jabirs* ]lort-3folto. 
THE COMING. 
I gathered flowers the summer long; 
1 dozed the dnys on sunny loaa, 
And wove my fancies Into song, 
Or dreamed In aimless enso. 
■Or watched, from jutting cliffs, the dyes 
Of changeful water* under me,— 
The \azy gulls that dip and rise. 
White specks upon the sea; 
And far away, where blue to blue 
Was wed, the ships that came and went; 
And thought. 0 happy world ! and drew 
Therefrom a full content. 
My mates toiled in the ripening Hold, 
Nor paused for rest in cool or heat; 
The yellow grain made haste to yield 
Its harvesting complete. 
Sly mates tolled In their pleasant homes. 
They plucked the fruit from laden boughs, 
And sang, “For if the Master comes 
And find no ready house!” 
And far and strange their singing seemed, 
And harsh their voices every one. 
That woke the pleasant (lreum I drenm'd 
To thought of tasks undone. 
Yet still t waited, lingered still. 
Won by a cloud,—u soaring lark ; 
Till, by-and-by, the land was chill. 
And all the sky was dark. 
And to, the Master ! Through the night; 
My mates come forth to welcome Him: 
The labor done, their garments white, 
While mine are stained and dim. 
They bring to Him their golden sheaves; 
To Him their finished toil belongs; 
While 1 have but these withered leaves. 
And these poor, foolish songB ! 
[Ovuland Monthly. 
--- 
RIDICULING OLD MAIDS- 
BY LINDEN BRUCE. 
Eveby week of every year there are mul¬ 
titudes of young women rushing into matri¬ 
mony, simply to escape the odium which 
ridicule fastens upon the unmarried. IIow 
common, among a class not truly refined, to 
hear the father, the mother, the spruce, airy 
brothers— the sisters, even, laugh at some 
daughter in the family, for some, peculiarity, 
and call her an “ old maid.” 
We never hear this without a feeling of 
intense pain. It is a practice none the 
less t.o be deprecated because often done 
thoughtlessly. Many a parent reaps a tem¬ 
pest. of sorrow in the unfortunate alliance of 
a child who has rushed madly on into misery 
to escape what Is, in fact, no disgrace. Far 
greater the shame of those who throw them¬ 
selves away, and those who goad them to 
the sacrifice. Let not the latter cluss over 
for a moment he so inconsistent, as to blame 
youug, silly girls because all their thoughts 
seem to-be devoted to the ways and means 
of securing a husband. The fault lies with 
those who speak reproachfully, sneeringly, 
narrowly of the unmarried. 
As it is, many a woman too true to herself 
and her race to marry Unworthily,—whom 
untoward circumstances have hedged about, 
— whom, perhaps, duty bound to feeble, 
helpless parents—has moved steadily, un¬ 
flinchingly on, unwon, into the ranks of the 
middle-aged, who would have been content, 
happy, useful and beloved, but for this bane¬ 
ful sneer of narrow minds. A woman deli¬ 
cate, sensitive, and truly noble as many an 
unmarried woman who has passed thirty 
years is, who can stand unaweryed from the 
line of right, and feel no cynicism growing 
up, but remain sweet, good-humored, gentle 
and tender through life, under such circum¬ 
stances, is very little short of a saint. Unless 
she be more than mortal, she soon feels a 
little isolated, and shrinks from society. She 
has seen too often the lurking sneer, the ex¬ 
changed glance, not to understand its mean¬ 
ing and feel the venom of its sting. 
One would suppose it were enough that 
such a frail, dependent being should see the 
bright hues of her life drifting away while 
she dares to do what, under all the circum¬ 
stances, she feels to be right,— enough that 
she should find herself standing more and 
more alone upon the barren sands of life, as 
her early friends pass away,—enough that 
she should look upon the happiness of many 
a home where is love, confidence, and the 
pleasant, mingling of earth’s joys, that her 
heart appreciates and sometimes yearns, for a 
place she could so well fill,-with credit to 
herself and all about her,— enough that she 
should see all this, feel all this, and yet dare 
to stand alone, strong, yet weak, frail, yet 
self-reliant, and bear the pangs her heart 
must feel, the anguish her nobie spirit con¬ 
ceals. And yet it seems, ye who 9 coff, who 
deride, whatever the rank you claim, that 
this is not enough. In your magnanimity 
you are doing all in your power to drive her 
yet more within herself, make her desolate 
life more desolate, her loneliness more in¬ 
tensely lonely. Her heart beats warm, and 
full ot tenderness, yet you chill it at the 
fountain; and make that old which other¬ 
wise would never grow aged. 
^ ou w ho bandy as a sweet morsel under 
your tongues the words “ old maid,” com¬ 
plain not if your children, sisters, compan¬ 
ions or friends pass unheeding your advice, 
and bind themselves to misery and a worth¬ 
less husband to escape your sneers. Few 
people arc strong enough to endure, un¬ 
harmed, a sneer; blatnc them not if they be 
not of tlie number. You have sowed, and, 
like many another, you must reap. 
There comcth a day of unveiling, when 
will be brought to light concealed suffering, 
heroically borne; deeds of self-sacrifice un¬ 
noticed by the crowd, and unappreciated; 
love, deep, and tcuder, and true, lost among 
the sands of life; struggles with and victo¬ 
ries over temptation noted by Heaven alone; 
revelations of what many a noble heart hath 
borne and done in silence. They murmured 
not, complained not. Hath Heaven no re¬ 
compense? There arc strong who never 
take a city. There are wise and lovely and 
of good report w ho dio al&ne, and yet not 
alone. 
-- 
ONE GIRL’S DOING. 
A -WRiTEK in the La Salle Union tells a 
pleasant little story of a young lady, who in 
1862 was a student in the Normal University 
of Illinois. She was a good-natured, quiet 
girl, and a tolerable scholar; but. in those 
studies requiring composition she failed 
hopelessly, and could not pass an examina¬ 
tion. She tried it for five years, and she 
might have kept on trying had not a change 
come. We will let the writer tell of this 
change and what came of it: 
Her parents lived in Bloomington, whore 
her father carried on a furniture store. lie 
was stricken down by disease, and, after a 
long and lingering illness, died, leaving 
M-, the oldest girl, her mother, a younger 
sister and two younger brothers, all of them 
dependent upon their sister for a livelihood. 
People sympathized with her—sympathy is 
so cheap—and came to the following charit¬ 
able conclusions: 
First. Tlmt she would have a hard time 
of it. 
Second. That the best thing she could do 
would be to get married. 
Third. That if site couldn’t do that she 
might be able to teach school. 
And having thus settled her case, they left 
her to her fate. 
Then the girl's nature asserted itself. In¬ 
stead of selling off fhe stock which her father 
left, for what she could get, and living on it 
until something turned up, she hired work¬ 
men, pul the stock to rights, and sold it at 
retail. People pitied her—but they bought 
her goods. People sympathized with her, as 
if jt was a dreadful thing for a girl to do 
what in a boy would have been thought 
highly commendable. 
When the stock ran low, she astonished 
her friends by going to New York City and 
buying a larger lot of furniture than any one 
ever before had had the hardihood to bring 
to Bloomington—and what, is more, she sold 
it. For the first, year the open sympathy 
anil covert sneers of her friends were hard to 
bear. 
She succeeded of course. The other day 
we saw her, after seven years of hard work. 
The same old-fashioned, quiet, good-natured 
manner, the same .M-, unpretentious, 
obliging, demure. 
And yet she owns a store worth $18,000, 
iu tlni upper story of which she began her 
labors, but which is filled from cellar to gar¬ 
ret with her goods. She purchased a house 
some time ago for $7,000, and can sell it now 
for $10,000. She has $80,000 in real estate, 
with a stock worth $20,000 more, and all 
paid up. 
- +++ -. 
LONGING FOR AFFECTION. 
Love is the deepest attribute of humanity; 
the desire for its kindly ministerings is 
stronger than any other desire wc know. 
Said Charlotte Bronte once, and very 
truly: 
“ However old, humble, desolate, or afflict- 
ed we may be, so long as our hearts possess 
the feeblest spark of life, they preserve also, 
shivering near that pale ember, a starved, 
ghostly longing for appreciation and affec¬ 
tion. To this attenuated specter, perhaps a 
crumb is not thrown once a year; but when 
aliungered and athirst to famine, when all 
humanity lias forgotten the dying tenant of 
a decaying house—divine mercy remembers 
the mourner, and a shower of manna falls for 
lips that earthly nutriment, is to pass no more. 
Biblical promises, heard first in health, hut 
then unheeded, come whispering to the couch 
of sickness; it is said that a pitying God 
watches what all mankind have forsaken; 
the tender compassion ol Jesus is felt and 
relied on ; and the fading eye, gazing beyond 
time, sees a home, a friend, a refuge in 
eternity.” 
- +++ - 
Some Advice. —Never marry a man till 
you have seen him eat. Let the candidate 
for your hand pass through the ordeal of 
eating soft boiled eggs. If he can do it and 
leave his table-spread, the napkin and his 
shirt unspotted, take him. Try next with a 
spare-rib. If he accomplishes this feat with¬ 
out putting out one of his own eyes, or pitch¬ 
ing the bones into your lap, name the wedding 
day at once, he will do to tie to. 
Makes ;tnb Manners. 
d>p 
FALL FASHIONS. 
HonuctM. 
Bonnets will be worn deeper behind, but 
quite high and puffed, with standing revert 
of silk, velvet, or satin, both hack and front. 
The style is becoming only to dignified 
faces, and round hats arc preferred by most 
ladies under thirty. Plumes arc the princi¬ 
pal trimming, and shaded flowers will be 
seen instead of the many different colore 
worn in one group so long. Several shades 
of one color will be used in making one bon¬ 
net with beautiful effect, which almost dis¬ 
penses with other trimming. Stand-up 
plea tings, pipings and shell ruches of gros- 
grain will form the facing of velvet bonnets. 
Bonnets of puffed gros-grain, with velvet 
twists and pipings may be worn instead of 
velvet. Straw trimmed and faced with vel¬ 
vet can be worn very late in the fall. 
The shape of all bonnets is high, with the 
trimmiug raised at tho back. The material, 
whether of silk or velvet, is arranged in 
double or triple puffs, the flowers iu front, 
peeping over the high standing revere, and 
the pliuucs clustering over the back. Long 
black lace veils will be worn at the back of 
the bonnet, as they were in old times, when 
our mothers were young ladies, and the flow¬ 
ing veil was a coquettish part of every lady’s 
costume, and its loopings and adjustment 
were a study of feminine art. It is now left 
falling at the back, and tho end brought 
gracefully round to shade the face as occa¬ 
sion requires. 
Both flowers and leathers are seen on the 
same hat. The old rule that such mixture 
was not in good taste, is quite out of sight. 
Still, I think any lady who lias any idea of 
artistic unity will not arrange such incon¬ 
gruous materials together. Velvet bows, 
laces and feathers will certainly prove suffi¬ 
cient. vanity on any bonnet. 
The head of the wholesale importing 
liouso who gave the information in this arti¬ 
cle, told mo that, later iu the season flowers 
would undoubtedly be used more than they 
are at present. Just now plumes and lacos 
cover Hit* bonnets, but the elegant velvet 
poppies and roses, with wreaths ofholly and 
elderberries which surround them, will bo 
appreciated by Christmas-time, when tho 
glow of flowers enlivens the costume for 
snowy streets. Puilti* QnnjKBT in die 
Galaxy last spring had some well timed criti¬ 
cism on the propriety of wearing artificial 
flowers at a season when they do not natu¬ 
rally exist. Tn summer and spring this dis¬ 
tinction may be very just, but iu winter I 
plead for the warm Luxembourg roses that 
look as if they had just been cut from luxuri¬ 
ant plants in the hot-house, for exotics— 
camellias and cactus,—anti all the gorgeous 
blooms that can be counterfeited by miiii- 
ncr’s fingers. If the rule should be carried 
out of allowing no decorations lint such as 
belong to the season, we must give up all 
graceful tracery on wall paper and figures 
on dresses which imitate flowers and vines. 
Delicate sprays of spring flowers would 
scarcely agree with the chilly scenes of win¬ 
ter, but there is no reason in the laws of taste 
why w r c should give up wearing roses in 
winter. 
Tho long ostrich plumes are worn again, 
but the tips are quite as much in fashion, 
and are more graceful than any of the manu¬ 
factured long plumes. A natural plume 
Gosts about twenty dollars ; the long feathers 
commonly sold are made by piecing and 
splitting short ones, and are not durable, 
By all means avoid wearing white plumes. 
They are too conspicuous to be iu good 
taste, except on a white evening bonnet or a 
child's hat. Maroon plumes, gray, shaded 
green feathers, and capucine will be worn 
more than any other colors. Blue plumes 
are apt to fade, and a gray or black one is 
best for a blue hat. Fancy plumes of mar¬ 
about and pearl, where the feathery tufts 
seem to issue from the cups of flowers, are 
graceful for evening or bridal hats. Various 
fancy feathers for round hats are seen. Four 
curled tips with an aigrette and tiny bird’s 
wing, form a handsome trimming for the 
high English hats. The game plumes will 
be worn only in the fall. 
Among the most expensive novelties are 
tho feather hats, whose crown is covered 
with a pheasant’s or grebe’s breast, with the 
head of the bird erect in front for a crest, 
and the rim bound with seal fur. Such a 
hat sells for twenty-one dollars, but Is neither 
pretty nor agreeable looking in any w ay— 
rather clumsy in fact. The low hats of seal 
skin are most elegant and distingue at pres¬ 
ent, and cost from six to twenty-three dol¬ 
lars. These are admirable for country wear, 
and will last a life-time. 
In ribbons the choice of colors is large. 
Both very light and dark shades will be 
worn. A soft heavy ribbon of gros-grain, 
three inches wide, is most used. Narrow 
ones have quite gone out. And the bridles , 
or brides as the proper terra is, will disap¬ 
pear this season. The long ribbon strings, 
tied in a bow under the chin, are resumed. 
Many barbes and frills of lace, drooping 
about the face, will be worn ou dress bon¬ 
nets. Lacc, indeed, will be used in quantities 
as barbes, bows and quillings. The long 
veils will be made of real tulle, with a me¬ 
dium dot-edged with a separate border of 
thread lace. This tulle is ninety cents a 
yard, but narrow thread edgings vary from 
seventy-five cents to three dollars a yard. 
Velvet flowers of large size will be suffi¬ 
cient garniture for bonnets, without other 
trimming save the laces about the face. 
Fancy a great, blue velvet aster, as large as 
the palm of a lady’s hand, from which 
droops a wreath of ground cedar in che¬ 
nille. This is for a hat of blue-black velvet, 
with folds and facings of a deep mazarine 
shade, piped w ith satin, nearly the shade of 
the flower, “ loading up,” as artists say, to 
its lingo. Roses and pansies will be the 
fashionable flowers. The large, loose-leaved 
crimson rose is the kind used. Pansies are 
of all sizes, from the Imperial variety, with 
purple and gold leaves, to the tiny heart’s- 
ease. A beautiful bonnet is triple puffs of 
deep violet velvet, with revere covered with 
White gros-grain and black lace, surmounted 
by bands of hcart’s-ease, and a cluster of 
large golden pansies on one side to give 
character to the whole. 
Deep purple velvet and pink roses, soft¬ 
ened by black lace, is an elegant combina¬ 
tion, almost dazzling for blondes. Black 
velvet, hats are relieved by revere of brilliant 
green, fight, blue, mby, or rose de chine — a 
lovely rosy color approaching scarlet. The 
plumes should be dark shades of the same 
color as the revere. Tartan gros-grain pip¬ 
ings and ribbons will also be used with black 
velvets. 
Rich leaf decorations will he a specialty of 
fall trimmings. Rose foliage, blotched with 
gorgeous frost shades, holly leaves with crim¬ 
son lips, the velvet arycauthus and callinsia, 
and lichens even in silvery velvet and green 
chenille, form broad masses, designed to al¬ 
most cover the hat. 
Round hats are very high crowned, and 
trimming of velvet and plumes is heaped 
upon them. Folds crossing the crown, with 
large pleated hows, take the place of the long 
streamers, which would he very much out of 
place on the tall hats. The plumes are ar¬ 
ranged to cover the crown of tho hat. 
We will consider the dress and bonnet 
question disposed of till further advices, and 
turn our attention to housekeeping goods. 
There arc novelties in this department as well 
as any other, and very pretty ones too. 
Nnnliins anil Towel*. 
Colored linen tablecloths and napkins are 
brought from Germany to use in the fruit 
season. Green, maroon, maize color and 
blue cloths are damasked with* white figures, 
with pretty effect. They are washed only iu 
cold water to preserve the colors. The 
quality is very good, and the cost of uapkins 
and cloth together is seven dollars. 
There arc two sizes of napkins in common 
use for dinner and tea. The dinner napkin 
is three quarters of a yard square; the smal¬ 
ler size live-eighths. A fine quality is five 
dollars to seven dollars a dozen. The coarse 
ones one dollar and twenty-live to three dol¬ 
lars. Better have coarse ones than none at 
all. A farmer’s family, of all persons, 
should indulge in plenty of fresh napery. 
Nobody tries to keep house now-a-days 
without a washing machine, and with that 
it is as easy to have clean napkins every clay 
as to wash a dozen once a week. Every 
day ! I mean it. Farmers necessarily know 
more about soiled hands than other workers, 
and towels and napkins ought to swarm in a 
farm house. A stringy roller towel, hung up 
twice a week, is a common allotment, 1 
know, in the country. A long one every day 
for the farm hands, I say, and let the family 
have just as many fresh ones as they can 
use. As to shirts, I never could see why 
farmers ought to content, themselves with 
changing once, or at most twice, a week, 
when men in the city, with no soiling work 
to do, must have from three to a dozen a 
week. Farming don’t pay when a man can’t 
afford to wear a decent clean shirt all the 
time. 
Toweling of all sorts heaps the counter at 
Stewart's. Huckaback is from three dol¬ 
lars to six dollars a dozen,—long, substantial 
towels. Crash from twelve cents to twenty 
cents a yard. Unbleached honey-comb 
fringed towels, very durable, are six dollars 
a dozen. Barnsley damask for fine chamber 
towels arc nine dollars a dozen. Pantry 
toweling for wiping dishes is soft, unbleach¬ 
ed, coarse linen, crossed with red or blue 
stripes. It is quite wide; twenty-five cents a 
yard. 
Turkish bath towels a yard and a halt 
long and nearly as wide, are among the lux¬ 
uries in this department, thirty dollars the 
dozen. Friction towels, never losing their 
rasping stiffness when wet, are twelve to 
fifteen dollars. Russian diaper, to go from 
harsh to soft, is thirty to fifty cents a yard. 
French damask, in patterns of diamonds and 
dots, is eighteen dollars a dozen. 
;abb;ttli K cab mg. 
OVER THE RIVER: 
Tlic Ilyina Believer's Snua. 
BY HKV. PETKH stuykeu, n. D. 
O, CATUtYme over the river so deep! 
The current Is swift and the bank very steep. 
My spirit Is weary, and lonjpt for sweet rest 
Iu the Canaan of Promise, the home of tho blest. 
O, carry me over the river *r> drear! 
Why mast l still liniror In sorrow and fear ? 
O. why should I stand in the water so cold, 
Whoa loriithig to enter tho city of Bold? 
I), carry mo over the river, dear Lord ! 
Thou knowest my weakness ; kind succor afford. 
Thy voleo can control a'tfn die wind and the tide; 
One beck of Thy hand make these billows subside. 
O, carry mo over the river!—say “ Peace,” 
And Bive to my soul a most Joyful release 
My shepherd Thou nit, I have followed Thy rod, 
And follow Thee now tUrouuh the river to Clou. 
He hears mo-dear JKStTR ! He answers my prayer; 
Ho takes me awav from this ronton of care 
I apt-inn from my fetters. I’m clasped in Ills nrm 9 , 
And subject no ImiBer to death’s rude alarms. 
Across the dark river,-no more shall I roam, 
A pilgrim and stmunor, from heaven my home. 
The veil Is uplifted, my eyes now behold 
The splendor that IlKhts up the city of gold I 
A LION IN THE WAY. 
Every person who aims at doing good 
finds obstructions lying directly across his 
path. Natural indolence is ono. Doing good 
is up Hill work. It calls for effort and self- 
denial. it sometimes demands all the energy 
a man can summon. The listless, lazy, sel¬ 
fish disposition says “ It's asking too much 
of me.” It. is easy thus to give Christian 
duly the go-by, and leave Its discharge to 
more hemic spirits. 
Another impediment is a belief that it’s 
of no use. We decide thus ere an attempt is 
made. We give the devil credit for more 
strength than is possessed by Almighty God. 
“The strong man armed’ is in our view 
capable of holding the citadel against the 
strongest party in the universe. So we sit 
down and do nothing, under a conviction 
that it’s of no use to try, By an intimidating 
unbelief we suffer the devil to have tilings all 
his own way. 
Again; we dread opposition. Knowing 
that men are not in favor of religion — that 
sometimes they are bitterly opposed-—we re¬ 
treat behind tills cowardly idea, and sit still 
in inaction. “It will do more harm than 
good,” says one. How do you know that? 
Perhaps you arc mistaken. The enemy of 
all good may have sent. Ibis lion across your 
path to frighten you hack from duty. Go 
forward and see if the lion isn’t, muzzled, i 
Another barrier to Christian usefulness is 
the belief that wc are not adapted to do good 
in certain directions. It may bo so. But 
how caii we know until wo have tried ? Let 
us, in God’s Strength, go to work ; and if we 
fail, the responsibility will not lie at out¬ 
door. God accomplishes some of IIis mighti¬ 
est works by the weakest, instruments, 
-♦-*--*- 
SABBATH PIETY. 
Here is a bit of spicy suggestion from 
some anonymous source :—" There is a mys¬ 
tery about this effect of the weather on 
piety. Sabbath heat seems hotter, Sabbath 
cold seems colder, and Sabbath vain wetter 
than that of any other day. For the same 
measure of heat or cold or rain on a week¬ 
day will not keep one from his usual busi¬ 
ness. Wc need a Sabbath Almanac, circu¬ 
lated for our churches, that will show by its 
weather scale when it will 1)0 safe for a 
vigorous Christian, a weak and sickly Chris¬ 
tian, and a common Christian to expose 
himself on tho Sabbath by going to the 
house of God. Such an Almanac would en¬ 
able pastors and superintendents of Sabbath 
schools to know whom they could depend 
on in church, Sabbath school and prayer 
meeting. 1 have recently been examining 
microscopic views of the different snow 
flakes, a hundred or so of them. 1 would 
suggest to our curious savans an examina¬ 
tion of Sabbath snow, to see if it has a pe¬ 
culiarly sharp and injurious crystal.” 
-♦♦♦- 
ANGER. 
There is a noble and an ignoble anger. 
There are moments and situations in life 
-ftken one requires a burst of anger to bo 
able to grapple powerfully and lend justice a 
strong helping hand. But such moments 
come seldom; and the danger of falling, in 
the annoyances and little vexations of every¬ 
day life, from a noble to an ignoble anger is 
so great, that we ought to do all we can to 
govern and conquer this emotion and its 
eruptions. When our Saviour, in noble wrath, 
thundered his anathema against the hypo¬ 
critical Pharisees, He knew wlntt He did. 
But we, weak, narrow-minded beings, often 
know not what we are doing when our feel¬ 
ings are agitated. A noble, high-minded 
character ought therefore not to quell any 
of the feelings which the Creator has inter¬ 
woven with his nature; but he ought so to 
rule and direct them that, like the waves in 
a river, they fertilize its banks without inun¬ 
dating them.— Bremer. 
