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Hints on Summer Dress.
and pongee are the materials usually employed
for the ulster, but mohair is preferable, as it In attempting to give a series of hints in re
does not crumple or require doing up. Quiet gard to summer travelling, which shall prove colors, such as gray or brown, are chiefly used. of universal adaptation, one feels almost in
A blouse-waist of washing material might be competent to cover the whole ground. In leav- substituted under the ulster for the waist of the ing home, most people have different ends in dress. view, and to meet every case is clearly impossi
Lisle-thread gloves are worn, and there ble; but general suggestions may be given should be at hand a supply of linen or paper which can be modified to suit individual cases,
collars and cuffs. As linen is very unbecoming and which on the whole may prove of value.
to some ladies, frills may be recommended. Ladies contemplating a visit in some quiet These can be bought in packages of a dozen, village or farm-house, and who will pass the
at prices ranging from fifteen cents a dozen, greater part of their time out of doors, will and are so cheap that they may be thrown away need at least two serviceable costumes devised after having done duty for a day. of material which will not easily crush or be
A rubber waterproof is a useful addition, and injured by the sun, the dust, or an occasional may be compressed within a very small space. summer shower which may come up too rapidly Rubber overshoes should not be forgotten; nor to be avoided. For evening one or two simple is it safe to travel without a shawl. muslin dresses may not be found superfluous, Mountain Costumes.—There are ample opporalthough the evening breezes in the open coun- tunities for delightful excursions up in the try are often so cool that a light shawl is neces
mountains; but nature is a little rugged in her sary,so that even for such purpose thin woollen grandeur, so that to be quite at home and at or silk goods are more to be depended upon. ease, the traveller's dress should be strong and A couple of chintz wrappers are a desirable ad-serviceable as well as pretty, and short enough dition, and also several light sacques, which all around to escape the ground. The shoes with a skirt will form a neat négligé.
should be light, with moderately thick soles One should not commit the unpardonable and flat heels, as a sprained ankle or perhaps a error of supposing that because one is among serious fall would probably be the result of people of plain habits all attention to attractive wearing high heels. ness in dress may be dispensed with. The
Appropriate and very pretty costumes are class of ladies who, when travelling, lay in a made of ginghams, which are so perfected now stock of torn and soiled kid gloves, which once
that they have a silky appearance, and the newdid duty for a ball or dress reception, in order to save what a neat pair of Lisle thread or dark Cashmere, bunting, and light qualities of wool
est shades are beautifully blended in them. colored kid would cost, would consider the so
suitings are also serviceable materials for these journ of some weeks at a farm-house a time for
Plaid wool dresses are pretty, the laying aside of those small finishings and bright and warm for days when a fresh wind accessories of the toilet, the use of which als blows, and it is frequently quite cool in the ways mark the lady.
early mornings and in the evenings when one A polonaise once handsome, but now faded
gets a few thousand feet above the level of the and showing rents, worn without frill or collar in the neck, can never by the memory of departed glories be made a substitute for a tidy, Yachting Styles.—That delightful pastime, fresh garment, which, though of inexpensive yachting, takes one more completely out of the material, is ladylike and attractive, because ordinary city life than any visit to the country. cleanly and appropriate. Yet these substitutes When tossed about on the waves day and are sometimes made, and by persons who, when night, with a charming little cabin for a parlor in the city, would not set foot upon a pavement and the deck the only promenade, there is a deunless wearing an outfit faultless in detail. lightful sense of freedom, in spite of the obvi
vous fact there is very little real freedom at all, For Short Visits.-If a tour among different as one is actually confined on the little craft watering-places is intended, affording only a and there must remain, at any rate, until the few days or a week at each, a comparatively next port is reached. The fresh winds that small number of dresses will prove sufficient, blow health into the cheeks compel ladies to for the obvious reason that they are virtually dress seasonably, and light flannel suits, buntnew in each place. The travelling dress should ings prettily trimmed with plaids and stripes, be of a material which will stand sun, wind, cotton satines with bright flowers on dark and rain; and for this there is nothing more grounds, and écru pongees richly embroidered serviceable than the light wool or silk and in darker shades, are all becoming and serviceawool materials of the day, or a dark colored ble. These dresses look well made as cossilk of light quality. By all means let the tumes, with trimmed skirts, with a coat basque, travelling suit be made in simple style, as de- or long jacket with a vest, as the slightly mas. void as possible of trimming or anything which culine appearance of these garments suits well may prove a resting-place for dust. It is super- the careless, easy time spent on board a yacht. fluous to suggest the especial appropriateness Much trimming and many flounces are out of of the short costume for travelling.
place and inconvenient, so these dresses are Let the hat or bonnet correspond. Select a made rather plainly, which, however, does not kind of trimming which is readily brushed and detract in any way from their style or elegance ; which does not soil easily, and be provided with for, though a dress may be well made and a gauze veil. A broad-brimmed hat of some stylish, the real elegance and cachet is given by kind is indispensable. If rusticating in some the person who wears it. out-of-the-way place, it is quite as essential as A close-fitting, low-crowned sailor hat of on the broad piazza of a fashionable hotel. An coarse straw, or a moderately wide-brimmed ulster is also very desirable. Linen, mohair, | Leghorn or fine Panama, trimmed simply with
a gauze scarf, having ends arranged to carry around the neck, should be worn. Gloves that protect the wrists well from the sun and boots that fit so as to allow a secure tread on the slippery decks are indispensable adjuncts to a vachting toilet.
Boating.-All wool material will be found best adapted to resist the effects of salt water.
Green sloping fields o'er which cloud-shadows pass; The blouse waist, plaited into a yoke back and A quivering splendor tangled in the grass ; front, is appropriately worn with a plaited Sunrise-hued roses throbbing in the air; skirt; or a loose sailor blouse, cut out in a
The starry blackberry blossoms here and there
And on divinest skies white clouds that lay round low neck and worn over a chemisette As air of heaven in drifts had dropped away; gathered very full about the throat, with a full Rapture of birds at dawn-a hush at noonfrill standing up above a neckband of narrow
Ah! by my heart's wild beating-it is Fune!
Mrs. L. C. WHITUN. ribbon ,gives a piquant, dainty effect to a blonde type of beauty that cannot be excelled. A low
July. crowned sailor hat and a light, warm shawl, to
The summer harvest day begun be used after the exertion of rowing, should not With cloudless dawn and flaming sun : be omitted.
Ripe grain the sickle flashes through ; An excellent way to save the hands when
The sweep of scythes in morning dew;
The nooning underneath the trees rowing is to make a pair of long-wristed “half
Made cool by sea or mountain breeze; handed” gloves of chamois leather. These can The thunder shower, the clearing sky, be washed whenever they get soiled, and by
And sunset splendor of July,
John G. WHITTIER. pulling and rubbing them can be kept soft. Hints to be Observed.---One thing indispensa
August. ble to good rowing is to have the clothing fit
BUTTERCUP nodded and said, "Good-by!" easily at the armholes and waist, so as not to
Clover and daisy went off together,
But the fragrant water-lilies lie strain out the seams, as rowing is one of the Yet moored in the golden August weather. exercises that is particularly hard on clothing.
The swallows chatter about their flight, When a party take a sail on lake or river, for
The cricket chirps like a rare good fellow,
The asters twinkle in clusters bright, the pleasure to be derived from it, costumes of While the corn grows ripe and the apples mellow, any woollen or silk material may be worn, but
CELIA THAXTER. all wool is preferable. Cambrics or muslins - From "The Children's Almanac” (D. Lothrop & Co.). may be worn if one does not need to practice economy in laundry bills. In fishing or crab
The Open Sky. bing it is best to wear any old costume that
BY JOHN RUSKIN. looks at all respectable, for fish will splutter and spatter one in spite of all precautions, when
It is a strange thing how little in general they are removed from the hook, which is ruin- people know about the sky. It is the part ous to clothing. Old kid gloves, with the ends of creation in which nature has done more of the fingers cut off, will preserve the hands. for the sake of pleasing man, more for the
sole and evident purpose of talking to him Bathing Costumes.-A bathing suit, to be com- and teaching him, than in any other of her fortable, should be fitted to the neck, shoulders, works; and it is just the part in which we bust, and armholes just as carefully as the most least attend to her. There are not many of elegant dress. It need not fit so snugly, but it her other works in which some more mamust follow the curves of the form ; and while terial or essential purpose than the mere pleasallowing free motion to the arms, it must not ing of man is not answered by every part of drag about them and excoriate them with every their organization ; but every essential purmovement.
pose of the sky might, so far as we know, be The most appropriate material is twilled flan- answered, if once in three days or thereabouts, nel or moreen, as these do not cling to the a great ugly black rain-cloud were brought up figure when wet. The trimming should be rows over the blue, and everything well watered, of alpaca braid, either forming the entire garni- and so all left blue again till next time, with ture or in combination with bands of all-wool perhaps a film of morning and evening mist delaine of a contrasting color. A bow of black for dew. And instead of this, there is not a lutestring ribbon, which will not be injured by moment of any day of our lives when nature water, is tied at the neck. Turkish towel- is not producing scene after scene, picture ling is largely used for this purpose, and trim- after picture, glory after glory, and working med with a bright color looks exceedingly still upon such exquisite and constant principretly; but all-wool goods is better than any ples of the most perfect beauty, that it is quite other, as it keeps the body warm. Circulars certain it is all done for us, and intended for or cloaks made of Turkish towelling are used our perpetual pleasure. And every man, by ladies who frequent any of the fashionable wherever placed, however far from other
These are made in the “burnous sources of interest or of beauty, has this doing style," or with wide sleeves like the " Hor- for him constantly. The noblest scenes of the tense.” A garment of this kind is only used earth can be seen and known but by few; it is by those who have a maid or some friend in not intended that man should live always in attendance to relieve them of it as they enter the midst of them; he injures them by his the water, and to have it in readiness as soon presence, he ceases to feel them if he be always as the bath is over, as its use is to shield a with them. But the sky is for all; bright as it is, dripping figure from currents of air as well as it is not too bright nor good for human nature's from the gaze of spectators.-- From the N. Y. daily food;" it is fitted in all its functions for Herald.
the perpetual comfort and exalting of the heart,
for soothing it and purifying it from its dross His first food is milk; so is his last and all beand dust. Sometimes gentle, sometimes capri- tween. He can taste and assimilate and absorb cious, sometimes awful, never the same for nothing but liquids. The same is true through. two moments together ; almost human in its out all organic nature. 'Tis water-power that passions, almost spiritual in its tenderness, makes every wheel move. Without this great almost divine in its infinity, its appeal to what solvent, there is no life. I admire immensely is immortal in us is as distinct as its ministry this line of Walt Whitman : of chastisement or of blessing to what is mor
“The slumbering and liquid trees." tal is essential. And yet we never attend to it, we never make it a subject of thought, but
The tree and its fruit are like a sponge which * as it has to do with our animal sensations; we
the rains have filled. Through them and look upon all by which it speaks to us more through all living bodies 'there goes on the clearly than to brutes, upon all which bears
commerce of vital growth, tiny vessels, fleets witness to the intention of the Supreme that and succession of fleets, laden with material we are to receive more from the covering vault bound for disiant shores, to build up, and rethan the light and the dew which we share with pair, and restore the waste of the physical the weed and the worm, only as a succession frame. of meaningless and monotonous accident, too
Then the rain means relaxation; the tension common and too vain to be worthy of a moment
in nature and in all her creatures is lessened. of watchfulness or a glance of admiration. If, The trees drop their leaves, or let go their riin our moments of utter idleness and insipi pened fruit. The tree itself will fall in a still, dity, we turn to the sky as a last resource, damp day, when but yesterday it withstood a which of its phenomena do we speak of? gale of wind. A moist south wind penetrates One says it has been wet, and another it has
even the mind and makes its grasp less tenabeen windy, and another it has been warm.
cious. It ought to take less to kill a man on a Who, among the whole chattering crowd, can
rainy day than on a clear. The direct support tell me of the forms and the precipices of the of the sun is withdrawn ; life is under a cloud ; chain of tall white mountains that girded the
a masculine mood gives place to something horizon at noon yesterday? Who saw the nar:
like a feminine. In this sense, rain is the grief, row sunbeam that came out of the south, and the weeping of Nature, the relief of a burdened smote upon their summits until they melted
or agonized heart. But tears from Nature's and moulded away in a dust of blue rain ? Who eyelids are always remedial, and prepare the saw the dance of the dead clouds when the way for brighter, purer skies. sunlight left them last night, and the west wind
I think rain is as necessary to the mind as to blew them before it like withered leaves ? All vegetation. Who does not suffer in his spirit has passed, unregretted as unseen ; or if the
in a drought and feel restless and unsatisfied ? apathy be ever shaken off, even for an instant, My very thoughts become thirsty and crave the it is only by what is gross or what is extra
moisture. It is hard work to be generous, or ordinary. And yet it is not in the broad and neighborly, or patriotic in a dry time, and as fierce manifestations of the elemental energies, for growing in any of the finer graces or virnot in the clash of the hail, nor the drift of the tues, who can do it? One's very manhood whirlwind, that the highest characters of the shrinks, and if he is ever capable of a mean act sublime are developed. God is not in the
or of narrow views, it is then. earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the still small voice. — From “ Ruskin on Painting.” (Appleton.)
I suppose there is some compensation in a
drought ; Nature doubtless profits by it in some The Blessing of the Rain.
way. It is a good time to thin out her garden
and give the law of the survival of the fittest a BY JOHN BURROUGHS.
chance to come into play. How the big trees The great fact about the rain is that it and big plants do rob the little ones! there is is the most beneficent of all the operations not drink enough to go around, the strongest of nature; more immediately than sunlight will have what there is. It is a rest to vegetaeven, it means life and growth. Moisture tion, too, a kind of torrid winter that is followis the Eve of the physical world, the soft ed by a fresh awakening. Every tree and plant teeming principle given to wife to Adam or learns a lesson from it, learns to shoot its roots heat, and the mother of all that lives. Sun-down deep into the perennial supplies of moisshine abounds everywhere, but only where ture and life. the rain or dew follows is there life. The But when the rain does come, the warm, sunearth had the sun long before it had the humid distilled rain ; the far-travelling, vapor-born cloud, and will doubiless continue to have it rain ; the impartial, undiscriminating, unstintafter the last drop of moisture has perished or ed rain ; equable, bounteous, myriad-eyed, been dissipated. The moon has sunshine searching out every plant and every spear of enough, but no rain; hence it is a dead world grass, finding every hidden thing that needs -a lifeless cinder. ..
water, falling upon the just and upon the unjust, The first water-how much it means ! Seven sponging off every leaf of every tree in the fortenths of man himself is water. Seven tenths est and every growth in the fields ; music to of the human race rained down but yesterday ! the ear, a perfume to the smell, an enchantment It is much more probable that Cæsar will flow to the eye; healing the earth, cleansing the air, out of a bung-hole than that any part of his re- renewing the fountains ; honey to the bee, mains will ever stop one.
Our life is indeed a manna to the herds and life to all creaturesvapor, a breath, little moisture condensed what spectacle so fills the heart? “Rain, rain, upon the pane. We carry ourselves as in a 0, dear Zeus, down on the ploughed fields of phial. Cleave the flesh, and how quickly we the Athenians, and on the plains." spill out! Man begins as a fish, and he swims There is a fine sibilant chorus audible in the in a sea of vital fluids as long as his life lasts. sod and in the dust of the road and in the por.
ous ploughed fields. Every grain of soil and
- as the window-seat - suggestive of every root and rootlet purrs in satisfaction. placid repose : a strange opposite mixture Because something more than water comes throughout of flowery peace and silence, with down when it rains ; you cannot produce this an almost total lack of modern conveniences effect by simple water; the good-will of the ele- and appliances of comfort - as though the ments, the consent and approbation of all the sinewy vigor of the residents disdained artiskyey influences, come down; the harmony, ficial ease. the adjustment, the perfect understanding of In the oaken cupboards—not black, but a deep the soil beneath and the air that swims above tawny color with age and frequent polishingare implied in the marvellous benefaction of may be found a few pieces of old china, and on the rain.-From “ Locusts and Wild Honey" the table at tea-time, perhaps, other pieces, (Houghton, Osgood & Co.).
which a connoisseur would tremble to see in use, lest a clumsy arm should shatter their fra. gile antiquity. Though apparently so little
valued, you shall not be able to buy these Spring and Summer.
things for money-not so much because their In spring we note the breaking
artistic beauty is appreciated, but because of Of every baby bud,
the instinctive clinging to everything old, charIn spring we note the waking of wild flowers of the wood;
acteristic of the place and people. These have In summer's fuller power,
been there of old time : they shall remain still. In summer's deeper soul,
Somewhere in the cupboards, too, is a curiousWe watch no single flower,
ly carved piece of iron, to fit into the hand, with We sce, we breathe the whole !
á front of steel before the fingers, like a skele- From “ Apple-Blossoms," by Dora Read Goodale
ton rapier guard ; it is the ancient steel with which, and a flint, the tinder and the sulphur
match were ignited. An Old Homestead.
Up in the lumber-room are carved oaken
bedsteads of unknown age ; linen-presses of The stream, after leaving the village and the black oak with carved panels, and a drawer at washpool, rushes swistly down the descending the side for the lavender-bags; a rusty rapier, slope, and then entering the meadows, quickly the point broken off ; a flintlock pistol, the loses its original impetuous character. Not barrel of portentous length, and the butt weight. much more than a mile from the village it flows ed with a mace-like knob of metal, wherewith placidly through meads and pastures, a broad, to knock the enemy on the head. deep brook, thickly fringed with green flags, The parlor is always full of flowers—the man. bearing here and there large yellow flowers. By telpiece and grate in spring quite hidden by some old thatched cattle-sheds and rick-yards, fresh green boughs of horse-chestnut in bloom, overshadowed with elm trees, a strong bay or or with lilac, bluebells, or wild hyacinths ; in dam crosses it, forcing the water into a pond summer nodding grasses from the meadows, for the cattle, and answering the occasional roses, sweet-brier ; in the autumn two or three purpose of a ford; for the laborers in their great apples, the finest of the year, put as orna. heavy boots walk over the bay, though the cur- ments among the china, and the corners of the rent rises to the instep. They call these sheds, looking-glass decorated with bunches of ripe some few hundred yards from the farmhouse, wheat. A badger's skin lies across the back of the “ Lower Pen.” Wick Farm-almost every the arm-chair; a fox's head, the sharp white village has its outlying “ wick”-stands alone tusks showing, snarls over the doorway; and in the fields. It is an ancient, rambling build. in glass cases are a couple of stuffed kingfishing, the present form of which is the result ofers, a polecat, a white blackbird, and a diversuccessive additions at different dates, and in rare here—shot in the mere hard by.-From various styles.
“Wild Life in a Southern County" (Roberts). When a homestead like this has been owned and occupied by the same family for six or seven generations, it seems to possess a distinct personality of its own. A history grows up round about it; memories of the past accumulate, and
Honey-Flowers. are handed down fresh and green, linking to.
BY JOHN BURROUGHS, day and seventy years ago as if hardly any lapse of time had intervened. The inmates talk fa. The first spring wild flowers, whose shy miliarly of the “
comet year," as if it was but faces among the dry leaves and rocks are so just over ; of the days when a load of wheat welcome, yield no honey. The anemone, the was worth a little fortune ; of the great snows hepatica, the bloodroot, the arbutus, the nuand floods of the previous century. They date merous violets, the spring beauty, the coryevents from the year when the formeads were dalis, etc., woo all lovers of nature, but do not purchased and added to the patrimony, as if woo the honey-loving bee. It requires more that transaction, which took place ninety years sun and warmth to develop the saccharine elebefore, was of such importance that it must ment, and the beauty of these pale striplings of necessarily be still known to all the world. the woods and groves is their sole and suffi
The house has somehow shaped and fitted cient excuse for being. The arbutus, lying low itself to the characters of the dwellers within it: and keeping green all winter, attains to perhidden and retired among trees, fresh and green fume, but not to honey. with cherry and pear against the wall, yet the The first honey is perhaps obtained from the brown thatch and the old bricks subdued in flowers of the red maple and the golden willow. tone by the weather. This individuality ex- The latter sends forth a wild, delicious perfume. tends to the furniture; it is a little stiff and The sugar maple blooms a little later, and from angular, but solid, and there are nooks and lits silken tassels a rich nectar is gathered. My
bees will not label these different varieties for
The Same Old Story. me as I really wish they would. Honey from SHE read until she could not see the maple, a tree so clean and wholesome, and
(Did Ivanhoe e'er weary?), full of such virtues every way, would be some
Then dropped the book upon her knee
And said her life was dreary ; thing to put one's tongue to. Or that from the
"From day to day I still must tread blossoms of the apple, the peach, the cherry, The same dull round of duty, the quince, the currant-one would like a card
Of darning socks and baking bread,
Without one glimpse of beauty, of each of these varieties to note their peculiar
From week to week my land-marks arequalities. The apple-blossom is very important A sermon dull on Sunday, to the bees. A single swarm has been known
And Friday night the Plumville Star. to gain twenty pounds in weight during its
The weekly wash on Monday:
And oh! there's never a line of grace continuance. Bees love the ripened fruit, too, And never a hint of glory," and in August and September will suck them- She sighed and lengthened her pretty faceselves tipsy upon varieties, like the sops-of
"It's always the same old story." wine.
She dried her eyes and curled her hair
And went to the conference meeting, The interval between the blooming of the
From the garden gate to the vestry stair fruit-trees and that of the clover and raspberry
The self-same words repeating. is bridged over in many localities by the honey
At last the final hymn was sung locust. What a delightful summer murmur
And all the prayers were ended,
And one from the doorway crowd among these trees send forth at this season. I know
Her homeward steps attended. nothing about the quality of the honey, but it They left at length the village street ought to keep well. But when the red rasp
sprang the low wall
To cross through Captain Peaslee's wheat berry blooms, the fountains of plenty are un
And Deacon Bascombe's clover. sealed indeed ; what a commotion about the The moon seemed shining overhead hives then, especially in localities where it is
To flood their path with glory;
They whispered low, but what they said extensively cultivated, as in places along the
Was-only the same old story! Hudson. The delicate white clover, which be
_"Ruth Mariner," in Springfield Republican. gins to bloom about the same time, is neglected; even honey itself is passed by for this mo
Collecting Ferns. dest, colorless, all but odorless flower. A field of these berries in June sends forth a continu- Most people, in their summering, try to ous murmur like that of an enormous hive. take home a few ferns for cultivation.
Mr. The honey is not so white as that obtained from John Robinson in his pleasant book about clover, but it is easier gathered ; it is in shallow " Ferns in their Homes and Ours" (S. E. cups, while that of the clover is in deep tubes. Cassino) tells how to do it successfully : The bees are up and at it before sunrise, and it "When we meet them in their full beauty takes a brisk shower to drive them in. But the they are in the most unfavorable state for clover blooms later and blooms everywhere, transplanting, as, in the vigor of its growand is the staple source of supply of the finest ing condition in its natural home, a fern quality of honey. The red clover yields up will endure little rough handling, and requires its stores only to the longer proboscis of the tender care to persuade it to grow in any other bumble-bee, else the bee pasturage of our agri- place. It would be better to wait till the seacultural districts would be unequalled.
son's activity is passed, which it is probable The rose, with all its beauty and perfume, we cannot do; or collect our ferns in the early yields no honey to the bee, unless the wild spe spring, before the croziers unroll; but when cies be sought by the bumble-bee.
the plants are in this condition, only an exAmong the humbler plants let me not forget perienced botanizer knows what to look for and the dandelion that so early dots the sunny where to find it. Suppose, then, that in July slopes, and upon which the bee languidly or August we wish to obtain a small collecgrazes, wallowing to his knees in the golden tion of our native ferns in their living state. but not over-succulent pasturage. From the The best way of transporting them is, of course, blooming rye and wheat the bee gathers pollen, with their fronds uncrushed, in a box or basket also from the obscure blossoms of Indian corn. of sufficient size. But this is not always pracAmong weeds, catnip is the great favorite. It ticable. It may be necessary to condense them lasts nearly the whole season and yields richly. into the smallest possible space. As we collect It could no doubt be profitably cultivated in them the ferns can be kept in a bowl or basket some localities, and catnip honey would be a till we are preparing for our journey, home. novelty in the market. It would probably par. When we gather them the roots should be caretake of the aromatic properties of the plant fully dug up, not wrenched from their surfrom which it was derived.
roundings; and, when we begin to get them Among your stores of honey gathered before ready for their travels, should not be very wet. midsummer you may chance upon a card, or Suffer the plants to remain without water a day mayhap only a square inch or two of comb, in or two before packing, only do not allow them which the liquid is as transparent as water, of a to become exactly dry. Then we may shake delicious quality, with a slight Aavor of mint. off as much of the earth as will readily fall This is the product of the linden or basswood, away, and, wrapping each fern with a bit of of all the trees in our forest the one most be- damp (not wet) moss, roll it up in a bit of paloved by the bees. Melissa, the goddess of per large enough to hold all together, tying honey, has placed her seal upon this tree. The the parcel with a thread. The fronds should wild swarms in the woods frequently reap a all project beyond the moss and paper, and choice harvest from it. I have seen a mountain- only enough of them be left to insure a healthy side thickly studded with it, its straight, tall, start the next season-three or four on an ordi. smooth, light-gray shaft carrying its deep-green nary and six on a very large plant. To rememcrown far aloft, like the tulip or maple. --- From ber how the ferns looked (for we are not yet sup"Locusts and Wild Honey" (iloughton, O. & Co.). I posed to know their names), it is a good plan