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fair friends that are ingenious and ac

customed to work from designs, will underNEEDLEWORK.

stand what we mean.

Our second engraving is taken from a MISCELLANEOUS.

moulding or cornice, manufactured, in “ Industry! rough power! papier mâché, by B. F. Bielefeld, 15 Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain: Wellington-street, Strand, London, and Yet, the kind source of every gentle art, And all the soft civility of life.”—Thomson.

exhibited by him (c. 26, No. 157) with a

variety of architectural ornaments, frames, The first engraving represents the &c. The design is very bold, and the centre of a counterpane woven and ex. grouping very tastefully managed.

We hibited (c. 11, No. 42,) by J. Sudworth of have been induced to present this to our Bolton. When our friends are informed readers more particularly, because it is that the design is made by small knots admirably adapted for “Ornamental Leasuch as are generally seen on white coun- ther work." *

As Wordsworth says, terpanes, they will easily conceive the

“ Be this your task immense labour bestowed upon this one, This may be done : 'tis all I ask!" because every knot requires to be pulled up by the hand. And therefore in this one The third engraving is taken from one alone, it has been performed upwards of of the designs outlined upon canvass, in eight' hundred thousand times. It forms colours, and exhibited (c. 19, No. 185) by a very pretty crochet pattern for a d'oyley Mr. A. Hall of Manchester. The principal by omitting the scrolls between the points object in producing these canvasses for of the star in the centre, and working connecting points for them as well as the shionable kind of work. see Vols. IV. and V. of

* For full directions how to practise this fa. other parts of the design. Any of our the Old Series, Family Friend.


points scarlet, the lines enclosing the various compartments, yellow, and the grounding of the compartments cobalt or pale blue.

Our next engraving is taken from one of Mr. J. Sparkes Hall's specimens of his art of boot-making, exhibited (c. 16, No. 163). It is a perforated leather slipper, ornamented with lace rosettes, and tambour-work, and lined with blue silk which shows through the perforations of the leather. It is very pretty, and will no doubt be much admired by the fair sex.

Papier Mâché Moulding --C.F. BIELEFELD,


broidering is to save trouble and ensure rrectness in working, because the pattern ing outlined upon the canvass, the only ng to be done is to work over it. The pve design forms a pretty sofa pillow en worked upon a dark claret ground, the imrocks, worked green, the centre and


Perforated Leather Slipper, ornamented with

tambour-work.-1. S. ILALL, Regent-street, London.

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Before terminating this paper on Ex- bending as if it were sinking and melting hibition Work, which is one of our closing away in its own richness--oh! when did series, we must not omit to mention the ever man make anything to equal the living, famous model rag dolls of Madame A. perfect flower! Montanari, the inventor and sole manu. But the sunlight that streamed through facturer of them, who exhibited them with the window revealed something fairer than the model wax dolls in (c. 29, No. 122). the rose. Reclined on an ottoman, in a The average price of the rag dolls range deep recess, and intently engaged with a from 6s. 6d. to 30s., but it varies ac- l book, rested what seemed the counterpart cording to the size and style of the dress. of that so lovely flower. That cheek so We call particular attention to them pale, that fair forehead so spiritual, that because they are certainly better than the countenance so full of high thought, those hard wooden or the wax ones, as we can long, downcast lashes, and the expression personally testify from sad experience of the beautiful mouth, sorrowful, yet subwhen a child, having had many a rap upon dued and sweet-it seemed like the picture the head with them. Now the rag dolls are of a dream. not likely to prove dangerous weapons in

- Florence! Florence !"' echoed a merry the hands of quarrelsome children, because and musical voice, in a sweet, impatient a blow from one of them could not possibly tone. Turn your head, reader, and you will fracture a child's skull, added to which, see a light and sparkling maiden, the very they look exactly like the waxen ones, model of some little wilful elf, born of without the polish upon their faces. mischief and motion, with a dancing eye,

a foot that scarcely seems to touch the

carpet, and a smile so multiplied by THE TEA-ROSE.

dimples that it seems like a thousand

smiles at once. “ Come, Florence, I say, BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.*

said the little sprite, “put down that wise, THERE it stood, in its little green vase, good, and excellent volume, and descend on a light ebony stand, in the window of from your cloud, and talk with a poor little the drawing-room. The rich satin curtains, mortal.”. with their costly fringes, swept down on The fair apparition, thus adjured, obeyed; either side of it, and around it glittered and, looking up, revealed just such eyes as every rare and fanciful trifle which wealth you expected to see beneath such lids-eyes can offer to luxury, and yet that simple deep, pathetic, and rich as a strain of sad rose was the fairest of them all. So pure music. it looked, its white leaves just touched with “I say, cousin," said the “light ladye,” that delicious creamy tint peculiar to its “I have been thinking what you are to do kind; its cup so full, so perfect; its head with your pet rose when you go to New


-as, to our consternation, you are * Mrs. Harriet E. Beecher Stowe, the authoress determined to do; you know it would be a of that remarkably successful work, "Uncle Tom's Cabin," is the daughter of Rev. Lyman Beecher, sad pity to leave it with such a scatterD.D., and seems to have inherited much of the brain as I am. I do love flowers, that is a splendid talents of her father. She was born at fact; that is, I like a regular bouquet, cut Litchfield, Connecticut, June 15, 1812; and, in off and tied up, to carry to a party ; but as 1836, was married to Professor Calvin E. Stowe, of the Theological Seminary of that place. In

to all this tending and fussing, which is 1850, Professor Stowe accepted a professorship in needful to keep them growing, I have no Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine, where the gifts in that line.” family now reside. Besides the work which has popularized her name far and wide, Mrs. Stowe's

“Make yourself easy as to that, Kate," writings are found principally in the various lite said Florence, with a smile ; "I have no rary and religious periodicals of the country. She intention of calling upon your talents; I has not written so much as some of our female have an asylum in view for my favourite." authors, but what she has written has left a profound impression. She is remarkable for the

“Oh, then you know just what I was qualities of force and clearness. Few readers can going to say. Mrs. Marshall, I presume, resist the current of her argument, and none can has been speaking to you; she was here mistake her meaning. She possesses also a great fund of wit, and a delicate play of fancy not yesterday, and I was quite pathetic upon inferior to our most imaginative writers.

the subject, telling her the loss your

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favourite would sustain, and so forth; and them; it is a greenhouse flower, and used she said how delighted she would be to to delicate living." have it in her green-house, it is in such a “ Oh, as to that, a flower never inquires fine state now, so full of buds. I told her whether its owner is rich or poor; and I knew you would like to give it to her, Mrs. Stephens, whatever else she has not, you are so fond of Mrs. Marshall, you has sunshine of as good a quality as this know."

that streams throngh our window. The “Now, Kate, I am sorry, but I have beautiful things that God makes are his otherwise engaged it.”

gift to all alike. You will see that my "Who can it be to You have so few fair rose will be as well and cheerful in intimates here."

Mrs. Stephens' room as in ours." “Oh, it is only one of my odd fancies.” “Well, after all, how odd! When one “But do tell me, Florence ?"

gives to poor people, one wants to give "Well, cousin, you know the pale little them something usefula bushel of potagirl to whom we give sewing."

toes, a ham, and such things." "What! little Mary Stephens ? How Why, certainly, potatoes and ham absurd! Florence, this is just another of must be supplied; but, having ministered your motherly, old-maidish ways-dressing to the first and most craving wants, why dolls for poor children, making bonnets and not add any other little pleasures or knitting socks for all the dirty little babies gratifications we may have it in our power in the region round about. I do believe to bestow? I know there are many of the you have made more calls in those two poor who have fine feeling and a keen sense vile

, ill-smelling alleys, back of our house, of the beautiful, which rusts out and dies than ever you have in Chesnut - street, because they are too hard pressed to prothough you know everybody is half dying cure it any gratification. Poor Mrs. to see you ; and now, to crown all, you Stephens, for example: I know she would must give this choice little bijou to a enjoy birds, and flowers, and music, as sempstress-girl, when one of your most much as I do. I have seen her eye light intimate friends, in your own class, would up as she looked n these things in our value it so highly. What in the world can drawing-room, and yet not one beautiful people in their circumstances want with thing can she command. From necessity, flowers ?"

her clothing, all she has, must "Just the same as I do,” replied Flo- be coarse and plain. You should have rence, calmly.

“Have you not noticed seen the almost rapture she and Mary felt that the little girl never comes here with when I offered them my rose." out looking wistfully at the opening buds ? “ Dear me! all this may be true, but I And, don't you remember, the other morn- never thought of it before. I never thought ing she asked me so prettil! if I would let that these hard-working people had any her mother come and see it, she was so ideas of taste!" fond of flowers."

“ Then why do you see the geranium or “But, Florence, only think of this rare rose so carefully nursed in the

old cracked flower standing on a table with ham, eggs, teapot in the poorest room, or the morncheese, and flour, and stifled in that close ing-glory planted in a box and twined little room where Mrs. Stephens and her about the window. Do not these show daughter manage to wash, iron, cook, and that the human heart yearns for the beaunobody knows what besides.”

tiful in all ranks of life? You remember, "Well, Kate, and if I were obliged to Kate, how our washerwoman sat up a live in one coarse room, and wash, and whole night after a hard day's work, to iron, and cook, as you say—if I had to make her first baby a pretty dress to be spend every moment of my time in toil, baptized in ?" with no prospect from my window but á Yes, and I remember how I laughed brick wall and dirty lane, such a flower as at you for making such a tasteful little this would be untold enjoyment to me."

“Pshaw! Florence-all sentiment: poor Well, Katy, I think the look of perpeople have no time to be sentimental. fect delight with which the poor mother Besides, I don't believe it will grow with regarded her baby in its new dress and

her room,

cap for it.”

cap, was something quite worth creating; head feel better to see such a beautiful I do believe she could not have felt more flower. Now you will not look so long. grateful if I had sent her a barrel of flour.” | ingly at the flowers in the market, for we

“Well, I never thought before of giving have a rose that is handsomer than any of anything to the poor but what they really them. Why, it seems to me it is worth needed, and I have always been willing to as much to us as our whole little garden do that when I could without going far used to be. Only see how many buds out of my way.”

there are ! Just count them, and only “Well, cousin, if our heavenly Father smell the flower! Now, where shall we gave to us after this mode, we should have set it up?" And Mary skipped about, only coarse, shapeless piles of provisions placing her flower first in one position and lying about the world, instead of all this then in another, and walking off to see the beautiful variety of trees, and fruits, and effect, till her mother gently reminded her flowers."

that the rose-tree could not preserve its Well, well, cousin, I suppose you are beauty without sunlight. right-but have mercy on my poor head ; “Oh yes, truly,” said Mary ; "well, it is too small to hold so many new ideas then, it must stand here on our new stand. all at once—so go on your own way." | How glad I am that we have such a handAnd the little lady began practising a some new stand for it; it will look so much waltzing step before the glass with great better.” And Mrs. Stephens laid down satisfaction.

her work, and folded a piece of newspaper, Another scene now awaits description :- on which the treasure was duly deposited.

It was a very small room lighted by only “There," said Mary, watching the arone window. There was no carpet on the rangement eagerly, " that will dono, for floor; there was a clean, but coarsely, it does not show both the opening buds; a covered bed in one corner; a cupboard, little further around a little more; there, with a few dishes and plates, in the other; that is right;' and then Mary walked a chest of drawers; and before the window around to view the rose in various posistood a small cherry-stand, quite new; tions, after which she urged her mother to and, indeed, it was the only article in the go with her to the outsi le, and see how it room that seemed so.

looked there. “Flow kid it was in Miss A pale, sickly-looking woman, of about Florence to thin): of giving this to us!' forty, was leaning back in her rocking- said Mary ; " though she had done so chair, her eyes closed, and her lips com- much for us, and given us so many things, pressed as if in pain. She rocked back- yet this seems the best of all, because it ward and forward a few minutes, pressed seems as if she thought of us, and knew her hand hard upon her eyes, and then just how we felt; and so few do that, you languidly resumed her fine stitching, on know, mother.” which she had been busy since morning. What a bright afternoon that little gift The door opened, and a slender little girl made in that little room! How much of about twelve years of age entered, her faster Mary's fingers flew the livelong day arge blue eyes dilated and radiant with

as she sat sewing by her mother ; and

Mrs. delight as she bore in the vase, with the Stephens, in the happiness of her child, rose-tree in it.

almost forgot that she had a headach, and “Oh! see, mother, see! Here is one thought, as she sipped her evening cup of in full bloom, and two more half out, and tea, that she felt stronger than she had done ever so many more pretty buds peeping for some time. out of the green leaves."

That rose! Its sweet influence died not The poor woman's face brightened as with the first day. Through all the long, she looked, first on the rose and then on cold winter, the watching, tending, cherish, her sickly child, on whose face she had ing of that flower awakened a thousand not seen so bright a colour for months. pleasant trains of thought, that beguiled

“God bless her!” she exclaimed, un- the sameness and weariness of their life. consciously.

Every day the fair growing thing put “ Miss Florence-yes, I knew you wouid i forth some fresh veauty-a leaf, a bud, a feel so, mother. Does it not make your new shoot, and constantly awakened fresh

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