tallies’ fWl-JUli 
THE HOSE AND THE CLOD. 
Wait, wait, little Rose; 
Back, back, little toes. 
Nor cross till the coal-curt is yonder.” 
I saw the mutt stare 
At her loose iiolden hair; 
Does she seem like an atiRel, 1 wonder? 
Her robe white as snow, 
Her locks all il-blow, 
Her wee, fairy feet in a quiver; 
Her eyes, great and gray, 
Booking out far away— 
Far away toward the shadowed forever. 
His face, black and grim, 
His eyes blear and dim, 
Turn sadly and slowly, as saying: 
“ And, chihi, you and I 
Come never a-nlgh. 
Through all the world's avenues straying. 
“ You live like a rose, 
Wear holiday clothes, 
And softly on down lie a-sleeping; 
I—am bat a part 
Of a coal heaver’s cart, 
Scarce paying the world for my keeping,” 
The carman went hy - 
Little Rosa and I 
Went laughing across, I remember. 
Ah me! never more 
Came the. little feet o’er, 
For a Rose bloomed above In November. 
Then through my shut eyes 
1 saw yonder skies, 
Its gates open inward to glory; 
Us ramparts of light, 
Its warders In white. 
Its banners that bore the Old Story. 
And, lo ! us 1 gazed 
At the vision, amazed, 
Two souls passed the pearl of the portal, 
On earth severed wide, 
Up there, side by side, 
The Rohc and the Clod were immortal. 
WOMAN'S RIGHTS IN PINAFORES. 
Verily, what strides Reform is making! 
How the much agitated Woman Question is 
winning disciples! Will even the most ob¬ 
stinate opposers thereof he able lo persist in 
their opposition much longer? 
Woman Suffrage must bo a foregone con¬ 
clusion. John Stuart Mill’s occupation 
is gone; so is llu.t of good Mrs. Stanton 
and George Francis Train, and a whole 
host of those zealous reformers who have 
been astonishing us with the cogency of their 
arguments in behalf of the diviner part of 
mankind. Even our own individual oppor¬ 
tunity for doing splendid service in a glori¬ 
ous cause is utterly lost to us. Here Ave 
have been pondering long over our duty to 
the public in this matter of woman’s condi¬ 
tion, and just as we were on the point of de¬ 
ciding Unit we must turn special advocate for 
woman, and employ all our eloquence in 
pleading for her, the necessity for such a de¬ 
cision is done away with entirely. It's really 
too bad. 
It all comes of Ohio’s rearing such smart 
girls. Here in New York we have some 
uncommonly bright babies; but they cannot 
equal those which the West boasts. Per¬ 
haps we keep them back. May la: they don’t 
have a fair chance in the world. Probably 
we smother their genius in long aprons, and 
are responsible for repressing what society 
at large greatly needs, in Ohio they do 
differently, and lo! what wisdom, what pro¬ 
found political and social sagacity, what en¬ 
larged comprehension of tiie wants of a race 
are the astonishing results! 
Cincinnati papers of late dale tell the 
story. In Pike's Music Hall of that city, on 
a momentous evening, two little misses, aged 
respectively fourteen and seventeen years, 
fully exhausted the Woman Question and 
(we hope) disposed of it forever. The elder 
opened the argument, and because of her 
three years’ added experience, we suppose, 
took the .wrong skin of it. She believed 
woman’s true place in the economy of things 
was as wife and mother, — a very natural 
belief, indeed, for “sweet seventeen" to 
hold, but all wrong, of course. 
With her childish insight into truth uu- 
dimmod by length of life, the younger de¬ 
clared for the ballot-box, and indignantly 
asked if the intelligent women of the 
country were to be governed by corrupt and 
wicked men without uttering their vehe¬ 
ment protest. Strongly emphasizing her 
feminine No ! she proceeded in a thrilling 
strain of impassioned eloquence to set aside 
all the flimsy arguments against Woman 
Suffrage, and to show to all doubters that 
woman must, of necessity, bo henceforth a 
co-equal ruler with man. It mattered not 
that shegot short of words once, and stamped 
We confess we would prefer to see the little 
ones put tenderly to hod by their mothers, 
than to see them upon the rostrum making 
reformatory speeches, and ignoring their 
cradles completely. But we shall get used to 
the new state of things iu time, doubtless, 
though we may at times recall the old 
couplet,— 
“ You'd scarce expect one of my age 
To speak iu public on the stage,” 
and sigh that it is never to he heard asain. 
And when the little girls are all lost to us, 
perhaps we shall more properly appreciate 
the big ones. 
-♦♦♦- 
THE FLOWER-GIRL OF PARIS. 
The most, beautiful and bewitching crea¬ 
ture in Paris is a young flower-girl of the 
Boulevard dcs Italians. She is seventeen 
years old, a native of Aries, and has the char¬ 
acteristic antique beauty which distinguished 
the women of that ancient Greek colony. 
She is said to realize the painter’s bedv ideal 
of female beauty and grace. The most cele¬ 
brated portrait painters of the French capital 
have offered to paint her, but all their offers, 
as well as t he loss honorable ones of wealthy 
and dissipated young Parisians, who willing¬ 
ly pay one, two, and even five Napoleons for 
a little bouquet, which has been touched 
by her snowy hands, have been scornfully 
rejected. The girl is as virtuous as she is 
beautiful. 
The money which the sale of her tasty 
little bouquets yields her every day, is de¬ 
voted to the payment of the creditors of her 
poor, hi hid father, who was formerly a 
wealthy merchant, hut failed several years 
ago. “La Belle Cerise" — this name has 
been bestowed on her by the “elegants” of 
Paris, owing to the beautiful, cherry - like 
freshness of her lips—is either a pearl of vir¬ 
tue and innocence, or she is very shrewdly 
speculating on these apparent qualities. At 
this moment she is the great Boulevard at¬ 
traction and sensation among the fastidious 
young men of Paris, who vie with each other 
to carry off such a prize. It. is quite proba¬ 
ble that ‘‘La Belle Cerise” will win the af¬ 
fection of one of her many noble and wealthy 
admirers, who will marry her, and that the 
poor flower-girl of the Boulevards w ill soon 
lie a Countess or Marquise. 
itntr 
aimers. 
CLOAKS AND TRIMMINGS. 
An Extravagant Chanter. 
BY MENTAVOOD. 
CURRENT GOSSIP. 
We are told that Miss Middy Morgan, 
reporter of cattle markets for the New York 
Times, is the daughter of a fine old Irish 
gentleman of the fox hunting school. While 
lie lived his daughter shared his passion for 
field sports, in which she three times re¬ 
ceived falls which broke hones. Her neck 
was not dislocated on either occasion, we be¬ 
lieve, or if it was site recovered speedily 
under the careful treatment of the tradition¬ 
al skillful surgeon. At her father’s death Miss 
Morgan went to Italy, made Rome tvild 
with admiration al. her noble horsemanship, 
attracted the attention of the Prince Bonin 
towski, was introduced to Victor Emanuel, 
and was commissioned to buy horses for the 
royal stables. Then she came to America, 
with diplomatic credentials to Mr. Bigelow, 
who immediately appointed her Inspector- 
General of the cattle market, as hereinbefore 
mentioned. She is tall, a superior woman, 
and speaks several languages with an accent 
which, the New York Mail says, “ suggests 
the land of her birth." 
A young Philadelphian, who lias been in 
Paris, dining witli Rosa Boniieur, thus gos¬ 
sips about her:—“ She has the Frenchman’s 
way of placing her index finger along the full 
length of her nose, which 1 never before saw 
a woman do; and she parts her hair on the 
side, like, a man, letting It fall on her fore¬ 
head. It is entirely gray, except w here it is 
snow white. Indeed, the lady looks older 
than her mother. She talks energetically, 
clearly and rather didactically, but is ex¬ 
tremely pleasant. Harry showed her his 
pistol, and she said, ‘ Oh, yes, I know, I carry 
one just like it,’ and she pulled it out of her 
pocket to show it to us. As it was loaded, 
it frightened the family considerably to see 
her manoL’itvcr it in her off-hand way. After 
dinner she smoked her cigar like the other 
gentlemen of the party.” 
Miss Emma Wkhb, the young woman who 
is lecturing against Female Suffrage, is de¬ 
scribed as “of fascinating presence,rather 
more than the average height, possessing a 
charming oval face, full of intelligence; a 
her little foot all in vain for the space of half pair of bright, black eyes, from which dart 
a minute in endeavoring to recall them. She 
had settled the matter at the outset, with the 
weight and force of her experience and prop¬ 
ositions, and it only remained to round off 
her address with a few polished periods to 
complete the effect. 
We pity Mrs, Stanton; we are especially 
sorry for Miss Anthony. There is no fur¬ 
ther need of The Revolution; the paper lias 
fought bravely, but it may now rest in 
peace. No more Issues of if are demanded. 
When those hi pinafores ancl short dresses 
come out as proselytes to suffrage and all its 
concomitants the mission of the Press is 
ended. We are a trifle okl-fogyisli, we fear. 
glances full of lire and meaning; and beauti¬ 
ful hair, arranged in the most wonderful 
of top-knots, with long, streaming locks 
behind.” 
Woman’s Temper. —The happiness and 
influence of women, both as wives and 
mothers, and indeed in every relation, so 
much depends on their temper that it ought 
to he most carefully cultivated. We should 
not suffer girls to imagine that they can 
balance ill humor by some good quality or 
accomplishment; because in fact there are 
none which can supply the want of good 
temper in the female sex. 
Is there a woman on earth who does not t£) 
like the sight of a velvet cloak, a velvet n 
dress, or a velvet bonnet? She is no true - r 
woman if shu does not A man who doesn’t s( 
love a fine horse, lacks something essential 
to hi9 manhood, as a woman to her woman¬ 
hood who fails to have, at least, a secret v ' 
yearning for the touch of soft laces about her 
throat and wrists, and the royal luster of a I 1 
velvet robe about her shoulders. 
it 
“ Oh what, extravagant fbl-dc-rol,” 1 hear 
an army of men say, with a clutch at their v 
purses. “ Velvets and laces, indeed! Such s 
notions have been ihe ruin of thousands of v 
families. It is to be hoped that the Rural 11 
is not to be made the medium of dissemina v 
ting such demoralizing doctrines, engender- 1 
mg discontent, in the hearts of women who 
never can have a cloak belter than beaver in 
all their lives, and would have to sacrifice ' 
home needs to purchase a yard of your ycl- ( 
low lace!” 
Any woman who allows herself to he un- 1 
happy because she cannot gratify her taste 
in dress, has a poor philosophy; and any " 
one who dresses better than she can afford, 
is equally unwise. But these do not affect - 
her natural love of beautiful and elegant per¬ 
sonal garniture. But some there are who 3 
can gratify this desire, and for such we now 1 
write. 
In purchasing velvet there is much to be ‘ 
considered. And as those of our renders who 1 
are to he profited by information, buy a vcl- ' 
vet cloak under the distressing pressure of 
making it last a lifetime, and who never ex¬ 
pect “ to have another," the style of the gar- : 
inent is a momentous question. 
Quality* 
The velvets mostly in market are of French 1 
and German manufacture. German velvet 
is usually a mixture of silk and cotton, and 
often so adroitly mixed as to deceive an ex- 1 
pericnced observer. After two or three 
years’ wear, however, it becomes rusty and 
faded, and has a significantly “ shoddy” ap¬ 
pearance. It, is considerably used in milli¬ 
nery goods. It costs from nine to twelve 
dollars per yard. 
Lyons velvet (French) is pure silk, and 
considered the best iu the market. It comes 
in various widths, at different prices. That 
twenty-eight inches in width is from thirteen 
to nineteen dollars f>er yard; thirty-two 
inches, from fourteen to twenty-two dollars; 
thirty-six inches, from twenty-three to twen¬ 
ty-six dollars; fifty four inches wide, forty 
dollars; seventy inches, sixty dollars. 
I'ile. 
Fine, close, short, pile is the best. Long 
pile becomes crushed, so that leaning against 
a chair hack, or pew, leaves the mark of the 
pressure. Fold the velvet straight, or diag¬ 
onally, and you can observe the excellence 
of the pile. To raise pile on velvet, put a 
wet cloth on the bottom of a moderately 
warm-flat, iron and hold it under the plain 
surface of the velvet. The vapor arising 
from the wet cloth will raise the pile, assisted 
by a rush-whisk, or brush, or by giving the 
velvet a quick shake. 
Color. 
A cross between the jet black and blue 
black is preferable. Black soonest becomes 
rusty and shows lint and dust more readily. 
The decidedly blue black has a cheaper 
appearance, while the medium wins in luster 
and beauty. 
Shape* 
For elderly ladies the circular seems most 
fitting, allhough they share most youthful 
styles of sacque and basque. For a circular, 
the thirty-two inch width is used, and from 
three and a half to four yards are required. 
For sacques, and basquines, twenty-eight 
inch will do, and for basquines with fullness 
’ below the waist, thirty-two inches if required. 
| For a shortsueque, three yards will do. Four 
and a half yards of twenty-eight inch width 
will cut a loose fitting basquine forty-one 
inches long at the back. The length of the 
' garment should correspond with the tallness 
of the wearer. The bottom of the wrap 
reaching midway the length of the dress 
1 skirt, is a good length. For a tall figure, 
1 flowing sleeves, or sleeves simulated, by flaps, 
: are becoming. Over-fullness, or plaiting of 
velvet, gives a sense of foolish extravagance, 
1 as does much 
j Triiniitiiuc. 
Gimps, satin, bugle and lace are used for 
garniture. Bugle trimming is objectionable 
l on velvet, as it dents and wears off the pile 
l it comes in contact with. Satin piping is 
) neat, if neatly made. Gimp forms a head- 
1, ing for lace, which should never be of an in- 
l ferior quality. Guipure trims elegantly, and 
l that suitable in width costs from two to five 
r dollars per yard. For a circular, a lace 
i barbe at the center of the back looks well. 
1 For a basque, lace running over the tops of 
the sleeve and down the back, form-shape, 
with an ornament at the bottom of the 
waist, is becoming for many figures. Lace 
around the wrist and ornaments down the 
front, to the waist, form trimming enough. 
Most of the ready make cloaks are too 
much trimmed, yards and yards of luce 
being put ou in rutiles about the shoulders 
and sleeves. Of course such cloaks com¬ 
mand twice as great a price, and are not so 
tasteful as simpler ones, for velvet does not 
need much trimming. To fasten the cloak 
in front, work four or five button holes in a 
strong piece of silk and sew it ou the 
Lining, 
which is of T.uatraUne silk, costing from a 
dollar and a quarter to a dollar and a halt 
per yard. A yard more of silk than velvet 
will lie required. This silk is somewhat j 
“ slazy ” looking, but wears well and looks 
well lor lining. Two thicknesses of wadding 
Should ho used about the shoulders and 
waist, and below (lie hips. Close quilling is 
not desirable, as the lining will not fit so 
well. Iii cutting the lining, allowance should 
he made for what the quilling takes up. In 
buying wadding, smell of it. Some wadding 
has a strong small, which it almost never 
loses. Do not select the “ sticky” kind, and 
don’t try quilting it by baud. The cloak 
should he fitted over the wadded lining. Put 
pockets on the lining. 
By purchasing your own material, and 
studying “ economy,” you may obtain as 
handsome a cloak for otic hundred dollars as 
your merchant will give you, ready made, 
for two hundred, while from the pieces left 
you will have enough to make your winter 
hat. If you cut the velvet, yourself, remem¬ 
ber that it has a nap similar to broadcloth, 
and must he cut one way ou the cloth. Vel¬ 
vet should never be rolled or folded snugly. 
Compression crushes the pile. 
Dill-ill. 
Plush in colors is much used for basquines 
and trimmings, and varies in price. L wenty 
inch widths, four dollars ; twenty-five inch, 
five dollars; twenty-eight inch, six to seven 
dollars. 
Beaver Ulotli 
is always substantial, and an excellent article 
may be had for six dollars per yard. One 
and a half to three-quarters yards is required. 
They hardly need to be lined. A basquine, 
with rolling collar, and cuffs faced willt silk 
quilted in narrow lines, and buttoning in 
front with three buttons, is sung and neat. 
The popularity of suits dispenses largely 
with cloaks. And in the matter of suits 
great care must be observed in selecting 
trimmings. A lady making two suits, one 
of green velour «to be trimmed with green 
plush, the other lueifer (garnet) odours to be 
trimmed with satin of the same shade, spent 
nearly a whole day here In matching the 
Colors. She carried a small sample of each 
with her, and matched the colors satisfac¬ 
torily, as she believed. Upon arriving home 
and laying the plush on a full width of the 
green and the satin on the lueifer, it was at 
once evident that the shade of the trim¬ 
mings ill both cases detracted from, instead 
of added to, the beauty of the odours. Next 
day she cut off a skirt, breadth of each and 
; did her work over. Two like colors of dis¬ 
similar shade produce a discordant effect, il 
^ put in conjunction. Ho, in purchasing a 
j dress of unique color, have an eye out for 
the trimming as well. If getting a cloak in 
color, select that which can bo harmoniously 
worn with the rest of your toilette. 
THE RAGE FOR PLAIDS. 
The London Telegraph says the English 
women are going crazy over plaids. Tartan 
neck-ties, tartan brooches, tartan dresses, 
and tartan trimming light up the shop win¬ 
dows with a blaze of green, blue, red ancl 
white. The Htcwurt, the Maclean, the Far- 
quharson, the Mucplicrson, the MacNab, the 
Macdonald, the Maedonell, the Mackenzie, 
the Macgregor—“ those nigged names that 
would have made QuinLiliiau stare and 
gasp,”—have converted many yards of Pic¬ 
cadilly, Fleet street and Holborn, into pic¬ 
turesque dens of Celtic savagery. What is 
the meaning of llie invasion ? From what 
place have the tartans come? In the sim¬ 
plicity of his heart the English reader an¬ 
swers, “From Scotland, of course,” but we 
assure him that he labors under a complete 
mistake. Not from Scotland, but from 
France; not from the “ capital of the High¬ 
lands,” which is the fine name for Inverness, 
but from the center of fashion, which is the 
shop name for Paris, have all the clans 
poured into London. 
-- 
Wearing White. —The prettiest fashion 
we have had for many a day is the univers¬ 
ally popular and the universally becoming 
fashion of wearing white, and it will be car¬ 
ried into the fall and winter as far as practi¬ 
cable. White cloth cloaks and white plush 
sacks will enliven our promenades, while 
white jackets and basques will given July 
aspect to the frostiest day in January. 
-♦-*--*-— 
Over all ball-room doors should be in¬ 
scribed, “ Look out for the train.” 
^a bbatl) ,11 cab mg. 
LOOKING TO THE CROSS. 
BV ANN'IK HERBERT. 
Weak, aiul weary, anil alone, 
While the night winds soli anil moan, 
Low 1 bond before the shrine 
Of the Sinless and Divine; 
Friend of friends! to Thee 1 call, 
For Thou givest grace to ull! 
I am wandering like n child 
Lost In forest, mazes wild; 
Tangled tire the paths I trend. 
Dim the stars shine Overhead, 
While my weary foot must press 
Through the thorny WiJdoruo***. 
And they gave this bitter cup 
Who had smiled and held me up; 
Wounded even by friendship's hand. 
Faithless In nn alien land, 
All tuy help is gone from me! 
All my woes l bring to Thee! 
O, Thou pitiful and kind! 
Touch my eyes that are so blind. 
Lest 1 lay my burdens down. 
Lest 1 yield thu victor’s crown, 
For one moment to be blest 
With the charm of quiet rest! 
Now Thy life unveiled I see. 
In its solemn mystery ; 
All Thy wenrlnoss and pain. 
Journeying by land and main, 
While Judea's burning sun 
Paused not for the Holy One: 
Paused not till that fearful hour 
Of temptation's utmost power, 
When the crimson drops fell l'reo 
In thy vale, Gethsemano 1 
And n kiss was given lor gulu, 
And the I’rluceof Puaco was slain. 
Loud! how trilling seems my loss, 
Brought before Thy sacred Cross ! 
Grieved 1 weep for blossoms dead, 
And will not he comforted ; 
Thou hast borne the throes and tears 
Wrung from earth's unnumbered years 1 
Suffering Saviour ! make me calm. 
Through the minor of life’s psalm! 
Let my heart be turned to prayer, 
Aiul in pity help me hear 
Burdens that sometime may be 
Wings to bear me up to Tlieo. 
GOD’S SPECIAL PROVIDENCE. 
* BY EDITH MELBOURNE. 
When a great sorrow befalls us, we are 
apt to say it is a dispensation of divine 
Providence, but the little, every-day trials of 
life, we are wont to regard as the result, of 
ill luck, and our prosperity we are equal!}' 
ready to attribute to good luck. Thus we 
see God only in the calamities of lilt*, forget¬ 
ting that He who created tempests also made 
the sweet sunlight, as well as the minutest 
insect which revels in it. And so wc come 
to speak of God’s special providence, mani¬ 
fest in life’s weightier events, while the rest 
we consider only the result of a general 
supervision, which takes in the whole, but 
regards nothing in detail. 
This is incorrect. He who “clothes the 
grass of the field,” exercises over all His 
works a special care and providence. And 
what does providence mean? It is derived 
from pro and video; video meaning to see, 
•pro, before; hence the word means a foresee¬ 
ing of something. W'e foresee coining wants, 
and, if Avi.se, we endeavor to meet those wants 
with something to supply them ; and so the 
term meaning to foresee, and that meaning 
to supply a coming want, have become 
synonymous, and are expressed by the word 
provide. 
Can there be with God any special act of 
foresight? Does He not foresee all things, 
even knowing the end from the beginning? 
If so, is He less provident than man ? It can¬ 
not be. lie knows the wants of all 1 lis crea¬ 
tures, and He is not a God who cares only 
for their greater necessities, leaving chance 
to provide for the rest. But, having created 
us free moral beings, and foreknowing what 
will bo our course in every circumstance, for 
His children lie orders sueli only as shall 
work their highest good. He bestows on 
them such blessings as they are able to bear, 
and He xvitholds only what may do them 
harm. 
Oh, weak, distrustful, human nature! why 
will ye not believe that “ all things work 
together for good to them that love God ?” 
Why will ye not recognize in every event— 
whether great or small -the special provi¬ 
dence of your Heavenly Father ? And why 
will ye not ever trust Him? This d®, and 
ye shall find in God’s providences fewer of 
judgments and more of mercies. 
--♦-*-*- 
SUCCESS. 
There is nothing so abject, as the Avorship 
of mere success, unless, indeed, it be the Avor¬ 
ship of mere Avealth. There is nothing lower 
than to admire and flatter a man simply be¬ 
cause he has got on, because he has carried 
his point, because lie has come to be talked 
about in the way in Avhich he wished to be 
talked about, and to think scorn of others 
Avhose merits and efforts may have been 
equal to his, or very likely much greater, hut 
whose merits and efforts have, from some 
cause or other, not been so lucky as his in 
gaining the object at which they aimed. 
