, 1877-11-02

eAien rsfsss and fsstncnsd with cohush..
a. ara ths garrets q Fumancwrs. but eisan.
lfghi nnd airy, thc faS1riss play-roon ~
ihe httis foiks, and frequent resort ~
shclr ciacrs shen The has s b b. swspt
wiih giAnce in search Or an expected
p,cAsurs bat 90 lookout kept far she
nrSt glimpse II gaf tvpsail A. ths Spt
cutnrs eFcspiuE srogBd Lighthouses Hesa,
haggtng The share Too closely tas nnar.
cus,omsd eyes b distinguish ths slowly.
giidlng mssis from tht s,AtianATy objects
90 TIE bsak above. There are heavy
chests hiled uith the discarded dnery n
inrmsf generations, the fuWesed hrocAde
u the great grandmoiheF Whn danced
with the British officers being the chief
treasure Of the hoard. The nov obsolete
spinning wheel occupies disiAn, corner,
and ranged along the walls are decrepit
chairs with wide carved backs, and claw.
footed tables too eumhrous for the taste
OF the present day. Nor Is there wanting
even here that suggestion Of the sea
which gives a quaint touch and flavor to
all the belongings of CAstine. There
are VOWS OF huge conch shells, for which
fashion no longer demands a place upon
the parlor mantelpiece, and boxes Of Gu.
riosities collected by childish hands !;
there are masses of coral rock brought,
home by the boys from the ballast wharf,
and delicate coral fans, the gift of some
sailor friend from tropical seas; while
the floor is ornamented with rows of star
fish and sea. .urchins which the children
of to-day have laid in the sun to dry.
In the chambers below, the curtainsd
beds and cushioned arm-chairs of old
times are set off by quaint engravngs or
richly toned paintings, reminders Of
Mediterranean voyages and of hurried
visits to art capitals along the coast.
The Bay of Naples,or the villa-crown
height of Genoa, smiles from the wall
upon the scarcely less beautiful pano-
rama of sea and shore outside the win
dows; and the sewing table is adorned
with basket Of finest workmanship, the
gift of the sailor son, who remembers in
Eastern bazaars his mothers patient
stitching and mending in the days of his
boisterous youth. Her daughters bureau
drawers in the opposite room are stored
with foreign treasures. All her garments
smell of myrrh, aloes and cassia. When
she goes to pay visits, she attires herself
in d shawl so wondrously embroidered
as to be above the caprices of fashion
and her ivory card-Case is miracle of
Chinese art. The grave father of the
family cuts his Boston Transcript with a
sandal-wood paper-knife, and writes his
business letters at a solid desk of cam
phor wood, whose massive brass frame
fairly lights up the corner Of the sitting.
room, where it has an abiding-place and
table of its own.
In the parlor the mantlepiece is gay
with the artistically grouped feathers Of
tropical birds; upon the shelves of the
whatnot are glass jars of the spices of
Ceylon, arranged in the various develop
ments of their fruitage; the drawers of
the bookcase are full of Chinese pic
lures, innocent of perspective and bril-
liant in coloring; the table is strewn
with ingenious puzzles; and never-tail-
ing source of amusement for stranger
guests is the japanese fan, which, opened
Alright, offers brave show of costumed
figures, and reversed, tumbles into rags
and empty sticks. Even the dining
room and kitchen partake of the foreign
element which the great and wide sea
brings to this remote shore. Every one
in the house recognizes the subtle fra
GRANGE when certain tiny saucepan is
brought into requisition, and the chill
dren rejoice to see upon the teatable the
pale blue jar ornamented with watery
landscape, which hints of preserved gin
ger within.
Nor is it alone the great square houses
that contain these cosmopolitan treasures
The neat white cottages by the shore are
made picturesque by their imported be-
longings. Queer beads and heathenish
necklaces dangle from the frames of the
looking-glasses exquisite shells adorn
the bureau in the best room; and the
tame gray parrot sits on the fence and
scolds the passers-by in foreign jargon,
but with an emphasis Enthusiastically sug-
gestive of his meaning.-EIisabeth e..
Euans, in Harper's Magazine.