THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
57 
boys said it seemed like “ God smiling upon them as 
they bade good-bye at the gate.” They promised to call 
some day, and then hurried off home, for it was getting 
late, and they feared lest -their Mother should he woi- 
ried. 
That evening they expected a few of then school¬ 
mates to meet at their house, and talk over the plans 
for the exhibition which was to take place at school in 
a few days, so they decided that it would he a good 
time to interest their friends in the old man. A dish of 
rosy-cliceked apples stood on the table, and Charlie 
West was cracking walnuts as fast as the other boys 
could oat them. Mrs. West, a fair, pretty woman, sat 
beside the table with her knitting, and Speck, the tor¬ 
toise-shell cat, was lying asleep on the rug by the fire. 
“I say, Charlie,” broke out Herbert Lee, “who was 
that old man you and Willie were carrying wood for, 
this afternoon?” “Oh! a friend of ours; wasn’t he, 
Speck?” replied Charlie, stroking the glossy back of 
puss, who stretched herself in a sleepy way. “ What is 
all this about?” said Mrs. West, with interest, for the 
boys, supposing that no one knew their secret, had said 
nothing about it at home. “Oh, nothing much, Mamma, 
only this,” said Charlie. “ When Willie and I came out 
of school, to-day, wo felt in such high spirits, that we 
were ready for any kind of fun, and happened to find a 
pair of shoes hidden in the bushes, and I thought it 
would be a good joke to hide them away, and give their 
owner a scare, but Willie thought of a better plan, and 
proposed that we should put in each shoe one of the 
dimes Papa gave us. Then we waited behind the wall 
to see what would happen, and you ought to have seen 
him kneel down to pray wlieu he found the money. It 
made the tears come to our eyes, I can tell you. After 
he had gone a little way, we ran and overtook him. 
Then we carried his wood home, and that is the end of 
it.” “I am truly thankful, my dear boys.” said Mrs. 
West, that your second plan was carried out, instead of 
the first, and hope that tliis will be a lesson to you, 
never to play an unkind trick upon any one, or you might 
regret it as long as you live.” After hearing the story, 
all were anxious to have a share in giving some pleasure 
to the old man. So it was agreed that they should all 
pay him a visit on the following Saturday. “ By-the- 
way,” said Herbert Lee, “my father spoke a few days 
ago of needing some one to help, and, perhaps the work 
may not be too hard for this old man. I will ask my 
father as I go home, and tell you what he says, when I 
see you at school in the morning.” After a few more 
games the party separated, full of interest for the ex¬ 
pedition planned for Saturday. Herbert learned, to his 
joy, that his father had not yet engaged any one, and 
that if the old man should be able to do the work re¬ 
quired of him, he would employ him. Saturday came, 
a bright, pleasant day, and the group of eight merry 
boys, each one laden with a basket full of good things, 
started off on their errand of kindness. On reaching 
the cottage, they found the old man at home, and when 
they showed him all that they had brought, and told 
him of the work which Mr. Lee was to give him, he 
seemed fairly bewildered, and could scarcely believe 
that so much good had come to him. They convinced 
him of its truth, however, and his happiness gave them 
a pleasure that they would not have missed. Before 
leaving him, Charlie Lee told him the story of the shoes 
with the dimes, and said that it was Willie’s thought, 
and that it had been a lesson he would remember all his 
life, and never again would he allow the thought of a 
practical joke to enter his mind. Many a visit did they 
pay their old friend after this, when his working hours 
were over for the day at Mr. Lee’s, and they felt that 
then- joke, as they termed it, had proved of far greater 
pleasure to themselves than any that they had ever 
played before. Kitty Clover. 
Rooms belonging to rich and cultivated amateurs, are 
generally either over-furnislied or under-furnished. The 
objets de virtu, which have been collected at such pains 
and cost, because they are the fashion, have little reason to 
be where they are found, however beautiful they may be. 
They crowd the house till it looks like a curiosity-shop; 
or else they are frugally scattered with a palpable aim 
to seem to select, and their fewness and goodness 
carry a sort of self-consciousness and affectation with 
them. v 
Now, when we enter a room, the first feeling ought to 
be, “how comfortable!” the second, as we glance 
quickly around to discover why, ought to be, “how 
beautiful! ” not a touch too much or too little. The art 
is to conceal art, and when the first impression is that 
of hyper-refinement, just as when it is that of deple¬ 
tion, or of conspicuous wealth, we may be sure the room 
is not perfect. Directly affectation enters, beauty de¬ 
camps. A room should be treated, as much as possible, as 
a picture. In a picture, monotonous angles, as in paneled 
walls, would be judiciously broken by the shrewd intro¬ 
duction of some bracket shelf, or plate. Yet, most peo¬ 
ple still enunciate the angularity of panels, by stretching 
one square picture in the middle of each. If the panel - 
is of good oak, let us now and then see its fine fabric, 
unspotted by hanging things. But because one panel is 
left bare, do not leave all the panels without ornament. 
Suspend a handsome drooping object of some sort so as 
to break the lines a little without causing a disagreeable 
shock to the eye, or place some tall palm plant, so as to 
serve the same purpose. But plants, young trees and 
bushes are not often enough used and appreciated, even 
by those who love flowers. 
Beauty in dress, beauty in decoration, like beauty in 
architecture, largely rest upon character—the human 
soul within, about, behind it. Individuality supplies 
the interest, as in a picture. Harmony, like a charita¬ 
ble mood, is the other grand secret, an open secret, yet 
somehow as hard to find as genuine charity. To find a 
beautiful room, or a beautiful costume, is to find a 
human soul, for the heart and brain shine through tint 
and fold. Hence, how needful that a pure mind°and a 
genial soul should be clothed about with what is indi¬ 
vidual and genuinely their own, rather than with some 
concoction foreign to them, which may speak for itself 
an alien language.—Temple Bar. 
