She

his eldest daughter, proudly-Miss Alice Blaine. is clad in pure white, unrelieved by color. A broadbrimmed chip hat on the back of her head frames her oval brunette face, and with her youth and grace she is a striking addition to the picture. Secretary Blaine looks troubled and worried. The shadows have grown darker under his eyes, while the other portions of his face are far more pallid than of yore. His step is less elastic, but the heat must be considered. The doors close and the curtain falls.

It should have been mentioned before that the officials who guard the front doors of the White House have the power to assign people to different rooms in the order which may seem to them best. Those whom they consider of most consequence are permitted to go up the stairs, whilst the "rabbles," so called from want of honorary prefixes to their names, must remain below. This is applicable to Cabinet day. When the fortunate arrive up stairs the winnowing process goes on again. The highest privilege is to be permitted to enter the room or headquarters of Mr. J. Stanley Brown, a youth of 22 summers, whose velvet cheeks, destitute of hirsute ornament or manly decoration, is sufficient evidence of his guileless innocence and his willingness to obey the will of others. Mr. Rose, who had been the President's private secretary for years when he was a Congressman, was found to have opinions of his own, and it did not suit those who have matters in hand to have that kind of material to manage.

Whilst Dr. Bliss has shown the country that he does not believe in having too many doctors around, Swaim and Rockwell are the men who keep guard at the chamber door of the President and will not permit a friendly face to pass. As proof the following fact is given to the readers of The Times: When Mrs. Garfield visited New York, before her late illness, she invited her warm personal friend, Miss Ransom, to accompany her. The two

intended to visit the art galleries together. Mrs. Garfield wished to have Miss Ransom's opinion on a picture of Alexander Hamilton that had lately been resurrected and come to light, after lying for many years among the rubbish. Mrs. Rockwell also went along. When the names of the august female Presidential party were made up to be given to the press Colonel Rockwell instructed the correspondent to leave out Miss Ransom's name, saying that "no names must be mentioned but Mrs. Garfield and Mrs. Rockwell." All the old trusted friends of the Garfields are thrust aside, whilst Swaim and Rockwell guard the doors. The isolation and cruelty towards the President is not the work of the doctors, for they are only intent on killing off each other, and if the country could be relieved of this surplus material the nation would have cause to rejoice.

But coming back to the White House, among those permitted to wait up stairs was the gallant Colonel Buell, who had come to Washington after an eighteen months' campaign in the field after the murdering Victoria and his savage band. He waited until the Cabinet meeting was over, and it was well on to 4 o'clock. "Better on an Indian trail in the wilderness than the trail of a President, if this is the experience," he said. Did President Garfield know that this brave, gallant soldier awaited audience at his door? The writer believes not. Did the soldier depart with his face crisped with disappointment? He did. Who saw the President? One woman of all the women who hung around like the lost souls around the gates of Paradise. This was Mrs. General Morgan L. Smith, the woman who began a suit in the New York courts for $25,000 damages for refusing to pay her for giving a decision of the Supreme Court in advance of its being known through the regular news channel. Mrs. Morgan Smith informed the writer that her interview with the President was perfectly satisfactory. The joy stamped on her beautiful face was suffi

cient proof. The soldier walked sad and dejected away, but from the window of the Executive Mansion a woman's eyes filled with tears followed his retreating footsteps; and from the holiest depths of her heart ascended the prayer that God would shield and protect him, and give his brave soul and strong arm the strength to protect the lone settlers from the murderous savages that infest our remote frontier. OLIVIA.

A NEW YEAR RECEPTION.

THE DIPLOMATS AND THE PUBLIC PAY THEIR RESPECTS TO PRESIDENT ARTHUR.

WASHINGTON, January 2, 1882.

According to immemorial usage, the broad doors of the Executive mansion opened their portals to receive the gorgeous pageant that inaugurates the President's first official reception of the New Year. Thoroughly renovated and partially refurnished, the old historic building appears like an antiquated belle rejuvenated by the modern accessories of the toilet. Oriental designs, artistically arranged, give the surroundings a magnificence never attained since a former White House mistress died. The Red Parlor, where the foreign legations assembled previous to their presentation to the President, has been recently furnished in modern style and with exquisite taste. From the lofty windows fall cascades of ruby velvet and real lace. The furniture is upholstered in ruby plush, and the prevailing tints of the Persian rugs, which cover a large proportion of the floor, have been chosen to harmonize with the ruby surroundings. Potted plants, but not in profusion, were used to ornament the tall mantels and pedestals purposely placed for their reception.

Another marked feature was the absence of the police until the immense unofficial crowd began to pour through the corridor. Then the necessity of keeping the living river within its proper bounds became apparent to the crowd itself, and good nature and kind words for the President were heard on every side.

A New Year's reception at the White House forms a picture on the mind never to be forgotten. Precisely

at the hour appointed the foreign legations began to assemble and in a brief time the Red Room was filled to overflowing with representatives of the different civilized nations of the globe. The gorgeous costumes worn by these people can only be compared to the plumage of birds which infest the tropical forests. The appearance of the English diplomat is among the most subdued.

The French minister, M. Maxime Outrey, appeared in the usual court dress which the French Republic has adopted. In the dim light its hue could not be detected except that it was very dark, with semi-military appearance. The pants were ornamented with a broad gilt band up the side, with a limited quantity of gilt embroidery. His chapeau, which he carried, looked like that worn by Napoleon I. Monsieur Outrey seemed particularly engaged in playing oak to the vine, for on his arm clung winsome Madame Outrey, clad in a long-trained black velvet dress. When the old minister was balancing his dignity before the red fez of Turkey, the madame, in the sweet language of her native land, had asked after all the seraglios on the banks of the Bosphorus. But the most charming face and figure which shone in the diplomatic throng belonged to Miss Sackville-West, the daughter of the new English minister. In the absence of her father she appeared with one of the attaches of the legation. Imagine a slight, girlish figure, yet perfect in development as a rose in full bloom, with a face cast in the most aristocratic mould, low brow, full, large, almond-shaped eyes, classic nose, the saucy, short upper lip and wonderfully chiseled chin, all animated by the highest grace of expression. If the haughty Victoria has ever looked upon this dainty subject she will not bear too heavily on the lineage of the Sackville-Wests. Miss West was clad in a heavy dark green satin walking dress, with a simple Fanchon bonnet to match, and amidst all the pomp and splendor her presence brought the same sweet emotions which come to mind with an English daisy.