Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

THE LONDON AND PARIS LADIES' MAGAZINE FOR NOVEMBER, 1853.

First bonnet of blue satin, lined with amber, silk, and white lace.

Second ditto composed of crimson velvet and black blond, lined with white satin, with brides of pink roses and strings of white.

Chapeau of black and white straw, trimmed with two small feathers; cap inside of lace, mixed with flowers and narrow ribbon bows.

Fourth bonnet of straw and velvet, partly covered with black lace, fastened on with rosettes of ribbon and ends. Morning cap of white lace and plaid ribbon. Evening ditto of black blond and red flowers. Second ditto of white crépe and pink roses, with dark velvet leaves.

Pelerine of muslin, embroidered, edged with a fall of the same, and fastened up the front with small bows terminating with a bunch of ribbons at the waist.

DESCRIPTION OF MODEL.

We give a model of a new sleeve with this number, one that will be found very suitable for winter dresses, as displaying to advantage the favourite bouillon under-sleeve: it requires to be trimmed round the edge with any style of narrow trimming suiting with that on the dress, and is equally suitable for morning or carriage dress.

THE SEA-BEACH.

The sea

THE shores of our islands, and those of nearly all other countries, when not bounded by cliffs, are protected from the incursions of the sea by large accumulations of sand or loose gravel. These mineral substances are driven towards the shore by the currents and waves of the ocean, and they are frequently the only protection to low lands from inundation during violent storms. may, therefore, in some respects, be said to form its own boundaries. It would be easy to find numerous illustrations of this fact; it will be sufficient to mention one. A large portion of the town of Hythe, in Kent, is below the level of high water at spring tides, but it is protected by an extensive sloping beach formed by the sea itself, and is thus safely sheltered from the effects of the violent storms which in winter often rage on the coast.

The sea-beach will probably appear an inauspicious subject of scientific research; but there are few, if we are not mistaken, of greater importance, of more varied interest, or of more difficult investigation. It is one of those subjects upon which few people have ever spent a thought, and yet the following questions are well worth an answer. How is it formed? How is it transported? By what means may it be kept in situations where it is required? and by what means may its accumulation be prevented, in places where it impedes navigation by filling up the mouths of harbours and rivers? In briefly answering these questions, the best illustrations, because the most familiar, are to be obtained from our own seacoasts.

Wherever water flows between banks unable to resist its solvent or mechanical force, or over low grounds, it carries away a portion of mineral matter in solution. This it deposits in some part of its course where it has comparative rest. The banks of rivers are fretted away by the washing of the tide, headlands opposing the course of the water are vigorously attacked and ultimately re

85

moved, and when an easier passage has been obtained in one place the stream is directed on another, so that it is always adjusting a channel, which, however, it cannot retain. The sea in the same manner wears away the base of its cliffs, which, like retaining walls, prevent it from spreading, and when the foundation or support is thus removed the higher parts fall by their own gravity on the shore. For a time these accumulations of earth or rock form an outwork against the force of the waves; but when they have been for a few weeks or months exposed to the storms of winter, the mass of broken fragments is carried away, and the sea renews its attack upon the cliff. When a few moons have waxed and waned, another mass replaces the one swept away by preceding storms. Thus, year after year, and century after century, the operation is repeated, and inconceiv able quantities of solid earth are swallowed by the ocean. It is not necessary to look far for the evidences of these changes. There is, perhaps, no part of the coast of England where the cause and effect can be better observed than on the cliffs of blue clay in the Isle of Sheppey. Not a winter passes without adding, on these shores, to the domain of the sea. Many acres of land sometimes fall at once; and the fossil collector strolls over the beach, after a severe storm, with as much certainty of success as the hunter tracks his game after the breaking of a frost.

A little further eastward, on the same coast, there is a headland called the Reculvers, and on the verge of the cliff stand the towers of an ancient church, the other portions having been destroyed. There are records still in existence, proving that the church was once at a considerable distance from the sea; but tide after tide broke upon the cliff, until the larger portion of the church itself was overthrown, and that which remains is protected from the same fate by works erected under the order of the Admiralty to prevent the further inroad of the sea; it being necessary to preserve the spires as landmarks for vessels. These lofty objects, called the Sisters, are well known to all who navigate the eastern coast of England and the Straits of Dover.

A large portion of earthy matter is thrown into the sea, and with it masses of limestone, along the line of coast we have mentioned; and from Margate to Dover the chalk, with its embedded flints, has been in the way described undermined. Washed from place to place by waves and currents, the rough and angular stones are smoothed and rounded, and so by continual rolling formed into pebbles. Frisi, a celebrated Italian writer, asserts that the masses thus thrown into the sea are not rounded by friction, because he could not make pebbles by shaking stones in a box; but all scientific writers of the present century agree in attributing their formation to this cause, and if evidence be required in addition to that collected by them, it will be only necessary to examine the beach of any portion of the south-eastern coast already mentioned, where the numerous specimens of rounded chalk, cement stone, and indurated clay, will convince the sceptical.

The pebbles which compose the shingle beaches must then be considered as fragments of rock or stone, broken from the banks of rivers and the cliffs of the sea, or carried into tidal waters by surface streams flowing over the land. By the constantly advancing and receding motion of the water produced by tidal and other currents

they are rolled, and pebbles are formed. The sand and mud have the same origin, and the deposition of one or the other depends upon the rock that bounds the coast, or the geological character of some distant point from which a prevailing current flows.

To trace the progress of the beach is a far more difficult task. The accumulation of light particles of sand upon the shore is easily understood; but to follow the ever-travelling shingle from one district to another requires not only a close observer, but also a shrewd and philosophical mind. Those who have no knowledge of the sea-shore but in periods of atmospheric tranquillity and repose, under a bright summer sky, when the light sparkles from a waveless sea, may imagine that when once the shingle has been deposited upon the sloping beach, it remains immoveable. But they must watch it in storm as well as in calm; they must range the shore, when thick clouds, almost impermeable to light, underhang the sun, and the waves, tumultuously rolling with foaming crests before the roaring winds, break like maddened assailants upon the shelving beach. It not unfrequently happens in the winter, that, when a strong wind blows from the same quarter for a few days, the sea will carry away many tons of shingle, and leave the shore almost entirely unprotected from the remorseless fury of the storm. When the tempest subsides, the wind perhaps changes to some other point of the compass, and in a few days a quantity of shingle is restored equal to, or even greater than, that which had been swept away.

To bring this subject within bounds, and to render the present inquiry more interesting, it will be desirable to confine the attention to one locality, and that which seems most applicable to the present purpose is the south and south-easten coast, which has been already mentioned as one of the most desirable for the study of this subject.

The first accumulation of beach that requires to be noticed is the Chesil Bank, west of the Bill of Portland. Between this bank and the Isle of Portland there is a large lagoon, into which vessels are not unfrequently driven when the wind is blowing violently from the south-west. Proceeding eastward from the Bill of Portland, there is no continuous shingle-beach till we reach Selsea Bell. At the Needles, in the Isle of Wight, there is a large accumulation after certain winds have prevailed for a time; but it is continually shifting, and does not enter the Solent above Hurst Castle. Near Portsmouth, also, it is found; but from the Selsea Bell to the Medway, it lies upon the coast as an immense marine deposit, like the gravels on the heaths and commons round the metropolis.

Now it is a curious fact, that the beach on this line of coast always moves, in its outward journey, in one direction, proceeding along the Hampshire and Sussex shores to those of Kent, rounding the point at Dover, and then travelling to Deal, (where there is an immense accumulation,) Herne Bay, and the Isle of Sheppey. It must not be supposed that the beach never returns over the coast in a contrary direction, for an opposite prevailing wind will frequently drive back the shingle which a few hours before was moving forward towards its destination. The beach is, in fact, always shifting; but the fresh supply, upon the coast between Margate and the Medway, travels westward, while that which returns is only brought into situations it has before occupied.

The preservation of the beach, as already intimated, is a matter of great importance upon some parts of the coast. The high shingle-banks secure the low lands from inundation; and their removal would open to the sea large extents of cultivated land. In other situations, the works erected by the engineer to protect the shore, or to facilitate the discharge of surface waters, would without this protection be undermined and destroyed. To retain the beach collected by natural causes, stone or timber constructions, called groynes, are erected, stretching down the beach in parallel or zig-zag lines, like walls or fences. Those of our readers who have visited Brighton, Dover, or almost any other town on the sea-coast, must have observed on the shore a series of short timbers, or piles, united by planks, jutting out from the land to a greater or less distance into the sea. These are groynes. The piles, or upright pieces of timber, are driven into the ground a greater or less distance as circumstances may require, and usually rise three or four feet at least above the ordinary level of the beach. To these piles planks are fixed, by large nails or spikes, as closely as possible. The groynes are commonly from ten to twenty feet apart, the distance being regulated according to the position of the place and the experience of the engineer. The object of the groynes is to prevent the travelling of the beach, by raising an impediment to its onward. motion. To understand the manner in which they accomplish this object, it is necessary to trace the effect of the sea upon the shingle, which may be as well done by following one pebble in its course as by calculating the progress of the mass, and this process being more easily explained is better suited for our purpose.

Imagine, then, a smooth shelving shore upon which the tide is, at stated periods, rising and falling, and upon this shore let there be a solitary pebble-where will it go? What will be its journey before it leaves the shore on which it is temporarily lodged? If the great waves producing tides always advanced and retired at right angles to the coast, and if the water had no other motion, and no impediment, the pebble would continue to roll up and down the same line, and that line would be perpendicular to the shore. As the wave advanced it would drive the pebble upward, and as it receded draw it back into deep water; and wave after wave would repeat the same motions, so nearly in the same line, that a century might pass before it had made much progress forward. But these conditions are not to be found in nature, and a great mistake is made by those who imagine that the only tidal motion is at right angles to the shore. As the motion cannot be known till the forces are determined, the action of the tides is a primary question in this inquiry, and must be considered before we proceed much further.

When the sea is calm, scarcely excited to a murmur by the motionless atmosphere, it is not at rest; the tide is always ebbing or flowing, so that the great body of water forming the ocean is never in equilibrium, and at no point of its vast area is it so for more than a moment, when its balance is wavering between the fall and flow of tide. Standing upon the beach of any shore-Dover, for example-when the tide is rising, it would be supposed by any observer that the water was advancing directly towards him. This is to a certain extent true, but it is too limited a view of the effect. The water is not only gradually rising upon the shore at Dover, but it is

THE LONDON AND PARIS LADIES' MAGAZINE FOR NOVEMBER, 1853.

forcing its way up the Straits, and is also rising at Deal, Margate, Sheppey, and all the places on the Essex coast. It is threading the tortuous channel of the Medway, in which the tidal action is observed to some distance above Rochester-bridge, and is at the same time rushing with more impetuosity into the less encumbered and wider outlet of the Thames. If this be true, and places hundreds of miles distant, and it may be added at opposite points of the island, present the same phenomena, it must also be true of places only a few miles apart. The motion of the tides is not, therefore, simply at right angles to the shore at any place, but is also advancing in a direction apparently parallel with it. The pebble upon the sea-shore is then acted upon in two directions, and it moves in a diagonal line between them. Lying on the shore, at any point between Dover-harbour and Sheerness-dockyard, it must be in constant motion from the former towards the latter, as long as it is under the influence of the tide; every time it is thrown up by the wave, it is in advance of the point from which it was carried.

If the rising tide forces the pebble westward, the ebbing tide will carry it eastward; so that the tidal actions being equal and other conditions the same, the pebble may continue to move backward and forward within certain limits, and in the course of months its position be almost unchanged. Much of the unprotected shingle is, no doubt, thus traversing the shore backward and forward; while other portions, with some impediments, are constantly moving forward. The force of the retiring wave is not sufficient to sweep away all the beach from the shore, and at high tide much is thrown to the highwater mark, and there remains till a higher flood carries it forward.

Storms sometimes raise the body of water on the coast; and, when the wind blows in the direction of the ebb or flow, an accumulation of shingle, many feet in thickness, may be removed in the course of a few hours.

From what has been said, the use of groynes must be evident in restraining the onward course of the shingle. In violent storms, or during the long continuance of a wind from the same quarter, they do not always retain the shingle; but, under ordinary circumstances, they are an effective protection to the coast.

THE TOUR IN EUROPE.-Most of our readers will probably recollect the Diorama of the "Mississippi," which was exhibited in London some ten or twelve years ago. Mr. J. R. Smith, the artist of that Diorama, exhibited it also on the Continent; and he says, very naïvely, "it occurred to him, that having brought a river 3000 miles long across the Atlantic, that he should endeavour to take back the principal part of Europe in return." Land and houses for water is generally a somewhat unprofitable exchange for those who get the latter; and in this instance, whatever the value of the mimic representation of the great river of the West, we think the views in Europe exceed it in beauty and interest. There are fifty-seven pictures, which cover, we are told, 30,000 square feet of canvas; and we do not doubt the assertion in the least. They are now exhibiting, as a "Moving Diorama," in Saville House, Leicester Square, and represent nature in the wildest forms, as seen in the Alps, Mont Blanc, and an eruption of Mount Vesuvius,

87

and in its most beautiful shape, as in the grotto of Antiparos; whilst what art has done to assist or distort nature is shown to admirable effect in the views of Rouen, Paris, the Gardens of St. Cloud and those of Versailles, Antwerp and its Museum, Brussels, the Rhine, its islands and its castles, Hamburg, Berlin, Heidelburg Castle, the lake, castle, and town of Sheen, that beautiful and singular island Isola Bella, Milan, Venice, Florence, Rome, and Naples. It is scarcely possible to speak too highly of the beauty of these views, of the delightful effects of the dioramic machinery for producing light and shade; showing the effects of day and night, of sun-rise and sun-set, for the first view, in which we see the white cliffs of England, the British Channel, and groups of shipping. Sun-set steals over it with a beautiful calmness; and then the sea is convulsed with a storm, and the conflict of the angry elements are displayed with almost a fearful approach to reality. From Hamburg by day to the same city lit up at night by the lamps in the gardens and the streets, and the lights in private dwellings, is almost a magical change. But beauties could be pointed out in every view, and we must content ourselves by saying that the "Tour in Europe "constitutes one of the most attractive exhibitions of the day. The music is good, and generally, not always, characteristic of the scene; the performer (we do not know his name) is an excellent pianiste: the explanatory lecture is delivered, not at all unpleasantly, by a foreigner, we believe a German.

ADIEU TO THE SUMMER.

anon

THE summer is past! we are looking again
For winter, old winter, o'er valley and plain;
The leaves are all falling, the "last rose
Will be drooping and dying, like those who are gone;
And the redbreast will seek, like the robins of yore,
A meal from the crumbs of the cottager's store.

No longer we hie with a bound to the sun,
On the mountains so early, when day is begun;
The dew on the grass, and the birds and perfume,
Will be lost, where the morning will glimmer and gloom;
And the heart will be chill'd with the thought of the past,
So cloudless in seeming, with the present o'ercast."
Oh! summer, gay summer, with moments so bright,
When thought takes the hue of the glittering light,
When only to be yields a pleasure alone,

[ocr errors]

Though friends are uncertain, and fortune unknown,
Thy light breeze can charm, on my forehead that plays,
As I revel in sunshine, and feel the glad rays.

How fond is the feeling that bids thee adieu!
Thy hills topp'd with verdure, thy mountains with blue;
Thy brooks, that flow gently, and murmuring seem,
Like the hush of far voices, as onward they stream;
Thy fields of bright yellow, thy banks in the shade,-
Earth, air, sky, and ocean, in glory array'd!

LES ANGLAIS POUR RIRE." An Englishman of distinction, Lord F-, who recently arrived in Paris to take part in its pleasures, went a few evenings ago to a public ball at the Casino. His eccentric manners soon attracted attention, and the words 'an English milord' flew from mouth to mouth. In a short time a young woman, thinking no doubt he must needs have a good

stock of bank notes, took, sans façon, the arm of the islander, and proposed to accompany him. Lord Fwillingly accepted the honour of her society. A few minutes after, his fair companion was saluted by two young men dressed in the highest style of elegance. They addressed her as the Marquise de Varennes, and she called one the Count de Lancelot, and the other the Duke de Beaumanoir. The Englishman was presented to these illustrious personages, and soon became on friendly terms with them. The whole party shortly after went to a cafe, where a large quantity of spirits was consumed, the Englishman taking the greater part. His ideas were somewhat confused; but his new friends proposed to play at odd or even for 5f. each time, and he consented. He soon lost a sum of 300f., and was about to pay, when the Count de Lancelot prevented him, saying that they had only been playing for amusement. He however insisted; whereupon the Duke de Beaumanoir proposed that the money should be spent in a supper at the Maison d'Or. This was supported by the Marquise de Varennes, and generally approved of. The count and the duke each invited a lady, and the whole party supped very gaily. After the dessert had been disposed of, the Duke de Beaumanoir proposed a little game of lansquinet. Lord F-excused himself on the ground that, not expecting to be in such good company, he had not brought sufficient money. The duke told him that his signature would suffice; and at once rang for cards. The waiter said that he could not give any, as it was the rule of the establishment not to encourage card-playing. Count de Lancelot then said he would soon get a pack, and went out to buy one. On his return play commenced, and Lord F- ended by losing a sum of 14,000f. He immediately gave a check on Messrs. Rothschild, the bankers, for 8000f., and said he would pay the remainder at his own residence. He then threw himself on a sofa and slept till morning. On awaking, he was told of the loss he had sustained. He was rather surprised; but, being rich, did not appear to feel any great concern. The following evening he went to the Casino, and while there, was accosted by a woman in a domino and mask, who told him that he had been swindled, that the duke and count with whom he had supped were professional Greeks, and that the countess and marquises, their companions, were lorettes. She also told him that they had played with marked cards. Vexed at having been made a dupe, Lord Flost no time in going to Messrs. Rothschild's and giving orders that his check should not be paid; but he was told that payment had already been effected. He resolved to think no more of the matter. But the pretended Count de Lancelot waited on him to receive payment of the 6000f., and he was annoyed at so much impudence. He accordingly not only refused to pay, but made a complaint at the Prefecture of Police. A warrant was issued for the arrest of all the parties, and yesterday M. Boudrot, Commissary of the Délégations Judiciaires, captured the three lorettes and the two Greeks. In the residence of one of the latter a painting by one of the great masters, of considerable value, and other property, were found. He could not give any satisfactory account as to how those things came into his possession, and they were seized." We suppose from the statement of the droit of some parties having been arrested, that certain parts of the above account may be true; but it is not

very probable that an English nobleman, or any Englishman who had mixed at all with the world, could be so silly as to take a girl of the town at a dancing place for a marchioness, and her two male associates for a duke and a count. The Green family is a numerous one, but we never heard of a Green so green as this.

SLAVE SALES IN CHARLESTON.-If the purchaser had not cash or credit sufficient to go a certain length, or if he required, perhaps, only a female domestic servant, he, without compunction, bought the wife or daughter, and left the husband or father to some other bidder, who, perhaps, lived in a part of the country where there would be no chance of the poor slaves ever again meeting with each other. "I have seen the husband," says Zamba, a negro slave," and wife, and sometimes an infant or two, upon the auction table; the husband with his arms around the neck of his faithful and long-loved, although black, partner, imploring in the most moving language, while the tears trickled down his sable cheeks, that they would not separate him from all that he cared for upon the earth; and the poor woman equally moved, and, in many cases, more so, beseeching, with all the eloquence of Nature's own giving, that she might be allowed to toil the remainder of her earthly existence with the only one her heart ever loved! But all in vain. For the convenience of some proud, arrogant, and over-bearing planter, or some iron-hearted slave-dealer, who had all his life been accustomed to regard the black race as merely a superior order of brutes, the most sacred and tender links of humanity were torn asunder, and a few coarse jests and remarks made upon the mighty fuss about nothing! Often is it remarked, 'Feelings of a negro! Where the devil did they find feelings? No, no, my good fellow (addressing the wretched and broken-hearted husband), your wife and children go with me. She is an excellent cook and laundress, I hear; and really I am not in want of a fellow like you at the present.' Or, 'Why, really, I would go out of the way a few dollars to accommodate you all; but I know well enough that you will soon find a wife, go wherever you may; and as for your wife you seem so uneasy to part with, why, I promise you I shall find her a husband to her heart's content.'

THE TEETH AND BREATH.-How often do we find the human face divine disfigured by neglecting the chiefest of its ornaments, and the breath made disagreeable to companions by non-attention to the Teeth! Though perfect in their structure and composition, to keep them in a pure and healthy state requires some little trouble; and if those who are blessed with well-formed teeth knew how soon decay steals into the mouth, making unsightly what otherwise are delightful to admire, and designating unhealthiness by the impurity of the breath, they would spare no expense to chase away these fatal blemishes. But although most ladies are careful, and even particular, in these delicate matters; yet few are sufficiently aware of the imperative necessity of avoiding all noxious or mineral substances of an acrid nature, and of which the greater part of the cheap tooth-powders of the present day are composed. It is highly satisfactory to point out Messrs. Rowlands' Odonto, or Pearl Dentifrice, as a preparation free from all injurious elements, and eminently calculated to embellish and preserve the dental structure, to impart a grateful fragrance to the breath, and to embellish and perpetuate the graces of the mouth.Court Journal.

[merged small][graphic][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

FROM

Polite Literature, etc.

OUR FRENCH CORRESPONDENT.

CHERE AMIE,

DECEMBER, 1853.

BOULEVARD DES ITALIENS, November 27th, 1853.

VELVETS, both plain and Terry, are favourite materials, with rich moires, brocades, popelines, alpagas, &c., &c. Plaids, as usual at this season, form useful and pretty dresses, both for ladies and children; they are particularly so in popelines. Cloth is also much in request for morning wear; and many are of so fine and soft a texture as quite to warrant the favour they meet. The dresses are still made with the basquines or jackets, and some are open in points, confined by a button to the corresponding point, and trimmed with a small ruche. Many of the new taffetas dresses are with flounces, edged with fancy plushes wove in the material; the basques and sleeves trimmed to correspond. Another style, but more elegant, is with wreaths, formed of velvet flowers, and leaves, on every flounce. The richness and size of these trimmings do not accord with more than three flounces without looking overcharged and heavy; but the fashion still prevails of bordering the flounces. These velvet wreaths are very delicate in design, and always black, which contrasts well with all colours, and forms a more or less elegant toilette, according to the colour of the taffetas dress. The loose jacket bodies of black velvet continue to be made for negligé dress, to wear over the usual dress on cold days. They may be made of various other materials as well as velvet; and in dress, a very elegant casaweck or jacket is often worn more resembling the Greek veste. These are richly embroidered, and form elegant additions to any toilette, being sometimes embroidered in gold or silver, and lined with showy colours, and are left quite open. But close jackets of silk or velvet are pretty, with coloured skirts, and sometimes have double and triple basques, edged with lace. These, close to the throat, look well with the large pointed collar so much worn now. The skirts of two different colours are spoken of, as also the flounces alternately wide and narrow.

In evening dress, the double skirts still continue very fashionable, and trimmings of bugles or beads are much in

VOL. 26.

favour. The Grecian body is also fashionable, but many are still worn with berthes. When the body is made open, the berthe descends in a point, and is lost in the basques or jacket. These berthes are often covered with embroidery in pearls, and the open part of the body is confined by bands covered with pearls. Black satin is again announced as appearing amongst the new dresses of the season, and is very elegant, trimmed with flounces of black guipure, headed by feather trimming. There is no doubt these feather trimmings will be a very fashionable and favourite style of ornament this winter, and will appear constantly under some new form. Already bugles are being introduced. Ribbons will be very much used, also, on evening dresses, bordering flounces on edging, the double and triple skirts, the bodies tight, with jacket in tabs attached, which are also bordered with the ribbon to match. Ribbon sometimes likewise forming berthe, terminating in a point.

The out-door costume for little girls consists mostly of velvet paletots with full skirts, and pelerines trimmed with fringe, which descends to the waist; some are also made of cachemire, and embroidered in braid. The round Talma of cloth or velvet, trimmed with galons, are also worn by them; and others have a shoulder-piece, with the skirt part put in, in deep folds, and trimmed all round, as well as the shoulder-piece, with stamped velvet. Frocks of popeline, in plaids, are always pretty, with mantelets of black velvet; others of light pretty-coloured cachemires are made with several flounces, with feston of a different colour; or taffetas dresses with tucks, headed by velvet trimmings. Many of these are made with full bodies of a square form, set into a band. Others are with jacket bodies, but closed in front, with frill of lace round the throat, and trimmed with several rows of velvet or galons round the bottom of the skirts; and the casaque or jacket may be of velvet.

Terry and plain velvets are much in request at this moment for bonnets, but they are generally intermixed with satin, blond, or fancy straws, the varieties in which are very great. The receding crowns still continue fashionable, after terminating with a noeud of satin ribbon. Feathers are very much used on the winter bonnets, but not very large or long. Ruby and green are favourite colours, particularly in satin. Formerly the black velvet bonnet was the invariable winter coiffure, but now more cheerful, at least in out-door toilettes and for bonnets, colours of lively tints seem to be preferred;

« AnteriorContinua »