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Coxbpic<toos among the Parisian novelties of the season, and to all appearances destined to produce a change amounting to revolution in ladies' oostume, is the Garibaldi shirt, which can be had in printed flannel, merino, muslin de laine, printed cambric . foulard, or pique. In shape and pattern it is made in the same way as a gentleman's shirt, with plaits in front, extending just below the waist, full sleeve, small collar, and cuffs to turn down, corresponding with the collar, all being of one material: the ends are left so as to go underneath the dress skirt, and are long 'nough to allow of the shirt hanging over in bag fashion all round, producing an easy and graceful effect. It is the prettiest and most elegant garment that a lady can put on for morning, breakfast, or demi-toilette, and is already in great demand in fashionable circles.
Ws gave 'n our last number several illustrations for Christmas ornaments. Here is another, and it is still in time.
"nbvbr, Mrs. Pierson, never!" exclaimed old Squire Darwin, in a voice of thunder; and he set down his foot upon the floor in a way to emphasize the voice. "I will never leave one dollar of my property to Edward Darwin, or any of his heirs. My mind has long been settled there."
"Wall, Squire Darwin, of course you ".' with your own property as you think best; still, it seems to me that whr n a mail is standin' only a few days this sid.* oi the grav«, he'd er lay down' . .lies and hearUbTrtnin's g«U farther, at thjx.'M. why be a sorrde§ to hjm*^"«y're carried beithont fear or flinching, brave, black-eyed woman, and she indomitable old man steadily e spoke. Darwin winced a little. These were facts which there was no getting aside, and they confronted him now with terrible earnestness. He looked at the calm, kindly face of bis faraener's wife, the only human being who would so fearlessly have told him the truth. For once the proud spirit of tot old man readied; and when the answer came at last, there was a change in the tones which, told that the little woman's words had struck home.
"I came to tUs conclusion years ago, Mrs.
i a fan isn't going to alter his if he's mile it up in perfect health and th, because he's where you say I am— the grave. *j
[ don't know1''*tut that are, Squire Darwin; It 'a my optnkralist my grandmother told the truth when ghepaid to me, a few hours afore
her death: 'Jane, you may depend on't the Lord opens our eyes when we get near the close of our journey as H" never does before, and we see all our living in a different way, and can tell whi rtt. !' .va bad time, we'd alter things, and I ) Jest contrary to what we have done, for 'loss last sight is the best and truest.'"
Squire Darwin did not Rjxwk; he leaned his head back among the cushions, and looked at the roses, which had just begun to open their treat vases of pearl and ruby by the window, for it was in the early June; and the air was full of tho sweet spices of their breath, and the scent of those blossoming roses brought over the old man's soul a wind from the land of his youth, a soft, perfuming wind, stealing up and down the dark, silent pathways of his heart. Mrs. Pierson looked in his face, and she saw the little change which had come over it; and, plain, hard-working, uncultivated woman though she was, she had the quick, sympathetic instincts which a good heart and native acuteness bestow.
"Squire Darwin, your brother Edward was several years younger than you, wasn't he?"
It was years since any one had dared mention the name of Edward Darwin in his brother's presence. The old man started, and a shadow that was like a frown came and went on his face, but in a moment he answered: "He was five years younger than I."
"And there was no more of you; he was all the brother you had?"
"He was all," answere Squire Darwin.
After this there was it little pause.
"Old Mrs. Johnson passed the day at our house last week," resumed the clear, steadily