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VERTISEMENTS.
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There is taany WroU ra lb Ki j
If we would atop to take it y ' ,-r
And many a tone from the better lain, f
To the snnny son! tnai umuU of Hope.
And ilue leaoU(n J nut r, fJtteiJi,
The gr&ial fallrelt I&fcW&ei tr3.are
bright,
Thoughrthe winter atortn preTafleth.
,1 .
Better to hope thongh the clouds hang
-- low, : --' :1T '
And to keep the eyes still lifted;
Vnr t Va an-oot lilrin kV V wilt Vifltt Wen
m - .......... --" v J "f
-thtfugfi:f '
W lien tbo eminooj clouds nre lifted , ,
There was neTer a night without a day,
Or an erenirig withont a tnorningf 5
And the darkest hoar, as the proverb
Coe,
Ik the honr before the dawnlnpf.
There is many a cem in the path of life,
That i licher far than the jeweled crown,
Or the miner' hoarded treasure ; ,
It may be the life of a little child,
Or a mother's prayer to heaven,
Or only a Wggar'H gratefnl thanks
For a cup of water given.
llvtlr to weave in the web of life
A bright and 'golden filling,
And to do God's M ill with a ready heart,
And hands that are read v and wil line,
Than to snap the delicate, minnte threads
Of our curious hrei asunder,
A,nd then blame Heaven for the tangled
ends, 1 y
' And hit and grieve and wonder.
Storji QTontcr-
'C;iovc. sir? Ves, nir. What
number ?"
The words fell VCth a tired sigh
from Xfre lipa of llw? younir girl who
tood beliind e counter, ami ennfed
.Douglas Lennox U take n second
look into the sweet-face, snd dark
grey e)C8 which met Ins fur the first
time. (
lending over the box of glores
xikj?i sho hd taken down fiff his in
tccIWu, the young girl sighw! agaitt,
ami Douglas hastily rose from tlvo
stool ion wlMi vc hai teeily droj
j-ttl. - l . " .. ..
'I ara aafeanral to lit- whn yow
are standing Iro saW 'I am sure
you muet bo very Urvd. Are yon
not?" "V
Tlie young girl wonM havx refu
el to notice tle remark rom most
strangers, upon any subject except
their purchases, but thcro are some
I?ople we Instinctivly feel we can
trust, and Douglas Jennox'ti kind
vice and frank, honest face effectu
ally dir armed resentment. She look
ed up and said:
"Hather tired. I hate been on my
feK all day," and the faint smile
which dimpled the corners of her
mouth, added, fn the young roan'a
eyes, to the winning beauty of her
face. . . - s -'
"B,ui surely yon can sit down when
you have a spare moment I" ho sid
some what indignantly.
Tho-young girl shook Jier head.
"No, not in business hours."
"It is a fchame," said Douglas. "I
have heard that such abominations
existed in our city, but I never really
believed it."
"It is allowed in some stores;"
said the young lady.
"Then why do you not leave your
place here, and go to such one ?"
aked Douglas.
She gaveariother faint smile. "If
you had beena shop girl for four
years and knew the difficulty of
getting a bkuation, you would not
aslc that question." Then hastily
pushing a second box of gloves
toward him, she added -in a lower
tone :
t"Mr. Sheldon is coming this way
I should lose my place hero if he
heard what l said. Please look at
the gloves."
And Douglas, not stopping to ex
amine whether he got the jjumber he
wanted or not, quickly selected two
or three pairs, paid for them andlefi
the store.
But he carried with him the im
age of the- sweet laced shop girl and
It haunted him, unaccountably, all
' day. ' : ' -
"Poor little tired thing I" lie said,
pittyingly,"I wish 6he was my sister,
and then she needn't work so
hard." ,
Once or twice he curled hia
haughty lip at the idea of. himself,
the aristocratic Douglas Lennox, who
was sole master of a handsome place
upon "tho Delaware, who counted
his money by thousands, and who
had been for several seasons the law
ful prey of all the managing mamas
and matrimonially inclined danh-
ieti h todtlf9 ahonld be 'wasling
o many thoughts on a little shop
I Xtst rt$ jw 4ristocraticV Lenflox
waJaiso dclBdcratic, and had no false
?olionst3u'the? disgrace of labor.
piInttleViibrt fMthe same
ebint" bonor in ldJ'luind that she'
rould liavebelcU'iad lsh leen a
qttnJ Xiflit.l- sill m tr t--t?,;.;-1
And weh, tnihef jpai 1f next mor-htnghe-tobk
his way to tho sanreT
store, Douglas acknowledged to him
self that his purchase was merly an
excuse, and his real object an hon
est inter es. in, s and ar warm desire
to see again, tho winning face
wli!ch had haunted him since yester
day, v' ' - :'.r -Thnt
she recognitffd him Dftuglas
felt surcvfrom the faint, sweet smile
which again dimpled the corners of
her small month. But ho said noth
ing except about the 'ood He
looked at her,however, with an
s . ---- -
early glance, of honest, admiration,
and whcn In rnaking the change,
her soft -hand, accidentally touched
his it sent a thrill thioagh hla whole
frame.
"Whew I" he saUl to himself, lift
ing his hat, and drawing a free
breath as he left the store. "Doug
las Lennox, I believe in my soul
you're captivated at lastl And that,
too, by a little shop girl whoso name
you Jon't even know t Wonder
what sister Bell would say 1" And
as lie thought of his stylish sinter en
tering that very store, and perhaps
trading with that very-little girl, en
tirely nrfconseious that her brother's
eye had ever rested admiringly on
tho sweet face, .Douglas laughed
aloud. v
Well, after the little speech he
made as he left the store, think you
can imagine about what followed.
It was astonishing how many little
purchases Douglas . found he could
not cio wilhouim the next low weeKs.
And from dropping in at any store
ho happened to pass, he only weitt
to one particular store. And it so
happened that if he was waited on
by any other than jonc particular
cleik, he had the blues all day in con
sequence. r..
' How earnestly he longed to learri
her name, nobody knew but himself'
He dared not ask her, and he di j
not know how else he should tt&rn.
But fortim fattrs th braTC,' yoa
know so one morning, while Ee was
basily stletting Bttmnmbrick. hand
kerchiefs from a box, thie proprie
tor of the store cam , up and ad
dressed her, calling her Miis Ro
mer.
. . .. .
Douglas flashed a quick, pleased
glance at her, and the color deepen.
ed on the youcg girl's check as she
met it with her eye,
"Miss Romer," he repeated"I am
glad 1 have learned your name, be
cause you remind me of my sister."
(Oh, Douglas ! it wasn't because she
looked like her ihen !)
' I have no sister?, or. brothers
either" said she, sadly.
"Have you not ?" said Lennox
pityingly, "i should be very lonely
without mine, though I have only
one sister."' Now that I have learn
ed your name, may I tell you
mine?" V '
, 'If you please,'' said Miss Ro
mer. - :
"If is Douglas Lennox, at your
service. Please consider the o wrier
your friend, Miss Itomcr," said
the young man, so giavely and
kindly that she could not be offend
ed." .
"Thank you," she said simply.
Then pushing the box of handker
chiefs near him, added "do these
please you."
Pcuglas was very quick to take
the gentle reminders which she
sometimes gave him, that he was
prolonging his stay, so he turned
jhis atUndon to the handkerchiefs.
It chanced that Miss Romer still
let her hand rest on the edge of the
box. It was a very small, white
hand, with little dimples at the joint j
and pink, shell-like nails ; and Len
nox, who was a passionate admirer
of pf etty bands, longed to clap them
in his. own, and press them to bis
lips. But ho was a chivalrous jren
tleman, and would no more have ta
ken any liberty with the humble shop
girl than with the highest lady in the
land. .. .. : . V V
j - About thW time Douglas took io
earljr mommg walk?,- which enerah
Jy led down Chsnnt street. - Wheth
er the fact that he occasionally met
Mis Romer on lier way to the store,
and once 6ttice; walked with hor,
had any tjiing to do with the matter
or not I can't say. 'But alter such
pccaion, I. do not know but that
the spirits of Mr Douglas Lennox
improved cunsiderablyuj. haur-ftA
Qxte .Sunday afternoon near sunset
Doughs, left a lively circle in his
sifter's parlor, and went out for a
quiet walk by himself ;r Ho entered
one of the parks, and was strolling
through the sunny, green paths,
when his heaitj;ave& quick bound
at the sight of a trim Jittlo figure
in blue, resting upon one of the sha
dyt seats. For a moment' he hes
itated,' then he crossed over and
spoke. '- - .
"Good evening !Miss Romer'
Miss' Romer rose with the Lady
like grace which had long ago told
Douglas that she was used to cul
tivated society, and returned his
salutation. And then they sat down
together, and yielding to the calm
Sabbath evening influences, they fell
into a quiet talk, naturally as if they
had been old acquaintances. -.
1 They talked of themselves, and
Miss Romer told Douglas that hex
home had been in New Haven, and.
her father" a gentleman . of , means,
who had lavished upon her, his only
child," every advantage which money
and taste 'could procure. She told
him mf the death, of her father and
mother in a single week, and how
her father's estate proved involved,
and left her penniless and alone
She told him how she had sought
for eottte means by wh.ich to support
herself, and how she had finally ob
tained the situation in Mr. Sheldon's
store) and kept herself in comfort
AuxLDonglaa told4ier that he too
was an orphan) only himself and
Bell left; but he touched very light
ly on the wealth that was his, lest it
ehould give her pain.
While they talked Miss Romer
dropped her fan, and Douglas, pick
ing it up, saw written upon tho plain
tvory handle the name, "Helen Ho
mer." .
Helen was my mother's name,'
he said revernetly.
Was it f It is my name, too,'
said Miss Romer, in pleased sur
prise. , , - .
I am glad it is yours,' said Dong
las. AncLhe fell to thinkin? how
often he had written his mother
name. ' 'Helen Lennox and how
much be would like to write it again
with an R between the names.
Thy sat very still a little while,
hardly talking at all, and forgetting
the lateness of the hour, until the
gleam of the street-lamps close by
startled Miss Romer.
She hastily rose saying, 'I did not
know it was so late. I must go
home at once.' ? ,
Douglas rose, too, saying, 'May I
accompany you ?'
She hesitated a moment, her color
came and went, and theu she said,
looking up with a pleading glance,
'I had rather you did not Mr. Len
nox.' Douglas flushed then, but 'ho ask
ed gently, 'Will you tell me why ?.
Helen k was silent, the crims n
deepening in her fair face, and pres
ently Dougla repeated his demand,
in a firmer tone, 'Please tell me why,
Miss Romer.'
'Recalls1, Mr Lennox, a young
girl in my position can not have the
friendship of a gentleman in yours,
without without-' she hesitated
and could not go on.
' Without making hersel f a mark
for idle and thoughtless tonjrues,
suppose yon mean V asked Doula.
with a dash, of bitternessin Lis
tOne. - - - - 'j- i 'i
She bowed her head in assent.
Douglas quickly asked another ques
tion. 'Miss Romer, I have sought
your sDciety a good many tiroes
lately. Have I been the cause of
any such pain to yon V ? -
Helen seemed deeply agitated; and
did not reply nntil the yonng trian
said entreatingly,Tell mtyMiss Ro
mer.' . ,
A .little ' she answered ' faihtlv.
then once more looking up at film
L with a pleading glance which tcuch-
ed Ids' heart;? she added i-Bttt .-I
know ;y tin did noV intend it vandal
have been trying alliiliiterening to
get courage to tell I yoij baV when
we part here, it jjiad IbUcba ., tor
gwt T -; .r-'frt'f i ---
; Tbe;yoiing man's rcsolation was
instantly taken. ri ii S
.'You sha.ll nottell; n)e.rapj snch
thing, for I do npt Jneajt to part
with yoat alliIttdHretahd what
3 on mean, afld I woUfn give." my
right hand yes, hiy life rather than
injure you. Bat I suppose even a
shop girl may have an honest lover,
husband, and a home. Miss Romer
Helen it I , offer you these will
you accept them ?'
Itelen Romer trembled so tKat
she was obliged to sit down again.
'You can not mean it,' she faltered
lOh, Mr. Ienox, dont trifle with
me "
Douglas sat down beside het and
took in his own one ot the little
hands he had longed so to hold and
caress. , 'God knows I would not
trifle with, yon dear gi. 1, he said
solemnly J.'and lie kriows I do mean
!t,as I never meant anything in my
life before. I hare loved you, Heb
en leV mo call yon ;so ever since
the flrst time I noticed you in the
stoie, and I have, longed to take
you away from your toil, and sur
round you with luxury I am able
to do this Helen, tcr 1 am wealthy,
thongh I would not tell you so be
fore.' j
'And I am only a poor giil, with
nothing to offer in f return said Heb
en, softly.
Nothing I you have the most pre
cious possesion that ever comes to
a man in the world you have a
woman's heart, ray darling ! Will
yon give me that?' i
And Helen, blushing deeply, but
brave and fearless in her confidence
lr him, raised her clear eyes : to his,
and answered :
'If you will takeit, Mr. Lennox.'
And Lennox, too deeply moved
to speak, drew her close to his heart
.as they sat in the thick shadow, and
pressed his first kiss upon her lips.
Helen's days of wearying toil were
over but she never forgot, while
reigning queen of her husband's
princely home, how his love sought
her out when sho was 'only a shop
girl.'.- - ;-"
And many a young gir! who stood
in her former Jxwjition foncd a true
friend and ready helper In the beau
tiful and petted .wife of Donglas
Lennox.
THE CAPTTS'S HE-
So many yenrs ago that time
seem a great sunset shadow, whose
thin, attenuated shape makes us in
voluntarily turn our eyes westward
hoping to rid us of the gaunt spec
tre, I was a feappy husband and fath
er. The prettiest dwelling covered
all over 1 with., vines, with j a garden
which was my chief dependence, was
our abode. The blue Rhine flowed
past it,, and I had constructed a lit
tle boat in which I rowed my Blanche
and her boy by moonlight, or on
soft summer afternoons, when the la
bors of the vineyard had ceased
My boy ! I recall his looks now, al
tho' there have been times when I
scarce remember that such a treas
ure had been mine 1-
Blanche was beautiful, not only to
my eyes, but. to all others. Taller
than most of the females of our re
gion, wttli a figure so full, yet so
lithe and pliant that every move
ment was perfect grace, a fair clear
blonde complexion, with large dewy
eyes, of the hue of ofr beloved
4lhine, and her lips like the red wine
of our rich grapes, how could she be
otherwise than beautiful ? To all
these accessories of happiness was
added a friend one who was very
dear both to Blanche- and myself.
Carl Reimer was my own cousin, the
son of my
falh
er 8
broth
er. whe
lived farther up the river. IHe spent
all his, leisure hours with, us, and j
was often domesticated with us, for
months, working with roe at the
vine dressing. He .'called BlancheJ
his sister,- and hHtle Carl, whxr, was
named for him,1seemeo!('as clear tol
him as if he had been his, own.
"K I cannot dwell npon these days of
happiness. though God knows the
were 'all that were of t?vef can be
mine. The TrttmpetVisonnd broke
all these illations and both Carl and
myself joined the Iegin, and ere
long1 Were fighting bravely in Al
giers. "I need not dwell upon tho
scene. It is painted on loo many
hvarle to need to 16 sTerolMcel.
Whether Carl escaped or not I did
notknow ; but 1 was taken prisoner,
and . in the gloomy cistle dungeon at
vigiers my 1110 wore on witnoutany
nolo of time. I kept no reckoning
of day or night. All was alike to
mt and I vegetated not lived un
til at laH when the disire of life and
liberty had almost faded from nty
heart, my prison doors were set
open, and I staggered forth into
blinding sunshine, and I was tcld
that I ws free I A friendly hand
was laid on my shoulder as I fell
back against the prison wall.
Come, come, my jKor fellow 1
said he, in my own native language,
and iw tones that brought the blue;
Rhine, and Blanche's dear voice, and
.ray boy's sweet prattle all at once to
my ears. He told me to follow him
to the seaside where a vessel was
waiting to take us home. -:
lie had been a , prisoner too, "and
occupied a -eII near ray own, as, we
found by comparing numbers ; 1 but
his light, cheerful) and almost care
less spirit had not been crushed like
mine In the dark, unwholesome at
mosphere of a dungeon. We had
been riding oritne dark blue sea for
many hours ero I came fully to my
self. Then I remembered all the
fierce struggle of that day and the
crnel wound upon my bead, which,
for a period, had shattered all .my
senies. My companion was a hus
band and a "father 'also j there was,
therefore, no need of withholding
ray enthusiactlc praises of ray
Blanche and her Carl. He sympa
thised with 'them all, and give me
rhapsody for rhapsody. O, the long
ing to be at home by' my own fife
aide, once more. Feeble, worn and
wasted, t thought it I could but ex
perience a few days of care and ten
derness from Blanche, I should ex
pand into new life ; I was like a
plant which is kept from the light of
day in a cellar, and which can only
be restored by warmth, sunshine,
and loving hands to tend it. As we
neared home this longing grew so
intense that the least mention
ofbomeaetme to quivering with
emotion. - I could not eat cr sleep,
notwithstanding my desire to grow
well and ttrong, so as to shock my
wife with the change in me. My
friend tried to CAlm me and to talk
of our comrades. I arked him if he
knew Carl Reimer and had not
learned his fate. He knew him well
aud had been a neighbor at home,
iind had seen him several times in
I the engagement fighting bravely.
He was so reckless "that it was not
unlikely that he had not escaped the
fate of many who lay stretched up
on the battle-field that day, or it
might be that be was one ot theory
and gallant troop trtat' marched
home after the battle, t gladden the
hearts that had been weeplug tears
of blood in their absence.
I still wore my wan and wasted
look when we landed. I find no
money, aud a long march for one so
feeble as I was, lay before mc. I
cut a staff from the first oak that t
Raw, and traveled on nntil my
strength gave way, and I threw my
self on th grass hr the shadow of
some trees that protected me from
the sun and slept long and heavily,
in that sleep I dreamed of a happy
meetit.g with Blanche. My pillow
of dried grass gave place to her bos
om, the dews that were now falling
upotf my fade were converted by the
magic ef sleep into the tears and kiss"
es of my wife and child.' That was
a happy dream i I Would fain sleep
to wake no. more if I could but
dream it again. When I rose up
asrairt it Was almost night. I felt
sore and lame from sleeping in. the,
dew so long and gladly accepted the
offer of a Cottager who seeing ray
state, asked! roe to stay all night un
der his, roof. "Our brave1 soldiers
deserved to be welcomed," said the
old man, and when he fdntedto a
sword! that hung over the fife-place,
witablack- ribbon and a soldier's
cap' hanging from its hilt. " "It was
L my only son," he said weeping,
The dame showed me to a por
but clean elunnberpwhere'I stretched
my weary limbs on a bed Cor the
first time for a long, long while. I
slept but tittle, but when I - did,-niy
ifternoort dream came flitting back
to me, and, like an angel visitant, it
jbrought hope and joy to a baom So
long weighed down with' sorrow.
The next morning I resmned my
slow march homeward so skw that
althougbrnot far from our village, I
.was uuabfc to walk thither until the
night was fairly set in. How I
trembled as I w ent up the P.tt'e alopc-
that led to our door! I had
posely come by a back road, so a? j
not to meet any one whom I knew.!
I could not hear tidings of my fain
ily from passing strangers. Through
the opening in the viua leaves, I naw
a cheerful- firelight shining brightly
and making groat shadows on the
clean white wall. What if Blanche
were dead, aud these were stran
gers who sat at ray hearth-stone. I
shuddered and turn sick. The win
dow was too high for me to see
within the room, and I staggered up
to the door, and with a wild, des
perate wish to know tho worst,!
opened the door and stood a poor,
weary and foot sore stranger within
my own walls.
Blanche was there with a baby in
her arms, sitting by the fire, and be
side her stood Carl Roimer ! ! So
earnestly vere they talking that they
Miad not heard my, quiet entrance.
The baby was cooing but its soft
notes, and Blanche was singing the
same old melody that I had heard so
often over little Carl's cradle. She
looked up to ReimerV face with a
sudden smile of fond regaid. Lln-
gferingly, slowly came the bitter,
truth. Had it come faster it had
been Well, tor then I must have died
underjthe .sfiock, saw it all now.
Tbey saw-rae too, and under all the
changes knew me. She sprang up
with a wild shriek and a face that
was blanched with a raaible white
n ess.
Why do we even seek to describe
such moments!
I sat down, for I could not stand,
and there by the fitful firelight, thoy
told me how it came about. Carl
had returned home with tho troops,
ancl the comrade who marched next
to him told him of my death. He
had seen me, as he supposed, lying
dead upon the field in the hottost of
the combat. Carl mourned like a
true friend and 'was absolutely una
ble tor many days after his arrival to
bear the tidings to Blanche. She
heard of his return, and went, lead
ing her little Carl, to his bouse.
There she fell sick' and was nursed
kindly by his mother, but ere she
recovered tho. boy was taken sick
and died. Afterwards 6ho returned
to her desolate homo, and lived a
ronely and droarylifo for a long time.
Then her rare beoutv brought her
many suitors. She retired from all
and would receive no on to her
h4nsc. Even' Carl, whom she had
i . .
called her brother, could only be ad
mitted at long intervals, accompa
nied by hjs mother or sister for al
ready had village gossip jined their
namei tojj'ther. Well, after a "lonjr
w bile, Carl spoke t o her of marriage,
lie did not ask her u forgot tho
dead.
Even. then, he told her, could her
husband be brought to life, htf would
rejoice to give her up ; but as all
was over, why should they not who
mourned him most deeply, unite
their desolate lives together 7 And
Blanche listened, aud weejnngly con
sented, but not until the second lit
tle Carl was born did sho ever smile
as of old.
AH this Carl told me with tears
in his inmly eyes, and with his
brptherly arms around my neck.
Aod then although I could see the
wrirds wrung his soul die offered to
UKe his boy and go. far, far away
from the sight of our happiness, aud
never intrude oo us again.?
.. blanche sat .with .cuivering lip
and tearful ees, looking from one
I of the other, and f.bet , on her new
sleeping babe. At the sound of his
la4 words she looked5 p into his
face with an. expression so full of
tender reverence as Jie , indeed de
serted that my resolution was ta
ken! at once.
Mi- ' I caul ! nil r nml .Ufii.tui-I. 1
ly, though God knows tho anguish
that was gnawing ' at "my heart"
strings, let mo bo the victim 61 rtHlaP
nnhappy mistaki 'CarlB?aucfi'tyO
your child is the" tie that biid JotT.
Had. mine lived, I siioaM E-rveS aid
othern rse. May Ood UU'SS you bt.
Yon have not irrl wilfully, and X
..
have nothing to pardon'; I.'.will-jLry
to toriret'l '.
Sv, aimdt tears, and , sobJt
f H.i ft ft
passionate entre-Uies fvom both, I
turned awny from rnyv'ownrheaTtb
sl(!ie, and ic-ft the tn:foferbf. fS
I niu a gray oM;watY ilowit
pur-hweary, worn-out m.irmer. Threat
Hns been iy h.onio for longvyeafs.
Never easy, never qaict, save, "When
I am on the broad bosom f tW At?
am on tlie bro:td bosouiiOt tWAtv
ntic, never willing tojopje jUiMm
in bl'iie Iviiine. I am nearly at iny
Ian
th
journej's end. " I.U ftUfc
om the seUir.4 sun, I .shrill neat
bhnciio again vvitiijoiir Jittlo Curl,
hut, in this w'urld I shall uevoi ag:iiu
trouble the cuirent of her life.
Press ol tho Chinoso. Women
BV MRS. E. K. nAI.DWXV.
A Chinese lady, that is, a small or,
boundfooted woman, may west tbe
most eiegant clollanjf. . ller outer
garment is called a sans : it I a
loose garment buttoned up the fight
ide, aiid extending btlow the Icneo
It is oftqn made of haadsomo silk or
satin, somciiuies very elegantly cm
broidered. She atso wearsicirptj
tinder-skirt, coming below the sang
down to the scarlet pantalettes; and
both sUTri'and pantalettes ard hand-
somely embroidered in' many cblordt!
eilks aiid gold. The prevailing col
ors for tho upper garments' at Foo-s
Chow arc black, dark blue,!!!
and sometimes drab: -while the "fca- .
der skirt and paiitalettesar6 scarlet.
In winter, the . outer garment1 is
sometimes lined with fur, but the
fur is always lining, not outside. 'Iu
summer, the Chinese lady very Jen- '
erally wears white muslirj orfilk
gownt, bound and trunmeilVilh
black muslin or satin. Her sleeeves
aro rather full, and f wrienRhbc'alls
upon you she keeps her hands clajird
meekly before her, except whon she.
examines your clothing, ?i which she
does without any hesitation.'.:''-
I wih thnt I could describe tfie
style of the Chinese lady lulrr'lt
is very elaborate, and is celtainly far
more becoming than the (present
stylo of American ladies. 'Tbdair
is so thoroughly oiled that it&JYcr)r
glossy, and keeps its place.JItwonld
be useless to attempt a full descrip
tion of it, but it is hronghCtoV'down
on the neck though not touching the
neck, end then ppread intOHt'nort of
a ran or wing shapCj'andtbtldHn
place by gold cla?p and 'pmsv A'..
very elegant band,- ornamentcd4fitri
gold and pearls U often "xvorn oni tho
head just above tho forehead.; Ft off
ers avo !iuivers.il!y worn ; theymay
be 'either natural or artificial! They
are fasten-d to long pins and put in
to the back Tnir, 'extending out sever
al inches from each side of the head.
A full d retted Chinese lady would
be potaething for any one of ' fhy
readers to see. What with her wide
spreading hair, adorned with golti,
precious stone-s and '' tlowershAr .
hfavy tol.l eifr-rif)t wit!. jade-tOirt
pend nits ; th heavily cmhr jkleed
sang of fi:itn, over w!ich, and
around' the neck, hang a longlstrirrg--of
perfumed bc.id- ; the gayly cm
broi d er ed rud n n ,1 e rski rt tan d pan ta -letter
; the tiny t'cct,m two inch scar-
r '
let satin -ioos ; the smrdl formed
hand.-, two .or thre finger is of which
have the v.-ry finioh of arist0crdc,
that is, nniis an inch or two hn, m
silver or go'd shcathn : the gold or.
jade bracelets on the wrists; the
cheeks and lips paintor reil,' face
powdered, eyebrows shaven stra'gGti
al together, tho lady before nsvts -very
gorgeous, in her, gejt -tipvanl
not unhandsome if I except h oj:r
little feet so wofnll misi3nt;n.
Such is a lady in Chma dornwl
with silk, satin, and icwelsl bnt gon-
erailv unabictn reaJLa wor.dkJ5ecIul-
ed from tho world, married to a 'man
he never saw nritilTj ffrtorf!?frftr
life, ud1 ss ho chooser to setThfraid,
shut up in small che!rssromrH
having none of thoicorn forts of Mir
home?. She U th- !slave6f fir ha4
l,nn.I nnd hia immediate relatives.
barely she U an object frr onr ' pfty.
l,v ,rHf.i!in Wmfi
- v ,
t