Iioire Mtscellann. 
r e 
JUBILEE SONG. 
Tnn following ode, written by Olivkr WbNdkll 
Holmes, is to be sung at the dedication of the 
Coliseum erected for the Peace Jubilee in Boston : 
Angel of Peace, thou hast wandered too long! 
Spread thy white wings to the sunshine of love! 
Come while env voices are blended in song,— 
Fly to our uric like the storm-beaten dove 1 
Fly to our arlc on the wings of the dove,— 
Speed o'er the far-sounding billows of song, 
Crowned with thine olive-leaf garland of love,— 
Angel of Pence, thou bast waited loo long! 
Brothers we meet, on this altar of thine. 
Mingling the gifts we have gathered for thee. 
Sweet with the odors of myrtle and pine, 
Brec*e of the prairie and breath of the sen,— 
Meadow and mountain and forest and sea ! 
Sweet is the fragrance of myrtle and pine. 
Sweeter the incense we offer to thee. 
Brothers once more round this altar of thine ! 
Angels of Bethlehem, answer the strain > 
Hark! a new birtb-song Is Ailing the sky !— 
Loud as the storm-wind that tumbles the main 
Bid the full breath of the organ reply,— 
JLct the loud tempest of voices reply,— 
Roll its long surge like the earth-shaking ruaiu ! 
Swell the vast song till it mounts to the sky ! 
Angels of Bethlehem, echo the strain ! 
EXTEMPORIZING. 
LIFE 
LABOR. 
In early days there was more extempo- ft 
rizing than now. Many of the finest literary h 
productions were delivered orally. Prof, r; 
Srf.dd, in his Homiletics, says“ The blind t,l 
Homf.r extemporized the Iliad and Odyssey, v 
Milton, in his blindness, dictated to his w 
daughter the Paradise Lost." To extern- ti 
porize well of necessity requires much study g 
and practice; but it is an accomplishment ii 
greatly to be desired, and amply rewarding g. 
all effort to acquire it. The habit of com s 
milting ideas to paper is more prevalent o 
than it need be, among public speakers. It v 
is not absolutely necessary that an address 1 
be carefully written out, in order that it a 
shall have dearness and finish. 1 
Extemporizing is the fruit of thought. No l 
man is sufficiently quick in observation, in- r 
ference and conclusion, to talk or speak 
profitably upon any subject, without some j 
kind of premeditation. He must either have j 
dwelt, in his own mind, on that subject, or c 
on one or more cognate to it. lie is assisted i 
by some familiar ideas. lie may evolve i 
new ones, to be sure,—new even to himself,— t 
but they are born of others which have pre- f 
seated themselves to him often before. They 1 
are the result, indirectly, perhaps, of hours t 
of careful reading or study, just as really as j 
is the deliberately prepared oration, or the < 
chapter of history. < 
Men read, or should read, for a purpose, i 
That purpose is to stimulate thought, not ] 
merely to gather facts or theories, or enjoy i 
beautiful sentiment, beautifully expressed. , 
Reading most widely suggestive is altogether 
the most profitable. The mind which is only ( 
a storehouse of dead letters would never | 
think of extemporizing. Such a mind is like i 
a dull, stupid cydoptedia — and not half so ] 
useful. It does not give out anything, Touch ' 
it, and it, never sparkles with brilliancy. It 
has smothered all suggestions, if any have 
been borne in upon it. Inert, sluggish,— it 
is only that, and nothing more. 
As essentials, then, to extemporizing, we 
name reading, thought and practice. For 
the latter we have abundant opportunity. 
Ail conversation is extemporizing, though 
by no means of the higher species. Tt. may 
be made even this, however. lie is the most 
delightful conversationist who has carried 
extemporizing to greatest perfection. He 
who has read most, and has the largest 
amount, of suggestions constantly at control, 
is ever the most en joyable companion. And, 
to go with extemporizing where many im¬ 
agine it is solely to be found,— upon the 
platform or in the pulpit, the fluent man in 
conversation, who charms us in our parlor, 
is the one who extemporizes most brilliantly, 
and fascinates us most completely, in public. 
The days of minstrelsy are forever gone 
by, and we shall have no more Iliads direct 
from the mouth of the minstrel. Impro¬ 
vising, as it existed in the olden lime, would 
not answer to-day. Among many thousands 
of wandering singers there was only one 
Homkr and one Virgil; and there have 
been no others since. Such improvising as 
the commoner minstrels were equal to would 
be too crude and coarse for present refined 
and cultured tastes; therefore extemporizing 
will not include verse. The tongue that can 
shape a sentence rhetorically correct, bear¬ 
ing a fine thought, and interlink it with any 
number of others like unto it, cannot mean¬ 
while wed it to the melody of perfect 
rhythm. If the attempt be made, doggerel 
is the result, and the memory of those glo¬ 
rious singers of old is outraged. But there 
may be extemporizing in prose, and in just 
the degree in which it is truly extemporizing 
\ will it be other than prosy. Genuine extem- 
To live is not alone to eat and drink, and 
satiate that part of our nature common alike 
to man and beast; but to fulfill a higher 
destiny, reserved only for him who bears the 
image of his Maker. It is not to think, and 
dream, and paint the ideal of true nobility 
in glittering colors, so frail that the first 
damp ot reality will wash them away 
Something more substantial must be done, 
Thought must be embodied in noble deeds. 
Labor is an essential element to manliness. 
Among the untold races of earth how 
much of waste material do wc find. Num¬ 
berless are the generations that have sprung 
and perished since “ first the flight of years 
began;” and yet, of them all how few lived. 
Nations have sprung up, rushed wildly 
across the track of existence and then van¬ 
ished, leaving scarce a vestige behind them. 
While earth never ceased in the continued 
renovation of her work, beautifying and 
adorning her waste places, man groped 
blindly for centuries in the darkness of su¬ 
perstition and ignorance. 
The daring imagination of Raphael and 
Michael Anoki.o sped not on idle wing 
through the widening halls of ideality, but 
diligently treasured the glowing tints and 
forms of beauty; and though long years 
have elapsed, an admiring world gaze with 
raptures on the bright, embodiments of 
thought which reveal something higher than 
earth and poet and painter. The rolling 
wave of coming years will wash away slight 
tracings on the sand. Our names must be 
graven deeper, and on something more last¬ 
ing, and the material of our living he con 
solidated Into strong ioiindations and noble 
superstructure. The stupendous products 
of Egyptian skill at Luxor stand close to the 
waters that ripple at their feet, immovable 
barriers to the further ingress of the waves; 
and so must our life work be, not crumbling 
before the lashings of time’s rough waves, 
but immutable monuments whose beauty' 
neither winds nor waves shall mar. 
Not only are they great whose genius dis¬ 
plays itself in the. sculptor’s model and the 
painter’s master-piece, hut they whose labor 
quietly works out the destiny of nations, 
unfastening the chains of barbarism. Not 
with the din and bustle of anvil and hammer 
do these busy toilers work, but silently, ami 
away from the curious eyes of a busy world. 
Half in glimmer and half In gloom, they see 
the magic ideal, whose motive power is to 
impel a nation or develop intricate State 
questions, and tearing aside the veil of ob¬ 
scurity which envelops it, they seize and 
bring it to the gaze of an astonished world. 
But for these glorious ends heart and brain 
must work; there must be unremitting ener 
gy, untiring toil. 
Have we a life purpose, strong, earnest 
and worthy, which looks forward to eternal 
results? Let us never weary in it, complain¬ 
ing not, though the brain be tired and the 
heart ache. Diligence must have its reward, 
The reward sliull be rich in blessing, and 
this brief life be but the ante-chamlicr to the 
more glorious world in which is the more per¬ 
fect work of the redeemed spirit. Selene. 
jllohcs ant) Manners. 
<?> 
THE COQUETTE. 
“ You’re clever at draw Ini?, I own,” 
Said my beautiful cousin Lisette, 
As we sat by the window alone; 
*• But say. cau you ouiot a Coquette ? 
“She's painted already," quoth I; 
“ Nay, nay ! ” said the laughing Lisette, 
“ Now noun of your Joking, but try 
And paint me a thorough Coquette ” 
“ Well, cousin,” at once I began 
In the ear ot the ouger Lisette, 
" I’ll paint you as well as I can 
That wonderful thing, a Coquette. 
“ She wears a most beautiful face,” 
(" Of course I” said the pretty Lisette,) 
“ And isn’t deficient, in gYaec. 
Or else she were uot a Coqetto. 
“ And then she is daintily made,” 
(A smile from the daiuty Lisette,) 
“ By people expert In the trade 
Of forming a proper Coquette. 
“She's the winnlngest ways with the beaux,” 
(“Go on !”) said the wlmUng Lisette, 
“ But there Isn’t a man of them knows 
The mind of the tickle. Coquette ! 
“ She knows how to weep and to slgb,” 
(A sigh from the tender Lisette,I 
" But her weeping is all In my eye— 
Not that Of the cunning Coquette ! 
"la short, she's a creature of art,” 
(“O hush! ” said the frowning Lisette,) 
“ With merely the ghost of a heart 
Enough for a thorough Coquette. 
" And yet I could easily prove,” 
(“ Now don’t! ” said the angry Lisette.) 
"The lady Is always in love- 
in love with herself—the Coquette! 
" There—do not be angry'.—you know, 
My dear little cousin Lisette, 
You told me a moment ago 
To paint you— tt thorough Coquette ! ” 
[Joint O. Saxe. 
-- 
FASHION CHIT-CHAT. 
Various Items Answers to Correspondents. 
BY MfNTWOOB. 
spread is infinitely cheaper, in far better 
taste, than the most elaborate patch work 
quilt ever made. Sew together your small 
pieces of calico for the sake, ot economy or 
utility, and make comfortables, which can 
be tied off in a day. But for an outside 
spread hate white, and a light one is washed 
nearly as easily as a sheet. 
Chintzes in the very fashionable stripes 
range front forty-five cents to one dollar per 
yard, and are seven-eighths in width. Very 
intricate and oriental designs come higher. 
To cover a sofa, stool or chair, cut a paper 
pattern of the bottom, back and sides. The 
curtain or fall should go entirely around t he 
chair. Cord the seams and bind the edges 
with !i contrasting color. No furniture is 
prettier for country houses than chintz 
covered. 
A ilk worn to Correspondents. 
Moina.—A lioh ii, or round Cape, of white ba¬ 
rege or Swiss, would bo pretty for you to Wear 
witli summer dresses. If you haven new dress 
made, have capo, or sleeveless jacket, of same, 
to wear with it. A butt linen suit, trimmed with 
black or white braid, or cambric, would he neat, 
serviceable and Inexpensive. Head about wraps 
in last number. 
Emma M. The small jackets for cool morning 
and evening wear, are cut loose, with only 
seams on the shoulders and under the arms; 
coat sleeves, or moderately loose and Rowing 
ones, close or open at the throat. The scarf 
burnous, of a sort of basket cloth, in Homan 
stripes, will be very fashionable lor evening 
wrap. They cost, from twelve to sixteen dollars. 
A short basque, sacque or cape, would bo suita- 
able for your pique. The open, rounded tunic, 
trimmed with fringe, as yon suggest, would do. 
Would not advise un overskirt with such heavy 
material pique. Ti lilies are uncle m a \ liriety 
of shapes, open on shies, and behind also. Fringe 
is much worn lor trimming suits, aside from the 
flounces and pull’s and ruffles on bottom of skirt. 
Flounces six inches in width are put on nearly as 
many inches apart, or above each other, and laid 
in inch box plait* at broad Intervals. 
To your question of bows, yes. Hows, with 
“ many Strings," at least from three to five ends. 
cv> 
Ribbiitb llcatung. 
MY ANGEL-DRESS. 
Heavenly Father, i would wear 
Angctl-garments, white and fair; 
Angel-venture amlellled 
Wilt Tlum give unto Thy child ! 
Not n mho of many hues, 
Such as earthly fathers choose : 
Discord weaves the guudy vest: 
Not iu such let mo bo drost. 
Take the raiment soiled away 
That I wear with tdtumoto-day; 
Give my angel-robe to me, 
Whlto with heavenly purity. 
Take away my Cloak of prldo, 
And the worthless rags ’twould hide; 
Clothe me In my angel-dress, 
Beautiful with holiness. 
Perfume every fold with leva, 
Hinting heaven where'er I move; 
As un Indian vessel’s sails 
Whisper of her costly bales. 
Let me wear my whlto robes here. 
Even on earth, my Father, dear. 
Holding fast Thy hand, and so 
Through the world unspotted go. 
Let me now my white robes wear; 
Then l need no more prepare, 
All appareled for my homo 
Whensoever Thou dullest, “Cornel 
Thus appareled t shall bo 
As a signal set for Thee, 
That the wretched and the weak 
May the same fair garments seek. 
“ Buy of Me,” I hear Thee say; 
I have naught wherewith to pay. 
But I give myself to Thee; 
Clothed, adopted 1 shall be. 
[Lucy Larcon. 
THE WORK OF PURIFYING. 
It is to be an individual and an organized 
work, for the goad of individuals and com¬ 
munities. There never was a time when a 
trimmed all around, and the bow with a number purifying influence was more needed in our 
As essentials, then, to extemporizing, we SANDWICHES. 
ame reading, thought and practice. For - t 
ie latter wc have abundant opportunity. What time by the clock is the best for a t 
ill conversation is extemporizing, though pun? A joke takes best when it strikes one. t 
y no means of the higher species. It may Why do little birds in their nest agree? t 
e made even this, however. lie is the most Because if they did not, they would fall out. 
elightlul conversationist who has carried Beauty is no longer amiable than while ] 
xtemporizing to greatest perfection. He virtu0 Bdoma it) and virtue itself is true , 
,-ho has read most, and has the largest ] jeaut y 
mount, of suggestions constantly at control, T . , , . 
. . . . , If you are angry with him that reproves i 
i ever the most enjoyable companion. And, . ,, * 
- . . * . your sin, you secretly confess your anger to i 
o go with extemporizing where many un- jj,,. • , 
giuc it is solely to be found,— upon the " lllJUS ' 
ilatform or in the pulpit, the fluent man in * IIE conscience has to do, not with fitness, 
on vernation, who charms us in our parlor, or expediency, or advantage, but with right, 
» the one who extemporizes most brilliantly, um ' wrong. 
ind fascinates us most completely, in public. Men of genius are often dull and inert in 
The days of minstrelsy are forever gone society ; us the blazing meteor, when it, de- 
»y, and we shall have no more Iliads direct scends to earth, is only stone, 
rom the mouth of the minstrel. Impro- In the church-yard at Neillebed, Oxford¬ 
rising, as it existed In the olden time, would shire, is the following epitaph : 
lot answer to-day. Among many thousands Here lie* the body of Nicholas Round. 
,, , . ! ., , Who was lost in tlie sea, and never was found. 
:>f wandering singers there was only one , . , , , 
,,. , , r , „„ „ , , It is a common saying that, the lower order 
Homkr and one Virgil; and there have , . . , . 
., . ti i • . - ot animals have not the vices ot man; yet it. 
been no others since. Such improvising as . ... „ , . , , 
,. • . , 1-11 is certain that some ot the insects are back- 
the commoner minstrels were equal to would ,.. , ,, , , , - , , 
. , , , ,. . „ , biters, and all tlie quadrupeds tale-bearers, 
be too crude and coarse tor preseut refined 1 1 
and cultured tastes; therefore extemporizing ^ ,n,UTE philosopher once thanked a lady 
will not include verse. The tongue that can who hacl be ‘‘ l ‘ to a party for an hour, 
shape a sentence rhetorically correct, bear- Madam, you have wasted our 
ing a fine thought, and interlink it with any l ‘ lu '" °l iarm i 11 gly. 
number of others like unto it, cannot mean- - M VN once went to an eccentric lawyer 
while wed it to the melody of perfect to be qualified for some petty office. The 
rhythm. If the attempt be made, doggerel lawyer said to him, “ Hold up your hand, I’ll 
is the result, and the memory of those glo- swear you, but all creation couldn’t qualify 
rious singers of old is outraged. But, there y° u ” 
may be extemporizing in prose, and in just An Irish lad complained the other day of 
the degree in which it is truly extemporizing the harsh treatment he had received from his 
will it. be other than prosy. Genuine extern- father. “He treats me," said he mourn fill- 
pore speech,—thought born of study and ly, “ as if I was his son by another father and 
thrilled with a new life bv the events and mother.” 
If one can “ afford it,” it is never extrava- '■ 
guut, to buy expensive fabrics that will 
always be fashionable, and last one a life¬ 
time, and be handed down to the next gene¬ 
ration. People often think a woman who 
pays one or three thousand dollars for an 
India camel’s hair shawl commits a great, 
extravagance. An India shawl is a private 
fortune, and never loses its value. We saw 
one the other day the price of which was 
five thousand dollars, ami it hail been worn 
for nearly half a century by some oriental 
heathen, before being purchased by one of 
our merchant princes for that, snug Rule sum. 
It had a small oval of white in the center, 
and there are skillful, clever, Paris-educated 
needle women who take out and put, in new 
centers so deftly that one would never know 
it. These shawls, made with the fingers, all 
the brilliant hues interwoven and Ihe intri¬ 
cate designs wrought by the. alow method of 
almost pnre creation, are, to the uneducated 
eye, very common looking affairs, and would 
pass very probably, for a finely woven 
broehe, and simple people would be aston¬ 
ished that so rich and fashionable a lady 
should wear such a common shawl. 
For a summer carriage lap cloth to pro¬ 
tect clothing from the dust and dirt, of riding, 
brown linen is used. It may be ornamented 
to suit the fancy. Scarlet, braid applied in 
the Grecian design is tasteful. 
Baskets, lined with leather, and furnished 
like a small dining table, witli every conve¬ 
nience for storing and eating edibles while 
traveling, range in price from four and a half 
to twelve dollars. People who are wise 
carry their own luncheon when traveling, 
knowing the inconvenience and the indigest- 
iblcness that uerue from the “ ten minutes for 
dinner” sung out at way restaurants. 
Muff boxes, lined with cedar, for storing 
furs during the summer, have been manufac¬ 
tured during the past, pear, and sell for sev¬ 
enty-five cents. They arc very nice, and 
promise good service. 
Neck-ties are worn large and flat. Sashes 
in French ribbon are in large solid plaids. 
Gloves, in Lisle thread are made with gaunt¬ 
lets, iu nearly every color, and bear washing 
well. For summer wear, they are cooler and 
more economical than kid. Kid gloves in 
intense colors are much worn. Emerald 
green, rose, yellow, blue, or whatever hai- 
. monizes or wholly contrasts with the suit 
of loops, are worn at t Re Rack uy slender women. 
Stout ones do with leas “humping." 
Cut your mull dress with a moderate train, I 
(and your petticoat of same length,) and If you i 
want the underskirt quite ornate, trim with a , 
Straight eight-inch flounce, headed with double 
putt's or rucking, or narrow ruffles Of same. Cut 
the bottom of pounce in two-inch points, with 
u straight outline four Inches In length bet ween , 
each point. Edge with narrow lace. To put on 
the flounce lay In box plaits, so that a point IRi- 
islu-s each plait at. the bottom. Shirred waist 
and sleeves, with trimming put on to define a 
yoke. Square or heart-shaped waists are vory 
generally worn. Narrow neck ribbons, of black 
velvet, and Into string, are still poputar. Brace¬ 
lets are very fashionable on both wrists, but 
ear rings are quite out. of date among fashion¬ 
able, intelligent women, even if tolerated six 
months ago. We liopo yon will have a good 
time at the Springs, and not feel at all uncom¬ 
fortable If in dress you find yourself “ nowhore" 
among the glittering butterflies who spend their 
souls on their bodies. Wo rather lounge under 
an elm in some green meadows we know of. 
Elsik Hoyt. Buff marsoilles or pique will 
be worn by those desiring it. Cut and trim same 
as a pique. Suitable for church. Skirt and basque 
scolloped and bound with black, headed Willi 
narrow rows of black braid, would give good 
effect. Get Ihe corded pique. Butwhy not get, 
instead of marseilles or pique, h cambric walk¬ 
ing suit? They come iu patterns of eleven 
yards, and may be bad In good quality and ele¬ 
gant designs for $4. A fashion plate accom¬ 
panies each, showing a style of construction. 
A wrap for an elderly lady in deep mourning 
may he a loose ensaque of same material as 
her dress, both trimmed with bands or plaiting 
of English crape; or a black cachemire or gren¬ 
adine shawl. 
---- 
DRESS IN PARIS. 
The Purls correspondent of the Boston 
Journal writes as follows of matters of dress 
in what is popularly supposed to be the 
actual headquarters of “ style”; 
“ It is said Paris gives fashion to the world. 
This may be, but. if so she is so liberal that 
she has none left for her own children. A 
more common looking set of women than 
the Parisians cannot he found on the face of 
the globe. I have seen thorn everywhere. 
Ill church, at places of amusement, on the 
promenade, in saloons of royalty, in parties 
very distinguished and regarded ns very gen¬ 
teel. I declare I have scarcely seen a well- 
dressed lady in Paris, one* who did not. look 
frowsy, whose hair was not untidy, and 
whose complexion would not he the better 
for soap and water. They may make the 
nicest, fitting gloves in the world, but they 
don’t wear them. They may send out, the 
daintiest shoes that can be made, but 1 hey 
are not found on the feet of the ladies. 'I heir 
nicely fitting dresses may be found in all the 
■ cities of the world, hut the dresses worn by 
midst than at present. The very air is 
tainted with pollution. Sin Is rampant in 
every form. It makes use of everything 
sweet and gladdening, which, it can impress, 
to forward its unholy purposes. Song is 
prostituted upon the stage, and in opera 
bovffi) becomes only the agency of base dia¬ 
logue and baser leers. Beauty is garnished 
with tinsel and gewgaws, and shows itself 
uubluahingly before gaping thousands in a 
way that should put all beholders to shame. 
And maddening drink endeavors to make 
itself respectable in high places and at fash¬ 
ionable boards, and is spreading damnation 
all about us. 
These are strong words, blit they tell 
strong truths. Moral sentiment is going 
down. As a people wo have seen so much 
of indecency in public amusements, have 
witnessed the ruin of so many by the inebri¬ 
ating cup, that we have come to pay 
little heed to the matter. Indeed many 
have said in their own hearts,—“ It is no use 
trying to check this tide of iniquity. It is 
stronger than wc, and our only way is to sit 
patiently by and let it take, its course.” And 
in a sort of blind, lazy trust, glad to shift all 
responsibility upon other shoulders, they 
have added,— “ God will provide. lie will 
not let it completely overwhelm us.” 
It is a miserable faith that believes simply 
because too shiftless to work. The day of 
miracles may not he fully gone by, and God 
may purify society in some strange and 
miraculous way; but we think otherwise. 
We believe lie will accomplish the work 
through human agency, and that all who sit 
I idly by and see crime and iniquity flooding 
communities must assist therein, or complete 
social ruin impends. Good men and women 
must take hold of this down-going moral 
sentiment and lift, it up. By the power of 
their actions, by the force of their words, they 
must carry a new influence into all places. 
All species of degrading sin will say to us, 
perhaps, as did the devils of old, in the man 
possessed of them, to the master whom 
they recognized afar off,—“ Art thou come 
to torment us before our time?” But has 
iniquity any claim which we are bound to 
respect ? Arc base, vile men, all filthy with 
their vileness, to say to us,—“This is our 
season. You may work after a while; we 
have the field yet. ? ” Did not Christ liavo 
authority to cast out those devils? Verily, 
Tic did ; and ever since then good men, 
• moved by all the nobler instincts of man- 
, hood, have had a perfect right to say to all 
, the devils iu society, whatever their name, 
or however respectable they might appear— 
! “ Come out.” And they must exercise that 
worn. the ladies ot Paris are ill-fitted, ill-adjusted, or however respecramc incy m.gut ^ 
Hair is worn quite compact and flat on without harmony of colors, without that in- “ Come out. 1 ") Iim '\. » 
the head, giving woman’s head quite its deserihable touch which marks the lady of 1,, i a 3* 1 * 
natural shape again. Some of the round- taste and discrimination. The more costly an d carried tonvara. 
faced maidens wear their hair arranged in the material the less becoming the parties . 
finger puffs over the forehead. Under a appear. Except the Empress, T. have not A Fitting Rebuke.— av uig; in my yo , 
bonnet it lias a queenly, coronal look. Been an elegantly dressed Parisian lady, notions ot severe pn.tv, sajs a ce e Jia cc 
Sheeting two and a quarter yards in Princess Ci.oth.de— who ranks next to tlie Persian writer, I usu to n^m £ 
width sells for fifty to sixty cents per yard. Empress, who is one of the royal family, watch, pray and . these exercises °mv 
Wamsutta muslin is heaviest, the Utica is and to whom all parties must seek an intro- as \s as nn, 1iCal Y ; rtue a 4oke 
finer and free from dressing. Light, summer duct ion who are presented to the Empress— futhei a n. i: _ ‘ „ j n!(1 T in 
blankets, of the softest, downiest wool, with 
handsome borders and bound with silk, sell 
for $4.75 each. Large size winter blankets 
for $3.50 per pair. Honey comb cotton 
, spreads sell for $2 and $3.50. Marseilles 
| spreads from $0 to $10. A white bed- 
surroundings of the moment,—approaches 
nearest the sublime. 
---- 
Good words and good deeds are the rent 
we owe for the air we breathe. 
A xv business is more respectable than what 
is termed loafing. A young man bad better 
sell clams by the pailful than hang around 
public resorts, murdering time and his own 
, reputation. 
A Fitting Rebuke.— Having in my youth 
notions of severe piety, says a celebrated 
Persian writer, I used to rise in the night to 
watch, pray and read the Koran. One night, 
as 1 was engaged in these exercises, my 
father, a man of practical virtue, awoke 
dresses like a fright. She is very short, 
enormously fat, and what little neck she has 
is very large, like her father’s. And when 
she arrays herself in the so-called evening 
dress, with a very low neck, she is a sight to 
behold.” 
while I was reading. “ Behold,” said I to 
him, “ thy other children are lost in irrelig¬ 
ious slumber, while I alone awake to praise 
God.” Son of my soul,” he answered, “ it is 
better to sleep than to wake to remark the 
faults of thy brethren.” 
