professor called Miss McLeod by her Christian name--"dress is
considered as an exponent of character. When a person is thrown
among strangers, they are judged almost as much by that as by their
countenance. And when they adopt a style of dress, the mark of a
particular clique, they are considered as indorsing all the opinions
belonging to it. Now, the ideas of the Bloomerites are many of them so
flighty, and have so little reason or common sense in them, that I am
sure you are not acquainted with them, or you would not so openly rank
yourself with their party."
Poor Janet had heard her father talk for hours about the absurdity of
the usual mode of dress, and the advantages of the Bloomer costume;
but now, in her time of need, she could not recall a single one of his
arguments. Not that she was entirely overpowered by the professor's
reasons, but, partly from her own observation of his character, and
partly from general report, she had imbibed so high an opinion of Mr.
Mainwaring's judgment and understanding, that she felt unequal to
opposing him. There was a soundness in his opinions, with a firmness
and strength in his whole nature, to which she yielded an unconscious
deference.
This was by no means the only conversation Mr. Mainwaring and Janet
had on the subject of her unfortunate dress. Slowly and gradually the
young girl began to realize that she might have been wasting the whole
energies of her earnest nature in a Quixotic contest with what was in
itself harmless. At any rate, she became convinced that "_le jeu ne
vaut pas le chandelle_," and yet she was unwilling to take any decided
step without consulting her father. She was afraid that he would be
greatly disappointed in her, when he found her so weak that she shrank
from the notice and comments her attire attracted.
Seeing that Miss McLeod was disinclined to make the effort, Mr.
Mainwaring wrote himself to Mr. McLeod, who, although he was unable
to appreciate the "delicate distresses" which Mrs. Atwood had hinted
at, as the consequence of his daughter's singularity, was alarmed
and distressed at the idea of her illness. He came immediately to
Westbridge, and took Janet home to recruit. But, before he went, Mr.
Mainwaring had a long conversation with him, and, either by his cogent
arguments, or because some new crotchet had displaced the old one, he
obtained his permission that Janet should resume the flowing robes
against which he had once declared such unsparing antipathy.
During the next summer, Janet stopped for a few weeks at Mrs. Atwood's,
on her way to Saratoga, and we took advantage of the opportunity
to call upon her, acting towards her as though this were her first
visit to Westbridge, and considering it an act of delicate politeness
to ignore the fact that the young lady, whom we saw so simply and
tastefully attired, had any connection with the Bloomer who had
awakened our horror not long before.
The latest piece of news in Westbridge is the established fact that
Mr. Mainwaring is engaged to Miss McLeod. He who has withstood all the
charms of the well brought up ladies of our town has been captivated
by a Bloomer, and that, too, after having declared, openly and
repeatedly, his disapproval and utter distaste for all women who had in
any way made themselves conspicuous. But there seems to be naturally
a perversity in all matters of this kind. Love evidently delights in
bending the inclinations in that very direction against which the
professions have been the loudest and most decided.
CELESTIAL PHENOMENA.--MAY.
BY D. W. BELISLE.
COMA BERENICES.--This is a beautiful cluster of small stars, situated
about five degrees east of the equinoctial colure, and midway between
Cor-Caroli on the north-east, and Denebola on the south-west. The stars
that compose this group are small, but very bright, and are in close
proximity to each other; therefore the cluster is readily distinguished
from all others. There is a number of small nebulæ in this assemblage,
which give it a faintly luminous appearance, somewhat resembling the
milky-way. The whole number of stars in this cluster is forty-three. It
comes to the meridian on the 13th of May.
This constellation is of Egyptian origin. Berenice was married to
Evergetes, King of Egypt, and, on his going out to battle against the
Assyrians, she vowed to dedicate her hair, which was of extraordinary
beauty, to the goddess of beauty, if her lord returned in safety.
Evergetes returned victorious, and, agreeably to her oath, her locks
were shorn and deposited in the temple of Venus, whence they shortly
disappeared, and the king and queen were assured by Conon, the
astronomer, that they had been taken from the altar by Jupiter and
placed among the stars; and, to convince them of the truth of his
assertion, pointed out this cluster, and
"There Berenice's locks first rose so bright,
The heavens bespangling with dishevelled light."
This group being among the unformed stars until that time, and
not known as a constellation, the king became satisfied with the
declaration of Conon, who, pointing to the group, said, "There, behold
the locks of our queen." Berenice was not only reconciled to this
petty larceny of Jupiter, but was proud of the partiality of the god.
Callimachus, who flourished before the Christian era, thus adverts to
it--
"Immortal Conon, blest with skill divine,
Amid the sacred skies beheld me shine;
E'en me, the beauteous hair, that lately shed
Refulgent beams from Berenice's head;
The locks she fondly vowed, with lifted arms,
Imploring all the powers to save from harm
Her dearer lord, when from his bride he flew,
To wreak stern vengeance on the Assyrian crew."
* * * * *
CORVUS.--This small constellation is situated east of the Cup, and may
be readily distinguished by four bright stars of the third magnitude,
which form a trapezium; the two upper ones being three and a half
degrees apart, and the two lower ones six degrees apart. Algorab, the
most eastern star of these four, forms the east wing of the Crow, and
comes to the meridian on the 13th of May. Beta, in the foot of the
Crow, is seven degrees south of Algorab, and is the brighter of the two
lower stars; and on the left, six degrees west of Beta, is Epsilon,
which marks the neck, while two degrees below it is Al Chiba, a star of
the fourth magnitude, which marks the head.
This constellation is of Greek origin, and it is gravely asserted by
their ancient historians that this bird was originally of the purest
white, but was changed, for tale-bearing, to its present color.
"The raven once in snowy plumes was drest,
White as the whitest dove's unsullied breast,
Fair as the guardian of the capitol,
Soft as the swan, a fair and lovely fowl;
His tongue, his prating tongue, had changed him quite
To sooty blackness from the purest white."
Apollo, becoming jealous of Coronis, sent a crow to watch her
movements. The bird discovered her partiality for Ischys, and
immediately acquainted the god with it, which so fired his indignation:
that
"The color left his look,
The wreath his head, the harp his hand forsook;
His silvered bow and feathered shafts he took,
And lodged an arrow in the tender breast
That had so often to his own been prest."
To reward the crow, he placed it among the constellations. Other Greek
mythologists assert that it takes its name from a princess of Phocis,
who was transformed into a crow by Minerva to rescue the maid from the
pursuit of Neptune. One of the Latin poets reverts to it thus--
"For, as my arms I lifted to the skies,
I saw black feathers from my fingers rise;
I strove to fling my garments on the ground,
My garments turned to plumes and girt me round;
My hands to beat my naked bosom try,
Nor naked bosom now nor hands had I;
Lightly I tripped, nor weary, as before,
Sunk in the sand, but skimmed along the shore,
Till, rising on my wings, I was preferred
To be the chaste Minerva's virgin bird."
* * * * *
VIRGO.--This constellation lies directly south of Coma Berenice,
and east of Leo. It occupies considerable space in the heavens, and
contains one hundred and ten stars. It comes to the meridian the 23d of
this month. Spica Virginis, which marks the left hand of the Virgin, is
a star of the first magnitude, and is of great brilliancy, and, with
Denebola in Leo, and Arcturus in Boötes, forms a large equilateral
triangle, which, joined with Cor-Caroli, a star of the same brilliancy,
at an equal distance north, forms the _Diamond of Virgo_. The stars
in this diamond are of equal brilliancy, rendering it one of the most
clearly defined and most beautiful figures in this part of the heavens.
This constellation is probably of Egyptian origin. A zodiac discovered
among the ruins of Estne, in Egypt, commences with Virgo, and,
according to the regular progression of the equinoxes, this zodiac
must be two thousand years older than that at Dendera. This relic
of the earliest ages of the human species is conjectured to have
been preserved during the deluge by Noah, to perpetuate the actual
appearance of the heavens immediately subsequent to the creation.
The Athenians also claim the origin of this constellation, maintaining
that Erigone was changed into Virgo. Erigone was the daughter of
Icarius, an Athenian, who was slain by some peasants whom he had
intoxicated with wine; and it caused such a feeling of despair in
Erigone, that she repaired to the wood and hung herself on the bough of
a tree.
"Thus once in Marathon's impervious wood,
Erigone beside her father stood,
When, hastening to discharge her pious vow,
She loosed the knot and culled the strongest bough."
* * * * *
ASTERION ET CHARA.--This is a modern constellation, and embraces two in
one. It lies north of Coma Berenice, and west of Bootes, and comes to
the meridian the 20th of May. Cor-Caroli is the brightest star in this
group, and marks Chara, the southern hound. Asterion is north of this,
and is marked by a small star about three degrees above Cor-Caroli.
These two hounds are represented as chasing the Great Bear around the
Pole, being held in a leash by Bootes, who is constantly urging them on
in their endless track. The remaining stars in this group are too small
and scattered to excite interest.
* * * * *
URSA MAJOR.--This constellation is situated between Ursa Minor on the
north, and Leo Minor on the south, and is one of the most conspicuous
in the northern hemisphere. It has been an object of observation in
all ages of the world. The shepherds of Chaldea, Magi of Persia,
priests of Belus, Phœnician navigators, Arabs of Asia, and American
aborigines seem to have been equally struck with its peculiar outlines,
and each gave to the group a name which signified, in their respective
languages, the same thing--_Great Bear_. It is somewhat remarkable that
nations which had no knowledge or communication with each other should
have given the same name to this constellation. The name is perfectly
arbitrary, there being no resemblance in it whatever to a bear or any
other animal.
This cluster is remarkable for seven of its brightest stars forming
a dipper, four stars forming the bowl, and three, curving slightly,
shaping the handle. These seven stars are of uncommon brilliancy, and
need no description to point out their locality. The whole number of
stars in this group is eighty-seven, and it comes to the meridian the
10th of May.
MANUFACTURE OF PINS.
WE often hear the expression used, when talking of anything
comparatively useless, that "it's not worth a pin;" and from this we
might be led to suppose, did we not know it to be otherwise, that a pin
was a very worthless thing, instead of being what it is--one of the
most useful that is manufactured in this or in any other country. As
the use of pins is principally confined to the female portion of our
community, perhaps the following short account of their manufacture,
for which we are indebted to Knight's "Cyclopædia of Industry," a very
useful book, may not be uninteresting to our readers:--
"Pins are made of brass wire. The first process which it undergoes, by
which any dirt or crust that may be attached to the surface is got rid
of, is by soaking it in a diluted solution of sulphuric acid and water,
and then beating it on stones. It is then straightened; after which, it
is cut into pieces, each about long enough for six pins. These latter
pieces are then pointed at each end in the following manner: The person
so employed sits in front of a small machine, which has two steel
wheels or mills turning rapidly, of which the rims are cut somewhat
after the manner of a file: one coarse for the rough formation of the
points, and the other fine for finishing them. Several of these pieces
are taken in the hand, and, by a dexterous movement of the thumb and
forefinger, are kept continually presenting a different face to the
mill against which they are pressed. The points are then finished off
by being applied in the same manner to the fine mill. After both ends
of the pieces have been pointed, one pin's length is cut off from each
end, when they are re-pointed, and so on until each length is converted
into six pointed pieces. The stems of the pins are then complete. The
next step is to form the head, which is effected by a piece of wire
called the mould, the same size as that used for the stems, being
attached to a small axis or lathe. At the end of the wire nearest the
axis is a hole, in which is placed the end of a smaller wire, which is
to form the heading. While the mould-wire is turned round by one hand,
the head-wire is guided by the other, until it is wound in a spiral
coil along the entire length of the former. It is then cut off close
to the hole where it was commenced, and the coil taken off the mould.
When a quantity of these coils are prepared, a workman takes a dozen or
more of them at a time in his left hand, while, with a pair of shears
in his right, he cuts them up into pieces of two coils each. The heads,
when cut off, are annealed by being made hot and then thrown into
water. When annealed, they are ready to be fixed on the stems. In order
to do this, the operator is provided with a small stake, upon which
is fixed a steel die, containing a hollow the exact shape of half the
head. Above this die, and attached to a lever, is the corresponding die
for the other half of the head, which, when at rest, remains suspended
about two inches above the lower one. The workman takes one of these
stems between his fingers, and, dipping the pointed end of a bowl
containing a number of heads, catches one upon it and slides it to the
other end; he then places it in the lower die, and, moving a treadle,
brings down the upper one four or five times upon the head, which
fastens it upon the stem, and also gives it the required figure. There
is a small channel leading from the outside to the centre of the dies,
to allow room for the stem. The pins are now finished as regards shape,
and it only remains to tin or whiten them. A quantity of them are
boiled in a pickle, either a solution of sulphuric acid or tartar, to
remove any dirt or grease, and also to produce a slight roughness upon
their surfaces which facilitates the adhesion of the tin. After being
boiled for half an hour, they are washed, and then placed in a copper
vessel with a quantity of grain tin and a solution of tartar; in about
two hours and a half, they are taken out, and, after being separated
from the undissolved tin by sifting, are again washed; they are then
dried by being well shaken in a bag with a quantity of bran, which is
afterwards separated by shaking them up and down in open wooden trays,
when the bran flies off and leaves the pins perfectly dry and clean.
The pins are then papered for sale."
Pins are also made solely by machinery. There is a manufactory for this
sort (the Patent Solid Headed Pins, near Stroud) where nearly 3,250,000
are made daily.
A pin, then, is not such an insignificant article, after all. We see
it has to go through a great many processes and hands before it is
finished. If we take one, examine it closely, and mark how nicely it is
made, how neatly the head is fixed on to the shank, how beautifully it
is pointed, and how bright it shines, we shall see a very good specimen
of what the ingenuity and labor of man can do upon a piece of metal.
It is really surprising what a large number are made, and how many
persons are employed in their manufacture. We read, some time ago, an
amusing article from "Bentley's Miscellany," wherein the writer asks
the question: "What becomes of the pins?" and puts forth the rather
curious assertion that, if they continue to be lost and made away with
as they are now, some day or other the whole globe will be found to be
"one vast shapeless mass of pins."
In conclusion, we would recommend our readers always to bear in mind
the excellent maxim which Franklin attached to a pin, namely, "A pin a
day, a groat a year."
ADVICE TO A BRIDE.
I BEG to remind my daughter that the husband has a thousand
elements of disturbance in his daily avocations to which his wife is
an utter stranger; and it will be her privilege, and her title to the
respect of all whose respect is worth having, to make his own fireside
the most attractive place in the universe for the calm repose of a
weary body or excited mind. The minor comforts, which are the most
valuable, because the most constantly in requisition, will depend more
upon her look, her manner, and the evidence of her forethought, than
upon all the other occurrences of life.--_Parental Precepts._
"TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION."
MR. GODEY: Miss Snipe left my house in great haste on the
second day of April, forgetting, in her precipitation, several articles
of her wardrobe and her portfolio. While waiting an opportunity to
forward them to Wimpleton, a natural impulse of curiosity induced
me to examine the contents of the portfolio, when, lo and behold, a
letter, directed to yourself, fell on the floor. Being loosely folded
and unsealed, I ventured to open it, supposing it merely a business
communication. Imagine my surprise on discovering the nature of its
contents, for I had been unable to penetrate the reasons of her
hurried departure; but do not, I pray you, accuse me of having read it
_through_.
Finding, as far as I proceeded, nothing very heinous laid to myself,
nor any insinuations against my table, I judge proper to forward it
without delay, according to the address. However, I can with difficulty
forgive her for calling my boy a "cub," and think, moreover, that her
dislike towards my Irish inmate is unreasonable. As to Mr. Sparks--I
do not blame her so much--he has not yet paid me those gloves. And as
to the writer herself, I am really astonished--we all thought her such
a quiet and unobservant little body--on becoming acquainted with this
spirited volley from her pen. Will there not be both laughing and wry
faces in my household, if you publish it? And, though April is gone
(I am sorry the letter was not sooner found), do give the world the
benefit of her experience, to oblige and amuse
Yours, faithfully,
HELEN MASHUM.
* * * * *
_April_ 1, 1854.
MY DEAR MR. EDITOR: Such a tumult as we have all day been in,
by reason of that abominable practice of "fooling," has been enough to
destroy the patience of a saint. I am nearly out of my wits. Here have
I come, at my niece's invitation, to spend a fortnight with her, in a
boarding-house. "She was lonely," she said; "Mr. Sparks was so much at
the office; and it would be such a favor if I could stay with her a few
days."
So I have come from my quiet country home, fifteen miles off, to this
noisy town that calls itself a city, to visit Ann Sophia; and, between
you and me, I was an April fool from the beginning. There are several
other young married women boarding in the same house, who, like my
flighty niece, have apparently nothing under the sun to do but go
shopping and pop in and out of each other's rooms. Some of them are in
her parlor every evening when she is not out at parties or lectures,
and, as she spins street yarn every morning, I cannot for the life of
me see what opportunity she takes to be lonesome. But I do see that
she gives herself no time to keep her husband's shirts made up and in
order; and I find that I have no lack of employment, for she has kept
me sewing ever since I came.
"Sophy, dear," says I, the morning after my arrival, "give me some
sewing; I cannot be idle, and have nothing but this knitting to do for
myself."
Whereupon she brought out a whole piece of fine bleached cloth, and
proposed that we should amuse ourselves by making it into shirts for
her husband.
"Holton needs them so much," said she, "and you are so kind as to offer
your services, aunty; it would cost so much to hire them done, and his
salary is so small now, you know, and boarding so expensive."
And to work we began; but the truth is that it is very little which Ann
Sophia has done thus far. Well, what is a single woman good for unless
to make herself generally useful? A precious sight of twaddle have I
read first and last in the papers and magazines about the delights and
privileges of old-maidery. Delights of a fiddlestick! Pulled hither and
thither, perhaps--as I have been--at the beck of married brothers and
sisters, and a score of idle nephews and nieces; if you have a home of
your own, not allowed to stay at it in peace for more than one week
together. Sister Julia's children have all got the measles, and Aunt
Abigail must go and take care of them; or brother Peter's wife is dead,
and Abigail must pack up and go to keep house for him till she becomes
attached to the motherless tribe, and feels quite at home among them,
when he gets a new wife, and Abigail departs just as she begins to be
happy. To crown all, when she puts her own house in order, and has a
nice lot of sweetmeats and pickles made up, along comes a troop of
relations, male and female, young and old, to visit dear Aunt Abigail
and eat up all her stores, to say nothing of completely kicking out the
stair carpet. But I am wandering from my subject--a thing which I am
apt to do.
The house is quiet now, and, having finished one of Holton Sparks's
shirts this evening, I embrace the respite to retire to my own
room. After all, I do not feel like scolding about Ann Sophia. The
pleasant-tempered girl looks so much like her mother, brother Peter's
first wife; I brought her up, too, at least till she was ten years old,
when her father married again. Her chief fault is her youth, and she
will get over that, dear child.
However, to return, I cannot sleep till I have expressed my indignation
at the follies that have been perpetrated in honor--rather should I
say, in dishonor--of All Fools' Day, hoping that you, Mr. Editor, will
lift your voice in favor of putting a stop to such absurdities. In the
first place, I had scarcely risen, when I was myself made the victim of
imposition; for, while I was dressing, there was a rap at the door, and
I heard Sparks's voice--
"Aunt Abigail, are you up? Here is a letter postmarked Wimpleton. It
came by the night train, probably."
"As sure as fate," thought I, "there has something dreadful happened
at home." And, being much agitated, I tore open the envelop in great
haste, without observing that the superscription was not in brother
Sam's hand, and wondering why Sparks did not wait to learn the nature
of its tidings. As truly as I am a living woman, there was nothing
inside but a great foolscap sheet, and on it these words, in staring
capitals--
"APRIL FOOL."