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My lady friends of a certain age, I want a word with you. I w>lnt to put in a plea for caps. You have left them off, most of you—yea, evseh if dowagers and great-grandmothers—and it is by no means to your advantage. A" dressed head," as it seems to be called, is realty not becoming to those who on brow and Beck and cheek show more or less of the impress of Time. I tremble at my boldness, but yet have the courage of my opinions. Sweet little confections of ribbon, lace, velvet, gauze, and other materials can be concocted to suit every face and style, and surely your milliners will be only too ready and willing to make them for you. How often I cast longing glances at dainty-looking caps in certain shop windows, and wish I could purchase a score or so and shower them down on certain heads that I wot of I hear that the Earl of Fife is negotiating for Houghton Hall, in Norfolk, because Castle Rising, which he now rents from Lady Audrey Buller, will be far too small for him when he has a Royal bride. New Mar Lodge, Deeside, is to be pulled down, and a very fine new house built on its site. Mrs Dawson's dance at Hyde Park Gate was one of the most successful of last week. She is the daughter of the late Sir Michael Culme- Seymour, and widow of Captain Dawson, of the Greys. Noted in the crowd of about 350 guests were Lord and Lady Colchester, Lady jBedjngteld with her daughter in pale blue, Lady Jane Taylor and her daughter, Sir Michael Culme-Seymour. and Lady Seymour, Lord Sempill, Lady Cunliffe Seymour, the very pretty Mdlles. de Pinto Basto, chaperoned by Mdlle. Neves, Sir Hugh Miller, Sir Duncan Campbell, Mr Chandon, Lady and the Misses de Clifford, and Mr and Mrs Gordon Miller, &c. The Birmingham Post will not have it that Labbity is the head of the new Radical Party. If he is not the head, I should say "the more the pity," for he is certainly the brains. How badly off this mushroom faction is for men of light and leading appears from the fact that, setting Labbity aside, the Post can find no more imposing show figures to trot out than Mr Dillwyn and Mr Picton. These are the gentlemen, we are told, whose advice carries the most weight with their colleagues. Further, that when the Radical Com- mittee was appointing a u Council of Ten the senior membei for Northampton's name was one of the last to be added to the list. Somehow, this "Council of Ten has a curiously Venetian sound about it. There was, we know, once a Doge of Venice who tried to overthrow the Government in the hope of being made a king. Let Labbity overhaul his history, and remember Marino Fulivro. Everyone will sympathise with the revu! i .n of feeling experienced by Mr Frith, who, alter selling his Academy picture, "The New Frock," to a. courteous stranger, is immediately afterwards con- fronted with it under a new title, appearing as an advertisement of Sunlight Soap. The injured painter writes to the papers, the innocent soap- maker responds—quite unable to see wherein he gives cause of offence. It is really a hard case, and one for which, apparently, there is no redress; but artists must in future beware of courteous strangers who make ready purchases of pictures of children. I fancy Sir Morell Mackenzie must have been a proud and happy man last Saturday night. Does not a meeting like this make amends ? might have well been his watchword at the festival dinner in aid of the hospital which he himself founded in 1863. We all know how cruelly, how even brutally, the eminent physician has been maligned on the Continent for his treatment of the case of the late Emperor Frederick. And we all feel convinced that Lord Randolph Churchill's happily expressed view is the right one. Instead of shortening that illustrious life, the English physician both saved it and prolonged it, and was indeed the means of giving to Germany one of the best and wisest of her rulers. Some of the big, top-heavy-looking hats which ladies wear alternately with microscope bonnets are neither beautiful in themselves nor do they help to make their wearers so; but I have seen one that is very charming, and so, young ladies, I must tell you about it. It is wide-brimmed, of course, but not too wide, of a cream-coloured fancy straw, and the brim has stalks of green grass knotted together forms the lining of the brim, and a band of grass just raises the hat from the head over the forehead. Outside are three or four half-blown roses, crimson and pink, with foliage. The other day I found a lady at work with the queerest looking instrument, screwed on to a table at one end, and at the other fastened by a loop to her chair. In the centre was a sort of black frame filled with fine metal bars, through which were passed threads that reached from one end to the other of the whole contrivance. What on earth was it ? Why a Danish handloom, such as is used by the young princesses, on which can be woven fine wool, tapestry of mixed materials, cotton, or (best of all) linen. It seems that a lady has pro- cured the sole right of selling these ingenious little frames in England, and she gives a few lessons necessary for using them. I should think they will become very popular, as being much more practicable than the spinning wheels, which, after all, are effective properties," but little else. The looms cost twenty-five shillings each. At some of the evening fetes this year held in the open air, young men of the masher type appeared with ebony canes with silver crutch heads. As they promenaded up and down these exquisite creatures leant on the handles with im- pressive, half-exhausted air, as if life were too great a burthen to be borne without the aid of a walking-stick. The proper mode seems to be to hold the crutch in the right hand, and occasionally clasp the left over it, resting both heavily. Where there is a'large expanse of ground, or in the park when the side-walks are not crowded, no one objects to the young man with the crutch-headed objects to the young man with the crutch-headed cane; but at other times and places he is a dread- ful infliction. W.

MILFORD HAVEN REGATTA.I

CHASE OF THIEVES AT RUMNEY.

A STEAMER ON FIRE IN THE ROATH…

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BURNED TO DEATH.

----.-.------WALT WHITMAN.

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