a 
675 
had had on the moors last season, and Edith 
began: 
“Do you read Wendell Holmes, Mr. Verner ? 
“ ‘ Poor gentle guest, by nature kindly cherished, 
A little world grows dark with thee In blinding 
death; 
One little gasp—thy universe hath perished-’ 
“I forget the rest, but do you ever think of 
the ‘ poor gentle’ bird when you sally forth 
to waste powder—as you say ?” 
Fearing hostilities, I interposed with a 
casual remark; but before long, Mr. Verner 
took leave of us, and I then remonstrated 
with my cousin. 
“ Don’t bother !” she said, crossly. “ It was 
as much as I could do to keep from throwing 
my teacup at him •” 
“ You misjudge him, Edith. I don’t think 
him so very faulty.” 
“Nor did I at first, but I know him well 
now. He wanted to see what you were like; 
seeing, he approves, and your pride piques 
him. Beware for constancy is unknown to 
Nevil Verner!” 
“You think me in great danger ?” I said, 
calmly. 
“I like you, cousin,” she said, quickly, look¬ 
ing at me. “Nevil is attracted by you, and 
you will be everything until-or possibly he 
is the paragon that others say, and I only rid¬ 
icule him because my own ambitious views 
have faded away.” 
I recalled all that had passed to-day, from 
my visit to Kingston to Nevil Verner’s visit 
here. Edith had made me picture Brandon 
almost a misanthrope, and she had misled me 
about Nevil, for I liked him, and looked for¬ 
ward with pleasure to the intended visit to his 
home. 
When the day appointed for it arrived, Edith 
decided to accompany us—I riding, she with 
Aunt Dorothy in the phaeton. 
On the way we passed Kingston, and I half 
hoped Brandon would appear; but save a deer 
bounding through the park, there were no signs 
of life. The drive, though long, was very 
pleasant, aunt said. 
"We were received by our host with graceful 
cordiality, though 1 thought he seemed sur¬ 
prised, and not altogether pleased, on behold¬ 
ing Edith. 
“You didn’t expect me,” she said, coolly; 
“but I must have something to do, or I should 
die.” 
Aunt gave her a warning look, which had 
not the slightest effect on the wilful young 
lady, save further rousing the spirit of mis¬ 
chief. Wes—or rather—1 was introduced to 
Mrs. Vemer, a pale, thin lady, whose beauty 
had wasted away in sickness, and whose face 
was marked with lines of pain; but she gave 
us no long discoui-ses on her suffering, not 
even hinting ut her infirmity; and though 
compelled to remain indoors day and night, 
her world reduced to two rooms, she was the 
kindest and most geutle of women: and her 
s weet influence sobered even Edith. That 
Nevil was a beloved son it was easy to see; 
the worn face brightened when he spoke, 
and the dim eyo kindled with loving admira¬ 
tion. 
When, at length, we thought it time to go, 
she thanked us for the visit, and turning to mo 
with a smile, asked me to ride over without 
ceremony often, and I gladly promised. I 
was left the last with her, and Mr. Veruer 
looked back smilingly. We descended the 
stab’s; and then he addressed me with a laugh¬ 
ing apology for having monopolized the con¬ 
versation. 
“Like me, Kate didn't think of you.” said 
Edith. “May we see your improvements?" 
We all went out to the garden, and aunt, 
taking Edith’s arm, administered a mild re¬ 
buke, so that Mr. Verner and I were left to¬ 
gether, strolling along the smooth paths. 
“ You are foml of flowers, Miss Lovel < Ah ! 
that is a peculiarity of my own. This foun¬ 
tain is one of the improvements, and I se¬ 
lected this spot because it is just under my 
mother’s window, and she can see it, for we 
coll this i>art her garden. 
We entered the hothouse, which contained 
some rare exotics, that called forth my ad¬ 
miration. 
“I am rather proud of my collection,” 
said Mr. Verner, presenting me with a scarlet 
spray, which I fastened in my habit. 
Returning home I mentally decided that I 
had enjoyed the visit, and liked Mi’s. Verner; 
when we entered the house Edith touched my 
arm. 
“ You look very nice, Kate, und some one 
besides myself admired you to- day-Oh 1 
Brandon, where did you spring from ?” 
For Mr. Lovel appeared with extended 
hand. 
“ I have been waiting here a little while.” 
“To see me, I hope ?”said Edith, to which 
he replied, that that surely went without say¬ 
ing. 
After changing my habit I ran down 
stairs to find Brandon and aunt deep in chess, 
whilst unlike the other night, Edith joined 
amiably in the conversation, leaning on aunt’s 
chair, until languor suddenly overtook her. 
I asked her to play; after a long mental strug¬ 
gle she complied; and, her somewhat erratic 
performance ended, called on Brandon to 
sing. 
Oh ! those happy, quiet evenings 1 to me al¬ 
ways associated with pearly twilight skies 
and rosy sunsets, with snatches of quaint old 
ballads, with blossoms drooping and fading 
as day died ! 
More than a month had elapsed since I re¬ 
turned home; the time had passed in a rou¬ 
tine which Edith called dull, but which to me 
was pleasant. In my daily rides I became ac¬ 
quainted with the villagers, and by all was 
kindly received; in fact, my appearance was 
the signal for a jubilee amongst the little 
folks, with whom my black horse was a favor¬ 
ite. There were some queer characters among 
our tenants, and I was altogether in a new 
world. Thanks to my father and aunt Doro¬ 
thy, there was little poverty; but she had pen¬ 
sioners among the old people, aud these I often 
visited, and read for them, so that I was soon 
well known, and I may say, without vanity, 
well liked. Among Brandon's tenants I ven¬ 
tured several times; they were much more nu¬ 
merous than GUI's, and some were poor, but on 
every side T heard stories of his goodness, and 
remarks that ho was so much kinder than old 
Mr. Lovel.—[To bo continued. 
All monthly prostration and suffering by 
ladies is avoided by using Hop Bitters a few 
days in advance.— Adv. 
for fUomftt. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CI.ARK, 
THE SPELLIN’ SCHOOL. 
Sf.f. that crevice in the floor— 
Slender line from door to door, 
First meridian of the school— 
Which all the scholars toe by rule. 
Ranged along lu rigid row, 
Inky, golden, brown and tow, 
Are bends of spellers high and low. 
Like notes In music sweet as June, 
Dottlug off a danoing tune. 
Boy of Roshun takes the lead— 
Roughly thatched his bullet-head. 
At the foot an eight-year-old 
Stands with head of trembling gold ; 
Watch her when the word Is missed ! 
Her eyes are like an amethyst, 
Her Ungers dove-lulled. 11 jw apart : 
She knows that very wold by heart 
And swings like any pendulum. 
Trembling lest it foil to come. 
Runs the word along the line, 
Like the running of a vine, 
Blossoms out from Up to lip, 
Till the girl In azure slip 
Catches breath and spells the word, 
Flits up the class like any bird ; 
Cheeks in bloom with honest blood, 
And proudly stands where liaahati stood ! 
—B. N. Tayi.ok, in Home Life in Song. 
MRS. GARFIELD. 
Our country and, in fact, the whole world 
is pouring out its sympathy to Mi's. Garfleld, 
and it is but fitting that we make special allu¬ 
sion to our indorsement of such sentiment. 
The vocabulary would seem to have been 
exhausted in giviug expressions to feelings of 
sorrow from the heart’s deepest recesses, but 
some suggestive words are ever at hand; 
hackneyed they may be, but none the less 
genuine. As to the martyred one, now that 
his victory is won, we should say: “Well 
done, thou good and faithful servant,” and 
recognize his gain in our loss, and leaving him 
in the hands of the God he loved, pass to the 
living. 
Sympathy has, as it were, been gathered 
from the ends of the earth into an immense 
cauldron and there coudensed by fever heat 
into the purest compassion. 
This the offering we give to the woman who 
is now deserving of more than tongue can ut¬ 
ter, and who, in coming days, will need the 
greatest consideration, Her sons and daugh¬ 
ter are not forgotten, but their lives partake 
so much of the future that the band of time 
will in a measure alleviate their sorrow. A 
work is before them, to uphold the loving 
parent who must look to them for the inner 
comfort that only a family can impart. 
FASHIONS. 
The fashion for stripes is lengthwise. 
Bustles have a modernized name—crinolets. 
Shoulder capes and fichus are still to be 
much worn. 
The dolman in varied shape will take the 
load in Fall wraps. 
FI owe is are used with evening toilets to a 
great extent. 
The fashion in sleeves will meet the requre- 
ments of a multitude of tastes. They may be 
long, demi-long or three-quarter lengths ; 
tight, shirred or puffed. 
The most fashionable way of dressing the 
hair is low and close to the head ; but women 
with large faces aud necks should avoid this 
style and wear it high or off the neck. 
Plush is still in vogue and very mnch used. 
The trimming plushes are of different lengths 
of pile ; they are shaded, plaided, striped- 
Bayadere aud Roman—and mottled in color. 
Ostrich feathers in every form will be in as 
much demand this season as they were last. 
The combination fever still rages. There is 
a satisfaction in this for the many of limited 
means, as two partly worn suits may be 
combined and reproduced in a pleasing cos¬ 
tume ; or a few yards of new material will 
freshen an old style dress. Entire new fabrics 
are made up in this way. 
Wraps of chenille net are in favor, and as 
the season advances these will be lined with 
silk and possibly a heavier intermediate 
lining. 
English straws and heavy rough-and-ready 
black and white straws prevail for Fall. 
Shapes are large and eccentric. 
Cloth dresses are to tie the thing for street 
wear. Early in the season they will be 
trimmed with velvet or plush, aud later on 
with bands of fur, with muff and hat to match 
the fur trimming. Dark green, dark blue and 
browns of all shades from wood color to 
seal will figure in these suits, together with 
the pretty cheviot patterns which have had 
such a run of late. 
Shepherd’s plaid dresses of soft all-wool 
fabrics, in black and white, blue and gold, 
ruby and cream color, or gray and brown, 
will be one of the materials for ordinary street 
costumes this Fall. A few of the dresses made 
of these goods are combined with velvet, but 
they are usually made of killings or frills of 
the same, and adorned with handsome buttons 
of blue or gray steel, or silver. 
Domestic Ccouomi) 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY MAPLE. 
CONCERNING CLOSET PESTS. 
Ants, Silver Fish, Roaches, Etc. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
To begin, stop up all cracks and cranies with 
plaster-of- Paris or thick paint. After this is 
dry, wash the closet shelves with salt and w.a- 
ter, never usiny soaji. At the most, use as 
little water in cleaning closets as possible, as 
roaches in particular are fond of dampness. 
Silver fish feed largely upon paper, and the 
foremost thing to keep out of closets which 
they infest is t.'iat article. Glass jars that have 
been cracked or whole ones are capital vessels 
in which to put tea, coffee, tapioca, rice, sago, 
spices, sugar, raisins, etc., which are not other¬ 
wise provided for in the way of tin caddies. 
Allow nothing to remain in paper in the 
closets. 
Red ants I have never been troubled with, 
but I have had legions of black ones, that have 
been attracted by sugar or sweetmeats. A 
bit of cake or sweets of any sort are sure to 
draw them, as well as are fruit jars that have 
been put iu closets without being wiped clean. 
In order to catch ants, saturate a sponge with 
large pores, with sweetened water. When the 
sponge is filled with ants, immerse it in water. 
1 greatly dislike to kill ants, as they are the 
most intelligent creatures in the universe, and 
1 find that the best way to keep rid of them is 
to make the closets so far as possible insect- 
proof, and then to keep them free from entic¬ 
ing tidbits. I was visiting in a house lately—a 
most cleanily kept dwelling—where silver fish 
were making very annoying depredations. 
Both the ceiling and the walls of the drawing¬ 
room were papered, and in the corners of the 
room, and along the border, in every spot 
where the paper was not firmly attached to 
the plaster, the silver fish were eating it. The 
mistress of the house was at her wits end to 
know what to do, and there seemed nothing 
better to do than to strip off the paper and 
have the walls painted, a most tiresome task, 
but one that should have been done at the out¬ 
set. But the house, which was of stone and 
over-grown with English ivy, was 80 years 
old, and paper had been used on the walls for 
years and years. I was particularly glad to 
see that all the old-time architecture of the 
room hail not been torn out. There was the 
high, narrow mantel-piece with beautifully 
grooved and checked ornamentation—rather 
high and narrow for convenience to be sure ; 
but a wide one could have been placed beneath 
it, if desired. On the dinner table were old 
china dessert plates and saucers, beautifully 
decorated, that had been nearly half a century 
in use, aud were still free from flaw or fleck. 
Apropos of old walls—I would never paper 
them, ns I most assuredly would never hang 
paper on new ones. Instead, I would have 
them thoroughly cleaned, and all the crocks 
and broken places mended with suitable plas¬ 
ter; then paint thoroughly. There is uothing 
so clean and renovatiug as fresh paint. Many 
of the neutral shudes are pretty for walls, 
-while for halls that are large, bright red paint 
is charming for the walls. Have the ceiling 
white, and for a cornice or border put up a 
molding of gilt or of wood that has simply 
been oiled, especially if the interior wood¬ 
work of the house has been oiled instead of 
painted—as it should have been. 
As to old homesteads, with their small panes 
of glass, low ceilings and wooden shutters— 
leave them untouched. These things are fash¬ 
ionable now iu the finest of houses. What are 
inconvenient and unhealthful should alone be 
remodeled, and, above all, don’t tear out any¬ 
thing that is quaint or genuinely “old- 
fashioned.” You say. “ that is delicious,” and 
guard it accordingly. 
A VEGETABLE TALK. 
ANNIE L. JACK. 
We got tired of beans and beets, cucumbers 
and corn, and our thoughts went back regret¬ 
fully to the days of green peas and asparagus, 
when the amateur cook brought on the table a 
(to us) new dish. It was from a recipe in 
“Practical Cooking,” and as folio tvs: “To 
stew oyster plants:—Scrape anti throw (I sup¬ 
pose one can be gentle, not to splash; the word 
throw is suggestive) into a bowl of cold water 
in which is mixed a tablespoonful of vinegar. 
When all are scraped, cut into half-inch 
lengths, throw them into boiling water in 
which are half a teaspoonful of salt and one- 
third of a teaspoonful of sugar to one quart of 
water. When done, drain and mix them with 
white sauce drawn butter.” We enjoyed the 
change and uncovered another dish, in which 
we found parsnips. They had been parboiled 
then cut lengthwise and fried in hot butter. 
As some of the children, though very fond of 
corn, objected to gnawing it from the cob 
through fear of the toothache, we tried the 
following recipe from the same book with 
success: Mix into a pint of grated green com 
three tablespoonfuls of milk, one tea-cup of 
flour, a piece of butter the size o f a hickory 
nut, one teaspoonful of salt, half a teaspoonful 
of pepper and one egg. Drop it by dessert 
spoonfuls into a little hot butter and cook on 
both sides. It resembles, and has the flavor 
of fried oysters, and is a good tea or lunch 
dish. Serve hot on a warm platter. Of course, 
this is some trouble, but this the change amply 
repays. We have boiled our com in the husks 
this season. This it is said is practiced at the 
Saratoga Lake House, and it certainly tastes 
sweeter, though requiring more room to boil. 
FLOWERS FOR THE DINING TABLE. 
Of all the flowers we have ever made into 
bouquets for the dining table, Plumbago Ca- 
pensis has pleased us most. The delicate trum¬ 
pet-shaped flowers of azure blue, mingled with 
the pedate fronds of the Maiden-hair Fern— 
Adiantum pedatum—found in all damp, rocky 
woods, form a corn bination not excelled. We 
successfully transplanted several clumps of 
this fern to a “ rockery ” years ago, and its 
fronds have aided us in many a floral decora¬ 
tion. 
♦ » ♦- 
PICKLED PEACHES. 
Pare freestone peaches; place in a stone jar. 
Make a sirup in the proportion of one quart of 
best cider vinegar to three pints of white 
sugar; boil, skim and pour over the fruit boil¬ 
ing hot. Pour off the simp the next day, heat 
and again pour over. Do this every day un¬ 
til the fruit is the same color to the center. 
Any kind of spice may be added to the sirup 
that is liked. Mary B. 
HOME-GROWN TEA. 
We received from Florida a sample of tea 
grown and prepared by Mrs. I. Sumner. That 
lady writes:— 
“ Inclosed find a small sample of my first 
crop of tea. I am disappointed that I could 
not make it look more like the imported arti¬ 
cle, but as it is the JJavor we want, I suppose 
the looks do not matter much, aud I hope to 
improve by practice. My plants were three 
years old last Spring. After this year I ex¬ 
pect to make all we want for use in our own 
family. I only used the five upper leaves, 
which were very tender and succulent.” 
The tea was tested at the Rural Farm and 
pronounced of very good quality. We know 
of several Rural subscribers who are making 
tea enough for their own use, thus demonstrat¬ 
ing that tea culture in some of the Southern 
States is not the impracticable industry it was 
once held to be. 
ANOTHER SIDE TO THE THRICE-TOLD STORY. 
Who would not like to give the woman a 
stirring up, who, as soon as her husband comes 
in from his own work, sets him doing hers ? 
And what a pity it is that the patient victim 
of the woman “ bora tired ” should not, once in 
a while at least, assert himself and oblige her to 
make a little use of her own hands and feet. 
The name of such women is Legion; and, 
more's the pity, every Gill among them has 
her Jack. a. e. s. 
These old people whose blood has become 
thin and steps feeble are praising Hop Bitters 
for the good it has done them.—Adv. 
