them. A well-grown specimen of it could not fail to prove attractive. Its cultural requirements are extremely simple, and the seeds are easily obtained. Liberal treatment, and a warm, moist house would no doubt produce perfect cotton-plants in about six months from the time of sowing.

that of sheep, and the Indians make clothing from these trees."

THE HUMAN FRAME.

or April, ger

minate in a

week or ten days; and, in about a fortnight after germinating, the seedlings are thinned out. In from three to four months from sowing, the plants are in bloom, and, as the flowers fall, the capsules rapidly swell, and continue to form and develop until frost nips them. The

cotton-pods are

picked as they ripen, otherwise they would hang on

the plants a

long time.
There is no
reason why
handsome pot-
specimens of

the cotton-
plant should
not be grown
by following
the main lines
adopted for its
cultivation
a gigantic
scale.

on

very freely, their fugacious character would not rob the plants of their beauty, and as each flower is followed by a ball of white fleece, which will remain on the plant as long as it is allowed to do so, it will be seen how handsome a well-managed cotton-plant must be.

The use of cotton for clothing and other purposes is almost prehistoric. Herodotus found it in India two thousand years ago. He says, "Certain wild trees bear wool instead of fruit, that in beauty and quality exceeds

feet. Whether the form be slender or plump, the law holds good; any deviation from it is a departure from the highest beauty of proportion. The Greeks made all their statues according to this rule. The face, from the highest point

of the forehead where the hair begins to the chin, is onetenth of the whole stature. The hand, from

the wrist to the middle finger, is the same. From the tip of the chest to the highest point

of the forehead

is a seventh. If the face, from the roots of the hair to the chin, be divided into three equal parts, the first division determines the place where the eyebrows meet, and the second the place of the nostrils. Height from the top of the head is regard. ed as equal to the distance

from the extremity of the fingers when the two arms are fully extended.

STRONG and sharp as our wit may be, it is not so strong as the memory of fools, nor so keen as their resentment; he that has not strength of mind to forgive is by no means so weak as to forget; and it is much more easy to do a cruel thing than to say a severe one.

MYRA GILMORE was looking in at a metropolitan shopwindow that was exceptional in the beauty of its arrangement. The dazzling show of colors, well combined-of goods so brought into notice that one saw at a glance the resources of the establishment-gave evidence that mind as well as taste controlled its exterior.

Mrs. Gilmore was looking for dolls, and the most lovely among the many perfect things could scarcely rival her face-a face at once expressive of goodness, and exquisite in all its features.

"I think there is a doll that would suit Imogene," she murmured. "She wanted a baby that would sleep, and that had hair almost white. I believe I'll buy it without looking at the others. It is exquisite; and Louis would like it, too,"

She still lingered, however, unconsciously challenging the admiration of the shifting crowd no less by the perfect taste of her attire than by her large, wonderfully expressive eyes, and making room for a young girl, apparently twelve or thirteen, who, instead of looking at the shop-window, looked at her.

Presently the persistent gaze of the child attracted Myra Gilmore's attention; she turned to her, and saw nothing but hate in the dark eyes fastened upon hers.

"I should like to kill you!" said the child, in a voice of concentrated passion; "and perhaps I will, some time."

"Why, what in the world do you mean ?" asked the astonished woman, drawing back a little. "What harm have I ever done to you, my child ?"

Taken her mother's place! What can that mean? But, oh, what am I to think? The girl could not certainly insult me in that way without some cause apparent to her. Perhaps she mistakes me for another person. At any rate, I will think so. I will buy the doll and go home. I must see Louis."

She entered the shop. Half a dozen clerks who had been watching from the inside, unseen by her, sprang forward. Everybody loves to wait upon wealth and beauty, and Mrs. Gilmore was not unknown to fame. Her husband's pictures brought immense sums of money, and all the world went to the Academy whenever one was hung there.

No, she would not have it sent; the package was small, and her residence only a little way up-town; so she took the parcel, wrapped her fur cloak about her, and tripped along, lost in thought.

"It is evident that woman is not vain, though she is beautiful," said Joe Bernart, the last favorite of the Upper Ten. "Did you see she did not even notice us?"

"Oh, that's Louis Gilmore's wife!" said his companion, swinging his dainty cane. "Been married ten years, and the two are as spoony as ever. They say he found her somewhere abroad-a poor orphan, or a pretty waiter-girl, or something of the kind—and elevated her to his heart's throne, where she evidently knows how to keep her seat."

Myra walked rapidly home, striving to forget the little scene at the shop-window, but somehow it persisted in annoying her. The many friends she met scarcely

"Good heavens !" cried the woman, sotto voce. "What does the girl mean? I have seen that face before. I am quite certain of it, for I never could forget those eyes.

only when the doors of the mansion where she lived flew open, and she heard the musical, ringing tones of her only child, Imogene, that her brow cleared, and her beauty shone forth transcendently.

"It is mamma-I know it is mamma !" cried the child, running down the broad staircase, the dainty reins of knit wool, which had been the work of loving hands, held at their extreme end by a swarthy-faced young Frenchwoman, in an unmistakably foreign cap and with an unmistakable idiom. "Oh, my beautiful mamma! And you have got the doll with blue eyes and white hair! Look, Angelique; she brought it home herself: she knew I wanted it so much. Thanks, dearest mamma. Oh, I do thank you so much! Is it not lovely, Angy? And will you dress her for me? Make her a little peasant, you know, and let her have a Tyrolese cap and a black silk apron.

"I am glad you are pleased, my darling."

"Oh, indeed I am!" exclaimed the little maiden, her wonderful face aglow, "and I've been just as good as could be-haven't I, Angy? I said all my lessons, and only missed one word. And then Angelique was so kind as to play horse with me, and the reins are splendid! Come, Angelique, let's hurry and dress my pretty new doll."

'Has papa come home yet?" asked Myra, every cloud gone from her face, so that she looked more like the sister than the mother of the beautiful piece of flesh and blood so like her.

"Yes, I think he has. Angelique said she saw him go in the study, and I wanted to go there, too; but I had not got through my lessons, and remembered that I was to be so good, and I just wouldn't."

"That was right, dear. I think I'll go see papa." The woman went first to her room, a perfect boudoir in pink and gold, substituted for her fur cloak a graceful shawl, and, casting one glance at the bewitching countenance her mirrors gave back to her, she went downstairs and out across the yard into a gorgeous affair in stucco, built in medieval style, and that opened at once into a large saloon-its only room-splendidly lighted and furnished. This, as easels and pictures, and lights and shadows in hangings, and casts and antique armor at once proclaimed, was Louis Gilmore's atelier.

The artist had just donned his velvet coat and cap, and was brushing his mustache, evidently with not a thought as to what he was doing, when his wife entered.

"The best of news, my darling, from Europe," he said, brightly, as soon as he saw her. "Ned has written me. He sold my picture for ten thousand pounds, and sent an order for two more. What an enthusiast he is! Besides, Vernon wants a companion to the 'Moss Gatherers,' just as soon as I can get it up. Don't you congratulate me, my beautiful darling !—you who brought me all my luck? But, hey! what's the matter? Is that a tear, and in your eye? By Jove! I'll paint it. I never saw a tear in that place before; and, if you'll only stand still What is it, my love?" for she had hidden her face in his shoulder.

"A little thing, Louis, but so terrible-so real, I mean;" and she told him her story.

He looked puzzled.

"It must have been a mad creature," he said, excitedly.

"No, a girl so young could scarcely have been mad," she made answer. "And, besides, I have seen her before. Don't you remember about three years ago, when we were riding out with Imogene, who was then a baby, we stopped to buy something of some poor creature, and a little girl came up to the carriage and looked at us? You remarked that there was something singular in her eyes, and she really frightened me, though she said nothing. Well, this is the same girl-I am sure of it."

"Perhaps; but she must still be mad, to make such a threat as that. It must be attended to," said Louis. "And furthermore, my dear, you must ride. I cannot have you walking about the streets subject to annoyances. Besides, you are too pretty. I cannot bear to have my sweet, innocent wife exposed to the rude stare of the crowd."

"I do hate a carriage," said Myra, plaintively. "When I walk, I am happy. I tread on air, though I miss the dear old mountains I used to climb. Why, Louis, I should die if I could not walk much and often."

"Well, I'm not going to let you die, if I can help it. You must have some companion, Myra, since you hate riding. I can fancy most of our carriage ladies of New York, hearing you say you hate a carriage. What if I buy you a dog?"

66

"I hate dogs!"

He laughed heartily.

"Even those 'divine pugs,' as Miss Eldridge calls them. Well, then I must try to get out with you myself, for go alone you shall not. It seems to me you might often take Imogene and the nurse."

"Yes; but some- -we-always make a spectacle," murmured Myra, poutingly, her face looking more charming than ever with this new expression.

"And you hate spectacles, I suppose ?" laughed her husband. "I expect the plain English of that is that everybody stares at my charming wife and child, and the picturesque ugliness of the bonne. Very well, we must arrange it someway. Only don't let that thing trouble you. Evidently the girl is put up to it, and hopes to make some money by the job."

"Oh, but she is well dressed and rather pretty," said Myra, who the more she thought of the matter the more it troubled her. "I can't get her look of dreadful hate out of my mind. I do hope I never shall meet her again."

"She had better not meet me," said Louis, severely, "or she will find herself in the hands of the police. I won't have you frightened out of your wits by a beggar." "And that would be terrible, too. But, Louis-about my taking her mother's place! Do you wonder it startled me? Could I help thinking-that

The man looked at her with a somewhat sarcastic smile. He was not handsome, this painter of great pictures, but he looked all the grandeur, goodness, nobleness, genius there was in him.

His face was rare in its expression, startling from the depth of his piercing eyes, and the warrant they gave that he could read men, and women, too. There was little color, but that indescribable beauty, not of outline or tinting, but of soul, for want of a better phrase, and the sun shone on whomsoever he smiled.

That smile had won many a heart that he had never cared or tried to win.

"Well, darling, go on," he said.

"Oh, Louis, forgive me !" she cried, and came forward like a penitent.

"There is nothing to forgive, dear. You have been badly frightened, and I don't wonder you scarcely know what to think. But trust me; don't doubt me, whatever you do."

"Never, Louis; I never can-I never will !" she said. "Thanks, love."

And kissing her, he led her to the door, and, after she had gone, stood for some moments lost in thought.

"There is evidently something underlying all this," he said to himself. "I remember the girl-I met her myself not long ago; a girl with a strangely concentrated