DOMESTIC RECEIPTS.

The Borrowers Department

"The wicked borroweth and payeth not again."

THE"Southern Sentinel" says: "We do not see how the ladies can do without this admirable work." They don't; those who are not subscribers borrow. It is a fair calculation to suppose that there are at least five persons who read each number of the "Lady's Book." Now, as we have only 80,000 subscribers, this would make 400,000 readers, 320,000 of whom borrow the "Book."

"GODEYAGAIN.—'Have you received the Lady's Book for April?' says a lady friend to us. 'Really,' she continued. 'Idothink that GODEYis the most enterprising and shrewd publisher in the Union. He is always "ahead of time," and I can hardly wait even then! Will youlend it to me as soon as it comes?' Of course, we wanted to accommodate a friend—and especially awkward was it to saynoto a lady; but we told her that we wanted to keep them neat and clean for binding, and gently hinted that for $3 she could get it without being dependent upon the printer! After second thought, however, we have concluded to lendthisincomparable number, making the borrower promise to immediately subscribe."—Palmyra Sentinel.

THE"Lawrence Journal" says:—

"We want to raise a club of about one hundred in Newcastle; so please hand in your names, with the cash, and hereafter don't ask us, or our better half, to lend it when you can get it for two dollars per annum."

THE"Manheim Sentinel" vows that he will not lend his number. "We have been already asked by several to lend ours, but our answer is, 'Ladies, we don't lend Godey.'"

THE"Newark Democrat" is positive. It says:—

"Remember, we can't lend our 'Book.' Godey has interdicted it expressly."

"GODEY FORMARCH.—We came very near forgetting our old friend and always welcome visitor, 'Godey's Lady's Book.' Our apology is that the ladies—bless their precious souls!—took possession of it instanter, and we have not seen it since. But in subsequent discussions of matters of feminine delicacy and taste, we have been reminded that GODEY is theprimum mobileof fashion, and the oracle of parlor conversations. According to the ladies, he is a 'jewel'—with us, he is a 'trump.'"—Geo. Am. Union.

Chemistry for Youth

DECOMPOSITION OFWATER.—Take a grain of potassium, wrap it up in a small piece of thin paper, and introduce it into a test tube, or small phial, inverted under water, and full of the same fluid. It immediately rises to the top, and, combining with the oxygen of the water, an equivalent of hydrogen gas is given off, which expels the water from the tube or phial, and occupies its place. A lighted match brought to the mouth of the tube will prove the presence of the hydrogen.

THEILLUMINATOR ANDEXTINGUISHER.—Take three glass jars, of equal heights, the first containing common air, the second carbonic acid gas, and the third oxygen gas; plunge, successively, a lighted candle into these jars, first into that holding common air, then into the carbonic acid, and, lastly, into the oxygen gas. In the jar containing atmospheric air, the candle will burn with ordinary brightness; in that filled with carbonic acid gas, the flame will be instantly extinguished, but the glowing wick will be relighted in the oxygen, and burn with increased brilliancy.

MINERALCHAMELEON.—If one part of the oxide of manganese, and three parts of the nitrate of potass, be heated to redness in a crucible till no more oxygen gas be given off (the heat must be very considerable), a friable green powder is obtained, generally known by the name of mineral chameleon, from its property of changing color during its solution in water. If a small quantity of the powder be put into a glass of water, it soon forms a green solution, when it passes into a violet hue; and lastly it becomes of a beautiful red color. If put into warm water, the changes take place more rapidly, and are much more diversified. Mineral chameleon is a manganate of potass, and it rapidly absorbs oxygen from the atmosphere. The changes of color that occur are owing to the different degrees of oxidizement of the metal.

Enigmas

16. Eternity. 17. Flea. 18. Prayer-book. 19. A bullet.

20.ICOMEfrom Nova Zembla's coast,Greenland's realms of ice and frost,Where the Arctic's waters whiteGlisten in the moon's chill light;Where the sunbeam's ardent rayBurns but for a single day.O'er the "living and the dead"I my restless course have sped,And many a work of woe, I ween,Showeth where my flight hath been.At a noble's dwelling, rich and high,A beggar waited, with downcast eye;His timeworn locks were silvery white,And he prayed for shelter a single night;But the haughty menials within the wallHeeded not his weary call.I breathed on him with my icy breath,And lo! his limbs were stiff in death!A pale young mother by want opprestClasped her babe to her aching breast;I listened as in accents wild,She prayed that God would save her child.Then I swept along in the hurricane's play,While skylit torches illumed my way.With the shade of my measureless wing I embracedThat mother and child, and they both are at rest.I hurried me on in the tempest's black car,With the thunder to herald my coming afar;I stayed not, nor stopped till I reached the broad main,Where I lashed the bright waves till they maddened with pain.I call to the clouds; at my voice they arise,And ope, at my bidding, the gates of the skies.No law have I but to work my will;And where is the power that can bid me "Be still?"LUCIAC. PENDLETON.21.OFbrethren sevenThe youngest by birth,But, favored by heaven,I'm chiefest on earth.I'm regarded with loveBy my friends good and wise,And am honored aboveEvery crown 'neath the skiesThere's a charm in my name,All so radiant and pure,That my canonized fameWith the world must endure.Such a glory I shedUpon each mundane scene—On the dungeon of dread,Or the court of the queen.The fair landscape I gildFor contemplative eyes,As all nature seems filledWith a radiance they prize.My six brothers, in twin,May bring riches and pleasure,But in me you'll discernThat unparalleled treasure—That alleviates care,That reanimates labor,And man's peace should repairWith his God and his neighbor.22.AWARRIORand a man I am,And gallant fame have I;Yet my humanity's a sham,For I neither live nor die.

20.ICOMEfrom Nova Zembla's coast,Greenland's realms of ice and frost,Where the Arctic's waters whiteGlisten in the moon's chill light;Where the sunbeam's ardent rayBurns but for a single day.O'er the "living and the dead"I my restless course have sped,And many a work of woe, I ween,Showeth where my flight hath been.At a noble's dwelling, rich and high,A beggar waited, with downcast eye;His timeworn locks were silvery white,And he prayed for shelter a single night;But the haughty menials within the wallHeeded not his weary call.I breathed on him with my icy breath,And lo! his limbs were stiff in death!A pale young mother by want opprestClasped her babe to her aching breast;I listened as in accents wild,She prayed that God would save her child.Then I swept along in the hurricane's play,While skylit torches illumed my way.With the shade of my measureless wing I embracedThat mother and child, and they both are at rest.I hurried me on in the tempest's black car,With the thunder to herald my coming afar;I stayed not, nor stopped till I reached the broad main,Where I lashed the bright waves till they maddened with pain.I call to the clouds; at my voice they arise,And ope, at my bidding, the gates of the skies.No law have I but to work my will;And where is the power that can bid me "Be still?"LUCIAC. PENDLETON.21.OFbrethren sevenThe youngest by birth,But, favored by heaven,I'm chiefest on earth.I'm regarded with loveBy my friends good and wise,And am honored aboveEvery crown 'neath the skiesThere's a charm in my name,All so radiant and pure,That my canonized fameWith the world must endure.Such a glory I shedUpon each mundane scene—On the dungeon of dread,Or the court of the queen.The fair landscape I gildFor contemplative eyes,As all nature seems filledWith a radiance they prize.My six brothers, in twin,May bring riches and pleasure,But in me you'll discernThat unparalleled treasure—That alleviates care,That reanimates labor,And man's peace should repairWith his God and his neighbor.22.AWARRIORand a man I am,And gallant fame have I;Yet my humanity's a sham,For I neither live nor die.

20.

20.

ICOMEfrom Nova Zembla's coast,Greenland's realms of ice and frost,Where the Arctic's waters whiteGlisten in the moon's chill light;Where the sunbeam's ardent rayBurns but for a single day.O'er the "living and the dead"I my restless course have sped,And many a work of woe, I ween,Showeth where my flight hath been.At a noble's dwelling, rich and high,A beggar waited, with downcast eye;His timeworn locks were silvery white,And he prayed for shelter a single night;But the haughty menials within the wallHeeded not his weary call.I breathed on him with my icy breath,And lo! his limbs were stiff in death!A pale young mother by want opprestClasped her babe to her aching breast;I listened as in accents wild,She prayed that God would save her child.Then I swept along in the hurricane's play,While skylit torches illumed my way.With the shade of my measureless wing I embracedThat mother and child, and they both are at rest.I hurried me on in the tempest's black car,With the thunder to herald my coming afar;I stayed not, nor stopped till I reached the broad main,Where I lashed the bright waves till they maddened with pain.I call to the clouds; at my voice they arise,And ope, at my bidding, the gates of the skies.No law have I but to work my will;And where is the power that can bid me "Be still?"

ICOMEfrom Nova Zembla's coast,

Greenland's realms of ice and frost,

Where the Arctic's waters white

Glisten in the moon's chill light;

Where the sunbeam's ardent ray

Burns but for a single day.

O'er the "living and the dead"

I my restless course have sped,

And many a work of woe, I ween,

Showeth where my flight hath been.

At a noble's dwelling, rich and high,

A beggar waited, with downcast eye;

His timeworn locks were silvery white,

And he prayed for shelter a single night;

But the haughty menials within the wall

Heeded not his weary call.

I breathed on him with my icy breath,

And lo! his limbs were stiff in death!

A pale young mother by want opprest

Clasped her babe to her aching breast;

I listened as in accents wild,

She prayed that God would save her child.

Then I swept along in the hurricane's play,

While skylit torches illumed my way.

With the shade of my measureless wing I embraced

That mother and child, and they both are at rest.

I hurried me on in the tempest's black car,

With the thunder to herald my coming afar;

I stayed not, nor stopped till I reached the broad main,

Where I lashed the bright waves till they maddened with pain.

I call to the clouds; at my voice they arise,

And ope, at my bidding, the gates of the skies.

No law have I but to work my will;

And where is the power that can bid me "Be still?"

LUCIAC. PENDLETON.

LUCIAC. PENDLETON.

21.

21.

OFbrethren sevenThe youngest by birth,But, favored by heaven,I'm chiefest on earth.

OFbrethren seven

The youngest by birth,

But, favored by heaven,

I'm chiefest on earth.

I'm regarded with loveBy my friends good and wise,And am honored aboveEvery crown 'neath the skies

I'm regarded with love

By my friends good and wise,

And am honored above

Every crown 'neath the skies

There's a charm in my name,All so radiant and pure,That my canonized fameWith the world must endure.

There's a charm in my name,

All so radiant and pure,

That my canonized fame

With the world must endure.

Such a glory I shedUpon each mundane scene—On the dungeon of dread,Or the court of the queen.

Such a glory I shed

Upon each mundane scene—

On the dungeon of dread,

Or the court of the queen.

The fair landscape I gildFor contemplative eyes,As all nature seems filledWith a radiance they prize.

The fair landscape I gild

For contemplative eyes,

As all nature seems filled

With a radiance they prize.

My six brothers, in twin,May bring riches and pleasure,But in me you'll discernThat unparalleled treasure—

My six brothers, in twin,

May bring riches and pleasure,

But in me you'll discern

That unparalleled treasure—

That alleviates care,That reanimates labor,And man's peace should repairWith his God and his neighbor.

That alleviates care,

That reanimates labor,

And man's peace should repair

With his God and his neighbor.

22.

22.

AWARRIORand a man I am,And gallant fame have I;Yet my humanity's a sham,For I neither live nor die.

AWARRIORand a man I am,

And gallant fame have I;

Yet my humanity's a sham,

For I neither live nor die.

Receipts

TOCHOOSEEGGS.—In choosing eggs, hold them to the light; if they are clear, they are fresh; if they are thick, they are stale; if they have a black spot attached to the shell, they are worthless. Eggs should be new, or not more than twenty-four hours old, when they are stored, else their flavor cannot be relied on. The safest mode of choosing them is by holding them to the light of a candle. Unless an egg is perfectly fresh, it is unfit for any purpose. Bought eggs ought always to be suspected; therefore, let an earthen pan be kept with charcoal or lime-water to put them in. The longer they are kept in it the better they will be, as these waters destroy must, and even corruption. You may try the freshness of eggs by putting them in a pan of cold water. Those that sink the soonest are the freshest. Eggs may be preserved a short time by putting them in a jar of salt or lime-water, with the small ends downwards. The salt should not afterwards be used. They may be preserved several months by greasing them all over with melted mutton suet, and wedging them close together in a box of bran. The small ends always downwards.

TO KEEPEGGS FORWINTERUSE.—Pour a full gallon of boiling water on two quarts of quicklime and half a pound of salt; when cold, mix it into an ounce of cream of tartar. The day following put in the eggs. After the lime has been stirred well into the boiling water, a large part of it will settle at the bottom of the vessel, on which the eggs will remain. Keep them covered with the liquor, and they will keep for two years.

TOBOILEGGS TOEAT IN THESHELLS, OR FORSALADS.—The fresher laid the better; put them into boiling water; if you like the white just set, about two minutes' boiling is long enough; a new-laid egg will take a little longer; if you wish the yolk to be set, it will take three, and to boil it hard for a salad, ten minutes. A new-laid egg will require boiling longer than a stale one, by half a minute.

POACHEDEGGS.—The beauty of a poached egg is for the yolk to be seen blushing through the white, which should only be just sufficiently hardened to form a transparent veil for the egg. Have some boiling water in a teakettle; pass as much of it through a clean cloth as will half fill a stewpan; break the egg into a cup, and when the water boils, remove the stewpan from the stove, and gently slip the egg into it; it must stand till the white is set; then put it over a very moderate fire, and as soon as the water boils, the egg is ready; take it up with a slice, and neatlyround off the raged edges of the white; send it to table on bread toasted on one side only, with or without butter.

TOPOACHEGGS IN THEFRYING-PAN.—Put very little butter, oil, or top-pot into the frying-pan; break the eggs gently into a deep cup, of the size the egg is to be of, sometimes smaller, sometimes larger; with a quick slight turn of the hand, turn the cup over with the egg into the pan, and leave the cup upon it, and continue to turn over the cups till all the eggs are put in; the fire must be very slow. When the first egg has taken, raise the cup a little to ascertain it. They must be done very slowly, otherwise the under part will be overdone. Dress them over parsley, spinach, or on toasted bread.

CUPPEDEGGS.—Put a spoonful of very nice high-seasoned brown gravy into each cup; set the cups in a saucepan of boiling water, and, when the gravy heats, drop a fresh egg into each cup; take off the saucepan, and cover it close till the eggs are nicely and tenderly cooked; dredge them with very fine mace, or nutmeg and salt. Serve them in a hot-water plate, covered with a napkin.

ŒUFSBROUILLES.—Break four or six eggs; beat them and put them into a saucepan with a piece of butter, a little salt, and a spoonful of sauce or gravy, which makes the eggs softer; stir them over the fire until sufficiently thick; serve on a plate garnished with toasted bread. To eggs dressed in this way, ham, mushrooms, &c., minced, may be added. The difference between this and an omelette is, that an omelette is compact and turns out smooth, whereasœufs brouillésare less done, and are, therefore, broken. In Ireland, where it is in general use, it is usually served upon hot buttered toast, and is there called "buttered eggs." It is also very common in France, where it is usually served for breakfast.

Or: Butter a dish well, and sprinkle it with salt; then break the eggs very carefully, so as not to disturb the yolk; add a little more salt, and some white pepper; melt a small quantity of butter, and pour it gently over, with one or two spoonfuls of cream. Put the dish over a slow fire, and finish the eggs by covering them with a red-hot shovel.

SOUFFLEFRANCAISE.—Put into a stewpan one ounce of butter; when melted, add two table-spoonfuls of flour; stir them well over the fire, so that the flour be thoroughly cooked, but not colored; add by degrees a wineglass of boiling cream, and four times that quantity of boiling milk; work it quite smooth, take it off the fire, add four yolks of eggs, sugar to palate, a grain of salt, and a table-spoonful of orange-flower water; whip up strongly the whites of eight eggs, mix them lightly in the batter, put the whole into a soufflé-dish, and bake for an hour. The flavor of this souffle may be varied according to fancy, omitting the orange-flower water, and substituting either vanilla, curacoa, noyeau, maraschino, chocolate, coffee, &c.

A COMMONOMELETTE.—From four to eight very fresh eggs may be used for this, according to the sized dish required. Half a dozen will generally be sufficient. Break them singly and carefully; clear them, or, when they are sufficiently whisked, pour them through a sieve, and resume the beating until they are very light. Add to them from half to a whole teaspoonful of salt, and a seasoning of pepper. Dissolve in a small frying-pan a couple of ounces of butter; pour in the eggs, and as soon as the omelette is well risen and firm throughout, slide it on to a hot dish, fold it together like a turnover, and serve it immediately. From five to seven minutes will fry it.

A SWEETOMELETTE WITHPRESERVE.—Beat up four eggs with a little salt; add sugar; fry the omelette in fresh butter, make a half pound of preserve liquid by shaking it in a little water over the fire; spread half upon the omelette, double it up, and pour the remainder over the top.

FRENCHOMELETTE.—Beat up four eggs with a table-spoonful of milk, a little salt and pepper; put two ounces of fresh butter in the pan, and let it remain for five minutes; beat the eggs for the same time; pour them into the pan, and let them remain quiet for a few minutes, taking care to separate the omelette gently from the bottom of the pan with a fork; now shake it to keep it from burning at the bottom. It will not take more than five minutes in cooking. Chopped parsley, shallot, or grated ham may be added.

FAINTING.—In cases of fainting, apply to the nostrils and temples some spirits of compound spirits of ammonia, and give a few drops in a wineglass of water inwardly.

LINSEEDTEA.—Pour a quart of boiling water on one ounce of linseed, bruised, and half an ounce of sliced liquorice-root; let it stand in a covered vessel near the fire four or five hours; then strain.

CHILBLAINLOTION.—Mix two ounces of sal-ammoniac with a pint of water.

TOMAKEBARLEY-WATER.—Well wash two ounces of pearl barley; boil it a few minutes in half a pint of water, which is to be thrown away; then add four pints of boiling water; keep it boiling till two only are left, and strain. A small quantity of lemon-juice may be added.

WORMPOWDER.—Take of rhubarb and jalap, each fifteen grains, and mix with them four grains of calomel; take in honey.

THENAUSEOUSTASTE OFMEDICINEPREVENTED.—By chewing aromatic substances, such as orange or lemon-peel, cloves or other spice, before taking medicine, little or no taste will be perceived. The mouth can also be thus prepared beforehand by a peppermint lozenge, or even a lump of sugar.

The Toilet

ALMONDPASTE.—Half a pound of bitter almonds; two ounces of raisins, stoned and well pounded in a mortar till they become quite a paste. Add a small wineglassful of French brandy, and rather less than half a glass of fine sweet oil. Beat it well, and put it in a pot for use.

LAVENDERWATER.—One pint of the best rectified spirits of wine, one ounce of oil of lavender, one teaspoonful of ambergris, and half an ounce of bergamot.

FORCHAPPEDHANDS.—Mix a quarter of a pound of unsalted hog's lard, which has been washed in common and then rose-water, with the yolks of two new-laid eggs and a large spoonful of honey. Add as much fine oatmeal or almond-paste as will work it into a proper consistence, and rub in well before going to bed.

A GOODDENTIFRICEis equal parts of powdered myrrh, chalk, and orris-root.

THEblack spots on the face are occasioned by obstructions in the skin. Rubbing well with soap and flannel is better than the application of spirit. Pressing on the spots firmly with the spill of a watch-key will sometimes cause the black marks to come out. Friction will prevent their occurring, as they are occasioned by languid circulation and a want of frequent scrubbing. In such a state of the skin, frequent warm bathing would be beneficial.

MANAGEMENT OF THEFINGERNAILS.—According to European fashion, they should be of an oval figure, transparent, without specks or ridges of any kind; the semilunar fold, or white half-circle, should be fully developed, and the pellicle, or cuticle which forms the configuration around the root of the nails, thin and well defined, and, when properly arranged, should represent as nearly as possible the shape of a half-filbert. The proper management of the nails is to cut them of an oval shape, corresponding with the form of the fingers; they should not be allowed to grow too long, as it is difficult to keep them clean; nor too short, as it allows the ends of the fingers to become flattened and enlarged by being pressed upwards against the nails, and gives them a clumsy appearance. The epidermis, which forms the semicircle round the nail, and adheres to it, requires particular attention, as it is frequently dragged on with its growth, drawing the skin below the nail so tense as to cause it to crack and separate into what are called agnails. This is easily remedied by carefully separating the skin from the nail by a blunt, half-round instrument. Many persons are in the habit of continually cutting this pellicle, in consequence of which it becomes exceeding irregular, and often injurious to the growth of the nail. They also frequently pick under the nails with a pin, penknife, or the point of sharp scissors, with the intention of keeping them clean, by doing which they often loosen them, and occasion considerable injury. The nails should be cleansed with a brush not too hard; and the semicircular skin should not be cut away, but only loosened, without touching the quick, the fingers being afterwards dipped in tepid water, and the skin pushed back with a towel. This method, which should be practised daily, will keep the nails of a proper shape, prevent agnails, and the pellicles from thickening or becoming rugged. When the nails are naturally rugged or ill-formed, the longitudinal ridges or fibres should be scraped and rubbed with lemon, afterwards rinsed in water, and well dried with the towel; but if the nails are very thin, no benefit will be derived by scraping; on the contrary, it might cause them to split. If the nails grow more to one side than the other, they should be cut in such a manner as to make the point come as nearly as possible in the centre of the end of the finger.

Centre-Table Gossip

HAVINGseen much of primitive districts ourselves, where "china" is known as crockery, and dinner sets are "dishes," we can tell how incredible it will seem to some of our more remote readers, when we tell them there is a single set in our city now on sale, at the price of two thousand dollars. The cost of a small farm swallowed up in one set of dinner dishes, liable to breakage, too—more liable than less precious ware. We quite agree with a favorite handmaid, to whom the advertisement was read—

"La, ma'am, I shouldn't like to have the washin' and handlin' of 'em."

Imagine the ease with which the possessor of this treasure would preside over his table, with his property at the mercy of careless or hurried waiting-men; his most elegant courtesies cut short by the imminent danger of a soup-tureen, valued at fifty dollars; the point of his choicestbon motlost by the capsizing of a gravy-boat. Better a dinner of herbs, from white stone ware, so far as equanimity is concerned.

As a work of art—for only a true artist could design these graceful shapes and trace the exquisite designs—the set cannot be too highly valued, and the owners of the palatial residences on Fifth Avenue, who have their billiard-rooms and bowling-saloons, their picture-galleries, and their stables grained in oak, might thank the good taste of the importer, who has placed such a gem within their reach. Rare china, in these luxurious days, is a fashion and a taste which our fashionable circles are just beginning to cultivate. Collecting it has long been a favorite pursuit abroad with those whose wealth would permit so expensive a hobby. What will be thought of a sale like this, which we copy from an English print?—

"The chief attraction of the sale at Bedford Lodge, the late residence of the Duchess of Bedford, was a collection of rare old Sèvres, Dresden, and other porcelain, and some magnificent specimens of the now almost obsolete Chelsea ware, together with a number of very fine old marqueterie cabinets. Among the more remarkable lots sold may be instanced a set of three small toilet-cases of rare old Chelsea ware (measuring only four or five inches square), mazarine blue ground, richly embellished in gold, with birds and flowers, which realized, after an active competition, two hundred guineas; a pair of fine old Chelsea china vase-shaped candelabras, painted in figures and flowers, on a turquoise ground, sold for seventy guineas; a pair of elegant small Sèvres vases, with handles, on white fluted pedestals, forty-nine guineas; a cabinet of turquoise Sèvres, consisting of plateau, a two-handled cup and saucer, and a sugar-bowl and cover, delicately painted, with cupids, camaien pink, fifty-five guineas; a superb Sèvres vase, with handles, lapis blue ground, richly decorated with gold, and painted with medallion portraits, in grisaille, and garlands of flowers. This beautiful vase, which stands about thirteen inches high, realized one hundred and fifty-six guineas; two Dresden vases, with handles of elegant form, and painted with flowers, forty guineas; a Palissey ware candelabra, for four lights, and supported by néreides and masks, sold for fourteen guineas; a sculptured hand, with a bunch of grapes, in statuary marble, realized seventeen guineas; a jewel casket, with ormolu enrichments and Sèvres plaques on each side, painted with landscape and figures of a female at a fountain, forty-two guineas; a fine jewel casket, composed of plaques of rare Oriental enamelled china painted, with ormolu, fifty-eight guineas; a superb Sèvres écuelle, with cupids and bouquets of flowers, delicately pencilled in camaien pink, seventeen guineas; two fine old Dresden verrières, richly gilt borders, and painted with birds, fifteen guineas; a large Dresden ink tray, of the finest period, with scroll borderings, nineteen guineas."

"SERVANTSare such a trial!" is now the general complaint. Mrs. A. has five cooks in one winter; Mrs. B. changes her chambermaid every month; Mrs. C.'s nurseneglects the baby; and Mrs. D.'s waiter is impertinent to her mistress and cross to the children. To hear a knot of ladies discuss their respective domestic grievances, one would suppose that there was no honesty of purpose and little ability left among "those of our own household." And yet in the old times which we now look upon as dark ages, in the days of our youth, when we should have been learning better lessons than idleness and extravagance, servants grew old and gray-haired in the employment of one family.

It can not be all the fault of those in service. If those who complain the most would spend half the time wasted in talking over their trials, in gaining the interest, and enlightening the ignorance of their servants, half their lamentations would be spared. Many an indifferent cook might be made capable and grateful with a little instruction, and the impertinence and idling often come from a spirit fretted by accumulated task-work, that should have been arranged to a methodical routine.

There is a good lesson worth laying to heart in the memorable last words of Justice Talfourd, the wise jurist and elegant poet. It will be remembered that he died the past spring, in the discharge of his judicial duties, in the midst of an appeal from the bench for sympathy with those we employ:—

"I am afraid we all keep too much aloof from those beneath us, and whom we encourage to look upon us with suspicion and dislike. Even to our servants, we think perhaps that we fulfil our duty when we perform our contract with them; when we pay them their wages and treat them with the civility consistent with our habits and feelings; when we curb our temper and use no violent expressions towards them. But how painful is the thought that there are men and women growing up around us, ministering to our comforts and necessities, continually inmates of our dwellings, with whose affections and natures we are as much unacquainted as if they were the inhabitants of some other sphere. This feeling, arising from that kind of reserve peculiar to the English character, does, I think, greatly tend to prevent that reciprocation of kind words and gentle affections, gracious admonitions and kind inquiries, which often, more than any book education, tend to the culture of the affections of the heart, refinement and elevation of the character of those to whom they are addressed."

ANICEtime we should have of it, in the spring and fall, if some ingenious "Singer" would invent a machine that would cut and fit our own and our children's dresses. With the aid of Godey's "How to Make a Dress," the agony of weeks would be over in a few days, and wardrobes and closets have their full supply of dresses, jackets, and aprons. In the absence of this useful domestic aid, several parties have done their best to simplify the process of measuring and fitting that every one dreads to go through with, whether they stand up to it themselves or exhaust entreaties and commands to make the younger members of the flock "keep still" under the trying ordeal of pins and scissors.

Among the best of these methods, the simplest and most expeditious that we have seen are the dress charts of Madame Demorest, to whose establishment we have made frequent allusion, for ladies and children. Three measures only are taken, the pencil, chart, and paper put in requisition, and the thing is done. Madame D. evidently "keeps a poet," from the verses which we find on the back of her circular. Listen to "the consummation devoutly to be wished for" by all who dread fall and spring dressmaking:—

"Dressmakers made artists by this magical chart,All flee from the old tedious and wearisome art;A pleasure succeeds to what once was a task,As they fashion the jacket, the bodice, and basque.Each lady with skill now may cut her own dresses,When she once the Excelsior Dress Model possesses;Of good taste and model she only asks aid,And a beautiful garment is speedily made."While sitting content in her snug sewing-chair,We see the fond mother the dresses prepare.She calls up her children and fits them so neatlyBy the children's dress chart that has charmed her completely."

"Dressmakers made artists by this magical chart,All flee from the old tedious and wearisome art;A pleasure succeeds to what once was a task,As they fashion the jacket, the bodice, and basque.Each lady with skill now may cut her own dresses,When she once the Excelsior Dress Model possesses;Of good taste and model she only asks aid,And a beautiful garment is speedily made."While sitting content in her snug sewing-chair,We see the fond mother the dresses prepare.She calls up her children and fits them so neatlyBy the children's dress chart that has charmed her completely."

"Dressmakers made artists by this magical chart,All flee from the old tedious and wearisome art;A pleasure succeeds to what once was a task,As they fashion the jacket, the bodice, and basque.Each lady with skill now may cut her own dresses,When she once the Excelsior Dress Model possesses;Of good taste and model she only asks aid,And a beautiful garment is speedily made.

"Dressmakers made artists by this magical chart,

All flee from the old tedious and wearisome art;

A pleasure succeeds to what once was a task,

As they fashion the jacket, the bodice, and basque.

Each lady with skill now may cut her own dresses,

When she once the Excelsior Dress Model possesses;

Of good taste and model she only asks aid,

And a beautiful garment is speedily made.

"While sitting content in her snug sewing-chair,We see the fond mother the dresses prepare.She calls up her children and fits them so neatlyBy the children's dress chart that has charmed her completely."

"While sitting content in her snug sewing-chair,

We see the fond mother the dresses prepare.

She calls up her children and fits them so neatly

By the children's dress chart that has charmed her completely."

Even the old lady "that lived in a shoe" would find her way out of the difficulties in which she is historically enveloped, by the aid of this magic chart, if it effects half that is promised for it.

ASmany of our lady readers know, there is generally a rage for some one stone, or style of setting, in jewelry. We do not speak of costly sets, as pearl or diamonds, but of those accessible to ordinary purchasers.

The topaz had its day, and was succeeded by turquoise; for a time every one, without regard to complexion, wore brooch and ear-rings of cerulean blue. Then garnets; then enamel of blue or green; and now, with a proper mixture of pearl, garnet and enamel, turquoise being entirely out of date, coral ornaments seem to be the favorites.

We mentioned, in a late number, the costly sets found at Ball & Black's, imitating flowers and fruit. When last coral was in vogue, the carvings were more in the style of cameo cuttings, as figures, heads, etc., in medallion, and of the dark red hue generally seen in the necklaces of infants. White and rose color are now the favorite shades. There are many new designs in setting; a branch highly polished, for instance, encircled in coils of gold; a single blossom or fruit, as a pear or a fuchsia, set in the same way, and forming the centre of the pin, or the drop of the ear-ring. A very pretty brooch—we speak now of simple ornaments—in this style costs from seven to twelve dollars.

Garnets are sometimes set on a glowing red or crimson ground, which gives them a singular flashing, vivid color. One of the favorite designs is in imitation of the section of a branch or stem of a tree, encrusted with gold and garnets. These are, of course, large and showy brooches. We have seen a few encrusted with turquoise in the same style. Enamelled ornaments are still worn, but are not so much the rage as for a few years past. For mourning brooches, see the fashion article of the present month.

Pearls are still in high favor with those whose purses and whose complexions can afford them.

ITis as well to mention in our chat the reason of the unavoidable delay of the promised volume on nursery matters, announced some three months since. Its design and scope were altered when the illustrations and much of the text were prepared, which has delayed its appearance. It is, however, now nearly ready, and will be forwarded as early as possible to the numerous subscribers who have sent us their orders. They will scarcely regret the delay, when the volume in its present form reachesthem. If, however, there are any who are tired of waiting "for the play to commence," they can have the price of tickets refunded at the office—or, to speak plainly, we will willingly return any moneys received in advance, if any desire it, by sending post-office stamps to the amount. However, our readers need not fear that their claims will be forgotten as soon as the book is ready. It will be found simple, practical, and reliable in its various directions for the preparation of an infant's wardrobe, short clothes, flannels, etc. etc.

WOOD-CUTTINGis not so difficult as our correspondent, "L.," seems to imagine, and seems to us especially adapted to be an employment for females. It has been taught successfully in the Philadelphia School of Design. She is right in thinking it the first established. A history of its commencement and progress has been already given in the "Lady's Book." The designs for wood-cutting are drawn on the block, usually of pear-tree wood, made as smooth as satin letter-paper. The designer is not always, or often the engraver.

"A BOARDER" will find it very convenient to make chintz covers to her trunks, if she has no place to pack them. They are very simple, and effectually disguise travelling boxes, transforming them to ottomans and lounges. She has only to purchase furniture chintz at twelve and a half cents a yard, fit a piece to the top of the trunk, and run a plain flounce the height of the sides around it. This will leave one end seam to be closed. A binding of worsted or cotton braid, some neat dark color, gives a finish to the chintz, and is run on the top seam around the trunk, and down the four corners. This gives it still more the appearance of an ottoman or lounge, as their covers are made in the same way. Many housekeepers have boxes made in this way, to contain silver or bed linen, where closet room is needed.

"MRS. N.," of Rose Hill, Ga.—A lambrequin is the fall or top piece of a curtain; see any of Carryl's advertisements in the "Lady's Book." It is generally of a heavy material, as damask, satin laine, etc., finished with gimp, or cords and tassels. In a summer country house, where heavy curtains are not needed, a lambrequin depending from the cornice gives a finish to lace or muslin draperies. We should advise her to order them.

"MRS. GEO. P."—The appearance of the gum probably was the result of injury from a hard substance, an ivory or wooden plaything, possibly. Some children do not get any teeth before they are a year old, though six months is usually looked upon as the commencement of dentition. In selecting a baby's toys, it is necessary to see that they are not hard enough to hurt the mouth, or rough, so as to scratch and inflame it, as a child naturally tries to bite everything it can lay hands on. Common cheap toys are objectionable, as the paint comes off on the mouth and face. A plain ring of bone or ivory, tied by a broad string of tape or ribbon to a child's waist, will amuse it for hours, and is perfectly safe. Knit dolls are excellent, and the old style "rag baby" is worth a dozen of wax or composition. If a child has a plaything that will be likely to scratch its mouth or put out its eyes, it should be held by the nurse or mother, and never trusted to its powerless little hands.

"THEREADINGCIRCLE OFE., PA.," will find "Markland," by the author of "Margaret Maitland," and the "Memoir of Mrs. Ware," added to their list. We think the plan an excellent one; and, as the books are to be taken in turn when read through, do not see how any ill feeling can grow out of it. We should advise them to take "Household Words," if they can afford but one English magazine.

"MRS. S."—Flannel will not answer the purpose. A half handkerchief of oiled silk, bound with ribbon or flannel binding. Nursery aprons of gingham or chintz, with an oil-silk lining, are much used.

"A. L. S."—For grafting, we have seen the following highly recommended in a paper read before a State agricultural society: Two-thirds resin to one of common beeswax. It will not melt or run.

"A YOUNGAUTHOR" has need of "good courage." In presenting his MSS. to a publisher, send it by express or post,prepaid, with a plain, sensible letter on the subject of the book, and leave it to him or his editor to praise it. Never say "that a partial friend, or friends, advise its publication." If you wish it done, you need offer no excuse; if not, keep it to yourself. Do not expect to make a fortune on your first venture. If you can have it printed free of expense, it is all you ought reasonably to expect. Many are glad to do this. Remember that poems rarely pay for print and binding at the present time, and no young writer can be a finished and original essayist. The essay, above all other forms of composition, needs purity of style, original thought, acute observation, and wide experience.

"MRS. K.," of White Plains.—We would recommend "Kane's Arctic Expedition," and "St. Herndon's Valley of the Amazon;" they are the most popular recent books of travel, and suitable for family reading.

"ALICE" will find we have attended to her request. Cambric sets are still fashionable.

FASHIONS

Having had frequent applications for the purchase of jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance,the Editress of the Fashion Departmentwill hereafter execute commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of a small percentage for the time and research required. Bridal wardrobes, spring and autumn bonnets, dresses, jewelry, bridal cards, cake-boxes, envelopes, etc. etc., will be chosen with a view to economy, as well as taste; and boxes or packages forwarded by express to any part of the country. For the last, distinct directions must be given.

Orders, accompanied by checks for the proposed expenditure, to be addressed to the care of L. A. Godey, Esq., who will be responsible for the amount, and the early execution of commissions.

No order will be attended to unless the money is first received.

Instructions to be as minute as is possible, accompanied by a note of the height, complexion, and general style of the person, on whichmuch dependsin choice. Dress goods from Levy's or Stewart's; cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from Brodie's, 51 Canal Street, New York; bonnets from Miss Wharton's; jewelry from Bailey's or Warden's, Philadelphia, or Tiffany's, New York, if requested.

Fig. 1st.—Walking-dress of green taffeta, a skirt and basque. The skirt is made on a band, very full, long, and plain. The basque is close, and much sloped at the hip. It will be noticed that it is very long, approaching the size of the velvet street basques worn last summer. Sleeves demi-long, and flowing, finished with three ruffles, pinked. Large collar of cambric embroidery. Bonnet of drawn taffeta, the same shade as the dress, a light plume at theright. A simple full cap of blonde inside the brim. Rich scarf, oriental style.

Fig. 2d.—A graceful and serviceable riding-dress, one of the best styles we have had for several seasons, being at once suited to the road and becoming to the figure. The skirt is on a band, or under waist, the ordinary fulness and length. The jacket, with its coat sleeves and rolling collar, fits the figure easily, and rounds over the hips into a short basque. A buff chemisette, in the fashion of a close vest, finished by upright linen collar and small flat necktie. Beaver hat and plume, the crown rather higher than has been worn of late. The material may be either habit cloth, cashmere, or merino. Habit cloth, being heavier, seems more serviceable for the road, and keeps in place better.

This is the favorite month in the year for the display of light and airy styles in our Atlantic cities, the few who have gone to their country houses in advance of the season being replaced by the arrival of Southern and Western belles, refitting at Stewart's, Levy's, Lawson's, Miss Wharton's, and every other fashionable establishment, for the summer campaign at Saratoga and Newport. Every resident has her favorite spring walking-dress, in which to pay her last round of calls, when she leaves her P. P. C., and is "not at home," until autumn comes again, to her dear five hundred friends.

These street dresses are mostly silks, varying from the rich dark poplins andmoir antiqueto the lighterglacéstripes and plaids, or the India foulards, with their close glossy folds. The heavier silks are usually entirely plain in the skirt; evenpoult de soie, the heavy plain-colored silk that comes next to a poplin in richness of effect, has usually only a deep hem at the bottom of the skirt. The basques and sleeves have all the novelties of style and decoration. For these there are new galloons and ribbons appearing daily, matching the silks in shade, or used as a contrast, as taste may dictate. Velvet uncut, plain, and embossed;moir antique, richly watered; brocaded and embroidered ribbons, varying from one to three inches in width, are used for these heavier stuffs, which are now nearly out of season.

The lighter silks are in stripes and plaids of infinite variety. Green and violet seem to be the favorite shades. These are made with flounces, usually three, nearly the same width, the top one measuring the same from the top of the skirt. Fringe in alternate stripes, to correspond with the silk, is used where much trimming is desired on the edge of these flounces, or they may be simply bound or pinked. Pinking is used more than of late, and, in every establishment where it is done, there are a great variety of patterns, many of them elaborate. We have seen a very tasteful walking-dress, of violet and white plaid—a "quadrilled" silk, the manufacturer calls it—made with three flounces as above, the basque trimmed with fringe (alternate white and violet, instead of being mixed, as was the style) three inches deep. This was, in turn, headed by violet satin ribbon an inch wide, box-plaited on, and continuing around the front of the corsage. The sleeves were flowing, with three rows of fringe much narrower, but exactly corresponding, also headed by the plaiting, and fastened on the inside by a knot of rich brocaded ribbon with flowing ends. This, of course, had an exceedingly elegant effect, and could only be worn by a tall, full figure. We describe it to show how elaborate and costly the trimming of dresses are made the present season, while the materials, silks, tissues,barèges, etc., remain much the same as the past year. Box-plaited ribbons, whether plain, pearl-edged satin, brocaded, or plaided, are much used. It is usual to allow twice and a half the desired length of the trimming in purchasing them. Bows of broader and more expensive ribbon are still used for the sleeves and front of the corsage.

For thin materials, asbarège, tissues, etc., in all the fanciful names by which they are called, most of which are manufactured by the importers' clerks, there is every variety of trimming in the shape of gauze ribbons. They have usually a coarse thread in the plain edge, by which they can be drawn up into quillings, ruches, and even box-plaitings. So many yards are used in a full trimming, and it is so expensive, never less, and usually more than a quarter of a dollar a yard, that the trimming and making often cost as much, and even more than the original material.

No city dressmaker, with any pretence to a good style, will undertake to make a dress for less than three dollars. In the really fashionable shops, $4 75 is the charge for making a basque waist, apart from the skirt—silk, buttons, all trimmings charged separately in the bill; so that you have from seven to nine, and even fifteen dollars, to add to the cost of your two yards and a half of silk, the quantity usually purchased for a basque.

We have seen no more tasteful bonnets at any establishment than at Genin's bazaar, which, as most of our readers know, has been elegantly fitted up, and so arranged as to be nearly double the original size, thus leaving plenty of room for a large millinery and dressmaking establishment, carrying out more fully the first design of Mr. Genin. The workwomen have two large and cheerful apartments assigned to them, and the show-room adjoining is always thronged. The nursery department has been removed to this more spacious suite, and the space below the dome is now filled by rows of industrious workers, with the silks and muslins they are manufacturing for the juveniles expressly.

Leghorn bonnets are still worn, though in July and August more dress hats of silk, crape, and lace will be seen. The Leghorns are in unusually good shapes, and trimmed very simply, either with straw, marabout plumes, or plain white ribbons. We speak of the prevailing styles; of course, many tastes are to be suited, and some people would flounce amoir antiquewith the same, if they thought it would look more expensive, and for this class of community ribbons and garlands cannot be too profuse even on a Leghorn, which, if handsome, is generally considered, like a rich silk, to "have no need of ornament." There is a profusion of plain straws of every shape and cost. We notice that they come close, or nearly so, under the chin, and the whole bonnet is a gradual slope from the brim to the crown. They are trimmed in every variety of style, ruches of narrow ribbon box-plaited on, numerous flat bows of ribbon an inch in width disposed as a wreath, etc. etc. Ribbons, as a general thing, are much narrower than the past season, and those long scarf-like strings are not considered in good taste. We have before spoken of the profusion of trimming inside the brim. Blonde caps—a narrow edge of blonde usually sewn upon a broad or wash-blonde lace—are usually almost invariably used to soften the effect of the flowers and ribbon bows that encircle the face. The flowers used are of the most delicate description, made of crape, in strict imitation of nature. Flag flowers, convolvulus, lilac sprays, field violets, and all the more delicate blossoms, are exquisitely reproduced.

FASHION.


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