l ion for greatness. One day the poet and author 
wont with his family into a meadow, where ho 
read aloud to them his last production. As he 
read, a cow in an adjoining Held came up to the 
bars, and leaning her head on the top rail, lis¬ 
tened most attentively to the two hoars’ read¬ 
ing. The next day and the next the author re¬ 
peated the reading, and with the same atten¬ 
tion from the cow. Being a little curious and 
greatly amused, he handed liis book to one of 
his sons, when the boast lifted her head and 
walked disdainfully away. 
onetime, was tho infatuated amt of that won¬ 
derful genius, Madame (1 HOBOS Sand. One 
day, when making a promenade, MiinUingdoep- 
ly of life or searching for a rhyme, he dropped 
his glove, which was picked up and restored to 
him by a gentleman who chanced tube passing. 
The poet took It In his hand without lifting 
Ids eyes, and without making any manifesta¬ 
tion whatever. The gentleman, who was not 
accustomed to he treated like a domestic, de¬ 
termined to give him a reproof not knowing 
who. he was nnd following him cried out: 
“ Say, countryman,ain't you going to give a 
fellow something to drink?” This roused 
MUSHUT from Ids revery, ami remembering 
\ Ids obligation, discharged hls civilities, and 
asked (lie man to give him his address. 
r l lie next day t he gentleman received from 
the poet a, poem, which to this day ho 
guards with (lie greatest, fidelity and jeal- 
ouh.v, declaring that if if is ever published 
it shall lie. only after ho is (lead. 
Dancing School for Children. 
1 wonder if peopl 
OUR EUROPEAN LETTER 
Paris, Feb. 6,1873. 
French Filth. 
There is one thing I can never get over—the 
filthiness of the ordinary French house. Many 
of the houses and hotels most frequented by 
Americans are kept tolerably neat, for the 
sake of retaining their guests; but if an 
American, like myself, seeks a purely 
French house, where French alone is spnk- ,j 
en, he or she must prepare for dirt. Some 
time ago, while looking for such a hotel, a 
really distinguished French lady — whose 
own house is a marvel of neatness—gave me 
the address of a hotel frequented by au¬ 
thors, artists, National Deputies, and people 
of that class. I went there, and felt that 
half the value of France could not induce 
me to make it my home. OneOf the “betes 
noir” of the part icular untidiness is the bed 
linen. In one of the. French houses I have 
been in, after a fortnight's sojourn, I asked 
the domestic t.o dressmybed in clean linen. I 
“Ah, but," she exclaimed, “we don't change 
the beds here but once a month!" How¬ 
ever, I told her to go to the “ madamo" and 
say I requirod it—and I got it. Tint one of 
my friends, who spoilt some months in 
of the best girls' school in Paris, was less 
successful. After she had slept In her bed 
linen for a month, she threw it. on the floor 
and demanded clean linen. “ Tes,” sooth¬ 
ingly replied the servant; but when she re- If 
turned to her room at night, she found the If 
same dirty sheets, and as orton as she re- iff! 
peated tho operation, just so often she found 
that her efforts had been fruitless, so that fi 
at the end of three months she had the if 
same bed linen as at the beginning. Such fiL 
was the rule. The exceptions were formed §| 
by such English or American girls as revolt- nfl 
_ b who disapprove of 
dancing ever realize how much hard work 
| and true conscientiousness cuter both Into 
the work of a professional dancer and a 
I j dancing teacher? I spent an hour or two, 
the other day, in a dancing school lbr chil¬ 
dren. The mistress, a relative of MlCH- 
Ki-ET, the well known French writer, and 
, herself a woman of talent, has for her pupils 
tho children and adults of some of the best. 
I families of ail countries who find Ihcm- 
i solves at Paris. Among those present, were 
I, the four children of tho Duke of Newcastle 
I I of England—aa dissipated and depraved n 
| fellow as lives, perhaps. But tho children 
[Iffi ;,r e beautiful, ranging in age, from Lady 
I Florence of three years, who dance.> like 
II il sylph, to the oldest, a. girl of thirteen years 
IJllI perhaps, with brown eyes, long, full, brown 
1 t!Ur,MIU, d rosy cheeks; the son. a boy of nino 
1 years perhaps, w ho Is called " Lord Byron," 
j| has a protty face, but expresses not oven 
H ordinary Intelligence. Ho will imdoubt- 
I j odly develop Into a man who, horn force of 
oirouinstances, will bo well educated and 
well bred, but dreadfully uninteresting. 
II They were very prettily dressed. The older 
l| girls wore dresses of very dark-blue poplin, 
the skirt entirely plain, and the polonuiso 
piped with light blue; rash of the same 
color as the dress; hair, loose and flowing, 
and caught back with a light blue ribbon; 
large sailor collars in embroidered linen; 
dark-blue stockings. Lord Byron wore a 
sailor suit of brown velvet, a large linen 
collar and a cravat and stockings of mauve. 
Little Lady Florence, a brunette, wore u 
dark-bine costume, the skirt laid in kilt 
ifj plaits, and a .jacket. like a boy’s; a scarlet 
Ip sash knotted at one side, and hair tied 
back with a scarlet ribbon. 
B 
The Spring Fashions 
r - 
pijl are upon the I’nrisicniies, and differ very lit- 
S=ij tie from those of a year ago. The ruffled pet¬ 
ticoat and draped polonaise continue to be 
equally popular. For a wrap, a mantle or 
cape lias quite superseded the basque or jacket. 
Wool delaines are soft and delicate for spring 
costumes, but like all other fabrics, should be 
chosen in very dark shades and trimmed with 
the same, or with silk or velvet in the same 
color. There arc iu tlm small things of the 
toilet many pri l l v novelties. The latest taste 
in handkerchiefs for gentlemen have borders 
in one or two colors with tho monogram em¬ 
broidered in the same colors; white handker¬ 
chiefs, with the owner's autograph wrought in 
black or red cotton. The autograph is placed 
upon tlm corner of Mm handkerchief, written 
in a free, natural style; one takes a pin and 
pricks the outline upon the linen through the 
paper; by this ineuna tho impression is obtained 
Tor the embroidery. 
in ladies' collars, tho upright shape takes 
precedence for ordinary wear; ruffles, ruches 
and linen laid in kilt plaits for ruches, and to 
form the frill for undersleeve*, is very pretty. 
For dinner or dress occasions, t he collar or col¬ 
larette is made of lacc and silk or satin, and 
often covers quite the entire front of the dress; 
it approaches move the lichii shape than a col¬ 
lar, and often si mutates a vest front. Black satin 
is greatly worn for dresses, so that all lovers of 
this shining fabric can once again be in style. 
Street dresses clear tho ground, bout tops are 
worn less high than formerly, and very little 
false hair is worn, and all that one wears is car¬ 
ried high upon the head. 
One of the Favorite Dishes of Saiacl 
among the French is the leaf and flower bud, or 
heart., of the common dandelion ; it is dressed 
with oil and vinegar, and eaten raw. It is con¬ 
sidered very wholesome, and if ouc docs not at 
first like it, a taste for i I. may be rapidly formed, 
it is one of the connecting links between the 
eelery of the winter and tho lettuce of the 
later spring time. Mary A. E. Wager. 
FRENCH BEDSTEAD WITH QUILTED SILK COUNTERPANE 
always has worn glasses over them- his white 
hair, his serene face, and the very Incarnation 
of Integrity and firmness that he manifests, in¬ 
dividualize him wonderfully. If Republican¬ 
ism does not succeed in France, it will bo sim¬ 
ply because the people do not want It; and I 
listen In actual wonder at the various comments 
I hear every day expressed upon the futility of 
Republicanism In France and Spain. To me, 
tho dethroning of kings and the assumption of 
sovereignty by the people has a joyful signifi¬ 
cance. America, which furnishes the model 
and hope of Republicanism to all t he world, I 
only wish was somewhat nearer, so that people 
(See Page 239.1 
Anecdote of Delaroche. 
Another anecdote is told of Delarociie, the 
celebrated painter. One day, as ho wins walk¬ 
ing in the streets of Paris, looking sharply about 
him, ho saw a carriage passing, when he imme¬ 
diately cried out to the coachman"Stop! I 
beg you. I am seeking a yellow, and there it is 
OU your carriage." But as tlm coachman did 
not stop, Delar®che ran after the carriage, 
and opening the carriage door, exclaimed to 
its occupant:—" I want this yellow fora picture 
I am about to paint. Hero is a paint shop; I 
will detain you not more than live minutes, and 
if yon will have the goodness to -top your conch- 
mmasfm 
mmm 
msmsm 
WiMm: 
-V. v. 
GYPSIES IN HUNGARY 
The Empress-Queen, Maria Theresa, more 
than a century ago, made some attempts to 
bring them into the settled condition of agricul¬ 
tural peasantry, but with little success. They 
do not, however, at present confine I heir preca¬ 
rious industry to the “wriappingup of utioont-id- 
erod trifles” or the prophet ic idling of fortunes. 
Some of them grope In the sands of streams for 
particles of mineral ore, crystals, or pebbles of 
price, which they sell ti * Vienna jewellers; 
others work as smiths or linkers of Iron and cop¬ 
per utensils; some are carpenters and turners. 
Fig. 1.—Silk Counterpane, (Page 239.) 
on this side of the water would have a more 
real and distinct idea of Its excellence; ant 
alas! as the French sarcastically add, “ The op 
portunity it gives men to steal." 
A Listening Cow. 
An amusing anecdote Is now current of Vic¬ 
tor Hugo, which illustrates a cow’s apprecia- 
Fig. 3.—Silk Counterpane, (Page 339.) 
man t will send you a sketch or my picture.” 
The occupant acceded to hls request, and some 
months afterward received a sketch of one of 
Delahocuk'h most celebrated pictures—and 
nothing more I 
Anecdote of a Poet. 
Here is another of Alfred Musset, whose 
poems were the delight of France, and who, at 
