fekgg-- ,4 
<i §W 
Swgjv 
|*S|| 
EuS®jfejiil.Liii*u. ...t iiluil 
FIG. 405.—INITIALS FOR MARKING. 
elation, however, need not have prompted her, for 
while humanity as a mas9 may treat It with Indif¬ 
ference, those who have experienced maternal 
relations and others who are sensitive to the 
purifying Influence of childhood, and are filled 
with love for the dependent innocents, will enjoy 
Its sentiments and properly estimate Its value. 
The French Revolution. A History, By Thomas 
Carlyle. New York American Book Exchange 
Publishers. 
This la a reproduction or a stand\rd woTk the 
subject matter of which would require ft lengthy re¬ 
view to make it comprehensible; this we forego on 
account of limited space. The book is well gotten 
up: strongly and prettily hound. The print is 
clear—a feature above all to be commended. The 
only Inferior part Is the paper, and that Is not 
objectionably poor. Cheapness In a financial 
sense serves to recommend it to the public. 
$ar SRomra. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CLARK. 
DESCRIPTION OF CUTS. 
FIG. 398.—CROCHET LACE FOR COUNTERPANE. 
Begin In the narrowest part between each point; 
make a chain of thirty-two stitches, and one to 
turn with. 
1st. Row: One double Into each stitch. 
thing to Its owner,”and I produced the shoe. 
“ You have Its fellow there In your left hand. 
Allow me to present you with your property, Miss 
Maxted.” 
She started. “ l ? m not Miss Maxted. My name’s 
Barbara Duke. What do yon mean ?” 
BAL 
in spite of the heavy brogues which I had 
heard and now saw, 1 was fairly taken hack, for 
1 did not remember to have ever met a prettier 
girl. She was tall and shapely, and had a noble, 
a strikingly noble and handsome face, with bright 
curls rippling over a suimy brow, and large brown 
eyes full of expression. There was breeding in 
every feature A lady surely, although so quietly 
not to say shabbily, dressed. But the plain drab 
frock of dark home-spun fitted her figure per¬ 
fectly, and the pink ribbons In her hair and at her 
throat, if faded, were yet arranged with the taste 
that argued a cultured mind. 
“ Pardon, me,” I began, raising my hat. “ I 
had no Idea-” 
Then she Bpoke, and all poetry, all sentiment, 
vanished. 
" What's your wuil?” she said in the sweetest 
voice, marred by the most atrocious northern 
burr: “ Olcanna help ye, can ol ?” 
I was looking for old Duke.” 
Oncle’s out; bo’s aunt. Wbal’s your wull 7 ” 
*• now is it I have never seen you before 7 Do 
you always stay here with the Dukes?” I felt 
rather disposed to hpld her In conversation. 
•'Na; I’m only biding for a wee. O’lm soon 
ganging whoam.” She stooped, and, looking me 
full in toe face for a moment, said abruptly, •• And 
you.’d better be ganging too. You mayn’t bide 
here.” 
“ Well, perhaps you’re right; tell your uncle 
I’ll call again. I want to speak to him about 
something I picked up In the Manor Bouse last 
night—a shoe.” 
‘•I’ll tell him, A shoe, eh 7 What like 7 would 
It fit me 7” she said, sticking out a foot which 
seemed enormous In a coarsely-made heavy hob¬ 
nailed boot. 
“ Hardly, unless — 
Somehow I had my suspicions about this girl. 
Her accent did not sound quite true; l thought It 
varied. She had a ring on one finger. These 
hoots were too obviously lll-flttlng. What If they 
had been assumed as a disguise? As these 
thoughts passed rapidly through my brain I kept 
my eyes on hers, struck no less by their beauty 
than by their resemblauce to another pair I had 
seen only the night before. 
It was she who put an end to the pause by once 
more saying, “You'd better be ganging,” and 
pointing with her thumb to the door. Of course I 
could not well stay at the cottage, and I could not 
well tax her with having been a party to the an¬ 
noyance I had endured at the Manor House—not, 
at least, without more evidence than 1 had Just 
then. So I said good-bye civilly, and turned on 
my heel. 
638 
THE 
AUG. 43 
FIG. 401. 
FIG. 402. 
EW-YOBKEB, 
honest purple kid, adorned with a fresh rosette of 
crimson ribbon and lined with soft pink silk. That 
I held In my hand a clue, however, to the mystery 
of Maxted Manor, I was more and more con¬ 
vinced as I turned over and inspected my high 
heeled shoe. 
It was not 1 1ll I had carried the shoe upstairs to 
my own room and had made a second Inspection, 
that I discovered names and a number stamped 
upon the sole. The names were somewhat 
blurred but i made out at length to read them 
with the numbers 379 «63. 
The names, of course, were those of the makers, 
the number that of the customer’s last. I surely 
might ascertain from the shoemakers whether 
this customer was a denizen of this or another 
world. Full of this Idea I telegraphed to a friend 
to make the necessary Inquiry, leaving word at 
the telegraph office to send me over any message 
that might arrive. 
My road back to the Manor House led me past 
tbegardener’s cottage. As 1 passed, it oecured to 
me that T might perhaps extract something irom 
old Duke, and I paused In front of his door. As T 
did so. I oaught sight of a faoe at the window up- 
stalrs-the face of a yourg gin, as I thought—but 
the moment l looked np it disappeared. Duke 
was not In, nor was his wife seemingly, I called to 
them both, but no one replied. I was turning to 
leave the cottage, when I heard the heavy clat¬ 
tering footsteps descending tbe stair. I waited, 
and presently a young woman entered the kitchen 
parlor, and walked straight up to me. 
“i mean that I've found out the whole trick. 
You have been too hard on me. Now, of course, I 
shall leave the bouse,” 
“No, no,” she said. *■ It was only a foolish es¬ 
capade. 1 am extremely grateful to you for having 
put an end to the ghosts In the state chamber, 
and now I will go away myself, and you will he 
troubled no more." 
To make a brief conclusion to tills long tale, I 
may say at once that she did leave Maxted 
Manor that evening. I stayed on till the end of 
October. But that Winter I renewed my acquain¬ 
tance wlih her under pleasanter auspices, and the 
following Summer we returned to the Manor 
nouse In a new relatloAhlp. 
The Twin Otunin*. By Sotbie May, Boston ; 
Lee & Shepard, Publishers. 
The mere mention or the authoress’s name, 
doubtless, is sufficient to excite an interest In this 
one of her many well written and appropriate 
books for children, indeed, those of older growth 
who appreciate childish Interest, will not feel 
time wholly lost by a perusal. Flaxle Frizzle the 
heroine Is of that family of little girls that uses 
the expressive “orful." Auntie Prim in giving 
permission for a party to Flaxle and her cousin, 
gave the instructions for Invitations, adding, with 
a sigh, “And 1 shall be thankful when It Is over." 
The youthful hearer did not forget a word, but 
through all tbe rooms on tbe ground floor; I tried 
all doors and windows In them, as well as thoBe In 
tbe corridor or passage. I did the same on the 
first floor. After that I entered my bed room, set 
down the light, and went through the torm of 
locking the door. But t unlocked It in one and the 
same moment, and left the door a little ajar. Next 
I put on a pair of list Bilppers. Then I sat down 
for half an hour, to wait till my enemy was es¬ 
tablished upon the theater of her nightly opera¬ 
tions. 
About midnight, I crept stealthily out into the 
corridor. I carried no light, and it was pitch 
dark, hut by this time 1 know every Inch or my 
road. I reached the top of the staircase, passed 
down the steps Into the corridor ; on the ground 
floor, and ho towards the sitting room 1 always 
used. More than once I stopped and listened. 
The bouse was absolutely still and quiet. Stay, 
what was that ?—the rustle of a silken robe? 
No: only the sighing of the wind among the dis¬ 
tant trees. Again I stopped and listened, i fan¬ 
cied 1 heard rustling and crackling, as of papers 
opened and unfolded : hut, although I held my 
breath In my eagerness to listen. I found myself 
mistaken again. But now I was abreast of tbe 
sitting room, and once more I paused. It was 
here that all the mischief had been perpetrated, 
and this was the spot I especially desired to ob¬ 
serve. J stood In front ot the door for fifteen 
minutes, as keenly alert as a hare on Its form. 
But the stillness of the night, was unbroken. I 
could not delect, the slightest movement Inside. 
Indeed, I had all but made up my rated to enter 
tbe room and finally set all my doubts at. rest, 
when T became suddenly a ware that It was really 
occupied a ter all. 1 never quite understood how 
this coDCluelou was borne In upon me. But I 
know that 1 heard rootsteps within; more than 
once I detected a slight “hem last of all there 
was the unmistakable gTatlng of a chair as It was 
pushed across the solid oaken floor. 
My object now was to turn the door handle 
gently and peer, unobserved It possible, into the 
room. It was my only way of ascertaining 
whether anyone, and If so, what kind of person, 
was there. I might have been a professional 
burglar, I did the trick so cleverly. I got the door 
opened quite artistically. There was not a rattle or 
a creak; everything seemed to play Into my 
hands. Presently there was room for me to get 
my head through—and I looked In. 
What I saw was not unexpected, yet It startled 
me considerably. A tall female figure in white was 
seated at my easel, leaning over and painting 
busily. I was spell bound for ibe moment, and 
could neither go backward nor forward. 
How long I should have remained thus It Is Im¬ 
possible to Imagine. But after a few minutes, 
perhaps under that strange mesmeric influence 
which conveys to all of us the impression that we 
are being watched, the female raised her head 
suddenly and looked round. The face was the 
same which I had seen through the window lu the 
court—the same which 1 knew by heart by the 
portrait in tbe great hall. 
She did not give me long to observe her, how¬ 
ever. The moment our eyes met—how well I re¬ 
membered those great wild brown eyes 1—she rose 
to her feet with a startled exclamation, and 
glided rapidly away. It was a strange but not 
unearthly shout; on the contrary, it had a dis¬ 
tinctly human Intonation, and was not without a 
tinge of mockery and laughter. I rushed into 
the room and gave chase. All of the doors of the 
rooms en suite were open—had they been left so 
purooseiy 7— aDd the figure on passing through 
the first banged tt behind her. This gave her the 
advantage, and increased the distance between 
us. It was the same with the next door, and tbe 
next: still 1 was close behind her and might 
eventually have overtaken her had the j&ce been 
a little longer. But the last door was that Into 
the turret with Its winding stalrR. This she also 
hanged behind her and I distinctly heard the holts 
shot in the look, accompanied by another sound, 
that of suppressed laughter. 
She was gone. I struck a light, then tried the 
door, shook it repeatedly, but It withstood all my 
efforts. I knew that I had failed, yet I was not 
dissatisfied with my adventure. At least I had 
driven my tormentor off the field, even it she had 
left no trace behind her. 
No trace? There I was mistaken. The ghost, 
or whatever she might be, In her hurried exit had 
lost one of her shoes, and there It lay JuBt where 
she had disappeared—a pretty, dainty, artistically 
made high-heeled shoe. 
1 took it up and examined It closely by the 
candle light, it might have been the property of 
some supernatural personage, but It gave me a 
very distinct impression that It had Just fallen 
from a human foot. There was nothing shadowy 
or unsubstantial about It; It was made of good 
FIG. 400. 
Just outside the house I encountered the tele¬ 
graph hoy on a pony. He had Just trotted over 
with my answer. I tore open the yellow envelope 
and read :— 
"Haveseen shoemakers ; no difficulty. Three 
hundred and seventy-nine thousand six hundred 
and Elxty-three, number of Miss Judith Maxted’s 
last.” 
I knew It 1 It was the fair owner herself who, 
from a mischievous desire to try my courage, had 
been haunting the house. More. It was she her¬ 
self whom I had Just s°en In th? cottage. 
1 hurried back, and, without knocking, hastily 
lifted tbe latch and walked In. 
“Who’s that 7 How dare you come inhere?” 
The voice wa6 the same, but ihe accent was gone 
and I saw my young friend trying hard to conceal 
something wnlch she held in her left hand. 
“ I beg your pardon, but I came to restore aome- 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
FIG. 404. 
2nd Row: One chain to turn, one chain into 
each of sixteen successive stitches, four chain, 
pass over four stitches, one double Into each of 
four next successive stitches, four chain, pass over 
four stliches, one double Into each ot four next 
successive stliches, four chain, one to turn. 
3rd Row: Same as first row. 
4th Row: One chain to turn, one double Into 
each of twelve stliches, four chains, pass over 
four stitches,’one double Into each of four next 
stitches, four chain, pass over four stitches, one 
double into each of four next successive stitches, 
four chain, pass over four stitches, one double into 
each of tour next stitches; four chain, and one to 
turn with. * 
5th Row: Same as tblra row. 
5th Row : One chain to turn, one double Into 
each of eight next stitches. ’ four chain, pass over 
four stitches, one double Into each of four next 
Btltches; repeat from * three times more, four 
chain, and one to turn with. 
7th Row: Same as fifth row. 
sth Row: one stitch to turn, one double Into 
each of four next stitches, ’ four chain, pass over 
four stitches, one double luto each of four next 
stitches, continue this until row Is finished. 
Repeat the directions for continuing the pattern. 
FIG. 403.—DESIGN : .MORESQUE RMDKOIDERY. 
This design Is suitable for a variety of purposes; 
It may be used to ornament cravat ends, sachets, 
drape for work baskets. The outline of the pat¬ 
tern must be traced on silk and worked over with 
rather open buttonhole stitch In embroidery silk, 
leaving loops at regular Intervals. A row of 
chain-stitch la worked Inside the buttonhole 
stitch. When It Is finished tbe work Is to he cut 
away with a sharp pair of scissors. 
FIG. 400.—DESIGN FOR TRIMMING OF INFANTS 
OLOTHING. ETC,, IN EMBROIDERED BRAID OR CANVAS 
AND CROCHET. 
FIG. 398. 
FIG. 399. 
The Earl ot Mayfield, by Thomas P. May. Phil¬ 
adelphia : T. B. Peterson & Brothers. Paper Cover, 
Price 75 Cents. 
The Karl of Mayfield has achieved great, popu¬ 
larity. seven editions of the book have been ex¬ 
hausted, and the eighth, revived by the author, is 
now ready. It Is the story of a sugar planter, who 
In the course ot his journey In lire, falls In love 
with a charming woman. The plot is a marvel of 
artistic, skill, and is carefully and skillfully devel¬ 
oped. The opening scenes transpire In our own 
sunny south, and the beauties of that region are 
depicted In glowing language of rare beauty. 
From this country yie scene shifts to Italy, with 
which lovely region of Europe the writer is famil¬ 
iar, and which he appreciates with all the zest of 
an unaffected, enthusiastic lover of nature. The 
events In the closing chapters transpire In Eng¬ 
land, and aD English home la described with pe¬ 
culiar beamy. 
FIG, 403. 
repeated the unintentional addition much to the 
chagrin of the old lady. Many are the adventures 
related of waywardness; lovableness also Is 
depicted, showing child life as It really is. 
Drug* That Ensluve. The Opium. Morphine, 
Chloral and Hoauisli Ha.hits .By H H Kane, M. D.. 
Philadelphia; Presley BUklston. Price .$l.6u. 
This work la calculited to be of great benefit If 
properly appreciated, as a preventive Influence 
It will, no doubt, be most beneficial, as It Is much 
easier to abstain when free from a habit than to 
correct one already formed. A few ot the Intro¬ 
ductory words will suffice to show the importance 
of a well written exposition of tacts and needed 
revelations. “ A curse that is daily spreading, 
that Is dally rejoicing In an Increased number or 
victims, that entangles In Its hideous meshes such 
great men as Coleridge, He (iulncy, William 
Blair, Robert Hull, John Kandolph, and Wllllum 
Wllberforce, besides thousands of others whose 
vice Is upknown, should demand ol' us a Searching 
and scientific examination. Imports of opium 
Into the United states for ten fiscal years, ending 
June 30th:— 
1871, 
315,121 
lb8. 
$1,920 915 
1872, 
410 864 
H 
2,lt»7 341 
1S73, 
319.134 
il 
1,978,502 
1874, 
395 9 9 
tt 
2,640,223 
1876, 
132 641 
tt 
939 553 
1876, 
388 311 
• tt 
1,805,906 
1877, 
349 223 
tt 
1,788.347 
1878, 
43U.950 
tt 
1,874.815 
1879, 
405 957 
tt 
1.8 9 096 
1880. 
533 451 
tt 
2,786,606 
Either the compiler of the given table or the 
type setter has committed an error. According 
to the Treasury Statistical Report, the Importation 
In 1875 was 305,130 lb3; value *8,037,798. 
Motherhood. A Poem, Boston; Leo &. Shepard. 
Price, $1.50, 
The authoress has chosen to keep In obscurity In 
connection with this production. Fear of depre¬ 
404—DESIGN FOR SLEEVE. 
FIGS. 401 AND 402,—CROSS AND ITALIAN STITCH DE¬ 
SIGNS. 
These designs are suitable to be worked in the 
corners of dollys, serviettes, etc., or they may he 
repeated to form borders. 
FIG. 399.—EDGING : CROCHET AND WAVED BRAID. 
1st Row: Work a double under the braid be¬ 
tween the scallops (see design), three chain, one 
double into the point of braid, three chain, one 
douine under the braid tsee dcBlgD). Repeat from 
the beginning of the row. 
2nd Row : One treble into a point of braid, four 
nhain Repeat from the beginning of the row. 
FIG. 
