9 
signed to nurse to go away with Polly. She did 
so, and still Mary only lingered the slilrt In a ner¬ 
vous sort ol a way. I stole to her side, and as she 
turned her look frightened me. ‘ Take that child 
away, Mllly; take lilrn lustantly! I can’t breathe 
the air near roe—It stifles me!' 
• “ Hush, Mary V 1 Bald. 4 Tou are not well, that 
is all. We will go away, uot poor Bobby.’ I got 
her down stairs ana prevailed on her to lie down. 
There seemed a struggle, a great struggle going 
on within her; and so strong was the mastery she 
had to keep over herself that I saw she could 
hardly help thrusting me away from her In her 
efforts to throw off something that seemed forc¬ 
ing Itself on her. Was it the memory returning ? 
1 thought, and prayed silently to God to aid it. 
She did not again refer to the boy, but her mental 
agony continued, and it. was quite two hours be¬ 
fore 1 could leave her. When, after at length 
prevailing on her to take a little food, she sank 
asleep, I stole thankfully away. 
‘‘Nurse was awaiting me. *1 can't keep the 
child quiet, miss. He keeps saying he wants to 
go to the lady. 1 don't know what to do with him, 
but I know not u bit of rest 1 shall get this blessed 
night.” 
“ ' Get him Interested In some little story, nurse, 
and keep them both quiet, for Mrs. Hammond has 
gone to sleep. 1 am tired myself, and will go and 
He down.” And what we had been so anxious to 
accomplish came about quite naturally, In this 
wise. 
“ An hour later, I got up from the sofa and stole 
to my sister’s room. 1 found the door ajar, and 
on looking In. there was little Edward sitting very 
gravely by her bedside, one small hand on the 
coverlet. It was touchingly beautiful to see the 
little child patleutly waiting for Its mother to 
awaken awaken to memory, memory of love and 
of him, l could hardly move—l felt spell-bound. 
He never stirred, but Ids largo blue eyes rested 
alternately on her face and on mine, and his tiny 
hand crept closer to hers; but. he never ventured 
to touch It for fear of awakening her, while on 
Ids face rested the lmlf-sad, wondering expres¬ 
sion so like his father’s. 1 saw It. was best as It 
was. God had doubtless brought him at the right 
time. He had taken away—He was about to re¬ 
store, and He knew the way better than 1. 
“ For half an hour we watched, when a slight 
movement told ub that she had awakened. Still 
she did not open her eyes, but moved about rest¬ 
lessly, and sighed as If waking from a dream. 1 
stole behind a screen, that he might be the first 
Object she saw. 
"She began speaking- to herself—a habit of 
hers. ' It Is so strange! Dream upon dream- 
dream upon dream 1—and when I open my eyes I 
almost expect to SOS l he child before me, ibai in 
my sleep hangs round my neck till my blood 
warms at his touch 2’ She added wearily. * l think 
l must he going inaii,’ Still her eyes were closed 
and she seemed to be gently dozing off again, 
when the child quietly touched her hand, and In 
a voice of subdued ecstasy burst out, * I want you 
for my mammal’ The eyes opened and rested on 
him—they seemed to grow larger and larger; she 
raised herself, and the boy, with ills overflowing 
childish love, flung himself sobbing on the bed! 
“ Fur a moment she was stupefied, and passed 
her hand again across her brow. It was hut for 
a moment: the veil was raised, the mist cleared, 
and the su nshl ne of the pent-up mother-love over¬ 
flowed with a loud cry—"My child! my hoy! ” 
So ended the letter. 
1 , Indeed, went to see them as soon as I could, 
and a Joyful household I found. Mother and boy 
were Inseparable—the long fast of the affections 
made tuein ravenous of love. 
In this case the child’s Instinct seemed to lead 
him t.a his mother as much as her Instinct led her 
to lilm; but by what link the chain of memory 
was united we cannot conceive. He who consti¬ 
tuted the brain and mind, as well as the heart 
and emotions, only knows—but so It was. They 
found conclusive evidence of young "Clyde” being 
indeed her sou; aud when once the memory was 
whole again, various circumstances came to her 
rnind to substantiate the woman’s story, without 
even the aid of the Identity of the night-shirt with 
that of her child. 
1 told Mi's. Hammond and Miss Dennis that with 
their permission I would certainly write their 
strange story in my book of “ Remarkable Cases.” 
You, reader, must Judge whether It be one or 
no. 
“PLYMOUTH ROCKS.” 
As men, women and children, we have read and 
held In reverence the historical associations con¬ 
nected with Plymouth Rock, in Massachusetts, it 
comes to our remembrance as among the first, 
moral lessons taught us m our earlier readings; 
and although every one is not influenced alike In 
this respect, I think with most of us there la awak¬ 
ened a thrill of conscious sympathy when we re¬ 
call (even in imagination) that devoted little band 
of Christians who became exiles from their native 
land, exposed themselves to unknown fields aud 
finally, after a stormy passage In the Mayflower, 
landed on the bleak New England shore—where, 
kneeling on Plymouth Rock, they sang hymns of 
praise and thanksgiving to God for their safety 
and freedom from an oppressive power, whose 
only Justification for that oppression seemed told 
in those tew words, “Might is Right'” History 
inscribed on its brightest tablets of record the 
names of the Plymouth Pilgrims, while round the 
fair brow of Liberty there shone a brighter halo 
at this recognition of our young Republic and of 
the freedom It gave in thought and action to the 
oppressed of all uatlons. 
Coming from those far-away Puritan times to 
the generation of to-day, shall we not And many 
pilgrims out on the Ocean of Life seeking a new 
world—a Plymouth Rock—where, in the light of 
some great faith, the grandest possibilities of 
their nature may meet with glorious fruition ? 
Shall we not find many victims to the unyielding 
necessity of circumstance, throwing off the shack¬ 
les of tyrannical habits and daring toll, danger 
and suffering, p09slbly death, In endeavors to 
reach the Plymouth Rock of their new work ? As 
a people, are we not all embarked in a frail ves¬ 
sel, and may not the blind, political Polyphemus 
sink us at pleasure with a swing of bis arm ? In 
the great pending event, do uot our eyes grow 
dim with watching the doubtful balance as we 
sec old systems fail aud old principles becoming a 
byword V Is the great national feeling, wave after 
wave, to re-couect itseir to meet the solemn emer¬ 
gency v Are our statesmen—the Plymouth Rocks 
of our Republic—to prove naught but wreckers to 
a waiting people ? 
Aye, truly, wq are all seeking new worlds! Shall 
we find the Plymouth Rocks? Does our human 
tongue falter, our human understanding shrink 
aghast at the possible perils awaiting us, or do 
we hold out willing arms, saytog, “ Gome, weary 
days Ailed with toll, un cheered by any smile rrom 
kindred lips or glance lrom loving eyes! Come, 
days that lead among the rough by-ways of the 
world and toss the living, yearning human heart 
from one strange household to another—that 
teach In every hour of your flight how some paths 
are strewed with roses, only that others may be 
filled with thorns! Come, days within whose 
very bitter lurks a sweet that only those who meet 
yon willingly can ever taste—a sweet like that 
grand victory which noble doeds wring from de¬ 
feat, which comes when the spirit has dropped Its 
anas after long conflict, and we offer humble 
thanksgiving to God that He guided the blinded 
eye and the faltering hand, and gave at, last the 
leaden casket with the precious Jewel shrined 
within!” Mva Bradford. 
-♦ ♦» ■ ■ 
HONITON AND MACHINE LACE. 
Honiton lace Is without doubt the best ever 
made In Englaud. Its method ol manufacture is 
that of second or third-rate Brussels; and as an 
applique lace ir, is, perhaps, doubtful whether it 
deserves Lo be mentioned In the same paper with 
really artistic work. Honlum was famous for its 
“sprigs” sewn on to the ground, both sprigs and 
ground being made on the pillow. Enormous 
prices were paid by the Honiton lace makers for 
Flemish thread, rising, It Is said, to a hundred 
guineas the pound during the war with France. 
The workwomen were also well paid, their wages 
being calculated In this wise—the lace ground was 
spread out on the counter, and the worker herself 
desired to cover it. with shillings, and as many 
coins as found place on her work she carried away 
a3 the (rule of her labor. 
Real HonlUm went out of date with the inven¬ 
tion of bobbin-net, on which the sprigs were “ap¬ 
plied,” until that form of lace went out. of date 
altogether, being succeeded by the modern gui¬ 
pure—the Honiton of to-day—which composed the 
bridal dresses of the Crown Princess of Prussia, 
Princess Louise of IIcssc, and the Princess ol 
Wales. Modern guipure is almost a reversal of 
the old style of " application.” The sprigs, after 
being made on the pillow, are sewed upon a piece 
of blue paper aud then united either upon the 
pillow by “cut.works” or “ purllflga,”or else Joined 
with the needle with various stitches—laeet-point, 
rescati, outwork, button-hole stitch (the most ef¬ 
fective of all) and purUng, which is made by the 
yard. 
It haslong*been a reproach to the Devonshire 
lace-makers that they Invent nothing—originate 
nothing: their happiest efforts oelng merely Imi¬ 
tations or Flemish models. The Honiton lace at 
Hie International Exhibition of 1862 could 111 bear 
comparison with the fabrics of France and Bel¬ 
gium. The designs were crowded and spiritless; 
heavy medallions and clumsy arabesques, encir¬ 
cled with bouquets of flowers—poor Imitations of 
nature. A great deal or trouble- nas been experi¬ 
enced In persuading the Uice-workors of Devon¬ 
shire to adopt newer and better designs. For a 
long while they Insisted on sticking to their old 
patterns; hut at last some Impression has been 
made on them by the authorities of South Ken- 
si ngr.on, who have recently suppUed them with a 
large number of beautiful designs. 
One effect of the gradual degradation of taste 
which led to the fineness of the reseau being ulti¬ 
mately considered of more importance iban the 
beauty of the pattern, was one of those determi¬ 
nations of the human Intellect In one direction 
which rarely fail to achieve success in the end. 
After Innumerable failures, bobbin-net was at last 
made by Ueathcote’s machine, and the value of 
the “clear ground” was gone forever. Bobbin- 
net machines were not only set- up In England, 
but m Brussels, for the purpose of making the 
double and triple twisted net, upon which the 
pillow flowers are sewed, to produce the so-called 
“ point applique.” This extra flne Brussels net 
has become deservedly celebrated, and consumes 
a large quantity of Scotch cotton thread annual¬ 
ly. Soon after the triumph of England with bob. 
bin-net, the Jacquard system was tried at Ly s 
for making lace by machinery, and no sooner 
were the experiments successful than Notting¬ 
ham began t.Ue manufacture of machine lace on 
a large scale. 
At the International Exhibition of 18 C 2 , Notting¬ 
ham exhibited Spanish laces, most faithful copies 
of the costly pillow-made Barcelona: Imitations 
of Mechlin, the brode and plcot executed by hand; 
Brussels needle-polut; Caen blonds and Vulen- 
eleunes, rivaling those of Calais; also the black 
laces of Chantilly and Mlrecouit. 
Machine lace has had a curious effect. It has 
almost exterminated the Inferior kinds or hand¬ 
made lace, but ll has not diminished the demand 
for the finer fabrics of the pillow and the needle. | 
On the contrary, the finest work of Atencon and 
Brussels lias been sought more eagerly than ever 
by the rich, since machinery has brought -the 
wearing or lace within the reach of all classes.— 
AU the Year Round, 
-- 
IN A VIENNA CAFE. 
The most comfortable place to study the people 
of Vienna Is in the large windows of a cafe; here 
you can see every one passing, as well as the peo¬ 
ple drinking coffee or reading the papers Inside. 
Here you will find every class of society at almost 
any hour of the day. A few days ago r went to a 
cujt\a amuse myself forau houraud bad just com- 
f ortably seated myself and ordered a "sehw^rtz- 
en,” when tn came a lady of about two hundred 
weight and seated lierscir at my table, with about 
a dozen aud a hair of newspapers of all descrip¬ 
tions— English, French aud American illustrated 
papers—so covering the table that, when the 
waiter came with my coffee, he was obliged to 
clear a space for the little tray. This drove the 
old lady Into a paaslon, and her grumbling con¬ 
tinued till something in the Klckerlkl changed 
the channel of her thoughts. 
After she had llnlshed all her papers and had 
looked round the cafe to see lr there was anything 
clso she could do. 1 ventured to ask her If she had 
always lived In Vienna. She said she had, and 
did not propose to leave it, and immediately asked 
me to what nation 1 belonged. Upon my saying 
l wasAmerican, she started and looked to the 
door as If about to run; but a glance re-assured 
her, and she asked If It were safe to walk the 
streets of America alone. She said she had heard 
that every one carried pistols or guns. To this 1 
replied she would bo as safe as on the streets of 
Vienna, If not more so. Shethen wanted to know 
if it. were safe to ride in a railroad train there; 
she had heard that they always ran off the track 
and killed lots of people. I answered t his by say¬ 
ing that she might get her life insured and then 
she would be perfectly safe. Tins seemed to be 
a conundrum which needed more study than she 
could give In a ea/e, so she arranged her costume 
and departed, much to my relief. 
A Vienna ca.Ce Is something different from any¬ 
thing we have In America; lr takes the place, In 
some respects, of our bar-rooms—that Is, you can 
get all the liquor you want, but you must drink 
it sirulght, as the Austrians know nothing about 
mixed drinks. Brandy, schnapps and absyuthe 
are the only liquors which are drunk as a rule 
with water, while schnapps Is taken In a small 
glass Which holds about a thimbleful. Coffee 
seems to the Austrian what whiskey Is to the 
Irish. When an Au.si.rlan feels as lr he needed 
soracthlngto " brace up on betakes*, "schwartz- 
en,” wlileliIs black coflee without, milk; irhebe 
hungry, he takes a while coffee—that. Is, with 
milk anil sugar - and takes a long stick of bread, 
which he puts in the coffee to soak It up, the 
bread acting as a sponge. Tills Is not. an excep¬ 
tional case; but every one does it; some even 
break the bread tip and wring it tv I th a spoon into 
a sort of iuush. which does not look at all inviting. 
—Boston Advertiser. 
-- 
HINTS TO DRAMATIC AUTHORS. 
The fact Is, that the dramatic Is distinct from 
the literary faculty. A literary man Is accustom¬ 
ed to think, to reason, to explain, to write essays; 
and when he has constructed t he plot of a pluy, 
he at once proceeds to dilute It with talk, often 
brilliant, witty, admirable—everywhere but In a 
play. He reads his pet hits to his friends In 
piece-meal fashion, a little at a Urne; they 
applaud, and their applause is genuine, be¬ 
cause they do not hear all he has got to say at 
one sitting, Nothlug misleads an author more 
than these partial readings of his work. The 
limbs are fair enough in themselves, but when 
put together they produce an impracticable mon¬ 
ster. 1 think authors overlook far too frequently 
lhai che essence or drama Is that the personages 
should do something, not talk about lb—that, to 
give you an extreme Illustration, that would be 
the best-constructed dram a which could be played 
In (lumb-show, and yet toll its story completely. 
The persons on the scene should do things, not 
talk, moralize and explain what is suppused to 
have been done off the stage. It is befure the au¬ 
dience that the action should take place, and the 
least talk there Is the bettor. Modern audiences 
want to be amused, and as they are composed to 
a great ext r nt of well-informed and traveled per¬ 
sons, decline tu listen to talkee-talkee, as they 
call it. T hey have enough talk and to spare at 
the club, at the dinner-table, everywhere, and 
don’t want it at the theater, where they go to be 
amused and—to forget .—London World. 
•-♦-» ■»- 
CHINESE PROVERBS. 
The tree overthrown by the wind had more 
branches than roots. 
At court people sing that they may drink; lit a 
village people drink that they may sing. 
When men are together, the) listen to one an¬ 
other ; hut women and girls look at one another. 
All errors have only a time: after a hundred 
millions of objections, subtleties, sophism;, and 
lies, the smallest truth remains precisely what it 
was before. 
Whoever makes a great fuss about doing good, 
does very little; he who wishes to be seen and 
noticed when he is doing good, will not do It long; 
he who mingles humor and caprice with It will do 
It badly. He who only thinks of avoiding faults 
and reproaches, will never acquire virtues. 
LEARNING TO PRAY. 
Kneeling, fair in the twilight gray, 
A beautiful child was trying to pray; 
His check was on hi% mother’s knee. 
His little bare feet half hidden. 
His smile still coming unbidden, 
And hia heart brim full of glee. 
“ I want to laugh, is it naughty ? Say! 
Oh, mamma! I’ve had such fun to-day, 
I hardly can say my prayers. 
I don't feel J nst like praying: 
I want to be out doors playing, 
•V»d run all undressed down stairs.’’ 
“ I can see the flowers in tho garden bed, 
Shining so pretty, and sweet, and red, 
And Samuty is swinging I guess. 
Oh! everything is so tine out there, 
I want to put it all in my prayer. 
Do yon mean f can do it by * Yes V ” 
“ When I say * Now I lay me,’ word for word. 
It seems to me as if nobody heard. 
Would ‘ Thank you, dear God,’ be right t 
He gave me a mamma. 
And papa and Sammy— 
O, mamma, you nodded 1 might." 
Clasping his hands and hiding his face, 
Unconsciously yearning for help and for grace, 
The little one now began. 
His mother’s nod and sanction sweet 
Hud led him close to the dear Lord’s l'eet, 
And his words like music ran : 
“ Thank you for makiog this home so nice, 
Tho flowers, and folks, and my two white mice. 
(I wish 1 could keep right on.) 
I thank yon, too, for every day. 
Only I’m most too glad to pray; 
Dear God, 1 think I’m done." 
“ Now, maunua, rock mo—just a minute— 
And sing tho hymn With ' darling’ in it, 
I wish I could say my prayers! 
When 1 get big 1 know I can. 
Oh ! won’t it be nice to lie a man. 
And stay all night down Btairs ? 
The mother singing, clasping him tight. 
Kissing and cooing a fond " Good night," 
Had treasured his every word. 
For well she knew the artless Joy 
Aud love of her precious, innocent boy, 
Were a prayer that her Lord had heard. 
1 ,Mary E. Dodge. 
-- 
THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 
By the Mosaic law there was a knowledge of 
sin. By the teaching and example of Jesus Christ 
there Is a much truer and deeper knowledge of It. 
That faultless aud Ufinpproaahed lire which we 
study in tho pages of the gospels, brought home 
to the heart as well us the understanding by the 
secret teaching of the Eternal -Spirit, endows the 
Christian with an ideal sanctity altogether Ills 
own. Around the Sermon on 1,l:e Mount, or the 
last discourse In tlve supper room, there is an un¬ 
earthly atmosphere of purity and holiness, which 
lights up the soul, wilh microscopic distinctness, 
the consciousness of secret evil, more perfectly 
than could any code or precept s. One only appear¬ 
ing among us tn human form has been able to ask 
the tremendous questiun, “ Which or you con- 
vlnceth me of sin v” And as we gaze on him, holy, 
harmless, undented, separate from sinners, In his 
purity, his courage, his humility, his tenderness. 
Ids majestic moral strength, his fearless loyalty 
to truth, his vast charity, we see that which re¬ 
veals us to ourselves. At the feet of the Lamb, 
without blemish aud immaculate, we feel with 
Job, that the report of God’s sanctity has been at 
length exchanged for sight; we exclaim with the 
apostle, “ Depart, from me, for I am a sinful man, 
O Lord .”—Canon Liddon. 
-♦ ♦- 
FILIAL AFFECTION. 
That education Is imperfect which dops not 
foster in the heart of the child a tender and abid¬ 
ing affection for its mother. "Around the Idea 
ot one's mother the mind of man clings with fond 
affection. It Is the first dear thought stamped 
upon our inrant. hearts, when yet soft and capa¬ 
ble of receiving the most profound Impressions, 
and all the after feelings are more or less light In 
comparison. Our passions and our wilfulness 
may lead us far from the object of our filial love; 
we may become wild, headstrong, and angry at 
her counsels or opposition; but when death lias 
stilled her monitory voice aud nothing hat calm 
memory remains to recapitulate her virtues and 
good deeds, affection, like a flower beaten to the 
ground by a rude storm, raises up her head and 
smiles amid her tears. Round that idea, as we 
have said, the mind clings with fond affection; 
and even when the earlier period of our loss 
forces memory to be silent, fancy takes the place 
of remembrance, and t wines the Image or our de¬ 
parted parent with a garland of graces and beau¬ 
ties and virtues, which we doubt not that she 
possessed.” 
I no not think God cares anything about our 
Unitarian or Trinitarian hypotheses about Him ; 
whether we worship Him as a single being or 
under some three-fold distinction. He does care 
a great deal about the earnestness of our worship. 
Are there three persons In the Godhead? Aye! 
three thousand—three millions—countless per¬ 
sons in the Godhead, for in H m we all live and 
move aud have our being.— Rev. Dr. Bartol. 
Faithfulness and fidelity are the highest 
things.— Confucius. 
’Tis a mercy to have that taken from us which 
takes us from God .—John Yenning. 
