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lime, forming a handsome feature on the side elevation. Opposite the drawing-room, on the other side of the hall, we enter the dining-room connected with the kitchen, but the direct communication is cut off, in order to get a private stair to the chamber floor, and stairs to the cellar, and to stop all smells and sounds from the kitchen. To the kitchen is connected a pantry, large enough to be divided, and a door to the veranda, with steps descending to the yard. The second floor is divided into five comfortable chambers, the hall running through, and giving an excellent communication to all the chambers: a door might lead out on the back veranda, ornamented with stained glass. There would be a cellar constructed under the whole or part of the building, divided into the necessary and desired compartments, including a furnace, with the requisite pipes and lues for heating the whole building.

We have designed this villa for brick, either roughcast or masticated, and painted of a light freestone colour. The window-sills and brackets under balconies to be freestone, the balconies, veranda, and cornice for tower to be wood, coloured to harmonize with the walls. All the window-sashes, &c., and inside wopdwork, except floor, to be of a dark colour, gTained to represent oak or walnut. The first story to be twelve feet in the clear, and the next story eleven feet. Inside shutters to all the windows, made either to slide into the wall, or to fold. The walls to be papered, and the paper of a pattern corresponding with the style of the building; and, if the ceilings of the drawing-room and library were decorated, it would decidedly add to their beauty, and increase the harmony of the interior with the exterii

nor. •

We have in Philadelphia decorative painters whose names are too well known to need farther recommendation, to whose judgment a person may safely trust the execution of the inside painting and decoration of any house, and who will be sure to give satisfaction, when a fair chance is given them for exercising their talent and genius.

It not being our purpose to enter into the particulars of the cost and construction of our design, the hints here given are only thrown out with a view to indicate better the plans of the designer;—when, therefore, the building would be executed, a specification and working drawings will be required from the architect, for the most important details.


1. Hall, 8 X 38.

2. Drawing-room, 18 X 25.

3. Library, 10 X 18.

4. Dining-room, 17 X 20.

5. Kitchen, 16 x 16.

6. Pantry, 5 X 11.

7. Porch, 9 x 19.

8. Veranda, 12 x 26.

9. 16 X 19,

10. 16 X 19.

11. 8 X 19. > Bed -room?.

12. 17 X 17,

13. 18 X 21,

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Fig. 3.

made in this pattern, and trimmed with satin of the same colour as the lining of the hood, are worn to evening parties, &c.; but are not as much admired as the opera-cloak of last season.) Flounced dress of plain silk.

Fig. 3. Dress of Embroidered Cashmere, with trimming of Wreathed Riband.—Undersleeves of rich lace, wide and straight. The hair forms a point on the brow. The cap <i la Marie Stuart is composed of silk net-quillings, flowers and small bow of riband being gracefully arranged on either side.

Fios.4 and 5 are specimens of a new style of Cap, that has lately been extensively adopted.—It is not beautiful, but it is fashionable, and as a novelty is presented to our readers' consideration, without a word of recommendation. As a faithful chronicler of the caprices of the generally tasteful Parisians, we may not omit mention of the continuance of the abominable waistcoat, whose introduction as an article of feminine costume was noticed in an earlier number of the Magazine. The showiest of these, such as««omplete the carriage attire of the (Ugantts who patronise this barbarism, are made of shot silk of brilliant colours, with small gold buttons placed close up

Fio. 2.

the front; and side pockets with flaps. Collarettes of Valenciennes serve, in some cases, in place ot the rolling collar worn by others.

We notice a variation of the waistcoat in a later invention called the Coire de feu, or fireside garment; that has, in description, at least, a more comfortable and homely sound, and may not appear so entirely useless as its predecessor.

It is made of chine1 cloth, of black and gray mixture. Pockets, turned-down collars, and sleeves A la mousauetaire, buttoned in front. The whole trimmed with narrow velvet riband, black, mazarin blue, &c. It is fastened by bands at the throat and waist, passing over spherical buttons.

A very pretty article for out-door dress, termed the " Burnous," is also made of chine' cloth, with a profusion of velvet-riband trimming, a shade darker than the material; quilted lining of the same colour. The collar is provided with a hood, that, when not used as covering for the head, forms a tippet on the shoulders. Bows of riband are arranged on the inside edge to encircle the face.

The mode of dressing the hair now varies very much with the taste of the individual. It ha? become more universally acknowledged, that


Flo. 4.

the same style will not suit every face; and, with commendable independence, the most sensible, as , well as the loveliest, of the Parisian maidens consult their own mirrors, as to the effect of braid or curl, instead of blindly copying that which appears beautiful on some fair friend, whose features may be formed in a very different mould from her own:—now at fashionable reunions may be seen ladies of equally undoubted taste and distinction, coiffurtd according to extremely opposite models.

The hair in raised bands, forming a point in front, leaving the forehead open, and spreading elegantly at the sides, is considered by many of the brightest as the mode par erctlltnct. A cord of pearls, rolled with dark hair, when thus arranged, and falling to the right and left in interlaced rings, constitutes the most fitting ornament.

With waved, puffed bands of hair, variegated geranium wreaths are considerably worn; and this reminds us of the propriety of noticing that wreaths of various descriptions have lately grown into high favour, especially for ball-room attire. Pomegranate flowers, and heaths sprinkled with small white pearls are among the prettiest. An avoidance of showy combs, and the prevalence of the Grecian knot, fastened with pins, and brought low on the neck, form the peculiarities most observable the present season, and are instances of an improved and purer taste.

While we promise to faithfully record the approved novelties of fashion, as they appear, we also desire to note down from time to time such observations as may seem in our wisdom capable of giving entertainment, or of being practically suggestive, to otir lady readers, on matters connected with kindred subjects;—and hope, by

this deviation from the mere minima; of detailed
description of dress, we shall add to the intereM
of this monthly department of the Magazine. Will
this be regarded as an innovation or improve-
ment? We trust the last may be the verdict
rendered; and inferring a pleasant assent from
our fair friends, proceed at will.

It is generally conceded by visiters, as well as
natives, that the women of France excel in those
indefinable graces that make up the perfection of
a refined toilette. But while our countrywomen
acknowledge a sincere and half-envying admira-
tion of the Parisians' success, we do not think
they properly appreciate or comprehend the real
secret by which that success is attained. Cer-
tainly not by a continued effort to dazzle, by the
gaiety of their attire, but—rather by the apparent
unconsciousness of being well dressed; the care'
less ease with which every article is worn; by the
nice adaptation of colour and style to the occasion
and the complexion they are required for: thouzh
colour and style be of the plainest and gravest,
and though the wearer even look shabby to the
glance of the uninitiated. A Parisian dame of
distinction would be apt to smile with the sauciest
contempt, and utter some of the prettiest expres-
sions of affected horror imaginable, on beholding
the extravagant finery that distinguishes the street
attire of some of our city belles. "\

Wecommcnd the following sketch of a Parisian lady, to the attention of those who are interested in the philosophy and significance of dress, quoted from a very amusing work, entitled "Pictures of the French People;" in which is given characteristics, as observable in the various vocations incidental to a residence in their gay metropolis.

"She wears no dazzling colours, no elaborately-
carved zone or buckle; no embroidered flounce ^
is seen waving over her instep; on her feet are
shoes of prunella, the sandals crossing a cotton
stocking of exceeding fineness, or a plain silk one
of soberest gray; or else she wears a delicate
boot of the simplest character. Her gown is of a
stuff well chosen, but of no great cost; yet its
style and fashion shall attract you, and excite the
envy of many a city-bred dame; it is usually a
wrapper, fastened with knots or bows, and pret-
tily edged with a cord that is but slightly per-
ceptible. She has a manner, all her own, of
foliling around her a cloak or shawl, which she
arranges about her neck and shoulders with R
sort of bridling curvet that would convert a hour-
gtoist into a hunchback, but which, in her, is made
to indicate the most exquisite proportions of form
—even in the very act of veiling them. But
how is this done? Ah! that is her secret; and
she keeps it without requiring the protection of a

"Poets, artists, lovers! all ye who worship
Heal Beauty,—that mystic Rose of Genius hap-
pily unrevealed to the mere creatures of common
life,—hover round and admire this flower of
loveliness, at once so judiciously concealed, and
so skilfully displayed! The coquette!—observe
I her! Her walk is a kind of waving and har-
monized motion, that makes her soft and dan-
gerous form to quiver beneath its draperies, as at
midilay the serpent goes gliding through the
I trembling grass. Is it to a demon or an angel
that she owes the graceful undulation, mantling
beneath her long scarf of black silk, agitating the

lace of its edge, and scattering around a breath of balm that I would fain call the Zephyrine of the ' Parisienne?' You perceive about her arms, waist, and throat, a display of 'science in folds,' that compels the most restive material into classic drapery, and reminds you of the antique Mnemosyne! Ah! how well she understands the eloquence of motion! Observe her manner of advancing the foot, and thus moulding her dress with so exact a propriety, that she excites an admiration—which dares be nothing warmer, only because restrained by the profbundest respect. An Englishwoman essaying such a step has the air of a grenadier dashing forward to attack a redoubt. To the Parisian Lady be the honour and the glory of the perfect walk! Yes, the civic power did well to accord her the smooth asphalte of the 'trottoir;'—it was her due! Your bright Unknown displaces no passerby; but waits with a proud humility till all have made way! The look of distinction peculiar to

a highly-bred woman is noted more especially in her mode of crossing her shawl or mantle over her bosom. She displays, even in walking, an air of serene self-possession that brings before you the Madonnas of Raphael in their frames. Her altitude, at once dignified and composed, compels the most insolent 'dandy' to move out of her path. Her bonnet, of the simplest form, has the freshest ribands imaginable. Flowers, perhaps, or feathers? No! flowers invite too many gazers; and feathers demand a carriage. Beneath this head-dress, you find the fresh and tranquil face of a woman self-assured, yet not to fatuity; who looks at nothing, but sees everything; whose vanity, half-annihilated by repletion, has given to her expression a sort of indifference that piques one's curiosity. She knows that all eyes follow her; she knows that all, even of her own sex, will turn round to watch her steps. Thus she traverses Paris, a vestal shining in the purity —OF HER TACT."

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Knitting-needles, No. 18, and fine linen or crochet thread. Cast on 315 stitches, or 21 for each pattern, and knit one row plain.

1st Row.—Knit 2 together, then make 1 and knit 2 together 4 times, make 1, knit 1, then make 1, and knit 2 together 5 times, and repeat.

2d.—And all the back rows are purled.

3d Roid.—Knit 2 together, knit 3, then make 1 and knit 2 together twice, make 1, knit 3, then make 1 and knit 2 together twice, make 1, knit 3, knit 2 together, and repeat.

5/A Rou>.—Knit 2 together, knit 4, then make 1

and knit 2 together twice, make 1, knit 1, then make 1 and knit 2 together twice, make l,knit 4. knit 2 together, and repeat.

1th Row.—Knit 2 together, knit 3, then make 1 and knit 2 together twice, make 1, knit 3, then make 1 and knit 2 together twice, make 1, knit 3r knit 2 together, and repeat.

Oth Row.—Knit 2 together, knit 2, then make 1, and knit 2 together twice, make 1, knit 5, then make 1, and knit 2 together twice, make 1, kni» 2, knit 2 together, and repeat.

llth Row.—Knit 2 together, knit 1, then make1 and knit 2 together twice, make 1, knit 1, make

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