582 
THE BUBAL MEW-YOBHEB. 
AUG 34 
regularly-used bed to look always smooth, 
they must be used. True, a very pretty ef¬ 
fect is produced by using a colored spread 
and a round bolster during the day, the bol¬ 
ster being covered with the same material as 
the bed-spread, gathered into a frill at either 
end, and there tied with bows of ribbon. The 
handsomest of these covers are made of fig¬ 
ured draping silk or embroidered satin sheet¬ 
ing, but they are very pretty in figured art 
muslins, such as are sold for curtains. Ac¬ 
cording to tho English mode, the bed-spread is 
bordered with a frill nine inches deep. Again, 
the bolster may be covered with colored 
silesia or sateen—pink, orange and pale green 
are the prettiest colors—and then the outer 
covering may be made of fine dotted swiss, 
frilled at the ends, and tied with ribbon of 
the same color as the lining. The bed-spread 
should be of swiss, bordered by a nine-inch 
frill, and lined with the colored silesia. 
* * 
Still, to many people, nothing is so desir¬ 
able as pure white for bed-covering; in such 
a case fine muslin shams and a heavy Mar¬ 
seilles spread are prettiest. We care little for 
lace bed sets; unless of exceedingly good and 
consequently expensive laco they are very 
vulgar; often they are much out of place. 
Similarly, bureau covers and mats of lace and 
ribbon are pretty enough, yet out of place for 
moderate purses. It is not only their orig¬ 
inal cost that is objectionable, but their per¬ 
ishable quality, for once soiled, there is no 
possibility of renewing them without ripping 
them apart, at least. Fine linen, open-hem¬ 
med and embroidered in washing silk, makes 
the prettiest and most durable covers for 
washstand and bureau. The fringed linen 
covers are very pretty, but the fringe never 
looks so well after washing as before, no mat¬ 
ter how carefully it is laundried. The same 
may be said of carver’s napkins, tray cloths, 
or beaufet scarves. These three articles last 
named are very pretty and artistic when the 
white cloth is embroided in some bold designs 
with white rope linen, or a mingling of white 
and gold. The same style may be used for 
table runners or over-cloths, to be laid on the 
white damask of the dining-table. An over¬ 
cloth of fine white butcher’s linen, embroid¬ 
ered in gold or pale green, with a fagcy pot 
containing a low-growing fern in the center, 
will make a very plain dining-table a thing 
of beauty. 
MAKING COLLECTIONS. 
OLIVE E. DANA. 
I THINK it is one of the best and happi°st 
recreations that any young person could 
have—a hobby and a habit in every way safe, 
wholesome, and delightful—this of making 
“ collections.” I was reading the other day 
in a bit of informal reminiscence, how a pop¬ 
ular author, of growing repute, who speaks 
through his books and from his editorial chair 
to I don’t know how many thousands of 
young people, treasures still his specimens: a 
hundred or more birds’ eggs, with many nests 
taken after the birds had left them; an al¬ 
bum containing hundreds of postage-stamps, a 
tray of shells, and minerals, cards, and old 
coins, gathered all of them in his boyhood. 
If I were a boy, I should want almost as 
many. I should want the birds’ eggs, and the 
minerals, and the coins; and still another col¬ 
lection of woods. A girl might have such col¬ 
lections also, in addition to her herbarium. 
"Who wouldn’t rather have such a one, than 
the most elaborate piece of fancy-work? How 
much more strength and pleasure would go to 
the making of it; yes, would come with the 
making of it! And what happy memories 
would make it doubly precious! 
But there is another sort of collection that 1 
wonder young people don’t ofteiier try to get, 
and that is a collection of books. Perhaps it 
is the very abundance of books, and the easy 
access to school and town libraries that make 
many people so indifferent to the charm of 
ownership. But the joy of possessing even a 
few loved volumes has only to be experienced 
to be appreciated, and is enough of itself to 
make one long for more, and, once begun, the 
little library grows as if by magic. One mis¬ 
take which young people often make, and 
which helps to discourage effort in this direc¬ 
tion, is that of thinking that, as in reading, 
one must start with certain ‘“standard” 
works, whether he likes or enjoys them or 
not. One might adopt and adapt Car¬ 
lyle’s advice to a young student, and say: 
“Buy the first book you honestly desire to 
own or read.” That will lead on to others, 
and books so chosen are likely to be valued. 
I would not at first, unless my means were 
very ample, make any pretense of “depart¬ 
ments,” though 1 would have, if possible, a 
variety, And I wouldn’t care for so called 
(‘Classic?,’’ unless I happened to really want; 
them. I am not sure but I should begin with 
books of and about the present, and perhaps 
go back from that to the past and come 
down, after the usual fashion. And I think 
I should let some of the living writers who 
know so well how to do it, re-tell to me, with 
the light of to-day upon them, the old stories 
of history and mythology, invention and bio¬ 
graphy. 
I should, if my means were small, look for 
cheap editions, with, however, good print, al¬ 
ways, and usually serviceable bindings. The 
publications of John B. Alden, of New York, 
are excellent, various, and marvelously 
cheap. I should study his catalogues, and 
those of Wanamaker of Philadelphia. And I 
would look for shop-worn copies of desirable 
works at the book-stores, where space is often 
given to such bargains. I should be willing 
to do without other indulgences, I am sure, 
for the sake of adding to my store, and it 
would soon be understood, at holiday time, 
that books are more acceptable than anything 
else as gifts. 
Carlyle advises us to begin with “history, 
and especially the history of one’s native 
country." And I think I should like among 
my books, after I had secured a few “ must- 
haves” in the way of reference, etc., and 
maybe a volume or two of poems, some works 
of American history and biography,—for 
biography tells history, we all know, in the 
most graphic and readable way. 
Both are combined in some of the volumes 
of the “Riverside Library for Young People,” 
published by Houghton, Mifflin, & Co., of 
Boston, at 75 cents per volume. Two of the 
series are especially to be commended: Mr. 
Horace E. Bcudder’s “ Life of George Wash¬ 
ington,” aDd “ The American Revolution” by 
John Fiske. And there are other biographers 
that help to tell the story of our country, and 
make good reading, also:—the lives of Ben¬ 
jamin Franklin, of John Adams, of Lincoln, 
Grant and Garfield, of Clay and Sumner and 
Daniel Webster; and I should want sketches 
of authors, too. Mrs. Bolton’s “Famous 
American Authors” is one of the best of such 
books; and still another pleasant volume is 
Mr. Riding’s “ Boyhood of Living Authors.” 
I would not reject altogether “ paper covers.” 
I have some which have done excellent ser¬ 
vice for years. 1 know of more than one 
such series in which valuable works are 
issued. There are some excellent ones in the 
“ Riverside Paper Series,” representing ready 
famous authors as well as popular ones. Cue 
of Mr. Aldrich’s stories comes in this series; 
one of Hawthorne’s most famous and power¬ 
ful works; one also by Prof. Hardy, with 
more to follow. Roberts Brothers uad au in¬ 
viting list in paper covers last year, winch is 
probably continued; and the Lippincotts issue 
some very desirable things in cheap compact 
form. One would not buy many, of cuurse, 
in unsubstantial binding, but a lew, well 
chosen and carefully kept, are not amiss. 
WHAT AILS THE BABY! 
MRS. G. H. ROWELL. 
4 6 T^vO you think my little darling is sick!” 
I ) said Mrs. WatsoD, as she seated 
herself in a camp chair, on Mrs. Williams’s 
porch. “He cries all the time ; I do not get 
one minute’s rest in the whole ‘J4 hours; the 
doctor says he is well enough, and it is only 
a habit he has got into. 1 give him soothing 
sirup, but he does not sleep over five minutes 
at a time, I do believe he will wear me out,” 
and tho poor woman drew a weary sigh, as 
the little eight-months-old babe set up a sieu- 
toriau yell. 
“He has strong lungs, any way,” said Mrs. 
Irving, “let me take him a low minutes and 
rest your arms. I wonder if the little tellow 
is thirsty,” and she carried him into tue din¬ 
ing-room, to get a glass of water, followed by 
his mother, exclaiming : 
“ Oh, Mrs. Irving, do not give him water, it 
will give him the colic, sure.” 
“ Not give him water I Why babies ought 
to have water, I always give it to mine. 1 
believe that is what makes him fret. Just 
let me give him a drink, and if he has the 
colic 1 will come and take care of him. Look 
here, see how he craves the pure cold water,” 
and the little fellow greedily clasped the gob¬ 
let, and drank freely. “ That is plenty for 
once ; I hope baby’s mamma will not thiuk 
that water will hurt him again ; it is better 
than a dozen bottles of soothing sirup ; that 
makes him feverish. I think babies often 
suffer for the want of water, their little 
throats get parched and dry, and when they 
are teething they have fever in their mouths, 
and they need water.” 
Hhe sat down with the little one on her lap. 
Mrs. Watson wiped the perspiration from her 
face, exclaiming : 
“ What a warm day ! J do suffer so much 
JTpm beat Miin fiupimer ) Tl.19 bfthy ?? 8 ? 
hot all the time. I declare he is going to 
sleep with you ! What a wonder ! 
“ It seems as if you had a good deal of cloth¬ 
ing on him for such a hot day,” and she raised 
the embroidered dress skirt, and then a ruf¬ 
fled cambric skirt,an embroidered flannel one, 
and a foot blanket ! She actually screamed 
with astonishment. 
“ Why, Mrs. Watson, I do not wonder the 
baby cries! You or I would cry and fret if 
we were bundled up in this w ay such weather 
as this. Poor baby! How he must suffer 
with the heat! And be ought to be in short 
clothes, so ho could kick and have the free use 
of his feet and legs. 1 do not wonder he cries. 
1 should in his place.” 
“ I hate to put him in short dresses: babies 
look so sweet in long robes I supposed little 
ones ought to be dressed warmly.” 
“ Of course, in cool weather; but I should 
not want to roast them, and such a weight of 
clothes must be burdensome too.” said Mrs. 
Irwin, as she adjusted the carriage pillows 
and laid the little fellow down on his side; his 
mother looking on. 
“Oh please, Mrs. Irving, lay him on his 
back, I always lay him straight.” 
“ What for? It is not a natural position to 
rest in. Babies always rest better lying on 
their sides, as well as other people;” said Mrs. 
Irving. “ He will not need anything over 
him, it is so warm! ” Sending back the bright 
Afghan to his mother. 
“ Why, you have such queer notions about 
taking care of babies, I hardly know what to 
think; it is all so new to me.” 
“ I have had a good deal of practice in 
raising little ones, and I have been quite suc¬ 
cessful too, and I think the best way is to 
keep them comfortable and happy; give them 
what they need, and what nature craves. I 
should take off this child’s petticoats, and get 
him into short clothes immediately. Give 
him cold water to drink when he is fretful, 
and do not give him medicine to keep him 
quiet, I do not believe in dosing little ones.” 
“I must go, but if baby has the colic re¬ 
member your promise;” said Mrs. Watson as 
she started the carriage off the porch. 
“ 1 will, but if 1 do not come till then it will 
be quite a spell before I return your call. He 
is resting very quietly, you see.” 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
T HE SUNDAY SCHOOL TIMES says 
that the Christian life is, in all its de¬ 
tails, a life of duty. Every act must be meas¬ 
ured by the standard of duty. We must, or 
we must not. If we have habits which we 
do not feel it our duty to give up, then they 
must be habits which we ought to feel it our 
duty to keep up. What it is not your duty to 
do, it is your duty not to do. 
Good Housekeeping reminds its readers 
of the fact that secrets are poor proDerty; if 
you circulate them, you lose the interest of 
your investment. 
Ingehsoll says that the source of vanity 
is from without--of pride, from within. Van¬ 
ity is a vane that turns, a willow that bends 
with every breeze—pride is the oak that de¬ 
fies the storm. One is cloud—the other rock. 
One is weakness, the other strength. 
Many a mother, by the usefulness of her 
life, fills her children with a desire to be like 
her, and this desire makes them in their turn 
unselfish. There are obscure men and women 
who hardly in their lives utter a word of 
preaching, yet by their example, they do 
more to make people around them gentle, 
truthful and Christ-like, than any 10 who 
preach but do not practice. It is not those 
who talk about goodness, but those who are 
good, that are the light of the world. 
Gladstone says that “Darwinism has 
not been proved to be anything more than a 
misty idea—the indefinitely shaped outcome 
of extravagant and idle theorizing.” Ruskin 
speaks of it as a “ dim comet wagging its use¬ 
less tail of phosphorescent nothing across the 
steadfast stars.”.... 
Nor did such a “ hater of ill-grounded old 
opinions” as Carlyle sfe anything reasonable 
in the theory. 
“ A good sort of a man is this Darwin, and 
well meaning, but with very little intellect. 
Ah, it is a sad, a terrible thing to see nigh a 
whole generation of men and women, profess¬ 
ing to be cultivated, looking round in a pur¬ 
blind fashion, and finding no God in the uni¬ 
verse. 1 suppose it is a reaction from the 
reign of cant and hollow pretence, professing 
to believe what, in fact, they do not believe. 
And this is what we have got to. All things 
from frog-spawn; the gospel of dirt the order 
of the day! The older I grow—and I now 
stand upon the brink of eternity—the more 
comes back to me the sentence in the Cate- 
nlnifiO YvhiobJ learnei] wljen fi and fchfi 
fuller and deeper its meaning becomes, * Wbat 
is the chief end of man s —To glorify God, and 
enjoy Him forever.’ No gospel of dirt, teach¬ 
ing that men have descended from frogs 
through monkeys, can overset that aside.”.. 
Contentment abides with truth. And you 
will generally suffer for wishing to appear 
other than you are, whether it be the richer, 
or more learned. The mask soon becomes an 
instru ment of torture . 
Mr. Moody has received from William 
Mackinson, Scotch shipbuilder, a model of 
Solomon's Temp e made of cedar, overlaid 
with gold, with many of the smaller articles 
of solid gold. It is one fifty fifth thesizeof 
the original, having the court, tabernacle, 
altar, laver, ark, holy of holies, mercy seat, 
and cherubim in proportion to each other.... 
Isn’t the Church too often looked upon as 
an ark ol safety rather than as a life boat to 
rescue tin pernhiug? Stanford says: Only 
the waters in the ship can sink the ship; but 
while kept outside, all the heaving deep 
waters thundering over three-fifths of the 
globe can work no shipwreck So, while kept 
outside the Church, the floods of ungodly in¬ 
fluence can only help to float it on its voyage 
of glory, or to lift it to its Ararat of rest. 
Domestic Cemtomij 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
What good to think and then allow 
Our gathered thoughts to slumber. 
And have our heads, like old cock lofts, 
A store for useless lumber? 
What signifies philosophy 
If we the while abuse It? 
Far better have Rood common sense. 
And know well how to use It.” 
A FEW OBSERVATIONS ON “TABLE 
MANNERS.” 
I HAVE often noticed that sometimes par¬ 
ents who are themselves well-bred and 
naturally refined will allow their children to 
grow up without some of the most ordinary, 
the very simplest tahle manners. 
One instance last winter in particular I 
recall in which the mother, an old schoolmate, 
a quiet, unpretending woman belonging to an 
old family, had always moved in good society 
and was surrounded by all the grace and cul¬ 
ture which wealth can bring. 
Hor daughter, a strong, healthy girl of 15, 
had without any exception the least idea of 
the table manners generally in vogue even 
among the poorer classes, in this enlightened 
day. As an elderly gentleman, who had no¬ 
ticed the bright, happy girl, fresh from an ex¬ 
citing game of lawn tennis, remarked: “With 
the right training she will develop into a fine, 
intelligent woman.” In the afternoon Maud 
had freely given us her opinion for woman’s 
position in the professions like most modern 
girls, and had declared her intention to study 
law. But at the dinner-table that evening 
Mr. Morgau’s illusions were dispelled, tor a 
more gross, coarse manner than she uisplayed 
I have never seen. The child was strong and 
healthy, had an excellent appetite, which 
could nave been readily forgiven, save for 
her method of gratifying it. 
Meat, vegetables, fruit, sauce, jelly, sweet¬ 
breads, everything tbrough the entire list did 
she crave, together with bread and butter ad 
libitum, which, freely translated, means with¬ 
out a limit—she buttered her whole slice of 
bread unbroken. Everything within hor 
reach she captured. 
" How do you like my friend, Mr. Morgan?” 
laughingly asked the young lady of the house, 
as they strolled out to the tenuis court. 
His well-bred, kindly face lighted up with 
a polite smile, which hovered dangerously be¬ 
tween disgust and respect for the guest within 
her gates. 
“ Do you wish to know?” he said at last. 
“ My dear Mrs. Moore, your friend has a 
sweet, intelligent face and will make a grand 
success of life ( but, pardon me, her manners 
were—” the good breeding of his fathers for 
generations triumphed, and only a shake of 
his head finished the sentence. 
And I sauly acquiesced, knowing she had 
PisrfUaucouis gidvcrtijsiinfl. 
When Baby waa sicn. we gave tier Canton* 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castor!* 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castori* 
Wtyu jha hud Children the \t them C*etori« 
