyday uses which the family requires. In this room, so near to the kitchen, to the sink, to hot water, and the other little domestic accessories which good housewives know so well how to arrange and appreciate, all the nice little table-comforts can be got up, and perfected, and stored away, under lock and key, in drawer, tub, or jar, at their discretion, and still their eyes not be away from their subordinates in the other departments. Next to this, and connected by a door, is the dairy, or milk-room, also 14 by 8 feet; which, if necessary, may be sunk three or four feet into the ground, for additional coolness in the summer season, and the floor reached by steps. In this are ample shelves for the milk-pans, convenience of churning, &c. &c. But, if the dairy be a prominent object of the farm, a separate establishment will be required, and the excavation may not be necessary for ordinary household uses. Out of this milk-room, a door leads into a wash-room, 18 by 14 feet. A passage from the kitchen also leads into this. The wash-room is lighted by two windows in rear, and one in front. A sink is between the two rear windows, with conductor leading outside, and a closet beneath it, for the iron ware. In the chimney, at the end, are boilers, and a fireplace, an oven, or anything else required, and a door leading to a platform in the wood-house, and so into the yard. On the other side of the chimney, a door leads into a bathing-room, 7 by 6 feet, into which hot water is drawn from one of the boilers adjoining, and cold water may be introduced, by a hand-pump, through a pipe leading into the well or cistern.

* * * * *

A FEW WORDS ABOUT DELICATE WOMEN.

HOW essential is it to the well-being of a family that the wife and mother should be cheerful, active, and healthy. Yet, looking at those classes of the community a little above what may be termed the laboring class, how frequently we find that the women are ailing, nervous, and irritable; or, as they would call themselves, "delicate!" How is this?

"Why," answers one, "some are the children of unhealthy parents, and the inheritors of their diseases." Where this is the case, the fullest sympathy and consideration are due; but the number of such would be only a few in comparison with the class we speak of. We must look further for the cause.

"Oh," suggests another, "is not the fact of being a wife and mother, and having the care and management of a family and household, with perhaps very limited pecuniary resources, quite enough to make women weak and ailing?" We think not. Such circumstances are trying; but with some women they have been the means of drawing out unwonted cheerfulness and energy of character. Allowing, however, that some women are so tried and harassed by the circumstances of married life that their health and energy give way; still their number would be comparatively few, and we must find some other cause for the fact that there are so many females who call themselves "delicate."

Is it that they have an impression that there is something amiable in being delicate?

Do they think it is lady-like to be delicate?

Is not this delicacy cultivated by some as a means of drawing more largely on sympathy, especially the husband's sympathy?

Are not idleness and inactivity often excused or hidden under this convenient cloak of delicacy?

We think that each of these questions may be correctly answered in the affirmative, and that the commencement of these errors, with all their attendant evils, may be traced to the education of the girl.

Years ago, Fanny was a healthy, active, and unaffected child, when her parents sent her to a boarding-school. For the first few days, feeling herself among strangers, and away from home, she was pensive and quiet; but this soon wore away, and she became cheerful and happy again. She had taken a skipping-rope with her to school, and one evening, when she was in the full enjoyment of the use of it, the evening bell rang for the scholars to retire for the night. When Fanny went to say "good-night" to the governess, she was surprised to hear her say to the matron: "You will be so good as to give Miss Fanny a dose of calomel, she is in too robust health; see, her cheeks are like a milkmaid's." So Fanny had to take calomel, and the next day she was languid and listless, or, as the governess seemed to consider, "lady-like." Another time, when playing with a companion somewhat actively in the playground, they were stopped by a teacher, saying: "Young ladies, are you not ashamed of yourselves? that is not the way to conduct yourselves in this establishment. Why, what would be thought of you? Pray let me see you walk like young ladies."

Fanny wished then that she was not to be called a "young lady" if she might not play and romp about a little, for she was sure it made her happy to do so. But it is astonishing what changes may in time be effected by teaching and example. During the remainder of her stay at school, Fanny had occasional doses of calomel when too robust health began to show itself; and she had learned to believe that, to be at all respected by her fellow-creatures, she must be considered a young lady, and that all young ladies were of delicate constitutions, and that it was very unlady-like to be healthy and active.

Poor Fanny! she had not only imbibed these notions, but she had also lost a great deal of her vigor of constitution, and had become inert and inactive. When she left school, she returned to the home of her childhood, where family arrangements were such that her assistance would frequently have been acceptable to her parents. But when anything was requested of her, it was attended to in a manner so unwilling and languid, that they soon ceased to ask anything of her, grieving and wondering what was become of their cheerful and active Fanny.

Not being aware of Fanny's idea's about ladyism, and not perceiving that the mind wanted curing more than the body, her parents consulted the family doctor, who said that he could not perceive there was much the matter with her; he, however, recommended fresh air and exercise, and suggested that perhaps a few weeks by the seaside might do her good. Now, this latter advice Fanny liked very much; it added to her importance as a lady that she should be taken to the seaside because she was in delicate health. However, as Fanny meant to be delicate, she was as much so on her return as before, until at last it became an allowed fact in the family that Fanny was "so delicate" that she was left to do pretty much as she pleased.

Time passed on, and Fanny became a wife, and, with a vague idea that she was to secure to herself the affections of her husband, just in proportion that she made demands upon his sympathy, her elegant ailings became more numerous than ever, and she has fully established her claim to be classed among "delicate women."

Perhaps the custom of giving calomel to destroy health, as if it were a weed too rank to be allowed to grow, is not very much practised; but other injurious customs are taught and practised which as certainly injure health.

The custom of confining the body in tight stays, or tight clothes of any kind, is exceedingly hurtful to the health of both body and mind. A girl has learned a very bad lesson, when she has been taught that to gain the admiration of her fellow-creatures, she must, even to the endangering of health and life, distort her figure from that which nature has made, to something which fashion presumes to dictate as more admirable.

The custom of preventing the active use of the limbs, and free exercise of the body generally, and restricting every movement to the artificial notions of boarding-school propriety, is attended with mental and physical evils of all sorts. While a child is forbidden to take the bodily exercise which nature would impel her to do, the humors grow thick and stagnate for want of motion to warm and dilate them; the general circulation is impeded; the muscles stiffen, because deprived of their necessary moisture; obstructions take place, which produce weakness in every animal function; and nature, no longer able to discharge the morbid matter which constantly accumulates from all her imperfect operations, gradually sickens, and the child is either carried to a premature grave, or continues an existence of physical and mental languor and listlessness; and another is added to the class of "delicate women."

We cannot be far from right in saying that almost all the mental and physical ailings of "delicate women" may be traced to a defective education. And those who are now engaged in training girls, whether at home or in schools, cannot too seriously consider the weight of responsibility resting upon them. Upon their management depend much of future health, and, consequently, the usefulness and happiness of those committed to their charge.

As requisites to the promotion of bodily vigor, we will mention:--

A strict attention to personal cleanliness, which children should be taught to cultivate, because it is healthy and right that they should be clean, and not because "it would look so if they were dirty!"

The use of apartments that are well ventilated.

Frequent and sufficient active bodily exercise in the open air.

Entire freedom from any pressure upon the person by the use of tight clothes.

A sufficiency of nourishing and digestible food.

And, in winter, the use of such firing as is needed to keep up a healthful warmth.

All these will tend to promote health, but we shall have no security against "delicate women" unless there be also added the cultivation of mental health.

For this, it is necessary that girls should be taught to cultivate _mental purity and mental activity_, by sufficient and well-regulated exercise of the mind.

Habits of benevolence, contentment, and cheerful gratitude should be inculcated, both by precept and example, to the exclusion of selfishness.

And, above all, should be strongly impressed upon the mind the necessity of the strictest integrity, which will lead to the abhorrence of every species of affectation, which is, indeed, only a modified sort of deceit.

Girls should also be early taught that they are responsible beings; responsible to God for the right use of all the mercies bestowed upon them; and that health is one of the chief of earthly blessings, and that it is their duty to value and preserve it.

But much is learnt from example as well as from precept; therefore, let no affectation of languid airs in a teacher give a child the idea that there can be anything admirable in the absence of strength. We do not wish that girls should cultivate anything masculine; for an unfeminine woman cannot be an object of admiration to the right judging of either sex. But a female has no occasion to affect to be feminine; she is so naturally, and if she will but let nature have its perfect work, she will, most likely, be not only feminine, but also graceful and admirable.

The school studies of girls should be so arranged that they may afford mental food and satisfaction; otherwise, as soon as the lesson hours are over, they will, most likely, turn with avidity to any nonsense they can learn from foolish conversation, or to reading some of the trashy books of the day, to the injury of all mental and moral health, and the almost certain production of "delicate women."

To those who are already women, and are unfortunately classed among the "delicate," we would say: For the sake of your husbands, and all connected with you, strive resolutely to lose your claim to such an unenviable distinction. If you are conscious of the least feeling of satisfaction in hearing yourself spoken of as delicate, be assured it is a degree of mental disease that allows the feeling. If you ever suppose that you gain your husband's sympathy by weakness, remember you might gain more of his esteem and satisfied affection by strength. Fifty years ago, it was well said that, "To a man of feeling, extreme delicacy in the partner of his life and fortune is an object of great and constant concern; but a _semblance_ of such delicacy, where it does not really exist, is an insult on his discernment, and must ultimately inspire him with aversion and disgust." It is not for us to say how many put on the semblance of delicacy as a covering for idleness, or from any of the weak motives that prompt such an affectation--conscience will whisper where this is the case--and happy will it be for the household of any one who can be roused from such a pitiable state.

Could woman only know how many husbands are bankrupt because their wives are "delicate;" how many children are physically, mentally, and morally neglected and ruined, because their mothers are "delicate;" how many servants become dishonest and inefficient, because their mistresses are "delicate"--the list would be so appalling that possibly we might hear of an Anti-delicate-ladies Association, for the better promotion of family happiness and family economy.

Meanwhile, let each listen to her own conscience and the dictates of her better judgment, and remember that health is a gift of God, and we cannot slight a gift without also slighting the Giver.

POETRY.

THE GLEANER.

BY RICHARD COE.

(_See Plate._)

NOT the raven's glossy wing Is so beautiful a thing As thy locks of jet-black hair, Maiden, all so bright and fair! And a soul of beauty lies In the midnight of thine eyes; And a sweet, expressive grace Sitteth meekly on thy face, Like unto a statue seen Of some gentle, loving queen!

Whatsoe'er thy name or station, Thine, sweet maid, 's a blest vocation; 'Neath the dome that God hath spread All above and round thy head; Taking in the healthful breeze From the mountain-tops and trees; Thou dost toil from day to day, Knowing that "to work's to pray!" Conscious of reward well won At the setting of the sun.

From thy thought-revealing brow Strength of intellect hast thou; In the harvest-fields of Thought Mighty minds of old have wrought; Thou hast followed in their way, Gleaning richly day by day: Gems of purest ray serene In the intervals between Constant toil and needful rest, Thou hast garnered in thy breast.

In the brighter fields above, 'Neath the beaming eye of Love, While the heavenly reapers stand, Each with sickle in his hand, Thou shalt take thy final rest On the Master's kindly breast; Ever, evermore to be Blest throughout eternity; Never, nevermore to roam From thy gladsome Harvest Home!

* * * * *

THE PET.

BY ROSA MONTROSE.

I HAVE a little nephew, He is scarcely three years old, With eyes of heaven's deepest blue, And ringlets palely gold; His mouth, a velvet rosebud red, All hung with honey-dew; But sweeter far our darling's lips Than rose that ever grew!

I ne'er have found so dear a child, Or one so strangely fair, Or saw on infant brow like his The mind that's slumb'ring there! And oftentimes he utters things, Confounding wise and old; And from his baby lips we hear What wisdom bath not told!

He's like a breath of summer air-- A dew-drop pure and bright, That falls from Evening's closing eye, To kiss the morning light: A ray of sunshine, soft and warm-- A straying golden beam-- A silver singing rivulet-- Or joyous dancing stream!

He is the treasure of our heart-- The sunlight and the joy; He'll lisp to you the names he bears, Sweet, lovely, darling boy! And when he comes with pleading words, My work is laid away, Or classic volume closed at once, To join him in his play.

His voice is like a tiny lute, And when he sweetly sings, You'd think he was an angel, and Be looking for his wings! And oft I clasp him to my heart With strange foreboding fear That he's a straying seraph child God only lends us here!

Such thoughts as these intruding come, For in this world of ours The loveliest things the soonest droop; The fairest human flowers Are ever first to pass away, The first to fade and die-- Thus teaching us our treasures should Be sought beyond the sky!

But we will love our "angel boy," And never cease to pray That seraph forms may guide him here, _But call him not away!_ And hope that till life's closing breath, As on his infant brow, So Intellect and Innocence May blend as pure as now!

* * * * *

DISAPPOINTED LOVE.

BY W. S. GAFFNEY.

OH! scorn him not--the noble soul Whose happy dreams have sped: Whose cherished hopes of blissful love Have ever, ever fled! For, oh! 'tis hard at best to bear Misfortunes from above; But deathlike to the manly heart Is cruel, shipwrecked love!

Oh! scorn him not--but gently strive To soothe his troubled breast; For man's vocation here on earth Is wearisome at best: Then metre out true sympathy-- Pour oil upon the smart-- And, smiling angels, oh! beware To crush a manly heart!

* * * * *

STANZAS.

BY H. B. WILDMAN.

I STOOD beside a pleasant stream, Where spicy boughs were wreathing; Its gentle ripples came and went Like sleeping infants breathing.

The lily press'd its dewy cheek Upon the kissing billow, And slumber'd like a summer bride Upon her nuptial pillow.

Yet, by this stream a dark rock tower'd Like fane in forest waving; Deep furrows shown within its side, Wrought by the ripples laving!

I gazed upon the sunny stream, And thought of sunny faces, And wonder'd how such gentle waves Could leave such angry traces.

Again I stood within the hall Where Wealth her glow was shedding; The spacious dome seem'd lighted up For some grand princely wedding.

The moon look'd down on golden spires, As if to give a greeting; One would have thought, amid the show, 'Twas Pleasure's natal meeting.

Yet there, within that hall, that night I saw the discontented; I saw pale faces mark'd with care, Like spirits unrepented.

I gazed upon the princely hall Where wealth had blown her bubble, And wonder'd how, amid such show, There could be aught of trouble.

And thus, I said, amid Life's glare-- Amid this world of hurry-- 'Tis true that "tongues we find in trees, And sermons in the quarry!"

Our life is like yon little stream, Where ripples are retreating; And Pleasure, though array'd in smiles, Hath spots where Care is eating.

Our life is like a summer stream That lulls us into slumber; We dream we're happy for a while, While waves in countless number,

Though gentle in their ceaseless flow, Are every day and morrow, Still chafing in the shores of Life Some secret marks of sorrow!

* * * * *

BRIGHT FLOWERS FOR HER I LOVE.

BY WILLIAM RODERICK LAWRENCE.

BRIGHT flowers for her I love Yes, flowers rich and rare, The rose-bud and the violet To grace her golden hair; Yet nature's gems--though beautiful And pure and bright they be-- Are not so fair as she I love, Or beautiful to me.

Rare gems for her I love! All sparkling in their light, A diadem to grace that brow So beautifully bright; Yet earthly crowns must fade-- Immortal crowns above Alone are worthy to be sought By her I fondly love.

Music for her I love! Melodiously low, Breathed soft from harps whose golden strings With songs of rapture glow; Such music as the angels make In worlds of light above-- Such music would I have to cheer The heart of her I love.

And peace for her I love! The peace religion brings, Renouncing fleeting, transient joys For bright and heavenly things; Let happiness be hers, And heaven her rest above; May this, my prayer, accepted rise For her I truly love.

* * * * *

STANZAS.

BY HELEN HAMILTON.

THOUGH thou art dying, yet I may not weep Such grief I leave to those who part for years; _We_ only part for days; it may be--hours; We have no need of tears.

Ere thy last kiss is cold upon my lips, Thy dying clasp is loosened from my hand; I will be with thee--thou but goest before Into the better land.

When thou hast reached Heav'n's golden portal, pause And cast one look adown Death's shadowy road; I will be near, nor tremble as I walk The road thou first hast trod.

Would that together we might pass away! Would that one sound might ring our passing knell! Yet soon we'll meet where partings are unknown; For the last time--farewell.

* * * * *

SONNET.--NATURE.

BY WM. ALEXANDER.

NATURE! Well hath the Poet said: "Who can Paint like to thee?" Inimitably fine Seem all the hues and colorings of thine, Though microscopic eye may closely scan: Close search but lifts the mystic veil that hides Thy scenes of beauty. In the tiny cup Of thy fair flowers, what wonders open up! Lo! a whole insect nation there resides, Clad in rich vests of fine embroidery, Or coats of living purple, green, and gold. Such fairy scenes, so constantly unrolled, Declare design most manifest to be; And the least path Omnipotence hath trod Exhibits footprints of our glorious God.

* * * * *

TO ONE WHO RESTS.

BY WINNIE WOODFERN.

I THOUGHT my heart had cast away Each memory of its early day; I thought nor grief, nor change, nor fear, Could teach these eyes to shed a tear; And yet, a very child I be, Alas, I still remember thee!

I often gaze with heart unmoved On lips that smile like thine, beloved; I often catch a deep low tone, That bears the music of thine own; Yet pass, without a tear or smile, My pulses calm and cool, the while.

Thou, dearest, hast been linked to me By things which never more can be; By memories of that lovely place, That village, _quiet in its grace_, Like lilies, in the summer air, That stir not; knowing they are fair.

And those who trod its mossy walks, And shared with me those woodland talks, 'Till our hearts, hungry for the pain Of loving, to be loved again, Learned the deep meaning of a word Which had been better never heard.

Thou, and thy love, were of that time When life was but a passion--rhyme; When I knew not that care might come Even to that sweet mountain home; When stars and streams and flowers were part Of this, then calmly beating heart.

So, when the martyr's cross was mine, I chose another love than thine; Our hearts, but not our souls, were mates, Our love the same, but not our fates; And he who, in these later years, Seeks me, seeks also scorching tears.

'Tis long since I have breathed thy name! It once could turn my heart to flame; But now, so changed and cold am I, I only speak it with a sigh, That dreams, whose proper home is Heaven, To hearts o'ertasked with Earth, are given!

Oh, long forsaken! no fond dream, Floating (like flowers on a stream), Down the wild current of my mind, Counts o'er the joys I've left behind, A little thing has drawn these tears, For thee, and for our early years!

A moment since I cast a look Within the pages of a book Which thou to me hast often read, Thy shoulder pillowing my head; A faint, sweet perfume thence arose; _There lay thy gift_--a faded rose!

It was as if an altar burned With sacrifices, and I turned-- Beloved, do not think me weak! Tears, wild with grief, fled down my cheek, And to my lips arose a prayer That I might _die_ while pausing there!

My song is o'er; 'twill only tell, To some who know and love me well, At times, within my inmost soul, Are thoughts I cannot quite control, Because they breathe and speak of thee, Who can be nothing now to me!

* * * * *

THEY SAY THAT SHE IS BEAUTIFUL.

BY MARY GRACE HALPING.

THEY say that she is beautiful; They praise that speaking eye, That fair and softly rounded cheek, Its bright and changeful dye, That pure and polished brow that towers Like ivory temple high.

But is that radiant being fair The light and joy of _home?_ Doth from its loving inmates there Her heart forget to roam? Oh, is she not as false and fair As ocean's snowy foam?

They say, unlike the tones of earth Rings out that music free; But only from the halls of mirth Are heard those tones of glee; They say that she is beautiful-- She is not so to me.

I've seen that sweet and smiling lip Give back a stern reply; I've seen the cloud of passion dim That proudly glorious eye, And on that pure transparent brow The shade of anger lie.

I know that outward beauty sits Upon that queenly brow; Before its proud and gorgeous shrine Doth man admiring bow, While she, with false, capricious smile, Repays each idle vow.

I know with seeming truth doth flash That darkly radiant eye, Yet beauty oft will sell for cash What love can never buy, Aside a loving heart will dash That time and change defy.

Upon the thickly crowded street, I many a form have past, Whom grace gave not proportion meet From beauty's model cast, To whom the _soul_ a glory lends A radiance that will last, When beauty's tender floweret bends Before time's wintry blast.

Yet _there_ I see no loving _heart_, No spirit pure and free, Though like a whited sepulchre An outward gloss may be; They say that she is beautiful, She is not so to me.

* * * * *

ODE TO THE AIR IN MAY.

BY NICHOLAS NETTLEBY.

AWAKE, O Muse! my trembling pen inspire! Infuse my words with unpolluted song; Touch every line with thine own sacred fire, And bear me by thy impulses along!

To thee, sweet Air, that dost around me play, Touching ethereally each silv'ry string That vibrates in the golden Harp of May, To thee I dedicate this offering.

Soft, gentle Air! unnumbered missions thine, Missions of mercy, kindness, and of love; Guardian to man thou art, almost divine, Doing below as angel hosts above.

Thine is it, Air, at morn's first op'ning light, To hang rich curtains in the eastern sky, Which, casting back their own refulgence bright, Proclaim to earth that glorious day is nigh.

Thine is the task, as heaven's all-wondrous orb Fills the eternal arch that o'er us spans, Within thyself its fiercest rays t' absorb, And make its milder, softer radiance man's.

O'er the broad earth thou wingest; every day Lighting bright smiles in mansions high and low; Blessings uncounted strewing in thy way, Bright'ning the eye, kindling the cheek with glow.

When burning fever mantles o'er the brow, And dire disease foretells the angel Death, Welcome is thy refreshing entrance. Now Gold hath not there the sweetness of thy breath.

With flowers thou lov'st to sport in fondest glee, Sipping from velvet cups their rich perfume; Thou lov'st to dally with the old oak-tree, And with its broad green crest sweetly commune.

That sombre cloud that far on high is seen, Shading the earth from Sol's intensest rays, Is upward borne by thee, a wondrous screen, Which both thy goodness and thy power displays.

Within our path thy liquid waves are found, Constant attendant upon every hour, Bearing unto us many a moving sound, And messages from each surrounding flower.

And if (when weary of a long repose), Thou dost invite an earth-refreshing storm, When three-tongued lightnings in the heavens disclose Terrific thunderclouds of grandest form,

Mantling the sky in blackest robes of night, And rushing onward in confusion dire, While deep explosions cause the timid fright, And heaven and earth are filled with lurid fire;

Then is it that thy majesty we love; Then we behold the wonders of thy power; Thou hold'st the elements that rage above, And guidest them in that sublimest hour!

But over thee, sweet Air, another hand, Higher and stronger, holier than thine own, Presides. 'Tis He, who by a seraph band, Is circled round. HE upon Heaven's Throne!

* * * * *

ANNOYANCE.

BY BEATA.

I WAS thinking of the "Godey;" that it was out I knew, The month was just beginning, and the papers said so too; "A charming number," "brilliant," "a treat for ladies all," And I wished to see its contents, and read "Fashion" on the fall.

A rainy afternoon it was--not a dashing, roaring rain, With a trumpet-sounding wind, or a stirring hurricane; It did not rattle 'gainst the glass a lively, merry chime, But a dull and dreary drizzle, a stupid, yawning time.

I almost had a mind to venture on the street, But I do detest the pavements, even when they're clean and neat; So I thought upon the "Godey," with its fresh and uncut page, And longed for something pretty, my moments to engage.

It struck me that some pleasant chat would restore a cheerful tone, And rising with a sigh (for I, musing, sat alone), I gathered up my sewing and quickly took my way, Where it always wears an aspect bright, despite a rainy day.

But scarcely had I entered, ere there fell, distinct and clear, The sound of _cutting pages_ upon my wondering ear; There sat my quiet brother, this dismal afternoon, With my number in his hand, as I perceived full soon.

I asked, "Is that 'Littell' you have?" but I knew only too well The answer which I should receive, that it was not "Littell;" And had he read my wishes, and offered me the "Book," I would not have accepted; but I love the first, fresh look.

So I waited very patiently, and my reward was near; I saw that he was pleased, though it cost me rather dear; And when the day was closing, and the rain at last was done, I enjoyed the precious "Godey," and the glorious setting sun.

* * * * *

'TIS O'ER.

BY I. J. STINE.

'TIS o'er! the tender tie is broke Which bound my heart so close to thee; Though painful, though severe the stroke, I now can smile that I am free. The grief, the sorrow, and the woe That I was called to undergo, The bitter pangs, the heartfelt pain, All, all have ceased their tyrant reign.

'Twas but a moment's pain, 'tis gone; I'm happy, though unhappy now; And Melancholy, meek and wan, Sits peaceful on my thoughtful brow. The world, with all its loss and gain, Me neither pleasure gives nor pain; With thee, false, heartless one, with thee I lost all joy--all misery.

OUR PRACTICAL DRESS INSTRUCTOR

DESCRIPTION OF THE ENGRAVING.

_Headdress of the Lady on the Right._--Hair in bandeaux _à la Niobe;_ torsade of pearls. Moire dress, low body, with progressive revers opening over a modestie of embroidered muslin edged with lace; short open sleeves _à la Watteau;_ undersleeves of embroidered muslin; half-long gloves; bracelets of pearls, or more often worn different, according to choice.

_The other Figure_ (_Lady seated_).--Cap of tulle trimmed with lace and ribbon. Low body, with revers open to waist; loose bell-shaped sleeves, edged with a bouillonne; two skirts trimmed with the same; modestie of embroidered muslin, edged with point de Venise; black velvet bracelets, half-long gloves, and Venetian fan.

DESCRIPTION OF DIAGRAMS.

(_See next page._)

Fig. 1.--Front of body as shown in the engraving.

Fig. 2.--Back of body, by placing the letters _a_ _a_.

Fig. 3.--The cape sommet worn for evening dress. Place the letters _b_ _b_, the upper part of the cape forming an epaulette over the shoulder.

Fig. 4.--The sleeve, showing the muslin sleeve underneath, as in the engraving, _à Watteau_ shape, fastened by a bow of ribbon. We have given the pattern of the whole sleeve.

* * * * *

* * * * *

WORK-TABLE FOR JUVENILES;

OR,

LITTLE MARY'S HALF-HOLIDAY.

"WELL, my dear, I am glad to see you ready for work again."

"Here are six yards of pink satin ribbon, about an inch wide, some pink sarsnet, some card-board, black net, and plaited straw. What kind of straw is it, mamma?"

"It is called straw-beading, and is employed in the same way that split straw was once used; but as it is flexible, and to be had in any length, it is much more easily worked. Besides the things you have mentioned, there is some pink sewing silk, and a little stiff muslin. Now you have all your materials complete, and I have only to show you how to use them. Begin by cutting out the shape for the back of the watch-pocket. Here is a drawing of it. It is 7 inches long, and 4½ in the widest part. Mark the depth of three inches from the bottom, and form this into a half round, then cut it into a point from the widest part to the top. The lower part, which is for the pocket, is thus three inches deep, and the top four inches. You will require two pieces of card-board of this shape and size, which must be covered on both sides with pink silk. Tack them together round the edges."

"These pieces are for the backs. Are the fronts of the pockets made of card-board, too?"

"No; you will use the stiff muslin for them. They must be in the half circle form, 3 inches deep, but 5½ inches wide at the top. They must also be covered with silk on both sides. Now cut out two pieces of black net, rather larger than the backs, and two more (also allowing for turnings in) for the fronts. Do you remark anything peculiar in the net?"

"It is like the imitation netting you brought from Paris, mamma; is it not? The holes are perfect diamonds, and much larger than in any English net."

"Yes, it is part of that I brought with me. Being so open, it is easy to slip the straw through it. Take the end of the straw, pass it under two threads, and over three, in one line. Cut it off close to the edge of the net. Run in as many lines as you can in the same direction, but with intervals of four holes, five threads between them. Cross them with others in the same way, both straws passing under the _same_ hole when they cross. All the four pieces of net must be worked in the same way, and then tacked on, to cover the silk on one side. Now sew the fronts to the backs. The ribbon trimming must now be prepared. It is to be quilled in the centre, in the way called _box_ quilling; that is, one plait must be to the right, and the next to the left. Do enough for the top of each pocket separately, and put it on, then a length to go completely round. Finish each pocket with a knot of ribbon at the point, and a small loop to pin it to the bed."

"Do you know, mamma, I was inclined to think you had not matched the sarsnet and ribbon well? The sarsnet looked so much the darker. Now they correspond perfectly. How is that?"

"You forget that the sarsnet is covered with net, which softens the depth of the tint considerably. Had the covering been muslin, it must have been still deeper, to correspond with the uncovered ribbon. It is for want of the consideration of these small points that there is so frequently a want of harmony in the tints of amateur needlewomen."

"And now, mamma, what next? For I have a good deal of spare time still."

"You said you would like to work papa a pair of slippers, so I have contrived a design for you, which will use up all your remnants of wool. We will call it the dice pattern. Of each color you may use, you will require two shades with black and white. You can mark on your canvas the outline of the slippers with a soft pen and ink; then work from the drawing I have made, beginning at the toe. You may use any number of colors, only let them be well chosen, and falling in stripes. Do not put green and blue, or any other two colors which do not blend well, close together. You may try the effect with shades in the following order: violet, orange, green, crimson, blue. That part which is quite white in the drawing is done in white wool, and there are two spotted squares which are to be black. Then the upper side of each die is in the darker shade of whatever color may be used, and the under light. Fill it up with black. If you work on Penelope canvas, you will find it much easier."

* * * * *

EMBROIDERY.--DRESS UNDERSLEEVE.

(_See Brown Cut in front of Book._)

_Materials._--Half a yard of fine Swiss muslin; embroidery cotton, No. 100.

TRACE the pattern upon the muslin with a quill pen and blue mixed with gum-water; make the leaves, stems, and flowers in raised satin stitch; the circles in button-hole stitch, either making them close or open, as may be preferred; if close, a raised spot must be worked in the centre of each. Work the edge in button-hole stitch.

* * * * *

PATTERNS FOR EMBROIDERY.

* * * * *

EVANGELINE AND ANTOINETTE.

(See engravings on page 385.)

EVANGELINE.--Silk embroidered, and trimmed with two rows of guipure lace--one row of lace round the yoke, and one about ten inches from the bottom, each row headed with a narrow quilling of ribbon, which also goes down the front and round the neck. On the yoke and between the rows of lace there is handsome embroidery.

ANTOINETTE. _An entirely new pattern._--The mantilla is entirely formed of rows of lace or pinked silk on a silk or thin foundation.

* * * * *

LACE MANTILLA AND TABLET MANTILLA.

(See engravings on page 388.)

LACE MANTILLA.--This mantilla has three capes--the first is in depth twenty-three inches, the second eighteen inches, and the third fourteen inches, with lace edging to match. The collar is six inches in depth, with a bow of ribbon behind.

TABLET MANTILLA.--_Material._ Watered or plain silk. It is made with a yoke, and falls low on the shoulders. For trimming, it is cut in turrets, trimmed with narrow braid and netted fringe sewed underneath.

* * * * *

MARQUISE AND NAVAILLES.

(See engravings on page 389.)

MARQUISE.--_Silk Pelisse._ The body is close; it is trimmed with three rows of goffered ribbons disposed in arcades, and terminated at each point by loops of ribbons one over the other. A row of ribbons runs round the bottom of the body, which has also a lace trimming that falls over the opening of the sleeve. The skirt falls in flutes; it has three rows of ribbons and a lace flounce.

NAVAILLES.--_Shawl-Mantelet_, of taffetas trimmed with lace, fringe, and silk ribbons having velvet stripes. It opens like a shawl in front, and comes high behind. A lace of two inches in width turns down on the neck as far as the bow on the breast; a point falls behind like a little shawl, and is bordered with a ribbon sewed on flat, and a lace of about five inches, besides a fringe; in front this lace forms a bertha. The lower part of the garment, sewed on under the point, is rounded, and hangs in flutes behind. It is bordered with the same ribbon, accompanied by the same, and fringe. The ends in front are pointed.

* * * * *

SPRING FASHIONS.

(See engraving on page 390.)

Fig. 1. _Dress._--Skirt of steel-colored gray silk, without any trimming. Sachet of black velvet; the front opening to a point, and the basque rounded and edged with a deep fall of black lace set on rather full. The sleeves, which are demi-long and loose at the ends, are likewise edged with lace chemisette and undersleeves of worked muslin. A round cap of Honiton lace, the front edged with pointed vandykes. The cap is ornamented at each side with bows of ribbon having long flowing ends, edged with fringe. The ribbon has a white ground, and is figured with a pattern similar to that called the Victoria plaid. The bows are intermingled with bouquets of white roses. Hair bracelets, with snaps of gold and turquoise.

* * * * *

Fig. 2. _Little Girl's Dress._--Frock of dark blue glacé; the skirts ornamented with four narrow ruches of ribbon, placed two and two together. The corsage is in the jacket style, half high in the neck, and fitting closely to the form. The basque is edged with a double ruche of ribbon, which is carried up the front and round the top of the corsage. The sleeves just descend below the turn of the elbow, and are trimmed at the end with ribbon ruche. The undersleeves are of jaconet muslin, drawn in a full puff, confined at the wrists by bands of needlework insertion. The chemisette is high to the throat, and is formed of two rows of drawn muslin, divided by a row of needlework insertion, and finished at top by a row of the same. Short trousers of white cambric muslin edged with a bordering of needlework. The front hair banded on each side of the forehead; the back hair plaited, and the plaits turned up and fastened by rows of black velvet ribbon, two bands of which are passed across the forepart of the head.

* * * * *

Fig. 3. _Promenade, or Carriage Dress._--Robe of brown gros de naples. The skirt is trimmed with ten rows of black velvet, of graduated width. The corsage is low, square in front, and partly open; the opening being confined by bands of black velvet. The corsage has a basque at the waist, cut out in castellated ends which are edged with velvet. The sleeves are slit open to the height of the shoulder, and the opening is confined by bands of velvet, like those in front of the corsage. The chemisette is of worked muslin, and trimmed with Valenciennes lace. Undersleeves to correspond. Bonnet of white silk, ornamented with vine leaves and blonde. Undertrimming, a wreath of flowers.

* * * * *

DIRECTIONS FOR A LETTER-BAND.

(See engraving on page 391.)

_Materials._--One yard and a half of sarsnet ribbon, two inches in width, and of any color preferred; one bunch of steel beads, No. 5; some sewing silk of the same color as the ribbon, and some perforated cardboard one row narrower than the ribbon.

Mark the letters and border with the beads on the cardboard, which should be about four inches long; also a piece about two inches square, worked with beads in any ornamental pattern; fasten the longest piece of cardboard to the ribbon in the centre, stitching it at both edges, then sew the smaller piece about two inches nearer the end of the ribbon; sew a piece of the same ribbon under this small piece of cardboard at each end--this forms a loop for the ribbon to pass through. This completes the band.

* * * * *

THE ALBUERA.

(See engraving on page 392.)

This mantilla is one of great beauty. It is made of blue glacé silk, but can be in any choice color. Lavender and lustrous pearl and mode colors look especially well, as also the greens, in this garment. Its chief peculiarity consists in its square front and its fitting so as to just cut the edge of the shoulder. It is fastened at the top by a bow; the back falls with an easy fulness; it is embroidered.

* * * * *

DIRECTIONS FOR KNITTING A WORK-BASKET.

TAKE four needles, cast three stitches on each, knit plain round once; put thread over needle; knit once so all round. Then plain once round. Continue this process till there are five stitches between the times of widening. Plain round once; widen, knit four narrow so all round; plain round; widen, knit one, widen, knit three narrow so all round, plain round, widen, knit three, widen, knit two, narrow so all round, plain round, widen, knit five, widen, knit one, narrow so all round, plain round, widen, knit seven, widen, knit one, narrow so all round, plain round three times. Turn the basket inside out, knit three times round plain, put thread over needle and seam two in one all round, then twice plain. Continue this till you have six rows of eyelets, then two plain, three seamed, four plain. Then make one row of eyelets, knit three rows plain, hem down. Then your basket is done.

HOW TO FORM IT.--Prepare a solution of glue, dip your basket into it when it is _very wet_, wring it out, have your form ready to put it on, where it must lie for a day or two. Then you can paint it any color you like. The block on which it is put to dry can be round or not, as you prefer. If you wish a large one, cast on more stitches when you begin. Four on a needle makes a large size.

* * * * *

EMBROIDERY WITH CORD.

SPRING BONNETS.

IN accordance with the popular fashion of the day, we "open," in the present article, a group of the most tasteful bonnets of the season. We give them not only that our lady readers may see what is worn, but as models for their own fair fingers. Is it known to them that bonnet-making is now quite a fashion among those skilful in fancy-work, the most sensible branch we have seen adopted for many years? Why should not the taste and ingenuity exercised in lamp-mats of old, and crochet tidies of the present day, be as well displayed in the light and graceful task of millinery? The neatness and patience required in covering the card-board of an ingenious needle-book can be more fully exercised in disposing the folds of silk and lace on the well-shaped frame easily procured for a trifle.

The peculiar trait of the hats of the present season is the great quantity of mixed materials, as crape, silk, lace, flowers, and ribbon, on one very small structure. Great taste is to be exercised in mingling these judiciously--ornamenting, not overloading; in the first place, selecting a good model as to shape and style.

No. 1 we have chosen for its simplicity. It is composed of three rows of pink crape or silk, drawn in a puffing, with a blonde edging rather wide on each. The crown is entirely of lace, and there is a fall of the same on the cape. A knot of pink satin bows, to the right, is all the decoration of the exterior. A full cap of blonde, with one or two pink bows, carelessly disposed, inside the brim.

No. 2 shows the extreme of the shallow brim, and two-thirds of the wearer's head at the same time. It is, notwithstanding, a neat and modest-looking dress bonnet of pomona green silk, the crown piece, which is in full flutings, extending almost to the edge of the brim. This is crossed by a band of the same with bound edges (old style). The front is a very full double _ruche_ of blonde, between the two green silk cordings. A full cap of the same fills the space between the face and the brim, with a spray of flowers set very high to the right.

No. 3.--A more elaborate hat of straw-colored silk and white guipure lace. It has a small plume on the left, and has a full spray of bridal roses inside the brim.

No. 4 shows the disposition of lace and bow at the back of a crown, a great point in the millinery of the present season; a stiff crown will ruin a graceful brim.

* * * * *

PLAIN WORK.

WE often find our correspondents writing, "Are there any new patterns for underclothes?" "Can you send me a good night-cap pattern?" etc. etc. This has suggested to us the plan of publishing designs for plain as well as ornamental needlework, and we commence the present month by two selected from the large establishment of Madame Demorest, late of Canal Street, now of 375 Broadway, New York. Besides the infinite variety of outer garments, children's clothing, etc., to which we have before alluded, Madame Demorest has patterns of everything for a lady's under wardrobe, in sets or singly, so arranged as to look exactly like the garment itself; and, as they can be sent by mail, there is thus an end to the necessity of begging and borrowing in every direction through a country neighborhood.

An article of practical instructions in the art of plain-sewing, for it is, indeed, an art, will be given from time to time. It is a great pity that this knowledge has, in most cases, to be acquired by the married woman. We think it should be considered an essential part of the education of the daughter. All the pages of instruction that may be written or read upon the subject, can never give that aptitude and ease in the performance of this very necessary household duty, which would be acquired by seeing how others do it, and being taught while young to take a part in the operation. A young mother who is not a dressmaker or seamstress by profession, but who can quietly cut out and make any article of dress that may be wanted, is looked upon by her companions as a sort of marvellous prodigy. "Oh, how can you do it?" "Well, I never had any genius that way!" are their exclamations. And why have they no genius that way? In most cases, it is simply because they have been taught at some "seminary for young ladies" to despise such employments as mean and vulgar. Those who have genius enough to knit fancy patterns, or work bunches of flowers upon canvas, are quite capable of learning how to employ their needle for useful household purposes. But express a wish to those who by profession undertake the education of girls, that your children should learn to employ the needle usefully, and you will most likely be told, "Oh, we really have not time to attend to that; there is so much else that must be learned, we cannot undertake plain needlework." And what does all that is learned tend to? Frequently, to little more than a smattering of this and that, by which the learner hopes to gain admiration, and eventually a husband. Even the few years that are sometimes spent at home, between school-days and marriage, are wasted in visiting and frivolity and gaining a husband. How to fulfil those duties which such an acquisition brings upon her, seems to be a problem which may be answered by the assertion, "Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof." In many respects, those children who are taught in public schools are really better educated for domestic life than the children of the classes a rank or two higher, who are brought up in boarding-schools or day schools for young ladies. However, pages and volumes might usefully be written on the inappropriate mode of bringing up the daughters of families, who have nothing or little beside their own exertions to look to for their maintenance; but this is not our present object. Many there are who would willingly exchange the frivolities learned at school for a knowledge how to make out and plan the clothes of their families; and, for the benefit of such, we will endeavor, as far as paper and print can do it, to teach them.

The present models are--

Fig. 1.--A night-dress with plaited front and full sleeves, an extremely neat and excellent pattern, designed and furnished by Madame Demorest. The back may be either full in a yoke, or of a sacque form.

Fig. 2 is also one of Madame Demorest's designs, a chemise, plaited front, and highly ornamented yoke, as is the present style. The embroidery is with linen floss, and will wear as long as the garment, a great matter in trimming. The shape combines neatness and ease, and will be found extremely comfortable.

EDITORS' TABLE.

WE have before us several letters from writers of influence and high consideration in different sections of our country, making inquiries respecting the progress of Female Medical Education. We cannot refuse these earnest appeals for information, and, as we trust our myriad readers will feel an interest more or less in the subject, we shall give the response to all who gather around our Table.

The third annual commencement of the Female Medical College of Pennsylvania, located in Philadelphia, was held on the 25th of February last, when the Degree of Doctor of Medicine was conferred by the President, Charles D. Cleveland, on four ladies--Elizabeth H. Bates, New York; Lucinda R. Brown, Texas; Minna Elliger, Germany; and Elizabeth G. Shattuck, Pennsylvania--the latter belonging to the Medical Missionary _protégées_ preparing to go out to China or India, as opportunity may offer. The number of students in this college during the past session was about thirty, and the applications for admittance to the privileges of the institution for the next session, commencing October 2, are already numerous and earnest.

There is only _one_ obstacle, viz., _the want of funds_. Those young women and widows wishing to enter on this study are, usually, poor. The expenses for board and books are all they can meet. If the college were endowed, so that the tuition fees for all might be reduced to the lowest sum[B] named for beneficiaries, while these last were admitted _free_ of college charges, the school would be crowded. Are there none among the rich of this city and State who will lend a helping hand to this noble work of qualifying women to become physicians for their own sex? _Fifty thousand_ dollars invested, so that the interest could be annually applied for the benefit of the institution, would be sufficient. There would thus be open a way by which those women who have talents for the profession might enter on the study. What a blessing this would be to them and to society! The sufferings which delicacy imposes on the sex, while compelled to submit their complaints to the knowledge of the male physician only, are shocking, and often fatal--because concealment leads to death. Such a state of ignorance in regard to all that pertains to the preservation of health and cure of diseases should no longer be permitted to prevail among those who have the direct and sole care of infancy, and are the nurses and watchers by the sick. The good results of educating women for the profession are thus truly set forth in the interesting "Valedictory Address," by Dr. Elwood Harvey, one of the Faculty of the Female Medical College:--

* * * * *

WHAT FEMALE PHYSICIANS CAN DO.--"No intelligent person doubts that, if we were _obedient_ to the laws of health, so far as they are now understood, sickness and suffering would be greatly diminished. The average of human life would be prolonged, and its usefulness and happiness increased. In the earliest ages of which we have any recorded history, rules for the preservation of health, and regulations for the prevention of diseases, constitute a conspicuous part of the legal code."

* * * * *

"In this country, where the people govern themselves, it is the people that must be enlightened, that they may govern themselves wisely. Though there is not a more law-abiding nation on the earth, we are blessed in having but few laws to be obeyed. There is a larger individual liberty here than elsewhere, and consequently a greater individual responsibility. It is to the _people_, then, that you are to convey a knowledge of the laws that govern their being. You have ample scope for usefulness in this capacity. In your own sex, you will find wives and mothers, ignorant of their own constitutions, bringing wretchedness and misery upon themselves, discomfort and suffering upon their families, and, worse than all, entailing enfeebled constitutions and diseases upon their offspring. To enlighten these, to teach them the duty they owe to themselves, to their families, to society, to posterity, and to Him who created them, and instituted the laws they violate, is your peculiar province. Do this, and the world will owe you a debt it can never repay--but you will have your reward."

* * * * *

FEMALE PHYSICIANS WANTED.--"Some of the obstacles that oppose the entrance of the young practitioner to a remunerative practice will offer less than their usual amount of resistance to you. It commonly happens that the young physician has to wait long years of probation, during which much work has to be done for small pay before he begins to reap the full reward of his labors. Not only is it necessary for him to acquire a reputation for skill and attention to business, but a respectable age must be attained before he can hope to be employed in some of the most profitable departments of practice. With you the case is very different; there is an existing demand for your services which none others can so well supply. Each city in this country is ready to give employment to a large number of female physicians, each lesser town and country village is waiting for one or more; numerous applications from various parts of the country have been made for female physicians. At a moderate computation, we may estimate the number now in actual demand in this country at not less than five thousand. You are wanted for a kind of practice that most male physicians would gladly relinquish to you, whenever they are convinced that you have been regularly educated, and are competent to perform the duties of the position you have assumed."

* * * * *

WHILE on this subject, we will give here an original article, written for our "Book" by a professor in another institution,[C] which shows that this liberal feeling towards female practitioners is fast gaining public favor in this city:--

LADIES' MEDICAL EDUCATION.--That it would be very useful and conducive to the health and happiness of families, if the mothers of families, and women in general, were familiar with the principal doctrines of anatomy, physiology, and pathology, so as to understand, to some degree, the organization, functions, and diseases of the human system, there cannot be any doubt. But whether it be in accordance with the natural position of woman in society to take upon herself the office, labors, and responsibilities of a physician is another question, which need not here be decided. So much, however, may be said with propriety, without at all deciding the question alluded to, that such ladies as are desirous of obtaining a full medical education, and devoting themselves to the study of the medical sciences in good earnest, ought not to be refused such an education, but have as much chance given to them as the other sex enjoy. For, however we may disagree respecting the propriety of woman practising medicine as a profession, certainly her _knowledge_ of medicine cannot be detrimental to the good of society. If a more general diffusion of medical knowledge among the ladies had no other effect than to enforce a higher standard of education among the physicians on one side, and to annihilate the greatest bane of ignorance, quackery, on the other side, this alone would be a sufficient reason for spreading "more light" among the ladies, though it be "medical."

We cannot, therefore, see any harm in the establishment of female medical schools, but would suggest the propriety of organizing them in such a manner that their teachings should not be confined to the comparatively few ladies who enter them for a full medical education; but also be made accessible to the generality of ladies, especially young ladies, who do not want a "professional" education in medicine, but who would study some branches, such as anatomy, physiology, pathology, and perhaps chemistry, natural philosophy, and botany, with much delight and profit, without asking for a diploma, but to carry the delightful satisfaction with them that they possess that which may save themselves and others around them untold disease and suffering, and protect them against all sorts of knavery and quackery, not to speak of the accomplishments and intellectual joys such studies are apt to give to ladies.

* * * * *

A VERY SENSIBLE DOCTOR.--Dr. J. Wilson, of Alabama, proposes, in the _Southern Medical Journal_, that female classes be formed in our medical colleges for instruction in anatomy--excluding the surgical and pathological--human physiology, medical chemistry, materia medica, and all female diseases. We hope those who have the direction of medical education will act on this hint. Why should woman be excluded from the study of medicine? She is the Heaven-appointed guardian of the sick and of helpless infancy; she should know how to preserve health and how to restore it.

* * * * *

THE PRACTICAL.--We have lately met with a rather astounding and extremely practical proposition, well suited to the genius of our nation. We, the mightiest people on the face of the globe, will not allow our scenery to remain scenery without some Barnum-like investment upon it. We do not intend that our natural curiosities shall continue natural. Jonathan must make his playthings useful, else he may as well fling them behind him. The Falls of Niagara have been too long exempt from the common lot; it is time they should be trained to propriety and productiveness. No doubt it is extremely fine to see them wandering at their own wild will, plunging madly down the precipice; but will any one pretend to say that in all this there is anything practical? The fact is, Niagara is of no use to us, and we can no longer tolerate her as a drone; she must be forced to work. Let her be made the motive power of numberless mills and manufactories. Thus would be secured a noble union of Nature and Art! How much more manly and suggestive than the common rhymes addressed to her grandeur and magnificence would be some such invocation as the following:--

Oh, thou that grindest buckwheat on thy way, Free and unfettered on thy watery wing, Creation's wonder! How much corn a day Doth thy sublimity to flour bring?

We wonder what our nation would do with Mont Blanc if they had it? Place an ice-cream freezing establishment on its summit, perhaps; or tunnel it, _à la_ Thames, and settle a Yankee colony within. We shall next expect to hear that Mammoth Cave has been partitioned off into comfortable apartments, to let to small families. Rooms containing stalactites extra charge, as in such cases clothes-pins would be unnecessary.

Imperial Rome folds her mantle grandly around her, and sits in magnificent sadness at the base of her broken statues and fallen temples--Niobe weeping for her children. Young America strides along in broadcloth and beaver, and only sees that the statue might have been a mantle-piece, or the temple a machine-shop. He forgets whence the money-changers and sellers of doves were driven, because they made the Father's house a house of merchandise. He does not see that stars burn brighter than patent oil, or that earth was intended for another purpose than a plantation. He is more eager to manufacture the napkin than to improve the talent within it. His life is practical; his body is practical; his soul is practical. He would make death and eternity practical, if he only knew how to do it.

Oh, Niagara! are the clanking of machinery and the noise of the water-wheel to be thy dirge? Shall a saw-mill be located on Goat Island, or a stove-foundry near Table Rock? Shall thy rainbow span the summit of a comb manufactory, or thy spray fall silvery on a button establishment? Shall we bewail thy beauty and grandeur forever, as we cry, "Niagara has fallen--has fallen into a mill-dam!"

* * * * *

THE SPRING-TIME COMETH.

The Spring-time cometh with her buds and flowers; But ah, those buds and flowers I ne'er may see! The Spring-time cometh with her rosy hours, But not for me.

The birds will sing, among the vales and highlands, Sweet as they sang in the glad days of yore, And lilies fair will circle yonder islands For me no more.

For me no more the sparkle of the river, Where droop the willows, fairest of the fair; For me no more the joys a bounteous Giver Sends everywhere.

But scatter o'er my grave the buds and flowers-- The buds and flowers that I may never see; And, as ye see depart those rosy hours, Think, think of me.

H. L. S.

* * * * *

HERE is a prose sketch on the same ever-fertile subject, the writer modestly styling her collection, "_Shells from the Shore of Thought:_"--

SPRING.--Would that thoughts on Spring would spring up in my mind radiant as the gentle flowers which the clarion voice of Spring awakens from their wintry slumber! Would that I could array these thoughts in eloquence as glorious as the vesture which she gives the lovely flowers!

She casts around them a mantle of vivid green, lifts their modest heads beneath a pearly veil of mist, and crowns them with a diadem of dew-drops, which the morning sunlight transmutes to amethysts and rubies, emeralds and diamonds.

But, sad to say, my thoughts are less like the flowers, and more like the seed of that tribe (thistle, &c.) which float through the air on a silken sail in quest of a place of repose. Some find them bright homes in lands far away, like the thoughts of the gifted, which become household words; but others, the silk of whose sail is not fine, float adrift on the waves, to be lost, like my thoughts, in the ocean of years.

Spring is the symbol of the resurrection; flowers, of the human race. In the autumn of life, man falls asleep like the flowers; but the icy reign of the winter of death is broken by the glorious springtide of immortality, where the circling seasons are no more, where there is neither death nor tears.

* * * * *

MEMORY.--Pleasure paints the Present, Memory paints the Past, Hope paints the Future, and spans its shadowy portals with an arch of light, radiant as the sunbow o'er the cataract. Memory tortures the wicked and consoles the righteous. When the sunlight of Hope wanes away from the landscape of life, then the moonlight of Memory its shadowy lustre sheds o'er the scene. Memory--a stereotyped edition of the Past. Memory--as the moonlight is to sunlight, so is Memory unto Hope.

* * * * *

MUSIC.--Sacred music--that which on earth wakes an echo in heaven. Music, the soother of the sorrowing. Music, the praises of One who loves us; notes which dwell in the heart, like the lingering perfume of withering violets, when the voice which created the beautiful music is silent forever on earth.

* * * * *

LOVE.--Life is a tangled web, but through its woof there runs the golden thread of Love.

* * * * *

PHILADELPHIA HIGH SCHOOL FOR GIRLS.--When is this institution to be opened? _The High School for Boys_ has been sustained in the most liberal manner many years, and now a new and costly edifice for the school is nearly prepared. Will not the men of Philadelphia add beauty as well as strength to the recent act of "Consolidation," by founding a HIGH SCHOOL FOR GIRLS?

* * * * *

A GREAT DUTY WHICH IS IMPOSED UPON MOTHERS.--Listen, good mothers: this is not a question of one of those idle studies, the only aim of which is to stock the memory; it concerns an important question, the most important which can be agitated on the earth; so important, that the manner in which you resolve it will decide, without appeal of your moral life and death, of the moral life and death of your children. It is not only a matter that regards yourselves, but also the flesh of your flesh, the blood of your blood; those poor little creatures, whom you have brought into this world, with passions, vices, love, hatred, pain, and death; for these are, in truth, what they have received from you with the life of the body; and these will, indeed, be miserable presents, if you do not also give them the life of the soul; that is to say, arms wherewith to fight, and a light whereby to direct themselves.

You are mothers according to the laws of our material nature, with all the love of a hen which watches over its little ones, and covers them with its wings. I come to ask you to be mothers according to the laws of our divine nature, with all the love of a soul called upon to form souls.

Assure yourselves well whether or not you owe to your children only the milk of your breasts, and the instruction of the intelligence; and if you interrogate the Gospel and nature, take heed to their answer--"Man does not live by bread alone, but by the word of truth."

Truth is that which renders man free; it is the voice which calls us to the love of God and of our neighbor, and to virtue.

Error, on the contrary, is that which renders us slaves to the passions of others and to our own; it is that which causes us to sacrifice our conscience to fortune, to honors, to glory, to vice.

Thus, virtue springs from truth; crime from error; whence we may infer that a good treatise on education can only be in the end the search after truth.

The destiny of your children depends then on the solicitude with which you engage in this search. You may open out to them the road to happiness, and precede them in it. A delightful task, which calls for all the powers of your soul, and which will place you in the presence of God, of nature, of your children, and of yourselves.

And mark well all that nature has done towards accomplishing this difficult work. In the first place, she has brought you near to the truth which is in her, by detaching your sex from almost all the ambitions which debase our own; and secondly, she has given your love to the tenderness of little children, at the same time that she has filled their hearts with innocence, and their minds with curiosity. Can you doubt the object of your mission, when you perceive the sweet harmonies which unite them to you? Nature attaches them to your bosoms, awakens them by your caresses; she wills that they should owe everything to you, so that, after having received from you life and thought, these earthly angels await your inspirations, in order to believe and to love.--_L. Aimé Martin._

* * * * *

TO CORRESPONDENTS.--The following articles are accepted: "And I heard a voice saying, Come up hither," "Secret Love," "The Lost Pleiad," "To a Friend on his Marriage," and "To ----." A number of long articles on hand have not been examined; will be reported next month.

The following are declined, many of them because we have not room. Our drawers are "full" of accepted articles, which may have to wait till the writers suffer greater disappointment than a rejection at first would have inflicted. So we return a number of the contributions sent us last month, as their authors request, though we do not usually comply with such conditions. Those who send articles to us should keep a copy of the MS.; we cannot answer for its safe return. We decline "Coming Events," "Her eyes are with her heart," &c., "To Ada, with a Bouquet," "Our Thoughts," "The Dying Girl's Request," "The Wail of a Broken Heart," "The Child's Wish," "Lines on the Birth of a Child," "The Deserted Lady," "Regina," "Cold Water," "Never say Die," "A Great Prize," "My Friends," and "Conversation."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote B: For the encouragement of ladies whose means will not allow of the usual expenditure, a limited number of students will be admitted on the payment of twenty dollars per session, exclusive of the matriculation and graduation fees. Such arrangements will be strictly confidential, and no distinction in point of courtesy and attention will be made between the beneficiary and other students.

For further information, or for copies of the Annual Announcement, application may be made to the Dean, David J. Johnson, 229 Arch Street, Philadelphia.]

[Footnote C: The Penn Medical University.]

Literary Notices.

BOOKS BY MAIL.--Now that the postage on printed matter is so low, we offer our services to procure for our subscribers or others any of the books that we notice. Information touching books will be cheerfully given by inclosing stamp to pay return postage.

* * * * *

From HARPER & BROTHERS, New York, through LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, Philadelphia:--

THE U. S. GRINNELL EXPEDITION IN SEARCH OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. _A Personal Narrative._ By Elisha Kent Kane, M. D., U. S. N. As Americans, we certainly have reason to feel, and may therefore be permitted to express an honest pride and gratification in the rapid contributions which our countrymen are continually presenting to the various departments of literature and science. Among the more recent and most valuable of these and similar contributions is the beautiful volume the title of which stands at the head of this article. In 1850, Mr. Grinnell, an eminent merchant of New York, actuated by a most humane and liberal spirit, fitted out two of his own vessels and proffered them gratuitously to the government to be employed in an expedition to the Arctic region, in search of Sir John Franklin, who had not been heard from after the 26th of July, 1850. The officers of this expedition were appointed by the navy department. It was commanded by Lieut. Edwin J. De Haven, and its first surgeon was Dr. E. K. Kane, who, at the request of the commander, became the historian of their perilous and romantic voyage. We say romantic, because the scenes to which we are introduced by the graphic pen of the doctor seem more like the creations of the imagination than the realities of sober observation, or the experience of personal adventure. In addition to the historical, scientific, and descriptive merits of the work, it is profusely and beautifully illustrated by fine mezzotints and wood-engravings.

* * * * *

From D. APPLETON & CO., No. 200 Broadway, New York, through C. G. HENDERSON & CO., corner of Fifth and Arch Streets, Philadelphia:--

BOYS AT HOME. By C. Adams, author of "Edward Clifton," etc. Illustrated by John Gilbert. This is an English story, written especially for the moral instruction and encouragement of young persons in adverse circumstances. It inculcates the highest principles of duty and honor, and, at the same time, shows the necessity of perseverance in the accomplishment of virtuous designs.

THE CHEMISTRY OF COMMON LIFE. By James F. W. Johnson. It should be read by the million, for it informs us all about the air we breathe, the water we drink, the soil we cultivate, and the plant we rear. The dedication is to Sir David Brewster, one of the most eminent scientific men in England. We shall make some extracts from the work for our June number.

THE SUNSHINE OF GREYSTONE. _A Story for Girls._ By E. J. May, author of "Louis's Schoolboy Days." This is a handsome volume, with many beautiful illustrations. Its greatest beauties, however, will be found in the good sense, the high moral tone, and in the pure religious feeling which pervade its printed pages.

* * * * *

From J. S. REDFIELD, 110 and 112 Nassau Street, New York, through W. B. ZIEBER, Philadelphia:--

THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS. By Frederick Dinison Maurice, M. A., Chaplain of Lincoln's Inn. From the second London edition. With a new preface and other additions. The author of this work is a learned clergyman of the Established Church of England. The volume contains seventeen essays on subjects intimately connected with the dogma of that church, and explanatory of the general teachings of Christianity. These essays were originally a series of discourses delivered before the author's own congregation, and embraced numerous topics which he desired to bring under the notice of Unitarians. They therefore partake of a controversial spirit, but in a mild and charitable form.

THE WORKINGMAN'S WAY IN THE WORLD. _Being the Autobiography of a Journeyman Printer._ This volume furnishes us with what purports to be the true, and certainly is the very interesting history of the struggles of an English journeyman printer.

CLASSIC AND HISTORIC PORTRAITS. By James Bruce. This volume is devoted to a description of the personal appearance of a long list of celebrated persons, male and female, ancient and modern, commencing with Sappho, and ending with Madame de Stael. The peculiarities of character, which accompany the "descriptive list," render this volume interesting and instructive in a high degree.

* * * * *

From TICKNOR, REED, & FIELDS, Boston:--

LETTERS TO A YOUNG MAN, AND OTHER PAPERS. By Thomas De Quincey, author of "Confessions of an English Opium-Eater," etc. etc. Exclusive of the "Letters," five in number, this volume contains seven essays: 1. Theory of Greek Tragedy; 2. Conversation; 3. Language; 4. French and English Language; 5. California and the Gold Mania; 6. Ceylon; 7. Presence of Mind; in all which the great reputation of the author as an instructive and philosophical writer is fully sustained.

* * * * *

SECOND INAUGURAL ADDRESS OF HIS EXCELLENCY, JOHN BIGLER, _Governor of the State of California_. Such is the title of a pamphlet sent us from the press of George Kerr, State Printer, Benicia, and the address is worthy of being thus distributed over the whole country. It is a clear and able exposition of the progress and resources of that wonderful portion of our Union. Aladdin, with his genii, could hardly have effected greater changes than gold and the genius of American freedom have effected in California. We are much obliged to the friend who sent us this excellent address. The name of Bigler should be highly honored in Pennsylvania.

* * * * *

WESTERN DEMOCRATIC REVIEW. George P. Buell, Editor and Publisher: Indianapolis, Jan., 1854. This is a new periodical, whose table of contents embraces a variety of subjects, social, political, poetical, biographical, and miscellaneous. We welcome every such manifestation of the growth, the prosperity, and the mental vigor of the Great West. The editor is evidently a man of ability and enterprise, and his articles, varied as they are, are all written with spirit, and show a truly liberal and patriotic mind.

* * * * *

THE SOUTHERN QUARTERLY REVIEW. C. Mortimer, Publisher: Charleston, S. C. We have often wondered that, excepting in political matters, the South has so long been willing to do without a literature of its own. We are glad to see that, at last, a publication devoted to subjects of general interest, as well as to politics, seems to meet with the success it deserves. The articles in it are written evidently with care and thought, and, although generally of too abstruse a nature to interest ladies, there are one or two lighter articles, pleasant chronicles of the olden time, which can hardly fail to please. Rich as South Carolina is in such themes, both from its old Huguenot ancestry, and from the characteristic earnestness with which it threw itself into the Revolutionary struggle, it needs only some one with the patient and devoted spirit of the antiquary to rescue from oblivion many scenes and incidents of romantic interest. The political articles, exclusively Southern as they are in thought and sentiment, yet, by their earnestness and acumen, justify the boast that the South is the birth-place of politicians.

* * * * *

From PARRY & MCMILLAN (successors to A. Hart late Carey & Hart), corner of Fourth and Chestnut Streets, Philadelphia:--

THE PLANTER'S NORTHERN BRIDE. _A Novel._ By Caroline Lee Hentz, author of "Linda," "Rena," "Eoline," etc. etc. We have not had time to become acquainted with the true character of this novel. We have read sufficient, however, to enable us to say that it is an effort to reconcile the difficulties that are sometimes supposed to exist between "true" lovers on account of their geographical positions. The name of the popular author will be the best recommendation we could give of her work. The volumes sent us are of the cheap edition, with paper covers, price fifty cents each. We are told that an edition is published with six engravings, two volumes, cloth gilt, $1 50. We might have been enabled to speak more confidently of the merits of the work, had we been favored with the plates.

* * * * *

From HENRY CAREY BAIRD (successor to E. L. Carey), No. 7 Hart's Buildings, Sixth Street above Chestnut, Philadelphia:--

CORINNE; OR, ITALY. By Madame de Staël. Translated by Isabel Hill; with metrical versions of the odes by L. E. Landon. This is a new and very beautifully printed edition of a work which, from its earliest publication, has continued to be read, admired, and criticised by persons of literary taste and judgment in all the languages of civilized Europe. It cannot fail therefore to prove highly interesting to that portion of our readers who may not have had an opportunity of perusing it in the original French of the celebrated author.

VATHEK: _an Arabian Tale_. By William Beckford, Esq. With a memoir of the author, and notes critical and explanatory. "Vathek" is an Eastern tale, written before the author had attained his twentieth year, and was composed at a single sitting of three days and two nights. For more than seventy years it has held the highest rank among similar works of imagination. It was a great favorite with Byron, who preferred it even to "Rasselas." In its descriptions of oriental costumes and of the manners of the people, its correctness has been established by writers of judgment, and, for "exquisite humor and supernatural interest and grandeur," is declared to stand without a rival in romance.

NOVELS, SERIALS, PAMPHLETS, &c.

From John P. Jewett & Co., Boston, and Jewett, Proctor, & Worthington, Cleveland, Ohio, through Cowperthwait, Desilver, & Butler, Philadelphia: "The Lamplighter." This is a tale of unusual interest, written in a clear, natural style.

From Ticknor, Reed, & Fields, Boston: "The Barclays of Boston." By Mrs. Harrison Gray Otis. A domestic story of great merit.

From D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway, New York, through C. G. Henderson & Co., Philadelphia: "Marie Louise; or, the Opposite Neighbors." By Emilie Carlen, author of "John; or, Is a Cousin in hand worth two in the Bush?" etc. Translated from the Swedish. The author of this tale is deservedly popular, as well on account of the beauty of her style, as because she is always endeavoring to inculcate the purest morals.

From Blanchard & Lea, Philadelphia: Nos. 1 and 2 "Orr's Circle of the Sciences." A series of treatises on every branch of human knowledge. No. 1. On the Nature, Connection, and Uses of the great departments of Human Knowledge. By the Editor. No. 2. The Physiology of Animal and Vegetable Life. By the Editor and Professor Owen. With numerous illustrations. Price 15 cents. These are the first numbers of a work now publishing in London, designed to present in a popular style and condensed space the leading facts and principles of the various departments of human knowledge. The editors of this valuable series are persons of the highest reputation.

From T. B. Peterson, 102 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia: "Kate Clarendon; or, Necromancy in the Wilderness." By Emerson Bennett. This is a very interesting and romantic tale of the West, connected with the first settlements on the Ohio River.--"Miriam Alroy." A Romance of the Twelfth Century. By B. D'Israeli, M. P. Three English volumes complete in one. Price 37 cents.

From Bunce & Brothers, New York, through T. B. Peterson, Philadelphia: "Carlington Castle: a Tale of the Jesuits." By C. G. H., author of "The Curate of Linwood," etc. This is the story of an Irish heiress, who suffered a fierce persecution and imprisonment in the British dominions, on account of her religious opinions.

From Partridge & Britain, New York: "An Epic of the Starry Heaven." By Thomas L. Harris. There are undoubtedly a great many very high poetical flights in this volume, but really we are unable to judge of their claims to peculiar inspiration or spirituality. We must leave those claims, which we find enforced in the introduction, to the decision of the "spiritualists," with whose peculiar tests we have not yet become familiar.

* * * * *

"THE THREE BELLS QUICKSTEP."--Another of D. B. Williamson's beautiful productions. We cannot do better than publish the following letter from Captain Crighton:--

"NEW YORK, _Feb. 18, 1854_.

"D. B. Williamson, Esq., South Fifth Street, Philadelphia.

"DEAR SIR: Your kind note of the 15th, and _four_ copies of the nautical song, were received this day.

"Among all the many expressions of gratitude which I have received from the American nation, for my simple duty towards suffering humanity, there are none I prize more highly than the song of my gallant ship, 'The Three Bells;' she, too, behaved nobly, and you are the first to acknowledge her merits. 'Permit me to write the songs of my country, and I care not who makes her laws,' said one who understood human nature, and I would hope through your instrumentality the name of my good ship will become a household word.

"Yours, very respectfully, "ROBERT CRIGHTON."

* * * * *

We are in receipt of another piece of music, "Happy Hearts make Shining Faces;" a very happy title, and very pretty music and words.

* * * * *

"THE LITTLE FORESTER," published at Cincinnati, is an excellent publication for children, and, we are happy to hear, is doing well. The terms are only 25 cents a year, or twenty-five copies for $5. We designed to say something in this number about the "Little Pilgrim," but we have not received the last number; yet we see it noticed elsewhere.

Godey's Arm-Chair.

OUR MAY NUMBER.--Another fine display of patterns; beautiful steel plate; colored fashions; crochet patterns; novelties of different kinds. We do not wish to boast; but we think that there is no magazine in the country which gives the variety we do. The ladies may depend upon one thing, that what we give is "the fashion;" and from the patterns that we can furnish them, nicely trimmed, they can make up their dresses, and be in time with the fashions here, for ours are always published in advance. We lead, and what we give is sure to be followed.

* * * * *

OUR COLORED FASHION PLATE.--Again we lead, with the fashions, not only in the novelty of style, but in the beauty of the engraving and coloring.

* * * * *

"JOHN, why has the mill stopped?" "There is no water, sir." John's reason was certainly a very good one. Well, we don't intend to stop; but we should like our subscribers to know that money to us is like water to the mill. Ladies, please look at the extract from a letter in another part of our "Arm-Chair," and see how a wife jogged her husband's memory to know if he had paid for the "Book."

* * * * *

WE have published four editions of our January number, three of February, and, up to this time, two of March. Another edition of the last number is about going to press. From present prospects, we shall have to print another edition of January and February soon.

* * * * *

MEMBERS OF CONGRESS.--Gentlemen, we cannot thank you separately, but we do collectively, for all the documents you have been so kind as to favor us with.

* * * * *

WE are complimented on all sides for keeping up the same number of pages and embellishments we commenced the year with. We intend to do it.

* * * * *

IF we had but one subscriber, and even if his name was Smith, and we were to receive a letter requesting his "Book" sent to the place where he "now resides," we should be able to make the alteration; but, among 60,000 names, how can we find out where a subscriber's "Book" _has been sent_, unless we are informed? We are led to these remarks by our continually receiving letters requesting the "Lady's Book" sent to "this place." Once for all, we must always be informed where the "Book" _has been sent to_.

* * * * *

ONE WORD OF ADVICE.--When a person purporting to be a travelling agent offers the "Lady's Book" at less than $3 a year, you may set him down as an impostor. The Balt County "Advocate" says that a person named James Rogers has been in that neighborhood offering the "Book" at $2, and has succeeded in getting a great many subscribers. That is it; to save a dollar, those persons who subscribed lost two. If you want a magazine, the best way to get it is to send your money direct to the publisher.

* * * * *

SEWING-MACHINES.--We will purchase and forward these machines on receipt of the money. See advertisement on cover of April number.

* * * * *

OUR PATTERNS.--Ladies do not seem to be aware that these patterns are _fac-similes_ of the originals in color, trimming, &c. At a distance, they would be taken for the garment itself. They could be worn in a _tableau_ without being detected.

* * * * *

WE do not doubt it, but wishing the ladies to be fully convinced about the superiority of our fashion plates, we will trouble them to read the following notices: The "St. Clair Observer" says: "The colored fashion plates, and Godey is the only man in the Union that gives them, are magnificent and reliable." The "Fort Plain Phœnix" says: "His fashion plate is the most exquisite one we ever saw." The "Crescent Eagle" says: "The fashion plate is the best that we have ever seen." The "Ohio Register" says: "Its fashion plates are ahead of any we have ever seen." That settles the question; if not, we have some five hundred more notices to the same effect.

* * * * *

"THE beautiful engraving of 'Christ Healing the Sick' is unparalleled in the history of magazine plates. Among the crowd of readers who carelessly glance at such an engraving, but few there are who appreciate the vast amount of thought and labor expended by none but first-rate artists upon it, and the consequent outlay on the part of a generous publisher in freely offering such gems of art to the public. The fruit of months, nay, sometimes years, of unmitigated toil, taxing the eyes and brain, are thus laid before and received by the masses, without a thought on the part of the latter as to what it cost to furnish the feast."

The foregoing is from the Louisville "Great Valley Trader," a paper of immense circulation in Louisville, Ky. How true are the remarks! To engrave the plate mentioned would take one man, and he must be an excellent artist, at least four months, working eight hours a day, which are about as many hours as an engraver can work. By the time the plate reached us it cost nearly $500. It took four months steady work to print our edition, at a cost of $375; the paper cost $200. To sum up, it was eight months from the time that the engraver took the plate in hand before we could place it before our subscribers, and the whole cost of this one embellishment was $1,075. This is only one item of the expense of a number of the "Lady's Book." Our business, it will be perceived, requires us to look ahead. Eight months is a long time to wait for one engraving.

* * * * *

CORRECTION.--In our April number, we stated that the price of mantilla patterns was $1. It should have been 62½ cents. We can supply patterns of all the dress articles we publish, jewelry, and almost every article for a lady's toilet, dress, etc. Our orders last month were very large.

* * * * *

MONTESQUIEU says: "I never listen to calumnies, because, if they are untrue, I run the risk of being deceived, and, if they be true, of hating persons not worth thinking about."

* * * * *

BACK numbers of the "Lady's Book" can be supplied from January, as the work is stereotyped.

* * * * *

A. HART, Esq.--Our friend Hart has retired from the book business. Happy man! He has not toiled so long as we have; but he has been more fortunate in laying up the "siller." But will he be as happy in his retirement as we are, quietly seated at our desk planning out new surprises for our hundred thousand subscribers? We think he will, as he has all the elements of happiness surrounding him--an honest man, beloved by his friends, and respected by all who know him; a cheerful disposition, a contented mind, a good heart--we were going to write Hart; it would have been as appropriate. That old south-east corner, Fourth and Chestnut, how well we know it! We remember Carey & Lea, and Carey, Lea, & Carey; E. L. Carey & A. Hart; and last, A. Hart--no, not last; it is now Parry & McMillan. Mr. Parry we have known--we will not mention the number of years, as we believe our friend Jesse wishes still to pass for a young man, albeit he is married. Matters will go on well, there, under his management. And he has an able partner in Mr. McMillan, who is not new to the business, having been a publisher in the British Provinces. Success to the new firm of Parry & McMillan!

The following remarks were made by Mr. Hart at the Trade Sale, where, by the way, his stereotype plates sold for $55,960, a pretty good day's work. Previous to the sale, Mr. Hart turned to the auctioneer, Moses Thomas, Esq., another of our good old friends, and said--

"You, sir, were the _first person to introduce me into the book business_, having given me a letter of credit to purchase, at the Boston trade sale, held in 1827, when I was but sixteen years of age, an amount of five-thousand dollars, on my own judgment, a confidence which I have remembered to this day; and, two years afterwards, you were instrumental in arranging the partnership for me with the late Edward L. Carey; and now, after twenty-five years of successful business, _you_ are about to conduct me out of the trade, by disposing of my stereotype plates; and I must here acknowledge my gratitude to you for those acts of kindness and confidence extended towards a mere boy."

* * * * *

WE call attention to the advertisement of Boardman & Gray's Pianos on our cover. _We know the instruments, and can recommend them._ There is no firm in our country engaged in the manufacture of pianos upon whom more reliance can be placed than upon the gentlemen who are the subject of these remarks. A piano is an article that very few persons purchase more than once in a lifetime; it is therefore the more necessary that you select a manufacturer who is well known, and who can be vouched for--one whose pianos have stood the test of experience. We have been instrumental in selling a number of these instruments, and we have yet to hear the first complaint; on the contrary, we have been thanked for our recommendation of the house of Boardman & Gray. We give an extract of a letter from one of our subscribers, hoping that Messrs. B. & G. may take the hint contained in it:--

"CAMPBELL CO., _Va._, Feb. 22, 1854.

"No article you ever published possessed the hundredth part of the money value to your readers as your article on piano-fortes. Hundreds of thousands of dollars are every year invested in pianos, and a large proportion of them are not worth the cost of transportation. You have given us precisely that kind of information we needed, and in which we were greatly deficient. I shall shortly order one of Boardman & Gray's. These gentlemen ought to send to Mrs. Godey one of their best pianos, and, if it were accompanied by two hundred gold eagles, it would be only a fitting acknowledgment of benefits conferred.

"W. L. G."

SOME EXTRACTS FROM OUR CORRESPONDENCE.

"THE books for our Ohio club arrived this morning by way of Cleveland! and, although it was Monday, and my 'girl' busy with the week's washing, and the house in confusion, I took time to read 'Mustard to Mix,' and found others had felt much as I happened to feel this morning. But the story restored my good humor; and so, you see, the 'Book' has done some good already--at least, my husband thinks so.

"Many thanks for the pleasant story accompanying your letter! I intend sending it to an old bachelor up town, who made remarks similar to those of the young collegian, when I solicited him to subscribe for his sister.

"With earnest wishes for your happiness and prosperity,

"M. C. P."

"THE 'Lady's Book' is fast superseding all other periodicals of the kind in this section. The general impression is that it is the best magazine of the kind published.

"J. R. S., _Ala._"

TO OUR FRIEND GODEY.

BY MRS. ADELINE J. WILLIAMS.

COME, ladies all, and help me thank Our best of friends, so kind and frank; For in oblivion's stream we'd sank But for our good friend Godey.

He makes us his especial care; There's _nothing_ with him _we'll_ compare, And _none_ with _us_ shall e'er impair The fame of our friend Godey.

If puzzled in our crochet task, Our patterns poor as actor's mask, We need but turn the leaves, and ask Some aid from our friend Godey.

His tales are moral, chaste, and true, His fashion plates all rich and new; Receipts for _goodies_, not a few, Come from our kind friend Godey.

When, on the dreary winter's day, To ennui we fall a prey, Who then can chase the gloom away So well as our friend Godey?

Proud of so good a friend to boast, EXCELSIOR! shall be our toast, And thanks we'll shower by the host Upon our kind friend Godey!

PORTSMOUTH, _Va._, Feb. 11th, 1854.

"THE little story you sent me reminds me of an incident which occurred here some weeks since. A young _orator_ was declaiming loudly against the literature of the day, and more especially 'Godey's Lady's Book.' At the conclusion of his discourse, he accepted the invitation of a merchant, living near by, to tea. The lady of the house, a young bride, took occasion to place the offensive magazine, which she has taken for the last six months, in a conspicuous position on the parlor table.

"'Well,' said he, as he entered the room and seated himself, I am really quite disconcerted to see this here.' 'Yes, it is the magazine to which you alluded in your discourse to-day, I presume.' 'Certainly it is.' 'Well,' said she, 'I think, sir, that you must have been a close student of that bad book yourself, to be so well acquainted with its contents.' He was a little disconcerted _again_, and made no reply. 'Now, sir, pardon me, but I should regret very much to use my influence in obtaining the names of so many of the most intelligent ladies of our village for a book so pernicious in its tendency. However, I feel confident myself that nothing will appear upon its pages which I may not safely place in the hands of my young and only daughter.'

"I have succeeded, notwithstanding the gentleman's advice, which was perhaps only a good advertisement for the 'Book,' in getting a club of eighteen names, and may still send you some more. Here are three.

"The ladies wish the back numbers. Of course, I extol your magazine. I tell them that, for beautiful engravings, elegant patterns, fine paper and type, excellent reading matter, minute descriptions of the prevailing modes, and, in short, every little matter which we ladies like so well to know, and hear, and see, it cannot be surpassed by any other book in the country. I have done. If any lady has given you a longer list of names, or a more 'substantial Valentine,' I should like to know it, that I may outdo her.

"M. H."

"You are a popular man in this neighborhood, and whatever we can do for you will be done with pleasure.

"B. & Co., _Ala._"

L. A. GODEY, ESQ.--DEAR SIR: For the last six months I have been travelling through the Western States, and I am glad to see with what joy the 'Lady's Book' is welcomed. I frequently had an opportunity of scanning its contents, and was never better pleased than when once I asked a lady to lend me her number; she looked up, and, with a mischievous smile, asked if I was a subscriber. Receiving an affirmative answer, she handed me the 'Book,' saying: You are welcome to read it; but I never lend it to any one who will not _subscribe_.'

"I only arrived at home last week; and, on Saturday evening, as my wife and self were indulging in a romp with our B----, the 'Book' was brought in. This put an end to the romp, for my wife at once commenced examining the patterns, &c. 'See, is not this beautiful? Won't this look pretty on Frank's sack? I wonder how Mr. Godey manages to collect so great a variety of fashions?' And questions of similar import followed each other in rapid succession for some time. But at length a change came o'er her mind: _with an arch and quizzing look, she asked if I had paid this year's subscription_. You _know what my answer was, and I know what it will be hereafter. So here is your three dollars_, and much good may it do you, for I am sure to get the worth of my money.

"Mrs. B. says you must send a receipt, for she wants your autograph. Direct the 'Book' to her as heretofore, and oblige yours truly,

"P. R. B."

* * * * *

BARNUM.--The great Barnum is elected president of the Crystal Palace Association in New York. There is now some hope of its success. There was none under the former administration, for a more decided old fogy concern we never heard of--kid-gloved gentry, who had about as good an idea of managing an establishment like the Crystal Palace as they had of earning the money which their fathers left them.

* * * * *

CARRYL'S CURTAIN ESTABLISHMENT, NORTH-WEST CORNER OF FIFTH AND CHESTNUT STREET.--It was generally remarked by the wholesale merchants who made their purchases at this establishment for the spring trade, that they found no such variety in any place either in New York or this city. Prices they state are also very reasonable. Mr. Carryl furnishes suits of curtains for from $25 to $200. We will attend to the purchase of curtains from Mr. Carryl. We require the size of the rooms and windows, and general character and color of the furniture.

* * * * *

WHITE'S BONNETS.--Our orders for these beautiful spring bonnets are amazingly on the increase. On a late visit to his establishment, we were astonished at the amount of his business. At least two hundred boxes were ready for the different express lines.

* * * * *

MRS. HALE'S COOK-BOOK we will furnish at $1 25, and pay the postage. Mrs. Hale's "Household Book" on the same terms.

* * * * *

THERE is a great deal of good sense to be found in the "London Punch," given in a humorous guise. The following article upon the way that many females wear their bonnets is to be commended. We may add that _ladies_ in this city do not wear their bonnets as Punch describes them.

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A WORD ABOUT BONNETS.--When Mr. Punch, in his fashion reports, stated that ladies' bonnets would this season be worn on the small of the back, he only slightly exaggerated the reality which has come to pass. We believe that this article of the female dress has shrunk to a proportion which renders diminution impossible. Lightly poised upon the remotest peak of the hirsute promontory which decorates the head of beauty, it is calculated to arouse feelings of wonder as to what is its practical value, and why it is worn. Certainly, as a protection against the blasts of winter, it is utterly worthless. If the wearers suppose that it adds one iota to their personal charms, truth compels us to say that they are the victims of a complete self-deception. It is destructive to that air of modesty which every one wishes to observe in a sister or a mother, and has a jaunty air of effrontery. We have a trembling hope that things in this respect will shortly grow better, for we do think that human ingenuity cannot concoct anything uglier, nor smaller, if resort be not had to total annihilation. These gauze monstrosities may linger a little longer, tenaciously clinging to the outermost frontiers of weak heads, but the good sense of the community, we doubt not, would rather go back to the scuttle-shaped formations that surrounded our grandmothers, than suffer their relatives and friends to go to and fro in the microscopic fixtures which the fashionable world charitably calls bonnets.

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THE following is a description of the residence of Madame Rachel, the celebrated French tragic actress:--

The tragedian's dwelling formerly belonged to Walewski, the present French Minister at London, but she has altered and remodelled it to such an extent that nothing remains of the original fabric except the foundation and the outer walls. The exterior presents nothing remarkable; four windows on a floor in front, first floor over an _entresol_, and servants' rooms over that. Entrance by a _porte-cochère_, like almost all French town-houses, but the gate is oak, and the carriage-way floored with wood to deaden the sound of wheels. Square court-yard with fountain, and ivy round the sides. Gothic staircase elaborately carved in stone, and mysteriously lighted from above by a dome of colored glass. On the _entresol_ an antechamber in oak; dining-room to the left in Etruscan style, containing a splendid collection of antique vases. Between the dining-room and kitchen is a butler's pantry, where a richly carved oaken closet holds a magnificent service of plate, made partly in Paris and partly in London, and valued at $20,000, or more. All this story is laid down with Turkey carpeting, a rare thing in France, where the dining-rooms and antechambers of even the finest houses have seldom anything to show but the polished floor. On the right is a parlor opening on the court by three windows, and commanding a fine lookout over the neighboring gardens. The ceiling of this room is white, the walls hung with chintz of a Chinese pattern, large crimson flowers on a sea-green ground. Curtains, sofas, &c., to match; the rest of the furniture buhl-work, except some fancy arm-chairs of different stuffs, silk, velvet, and brocatel. Here is an endless collection of nicknacks, Dresden and Sevres China, Louis XIV. enamels, ivories, bronzes; among other curiosities a strange collection of Asiatic weapons. There are also several valuable paintings by Boucher, Isabey, Tony-Johannot, and other native artists of different periods. Chinese and Japanese vases (for which clumsy objects all the French have a weakness) complete the picture. This parlor opens into the library in a wing of the main building. The furniture of this room is carved oak, the walls and ceiling draped in myrtle-green cachemire. The tragedian's desk, richly carved and covered with green velvet, stands on the left of the door, with a Venetian mirror just behind it. The whole length of the wall opposite the three windows, as well as the spaces between the windows, is occupied by bookcases. Rachel's library comprises about four thousand volumes, all in very quiet bindings.

The second story, or the first floor over the _entresol_, is in white wood and gilding (a usual French drawing-room style), carpeted with purple flowers on a white ground. A large crimson sofa in the antechamber is flanked by two busts of Clesinger's on pedestals, _Tragedy_ and _Comedy_. On the right is the grand drawing-room, running the whole width of the house. The panels of its walls are adorned with groups of children and cupids, by the celebrated painter, Charles Muller. The white marble mantel-piece is carved with arabesque and allegorical masques. The sofas and chairs are purple brocatel with carved gilt frames, the rest of the furniture rosewood with bronze medallions. The clocks, candelabras, and bracelets are or-molu of the most costly workmanship. It is hardly necessary to say that there is great abundance of looking-glasses; they all bear their owner's cypher on their gilt frames. Among other objects of art in this room is a bust of Napoleon as First Consul, by Canova. On the right of the antechamber is the _show_ bedroom (Rachel, like many other Frenchwomen, has a quieter one for use in the third story). The bed has purple velvet curtains, a Turkish carpet of silk and gold embroidery for a quilt, and a lion-skin for a foot-rug. The furniture is rosewood, with medallions of Sevres china. A likeness of Adrienne Lecouvreur, in _tapestry_, and a marble bust of Taglioni, are the most conspicuous of the works of art in which this room abounds. A secret door near the bed leads into a little boudoir on the Chinese style, all lacquer, vermilion, and porcelain. The dressing-room is hung with chintz, garlands of flowers on a blue striped ground. The walls of the bath-room are sea-green stucco.

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THERE is no trifling with nature; it is always true, grave, and severe; it is always in the right, and the faults and errors fall to our share. It defies incompetency, but reveals its secrets to the competent, the truthful, and the pure.

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THE following we extract from the "Journal of Health":

PALPITATION OF THE HEART CURED BY SODA-WATER.--A lady, about forty years of age, had suffered for twelve years from periodical attacks of palpitation of the heart, so violent as to shake the bed on which the patient lay. During one attack, feeling thirsty, she expressed a desire for some soda-water. No sooner had she swallowed the first draught than her palpitation left her, and recurred no more until the period of the next attack. As soon as it commenced, she sent for her medical attendant, and told him what had occurred a month previously, and requested to be allowed to try the same remedy a second time. He consented, but, wishing to ascertain which of the ingredients of the soda-water had relieved the complaint, he gave her a dose of citric acid by itself. This had no effect. He then gave her a dose of carbonate of soda, which also failed. He then mixed the powders, and gave her some ordinary soda-water, placing his hand at the same time on her heart. The moment she swallowed the first mouthful, the palpitation ceased, and recurred no more for that time. From that period, whenever the palpitation came on, she could always stop it by this simple remedy. It appears, from the experiments made by medical men, that the carbonic acid was the active element in relieving the complaint, because, until the gas was liberated by the mixture of citric acid and the carbonate of soda, no benefit accrued.

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A FRENCH surgeon has written a discourse to prove that the more a patient cries and groans during a surgical operation, the more likely he is to survive it.

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THE LAST PARIS ITEM ABOUT FASHIONS.--Dresses are more costly than ever; gold, silver, and ornaments of velvet are still adopted for full dress. For instance, a pink crape dress, with five flounces, each flounce having an elegant and delicate wreath formed of black velvet. These flounces, made to diminish in width as well as in the size of the wreath as they ascend towards the waist, are also vandyked, the festoons being edged with a black velvet stripe. The body has a bertha forming a point in front and behind, trimmed with a narrow wreath, and surrounded with deep frills in the same style as the flounces on the skirt. For sleeves, a small puff, with a row of small velvet flowers, terminated with two deep frills, the same as the bertha. Another style, which is quite different, but equally pretty, is a dress made of white _taffetas_, with three flounces, each one trimmed with five rows of green curly plush, woven in the material, and separated by a velvet stripe. This plush and velvet diminish in width and change in shade as they ascend, so that the plush and velvet are of quite a delicate green towards the waist. The body has a bertha forming a _rever_, and coming down as low as the waist, in a point, both behind and in front.

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STEAMBOATS ON THE DELAWARE.--The numerous steamboats on our beautiful river were put in motion early in the spring. They are now running, not, indeed, in fearful and dangerous opposition, but each in its "appropriate sphere," and competing only in the excellency of their accommodations, and in the safe conveyance of travellers and pleasure-parties to and from the various points which line the shores of the Delaware from the Capes to the city of Trenton. Among the number thus employed are the large and handsome boats of the Camden and Amboy Company, the John Stevens, Captain Kester, and the Trenton, Captain Hinkle. These boats, as well as their gentlemanly commanders, are old and established favorites of the travelling and pleasure-seeking public. It may be said with great truth that there is not on any route in the entire range of the United States more safe, quiet, and punctual conveyances, or better accommodations, than are afforded by these boats, or officers more attentive to their duties, or more anxious to infuse feelings of confidence and comfort among their passengers, than are their commanders. We must not forget, however, to do justice to the unwearied exertions of W. H. Gatzmer, Esq., the principal agent of the company in this city. To his zeal and watchfulness, in the discharge of his arduous duties, the public are indebted for many of the facilities afforded for quick and speedy travel, as well on board the company's steamboats as on their railroads.

Neither should we forget our old friend, Captain M'Makin, of the steamer Edwin Forrest, who continues his exertions to accommodate the public with the most commendable spirit of "competition," and who, we hope, is reaping a just reward for his labors.

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THE "FLORIST AND HORTICULTURAL JOURNAL."--We have received the last number of this beautiful and interesting work, containing a splendid colored engraving.

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EARLE'S GALLERY, 216 CHESTNUT STREET.--A free admission gallery, and where quite as many good paintings can be found as at any pay exhibition. The walls are lined with beautiful pictures; but among them we must particularize a school scene: The master is about castigating a boy, when a new scholar with his father enters. The look of astonishment of both of them is admirably painted; but the picture is full of incidents, and ought to be seen by all. There are two other pictures, "Sheep in the Fold and in the Field"--admirable productions. A new painting has just been added by an American artist, George C. Bingham; it is called "An Appeal to Buncombe." The principal figure is, of course, the speaker, who appears to be stating his "platform" to the gaping auditory grouped in varied postures about him. The chairman is a man of prodigious size, and is probably a portrait. The newspaper reporter is taking down the speech, as delivered, on the top of his hat. We believe it is to be engraved as a companion to a former picture by the same artist.

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"NEW YORK PICAYUNE."--There is great merit in the humorous engravings in this paper; they are well designed and well engraved. The reading matter is also excellent. The Lectures by Cesar Augustus Hannibal contain many satirical hits, though made in the negro dialect. They deserve to be republished separately.

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"THE BIZARRE," of this city, which, by the way, is an excellent publication, says: "A better selection could not be made than 'Letters left at the Pastry Cook's.' It is one of the most amusing and lifelike descriptions of a girl's boarding-school ever written."

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SUMMER BEVERAGES.--Now is the time for our subscribers to provide themselves with these excellent and temperance receipts. See advertisement on cover.

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LA PIERRE HOUSE, BROAD STREET.--We are happy to find that our prophecy about this splendid establishment has been verified. It is now the most fashionable and best conducted house in the city.

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WE beg leave to differ with our friend of the "Western Pioneer." We have not placed the "cap-stone" yet, and he will see that it is not impossible to excel it. "There is no impossibility to him who wills." We will not differ with him on this point: "_It is the best specimen of artistic and mechanical skill we have ever seen_." We may thank Messrs. Collins & McLeester, who made the type, and Messrs. T. K. & P. G. Collins, who printed the "Book," for that. Thank you for your very kind notice.

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WHAT LETTERS SHOULD BE.--Many people, and well-informed people too, sit down to write a letter as if they were about to construct a legal document or government dispatch. Precision, formality, and carefully worded and rounded periods are considered all-essential, even though the epistle be intended for a familiar friend. Others appear to be writing for publication, or for posterity instead of making epistolary communication a simple converse between friends. Away with such labored productions! A letter on business should be brief; to a friend, familiar and easy. We like Hannah More's ideas upon the subject. She used to say: "If I want wisdom, sentiment, or information, I can find them better in books. What I want in a letter is the picture of my friend's mind, and the common sense of his life. I want to know what he is saying and doing; I want him to turn out the inside of his heart to me, without disguise, without appearing better than he is, without writing for a character. I have the same feeling in writing to him. My letter is therefore worth nothing to an indifferent person, but it is of value to the friend who cares for me."

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RURAL FELICITY.

When at eve thou sitt'st reclining By thy quiet cottage door, And the sun's last rays are shining On the smooth and polished floor, Then thy thoughts are blissward tending, And warm emotions like a flood, When an urchin softly whispers, "_Daddy, Bill won't saw that wood!_"

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WE do not hear much of the mothers of great men. What their fathers were--what their reputation, qualities, and history--is related to us with great particularity; but their mothers are usually passed over in comparative silence. Yet it is abundantly proved, from experience, that the mother's influence upon the development of the child's nature and character is vastly greater than that of a father can be. "The mother only," says Richter, "educates humanly. Man may direct the intellect, but woman cultivates the heart."

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A PARENT would rush, in the greatest alarm, after a child that was indiscriminately eating wild fruit and berries, for fear it should lay hold of a poison. How much greater care ought to be exerted in preventing an indiscriminate use of books, lest the morals should imbibe a poison that will stamp the future character with irretrievable dishonor.

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HOUSE PLANTS.

_From Mrs. Hale's New Household Receipt-Book._

PLANTS require much light and fresh air; a light garret is an excellent place for them; even those which will not bear the outer air must have the air of the room frequently freshened by ventilation, to preserve them in health. They should not stand in a draught of air. In frosty weather, the windows should be kept close, and at night the shutters. In sharp frost, instead of stirring out the fire, leave a little on retiring to rest, with a guard before it for security.

As a general rule, never water plants while the sun shines. The time should be in the evening, or early in the morning, unless it be confined to watering the roots, in which case, transplanted plants, and others in a growing state, may be watered at any time; and, if they are shaded from the sun, they may also be watered over the tops.

The water, if taken from a well or cold spring, should be exposed one day to the sun, otherwise it will chill the plants. A small quantity only should be applied at a time, that it may have the effect of refreshing rain.

Rain water is the best for plants; next river water; hard spring water is the worst.

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TO AIR PLANTS, AND VENTILATE ROOMS WHEREIN THEY ARE CONTAINED.--Plants should have air every day in the year to make them grow well; but this matter, in sitting-rooms, will not, of course, be regulated for their sakes, especially in the colder seasons. Wherever placed, however, some attention should be paid to airing and ventilating the rooms regularly, by opening the windows, and occasionally the doors, in order to excite a free circulation of air. This should be done to a certain extent every day, according to the state of the weather, except in the time of severe frost, when it would not be advisable to admit external air. But at such times, if bad weather be of long continuance, the rooms may be ventilated by means of the doors, and by exciting a current of air in the passages or other parts of the house.

In very severe frost, or in a continuation of damp weather, moderate fires should be made for the sake of the plants, if placed in rooms not occupied. The window shutters should also be closed at night.

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HINTS TO LOVERS OF FLOWERS.--A most beautiful and easily-attained show of evergreens may be had by a very simple plan, which has been found to answer remarkably well on a small scale. If geranium branches taken from luxuriant and healthy trees, just before the winter sets in, be cut as for slips, and immersed in soap-water, they will, after drooping for a few days, shed their leaves, put forth fresh ones, and continue in the finest vigor all the winter. By placing a number of bottles thus filled in a flower-basket, with moss to conceal the bottles, a show of evergreens is easily insured for the whole season. They require no fresh water.

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INSTRUCTIONS IN KNITTING.

THERE is not one art practised by ladies which is more deservedly popular than knitting. It is so easy, requires so little eyesight, and is susceptible of so much ornament, that it merits the attention of every lady.

The first process in knitting is known by the term _casting on_. There are two ways of doing this; with one needle and with two. Take the thread between the second and third fingers of the left hand, leaving an end of about a yard for every hundred stitches; pass it round the thumb of that hand, giving it a twist, so as to form a loop. Take a knitting-needle in the right hand, insert the point in the loop and pass the thread from the ball round the needle; then bend the point of the needle through the loop, which tighten, and one stitch will be complete. Continuing to make loops over the thumb, with the end of thread, and knit them with that from the ball until the proper number is cast on.

_To cast on with two needles_ (generally called the Spanish method), begin by making a loop on the end of the thread, into which slip the point of one needle, holding it in the left hand. Take the other needle in the right hand, and slip its point into the same loop; bring the thread round the point of this needle, and bend the needle towards you, so that the thread forms a loop on it. Slip that also on the left needle, without withdrawing it from the right. Put the thread round the right again, and repeat the process.

_Plain Knitting._--After all the stitches are cast on, hold the needle containing them in the left hand. Pass the thread round the little finger of the right hand, _under_ the second and third, and above the point of the first. Then take the other needle in the right hand, slip the point in the first stitch, and put the thread round it; bring forward the point of the right hand needle, so that the thread forms a loop on it. Slip the end of the left hand needle out of the stitch, and a new stitch is knitted.

_German Manner._--The thread, instead of being held by the fingers of the right hand, is passed over and under those of the left. The process is exactly the same.

_Purling._--Begin by bringing the thread in front of the right hand needle, which slip into a stitch pointing towards you; that is, in the reverse of the usual mode. Put the thread round the point of the needle, still bringing it towards you, bend the needle backwards to form a loop, and withdraw the stitch from the point of the left hand needle.

When knitted and purled stitches occur in the same row, the thread must be brought forward before a purled stitch, and taken back before a knitted one.

_To make a stitch._--Bring the thread in front, as if for a purled stitch, so that when you knit one the thread will pass over the needle, and will make a hole in the following row. The thread is put twice entirely round the needle, and then brought forward, so that the next knitted stitch will take it over a third time. In doing the next row, knit one, purl one, knit one of these stitches; however many are made, they must be alternately knitted and purled in the next row. When the stitch following the made stitches is to be purled, the thread must be entirely passed round the needle, once for every stitch to be made, and brought forward also.

_Slip stitch._--Pass a stitch from the left needle to the right, without knitting it. There are two ways of decreasing; first, by knitting two, three, or more stitches as one, marked in knitting, as k 2 t, k 3 t, &c. Secondly, in the following way: slip one stitch, knit one, pass the slip stitch over; this decreases one stitch. To decrease two; slip one, knit two together, pass the slip stitch over.

A reverse stitch is taken off the left hand needle, in the reverse way to knitting and purling. In both these, the right hand needle is inserted in the middle of the stitch, and the point brought out towards you or otherwise. But to make a reverse stitch, you insert the point of the needle in the stitch _at the back of the work_, and bring it forward through the opening in which it generally is inserted. The thread is to be placed round it, as for a purled stitch.

To reverse two, three, or more stitches together, insert the needle in them all at once, _from the last to the first_.

_To take up stitches._--Insert the needle in the loop, pass the thread round, and knit it in the usual manner. Do not draw out any loop more than can be avoided, while knitting it.

_To knit two pieces together._--To do this, there must be an equal number of stitches on both. Hold the needles together in the right hand, and knit as usual, inserting the left-hand needle in a loop of each at the same time, and treating the two as one.

_To form a round._--The French manner of performing this process is by casting the whole number of stitches on one needle, and then distributing them on three, or perhaps four. But the English mode is to divide the number of stitches, and cast so many on each needle, not withdrawing the last stitch of each needle from the point of the next needle. When all are cast on, the round is made by knitting the _two first_ stitches on to the last needle. Four needles are employed for stockings, five for doyleys and other round articles.

_To cast off._--Knit two stitches, insert the point of the left hand needle in the first stitch, and draw it on the other. Knit another stitch, and treat these two in the same way.

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THE EMPRESS OF FRANCE.--A correspondent of the "Morning Post," describing the appearance of the Empress of France at a ball, says: "The grace and beauty of the Empress were observed to the fullest advantage. Her faultless delicacy of feature, and the elegance of her figure, were well displayed by a very chaste costume of white lace, ornamented with ribbons of violet color, falling half way down the skirt. The headdress was exquisitely beautiful. Her Majesty's hair is of a beautiful light brown tint, and it was disposed last evening in tasteful rolls over the forehead, leaving disclosed the ears, from which diamonds were pendant. Her Majesty wore a diamond necklace of marvellous brilliancy, every stone of which reflected its myriad hues, and a pair of somewhat small bracelets _en suite_."

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Another writer says:--

"From some statistics of the Legion of Honor just published, it appears that this body numbers about 52,000, or little more than a two-hundredth part of the male population of France. It was usually supposed to be larger; the English used to say that every third Frenchman in a respectable position was a 'Knight' of the Legion. In Louis Philippe's time it was conferred on some odd subjects, old Galignani among others, whose chief merits were, keeping a circulating library, printing English books (before the late international legislation on that subject), and publishing a newspaper of selections which put in all it can find in disparagement of the Americans.

"By the time a man has lived two or three years in Paris, he generally fancies himself pretty well posted up in French cookery; but I came across something the other day which knocked me, and will probably astonish you too, as it is founded on what we are accustomed to regard as a peculiarly national comestible. Every American is acquainted with pumpkin pie, and a good many of us like it. But what do you say to _pumpkin soup?_ Till you have tried it, you don't know of what the vegetable is capable. _Purée de Poturons;_ it is made just like _Purée de Pois_, or any other purée (and consequently is improved by the addition of _croutons_), pleasant to the eye (a rich golden yellow), and delicious to the taste."

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THE MANNER OF DOING GOOD.--When your endeavors are directed towards doing good to an individual, in other words, doing him service, if there be any option as to the mode or way, consider and observe what mode is most to his taste. If you serve him as you think and say, in a way which is yours, and not his, the value of any service may, by an indefinite amount, be thus reduced. If the action of serving a man not in the way he wishes to be served be carried to a certain length, it becomes tyranny, not beneficence; an exercise of power for the satisfaction of the self-regarding affections, not an act of beneficence for the gratification of the sympathetic or social affections.

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YANKEE DOODLE, WITH VARIATIONS.--Who is there among our readers who has not heard several of his favorite tunes played with variations? And who is there that could, when the musician got pretty deep in said variations, ever recognize the original tune? It should be with alterations, instead of variations. A recent writer, in the following, justly ridicules this "variation" business:--

A few evenings since, I had the satisfaction of being present at Signor Sivori's farewell concert. I was exceedingly diverted by the performances of that clever violinist, which also reminded me of an idea that had occasionally occurred to me before on hearing Ole Bull, Liszt, and other professors of musical gymnastics.

I perceived that the talent of these gentlemen lay principally in executing variations on certain favorite airs; that is, in disjointing their different portions, and filling up the intervals with divers fantastical and eccentric movements of their own--runs, shakes, and so forth; thus interspersing the original music, which was expressive of some sentiment, feeling, or state of mind, with passages which, having no meaning at all, formed an agreeable contrast to the melodies wherewith they were blended.

Now, the idea that occurred to me was that the principle (so greatly to the gratification of the public) acted upon by the musicians might be advantageously applied to the sister art of poetry. I think that Shakspeare with variations would very probably be received with great applause. The variations, of course, should correspond in expressiveness and intellectuality to those above alluded to. For instance, let the line to be varied be--

"To be, or not to be; that is the question."

The theme might first be recited entire, and then treated as follows:--

To be or not, fiddle; to be, diddle; that, tooral; is, rooral; the question, lay. Fiddle, fiddle, iddle, iddle, tooral, looral, lay. Tooral, to be: looral, or not; lay, to be; that is, fiddle; the question, iddle de dee. To, yoddle; be, doodle; or, fol; not, dol; to, de; be, rol; that, ri; is, tol; the, lol; question, de rido. Yoddle, doddle, fol de rol, to be; hey down derry diddle dum, or not; whack rum ti oodity, to be; ho down, that; chip chow cherry chow, is; tra la la la, the question. Dong, dong, harum, scarum, divo, question Right fol de riddy, oody, bow, wow, wow!

Drowning men will catch at a straw; and, considering the present declining state of the drama, I seriously recommend the suggestion to the notice of the managers. Its adoption will doubtless astonish the weak minds of many, to whom Shakspeare's sense, at present too strong for them, will be rendered more palatable by dilution.

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A WOMAN was walking, and a man looked at her and followed her. The woman said, "Why do you follow me?" He answered, "Because I have fallen in love with you." The woman said, "Why are you in love with me? My sister is much handsomer than I! She is coming after me; go and make love to her." The man turned back and saw a woman with an ugly face. Being greatly displeased, he went again to the other woman, and said, "Why did you tell a story?" The woman answered, "Neither did you speak truth; for if you are in love with me, why did you go after another woman?" The man was confounded. We should rather think he was.

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GODEY'S GALLERY OF SPLENDID ENGRAVINGS.--We have received the first number of this collection of over twenty-five of the finest of those beautiful engravings that have appeared in the Lady's Book in former days. Those who are wishing to procure books of engravings for the centre-table cannot better consult their own interest than by sending fifty cents to Godey for his beautiful "Gallery."

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BOOK OF THE TOILET.--This neat little publication contains a large number of recipes for the preservation of health, and beauty, and for the preparation of the various kinds of cosmetics in general use. Personal beauty is a gift to be prized, and the preservation of a youthful appearance is by no means to be condemned. The "Book of the Toilet" will enable ladies to prepare their own cologne, toilet soap, et cetera, at a much less cost, and less adulterated, than when purchased, ready for use, at the druggists. Price of the Book, fifty cents. Address Louis A. Godey, Philadelphia.--_Western Literary Cabinet._

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THE "Sandy Hill Herald" says: "How any lady can manage to get along without Godey, is more than we can imagine. Why, if we were a woman, we would not do without it any more than we would do without a husband, and we would be sure to have both."

Friend "Herald," there is one woman we wot of that can't get along "without Godey;" and she thinks that a certain ceremony that was performed some twenty years since gives her a pretty good right to him.

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WE give the following as we find it--without vouching for its correctness, although the paper was read before the Royal Asiatic Society in England:--

HOW TO MAKE ARTIFICIAL PEARLS.--It was stated, in a paper read a short time since before the members of the Royal Asiatic Society in England, "that the artificial production of pearls from the mussel-fish is carried on to a great extent at Hoochow, in China. The fish are collected in April and May, and are opened by children, who place a small bit of bamboo in the orifice to keep the shells apart. A piece of brass or bone, a small pebble, or a pellet of mud, is then introduced, a dose of three to five spoonfuls of fish-scales, pounded and mixed with water, is poured on, and the stick removed. The fish are then placed a few inches apart in ponds, the water of which is from three to five feet deep, and which are well manured with night soil four or five times every year. In these ponds, the fish are allowed to remain from ten months to three years. Upon taking them out, the shell is cut through with a fine saw, the pearl is separated from the shell and the pellet, or other substance within it extracted. It is then filled with white wax, and a piece of the shell carefully attached, to conceal the aperture. Several millions of pearls are thus produced annually, worth from about a penny to eight pence a pair."

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GENERAL AGENCY FOR PERIODICALS.--Many persons wishing to subscribe for different publications do not like the trouble of writing several letters. This may be obviated by sending the money to the subscriber, who will attend to all orders punctually, whether for publications monthly or weekly in this city or elsewhere.

Any information asked for by any of our subscribers we will cheerfully give, if it is in our power.

We will attend to purchasing any goods that may be desired, and will forward them at the lowest market price.

Enigmas.

ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS IN APRIL NUMBER.

13. A well. 14. Able, table, cable, fable. 15. A secret.

* * * * *

ENIGMAS.

16.

PRAY, what is that we enter, but ne'er see? And yet familiarized with it are we; Though ne'er created, yet existing 'tis, And with ourselves concurrent always is. Its property throughout our lives we share, And draw on its resources everywhere. Itself indefinite, yet marks the sum Of our career--past, present, and to come. Its current value, too (to this attend), Must on our working of that sum depend. In fact, its origin, its age, its death, May be explained away in one word's breath; Though of enigmas it must ever be To human minds the greatest mystery?

17.

MY name's a paradox to you, Expressing what I'd fain not do, For constancy's my aim; I'm really such a loving elf, To you I would attach myself With ardor aye the same.

18.

SOMETIMES, a minister of state, Scarlet and gold I wear; Faith o'er the world I circulate In many a form that's fair.

No mediator ever aids The mortal in distress, Howe'er the tyrants of the earth His spirit may oppress, As I successfully can do. Whene'er he's destitute, Then finds he me a comforter, Where worldly friends are mute.

For I can raise his mind above The vanities of life; Can banish all its jealousies, Extinguish all its strife; Can mitigate the miseries Attendant on the poor; And wretches, all disconsolate, With radiant hope allure.

19.

MY character consider well, The deadliest quarrel I can quell, When folks by me are led; For satisfaction I can give To all who'd not dishonored live, And e'en avenge the dead.

I'm dull and heavy, yet at need You may accelerate my speed, Upon a hostile course; Destruction's ever my good aim, Yet I've an honorable fame For equalizing force.

The Borrower's Department.

"_The wicked borroweth and payeth not again._"

"_Md._, 1854.

"DEAR SIR: I present myself before you this morning another evidence of the great inconveniences sometimes attending the borrowing system. My books have suffered in various ways; some have had _rhubarb_ (!) spilt on them, others ink, besides being otherwise maltreated and maimed. And now I find the May number for 1853 has disappeared, and no trace of it can be discovered. Can't you aid me in this emergency, and oblige me by supplying the missing copy? Inclosed are postage stamps to the amount.

"Respectfully yours, M. A. T.

"MR. LOUIS A. GODEY."

* * * * *

FROM the "Ohio Clinton Republican:"--

"'LADY'S BOOK.'--The February number of 'Godey's Lady's Book' has just been received. We fear there are not enough copies of this excellent and popular periodical taken in this place, else there would not be so many applications to borrow ours by our fair friends."

* * * * *

FROM the "Schuylkill Banner:" "Although this magazine is entitled 'Lady's Book,' it is a book sought after by not only females, but males of all grades that can read; and we are sorry to say that so many of our readers would rather borrow than subscribe to it."

* * * * *

"_N. C._, Feb. 22, 1854.

"MR. GODEY: I shall be compelled, in _self-defence_, to get you a lot of subscribers at this place. The copy you are kind enough to send the 'News' is literally worn out in the service of the ladies, bless them! They will have it, and I cannot refuse to loan. I expect to be able to send you some more shortly.

"Yours truly, T. W. A."

PHILADELPHIA AGENCY.

"Mrs. H. L."--Buff-colored note-paper and cards are now fashionable. Can send you both.

"Miss J. E. P."--Black velvet headdress sent on the 12th.

"M. S."--Sent your sewing-machine by Adams's Express on the 13th.

"Miss C. H."--Sent your bonnet by Adams's on the 14th.

"Mrs. O. H. F."--Sent your bonnet by express on 16th.

"Miss E. O. P."--Sent bonnet by the person who brought the order on the 16th.

"J. B. G."--Paper hangings were sent _via_ Camden and Amboy Railroad on the 11th.

"Emily L. M."--Don't know any more than what the acknowledgment referred to conveys. Shall be happy to hear from you at all times.

"Miss B."--Sent port-monnaie by mail on 15th.

"Anna E. W."--Please see March, April, and this number for full directions for crochet and knitting. Other portions of your letter will be answered. Much obliged to you for your commendations. We will send pamphlets postage free about the sewing-machine to all who may wish them.

"Mrs. A. M. L."--Sent bonnet by Kinsley's Express on the 14th.

"H. E. G."--Sent apron pattern on 22d.

"S. E. W."--Sent apron pattern on 24th.

"Old Subscriber," at Godfrey, Ill.--Cannot publish the patterns, as they are too large; but will furnish them at $1 25, and will get them to match as near as possible. They do not come in sets. Patterns can be stamped on the material, which is much better, as they can be stamped ready for working.

"L. B."--Sent patterns by mail on 28th.

"Mrs. M. A. W."--Sent your order by mail on 4th.

"Miss H. A. J."--Sent duplicate on the 4th.

"Mrs. M. A. W."--Sent garment on the 4th.

"Mrs. A. V. Du B."--Sent patterns on the 9th.

"Mrs. M. A. L."--Sent "colors" by Adams & Co. on 10th.

"Mrs. S. H. D."--Books and patterns sent by mail on the 11th.

"Mrs. D. C. H."--Sent box by Adams's Express on 11th.

"Mrs. M. S. L."--Sent box by mail on the 11th.

"M. C. L."--Sent book by mail on 16th.

"Miss C. V. S."--Sent silk on 17th.

"Miss E. C. H."--Sent pattern on 17th.

In answer to several correspondents, we give the following directions for

* * * * *

STARCHING LINEN.--To those who desire to impart to shirt bosoms, collars, and other fabrics that fine and beautiful gloss observable on new linens, the following recipe for making gum arabic starch will be most acceptable, and should have a place in the domestic scrap-book of every woman who prides herself upon her capacity as a house-wife and the neatness of her own, her husband's, and family's dress; and, if she does not take pride in these things, her husband is an unfortunate man:--

"Take two ounces of fine white gum arabic powder, put it into a pitcher, and pour on it a pint or more of boiling water, according to the degree of strength you desire, and then, having covered it, let it set all night. In the morning, pour it carefully from the dregs into a clean bottle, cork it, and keep it for use. A tablespoonful of gum-water stirred into a pint of starch that has been made in the usual manner will give the lawns (either white, black, or printed) a look of newness, when nothing else can restore them after washing. It is also good, much diluted, for thin white muslin and bobbinet."--_Augusta Chronicle._

No orders attended to unless the cash accompanies them.

All persons requiring answers by mail must send a post-office stamp.

Receipts, &c.

TO REMOVE GREASE FROM PAPER.--Scrape finely some pipe clay or French chalk, and on this lay the sheet or leaf to be cleansed, covering the spot in like manner with clay or chalk. Cover the whole with a sheet of paper, and apply, for a few seconds, a heated iron. On using India rubber to remove the dust, the paper will be found to be free of the grease.

* * * * *

STRAW may be bleached by putting it in a cask into which a few brimstone matches are placed lighted. The same effect may be produced by dipping the straw into chloride of lime dissolved in water.

* * * * *

VARNISH FOR COLORED DRAWINGS.--Canada balsam, one ounce; oil of turpentine, two ounces; dissolve. Size the drawings first with a jelly of isinglass, and when dry apply the varnish, which will make them appear like oil paintings.

* * * * *

MOCK CREAM FOR COFFEE.--Mix half a tablespoonful of flour with a pint of new milk; let it simmer for five minutes, then beat up the yolk of an egg, stir it into the milk while boiling, and run it through a lawn sieve.

* * * * *

TO USE JEWELLER'S ROUGE IN CLEANING ORNAMENTS.--Mix it with a little salad oil, and with a small tooth-brush rub the ornament till perfectly clean; then wash in hot soap and water with a clean brush, and wipe dry with wash-leather.

* * * * *

A VERY pretty and economical finish for sheets, pillow-cases, &c., may be made from the cuttings of bleached muslin: Cut one and a half inch squares, and fold them bias, from corner to corner, then fold again, so as to form a point, seam on to the straight side on raw edge and face on a strip to cover the seam.

* * * * *

TO GIVE A FINE COLOR TO MAHOGANY.--Let the tables be washed perfectly clean with vinegar, having first taken out any ink-stains there may be with spirit of salt, but it must be used with the greatest care, only touching the part affected, and instantly washing it off. Use the following liquid: Into a pint of cold drawn linseed oil, put four pennyworth of alkanet root, and two pennyworth of rose pink in an earthen vessel, let it remain all night, then, stirring well, rub some of it all over the table with a linen rag; when it has lain some time, rub it bright with linen cloths.

* * * * *

FINE BLACKING FOR SHOES.--Take four ounces of ivory black, three ounces of the coarsest sugar, a tablespoonful of sweet oil, and a pint of small beer; mix them gradually cold.

* * * * *

TO TAKE INK OUT OF MAHOGANY.--Mix, in a teaspoonful of cold water, a few drops of oil of vitriol; touch the spot with a feather dipped in the liquid.

* * * * *

TO CLEAN PICTURES.--Dust them lightly with cotton wool, or with a feather brush.

* * * * *

TO CLEAN MIRRORS.--Wipe them lightly with a clean bit of sponge or fine linen that has been wet in spirits of wine, or in soft water; then dust the glass with fine whiting powder; rub this off with a soft cloth, then rub with another clean cloth, and finish it with a silk handkerchief. Dust the frames with cotton wool.

* * * * *

MILDEW STAINS are very difficult to remove from linen. The most effectual way is to rub soap on the spots, then chalk, and bleach the garment in the hot sun.

* * * * *

INK AND IRON MOULD may be taken out by wetting the spots in milk, then covering them with common salt. It should be done before the garments have been washed. Another way to take out ink is to dip it in melted tallow. For fine, delicate articles, this is the best way.

* * * * *

FRUIT AND WINE STAINS.--Mix two teaspoonfuls of water and one of spirit of salt, and let the stained part lie in this for two minutes; then rinse in cold water. Or wet the stain with hartshorn.

* * * * *

DOMESTIC RECEIPTS.

CUSTARDS, CREAMS, JELLIES, AND BLANC MANGE.

[_Fifth article._]

DEVONSHIRE JUNKET.--Put warm milk into a bowl; turn it with rennet; then put some scalded cream, sugar, and nutmeg on the top without breaking the curd.

* * * * *

KERRY BUTTERMILK.--Put six quarts of buttermilk into a cheese-cloth, hang it in a cool place, and let the whey drip from it for two or three days; when it is rather thick, put it into a basin, sweeten it with pounded loaf-sugar, and add a glass of brandy, or of sweet wine, and as much raspberry jam, or syrup, as will color and give it an agreeable flavor. Whisk it well together, and serve it in a glass dish.

* * * * *

WHIP SYLLABUB.--Whip cream, as directed above; mix a glass of brandy and half a pint of white wine with a pint of the cream, which sweeten with sifted loaf-sugar, and grate in lemon-peel and nutmeg; serve in glasses, and set some of the whip on each.

* * * * *

SNOWBALLS.--Beat the whites of six eggs to a froth, sweeten them to your taste, and flavor them with rose-water. Drop them into a pot of boiling water, in tablespoonfuls, for a minute or two, to harden them. Make a cream of milk, eggs, and sugar to float them in.

* * * * *

A FLOATING ISLAND.--Take a pint of thick cream, sweeten with _fine_ sugar, grate in the peel of one lemon, and add a gill of sweet white wine; whisk it well till you have raised a good froth; then pour a pint of thick cream into a china dish, take one French roll, slice it thin, and lay it over the cream as lightly as possible; then a layer of clear calves' feet jelly, or currant jelly; then whip up your cream and lay on the froth as high as you can, and what remains pour into the bottom of the dish. Garnish the rim with sweetmeats.

* * * * *

FLOATING ISLAND--_another way_.--Beat together the whites of three eggs and as many tablespoonfuls of raspberry jam or red currant jelly; when the whole will stand in rocky forms, pile it upon apple jelly, or cream, beaten up with wine, sugar, and a little grated lemon-peel.

* * * * *

TO WHIP CREAM.--Sweeten a bowl of cream with loaf-sugar, and flavor it with orange-flower water, any juicy fruit, or lemon or orange, by rubbing sugar on the peel; set another bowl near the above, with a sieve over it; then whip the cream with a whisk, and, as it rises in a froth, take it off with a skimmer, and put it into the sieve to drain; whip also the cream which drains off, and, when done, ornament with lemon-raspings. This cream may be used before it is set upon custard, trifle, or syllabub.

* * * * *

A TRIFLE.--Whip cream, as directed above, adding a little brandy and sweet wine; then lay in a glass dish sponge cakes, ratafia cakes, and macaroons, and pour upon them as much brandy and sweet wine as they will soak up; next, a rich custard about two inches deep, with a little grated nutmeg and lemon-peel; then a layer of red currant jelly or raspberry jam, and upon the whole a very high whip. A trifle is best made the day before it is wanted.

* * * * *

CAKE TRIFLE.--Cut out a rice or diet-bread cake about two inches from the edge; fill it with a rich custard, with a few blanched and split almonds, and pieces of raspberry jam, and put on the whole a high whip.

* * * * *

GOOSEBERRY OR APPLE TRIFLE.--Scald a sufficient quantity of fruit, and pulp it through a sieve; add sugar agreeable to your taste, make a thick layer of this at the bottom of your dish; mix a pint of milk, a pint of cream, and the yolks of two eggs, scald it over the fire, observing to stir it; add a small quantity of sugar, and let it get cold. Then lay it over the apples or gooseberries with a spoon, and put on the whole a whip made the day before.

* * * * *

THE SICK ROOM AND NURSERY.

COLD OR INFLAMMATION IN THE EYES.--A correspondent has met with the greatest relief from the following application: Soak in cold spring water, for half an hour, a piece of bread toasted brown, and then place it on soft linen rag, one thickness, next the eye, and apply at bedtime every night, until the inflammation is removed.

* * * * *

FUMIGATING SICK ROOMS.--The chlorine fumigation is generally considered the best for fumigating the apartments of the sick. To prepare it, mix together equal parts of powdered oxide of manganese and common salt; put one ounce of this powder into a basin, and pour on it a large teaspoonful of water; then drop into the vessel about thirty or forty drops of oil of vitriol, which may be repeated at intervals for about three or four times. This will be sufficient for the perfect exhaustion of the powder.

* * * * *

TO MAKE ARROW-ROOT.--To a dessert-spoonful of powder, add as much cold water as will make it into a paste, then pour on half a pint of boiling water, stir it briskly and boil a few seconds, when it will become a clear smooth jelly. It may be sweetened with sugar, and flavored with lemon-peel, &c., to the palate, or a little sherry or other white wine may be added; fresh milk, either alone or diluted with water, may be substituted for the water.

* * * * *

ANTIDOTE FOR LAUDANUM.--Give immediately twenty grains of white vitriol dissolved in water, and assist vomiting by irritating the fauces with a feather; after the stomach is emptied, give large draughts of vinegar and water, and other vegetable acids, with coffee, brandy, &c., constantly rousing the attention of the sufferer, until the effects of the poison subside. Recourse may be had to this until such time as the attendance of a medical man can be procured.

* * * * *

OPODELDOC.--This lotion being a valuable application for sprains, lumbago, weakness of joints, &c., and it being difficult to procure either pure or freshly made, we give a receipt for its preparation: Dissolve an ounce of camphor in a pint of rectified spirits of wine, then dissolve four ounces of hard white Spanish soap, scraped thin, in four ounces of oil of rosemary, and mix them together.

* * * * *

SUBSTANCES IN THE EYE.--To remove fine particles of gravel, lime, &c., the eye should be syringed with lukewarm water till free from them. Be particular not to worry the eye under the impression that the substance is still there, which the enlargement of some of the minute vessels makes the patient believe is actually the case.

The Toilet.

GOWLAND'S LOTION.--Take one and a quarter grains of bichloride of mercury, and one ounce of emulsion of bitter almonds; mix well. Be careful of the bichloride of mercury, because it is a poison. This is one of the best cosmetics we possess for imparting a delicate appearance and softness to the skin, and is a useful lotion in ringworm, hard and dry skin, and sun-blisterings.

* * * * *

TO CLEAN KID GLOVES.--Draw the gloves on the hands, and then freely wash them in turpentine until perfectly clean. Then blow into them and pin them on a line to dry. The air will dissipate any smell the turpentine may leave. Should this, however, not prove to be the case, a drop or two of oil of lemon in a little water, rubbed lightly over the gloves, will effectually destroy it.

* * * * *

TO REMOVE FRECKLES.--Take of Venice soap an ounce, dissolve it in half an ounce of lemon-juice, to which add of oil of bitter almonds and deliquated oil of tartar, each a quarter of an ounce. Let the mixture be placed in the sun till it acquires the consistence of ointment. When in this state, add three drops of the oil of rhodium, and keep it for use. Apply it in the following manner: Wash the face at night with elder-flower water, then anoint it with the above unction. In the morning, cleanse the skin from its oily adhesion by washing it copiously in rose-water.

* * * * *

TO PREVENT HAIR FROM FALLING OUT.--Make a strong decoction of white-oak bark in water, and use it freely. Make but little at a time, and have it fresh at least once a fortnight.

Centre-Table Gossip.

MAY FIRST

is signalized, in the annals of New York housekeepers, as a time of change.

Boarders go to housekeeping; old housekeepers, tired of the wear and tear of servants and marketing, give up their comfortable homes for the confinement of a parlor and bed-room in some fashionable hotel or lodging house. Or it may be that only a removal is contemplated, and Mr. Leeds is called in to superintend the sale of furniture that has got behind the times, like the street or square in which it has been used, and carpets much too small for the enlarged views of the wife of the successful merchant. Months before, the young married people have been going from house to house, peering into closets and dumb waiters, measuring floors with an accurate eye, or halls by sober, long-reaching strides, and taking the altitude of windows for shade or curtain. They stop at Berrian's, on their way to business, and pause before Haughwout's huge windows of china and glass. Peterson & Humphrey's carpets are more attractive than the prints at Goupil's or the landscapes at Stevens's. They notice the price of flour in the morning paper, and consult about the wet linen goods "from the Humboldt"--a cargo that would seem as inexhaustible as the furniture of the Mayflower. By and by, the mornings are passed at auctions, and "bargains" begin to crowd their rooms, as heterogeneous in manufacture as in use. All at once, they find their purchase brought to a stand-still by lack of funds, and the house is not half furnished. Ah, they had forgotten to make a calculation beforehand, and purchase actual articles of necessity before matters of luxury!

Now they go on as they should have commenced, cautiously and economically; still, the kitchen and chamber departments show reprovingly for some time to come how they have been robbed for the sake of the parlor curtains and mantle ornaments.

They should have had some good old friend, like ourselves, to say, "Now, my dears, I like your plan of housekeeping; you will find it the most comfortable and economical in the end, if you will only go the right way to work. You have made a fortunate selection in your house. It is neither too large for your means nor your family. How many rooms in it? How have you disposed of them? Now take a spare scrap of paper, and write them down in order.

"_Begin_ with your kitchen, _end_ with your parlor. Reverse the usual plan, if your aim is comfort and not show. Only Mrs. M. or N. will notice whether you have shades or curtains. If your family lack comfortable bedding, or your kitchen needful conveniences, you certainly incommode those you care most to please. Take the kitchen, for example. How large is it? Will you have it covered with carpeting or oil-cloth? How many yards, and at what price? Have you a range? If not, count the cost of stove and boilers. How many chairs and tables? At what price? The dresser, and delf necessary for cooking and servants' use." Fortunately, the lists of the furnishing warehouses save an endless amount of thought and trouble, especially in the matter of cooking utensils. Those unlearned in such research will find one of them in our answers to correspondents the present number.

As for the kitchen, so for the dining-room, the china-closet, the linen-press, store-room, chambers, and finally the parlor. Make your calculation as accurately as possible, to come within the limit you have set yourself, remembering in all cases to take from articles of mere adornment or show, rather than essential comforts, and that infinite petty mortifications and care can be saved to a house-keeper by making plenty, not superfluity, her rule.

* * * * *

A LESSON WORTH REMEMBERING.

THERE are very few of our readers--we take it for granted--who have not met with the little book, "A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam." A longer story, by the same author, has made its appearance in England, prettily illustrated by Gilbert. The title is "Influence," neither more nor less; and the object in view is to show the weight good or bad influence will have on the character, even from the nursery.

As most appropriate to our "Centre-Table Chat," which unites gayeties and gravities, we give as a sample of the new book. Speaking of the education of Cyril, its hero's sister--

"Yes, Julia was improving in every knowledge but one of the most important, the knowledge which a mother's example could best have taught her, to know and perform her mission here, the proper exercise of _woman's paramount influence over man_."

There would be fewer wretched marriages, fewer dissipated, degraded men, if this lesson were included in a woman's education; if they were taught to feel the angel duty which devolves on them--to keep the wandering steps of those who are tempted so much more than they in the paths of virtue and peace; to make them feel that in the busy world are noise and confusion; that at home there are order and repose; that there "eyes look brighter when they come, that the smile of welcome is ever ready to receive them, _the work, the books are ever ready to be laid aside to minister to their pleasure_"--they would find amusement then at home, nor strive to seek it elsewhere.

And not alone to the higher classes of society should this be taught. It should be a lesson instilled into the minds of all, high and low, rich and poor. Duty has seldom so strong a hold on men as women; they cannot, they will not, for _duty's_ sake, remain in a dull, tedious, or ill-managed, querulous home, but leave it to seek elsewhere the comfort and amusement which fail them there; and, when riot and revelry have done their work, the wives and sisters who have done so little to make them otherwise are pitied for their bad husbands and brothers.

* * * * *

FOR THE LOVERS OF JEWELRY.

THE great Koh-i-noor diamond displayed in the English Exhibition, and shown by a model in the New York Crystal Palace, has a rival in one now deposited in the Bank of England by the consignees, Messrs. Dory & Benjamin, of London. It comes from Rio Janeiro, and weighs 254½ carats, of the purest water. When cut and polished, it is expected to surpass the Indian diamond in size and brilliancy. It has been shown to the queen, and is the subject of general remark in the English prints.

Ball & Black, of New York, have still in their window the celebrated necklace of pearls displayed at the Crystal Palace. It consists of a single string of pure pearls, threaded like the gold beads of our grandmothers, and about the same size. The cross attached is of diamonds, in a rich and tasteful setting. The pearls are of such unusual size and purity that at first it seems almost impossible that they can be real.

Necklaces are worn much more than they have been, for full dress especially. The most fashionable and costly style is of diamonds, and quite flat, either set in a pattern or a single row of brilliants. Ladies who cannot afford this costly appendage to their toilets adopt a very fine Venetian gold chain, to which is suspended a medallion of precious stones set with diamonds.

* * * * *

OUR FASHION DEPARTMENT.

WE do not often allude to what we have done or intend to do in this department, keeping the even tenor of our way, and letting our chitchat speak for itself. But of late we have noticed that other publications assume to have been the first to give detailed directions, in addition to the meagre description of the fashion plates at first offered to the public. Hailing as we do from the Quaker City, we shall "mildly remonstrate," and only assert that _this is not the case_.

The present fashion editor was the first to originate the monthly letter or record of the fleeting changes of the season, and since that time has been engaged in collecting, with more or less research and difficulty, from foreign _journals des modes_, the importer, the mantuamaker, and the milliner, such items as will be of practical or suggestive use, and setting these before our readers in a simple, reliable style, differing from the French raptures of the "_Moniteur_," or the meagre descriptions of American prints, where the fashions are a last consideration with the publisher--tacked on, because some one else had set the example. To us it seems as consistent with the scientific and professedly critical character they assume, as a lady's French bonnet would appear as the crowning-point of costume on "a potent, grave, and reverend seignior." But we have no quarrel with them for assuming our especial badge as a "Lady's Book," nor are we at all particular in demanding credit of them for our borrowed plumes; we would only suggest that modesty might be a becoming addition to them, and truthfulness an equal grace.

Now, any of our lady readers who have been invited by friends in the country to "let them know what is worn this season," will at once understand the time and trouble it takes to answer such a request satisfactorily. To relieve them from this task is what we have undertaken, at the same time giving variety to our chat by the description of any new manufacture, article of jewelry, fashionable shops, furniture, etc. etc. We did not plan or even dream of exciting emulation or envious remark, nor do we feel the slightest malice or ill-will towards those who thus confess their inferiority. Only, as the school children say, "will they please to let us alone," as we do them.

* * * * *

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

"A YOUNG AMATEUR GARDENER" will find the following effectual in keeping the birds from his freely planted seeds. Mix together one pound of gas tar, quarter of a pound brown spirits of tar, and quarter pound of melted grease. Dip twine in this mixture, and weave it backwards and forwards over the beds, on sticks firmly planted at the side, a few inches high.

We _have_ heard of "cherries without stones." Here is a French horticultural receipt for producing them, which we have never seen tested, however: "In the spring, before the circulation of the sap, a young seedling cherry-tree is split from the upper extremity down to the fork of its roots; then, by means of a piece of wood in the form of a spatula, the pith is carefully removed from the tree, in such a manner as to avoid any excoriations or other injury; a knife is used only for commencing the split. Afterwards the two sections are brought together, and tied with woollen, care being taken to close hermetically with clay the whole length of the cleft. The sap soon reunites the separated portions of the tree, and, two years afterwards, cherries are produced of the usual appearance, but, instead of stones, there will only be small soft pellicles."

"MRS. LOUISE M. C." will find farina boiled in milk the best food for an infant, next to its natural substance. It is well to change with arrowroot, in case of sickness; but, as constant food, it will fatten, but not strengthen the child.

"MISS J."--We do not think the acceptance of a bouquet objectionable from any gentleman admitted to the family as a visitor. Flowers, books, and music are the most suitable gifts. Any article of dress or jewelry given or accepted by persons with no other tie than ordinary visiting acquaintance, is not in good taste, to say the least.

"MRS. S. D.," of Mobile.--Dress caps are of the lightest possible description, a mixture of blonde, flowers, and ribbon. Much blonde is used in trimming everything. The gold and silver embroidered ribbon is only suitable for evening, or for dress bonnets.

"MILTON, Pa."--The "Dress Book" has been sent; the directions are all practical.

"A YOUNG WIFE" has our best wishes in her new undertaking. If she is at all systematic, she will not find furnishing so difficult as she anticipates. We subjoin the desired list:--

_Kitchen Furnishing List for_ $30.

1 Kitchen Shovel, Tongs, and Poker. 1 Iron Tea-Kettle. 1 Tinned Iron Pot. 1 Tinned Iron Saucepan. 1 Soap-stone Griddle. 2 Tin Bake-Pans. 1 Tin Dripping Pan. 1 Tin Saucepan. 1 Small Tin Kettle. 1 Pepper and Flour Dredge. 3 Tin Pie Plates. 1 Tin Wash-Basin. 1 Dish Pan. 3 Table and Tea-Spoons, Iron. 1 Chop-Knife and Bowl. 1 Tea and Coffee Canister. 2 Japanned Lamps. 1 Match Safe. 1 Chamber Pail. 2 Smoothing Irons. 2 Large Cedar Wash-Tubs. 1 Wash-Board. 3 Doz. Clothes-Pins. 1 Pint Measure. 1 Set Table Mats. 1 Britannia Coffee Pot. 1 " Tea Pot. 6 Knives and Forks, Stag Handles. 1 Pair Carvers to match. 1 Spice Box. 1 Rolling Pin. 1 Corkscrew and Tunnel. 1 Large Waiter. 2 Painted Pails. 1 Coal Hod. 1 Gridiron. 1 Fry Pan. 1 Cullender. 1 Coffee Boiler. 1 Tea Pot. 1 Grater. 1 Tin Dipper. 1 Egg-Whip. 1 Basting-Spoon. 1 Skimmer. 1 Ladle. 1 Meat Fork. 1 Meat Knife. 1 Knife Board. 2 Scrub Brushes. 1 Dust Pan. 1 Dust Brush. 2 Brooms. 1 Coffee Mill. 1 Clothes Horse. 1 Flour Sieve. 1 Oil Filler. 1 Knife-Box. 1 Door Mat. 1 Kitchen Table. 1 Potato Masher. 1 Flour Pail. 1 Pastry Board. 1 Clothes Line.

Fashions.

NOTICE TO LADY SUBSCRIBERS.

Having had frequent applications for the purchase of jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, _the Editress of the Fashion Department_ will hereafter execute commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of a small percentage for the time and research required. Bridal wardrobes, spring and autumn bonnets, dresses, jewelry, bridal cards, cake-boxes, envelopes, etc. etc., will be chosen with a view to economy, as well as taste; and boxes or packages forwarded by express to any part of the country. For the last, distinct directions must be given.

_Orders, accompanied by checks for the proposed expenditure, to be addressed to the care of L. A. Godey, Esq., who will be responsible for the amount, and the early execution of commissions._

_No order will be attended to unless the money is first received._

Instructions to be as minute as is possible, accompanied by a note of the height, complexion, and general style of the person, on which _much depends_ in choice. Dress goods from Levy's or Stewart's; cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from Brodie's, 51 Canal Street, New York; bonnets from Miss Wharton's; jewelry from Bailey's or Warden's, Philadelphia, or Tiffany's, New York, if requested.

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DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION PLATE.

The unusually beautiful fashion plate of this month gives a very correct idea of prevailing spring styles.

_Fig. 1st._--A dress suitable for the morning at a fashionable country house or watering-place, or for dinner. As a home dress, it is very tasteful and simple. The robe may be of pink taffeta, cashmere, or mousseline, open from the throat to the hem of the skirt, though the waist is fitted close to the bust, as in an ordinary tight dress. This opening is finished on each side by a double _ruche_ of the same material, the edges pinked, and is laced across by narrow taffeta ribbon. Chemisette in plaits, with a lace frill. Plain cambric skirt. Shawl of cambric embroidery; close bonnet of pink taffeta and black lace, with an edge formed of very narrow ribbons interlaced with black, to resemble a plaid.

_Fig. 2d._--Walking or dinner-dress of pale green silk, made plain and close; sleeves open and loose. Light mantle of flounces or volants, of white guipure lace, headed by a narrow ribbon of violet color. The bonnet is covered with lace to correspond, and has leaves and ribbons of pale violet crape; tied with broad white taffeta ribbon. Parasol of violet lined with white silk.

It will be noticed that our styles are suited to the May of our Southern readers, and the June wardrobes of our Northern belles, being exceedingly light and simple, as summer dress should always be. Readers round about us are apt to forget that we have to be thoughtful of our far away subscribers as well as themselves.

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CHITCHAT UPON PREVAILING FASHIONS

BRODIE'S MANTILLA EMPORIUM--SHADES OF FASHION, ETC. ETC.

THE present promenade of Broadway extends scarcely to the Astor, in a downward direction; the crush of omnibuses, drays, business men forgetful of especial courtesy in their haste, porters, and laborers, conspire to make a chaos of confusion and discomfort below the Park which few ladies care to adventure. The tide of shoppers sets downward from the New York Hotel, and upwards from the Astor or Irving, meeting in a grand confluence at Canal Street, where you may pat the curbstone with your gaiter from three minutes to a quarter of an hour, watching an opportunity to stem the current and cross to the other side in safety.

Standing on this upper corner, you are in full view of the large freestone front of 51 Canal, the mantilla establishment of Brodie, to which we have promised to introduce our readers.

At this present writing, when everybody wants a mantilla, the graceful article of costume being considered as needful as a spring bonnet, the lower front of Brodie's has a most inviting prospect. It is entirely occupied by two enormous windows and a door of plate glass; the windows being, in reality, small Crystal Palaces for the accommodation of two slowly revolving dames in court costume of brocade or _soie d'antique_, bearing upon their regal shoulders the _chef-d'œuvres_ of the establishment, whether of velvet, guipure, or taffeta, as the season represented may be. At their feet are thrown, in apparent careless, but really artistic confusion, other designs not less elegant and attractive. These figures are of wax, modelled and colored from life, and, having supported the onerous public duties of the World's Fair, are now in the honorable retirement of comparatively private, though by no means secluded life. The room which you enter from the street is fitted up with superb mirrors, ovals and pier, the central one being of remarkable width as well as length. This is not, however, the principal show-room, though the office and much other business is carried on there in appropriate departments, handsomely fitted up. The stairs, covered with velvet carpeting, as, indeed, the whole establishment, lead you to the second floor, pannelled with plate glass mirrors set between the long windows, and in every place in which they can well be inserted. The walls are covered, as below, with delicate French paper, of white and gold, and, with the rich carpet, a drawing-room rather than a business establishment is suggested. Here there are piles of the most elegant and costly styles of mantillas and scarfs, that have given place to the heavy clothes and velvets of the just departed season; and here is a fluttering of silk dresses, a waving of spring garlands, as the busy crowd of purchasers flutter back and forth, exclaiming, "rapturizing," choosing, and trying on the profusion of styles before them. In the centre, is a light iron railing, still white, in keeping with the style of the rooms, over which you can watch the proceedings of the store below, or, looking upwards to a similar balcony, you see another story, apparently fitted and furnished as the show-room in which you now are.

This is the wholesale department, of course by far the most important of all. Ordinarily, you would have no call to ascend the stairs; but, being this morning a privileged visitor, you find there Mr. Brodie himself, in the midst of his importations, designs, and manufactures, his clerks, his saleswomen, whose patient shoulders and black silk dresses give an additional air to the latest styles, and his wholesale customers, for whom he is daily shipping packages, parcels, and boxes, north, south, east, and west; but especially south and west, where doubtless our own subscribers will be among the purchasers and the wearers.

If your curiosity will carry you up still another flight, Mr. Brodie's politeness will conduct you to a passing glance of the work-room, occupying the floor above. It would not be polite to watch too long the rows upon rows of girls and women busy with the silks, laces, ribbons, and other delicate materials of their craft; but you see that they are all busy and comfortable, with light and good fresh air in abundance. Yet higher! You noticed below how rich and how abundant was the embroidery, with what precision it was executed; here there is a row of frames, where embroidery, the lightest and richest, is executed by those to whom the work is not a pastime, but a regular and profitable occupation. Here is the pure white _poult de soie_ of the "Snow-Drop," for instance, cut and ready for making up; the design traced upon it, tacked as smoothly upon the frame as the canvas of a picture, is stretched before the artist. The rapid and regular movement of the needle is covering it with the rich work that the young Southern bride will glory over, when the all-important box--the _trousseau_--reaches her from New York. There is, besides these frames, a large embroidery department, situated up town, under Mr. Brodie's constant supervision. But here the new styles are first tried, that he may thus be able to regulate the prices of work, the quantity of material, etc., to be given out. In preparing for the winter season, this whole floor is filled with quilting-frames for the mantle and cloak linings; still another branch of female industry.

Some idea of the great amount of employment an establishment like this gives to the industrious classes of the city, may be formed from this bird's-eye view of the interior of Brodie's. Three hundred workmen are engaged from season to season in preparing the piles of costly draperies we have seen, as the raw material comes in only to be manufactured. Thus, the velvets, cloths, silks, etc., with the lighter fabrics, and trimmings of ribbon, lace, gimp, are imported by Mr. Brodie himself, and his designs are furnished by leading Parisian houses, known in the pages of "_La Follet_," "_La Modiste_," "_Petit Courrier des Dames_," and other journals of fashion.

Last, but not least, this fine building, with its costly decorations, this immense stock of goods, these busy purchasers and workwomen, are the rapid products of a persevering industry and enterprise that, were the story told, could scarcely be believed. The private history of most successful business men is a commentary upon the proverb, "Diligence is the mother of good-luck." Mr. Brodie's is a remarkable illustration. His is the only establishment in the country entirely devoted to the one branch of manufacture; his whole time, thoughts, correspondence, and Parisian visits centering on its improvement and success.

We have given time and space to the principal theme of our "Chat," partly that our readers may see how various are the styles of every article of wearing apparel, and how safely they may trust themselves to a new and graceful form, even though Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Brown do not happen to have brought it from New York or New Orleans. At Brodie's, for instance, each style is made up in every prevailing shade of silk. What folly in Mrs. Jones to say, "Green is the rage!" In a large city, nothing is the rage; if it approaches such a culmination, it is given up in a very few weeks.

As of mantles, so of bonnets. The milliner has her _Parisienne_ models, and her working materials, and employées. No two bonnets in her show-room must be precisely alike. So of the mantuamaker, who varies her shapes and her trimmings to suit her material, the figure, height, or complexion of her customer. Straw bonnets are perhaps the most uniform of all in shape; but here, again, there is every variety of ribbon and trimming. No two bows are made alike. _City people will not submit to uniforms._

There is a general _style_ in the fashions of each season, but inflections and shades as various as its grass and leafage. Our next "Chat," as in the April number, will be of these, as June admits of changes that our Northern May denies. July will claim, as usual, its watering-place and travelling fashions, with nursery items, welcome at any season to the busy mother of a household.

FASHION.

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+----------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber notes: | | | | P. 388. Closing brackets. | | p. 397. 'Still unmarried', added incomplete word 'still'. | | P. 404. 'Actaurus in Bootes' changed to 'Arcturus in Boötes'. | | P. 416. 'find it out', joining word likely to be 'it'. | | P. 432. 'whch is', changed to 'which is'. | | P. 466. 'haev' changed to 'have' in 'may not have'. | | P. 473. 'Listz' changed to 'Liszt'. | | p. 473. Incomplete word added 'feeling'. | | | | Fixed various punctuation. | +----------------------------------------------------------------+