MRS. S. was seated by the window, deeply engaged in the manufacture of a collar for George, and I, at her feet, was watching her fingers, and chatting with her about matters and things, when Mrs. Daffodil came in, and, with a face of grave importance, began to ask our advice on an interesting subject.

"Mrs. S.," she said, "if you can talk jest as well as not while you're sewing, I'd like to ax you a question or two."

"I am entirely at your service," was the ready reply. "Just go out awhile, Annie," she added, laughing, "Mrs. Daffodil and I want to talk secrets."

"Oh, no! don't go," said the old lady; "I'd like to have you here. You see, Mrs. S., there's a lot of folks up in Babbington that 'll spect me to bring 'em a present, being as I've been away so long, and I want to ax you about it. There's 'Squire Hobbins' 'dopted darter, she 's been Ninny's company ever since they was babies; and then there 's her beau, he's a kind of cousin of mine; and there's the two Potter gals, and their brother, and the little Dawsons, and the Joneses, they was great friends of Ninny's and Pete's; and there's my Daffodil's great niece's cousins, the Peters, and their children, and a whole lot of folks. Now, you know, there is so many I can't give a rale handsome thing to all, and if one has better than the others they'll be mad, and if I don't take something rale pretty from the city they 'll think I'm mean, and I don't know what on airth is the best way to turn."

"Do you want useful presents, or fancy articles?" inquired Mrs. S.

"Both. There's Jenny Hobbins, she 'd be hopping mad if I gave her anything useful. You see, the 'Squire 's right well off; and then there's the Potter gals, they 're kind of independent, sarcy-like, and they 'd turn up their nose at anything fancy. I declare to gracious, I feel like a dog under a pump, and I don't know which way to get out of the fix."

"Annie, can't you go out with Mrs. Daffodil, or"-this was added in a very sarcastic tone66 are you so very busy that you can't spare the time?"

I expressed my willingness to go whenever Mrs. Daffodil wished my services, and, after some consultation, we concluded, as the list was rather a long one, that there was no time to be lost, and it was best to start immediately. George was pressed into service as a beau, and we started.

Jenny Hobbins being the person about whom Mrs. Daffodil was most anxious, we went first to a store for the sale of fancy articles.

"You see," said Mrs. Daffodil, as we entered the store, "Jenny 's real stuck up since the 'Squire took her, and I don't want her a making smearing speeches about what I take her. How d'ye do?" she added, as Mr. C., the young man, one of the salesmen of the store, came up to our party. "How d'ye do? Your folks all well?"

George asked Mrs. Daffodil if a handsome porte-monnaie would not be likely to please Miss Hobbins.

"Lors, no! if it was the 'Squire, now, he drinks Port, but Jenny 'd be ready to eat me if I took her any sich thing."

George explained the nature of the article in question.

"Lors! Now is it? Who'd a dreamt of its being nothing but a new-fangled pocket-book? thought it was a kind of canter for Port wine. Now, see here," she said, opening an exquisite little jewel-case of gold and mother-of-pearl that stood on the counter, "wouldn't this be pretty filled with little tiny tony sugarplums?''

"That is a jewel-case, and I think rather more expensive than you want. It is worth twenty or thirty dollars."

"Do tell! that little bit of a thing!"

"How would a cabat do?" inquired Mr. C. "Gracious! I wouldn't think of taking sich a thing; there wouldn't be room for it among my things. I never heard of sich a present in my life. Besides, the 'Squire keeps a carriage, and she wouldn't ride in a cab if she had it. I do declare, you 're the queerest man. 'Spose I give her the cab, and John Smithers, that 's her beau, the horse for a wedding present!" and Mrs. Daffodil laughed heartily at this idea.

Mr. C. looked very much inclined to join in

the laugh, but restrained himself, while George selected a very pretty cabat and handed it to the old lady.

"Lors! ain't this a rale nice work-box bag, all full of things too, scissors, and bodkins, and all? Wouldn't this be nice for one of the Potter gals? It's a deal too handy for Jenny." "That is a cabat," said George; "it is a new article, and a new word."

"It is just the thing for Sue Potter," said Mrs. Daffodil. The cabat was put aside for her, and again Miss Hobbins' gift was discussed.

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Suppose you purchase a shell comb for the other Miss Potter," said I; "that is useful and ornamental too."

"Land! I shouldn't think it would be very pretty. Ann Potter 's got lots o' shells her father brought home. He's a sea-captin, and goes off gallivanting to the South Indies and West Sea Islands, and Chinese India, and Sandwiches, and Meditation Sea, and Hindoos, and Cuba Rico, and Chili Brazil, and all sorts of places, and brings home lots o' things, cur'est things, shells, and feather flowers, and feather birds, and if she wanted a shell comb, why she's nothing on airth to do but just make it."

"Perhaps some of these biscuit articles would please her," said George; "some of them are very pretty: here is a butter-boat. Biscuit and butter," he added, looking at me for applause.

"Biscuit and butter. Why she can have that any day; besides, biscuits would get awful stale before I got home; and as for their being made into different things, why she makes gingerbread horses and men, and Scotch cake houses, and batter-cakes in diamonds, and poundcake hearts and rounds, and she could make biscuit butter-boats easy if she wanted to. Wouldn't this be pretty for Jenny, Mr. George?" and she pointed to a china cigar-stand, very elaborately ornamented.

"Does she smoke?" inquired George. "Smoke?"

"Yes; smoke cigars. That is a cigar-stand. How would a pair of flower-jars do

"Too useful; she wouldn't like it. Besides, they keep their flour in a bucket. Land! I wish I could find just what I want. See here, Miss Annie, ain't this a pretty little dressingcase wouldn't it be nice for Ann Potter?"

I took the case. It contained two razors, a shaving-brush, a box of shaving-soap, a shaving-glass, and other arrangements for a gentleman's comfort. Unwilling to wound the

old lady's feelings, I showed her the contents, and proposed her buying it for Jenny's beau. "Yes, was the ready reply, "it's jest the very thing for John, he 's not a bit stuck up, and I know he 'll like it."

So two on our list were provided for. Still, Jenny had no present selected for her, and Mrs. Daffodil evidently had that most at heart.

"We have some beautiful statuettes for etagères," said Mr. C., seeing her perplexity.

"For what? A-a-she hain't got none, I know. S'posing I buy one of them little graven images."

"These are the statuettes I spoke of," said Mr. C.

"Lors, them 's little gals and boys and men and women making up to each other. Jest look, George, at that man giving the gal a bucket. Jest for all the world like you and-"

"Yes," said George, hastily; "look at this one, a little girl with a basket of flowers on her head. It has such a pretty rosewood stand, and a glass shade too, and Mr. C. will pack it for you, so as to prevent its being broken."

"That 'll do first rate. Now let's go somewhere else. How soon can you pack that, young man?"

"We will send it to you if you will leave your address, madam," said Mr. C.

It was some time before Mrs. Daffodil would consent to have her property trusted to other hands.

"Would you pay for 'em?" she asked of George in an audible whisper.

"Certainly!"

"Think he 'll be certain to send 'em if I do?" "Certainly !"

So they were paid for, and Mrs. D. left the store, followed by George and me.

"Now, George," she said, stopping in the street, "I think Joe Potter would like a book; he 's powerful fond o' reading. Ain't there no bookstore handy?"

"One within a few steps. This way;" and George marshalled the way, with Mrs. D. leaning on his arm.

"What kind of reading does he prefer?" said George, as we stood at the counter turning over the leaves of an annual. "Here are religious, light, humorous, grave, gay, theological, biographical-all kinds of books. Is he bent on serious subjects?"

"Lors, he ain't bent no way, he's as straight as a poker. Now let's see: he's very fond of readin' about great men and women, George, Napoleon, and Julia Cesar, and Father Matthew

Jackson, and Andrew Washington, and General Webster, and all them sort of folks."

"Biographical?"

"Lor', no! but lives like you know. I thought Biblegracal works was about the Bible. Now, George, you 're a young man, and you know 'bout the sort of books young chaps like. Won't you pick out one?"

While George was making a selection, Mrs. Daffodil and I were turning over the leaves of a catalogue. Suddenly she cried

"Well, I do declare to gracious! if that don't beat all."

"What is it?" I inquired.

"Why, fashion plates for niggers!"
"What?"

"Fashion plates for niggers. I'll read it to you: 'Just out! Lady's Magazine, with a steel plate and a colored fashion plate!' Steel plates must be real cold things to put vittals on; but to have a plate, a fashion one, purpose for niggers, that does beat all nater!"

The salesman beat a rapid retreat up the store, and I was taken with a severe spell of coughing. I explained that a plate meant an engraving.

"Oh! a picture to show the new fashions; but lors, I shouldn't think they 'd bother to have one purpose for niggers. I should think what's good enough for white folks would do for them."

George came towards us at that moment with a life of Webster, one of Washington, and one of Napoleon, for Mrs. Daffodil to select from. She turned over the leaves in a pitiable state of indecision.

"I'll tell you what," she exclaimed suddenly, "I'll take one for Joe and one for each of the little Dawsons; they 're both boys."

Leaving our address to have the books sent, we again passed into the street. George walked on a moment in deep thought, and then said: "I have it! We'll go to an auction room." And with our cordial approval he turned up a street, down another, passed a corner, and into the room.

"Going, going, going!" were the words uttered, in a loud voice, as we entered the

room.

"Oh! we aint going, we've jest come!" said the old lady, in a voice loud enough to attract many curious glances from the group collected around the auctioneer.

"Gone !"

"Who?" said Mrs. Daffodil, looking first at the door, and then at the windows. "Who's gone?'

"Listen to that man,' ," said George, "the one in the desk, he 's selling the goods."

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the auctioneer, "here 's lot 2247-fine gold studs, three studs of fine gold, worth two dollars apiece. Now, gentlemen, who bids for these studs ?" "Half a dollar," said George.

"Where's that lunatic?" said the auctioneer, looking around. "Half a dollar!" "And an eighth," said a voice. "Five-eighths-fine gold studs-come, gentlemen, make a bid."

"Seventy-five!" said another voice. "Seventy-five! Fine gold studs. Can't be bought at any private sale under two dollars apiece. Come, gentlemen."

The bids ran up to a dollar and a half.

"Come, gentlemen, these are worth more than that. A dollar and a half-and a halfand a half-going. Going, gentlemen, for a dollar and a half. Going, going, going-gone!"

Mrs. Daffodil had listened with her mouth open, her eyes distended to twice their natural size, and an expression of vacant astonish

ment.

"Well, I declare! I never did hear a man talk so fast in all my life. What 's he saying now?"

A pair of razors were up for sale. The auetioneer was eloquent in praise of their steel, finish, and beauty.

"Come, gentlemen, this is a frightful sacrifice at two dollars. Come, bid!”

At that instant he fixed his eyes on Mrs. Daffodil, who nodded, saying

"How d'ye do?"

"And an eighth," cried the auctioneer, taking it for a bid-"and an eighth, and an eighth. Going, going, gone! to Mrs.

"Mrs. Daffodil," she said, in reply to his inquiring glance.

George and I were convulsed with laughing. "What are you going to do with them?" George inquired.

"With what?"

"With your razors you 've just purchased." "I purchased them? No, I didn't! What on airth would I do with razors? I never said a word about them."

"But you nodded to the auctioneer."

"No, I didn't! I nodded to the man up there 'cause he looked at me; and then, didn't you hear him ax my name?"

"To ascertain who had bought the goods. It's no matter," he added, seeing the old lady's distress; "I was just going to bid when I saw you doing it for me. I'll take the ra

zors." And in a low tone he explained the whole mistake to Mrs. Daffodil.

It was amusing, after that, to mark the rigid erectness of the old lady's head, who held it as if she feared it would nod without her will or consent, and she involuntarily tied her bonnet-strings and scarf tighter, to keep her head in its proper position.

"Just see them breastpins; ain't they pretty?" said Mrs. Daffodil, looking with admiring eyes at a card with two cameos on it, then in the auctioneer's hand. "I should like to buy them, now, they 'd be so pretty, one for Sarah Peters and one for Ann Potter; but I 'spects they're powerful dear."

"Shall I bid for them?" said George. "How much would you like to give? Speak quickly, or they'll be gone."

"Yes, buy 'em." And she hastily named the price she would like to give for them. George bid against a tall grim-looking man, who finally went beyond Mrs. D.'s price, and gained the pins. Another lot of two were put up, and this time George was more successful.

"My! ain't there a lot o' pretty things here?" said Mrs. Daffodil, as we walked about the room. "I'd like to buy these two little china images for Kate Jones; she's fond o' them sort o' things."

"Shall I put them up?" said George. "Put them up where?"

"Give them to the auctioneer, and run the risk of their being knocked down to some one else."

"Knocked down! Lor! if there's any danger of their being knocked down, you'd better let 'em alone; it would smash 'em all to nothing to knock 'em down, and then you know they might make us pay for 'em."

Again George explained his terms. Mrs. Daffodil looked at him affectionately.

"You 're a dear good boy to be so kind to an old woman's mistakes," she said; "they're mighty queer sometimes."

"How many more presents must you buy?" George inquired.

"Let's see! I've got for Jenny, and John, and Sue Potter, and one of them pins for Ann; so there's the two gals and Joe, them's all the Potters; and the books is for the little Dawsons, and Sarah Peters; and now there's Jane and Jim Peters, and the two Joneses, Will and Kate. Here's a real pretty chiny dog would do for Will."

"A paper weight," said George; "it is a very pretty one, too. I will put it up."

"Lot 3322!" said the auctioneer-" a hand

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Come, we are getting on famously," he said; "now there are only Kate Jones and the little Peters! Is there no Mr. Peters, Mrs. Daffodil ?"

"Gracious! Yes, I clean forgot him! You see he's just one of them sort o' men that is allers under his wife's thumb, and nobody never thinks of him; they allers calls him Sarah Peters, good man, 'cause you see he jest ain't no 'count 'long side o' her. I mind the time once she went out to a party to Mrs. Joneses, and Mrs. Jones says she to her when she come in, 'Sarah, I am so sorry, I clear forgot to ask Mr. Peters.' 'Never mind,' says she; folks mostly forget him if I don't hint at it, when they asks me.' Now what shall we get for him, George? 'Sposing we buy him a set of them little gold shirt buttons, though like as not Sarah would take 'em for Jim. She 's powerful fond of Jim, and he's 'bout as plagued a boy as you'd see in a day's walk, always up to some badness or other."

"Suppose we buy a set for Jim, too,' " said George; "and so have two more off our list." The auctioneer's voice sounded in our ears again at that instant

"Three fine gold studs, gentlemen !" "That's the ticket," said George.

"No, it's the buttons he has, not tickets," said Mrs. Daffodil. "Do go buy 'em for me, George."

George secured two sets of studs.

"Now, look here at these boxes of little bottles. What on airth are they for, medicine ?"

"Perfume-Cologne, or Bay Rum," said I, using the two names I thought she would be most familiar with. "They are for the bureau, to put scents in to use for the handkerchief."

"I shouldn't think rum would be good to smell of. Let's buy these two, and that 'll

end my folks. They'll do first rate for Kate and Jane."

The boxes were put up, and George purchased them.

"Now, Mrs. Daffodil, come into the counting-room, and we'll pay for all these, and give our address for them to be sent to us.

Mrs. Daffodil listened attentively while the clerk named over the different articles and their prices.

"One set of studs, $2 75. One set of studs, $2.50.

"Why, they're jest exactly alike," said the old lady.

"Yes; but the bids run up higher on one than on the other."

"Land! Well, I never did see sich a queer way of doing shopping in all my life. You never know where you are. Jest think! Two prices for the same things. And then the-”

"Two toilet perfume stands-" "Them ain't mine," said Mrs. Daffodil. "I

never bought any sich thing. Oh! the little bottle boxes. Lor, I know now!"

Our address was given to the clerk, and, thoroughly fatigued with our morning's excursion, we went home.

"Well, Mrs. Daffodil, did these young people take good care of you?" said Mrs. S.; "and how many presents did you buy?"

"Got 'em all, Mrs. S. Got a statute for Jenny Dobson, and a little thing full of toling things for John, and two camel breastpins for Ann Potter and Sarah Peters, and six shirt buttons for Mr. Peters and Jim, and a life of George Bonapart, and one of James Washington, and one of Captain Webster for the Dawsons and Joe Potter, and a thing for Sue Potter, a work-box bag, a-a cable I think it is, and a little chiny dog, a paper folder for Will Jones, and some bottles for fuming for Kate Jones and Jane Peters, and-and-. Well, that's all!"

ONE of the first inquiries which ought to be made in selecting a dress is, whether it is suited to the complexion and character of the person who intends to wear it.

It is evident that a dress of the same character is not equally suitable to every individual, but that a certain relation is necessary between the character of the wearer and the color of the garment. "The same color which would be beautiful in the dress of a prince would be ridiculous in that of a peasant. We expect gay colors in the dress of youth, and sober and temperate colors in that of age. We feel a propriety in the cheerful colors of a marriage, and in the melancholy coloring of mourning. There is a propriety of relation also between the colors that distinguish the dress of certain situations and these situations themselves, which we never see violated without some degree of pain." To these judicious remarks it is unnecessary to add. The subject for our consideration, therefore, is confined to the selection of colors in reference to the complexion, and the mode of their adaptation, whether as acting by contrast or by relation.

There are in nature only three primary colors, yellow, red, and blue; and all the hues, tints, and shades, of which colors are susceptible, arise from the combination of these in various proportions.

We are thus led to a principle of the simplest application in selecting such colors as will best suit the complexion. Having determined to which of these primary colors the complexion bears the greatest affinity, or which predominates, we are at once enabled to pronounce which of them will harmonize with it, or which will offend by the ill-accommodated contrast.

It will, however, be necessary, before proceeding farther, to point out the various combinations into which these colors enter, and thus enable us more easily to trace their relations to each other.

From the combination of the primary colors arise what are called the secondary; orange, which is composed of yellow and red-purple, which is composed of red and blue—and green, composed of yellow and blue-in certain proportions, which it is unnecessary here to point out. These are called the accidental or contrasting colors to the primaries; the orange contrasting with the blue, the purple with the yellow, and the green with the red.

In the same manner, from the combination of these secondaries arise the tertiaries, which are also three in number; olive, from the mixture of purple and green-citron, from green and orange-and russet, from orange and purple. These tertiaries stand in the same rela