Morning journal and courier., 1891-08-22
the same again. "The sorrow of months fell upon him with the weight of years of stern, bitter years; his heart worn with barrenness and pain.

sAO oohaAS ot5oAA. uc SOEfoW ol hxohthn fell upon him with the weight of years of stern, bitter years; his heart worn with barrenness and pain.
 PADS AND FASHIONS IN NEEDLEwoRK. A late fad of those who have little to dc and plenty of time to do it in is to em, broider an autograph table spread. Upon the square of linen, white or cream tinted as preferred, the friends of the worker are invited to write their autographs with 6 blue pencil; these tracings are then neatly worked over, usually in outline stitch. The autographs are to be placed irregular ly and at all sorts of angles with regard to each other, until the surface is well GOV | cred, but not crowded. A pretty effect | is produced by working them all with single color, but for gayer and somewhat ''crazy" effect all sorts of colors and shades are used. Each writer might | designate his or her favorite color in which the autograph should be embroider- ed, thus adding somewhat to its interest. Such table cover might become very valuable after few years, from the dis tinghished names traced upon its folds, and wealth of memories and associations would cling to it always. Prepare to be besieged by fair embroiderers'. each armed with well pointed blue pencil, beamine smile and a hardly to-be-refused request, will younot be so kind as to favor me with your autographs
 Another popular employment of the idly industrious girl is the making and em- broidering of a rocket cover, now consider ed an eminently proper and welcome gift for Angelina to bestow upon Edwin Elm broidered monograms, or fanciful letters, are appropriate ornaments, with or with out the addition of tennis balls and crossed rackets. One made of fine white cloth has bronze cord covering the seams Three bands of bronze velvet cross the wide part diagonally, and on one of these bands are sprays of forget-me-nots worked solidly in the natural tints. Another of dark blue billiard cloth has the owners monogram embroidered in gold, with crossed rackets above and below it. Still another of dark green felt was decorated with racket and balls cut of light colored leather and stitched down with silk of the same tint. These are slightly raised by placing strands of embroidery cotton un- derneath the leather after it has been stitched on one side.
 Leather promisest enter largely into the fancy work of the next season, the leather scraps used being the waste from satchel Things. It is thin and flexible and comes in several of the autumnal tints of leaves. A beautiful design for a sofa pill low is that of maple leaves, or oak leaves with the acorns, cut from leather in vari- ous shades of brown, tan, and mahogany, and applied upon gray linen. Natural leaves of different shapes and sizes are chosen and patterns of these are cut from stiff paper. A large cluster of leaves forms the central design and around these other leaves are disposed in a garland. The edges of the leaves are caught down with skeleton buttonhole stitches of embroid- cry silk, in shades matching the leather, and the veining is done with another shade according to the natural markings of the leaf. Cut only the nut of the acorn from the leather, forming the cup with French knots in silk of the proper tint.
 AS TOLD BY THE CHILDREN.
 Some of the descriptions of natural ob- jects given by the little children of the fresh air fund on their return from the wide, unknown and wonderful country, are very amusing, some pathetic, some imaginative, and all are suggestive. Here are some of their descriptions, as set down by Helen Watterson: Grasshoppers, ac- cording to one urchin, are "things that
 
 sound like banjos;" and he describes trees as "poles with things on 'em like dem little fans dey sells down in de streets j 'T thought maybe it always rained sharp glass in the country" said little girl, when asked why she had shown no fear in a severe and disastrous hail storm.
 "Wot de country is like is dis," said g small Irish lad, spreading his arms wide, "dere's de whole worl, an it's green, and dey ain't no houses. an you can hear a mile wen you holler, cause it's so still. An all de streets is dirt and soft, Ian de birds sings, and dere's cherries on de trees"
 "Why don't you sleeps" asked one host ess of little guest who stole down the stairs in the early morning, child who loved the grass and trees with an intense delight that was pathetic to witness. "The leaves talked and I couldn't, ' has has listened with an ear attuned to natures harmonies to that sweet mur- muring, whispering and signing, can won der that the child was lured from her bed to go out among the talking leaves to listen and catch perhaps some fragment of the stories they told? Some "beauty born of murmuring sound should pass into her face" even for this brief communion with nature, and amid the discordant din of the city she will remember that musical rus ting with delight and with longing. It is hard sometimes for the wisest of us to de, scribe an object with accuracy and it is not strange that child of the slums strug gled thus to delineate covered we'll. 'They gets water in the country" she explained Tout of little shanties, painted red, with pails on their insides, and the water runs out of a little porch in front of theil shanty when you turn stick around," z statement that seems nearer the truth the more one considers it.
 These are but few of the sayings oi l these city waifs, but they are full of mean ing They suggest penury, repression, ig | norance and powers of observation sharp | ened by the life and struggle of the streets These country days, perhaps, will be the last days of brightness in many dark little lives, and the memory of them will be al to which the fainting soul can turn for { | gleam of that joy which comes to others unsought and unappreciated. HILARY.