LADIES’ EXPRESS.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume III, Issue 320, 30 October 1875, Page 3

LADIES’ EXPRESS.

The Editor trill be glad to give insertion te any local contributions from kit lady friends that may be cont id er rd interesting in the family circle, or to the sex generally.] »: ONLY A WOMAN. Onlt a won:an, shrivelled and old ! The prey of the windsand the prey of the cold! Cheeks that are shrunken, Ey>-s that are sunken, Lips that were never o’er bold ; Only a woman, forsaken and poor, Asking an alms at the bronze church door. Hark to the organ 1 Roll upon roll The waves of its music go over her soul. Silks rustle past her, Thicker and faster; The great bell ceases its toll. lain would she enter, but not for the poor Swingeth wide open the bronze church door. Only a woman—waiting alone, Icy cold, on the ice-eold throne. What do they care for her ? M ambling a prayer for her, M Giving no bread but a stone. Wnder old laces their haughty hearts beat, Blocking the woes of their kiu in the street. a woman! In the old days Hope carroiied to her happiest lays! Somebody missed her, Somebody kissed her, Somebody crowned her with praise ; Somebody faced up the battles of life, Strong for her sake who was mother and wife. Somebody lies with a tress of her hair Light on hisheart where the death shadows are ; Somebody waits for her, Op’ning the gates for her, Giving delight for despair, Only a woman nevermore poor, Dead in the snow at- the bronze church door

PARIS FASHIONS.

The fashions of the day are so varied ■nd so fanciful, that it is by no means easy to define which style of toilette is more generally adopted than another. A lady of taste wears that which pleases her best so that it does not clash with certain rules, which are now de rigueur for the female toilette. Thus, a certain number of our elegantes prefer, in this season of intense heat, the blouse tunic to the cuirasse, and the tablier looped up at the back. The blouse tunic is made of some light material, zephyr batiste, toile d’Asie, lawn batiste or Indian foulard, and trimmed, according to the material, with lace quillings and bows of ribbon, a la Watteau, or else with plisses and bands of broderie Anglaise. A novelty consists in the pockets, which are now put on both tablicrs and tunics. These pockets are very large, round or square, and gathered at the top under a bow of velvet or ribbon. Broderie is more than ever a I'ordre du jour. Countess de M. wore the other day at a summer fete, a dress ciel-tlue Sicilienne, embroidered with pale blue corn-flours and wheat-ears ; and a bonnet trimmed to correspond. Another toilette, remarked on the same occasion, was of sapphire-blue silk with tunic in broderie Anglaise, trimmed with old point. A third was of feuille-morte colored silk, embroidered with tea-roses; the wreaths, very wide at the edge of the skirt, and gradually tapering to the waist in the most effective manner. A mourning-toilette was of fine black cashmere, with the fronts and sleeves of Indian silk, and a black bonnet lined with a plisse of white crepe lisse.

A conceited young person once said " This morning I preached to a congrega tion of asses I” “ I thought of that,’ retorted a lady, “ when you called them your beloved brethren.”

C'ambbidoe is proud of a young woman so innocent and pure minded that she remarked to her intended the dav previous to their marriage: “ Now mind! I won’t have a baby brought into the house.”

Some people say that dark-haired women marry first. We differ: it’s the light-headed ones.

"Come, Love, Come!”:—A pensive young man, while singing, “ Come, love, come,” beneath his Dulcinea’s window, the other night, had love, music, wind, and everything else knocked out of him by something in a long white garment, which fed out of a chamber window. It proved to be nobody but his lady-love, who, in her anxiety to know who was serenading her, leaned too far over the window-sill—-hence the result. He says when he sings “ Come, love, come,” again, he will keep away from under the window «s his system cannot stand any more such shocks.

Quiet Bliss.— A bereaved female who has read every word of the testimony and lost her faith in mankind, pensively observes. “ It’s a real pleasure to be a widow now.”

The Nelson Evening Mail has the following : —"A couple of Valley farmers receuily came into town, and sat down on a box in front of a blacksmith’s shop to talk over some business. One of them was say—“ As I was saying, you can four-acre lot for—whoop ' blazes—ouch—dash it—gosh locks !” and he danced around for two or three minutes before the piece of hot ironAie had sat down on dropped from beneath his coat-tail to the sidewalk, and the bystanders found out the cause of his apparent lunacy.