I 
of beauty In every woman’s soul, by which she Is 
always redeemable ?— Times. 
promising, without observing anonymous at¬ 
tempts to raise flowers. In the country, where 
earth, space, and sky Invite to such production, 
this Is natural and to be expected. Hut. lu crowded 
cities. In manufacturing towns, in narrow, dingy 
streets. Into which a ray or snn can scarcely 
smuggle Itself, in upper back stories where the 
air Is noxious, lu remote, decaying corners that 
frown on tho strange and distant heavens, flowers 
are surprises, but always pleasant ones. If we 
look at them Closely, we shall see that they aro 
little more than half alive; that the pinks are 
dyspeptic, the pansies feverish, the rose3 con¬ 
sumptive—that their days aro necessarily num¬ 
bered. Still, If we search for them another sea¬ 
son, at the end of a year or two, we tlnd the 
•not the same, perhaps, though they show 
faithless. The mother waited for tho patter of 
the little feot and the sound of the little one's 
voice, and Anally ran to the station, where she 
learned that her husband had gone West wltb 
tbe little child. She telegraphed to him, she 
wrote to him; but received no reply. Convinced 
that he had deserted her and would never return, 
she sold her furniture, paid a visit to some friends 
In Wisconsin, and procured a divorce and a de¬ 
cree giving her the custody of the child. She 
then went to Oakland, Cal,, where her husband 
and her daughter were boarding, and took legal 
measures tor the recovery of tbe child. About a 
fortnight ago husbatul and wife met lu the law 
office—she with countenance cold and stern, and 
he with a hang-down, sheepish look. The law¬ 
yers went out to luucn and left the estranged 
couple together. When they returned, husband 
and wife were holding hands. Tbe writs were 
not served; there was a re-marrlage the next 
morning. 
ON COLOR 
NEVER GROW OLD 
As to the color of this room and the color of the 
rooms and decorations generally, I tlnd myself 
utterly at fault, 1 could tell you the color I Uko 
myself. 1 could perhaps even go further, and 
say, with little fear of contradiction, that green 
and crimson and gold form a beautiful chord of 
color, or that black and amber or blue and gray¬ 
ish green go well together, and still 1 should tell 
you nothing, or at loaat nothing worth tho tell¬ 
ing ; for the tact is that every really line combina¬ 
tion of color is dependent upon subtle gradations 
of tint and arrangement which e.m only be felt, 
not expressed In words, and the only way I have 
ever discovered of gaining a notion of good color 
Is t.o seek it In lands where It Is understood. It 
will perhaps seem a strange thing to many of 
my readers that, 1 should talk about color Delng 
understood, as if it were some branch of knowl¬ 
edge, and they would perhaps answer mo with, 
“Have we not good artists, as good as any lu tho 
world at present? and can they not tell us all 
about color, and show us how to manage It?” 
Well, this is exactly what they can’t do. it is 
with color as It Is with any other form of art- 
11 can only bo produced by people who delight 
in It. 
Now, for some years wo have taken most of our 
combinations of color from France, and slavishly 
followed whatever was the prevailing fashion 
there, and tho result has been that, the majority 
of dresses and fashions have been made in neu¬ 
tral hues, and people have cried out, “What an 
improvement! No more nast y emerald-green or 
sky-blue, but sort shades of gray and brown and 
dull green." But as ft matter of fact, wo arc 
really further off good color than we were before, 
anti we shall have to ret race our steps before there 
is a chance of our obtaining It. Formerly, En¬ 
gland had, at all events, lirmly grasped one idea 
about, color, and that was that bright colors were 
the prettiest, the best., somehow, and so It tried 
to have us many of them as possible. After all, 
In the main, this was a true Idea—the error was 
only In the deduction made from It. Bright, pure 
colors are tho best, really, and all real magnlll- 
CCUCO of hue must bo bused upon them. 
1 could show, had I time, that tho French have 
really no Idea of tho true beauty of color; wlmt 
they understand Is the relative arrangement of 
t int, and all that can be doun by snob arrange¬ 
ment tholr exquisite taste enables them to do 
euslly. Hut a taste for line color could not spring 
from a people as light uud artificial as are the 
French at heart., and consequently, In spite of 
tholr many ronownod artists, they liavo produced 
hardly one colorist. Color in lls utmost bight can 
only spring from the deepest, feeling, and it can 
be general In no nation LIU It has eutcred Into the 
hearts of Us people, and they liavo “ basked In It 
as if it were sunshine; danced with the delight of 
It, quarreled for It, fought tor It, starved for It— 
done, in fact, the opposite of what wo want to do 
with It—made It to keep, and not to sell.” But it 
is possible to learn t,o know good color when you 
sou It, though scarcely In England, for hero thero 
aro tow days In the year when we really ace t.lio 
sun as the Italians, for Instance, sec It. Never, 
till 1 saw dark cypresses against an Italian sky, 
did 1 gain au Idea of the exquisite harmony of 
green and blue, nor did I know what crimson and 
gold really were till l saw them blazing under an 
Italian sun In the bazaars of Bombay. Before 
then t had never understood lu the least the dif¬ 
ference between French nrettlness of color and 
real nobility, and I think unless ouch of my read¬ 
ers has passed through one such experience, ho 
will hardly understand what 1 mean. To see 
good color la dross, as l undumlamt It, you must 
go, at least, as far as Italy, and look, not at tho 
Imported French robes which you will see trailing 
by Ihe Arno’s side or loitering In the Corso, but at 
tho scarf of the Venetian gondolier, and tho 
handkerchief on the eontadina’s head. And If 
you turn your eyes from these to tho mountain 
sides, dark with cypress or hoary with olive, to 
the white houses amid the orange groves and tho 
blue sky, you will understand how, In such a 
country, the love of color springs up lu the hearts 
of tho people, by dally, hourly association, till It 
becomes part of their lives. 
And so, after all, l can tell no more about color 
than to show the conditio as under which alone 
wo uau hope to obtain It, and these are constant 
sight, and fervent love. How then. In this gray 
country of ours, can wo hope to reproduce the 
hue of an Italian summer? But It will be no 
moan victory If wo can bring homo to ourselves 
this truth—that far beyond all neutral shades of 
gray and brown and green, beyond all beautiful 
things In this world, rises supereminently tiro 
beauty of true color; and If this truth once glad¬ 
dens our hearts, once makes us rejoice In the em¬ 
erald Helds and the sunset sky, wo may be very 
sure that whatever color we spread upon our 
floor, or paint our walls with, will be right, tor It 
will spring, not from the elaborateness of man’s 
rules, but from tbe beauty of God’s creation. 
I looked In the tell-tale, mirror, 
And saw the murks of care. 
The crow’s feet and the wrinkles. 
And the gray ill the dark-brown hair. 
My wife looked o’er my shoulder— 
Most beautiful was she. 
Thou wilt never grow old, my love," she said 
“Never grow old to me. 
Forage is chilling of heart, 
And tblne, as mine can tell, 
Is aa young and warm as when first we heard 
The sound of our bridal bell I " 
I turned and kissed her ripe red lips: 
“ Let time do its worst on me, 
If iu my soul, my love, my faith, 
I never seem old to thee! ” 
flowers- 
like tbe others; they have the same sickly faces, 
the same poor make-believe of existence, the 
same courageous though transparent, counterfeit, 
as if they wouifl hide from ua their early doom. 
To what source do these straggling, languid 
plants owe their being, nurture, and renewal? 
Who Is fornvor struggling to light up this gloomi¬ 
ness or disguise that, squalor with a patch of grace 
or a flush of color ? Who, of course, but a woman ? 
Not, the line or cultured woman merely, but tbe 
uneducated, ordinary, common-place, In short, 
tho generic woman, who tends to (lowers as water 
to Its level or sun to fruitfulness, if her sur- 
roundlugs bo mean and repelling, she tries to 
mend them with a bit of beauty; If t hey be grate¬ 
ful and luxurious, she wants the correspondence 
of flowers for her expression of appreciation, lie 
she wliat or where she may, she not only longs 
for, she feels tho need of, flowers; they typify her 
•.esthetic aspiration ; they represent her dream of 
tho becoming which she vaguely hopes, some day, 
to realize. It la touching' to see how, In the midst 
of poverty, unwholesomeness, even of baseness, 
sbo labors with her slrnot-s of greenness or slips of 
blossom, as If to intimate that underneath such 
unwelcome seeming a woman's better nature lies 
concealed. .Slie clings to her floral symbols under 
every discouragement; sho pinches flic minutes 
for their care out of her toilsome hours; she cher¬ 
ishes them as sho does some of the old faiths 
which dark days and bitter disappointments have 
been unable to displace. 
Unflinching perseverance meets with reward, 
Generally It. may be, but not always, as woman’s 
uncrowned devotion to flowers copiously proves. 
Uow sho works and plans and worries for Mien), 
especially In town! now she watches over them, 
night ami day; changes their positions constantly; 
trees them from insects lu the morning, to dis¬ 
cover them covered again In the evening; pro¬ 
tects them from the frost when the frost docs not 
come; gets up In tho small hours to he assured 
that they are safe, and In her one moment of se¬ 
curity loses them forever! Plants are entirely 
incapable or gratitude; the more they receive tho 
less they return; Hie tenderer their nourishment, 
the surer their decay. They afl'ect to ho Sensible 
of woman’s yearning affection; they allow them¬ 
selves to be coddled, month after month, and give 
signs of prospering bravely until she begins to 
enjoy their loveliness without ituxlcty; when, 
prollttlng by her absence, they beckon to the 
frost, waiting outside the window, and exhale 
themselves In his gelid embrace. 
Flowers flourish In their native beds, or under 
the gardener's hands; they know there Is small 
chance of fooling them. But, when a woman, only 
partly acquainted with their nature, though im¬ 
pelled by pure love of them, assumes tholr charge 
and puts them Into pots, they Immediately begin 
their tantrums, plaguing ber perpetually, and 
usually rewarding ber disinterested efforts and 
anxieties with Intermittent dissolution. Gentle 
soul, tUn worse t hey act, tho kinder her treatment, 
the more sacrifices she is prepared to make. Her 
Inherent disposition to martyrdom is Invariably 
developed by them into full activity; they revel 
In her discomfiture anil distress? wooing furnaco 
heat, to blast, them, and bldeOus worms to devour 
their roots. They aro never quite so happy as 
when they can present, to her wistful gaze a hand¬ 
ful of withered leaves, a few sapless twigs, or tho 
damage done over night by predatory mice. They 
arc like a good many men; if they can only make 
her miserable, they are very willing to bo uncom- 
rortabie themselves, conscious that her capacity 
for discomfort far exceeds theirs; and this con¬ 
sciousness Inspirits them to a oonll nutty of wrong¬ 
doings. In many cases, doubtless, she kills them 
with kindness; and they have no objection to 
being so killed, If they can reciprocal© through 
life with a uniform spirit of unklndneas. They 
aro the very Tlmons of vegetation; Indeed, they 
altogether outdo Tlmon, since their hatred springs 
from her desire to bene tit and honor them. 
Nothing shows woman's stubborn persistence 
more thoroughly than her consecration to flowers 
from childhood to old ago. It is an Incurable In¬ 
fatuation. Were it anything leas, she would not 
go on from year to year, from period to period, 
nursing and caressing her plants to death; getting 
new ones to lavish her adoration on, with pre¬ 
cisely the same result. Marriage and maternity, 
which work such changes In her, do not alter her 
floWer-Worshlp a jot. Husband and babies arc 
often neglected for the unpromising pots, that 
draw her llko tlie law of gravitation. They aro 
human; they can make their wants known; but 
these poor, dumb things must be anticipated in 
their subtle needs; must have the deepest and 
truest sympathies of her woman’s heart. It there 
shall ever bo but one person left on this planet, 
and that person a woman, she will be found com¬ 
paratively careless of the destruction of the hu¬ 
man family, while sho watches and waters and 
cherishes some sickly plant that Is nearing Its 
end. But Is It not well, after all, that it Is so? 
Is not this devotion to flowers a form of the love 
AN ECCLESIASTICAL MISTAKE 
An amusing scene occurred in the Christian 
Church at l.arksvllle, Pa., recently. It appears 
that the Methodist pulpit at that place was to he 
supplied by a preacher from the Wyoming Semi¬ 
nary, and two young men proceeded thither for 
the purpose of conducting the service. Instead 
of going into tho Methodist Church, however, 
they went Into the Christian Church on the oppo¬ 
site side of tho street, where they found a large 
congregation. Thinking that they had been 
waited for, they proceeded at once to tbe vacant 
pulpit-, and, after a brief pause and a glance at 
the congregation, one of thorn rose, read a chapter 
In the Bible, and said ho had selected It as the 
foundation of a few remarks. The Rev. Mr. 
Bevan. pastor of tho church, who was a lltlie be¬ 
hind time, walked in at this Interesting Juncture, 
and much to his surprise found bis pulpit already 
occupied. Ho did not make a demonstration like 
Robert of Sicily, when that monarch found an 
angel In his place, but proceeded softly up and 
took bis seat Inside tho railing to await further 
developments. 
The young preacher was about to goon with his 
discourse, unconscious of the sensation ho was 
creating', when a lady from the church on the 
opposite side of tho street entered, and walking 
straight iip to the pulpit, beckoned to the young 
man, who was about to hold forth. Her conduct 
seemed somewhat strange to him, but he stopped 
to listen, and sbo whispered something In bis ear 
that made him change color quickly. She told 
him that he was in the wrong pulpit, und that 
the congregation over the way was waiting some¬ 
what impatiently for his arrival. The two young 
men were very much discomfited, but alter a 
moment they mastered the situation and sought 
a short Interview with Elder Bevan, to whom they 
made suitable apology. They then proceeded to 
the church across the road, but as they left the 
congregation smiled audibly over them mistake. 
IVmr.B It Is quite true that the Inhabitant of a 
large city looks with yearning eyes to tho green 
llelcls, and sighs for a breath of the blossom-laden, 
Invigorating air of the country, yet on a careful 
Inspection of hla facilities for enjoyment, the said 
Inhabitant Is not hair as badly off as he might be. 
Tills is more particularly true of New York. We 
will briefly uote some of thB Innocent pleasures 
that are within tho grasp, not only of the so-called 
“bloated aristocrat," but or tlie mail of moderate 
el t'cu instances as well. 
A rich and disinterested New-Yorker, Col. Kane, 
having a passion for driving, has at great, ex¬ 
pense, established a coach line to New Rochelle. 
It would be a twice-told tale togolnto particulars 
regarding the perfect appointments of this copy 
of the old English mall coach ; we merely wish to 
emphasize tlie fact that for live dollars tho wear¬ 
ied city mail nmy mount to Its topmost seat and 
dashing up the avenue, through our beautiful 
Central Park, ride over twenty miles of delightful 
country, with here and there a gllmpso of the 
cool blue waters of Long Island Hound peeping 
through foliage whoso delicious green affords a 
pleasing contrast, until arriving at New Rochelle 
lie partakes of an ample lunch, and returning In¬ 
hales the glorious country air, thanking fate that 
such gifts aro showered upon him. 
Meanwhile, another weary worker breaks from 
the treadmill of tho counting-room, and mounting 
a coach or a similar pattern Is, for half tho ex¬ 
pense above Indicated, whirled over an excellent 
road to the beach at Coney Island, when divesting 
himself of clothing, ne rushes Into the embrace 
of Nept une with ihe ardor of a maiden who for 
the first time feels the stirring impulses of the 
gentle passion. 
Refreshed mid glowing, with sundry dozens of 
Little Neele clams carefully put away under his 
waistcoat,he returns by moonlight to aclty which, 
seen from the drive, appears to have been visited 
by Aladdin during his absence. Myriads of lamps 
twinkle in tbe distance, with here and there a 
great, glowing eye casting a stream of light over 
tlie house-tops, which heknowsto bo tho Illumin¬ 
ated clocks m tho various towers that dot the 
lower part of the town, but which, to an unaccus¬ 
tomed eye, seem like beacons directing the mari¬ 
ner to a snug harbor. 
Then tlie very poor In circumstances have the 
Battery Park in which to loiter, looking at the 
vessels passlug up and down the bay in a never- 
ceasing procession, while the cool saLL air supplies 
the exhausted system with vigor for the next 
day’s tasks. 
But what Is this ordinary one-story structure 
In the very heart of the town, with groat buLl’s- 
eye windows rimming Its top, from which streams 
constant light and occasional musical sounds? 
We will enter, after having paid liny cents for 
the privilege. What! Aladdin again. Here wo 
have an old railroad terminus, occupying a block 
of ground, converted Into a concert garden, with 
music furnished by perliapa the finest military 
band in the world. We hear the last strains of 
Aur's delicious bit of sentiment, “ Einbrassmcnt,” 
played In a manner that lulls one Into a sense of 
the luxurious delight of mere existence, and aa 
tho air dies away luto a musical murmur, one’s 
senses are overcome by the perfume of flowers, 
mingled with the rhythmic patter of fountains 
which send up jets of sparkling water amidst a 
wilderness of rare shrubs, trees and exotic plants. 
Wandering among a maze of graveled walks, 
densely thronged with the beauty for which New 
York Is famous, one comes upon, at the lower 
end of the garden, an Imposing maBs of Imita¬ 
tion rock-work, shaped like a grotto, from the up¬ 
per end of which tumbles, helter-skelter, a cas¬ 
cade oi water that is by no means artlflclal. Two 
lime Ughts, directing their powerful rays on the 
fall, convert It Into a prismatic mass that recalls 
visions of Gold min. Festooned about the gird¬ 
ers, partially hiding the wood construction, are 
flags, shields, and devices, arranged In various 
graceful shapes, which, In addition to the Im¬ 
mense arcs of colored gas-jets springing from tho 
side walls In all directions, form a dome of light 
and beauty that leads captive the senses. 
Such are a few of the Innocent diversions pre¬ 
pared for the New-Yorker who, perforce, seeks in 
metropolitan limits his run in urbi —country in 
the city— and, all things considered, It is not so 
bad a fate as It might be. r. 
RUSSIAN PRIESTS, 
Russian priests are a disgrace to Christianity. 
“ He has priests’ eyes,” la a proverb Which means 
that the person so characterized la lustful, greedy, 
and self-seeking. Moreover, they are, In a 
drunken nation, the moat drunken. A friend of 
mine, Mho stayed several months at a Russian 
country-house, says It was a common sight to seo 
two priests lying In a cart, as pigs do when they 
are driven to market. One Saint’s day, he tells 
me, tho priest came to chapel too far gone to read 
the service; Instead of being struck dumb Milh 
shame, ho actually whined out, an apology; “ We 
poor fellows spend all our time In praying for 
others, and have no one to pray fur us; no wonder, 
therefore, we fall under temptation.” Things are 
Just as bad in Bulgaria; an English engineer, who 
has Just written a hook of Ills experiences there, 
went over one Sunday to attend a church, whose 
“Pope” had a great reputation for sanctity. 
There was no service, for the “Pope” was lying 
dead druuk among tbe nettles at the back of bis 
vodka (whisky) shop. “ l heard,” quaintly adds 
the writer, “ that for the live previous Sundays 
his place had been among those vegetables.” Is 
It any wonder the Turks look on a reUglon which 
has such teachers aa Utter ror swine than for 
men? 
A CURE FOR STAMMERING 
A Canada Journal contains a letter from a cor¬ 
respondent w ho professes to have been a stam¬ 
merer from childhood almost to manhood, and who 
wishes to give other sufferers fife benefit of the 
treatment by which he was cured, no s^s: 
“ Go into a room where you will be quiet and 
alone, get some book that will Interest you, but 
not excite you, and sit dowui and read two hours, 
aloud, to yourself, keeping your teeth together. 
Do the same tiling every two or three days, or 
once a week, If very tiresome, always taking care 
to read slowly and distinctly, moving the Bps. 
but not tlie teeth. Then, when conversing with 
others, try to speak as slowly and distinctly as 
possible, and make up your mind that you will 
not stammer. I tried this remedy, and read for 
two hours aloud, with my teeth together. The 
first result wa3lo make my tongue and Jaws 
acho—that Is, while 1 was reading; and the next 
to make me feel as It something had loosened my 
talking apparatus, for I could speak with less 
difficulty immediately. The change was so great 
that every one who knew me remarked It. I re¬ 
peated the remedy every five or six days for a 
month, and then at longer Intervals, until 
cured." 
Idleness is the badge of gentry, the bane of 
body and mind, the nurse of naughtiness, tho 
step-mother of discipline, the chief author of all 
mischief, one of the seven deadly sins, the cushion 
upon which the devil reposes, and a groat cause, 
not only or melancholy, but of many other dis¬ 
eases, for the mind Is naturally active, and if it 
be not occupied about some honest business It 
rushes Into mischief or sinks into melancholy. 
MARTYRS TO FLOWERS, 
all new dresses are made in the clinging 
Princess shape. 
One can hardly go to any part of civilization, to 
any spot or place however barren, dreary, or un¬ 
