them to take her innocent boy from his miserable home, she answered with quiet smile: a "The time has not come yet, father. Henry has never treated us with personal unkindness. Even in his wildest moments, a word from me will often quiet him, and I have seen tears on his cheek when little Arthur kneels to repeat his evening prayer. There is yet hope. His heart is not utterly hardened. Surely you would not have me leave him to destruction. The dark shadow which has fallen upon us will pass away, and we shall again be united in a purified and exalted love." To such appeals the father could only shake his head mournfully, as if these were to him vain anticipations. Little could be done for Helen's comfort, excepting to protect her from actual want; for nothing which could be turned into money was safe from the selfish grasp of her husband. Even her own personal property, articles of jewellery, which she valued as remembrances from those she loved, had, one by one, disappeared. It was near the close of a sultry summer's afternoon. Helen sat in her scantily furnished apartment with little Arthur, now a lovely boy of four years, by her side. The husband and father was absent, and there was little reason to expect him home until a late hour of the night, for midnight carousing had now become an habitual custom. Still there was a chance that he might return to the evening meal; and Helen now laid aside her work, and rose to prepare the tempting morsel which she knew would suit his appetite, and also the more simple refreshment for herself and her boy. It was her own choice to perform this task herself, for she shrunk from the thought of another witness to the constant degradation of her husband. The oppressive state of the air increased the usual depressed state of her spirits, and she sighed so frequently and heavily that little Arthur stole to her side, and slipping his hand into her's, said softly; "Are you tired, mamma? I will help you to set the table." "Thank you, dearest," was the reply. "I do not feel very well this evening. I shall be glad of your help." 66 You are not sick, like poor father," continued the little boy, as he carefully placed the plates on the table. ! "He has been sick a long time. How soon will he get well, mamma?" "I do not know, dear. We will pray to our heavenly Father for him." "Yes, mamma, I do always pray that the Lord will make him better, and one day I thought the Lord had heard my prayer, for father patted my head and gave me some sugar-plums; and when I put my arms round his neck and kissed him, he cried just as you do sometimes, mamma; but he soon grew sick again, and now he does not speak to me at all." Tears rolled down the mother's cheeks as she listened to the artless prattle of her pure-minded boy; but she endeavoured to control her feelings, and bade the child still to pray for his father, for the Lord would always hear his prayer, and in His own good time would make him well. The beauty of the summer's afternoon was gone. The sky was completely overcast, and one huge cloud of frightful blackness was rapidly rising. The wind moaned and sighed among the trees, and low peals of distant thunder were occasionally heard. There was every prospect of a violent tempest, and Helen hastened her preparations for supper, in the hope that her husband would seek refuge in his own home. In this she was not disappointed. The street door slammed heavily, and his well-known step was heard in the entry. He came in without apparent notice of his wife or child, and walked hurriedly to and fro in their small apartment. Helen saw at once that he had been drinking,-not enough to ap pease his unquenchable thirst, but suffi cient to produce irritation and partial derangement of the senses. At her well-known sign, little Arthur seated himself quietly in his chair, and with a picture-book in his hand remained almost motionless. Half an hour passed. and the hurried walk was still continued. Helen's gentle summons to the table was disregarded, excepting by an impatient gesture. The storm had increased, and was now raging fearfully. Suddenly Henry paused, and turning to Helen, demanded if she had not in her possession a golden locket containing his miniature and hair. Helen trembled. It was the last trinket she possessed, and it had been carefully preserved that her boy might see what his father had once been. She could could not part with it, even if she incurred his displeasure by a refusal. Mildly she replied: "Yes, Henry, I have the locket; I am keeping it for Arthur." "Give it to me. It is no longer of any value to you or him," said her husband. "Indeed, Henry, it is of inestimable value to me, and I cannot think of parting with it." The miserable man uttered an exclamation of impatience. Have you any money, then?" he continued. "Something I must have." "I have no money, Henry. But come and take the nice tea which I have provided for you. And look, here is your favourite dish," removing a cover as she spoke. "I want nothing to eat. If you have no money, give me the locket at once?" "I cannot, Henry." Irritated by her refusal, he again paced the room restlessly, while little Arthur crept close to his mother and whispered "I have the gold piece my grandfather gave me, mamma. Shall I give that to poor father? Perhaps it will make him well." 'No, dearest; money would make him worse. Do not say that you have any." But the whisper had been partially overheard, and Henry turned to his boy. "Have you any money, Arthur? Give it to me. I will bring it to you again." The child hesitated. He looked at his mother for direction, but she was unable to help him. At length he said: "I cannot give you the money, father, because mamma says it would make you worse. She knows the best. One day I eat some raisins when she told me not to, and they made me sick. When you are quite well, I will give you all my money.' Unaffected by the simplicity and sweetness of the answer, the father replied, angrily: "What nonsense you have put into the child's head, Helen. Give me the money at once, Arthur! I command you to do so.' The child still lingered, and exasperated by his delay, the infuriated man raised his hand to strike, but Helen sprang forward, and throwing herself upon her knees before him, flung her arms around the boy, exclaiming "No, Henry,-not that! for the love of heaven, strike not our innocent boy! Sever not the only tie which now binds us together." But her appeal was lost upon one whose better feelings slumbered too deep for an earthly voice to awaken them. His wrath turned upon her, and the blow intended for the child would have fallen upon the devoted wife and mother, had not the voice of God himself arrested the uplifted arm. A flash of lightning so vivid that the eyes involuntarily closed before it, followed or rather accompanied by a deafening peal of thunder, and the crash of a part of the house in which they stood, was followed by that deathlike silence which often succeeds this concussion of the elements. In the middle of the room stood the husband with his arm still raised over the lovely beings who knelt awestruck and motionless at his feet, all unhurt in the midst of the destruction that surrounded them. Fragments of glass, piles of mortar, and large splinters of wood, gave fearful evidence of the mighty power around them. The arm of the guilty one was still raised, but no longer in insane wrath. The whole expression of his countenance had changed-his soul bowed before his Creator and Father, and the first sound which aroused Helen from the temporary suspension of her faculties which had followed that fearful crash, was the deep full tones of her husband's voice, which thrilled to her heart as in days of old, uttering fervent prayers and thanksgivings for their miraculous preservation from a sudden and dreadful death. Instantly her arms were twined around him, her head rested upon his bosom, and by the side of their child they kneeled, while Henry solemnly vowed that the cup of intoxication should never again be raised to his lips; and with a full sense of his own weakness, earnestly and humbly prayed to the Only Source of Strength. The vow thus registered was never broken. TRIMMING FOR A CHILD'S DRESS, IN ERODERIE ANGLAISE. Materials. French muslin, and W. Evans & Co.'s white embroidery cotton, Nos. 40 and 50. WE give here a pattern for the flounce of a little girl's dress, and the edging for the sleeves and body, such a design hav ing been requested by several of our fair friends. It is very quickly done, which may be considered as a great recommendation. The pattern is given the full size, so that the muslin may be marked from it. All the parts which are black in the engraving, are cut out of the muslin altogether. These holes are traced round several times and worked over in graduated CROCHET FLOWERS-HEART'S-EASE-BY MRS. PULLAN. buttonhole stitches. In working those at the edge of the scallop, the stitches of one must touch those of the preceding one, so as to form, of themselves, an edge, beyond which a scallop of plain raised buttonhole stitch is made. The small leaves should also be cut out, and sewed over. The tracing should be done with No. 40 cotton, and No. 50 should be used for all the sewing. velvet-like surface peculiar to the heart'sease. It is, however, indispensable that flowers made of chenille should be kept under a glass shade, as the least particle of dust destroys them. The muslin should be tacked on toile cirée, before being worked. The design given is very suitable for trimming the small mandarin sleeves now worn, and it is particularly adapted for amateur workers, as a good effect is produced with very little trouble. CROCHET FLOWERS.-HEART'S - EASE. Materials-Violet-coloured wool, 1 skein; yellow ditto, and green, two shades of each, and 1 kein; a skein of coarse black sewing silk, and some very fine green wire. THOSE who prefer it, may use fine chenille instead of Berlin wool for these flowers; that material giving the rich For each flower cut five pieces of wire, four inches long. The wire is about the thickness of Evans's Boar's Head Cotton, No. 40. THE PURPLE PETALS. 8 Ch; take the wire, and hold it in the left hand parallel with the chain, working it in at every stitch; miss 1, 1 Sc in the next, 1 semidouble crochet in. next, 2 Dc in the next two, 2 De in one in the next, 2 Tc in one in the next, 5 Te in the last; fold the wire, and work down the other side of the chain; 2 Te in the first, 2 Dc in the next, 1 Dc in each of the two next, last. Slip stitch at the end, on the first 1 semi-double in the next, 1 Sc in the Sc, and make one chain. Cut off the wool, leaving about 1 inches. Twist this a little, with the two ends of the wire. Make two purple petals. A semi-double stitch is begun like a double crochet, but after drawing the loop of wool through the chain, when three threads are on the needle, bring a loop of wool through all three at once. It forms a medium stitch between a Sc and a Dc. We need scarcely remind our readers that the first stitch of a chain is never counted. SMALL YELLOW PETALS, of which two are required for every flower. 7 Sc with the darker yellow; hold in a piece of wire, and work on one side of the chain, 1 Sc, 2 semi-double, 1 Dc, 2 De in one, 5 De in the last; on the other side,-2 De in one, 1 Dc, 2 semi- Dc, 1 Sc, 1 slip on the first Sc, 1 Ch; cut off the wool, leaving a small end, and twisting it with the wire. LARGE YELLOW PETAL, with the lighter shade. 6 Ch; hold in a piece of wire, and work on the chain, 1 Sc, 1 semidouble, 1 De in the next, 1 Te in the same, 1 Te in the next, and on this Tc a De must be worked; 1 Te in the last, 1 De on it, 5 more Te in the same, 1 De on the last, 1 Te on the first chain stitch on the other side, 1 De on it, 1 Te and 1 De on the next, 1 semi-double on the next, 1 Sc on the next; 1 slip stitch and a chain to finish. Cut off the wool, and twist all the ends together; take a piece of wire 8 inches long, bend it in half, and slip both the points through the heart of the flower; cover the stem with dark green wool. Take a needleful of black silk, and work five long stitches on the large petal, and three on the small ones, making them of unequal lengths, and radiated from the base. To make a group of Heart's-ease well, a variety of specimens should be introduced. Some may be entirely purple or golden; and larger or smaller than the directions given. The leaves should be made of several shades of green; and two may be allowed for each flower. 20 Ch; take a piece of green cannetille, the length of a finger, slip the end in the last chain stitch, and work over it, on the chain, 2 Sc, 2 Sdc, 2 Dc, 1 Sde, 1 Sc, 1 Sdc, 5 Dc, 1 Sde, 1 Sc, 1 Sdc, 1 Dc. Bend the wire, and work on the other side of the chain, Sc in one, 1 Dc, 1 Sdc, 1 Sc, 1 Sdc, 5 Dc, 1 Sdc, Sc, 1 Sdc, 2 Dc, 2 Sde, 2 Sc. Slip a stitch at the end, in the first Sc; make one chain, and cut off the wool, twisting the end in, with the ends of wire. GARDENER'S COLUMN. FLOWER GARDEN AND SHRUBBERY.Annuals will now be generally out of bloom, and with few exceptions, should be entirely removed, as the saving of seed, unless in few instances, should never be attempted in well kept gardens, and the seeds themselves can be purchased at so trifling an expense, that it hardly repays the trouble. The vacancies left by their removal should be filled up by wallflowers and other biennial flowering plants; and by spring bulbs, of various kinds, which will add much to the gaiety of the borders next spring. The latter, when planted, should be labelled, that they may not he disturbed in cleaning the borders at future times. When the soil is at all worn out, a spadeful or two may be removed, and a little fresh compost, for the roots put in when planting them. Herbaceous plants will require the dead, flower stalks removed, carefully retaining such as are producing flowers, or even where they are green, as they will help to keep off the naked appearance borders of these plants present during the winter. Every means should now be put in hand to complete the propagation of plants for the ensuing year's flower garden; on no account neglect this, for very late struck cuttings are liable to damp off in the winter. Where large quantities of these things are required, and frame or pot room is scarce, the more common things may remain in their striking pans; these, when struck, should be slightly topped, and set in a sheltered place out of doors, for a short time. This will harden the plants sufficiently to bear damp and cold much better than plants which have not been exposed. The bedding out geraniums (especially the fancy kinds) should be potted of immediately they are struck, and be kept in a close frame till they become established, when more hardy treatment may be given them; the present has been an unfavourable season for them out of doors. Cuttings of scarlet geraniums and calceolarias may now be put in in quantities, the latter seldom strikes well earlier. Sulphurea splendens has proved an acquisition. As leaves are now beginning to fall, constant sweeping must be had recourse to.-Gardeners' Chronicle. |