Jfot Momni. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS FAITH RIPLEY. 
SO OPPOBTUNE. 
Down drooping to its nest of gold 
The day a parting kiss bestows. 
Far out upon the verdured fold 
The splendor of its blessing glows. 
The thrush within the orchard shades 
Pours out the tribute of his heart, 
And from the bracken ambuscades 
The voiecful echoes gently start. 
Almost, the reign of peace is won; 
The kino are at the oaken gate 
Where, fondled by the waning sun. 
The milkmaid’s tender call they wait. 
The kitchen door swings open wide, 
An imago treads across the Bill, 
And comes a voice like vernal tide 
Of some o’er freighted meadow rill— 
"Ho! Brownie! Boesic! Bonnie Bess ! 
Come home from out your pastures bright, 
Come take your mistress’ kind caress 
Aud give me of your wealth to-night!’’ 
Then toward her fond-eyed lovers three, 
A fairy maid, with tresses brown 
And eyes like hue of starry sea. 
Speeds lightly o’er the em’rald down. 
She sees not, close beside the gate. 
The farmer’s bronzed and trusted son. 
Whose honest eyes with joys elate 
The fairy form are fixed upon. 
She only sees the patient herd 
That silent in the laneway stand, 
That mutely wait. her overy word 
And 6treteh their necks to kiss her hand. 
” They say you have no heart,” she said, 
As Brownie’s neck she fondly stroked. 
And round the rugged throat of red 
Her finely-molded arms are yoked. 
“ They say you have no heart, but oh ! 
You answer ev'ry sweet caress 
With answers that do seem to glow 
With Love’s unspoken tenderness!” 
"You cannot speak, you Brownie, dear. 
But if your tongue could ut’rancc know 
You wouldn’t wod your love with fear. 
But let its fullest glory flow j 
You wouldn’t be as mute an he 
That sees niy love by silence bound. 
That meets my glances tenderly', 
Yet leaves my longings all uncrowned." 
" You wouldn't hear roe thus set. free 
My love, and let your heart to sleep. 
But then—but then—if you wore lie, 
1 wouldn’t dare to thus o’erleap 
All modesty and break the Bpell 
Of Becresy, as 1 do now; 
But it's relief, e'en you to tell; 
Oh! if he only' were a cow!” 
A scarcely noted fall of feet, 
A hand was on her shoulder lain ; 
"I’ll play' I was,If you'll repeat 
That pretty story o’er again, 
With all its show of pettings too, 
And that sweet noose about my throat. 
There, little one, come, please t<» do !” 
Perhaps there isn't need to note, 
If word for word she o’er-confessod 
The truth so innocently told, 
Or whether 'twas considered best 
To silent be, and seek the fold 
That offered her Its benefice, 
Buttbjs wo’ll venture, anyhow', 
The lipB that left on hers n kiss, 
Were not the chattels of a cow. 
[ Wade Whipple in Quincy Modern A rcrosy. 
---- 
FASHION NOTES. 
Ready Made Suits. 
Those ladles who have deferred purchasing their 
summer outfit until now, are to he congratulated, 
for, In view 01 tbe approaching “ close of the sea¬ 
son,” manufacturers are disposing of their stock at 
seductively low prices. Messrs. Lokd & Taylor 
In particular seem determined to give their pat¬ 
rons the worth of their money, three and four 
times over. The reputation of t he house Is a guar¬ 
antee that the goods will be as represented, (which 
is an Important Item,) while the prices Asked lor 
them are such as to make one marvel how, even 
In these times of cheap goods, any hrm can afford 
to make such liberal offers. 
Description of Cuts. 
TnE central figure shows a misses’ costume, 
composed ol plaided and plain goods. Pat tern of 
skirt is in six sizes for misses from 10 to lo years. 
No. 652T, price its cents. The overskirt—No. 6569, 
price 20 cents-comes In eight sizes. The basque— 
No. 6570, price 25 cents—comes also iu eight sizes. 
Girls’ costume, ornamented with embroidery. 
Price of pattern. 25 cent*—No. 6565. 
Boys’ sailor costume. Yachting flannel Is most 
commonly used In constructing this costume. The 
pa ntaloons pattern comes at 15 cents—No. 6469; the 
blouse at 2u cents—No. 6470, 
Boys’ costume, (shown In lower left-hand corner) 
of fancy casstmere, trimmed with velvet and braid. 
Pattern of pantaloons—No. 6496—price 15 cents; 
the vest pattern is No. 6496—price 15 cents; jacket 
pattern—NO. 6497—price 25 cents. Cheviot, cassl- 
mere, llannel or summer cloth may be used. 
Child’s plain dress, (shown in lower right-hand 
corner.) This model Is made of cambric and trim¬ 
med with lace-edged ruffles. No. of pattern, 6607; 
price 20 cents. 
No. 6C25. This costume is made of lawn and 
trimmed with Hamburg embroidery and ribbons. 
It may be made either high or low-necked, as 
shown In model. Price 25 cents. 
No. 6596. Misses’ deep round basque. These en¬ 
gravings Illustrate a stylish basque for a miss. 
Price of pattern, 25 cents. 
No. 6501. Boys’ single-breasted coat. This mod¬ 
el is desirable for cloth, diagonal, casslmere, 
Tricots, melton, Cheviot, or any of the fashionable 
suitings for boys’ wear, and machine stitching la 
quite as suitable a finish as binding for the edges. 
Farmer satin, alpaca or Silesia may be employed 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
in lining the coat, and canvas or Wigan for stlffen- 
lngthe fronts. 
No. 6569. Misses’ over-skirt. The construction 
of this over-Sklit is novel, without being at all 
complicated or difficult. All kinds ol suitings 
worn by misses will be made up in Mils way, wash¬ 
able and woolen goods being equally popular for 
this mode. Price of pattern, 20 cents. 
No. 6593. Girls’ blouse. All kinds of seasonable 
textures will be made up in blouses of this style; 
white lawns, pli/ues, jaconets and cambrics being 
particularly fashionable for waists to be worn over 
light or dark skirts. Price of pattern, 20 cents. 
No. 6466. Misses’ gathered blouse, with yoke. 
This model may be constructed of cashmere, me¬ 
rino, camels’-liair, bourette, or washable fabrics. 
If preferred, the blouse may be made altogether 
of plain goods. Price of pattern, 20 cents. 
No. 0-504. Boys’ coat. Any material in use for 
boys’ wear makes up stylishly by this model. Cost 
of pattern, 20 cents. 
No. 6499. Boys’ Suspender Pantaloons. The mod¬ 
el used for this Illustration Is the most fash¬ 
ionable shape of tUc season, and will be chosen for 
all kinds nr material. Price of pattern Is 15 cents. 
No. 6500. Boys’ Single-breasted vest without a 
collar. This shape is a desirable one by which to 
make up washable goods, such as linen. Marseilles, 
duck, <tc. Boys’ suiting of any kind also makes up 
stylishly by Mils pattern. Price 15 cents. 
No. 6607. Described above. 
No. 6559. Girls’ Costume. Tills pretty model is 
composed of pale blue cashmere with trimmings 
of Torchon lace. A pleasing contrast may be 
brought outlo a costume of this kind by making 
the center-fronts, the ornamental back-pieces, the 
pockets and pipings of pale blue and the remain¬ 
der of navy-blue, or vice term. Deep plum and 
pale bllie, dark garnet and primrose pink, dark 
green and cardinal or pale blue, seal brown and 
old gold, are also fashionable. Smyrna, Valen¬ 
ciennes, aud all kinds of antique laces are fash¬ 
ionable trimmings for materials intended for girls’ 
wear, cambrics, lawns aud pnjues arc as much 
iu vogue for children as at any previous season, 
and will be largely made tip In this model. Price 
of pattern 25 cents. 
No. 6600. GUIs' slip with Box-Plaited Ruffle. 
This slip lias a loose body and the skirt consists 
of a deep box-plaited ruffle, whoso joining seam Is 
prettily concealed by a gracefully arranged scarf 
of blue ribbon. Any material may be used for It. 
Price of pattern, 20 cents. 
No. 6620. Misses’ Polonaise. This stylish pat¬ 
tern is a charming mode for fashioning organdies, 
calicoes, lawns, cambrics, and all sorts of cotton, 
silk and wOOlen dress goods. Price of pattern 25 
cents. 
No. 6526. Misses’ Belted Polonaise. A polonaise 
of this style made ol Swiss, lawn, pique at white 
goods of any kind, makes a very pretty and stylish 
over-dreas to wear with a skirt of the same or of 
some contrasting fabric for holiday and gala occa¬ 
sions. The trimmings might consist of ruffles, 
lace or kulfe-plafflngs of the goods. For ordinary 
wear, figured or plain colored fabrics are, of 
course, more serviceable. Price of pattern, 25 
cents. 
All of the foregoing patterns come in different 
sizes; when ordering bo particular to state the 
age of the child. Faith Ripley. 
AN UGLY GIRL. 
(Continued from page 398.) 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
A SEANCE, 
That evening, while he rested after his un¬ 
wonted exertions, Herr RUdolsheim came to bear 
him company. He was received with unfeigned 
pleasure, for Noel never felt his loneliness so much 
as when the twilight, came; for it. was then that 
Illllian Gray had been wont to sit beside him, and 
with elieeri ul conversation, while the time away. 
Where was she now ? Perhaps sullenly rest nting 
his Interference with Clement Dunforth, to whom 
he could not help fearing that she had listened 
more confidingly than he deserved. What would 
she say, If she knew that he was not in love, but In 
a cruel endeavor to make her betray herself, that 
the wily lawyer had been seeking her? The more 
Noel mused over Clement’s avowal of his reasons 
lor the attentions he had paid this young girl, 
the more angry and indignant he felt. It. was 
base—it, was unmanly I Such conduct might be 
considered excusable by a few members of the 
profession for which Irene's betrothed was quali¬ 
fying himself; but it would never recommend Itself 
to a man of good and honorable feelings. 
Thinking thus, It was only natural to revert to 
Mrs. Estcourts’a too hasty acceptance of his propo¬ 
sal for herdaughter. If Noel had found It difficult 
to reconcile himself to this marriage before he had 
obtained any Insight to the character and feelings 
of Clement Dunforth, hew much more so did it 
become when he found him entering so readily on 
a course of action which must end either In t he dis¬ 
grace or unhappiness of a helpless girl 7 
Dwelling on these painful topics had not elevated 
Ms spirits, and it was, therefore, quite a relief when 
the chatty, sociable German came In. 
“ Jf I intrude,’- he gaily said. “ send me to the 
right-about; but just receive my credentials, Shall 
I call tiffs letter, which l bring you 7 Again has 
the fleet, noiseless messenger dropped one on my 
table, and Astonished me by vanishing ere 1 could 
behold Ms or her form.” 
Then .Miss Oarlsforde had chosen to continue 
the correspondence, and, -with an apology to the 
Herr, he hastened to peruse her epistle. 
To his vexation It merely contained an entreaty 
that ho would accept the stewardship of the 
estates, residing at the Park, and receiving such 
remuneration—If he still refused anything more-- 
as her guardian judged ft right to give him- 
“ You need have no hesitation on my account," 
she added; “ as I am In treaty for a house by the 
sea, which will suit me far better than C’arisforde 
Park. If you are in earnest In your proffers of 
friendship, you will close with this offer, -which I 
make with Mr. Blenklnsop’s sanction. Letrne have 
your decision by letter, or If you prefer It., address 
yourself to my guardian, with whom, of course, all 
tiie business details of this arrangement must be 
completed.” 
Then, as if by an after-thought, she had added : 
“Why do you wish to see me? Of what use 
would It tie for me to listen to expressions of sym¬ 
pathy and good will, the sincerity of which your 
own conduct forces me to doubt?” 
What did she mean by this? Noel could not ac¬ 
cuse lilmself of an unkind thought towards his 
hapless cousin, nor could he recall a word uttered 
to anyone during his residence at the Park, which 
could be misconstrued. Yet It was plain that some 
one had slandered him to her, and t hat, she cred¬ 
ited the i,ale. else why did she refuse him an oppor¬ 
tunity of justifying himself? 
Yet, setting aside the fftinoyance this note cost 
him, his feelings towards Ada Cftrisfordo herself 
were only those of pity; In spite or her doubts, 
she was eager to serve him and Ms, and evidently 
thought that, the plan she now proposed was one 
that he coidd agree to without his self-respect or 
his pride being wounded. It grieved him to disap¬ 
point her again, to frustrate such kind Intentions; 
yet Ms determination to decline—gratefully but 
firmly decline—was already formed. On no pre¬ 
tense would he be induced to connive at her resig¬ 
nation of her rights; It. would lie unmanly, dis¬ 
honorable, to do so, and he would never give 
anyone cause to call him either the one or the 
other. 
In musing over these things, he hod forgotten 
Ms visitor, until the Herr, in turning from the 
window, stumbled over an ottoman, and Noel, 
who had with difficulty deciphered the note, per¬ 
ceived that the room was almost in darkness. 
“1 will ring for llglffs,”he said, with an excla¬ 
mation of regret for hts discourtesy. 
“ Nay, 1 pray that you will not,” cried the Herr, 
who had found his way to a chair; “tills obscur¬ 
ity relieves my eyes, which have been severely 
tested to-day. 1 have been pouring over a manu¬ 
script, so faded, as to be scarcely legible, yet would 
I not lose a word of It, for the information it, con¬ 
tains Is priceless. Lord Carisfordc did a great 
work for posterity when he secured tiffs precious 
tome. It is good to be rich, but to be wealthy and 
intelligent ns well, Is better. Truly, he was one or 
the most fortunate of men.” 
“ And yet the daughter he leaves Is one of the 
most unfortunate of women,” observed Noel, un¬ 
consciously speaking his thoughts aloud, 
“You think so? You have much pity for tiffs 
fraulein , eh?’’ asked Herr ltudolshelm, abruptly. 
“ Certainly, 1 have. Who would not commiser¬ 
ate her?" 
“But this is what you English call odd—no, 
queer; or, as I should say, Inexplicable. You to 
speak thus, who have—our much-talking friend. 
Madam Hurst, assures me—refused, yes, refused, 
point blank, to make tbe young miss a happy 
bride 1 Pardon me, ir 1 repeat that it is Inexplica¬ 
ble t” 
“Not at all, mein Herr," retorted Noel. 
“ Nor would you think so, if your Informant had 
told you the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth.” 
The Herr looked curious, and not choosing to 
hear his .actions misconstrued on all sides, Noel 
went on to say: 
“ The late, viscount, by his will, gave me per¬ 
mission to woo Ms heiress; but he forgot thatln 
leaving her the whole revenues ol CarMorde, ho 
put It out of my power to do so honorably. Do 
you ask why ? Because I was, and am a needy 
man.” 
“And the lady; have her feelings and wishes 
been consulted?” asked the Ilerr, as he helped 
himself to a pinch of the snuff he carried loose In 
Ms waistcoat-pocket. 
“Notas much as they ought to have been!” 
Noel acknowledged. “I am afraid my own In¬ 
cautious speeches have been repeated lo her, and 
have aggravated her keen sense of her uneoraely 
appearance.” 
“Aml you despise—you reject her lor her un¬ 
handsome visage?” 
“ By no means. Miss Carisfordc has proved her¬ 
self so generous, so large-hearted, that 1 have 
loug ceased to think whether she Is ugly or pretty. 
But really, mein Herr , 1 am sick of discussing 
this subject. No one seems to understand that 
my objection to the marriage is simply: if I marry, 
It shall be for love, not for money.” 
“Why could you not have united the two?” 
asked the German, profoundly. “Is it not with¬ 
in tbe bounds of probability that tills fraulein, 
this noble lady might, when you knew her Inti¬ 
mately. prove to bo endowed with so many charms 
ofthenffnd, that you should love her for them? 
Aye, love her with that, absorbing affection, en¬ 
during as It Is respectful, ennobling the charac¬ 
ter of him who entertains It, giving him that 
* something to live lor.’ which Is needed to rouse 
the energy, to Incite—But, bah! I prate too 
much and too fast. You are a man of sense; you 
comprehend already the advantages of wedding 
a woman who could appreciate you. Why, then, 
I ask do you not endeavor to learn whether In 
Miss Carisforde tiffs second bouI Is not to be found ?’ 
“ It. Is too late,” said Noel, hastily ; “nor, under 
the circumstances, could l have sought her with a 
view to our union. But 1 shall never cease to re¬ 
gret that lam leaving Carisfordc without seeing 
her.” 
“ Why would you see the lady, if you are not 
prepared to make her the proposal of marriage7” 
the Herr Inquired. 
“ Because she has contrived to prejudice herself 
against me, and tMnks that my offers of friend¬ 
ship are made lu a mocking mood Instead of a seri¬ 
ous one.” 
“Eft, well, the fault, of that Is hers,” 
“ True; but think how peculiarly she Is situated! 
She shrinks from the cold pity of the world—she 
has neither Mother nor father to protect her. I 
cannot even feel certain that the one or two per¬ 
sons she believes to be her friends are worthy the 
name. How, then, can I go away—cherishing the 
deepest gratitude tor her generous efforts to enrich 
me at, her own expense—and not regret that her 
mistrust prevents me from proving that I would 
be as t rusty, ns true to her Interest as her only 
living relative should be.” 
“ Bee her, then, and tell her this. Speak to her 
as you have just spoken to me, and 1 think she 
must believe you.” 
“ But, mein Herr, your advice, however good, Is 
useless. The lady will not grant me an Interview.” 
The German hummed the “Watch on the RMne,” 
and Noel was again on the point of ringing for 
.Tephson, when Herr Rudolsheffn’s voice arrested 
Mm. 
“My friend, are you believer or skeptic? Do 
you believe In the affinity of souls, or the vagaries 
of the spirits? Would you mock me If I asserted 
that by the exercise of my will I believe that I 
could brl ng Miss Carisfordc here ? You are incred¬ 
ulous. I cannot, see your face, but. that exclama¬ 
tion tells me so. You think that I am boasting; 
and It Is true that I have sometimes attempted 
this, and failed; but, It is my firm conviction that 
1 could, at this moment., so Influence the fraulein, 
wherever sho may be, that she should feel herself 
impelled to come hither and reply to our ques¬ 
tions,” 
“ If you are In earnest—” Noel began. 
“ if ? Put me to the proof, should I fall, laugh 
at me for a charlatan; should I succeed, then you 
shall admit, with your Shakspearc, that ‘there are 
more things In heaven and earth than your philos¬ 
ophy dreamt of.’ Are you ready 7”—To be con¬ 
tinued. 
-♦ ♦ ♦- 
ABOUT POISONS. 
Some Important Facta Which Ought to 
be Generally Known. 
“ Poison : A substance which when taken Into 
the stomach, mixed with the blood, or applied to 
the skin or flesh, proves fatal or deleterious; any¬ 
thing infectious or malignant.” Our scissors make 
the first clip out of Webster for a detfffftton of the 
greatest evil as well as the- greatest good known 
In the medical world. For after the fashion of the 
old saying, “It takes a thief to catch a thief,” In 
public systems, so In the individual system If one 
poison has stolen away Into the net-work of veins 
by fair means or foul, there Is small hope of re¬ 
covering one’s own, save another poison he sent 
after it. 
All medicines seem to be more or less poisonous. 
But owing to the large doses those classed “ less” 
require to produce death or even deleterious ef¬ 
fects, they are by the mass of people regarded as 
harmless, for arsenic, strychnine, opium, chloro¬ 
form, mercury, and perhaps a few other promin¬ 
ent remedies cover all, to them, dangerous pois¬ 
ons. Yet we read In a dally paper of a child sud¬ 
denly' attacked by severe vomiting which the 
usual remedies falling to check, ends In exhaus- 
ttoiffand death; and the cause Is laid any where 
but at the confectioner’s counter, where the boy 
bought Ms candles and cakes flavored with bitter 
almond. 
“ The bitter almond Is a powerful poison.” A 
single drop of the essential oil on a cat’s tongue 
made a dead pussy of a living one In just five min¬ 
utes, by experiment. Some delicate organizations, 
especially among elffldren, can bear but little of 
t.Ms essence, the smallest quantity producing an 
eruption like nettle-rash, If nothing worse, and 
yet, macaroons are eaten and given to children 
to eat with impunity, wMle confectioners are often 
nowadays using, not the bitter almond, but the 
essential oil for their flavoring. There is a “ faml- 
Uy connection” between the bitter and sweet 
almond, bow close Is not easily defined, but suf¬ 
ficient to show that on some persons the sweet nut 
onouriablcs.lt eaten, produces an effect similar 
to that caused by the bitter almond. 
“ Fish poison is one of the most singular In all 
the range of toxicology.” Certain kinds of fish in 
hot countries are looked upon as alway's poisonous. 
Other kinds are only poisonous to peculiar consti¬ 
tutions, at certain tunes, and perhaps depending 
somewhat on the climate. The richer sort of ver¬ 
tebrate llsb, though actually eaten with perfect 
safety by mankind in general, Is nevertheless 
poisonous, either at all times or only occasionally 
to peculiar Individuals. This ract. is self-evident to 
many of us who have experienced nausea after 
eating white fish salmon, lobster, etc., at one time 
or another, and Instinct Is wise when It. heeds the 
hint and declines the poison in future. 
Lead poison we are more familiar with, as some 
members of our household are more susceptible 
than others to the lnjmlous effect of water run 
through lead pipes. But the poison tn tiffs case, 
acting slowly and subtly, Is usually classed under 
the broad, good-naturedly embracing term “mala¬ 
ria.” Those who work In lead mines or In any 
way with lead, and absorb its fine dust Into their 
systems, except, by the greatest care, sooner or 
later have what tn general phraseology Is called 
printers’ or painters’ palsy. The habit, of children 
to bite and wet their lead pencils Is often followed 
by serious results, which are more likely to be 
traced to a close school room and hard study tha n 
to the lead pencils, slate pencils and chalk they 
have munched on iff short intervals live days out 
of every seven. 
Another of the every-day poisons is found In the 
syrup which Is the leading feature of the American 
breakfast table. "The use or chloride of tin In 
glucose syrups has been proved by numerous analy¬ 
ses.” Think of that, oh, ye who Indulge In “golden 
drip” aud “maple syrup" on cold, wintry morn¬ 
ings, on your hot cakes. Beware ot any syrup 
that leaves a metullo taste In the mouth, lest by 
means of the sweet liquid your stomach gets a tin 
lining, and you, wondering why on earth you have 
i developed dyspepsia, conclude that It must fte the 
