means of weights. Trace over the pattern with a hard, sharp pencil, and the outlines will be left distinctly traced on the cambric.

When about to work a design which contains repetitions of one part or division, draw as many as may be required from one pattern, which you will find a far more accurate mode of working than if you were to make the paper pattern a complete one. Thus, an exact quarter of a handkerchief, cushion, or any similar article, should be drawn, and then each section marked from it. A single scollop of a flounce will also be quite sufficient to mark from.

Sometimes patterns are marked on cambric with a very fine sable brush dipped in a solution of Prussian blue mixed with water and a very little sugar. The pattern must then be traced with the needle, using the fine soft cotton termed embroidery cotton. All the eyelet-holes must

be run round, and the sharp outlines of leaves, &c., carefully preserved. Stems, fibres, and holes are then simply sewed over, very neatly and closely; but the thick raised parts, which are more properly denominated satin-stitch, have the whole space filled in by being run backwards and forwards; and then the darning covered entirely by stitches taken from edge to edge, or otherwise; the threads lying close together, and always in the same direction, but never crossing each other. When leaves are well-worked, they present the same smooth, close surface as good satin, whence the name is derived. Scollops and edges are usually worked in button-hole stitch, either wide or narrow.

To fasten on and off, run the thread a little way along the back of the work.

AIGUILLETTE.

Turkey red, and white.

One corner of this beautiful handkerchief border only is given, as the scolloped edge is to be repeated, and the spray merely worked in the corners. It has the advantage of having but very little work in it, and presenting a very rich appearance. These handkerchiefs, embroidered in two colours, have recently made their appearance in Paris, and have been very fashionable for dejeuners and other morning fêtes in England, during the past season. All sorts of colours are used; but red and white not only are prettier than any others, but they have the advantage of washing better.

In the engraving the dark parts indicate red, and the light signify white. The whole border is worked in deep scollops, each of which is divided into three sections, the centre one being red. They are connected together throughout by single curved lines, also worked in red. The border is done in button-hole stich, graduated so that the work at the point of each vandyke is very deep. The outlines of the leaves are also button-hole stitched; but the other parts of the spray are in satin-stitch. The lines of

The initial I have selected is one likely to be generally useful. It is done to correspond with the handkerchief, and is worked entirely in satinl stitch. The very narrow lines of red in the lower part of the M are merely sowed over; the same is done in other parts where the mass or work is in white. This letter is very ornamenta if done merely in white cotton, or in silks, fo coloured embroidery. AIGUILLETTE.

Materials:-Evans's Point Lace Cottons.

7, French white cotton braid.

The engraving being given of the full size, the pattern is only to be traced from it on blue or green paper, then marked clearly with Indian ink, mounted on cloth and worked. The cravat itself should be a perfect square of the finest Jaconet muslin, folded crossway in half, and then two of the four corners cut off, leaving two on which the lace points are to be joined. The pieces cut off should be about the size of a lady's small neck handkerchief. Hem the cravat all round, taking care that the hem is not wider than the braid; then, when the points are worked, lay the muslin with the edge under the angular

line of braid, run them together, and work a line of Brussels edge on the braid and muslin, which will finish the cravat very neatly.

The peculiarity of this cravat is, that dotted Venetian bars are used throughout to connect the different parts, a Mechlin stitch being sometimes worked where the space is very large. The DOTTED VENETIAN and MECHLIN LACE must be worked in Evans's Mecklenburgh 120. The SORRENTO EDGE in Evans's Mecklenburgh 100. The ENGLISH and OPEN ENGLISH LACE in Evans's Boar's Head 70.

BRUSSELS EDGE and LACE.-Evans's Boar's Head, 90.

ROSETTES.-Evans's Boar's Head, 100. AIGUILLETTE.

MAIDS OF

SCENE I.

MR. SEEDY at the breakfast-table, eats an egg, walks impatiently up and down the room, arranges his brutus before the glass, pulls up his shirt-wrists, and goes through other pantomimical forms for beguiling the time, until Enter Mrs. SEEDY and Mr. SEEDY's aunt, Miss RUSHLight.

Seedy. Good morning, ladies. Fine domestic management, Mrs. S.-eggs boiled hard enough for blackbirds again!

Mrs. S. Well, Seedy, I can't help it; Susan has been told times and times.

Seedy [in a voice of thunder]. Dye my whiskers! hold your tongue, and ring the bell! Enter SUSAN, with a boot on one hand, a brush in the other, and a quantity of black lead on her face.

All at once. Susan!

Seedy. Will you women be quiet? Now, Susan, may I beg to be informed why I am to eat my eggs as hard as bullets?

Susan. Well, raly, sir, if they was bullets, they could not occasion me much more ill-convenience they're always under-biled or overbiled. I wish you'd take 'em in a state of natur' -suck 'em out of the shells!

All at once. Susan!

Mrs. Seedy. An impudent thing!

Miss Rushlight. Impertinent creature! Seedy [savagely]. Will you women hold your tongues? I declare Niagara's nothing to you two, when once-but never mind. Now, Susan, why do you persist in boiling these eggs so hard?

Susan. Please, sir, when I'm cleaning the door-steps, I can't take saucepans off the kitchen fire.

Seedy. Then why don't you stay down and watch the eggs?

Susan. 'Cos missis says it wastes time; besides, she told me always to be cleaning the doorstep while yon was at breakfast, 'cos then she knows what I'm doing; and remarks have been made about the baker; and so, as things is coming to a point, I give all three of you warning!

All. Susan!

Mrs. S. You nasty, ungrateful thing! when I have acted like a mother to you! Oh, Susan! Miss R. And only yesterday I gave you a dress of my own!

Seedy. Will you women-but it's useless to talk. Well, Susan, leave if you like you do not altogether suit us.

Susan. And you're very far from altogether suiting me. I'll go directly-minute. Would you wish to search my boxes, mum? Though it's almost unnecessary to ask, for there's not much to steal in this dismal hole. Miss Rush

ALL-WORK.

light, you shall have your dress again; would drop to pieces if I brought it down! I shan't I'm afeard it might you come up and fetch it? be long the wages is one-pun'-five, if you please. [Exit SUSAN,

After an angry parting with Susan, Mrs. Seedy calls in an eccentric female in a black silk bonnet, of remarkable architecture, which piece of furniture she has never been seen without in

the memory of the oldest inhabitant. Under the auspices of this respectable individual the breakfast-table is cleared, and "the cat" begins a marauding campaign of tremendous activity in the realms below-cats always do when such queer people invade the kitchen.

Mrs. Seedy [spitefully]. I wonder how Susan feels to-night! She'll soon come to her senses. Seedy. Still, my dear, the place is perhaps rather hard for one girl, and I think we must have a housemaid. With ten lodgers, you

know-and lodgers always make so many knives and boots-suppose we have a housemaid?

Mrs. Seedy [pathetically to Miss R.] Oh I never! Now, dear aunt, havn't I begged and prayed on my very knees for a second pair of hands? and he never would listen. [To SEEDY], No, Charles, not two female servants: Susan used to quarrel enough by herself; two would be the death of me! Let me have a little page.

Seedy. A little vagabond!-a little wretch! to be fed and pampered just to jump over the posts and play at chuckfarthing in the streets. No, no. Tell the tradesmen you want a maid of all-work, and we'll look out for some country orphan (wages, some old clothes) for a housemaid."

Mrs. Seedy. Never, again, Seedy, will I tell the tradespeople I want a servant. The grocer actually made a face at his shopman when I mentioned it to him this morning; and the butcher behaved most shamefully, and said he'd decline looking out-those who had lived with me gave such a bad account of the place.

Miss R. And of your temper, dear. Mrs. Seedy [colouring]. Yes, and of my temper. Let us advertise, Seedy.

Seedy. Oh, advertising costs money. Mrs. Seedy. Never mind, we will make her pay for all she breaks, and save it that way. Here's a pen and ink-now Mr. Seedy.

Seedy. Well, how shall I begin [writes]} Wanted, in a respectable family, where one or two boarders are received, as maid of all-work. Mrs, Seedy [dictates]. "Must be clean and

neat in her person and work. As a housemaid is kept, no beer will be allowed.

Seedy [interrupting]. What, on earth, has that to do with the girl's beer?

Mrs. Seedy. Why you know its dearer to keep two, so they can't expect so many luxuries: but go on. [Dictates.]" Must not be addicted to letter scribbling, and have no followers, male or female. Cousins in the police force a decided objection. A young woman without any acquaintances in London preferred. She must be an early riser, and always speak the truth. She must be a member of the Church of England; must understand bright grates, cleaning lamps and kid gloves, and must not object to make herself generally useful. To such a young person, £12 a-year (BESIDES SUGAR!) will be given. Apply to C. D.," &c.

Miss R. You have not said "washing done at home," love.

Mrs Seedy. Oh no; she'll find that out soon enough.

SCENE III.

MRS. SEEDY and her aunt having had innumerable visits in answer to their advertisement, have not yet found a candidate to suit the place, whom the place will suit. One stands out for a monthly visit from her mother; another for permission to be visited by a young

"which keeps company with her," and sɔ on through a long list. At last a raw-boned individual, of whose disposition you can scarcely judge from her physiognomy, the knave and the fool being so nicely balanced therein, makes her appearance; and after the orthodox bend of the knees--known to the lower classes as a 66 curtchey" which resembles the forced movement of a Dutch doll, very stiff at the joints-the conversation thus goes

Mrs. Seedy. Your name?

Candidate. Caroline Tibbs.

Miss R. We can never call you Caroline! The idea of calling a servant by such a grand name as that!

Candidate. If I am to be called out of my name, perhaps it would be considered in the wages?

Mrs. Seedy. Oh, don't expect any names we choose to call you will be considered in the wages for £12 a-year (and sugar!) you ought to be glad to be called names that are not your

own!

Miss R. Can you dress hair?

Candidate [dubiously]. I think I could bake a 'are, but as for roasting and jugging, I think

not,

Mrs. Seedy. Oh, aunt, of course, she can't do that. It's perfectly unreasonable of you!

Miss R. Very well, Mrs. Seedy: I see no harm in putting a question. I thought, if we went out, she might do our hairs, and save us the

Candidate [interrupting]. Oh, I can't do hair, mum! leastwise, only my own, which curls beautiful done round a tobacco-pipe!

Mrs. Seedy. I don't allow curls! Candidate. Not on holidays?

Mrs. Seedy. I give no holidays. Can you undertake all that is mentioned in my advertisement?

Candidate. Yes, mum. I an't no friends to speak of at all: I can't abear the pelisse: I don't like beer: I'm a member of the Church of England, and

Mrs. Seedy. Are you an early riser ?

Candidate. Particklar. If any convenience to the family, would never go to-bed at all. Early rising is my 'abit; I got it by sleeping in a scissors bedstead, which would double up with me in my first sleep, and then I never cared to have any more. Oh, I'm a early riser! Mrs, Seedy. You'll do: you're a jewel! now

Miss R.

do come directly; we'll both be mothers to you!

AN INCENTIVE.

BY CHARLES H. HITCHINGS.

"The night cometh, when no man can work.”

Youth's morning light shines clear and bright Within those eyes of thine;

Yet, lady fair, good time beware,

Not always thus 'twill shine :
Bind fast the chain ere beauty wane-
Ere yet, that light departed,
On yonder stone thou sit'st alone,
Bereft and broken-hearted;

For the night, the night cometh!

O kindly looks, Love's golden books
Of sweet and pleasant fancies!
Part, while ye may, your wealth away
In soft and tender glances :
Use gentle thrift, for Time flies swift,
And mocks us with his fleetness;
Nor spares the earth for manhood's worth,
Love's strength, or woman's sweetness.

For the night, the night cometh!

O, seldom heard, thou Christian word,
Uniting souls that sever!

Use while ye may your gentle sway,

Ere yet 'tis past for ever-
Ere yet the breach, too wide for speech
To close with tenderest feeling,
Of deadly pride the canker hide
That knows no human healing-

Ere the night, the night cometh!

O foes and friends, the brief time ends
Of hating and endearing;

O friends and foes, the shadows close
That bring the night's appearing.
O ye that would be great for good,

Use now each strong endeavour,
Ere yet your day be passed away
For ever and for ever-

For the night, the night cometh!