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glory was not arrayed like one of these." And very lovely, in her rich array, was the human Lily that trailed her robes of sapphire-lined silk and velvet over the Axminster carpet to gaze down at the gorgeous flowers, and inhale their rich fragrance. Her face, figure, dress were picturesquely perfect as she stood there, the sheen of the silk and softness of the velvet brought out vividly in the warm radiance as they fell in graceful folds from her slender rounded waist, while bands of duchesse lace were gathered at the neck and wrists, and a knot of violets seemed to nestle lovingly in the lace at her throat.
"A diamond star on her bosom lay,
But there was something of sad wistfulness in their dark-blue depths as she looked up from the flowers within to the sky without, quite absorbed in thought, until startled by the question:
"What are you looking at, Lily?"
A lady of middle age had entered the room and dropped languidly on a lounge. Her face was pale and wan, but still bore marks of former beauty, though traced with the lines of habitual suffering and chronic ill health.
Starting from her reverie with a sigh, and throwing herself carelessly into a luxurious chair, she answered:
"Doing nothing, mamma; just wishing I could see more blue sky, and no streets and stone walls."
The mother turned a perplexed look upon her.
"You've been incurably countrified ever since that summer you spent with your aunt for your health, instead of going to Newport with me."
"To drive, and dance, and dress, and dress, and dance, and drive, in intervals of bathing. The sea was the only thing that never tired me."
"I don't know what to make of you, child," the mother responded, irritably. "All the other girls of your set think its splendid."
"So did I when we went out yachting.
"'A life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep,'"
she sung, softly.
"That's all very well in the song, but when one gets wretchedly seasick its disgusting; besides, no respectable dress could stand salt air, and we all came back as limp and draggled-looking as a lot of wet hens."
Lily responded to this solemn denunciation of the delights of yachting with a ringing laugh.
"Oh, mamma, how awfully funny you are; that climax of looking like wet hens has extinguished me, though you do seem seriously in earnest."
"Of course I am, child. We always were frights after a sailing party; your curls were all tangled, and your blue veil shockingly like a string."
"Yes, I know they ignominiously failed; but who cared when we had such glorious times."
"I never saw the glories except from the shore; the drives were much more pleasant."
"And I always hated those dress parades one had to go through at regular hours like a drill. Society is a terrible tyrant I think, mamma."
"Not at all, when one properly appreciates it, and don't fly in its face with some innovations of their own people won't permit—some of those strong-minded creatures incessantly prating about 'Woman's Mission.'"
"If we have a mission, I'd like to know what mine is going to be," said Lily.
"To be the belle of New York, make a splendid marriage, be a queen of society in a magnificent establishment, and enjoy yourself."
"Does that always follow? You don't seem to count on hearts! Do we fall in love with establishments?"
"All sensible girls do. The rest is nothing but rose-water, romance and nonsense."
"Aunt Marian don't think so; and she didn't marry for gold and grandeur.
"Don't take her authority on marriage, when she made such a goose of herself going off with a country farmer to be buried in the woods," Mrs. Maclean answered tartly. "She never had any sense except about chickens and cheese-making. She might have settled splendidly, instead of sacrificing herself to a love matchi ridiculous, romantic nonsense."
"Go to Glenwood farm and see Uncle Rolf and her, and you won't think she's a sacrifice; I never saw such happy people. He's always home in the evening, and they go to town together in the wagon, and Uncle Rolf doesn't belong to a club, though they both go to the grange meetings Saturdays."
"So they stuffed your head with granges, too; I wonder you didn't dig potatoes and onions, milk the cows and feed the horses; you made a regular rustic of yourself. I'll never let you be so demoralized again. Its shocking!"
The sharp words and shrill tones seemed to distress her daughter, who came to her side, and sitting down on a low footstool at her feet plead pitifully, taking the thin hand in hers.
"Oh, mother, Aunt Marian loves you dearly; and she was so good to me when I was sick and weak, and they made me so well and strong with their kind care. Don't talk that way."
The worldly, cold-hearted woman warmed to her child's voice and tender touch, and stroking the bright head that rested on her knee, said, apologetically:
"I've got the neuralgia dreadfully to-day, dear, and it always makes me cross and nervous. But havn't you an engagement to drive this evening with Mr. Howard?"
"Not till to-morrow; that overpowering Englishman, he's an awful bore! If you could only hear him drawl out under his straw-colored mustache, 'Oh, Missh Maclean, you're so owiginal,'" the mocking ridicule of her tone and manner provoking a smile of amusement from her mother.
"Remember, Lily," she said, "Mr. Howard is enormously rich, and the younger son of a nobleman, with a prospective title."
"Why, mamma, no one is more impressed with the Honorable Howard's importance than—himself. He incessantly reminds one of the famous fact."
"Well, child, remember I wish you to treat him with great consideration."
The girl's eyes turned with a look of wonder and half anxious curiosity upon her mother, but whatever reply she might have made was checked by the entrance of a servant with a card upon a small silver tray.
"The gentleman is in the front parlor," he explained, as she took the card, and glancing at the name her cheeks flushed into deeper carnation.
"Ask him in here," said Mrs. Maclean. "I'll leave you to entertain him, Lily."
"Why not stay, mother?"
"Because I'm not equal to company to-day; and of course strangers require one's keeping up."
And she moved languidly from the room.
THE DISGUISED PRINCESS.
By Guy Ainslee.
In the great thoroughfare of London, a beautiful maiden's
An Eton student, roving amidst the jostling throng,
With rapture he gazed on the clusters—camellias, jessamine
Two initials, faintly traced, at length rewarded his eye;
"Ah, you need not to look far!" his startled colleague said,
Quickly the breathless pair were out upon the street,
ground Deeply blushed the highborn girl—in a few words condescended To tell them that if royal bet thus luckily had ended. Unperceived from her finger had slipped the jewel rare, While she was busied in sorting the flowers wi h studied care. So they were bound this secret never to mortal relate, For her own fair hand gave them a purse ere the carriage passed the gate.
GLASS IN ALL AGES.
By Clinton Montague.
Specimen Of Ancient Glass Mosaic.
the light of day into our dwellings, and at the same time it serves as a screen from the wind and rain and cold. As a mirror it is made to throw back the rays that fall upon it, and perfectly reflect the image of any object. Nothing1 is so especially suited for vessels for holding and keeping liquids as this cleanly substance, the purity of its material permitting the presence of foreign substances to be instantly detected. It is capable of resisting the action of all the powerful chemical reagents, and thus its service is beyond value to the chemist. Its use applied to the eye as spectacles is nearly equal to the reparation of sight. To its aid astronomy and science are indebted for their greatest advancement. It has brought within the ken of man solar systems so remote that the unassisted vision could never have detected them, and new worlds of living creatures, too minute for their forms to imprint a sensible image upon the delicate mechanism of the eye, have been opened to the sight by its aid. By it our conceptions of the universe have been extended and magnified, thus exalting the power and glory of Him who created it. Vol. XIV...-- 3
When we speak of glass, we mean more particularly that chemical compound of which silica and alkali are the principal and essential constituents. In chemistry any product of fusion having the peculiar lustre known as vitreous, hard and brittle, is called glass, whether transparent or not. But in common use the term expresses the transparent product derived from the fusion of silica with an alkali, to which lime or a metallic oxide is added. No mere words will give a definite idea of its various properties. It is practically indestructible, yet it is so brittle, except in its old or new toughened variety, that among poets it is almost another name for fragility. It is transparent, yet will contain the strongest acids and solutions. In various thicknesses it plays the most wonderful tricks with our eyesight. Even an artist cannot represent it as he can trees and beasts and flowers. In short, it seems to be endowed with as many contradictory attributes as Miss Fanshaw discovered in the letter H.
But after all, the most wonderful thing about
bonate of soda, who, landing on the coast below
heat than could be obtained from an open fire would be required to effect the stated result; and
facture of bottles, vases and other utensils, beads and fancy k. Wjne was ge ^ <K
the table in glass bottles, or handed to guests in cups of this material; and a body was soLtime buned in a glass coffin. Occasionally a gra„ite sarcophagus was covered with a coating ofrfcrified matter usually of a deep-green color, which d played by its transparency, the sculptures or h.eroglyph.c legends engraved upon the stoneprocess that was well understood by that intell c tual people.
Such in fact was their skill in making glass anfJ
n the mode of staining it of virion"TM., tha
hey not only successfully counterfeited the emer
aid, the amethyst, and other precious stones, but
TofT Ted at a degree of exceIIen«j" the
art of introducing numerous colors into the same vase a process which modern workmen, in spite o the many improvements in many branches of
Th T" a,C,Ure' haVC "eVer Vet been able to do They had also the secret of introducing gold beween two surfaces of glass, and in some of the r bottles, a gold band alternates within a set of b u green, and other colors. Another curious proces known to the early Egyptians was the one whereby he pattern on the surface was made to pass in right hues directly through the substance, so that
besides, glass must already have had a h torv of "r u> thrC
been the seat of its earliest manufacture. From pictures found in tombs on the banks of the Nile it is supposed that the art of glass-making was practiced at the time of the fourth dynasty a period so remote that Egyptologists cannot give it a date in years. On other monuments quite as old, are hieroglyphics representing glass-blowers at work much after the fashion of the present day The oldest specimen of pure glass, bearing anything like a date, is a little moulded lion's head bearing the name of an Egyptian king of the eleventh dynasty, in the Slade collection at the British Museum. Its age may moderately be placed at two thousand years B.C. The skillful workmanship clearly shows that the art was nothing new. Of later date there are numerous examples, such as a head found at Thebes which has the name of Queen Amunmhet, of the eighteenth dynasty. Of the same period are vases and goblets and many fragments.
The principal use to which glass was applied by the Egyptians seems to have been for the manu
Specimen Of Ancient Glass Mosaic
through it, each one would have the same device on its upper and under surface. It was, in fact a mosaic in glass, made by fusing together as many delicate rods of an opaque glass of the color required for the picture.
Glass bugles and beads were in common use by the Egyptians for necklaces, and also for a sort of network with which they covered the wrappers and cartonage of mummies. These were often colored to counterfeit the rich hues and brilliancy of precious stones. A necklace of false stones could be purchased at an Egyptian jeweler's to please the wearer or deceive a stranger by the appearance of reality. The green emerald, the purple amethyst, rubies and turquoise were successfully imitated, and mock pearls have been found so well counterfeited that it was difficult to detect the imposition with a strong lens.
The immense emeralds mentioned by ancient authors were without doubt glass imitations of those precious stones. Such must have been the emerald presented by an Egyptian Pharaoh to the King of Babylon, which was four cubits, or six feet long, and three cubits broad; the colossal statue of Serapis, in the Egyptian labyrinth, nine cubits, or thirteen feet and a half high; and the obelisk in the temple of Jupiter, which was forty cubits or sixty feet in height, and four cubits broad, composed of four huge emeralds.
It has been supposed that the method of cutting glass was unknown to the ancients, and the period of its invention was limited to the commencement of the seventeenth century of our era, when Gaspar Lehmann, at Prague, first succeeded in it, and obtained a patent from the Emperor Rudolph II.; but this statement is made absurd from the
fact that specimens of ancient glass cut and engraved have been found in Egypt. The art was practiced there at a remote period, as is shown by the discovery of vases and beads with hieroglyphics and various devices engraved upon them, some of them bearing the date of the first Osirtasen 2200 years B.c. They were also acquainted with ground glass, and frequently, as must have been the case with those specimens bearing figures and ornaments in reliefs, cast in moulds.
It cannot be doubted that the story preserved by Pliny, which assigns the credit of the invention to the Phoenicians, is so far true that those adventurous merchants carried specimens to other countries from Egypt. Glass was certainly in great demand by the ancient nations, and the Tyrians being the chief purveyors of those early times, may well have carried that article of luxury to the various countries upon the Mediterranean. The manufacture as well as the patterns of many of the specimens found in Greece, Etruria and Rome show that they were of Egyptian work; and though imitated in Italy and Greece, the original art was without doubt borrowed from the workmen of the Nile.
Egypt, in fact, continued to be the great seat of glass manufacture for many centuries, although