Don't you believe, Millie, they say she isn't but seventeen, and the author of 'My White Dove,' and the long, continued story in this month's issue of Magazine."

Every vestige of color faded from Millie's cheeks, and, without a word, she left her friend, and rushed to her own room. All that day she paced up and down her apartment, clinching her hands so tightly that the nails lacerated the soft flesh of her palms, and refusing to eat or to come from her room.

At nightfall she heard the ringing of the church bell, and, gazing out of the window, beheld the minister seated in his buggy, while a dark-robed figure sat by his side. She returned to her seat, and, bursting in tears, said, "I must compose myself. No one must know that I, the rich and beautiful Millie Statam, was ever foiled in anything. And, though it will cost me a powerful effort, I will appear before them as the same beautiful Millie, and perhaps I may yet marry some one far superior to Ralph Eldon."

The next day Millie robed herself in her most costly attire, bidding her papa to invite the pastor's wife into their pew. Every one was early that morning, all waiting to get a glimpse of the preacher's wife. At precisely the hour for church exercise the door opened, and Jane's aunt walked in, dressed very neatly. The congregation looked surprised, but had not time to wonder, as she was closely followed by the pastor and his wife. She was tall and well-formed; her graceful figure set off to perfection in the stone-colored silk suit, and the little white hat trimmed with orange-blos

soms.

Mr. Statam arose upon their entrance and ushered her into his pew, where she sat down by Millie's side, when, to every one's astonishment, they recognized Jane Bacon. Millie started, and moved uneasily in her seat, while the hot blood rushed to her face and neck. She gazed towards Allie, who seemed almost as discomfited as herself.

After church all seemed eager to press forward to greet their pastor and his wife. Allie, among the rest, took the young author's hand in hers, and, pressing it tightly, whispered :-"O Mrs. Eldon, forgive me for all the pain I have caused you!"

She returned the pressure, and murmured: "Dear Allie, I have nothing to forgive you."

Millie's greeting was more cold. She was almost dumbfounded, and hastened from the church as soon as possible. However, after a time, appreciating Jane's talents, which were daily developing themselves, she sought her friendship, and was ever after proud of it. She, as well as the rest of Mr. Eldon's congregation, learned an important lesson, namely, never to judge a person by their outward appearance.

PARTED.

BY DAISY WILEY KITTREDGE.

"FAREWELL!" His firm hand closed on mine, His breath so near it waved my hair;

A cricket in the laurustine

Chirped through the silence everywhere.
A lonely song the cricket sang,
I hear it always with a pang

Since that weird time. We were alone,
His lips had almost touched my brow-
A burning flush stole o'er his own,
He murmured, "I must leave you now;
I cannot trust myself to stay,
'Tis well for both I go away."

A moment more and he was gone.
I crushed the roses where I stood
In the dead sunset all alone.

The briers stained my hands with blood;
I flung them, moaning, to the ground,
My heart bled with a deadlier wound.
"I reap the ashes of the seed

I sowed in pleasure's wanton mood.
I taste their bitterness, indeed,

I faint beneath the storm I wooed.
O God!" I wept, "Thy laws are just,
Forgetting Thee, I worshipped dust.
"His image was so fair to see,

So fashioned in the mould of Thine,
It grew more dear than Thine to me-
The human more than the Divine.
I raised an idol up to be
Lord of my life and more than Thee.
I trampled Duty under foot,

I throned my idol in her place.
Chemosh's graven lips were mute,
I read no warning in its face.
"Blind as those Amorites of eld,
I worshipped strange gods, and beheld
No brand of guilt across my soul,

No lightning letters on its walls,
No hand that held its blazing scroll

A beacon light in Memory's halls
To throw its beams across the track
Of hidden Truth and call me back.
"Forgive me, Lord, that I could stray
These moments from Thy paths aside,
That stagnant pools of the highway

Could turn me from the Living Tide;
For where its crystal currents swell
I learned to love Thy vineyard well.
Thy bleeding wounds I could not see

Through creeds that held Thy death in vain, Though standing face to face with Thee,

Blind with the mystery of Thy pain,

Nor yet the sacrificial tree

That crowned the height of Calvary.

"In Thy dear blood and in Thy grace

Let me find hope when love is fled. For me as those in ancient days

Thy side was pierced, Thy blood was shed. Mould me according to Thy will,

Let me not faint beneath the thorns That bind my aching temples still, They formed a Christ's and martyr's crown ; And in Thy human and Divine Absorb this sinful heart of mine."

Do not anxiously expect what is not yet come. Do not vainly regret what is already past.

and tarlatane, containing sweetmeats, together with the books and larger toys which could not be conveniently suspended from the branches of the tree.

cut in eight separate sections, joined together and filled with emery. Then draw some strong thread tightly over every seam, and begin to work the cover with green wool according to

Fig. 2, which shows clearly how the wool is worked around the cushion and passed under every thread. Before the cover of wool is coinpleted, a wire is introduced into the thin end of the pear to form the stalk. This is wound around with green wool, and has two leaves attached. For the latter, proceed as follows: Crochet 15 chain of green wool, and then going back along them, crochet over fine wire 1 double; 13 treble, and for the point 1 chain; along the other side of the foundation chain 1 double, 13 treble, 1 double, 3 double over both ends of wire for the stem of the leaf. The larger leaf is crocheted in a similar way along

and join the ends of the wire together. Then tie the ball of wool with thread in the centre and cut the loops. This forms the centre of the flower. The outside is done with white or lilac wool alternately. Each flower requires 24 loops around the same mesh; the loops are held in place by fine wire, and fastened around the centre ball of yellow. They are then arranged around the cushion and sewn on to the moss.

NEEDLE-BOOK.

FIG. 1 shows the outside, which is of tinted card-board, with a small painting in the centre. The edges are bound with rose-colored ribbon, Fig. 1.

Fig. 1.

a longer foundation chain. The moss is then knitted in several shades of green. Cast on 10 stitches and knit to and fro a strip of considerable length. Cast off. Then damp the work and let it dry again. Cut open the stitches the narrow way of the strip, and unravel them to within 2 stitches of the opposite edge. This marks the head or border of the moss, which is then sewn on to the mat so that each layer of Fig. 2.

moss shall hide the sewing on of the previous layer. For the star-shaped flowers, proceed as follows: Take some yellow wool and wind it about twenty times around a mesh nearly an inch wide, pass some wire through the loops,

and the other has two straps to pass packets of needles through. The flannel leaves are buttonholed at the edges with rose-colored silk,

FAIRY AND SWEETMEAT-BOX. FOR STANDING AROUND CHRISTMAS TREE, ETC. THE foundation is a circular piece of cardboard, measuring nine inches in diameter. It is covered with glazed paper of a bright color, and is ornamented with flowers and foliage. These flowers may be made of colored paper, gummed together, or they may be bought cheaply at an artificial florist's; or, prettier

559

still, natural everlasting flowers may be used with natural evergreen leaves, or artificial

leaves. It is suggested that a variety may be made by cutting out the flowers and leaves in