dark hair wreathed around her head and fastened with a bodkin to the summit, and a scarlet mantle wrapped around her. Now-a-days, the toilet of a lady is exactly conducted upon the principles most becoming to all ; few figures look ill in the sweeping robes and lengthened corsage --- ample and stately, without stiffness; ankles, however thick, are concealed by the long dresses, now the mode. Features, however coarse, can be softened and shaded into something like symmetry, by the judicious arrangement of locks, permitted to be worn in bands, or braids, or ringlets, just as best suits the face they surround. And while no arbitrary fashion forces the exposure of a frightful profile, a clumsy arm, a ponderous ankle, no rule exists to prevent the reverse of these being shown. Every lady is at liberty to bring out her own “good points” as she thinks best, and it is easy to do so, as well as to conceal her weak ones, without departing from the fashions that prevail. 198 THE SEWING CIRCLE. THE SEWING CIRCLE. “I cannot stop to alter words once written." READER, did you ever go Hark! the door-bell - who is there? “ Ladies, - Esquire.” Then's renewed the merry hum; Gayly welcomed as they come, Father, brother, friend, and lover, Dick, the statesman, Will, the rover, Help to swell the careless ring, Laugh or chat, or sigh or sing. Time hath wings, the sages say ; Sure to-night he would not stay ; Soon, full soon the hour's come round, And we all are “homeward bound.” Here's a melee, - great and small, Thronging through the entrance hall ; But the night is dark at best, So, kind reader guess the rest. INNOCENT PLEASURES. Few rightly estimate the worth 200 WOMAN AND FAME. WOMAN AND FAME. Thou hast a charmed cup, O Fame! A draught that mantles high, Above mortality. Thou hast green laurel leaves, that twine Into so proud a wreath ; Heroes have smiled in death ; Thou hast a voice, whose thrilling tone Can bid each life-pulse beat, Calling the brave to meet : Fame, Fame! thou canst not be the stay Unto the drooping reed, Of the soul's feverish need : DOUBT NOT. WHEN the day of life is dreary, And when gloom thy course enshrouds, When thy steps are faint and weary, And thy spirit dark with clouds, Steadfast still in thy well-doing, Let thy soul forget the past ; Steadfast still the right pursuing, Doubt not! joy shall come at last. Striving still and onward pressing, Seek no future years to know, It shall come, though it be slow; Let thy fears aside be cast, And thy trials tempting, braving, Doubt not! joy shall come at last. His fond eye is watching o'er thee His strong arm shall be thy guard It shall lead to thy reward. Mould the future by the past Doubt not ! joy will come at last. |