Welsh Newspapers
Search 15 million Welsh newspaper articles
6 articles on this Page
Hide Articles List
6 articles on this Page
t: FEMININE FANCIES, FOIBLES,…
News
Cite
Share
t: FEMININE FANCIES, FOIBLES, AND FASHIONS. o BY" MURIEL." tILL RIGHTS RESER VED. BODICES GROWING LONGER AND LONGER. English women still affeot the long basque bodice that, as a rule, is so detrimental to their appearance, making tall, angular women look like giraffes, and cutting off, in seeming, inches which short, stout women cannot afford to lose. This sounds anomalous, but it is not so in reality. It is strange how few women appear to choose what is individually Becoming. They hear that a certain style is to be worn, and none other suffices; or they read that a particular material is fashionable, and straightway—irrespective of all personal cOllsidera tions-rush to buy it. To be strictly fashionable at the expense of her lo ks is a mistake that no sensible woman ever makes. As a rule, Englishwomen's figures are less rounded than those of Frenchwomen. Some of the former are angola; others are dumpy. There seems to be no strictly national type as in Frai ce, where that which becomes one woman will, probably, suit the majority but suppose a distinctive characte- ristic, the possessor will bo sure to turn it to account, or otherwise adopt some style of dress that will by no means exaggerate what is in itself defective. The deep basque, whether of lace or other fabric, does not improve the plump, diminu- tive figure of the daughters of France.. So they eschew it, and wear a far more becoming corsage, cut with short, sharp po;-n- back and front, the edge being outlined with a narrow ribbon, which erds in a smart little bow and ends falling to the heels. The ribbon is brought to a point in front, when the bodice is finished in some other way. It is customary to tie a long length of ribbon velvet round the neck, the loops and ends n falling low on the back of the skirt. This is a revival of a long abandoned fashion. Indeed, it was contemporary with crinoline. Some dressmakers are cutting basque bodices to reach the knees, a fashion that would seem to point to the return of double skirts. The long three-quarter double-breasted coat I have spoken of earlier is an outcome of these elongated bodices, for nothing in its way looks worse than a jacket shorter than the basque of the bodice over which it is worn. UnlIke the long coat, which reaches to the feet and gives the appearance of height, the three-quarter garment absolutely dwarfs a short figure. J FEW CAN KEEP PACE WITH FASHION. The frequent changes of fashions from one style to another diametrically opposed to the former is a source of great anxiety to people of small means. It is almost impossible to keep within reason- able distance of Fashion, far less keep pace with her. So long, however, as she exhibits such erratic movements, it is advisable that women who have only a small dress allowance should refrain from buying anything that is'very expensive, with the idea that it will "Iast for years." This sounds like a contradiction of my usual teaching- that the best you can afford is generally the most economical in point of wear. My maxim still holds good in respect to most dress fabrics, for their style can be altered from dme to time to meet changes of fashion, allowing that the pattern is not an obtrusive one. As regards under-wear, furniture, and the like, the best quality is, undeniably, the best in most senses. But at present it is dangerous to pur- chase an expensive out-of-door garment that will not readily wear shabby, unless you are possessed of independent means or happen to be independent of other people's opinion. The first situation permits you to cast off the garment when it ceases to be fashionable; the other makes the wearer impervious to remark on the cut of her clothes. Apropos to this, a friend of mine last year bought a most expensive seal coat, at that time much larger in the skirt than most of its contemporaries. Had fashion dictated the curtailment of basques instead of their present elongation, my friend had been able to keep pace, but now she is really in a difficulty. The only way to lengthen a short coat is to add a basque, but if the material cannot bo matched, 1 hardly know what to advise by way of improvement, Unless it be a deep basque and sleeves of astrachan. Imitations of astrachan and Persian lamb are often good and unpretend- ing, being quite free from the meretricious appearance which is characteristic of imita- tions generally and furs in particular. A good seal coat is best left untouched. Its ,costlincss will enable it to pass muster, since few people can afford a seal coat every winter. LAST YEAR ASTRACHAN THIS YEAR FURs. Furs proper were little worn last year, it we except astrachan, on which there was a great run. At this season furs appear to have re-gained all their popularity. I am told that rough kinds are give precedence to smooth and shiny furs—sable, marten, seal, skunk, otter, beaver, and the like. Be this true or not it is certain that, rough furs, as a .rule, are most becoming. As is the case with dress materials, a shiny surfaoe seldom proves so becoming to the wearer as unfaced goods. WE TAKE No THOUGHT OF THE MORROW. Time was when the purchase of a set of furs, of a dress, or of an out-of-door garment was a matter of great weight and importance, necessitating much deliberation. The price given for articles that would last, and were meant to last, three generations or more pre- supposed coiisiderable"outlay and the exercise of careful discrimination, such as the wife of the immortal vicar displayed in her choice of a gown. Similar consideration fetters our choice now, but in a different way. At the close of the nineteenth century we do not hand down our wardrobes as heirlooms, nor even endow the next in succession with them. Fashion and the manufacturers forbid it, and we have no disposition to show ourselves pos- sessed only of a set of garments that none but an antiquary would set store Ly. Thus our taste inclines to less durable goods, necessitating frequent changes. Succeeding generations would go poorly clad, indeed might be driven to the primitive dress of coats of skins, did their clothing depend on present manufac- tures only. Some of us are delighted pos- sessors of chests of the most exquisite bro- cades, laces, &o., in which our g, eat-gi and- mothers lived, loved, suffered, and departed. They are practically priceless, for none like them are for sale-not often at least. At first eight we turn these relics over with a tender reverence, born of their association with the domestic history of our dead forbears. This quaint jewelled glove, for example, covered a now vanished hand that fan fluttered in it a snowy bosom rose and fell beneath the envious veil of this yellow lace scarf. This brocade, stiff enough to stand alone may have rustled softly as the youthful wearer tremulously responded to lover's caress, or by its harsher frou froto have proclaimed the dangerous proximity ol their mistress to the delinquents in buttery or still-room. This is by no means f reverential age, and, though the owner of th( oak coffer may at first grow sentimental ovei its contents and touch it with reverent bands, she, being of this generation, is surf o be practical and will not fail to tnrn the treasure to account for her personal adorn- ment, forgetting that she by so doing deprives those who will come after of the gratification she herself has experienced before she made a modern vest or other gar- ment out of the Pompadour brocade or cut the rare old cobweb-like lace to make a fashionable steinkirke, so that the little Philistine goes on her way rejoicing, it is a rare quality, that of self-denial exer- cised to benefit those who come after us, to forego positive and present pleasure, or other satisfaction, in order that our own descen- dants or the descendants of others may reap prospective advantage of any kind. Were probability certainty, then there would be less merit in the sacrifice; but it is deplorable to find such abnegation result in mischief and wrong-doing. Parents sometimes deny them- selves greatly in order to leave their children wealthy. Not infrequently they, like the prodigal in the Scriptures, when thay come into their inheritance, waste their substance with riotous living, are none the better, but rather the worse, for the generous impulses of their progenitors. FOR OCTOBER. I must cease to moralise, however, and give some particulars of prevailing modes. The weather prophets have come to the fore with a prediction of a month's fine, genial weather. May it be fulfilled. Some of our dressmakers seem to anticipate that October, at least, will be dry and warm for the time of the year, and have, consequently, made some rather smart gowns, which are worn out of doors with no other addition but a fur, or feather boa, or with a pelerine of fur, neither of which conceals the elegance with which the bodice is cut. Thus, for example, a navy serge dress, with skirt cut with one seam, gored so much that all fullness is taken from the waist, though there is considerable amplitude at the hem, and the short train rests a few inches on the ground. There is an improvement in the make of skirts or rather of skirt bands. The method will prevent that unseemly division so frequently apparent when bodices or jerseys are detached. The waistband, though meant to conceal the division, rarely succeeds in doing so. The better way is to put the skirt into a band 2in. in width, the fastenings being on u either side and none behind. AN IMPROVEMENT IN POCKETS. The slits at the sides must not come too forward, and to prevent gaping should be neatly buttoned under a narrow flap, or the apertures may be used for pocket holes, and one of the difficulties attending modern fashion be removed, for pockets in the posi- tion described would be very accessible. The skirt band being fastened on either side, the upper waistband finds a secure foundation, and no unseemly gap is likely to appear when the blouse bodice is put on and the ordinary pocket hole is existent. Mrs. Willard, wife of the well-known actor, introduced the improvement, I believe. To return to the description of the serge gown, I have to tell that it is made with the front shaped exactly like a gentleman's waistcoat, only cut rather longer. This is serge, the back and sleeves are of blue surah, and the former is drawn in at the waist by means of ribbons attached to steel buckles, in close resemblance to the means supplied by tailors to tighten or loosen a man's vest at the waist. It is a curious oonceit, but, being novel, will probably enjoy a certain temporary popularity. BRACED BLOUSES. Many blouses are made with Swiss oorslets and bretelles (braces) fastened on the shoulders with tiny buckles. IT WAS NOT ALWAYS THUS. Strong contrasts of colour are likely to prevail, and many new shades are singularly akin to such as were termed crude" when the aesthetic oraze for pale, indefinite tones com- menced. Colours seen in combination just now are somewhat startling—blue and yel- lowish brown, green and brown, red and brown, and so ou. BORDERS DY THE YARD. The tendency to confine trimmings to the extreme edge of the skirt is strengthened by the introduction of galen and appliques espe- cially designed for the purpose. Messrs. Petcy Robinson and Co. have some remarkably pretty borders of varied characters. AFTER THE UMBRELLA. The H umbrella," so-called, is another fashionable skirt. Three yards and a half of very wide material is sufficient to cut one. One yard and a half extra is required for the jacket or coat. In short, six yards of double- width cloth will make any of the fashionable gowns. THE LAZY WITX NOT I?ELISH THE CHANGE. Though rather early in the autumn, devotees of Terpsichore are anxious to attend her rites, and not a few small and early dances have already been given in town. There is always a certain satisfaction in being the first to provide a popular entertainment, and it is sure to be doubly welcome to the lovers of dancing who have bad little lately of this favourite exercise. The languid motion which is all that is possible in aense^- crowded rooms in warm weather is not to be called dancing, and here, par parenthesc, let me add that more vigorous movements and a certain attention given to steps are re-placing the drowsy, indifferent, and languid per- formance which was only an apology for dancing. THE EMPIRE STYLE FOR THE YOUNG. Young girls look very well in the Empire style. That means a very short, full, round- waisted bodice, with a soft silk sash tied round the figure, terminating in a butterfly bow and long ends at the back. Of couise, such a style is only becoming to girls in their first youth. A dress of this kind might be made in pink silk, veiled in embroidered silk muslin faintly tinged with pink. SILK UNDERSKIRTS. I observe that silk underskirts with net or mousseline overskirts are likely to be popular. To JUDGE BY APPEARANCES. There is a pleasing simple elegance about a dress of Indian cashmere made in the Empire fashion, and trimmed with gold fringe and beetles' wings. So far as it is impossible to jud^e from present appearance it is likely that ball dresses will bo chiefly made of silk, brocade, and other si ken fabrics. CHARMING. Quite young girls wear figured silks. A pretty toilet for evening wear was of white silk sprigged with red flowers, made with bodice and paniers of red sIlk to match the I flowers. A oharming dress and quite Watteau-like," was the universal opinion passed on it. A dress of white silk made ) with a bodioe of white velvet brocade, with loose fronts opening over a full vest of canary colour silk, was a very charming quiet dinner [ dress, and could be worn at theatre or conoert. There is much economy in these silk gowns, for though the outlay at first may exoeed that were net, tulle, and similar textiles purchased, r it is certain that silk wears three tiwes as b long as those flimsy stuffs, and is convertible j to many uses and in many ways after its first ofreshness is lost, One evening's wear M sufficient to ruin completely muslin, net, and! tulle, should there be no foundation of silk. WHEN WELL DONE THE EFFECT IS ADMIRABLE. Not a few young married ladies prefer velvet for their dinner gowns. Some are handsomely trimmed with jewelled bands. Corslets are embroidered with imitation gems wrought in with gold or silver thread, and there are other and like jewelled effeots which light up admirably at night, and, if judiciously selected, have none of the meretricious effect whioh bad taste displayed in excess of decoration and ill-chosen colours must inevitably produce. I remember seeing a large picture of Macarts—I think it was a group of Venetian dames dressed in velvet robes, gorgeous with jewelled embroidery. I wish that it were possible to describe the effect. At this distance of time I will not attempt it but I almost think the embroiderers employed in "home art work" supply lengths of jewelled galon, both wide and narrow, by way of patterns, so that copyists could carry on the design with happier resultagiihan are usually obtained at present. It has been said, with some justice, that amateur embroiderers select gems too large and too bright, and that they group their colours badly. I consider that jewelled embroidery might be made an artistic feature of evening dress, but I confess I have no desire to see it become so until workers in this class of embroidery learn that excess of colour does not necessarily mean beauty. Some of the best stained windows in our places of worship might be studied with ad- vantage in relation to the disposal and arrange- ment of colours. ANOTHER REVIVAL. Writing of evening dresses, I have to chronicle the fact that long discarded beithes are to be worn again, not only to outline low- necked dresses, but to trim the shoulders of high fitted bodices. SLEEVES CHANGE TOO. For morning costumes sleeves are wide and full to the elbow. The long cuff or lower half is tight and usually of velvet; it opens up to the elbow and is buttoned with very small silk buttons. HORTICULTURAL. I may remind my readers that if they wish hyacinths to flower at Christmas now is the time to pot I he bulbs or otherwise to place them in glasses, as may be. The water should barely touoh the bulb. Whether planted in earth, mould, or water, the hyacinths should be kept in a oool, dry place and in the dark for at least six weeks before being brought into the light, else the leaves may spring into luxuriance before the roots are duly established. To avoid disappoint- ment procure your bulbs from a trustworthy florist, and to ensure a succession of flowers the bulbs should be planted in order to meet that requirement. As the hyacinth blossom lasts about a fortnight the inference is obvious. Few lovers of the indoor plants that blossom in perfection in winter without the artificial heat of a greenhouse remember that laurus- tinus is a most generous giver. The shrub should be early placed in tubs or large pots, and its orop of purely white, sweet-scented flowers will more than re-pay any trouble bestowed. The aralia is a very handsome foliage plant, but a flowering one is always acceptable, and especially so when flowers are rare, PLANTS RAISED WHILE You WAIT. Last week I mentioned a sort of magic de- velopment of salad seeds, and, by a strange coincidence, soon afterwards I came across the following description in the (i Year Book of Faots" of flowers forced into bloom in much the same miraculous manner "A group of geraniums and arose tree were planted in two rather deep boxe, of garden mould previously prepared with some chemical manure, afterwards b .jng covered with gla.5 shades. Mr. Herbert pioc eded to pour over the roots from a imiall watering-pot a chemical mixture which ciuscd great heat, as shown by an intense steam of vapour rising and evolved within the shades. Thi, was nllowed to some extent to escape through a ventilating hole at the top, which at fitst was kept closed. The effect upon the geraniums was almost, instantaneous, the buds bursting in less than six minutes, the plants being in full bloom in ten minutes, and the blooms were gathered and distributed by the exhibitor to ladies present." To day, when we hear so much about Mahat- mas and miracles, we may surely believe what has been so confidently asserted, that all such apparently occult demonstrations are reducible to causes very easily accounted for. Possibly the great Indian trick of raising a date palm just under the nose-a trick that a very quick- witted friend of mine, lately returned from India, bore witness to and believed in—is accomplished by some such means as 1 describe above. A friend who looks over my shoulder relates, apropos to the matter,that she recently read an account of a photograph taken under the circumstances. With his own eyes the artist saw the palm raised by the conjuror, but the photograph, while faithfully re-pro- ducing all the other features of the scene, showed no sign of the miraculous growth. The idea started is that the spectators were hypnotised—that under the influence of that power they imagined they saw what had no actual existence. To Correspondents. "MARJORIE S.Fur afternoon tea you might use Montpelier butter as a variation, but, of cour*f, not banishing bread and butter of ordinary kind. Pick the leaves of a quantity of watercress, mince its finely as possible and dry in a cloth, then mince still uiore finely; knead withns much good fresh butter as the mince will ttlke up, adding a little salt; spread oil bread as usual, and garnish ilie slices with spay" of watercress. For ea'ing with cheese work the mixture into b d!s the size (,f blidi' eggs, and add salt, and pepper to taste. Chopped celery may be substituted for the cress. "DORA."—Mushroom scallops are made as fol- lows :-l'ake good mushrooms peel and soak them in lemon juice. Have ready a while sauce, into which half a lemon has been strained; add an eggspoonful of mushroom ketchup. Take the soaked mushrooms and stew them very gently in the sauce; when tender, put into scallop shells; cover with bread crumbs, and p ace small pieces of butter at the top biown with a red hot salamander or hot kitchen shovel. Another savoury is mushroom omelet. The mushrooms are minced and mixed with the egg, and fried in the usual way. Or they can he made into a puree, with butter, pepper, salt, a little milk, and a drain of mushroom ketchup; a pinch of flour may be stirred in to give consistence. When the omelet is ready insert the mixture between the folds. An omelet pan is almost indispensable. It must never be used for other purposei, and should rarely be cleaned, but just wipedjwith a drv cloth after use, and set carefully aside wrapped in paper to keep from dust.
[No title]
News
Cite
Share
A young man at a party was talking very big about his knowledge of human nature and his insight into character, adding, I can tell at the first glance what other people are think- ing of me." Universal astonishment until.a lady broke silence with the words, How very disagreeable that must be for you."
Advertising
Advertising
Cite
Share
THROAT IRRITATION AND CoucH. -Soreness and dryness, tickling and irritation, inducing cough and anectlng the voice. For these svmptous use Epps's Glycerine Jujubes. In contact with the glands at the moment they are excited by the act of sucking, the G1 vcerine I n theseagreeable confections becomes actively healing. Bold only in boxes 7M„ tins Is. ltd" labelled JAMES Epps & Co., Homoeopathic Chemists, London." Dr. George Moore, in his work on "Nose and Throat Diseases," says The Glycerine Jujubes prepared by James Epps and Co., are of undoubted service as a curative or palliative agent," while Dr. Gordon Holmes, Senior Physician to the Municipal Throat and Ear Infirmary, writes After an extended trial, I have found your Glycerine Jujubes of considerable benefit in almost aU forms of throat dweajw." M'fill
Two Weddings. ..--
News
Cite
Share
Two Weddings. ft wtis the brightest day that ever anyone saw. My wedding day. The 1st of June, 1772. 1 never shall forget the day or the date. We were to be married in the little stone church on the hill-Ralph Hollister and l- and they had dressed me in my wedding dress, and bade me look at myself and see how pretty I was. Well—but that is not for me to say. Only I did not feel as if I knew my- self standing there all white, with a veil on my head and white roses in my hand. We couldn't get orange blossoms, and we were all glad, I think. I know 1 was as happy as the angels are in heaven. You should have seen the picture from our door. One side the green woods, the other the green prairie-like a sea it looked with the wind sweeping its long grass gently up and down, as waves rise and fall; and just 80 little houses and barns gathered together, and the stone church on the hill and the school- house below it. It was called Hope Settle- ment, and it was prosperous, and others were coming out to us shortly, and in so small a place we were all friends, and everyone was bidden to the wedding,. and everyone came. We walked to the church, and I walked beside Ralph, and the rest came after, arm in arm, with many a joke and many a laugh. The minister and his wife and five little girls in white muslin gowns were already at the church. So was the old man who kept it tidy, and a wagon full of men, passing by us to clear a place farther on, bad stopped to see the wedding. Before we went in my father invited them all to come over and share the supper and the dance, and they thanked him kindly, and said they would if their rough dress might be excused, for they had no holiday clothes with them, and so we weut into the church, and then all were silent and reverential, and we two stood before our good Parson Tyler and promised to cleave unto one another, in good report or evil report, in sick- ness or in health, until death did us part; and the pastor kissed me upon my forehead, and my parents took me in their arms, and all the folks came about to greet me as a wife, and I was no longer Prudence Lee but Prudence Hol- lister; and away again along the footpath that cut a brown way through the green grass from the church to the settlement, every woman with her gown over her arm, every mau with his gun over his shoulder. No, f made no mistake. In 1772 men always took their guns to church with them on Sun- days, and at any time when there was a meet- ing there or a wedding; for, look you, there was never any telling when the redskins would be upon a plaoe. They were always ready to kill and to make prisoners. They revenged on those who would gladly have been at peace with all the cruel treatment they had had from wicked pale faces; and once revenge fills the breast of a savage it goes with him to his grave. Yes, it goes down to his children, and rankles in the hearts of his great-grandchildren. There is no forgiveness in a heathen soul. But Hope Settlement had been spared so far. We had been very quiet and harmless, it is true, but that was no reason. We were out of the way of the worst tribes,and not in plain sight of the paths they mostly took and we were not in terror, only prudent in keeping ourselves ready for defence and once home the guns were all stacked outside the door and we had our feast. Simple enough, but we were healthy and happy and not used to great dainties. They drank my health in cider, and they wished me all the happiness the world could give and heaven after it, and I then the dance began. We bad a contra-dance, and I led it with Ralph. I stood there smiling, joyous, full of hope, without a fear in my mind, when sud- denly from the orowd outside the door came a ory that froze the blood in my veins. The Indians! The Indians are upon us I clung to Ralph. The world grew black. before rne. Then all was hurry and bustle. The young women, white with terror, gathered their children together; old women cried to God to help us; men flew to tbeir weapons and, oh, the scene that followed But 1 will not try to describe it; I could not do it even now without losing my senses for the time, as I did then. I see the painted face3 of the fiends; I see my mother's eyes and feel her grey hair dropping from her comb over my arms as I held her close. "Your father she gasped. They will kill your father!" I dragged her down into the cellar below the house many of the women and children crouched there. We heard the sounds of the firing, the shrieks of the red fiends, the cries and groans of the wounded. One moment I cried JIalph I" The next, "Father How long it lasted none of us couid ever tell; but there was silence at last, and feet came over the floor and down the ladder to the cellar— my father, with his head bound in a handker- chief, but alive—able to walk. They had the worst of it! They had the worst of it this time!" he said, and fainted in our arras. And there were other men who found their women folk had clasped them to their hearts, but my Ralph did not come to me., I knew he would not from the first. I knew my doom was written when that orr-" The Indians are upon us smote my ear. Well, death bad come to some, and some were missing—carried off to be killed more barbarously, to be tortured before they died. My Ralph was among these—my Ralph. But many Indians lay dead also, and they had been bravely withstood, and had the worst of it in numbers slain, as my father said. All the village was in grief, for we were like one great family, but each mourns his own. I mourned Ralph—my Ralph. There was no hope of mercy, as the day had gone. They had left too many braves upon the ground to spare their prisoiieri, and yet it seemed to me, day by day, hour by hour, his a long while, as though Ralph might return. Not a figure came along the prairie or over the brow of the hill but I fancied it was h", until at last despair seized upon me. Oh, I leave it to those who have suffered as I did to know what 1 felt then. As for others, to whom such grief has never come, they cannot understand. God grant they never may, and while our hearts break the years go on all the while, and the skies are blue and the spring flowers bloom. How many moons grew full and waned How many dark nights through which I wept incessantly ? Ilow many harvests were gathered ? How many times did young flowers spring up in the young grass, and the winter come up with its snows and sleet- storms ? Enough to'make my elder sister's little daughter seventeen years of age—she was but ten on my wedding day-and to bring her to her own marriage eve. There had been weddings, of course, but not in our own family, and I had been to none; but now I must go to Annie's. The settlement was larger; the safety greater. The men were never without their guns, but they had had no reason to use them for some time. Did they know how the memories trooped upon me all that time when they were making little Annie's wedding clothes and talking of her happinest ? Just so they talked of mine seven years before-seven years before. I had put on a black dress and a widow's cap when 1 gave up all hopes that itatph was living, and nothing else seemed right for me to wear. My heart within me was like a luiiip of lead, but I said nothing. Only, as I climbei the hill with the rest I said to myself, 11 Ali,. if they only came here, following me in my coffin, with my hands crossed upon my heart, and that heart at rest, beating no more, aching no more—broken, not breaking, at last And ever in my ears I hear the words —" Ralph is dead; your Ralph is dead And could I be the same woman who climbed the hill with my hand in his, and my bride diess over my arm, and the white rose in my bosom? So happy So happy I Oh, so happy! Could it be I-a thing with a lump of lead for a heart and no hope of happiness while she lived ? And Annie went on before us on her bridegroom's arm, just as I went on that past day and we followed her into the church. The minister's daughters were mostly grown, but there they were. There was their mother, not as much altered as they. There was the good parson himself, with the great scar across his cheek that he had worn since the day he married me. Outside were the graves of the men murdered on my wedding day, and of one woman also whom they found dead in her dead husband's arms. It was only what I thought of every Sun- day, after all, and the parson began his ser- vice, and the words were said that made those twain one, and we had gathered about the bride, when suddenly the shadow of an Indian in his blanket fell upon the wall Ix. hind the low pulpit, and every head turned. An Indian stood there, his blanket drawn across his face, but about him he wore the tokens of peace and friendly intention, and he made a kindly gesture with his hand and knelt as though in prayer, covering his face yet more with his blanket. The redskins are treacherous. The men ran to the door, but saw nothing to alarm them. The brida's colour had all gone. As for me, I expected every moment to hear the hideous war-whoop. The men, each with his gun in his hand, encircled the kneeling Indian. He arose then, and his eyes looked into theirs. I am alone," he said. No one comes with me; and I come in love, not in hate." You do not speak like an Indian," said my father. "I have lived with white men; I have learned their speech," replied the Indian. Have no fear. I swear there is no trea- chery." He speaks the truth," said my father. lie held out his hand. The Indian grasped it. Yet he was an Indian, and we had no reason to do aught but hate his kind. And now we were on our homeward way, and I lingered a little to shed a tear, and sud- denly I saw the Indian at my side. His eyes only were visible under his blanket. You wear black clothes, squaw," he said. Why do you not wear white and blue and pink, like the others ?" Because seven years ago the Indians killed my husband, and I ain a widow," I said. But you are pretty the man said. "Some other man should have made you his wife." These are things not to be talked of," I said. Ah, how do I know but you are one of his murderers!" He shook his head. 11 Did you see the Indian who killed him ?'1 he asked. I answered him rudely and fieroely- No, but you are all alike. They bore him away to torture by fire and poisoned arrows. Oh, my Ralph, my Ralph Kill me also if you like, but do not talk tome. I loathe you all!" But the Indian did not move. Indians do not always kill prisoners," he said. "I knew a white man once who was spared and lived with them for years. His name was like your husband's—Ralph. Oh, yes they do not always kill them. I was trembling now from head to foot. HaIph 1" I cried. "Tell me where he is' Tell me where you saw him. Speak Speak Savage, have mercy at once Is it he ? I will go to him, if it is through fire Tell me He shrugged his shoulders. You would not know him if you saw him,'1 be answered. Has he so altered ? Have they disfigured him? A b, but I should know him and love him still r' I cried. No. You might meet him and never gut-ss that you saw your husband," he an. swered and turned away. A little spring was close at hand, he bent over it. I sat down upon the grass. I could no longer stand. Was he drinking ? No; he was v,'ashing bis face, and suddenly he wheeled about and looked at me, and I saw no Indian, but a white man. He threw away h s head- band and feathers his blanket iay upon the ground a white man stood before me. Don't you know me now, Prue ?" he cried, and I lay in his arms. It was Ralph—my Ralph, and I know how the blessed spirits feel when they meet their lost and loved in heaven. Oh! how could I live through such sorrow to meet such joy Has any other ever been so comforted ? What a day that was. What joy all seemed to feel. How good was God. How I loved him and all my fellow-beings. I was gladder than the bride, and young again, though the tale he told of his captivity and his longing for home made me weep. Yet he was with me again. Thank God, we are together still, though twenty years have flown; and it is now the year of our Lord 1792. In those days when we have both pissed away from earth they will ten our story in the town that has taken the place of our settlement; but I can never tell them why the Indians spared Ralph's life while the other prisoners were all killed, or why they were always good to him until the day of his escape, for that he never knew him- self.—Mary Kyle Dallas, in New York Ledger.
LORD BEACONSFIELD AND THE…
News
Cite
Share
LORD BEACONSFIELD AND THE QUEEN. A curious stcry of Lord Beiconsfnld is r, by Mr. L-bouchere in an article in this month's Forum. H, fen ing to the fact that his lordship was a persona grata with his Sovereign, Nlr. Lab'licliere says. "On his fbst admission to tier Court, it is rel.ited of him that lie assured her that he owed his success as an orator to a careful study of the i rinci Consort's spceche3, a'l of which he laad committed to heart; and his entire subsequent, int nvo.me with her was conducted in n like vein of O ient il hyperbole."
[No title]
News
Cite
Share
S) well have Mr. Bradlaugh's friends and ad. mirers aubscribed that only about £ 600, it appears, ie now required to meet Mr. Bradlaugh's liybih- tiop. The sum of £ 1.080 has been contiibuted to tije liqiiidation fund." The Jidn-i Lyall fund has run up to JE709, and the sale of Mr. Biadlaugh's library Ilao, so far, yielded;C550. (TRKAT SUKPBISE has been expressed by proies- sional gentlemen in the medical world throughout the kingdom at the wonderful curs effected by Wee E. Cooper's Rheuo in cases of longstanding rheum vtiam, where all hopes of a elli-c baù long before oeen aban- doned. The great success attending the sales of Rlieuo may be account-ed for by the fact that it is not offerpjl to cure every complaint under the sun, bnt i heumatisin onl v, in old andy011"*?-. ^I'lke". hitcrually, at regniar inter- vals, it quickly subdues the pains, and gradually, but surely, resto.-es the su-ferer to a healthy state. Evans and Co., 7. High-street, Cardiff; T. Cordey, Hh-h-stwr Newport; anatheCash Supply Company, PontvnrHrt' are the ^caUgents, and one 2s 9d bottle wm curJ mow cases. Also in boUles Is l|d and 4s 6d. Sent uost naid from 099, CoinmercLd-road, London, E. LcoS/