tering beaming smiles impartially on the spectators as they passed along the sunny path.

Upon their heels came a noisy, disorderly mob of men and women, roaring forth the "Marseillaise." Each wore the revolutionary "bonnet rouge" and a tricolour cockade, and was made to look as disreputable as disorderly garment, unkempt hair, and red paint could make him. A barrel was rolled forward, upon which a young woman was helped to mount and shouted an incendiary speech amid the tumultuous applause of her companions, whereupon they resumed their march and

song.

Next came a procession of white-robed nuns, who chanted a selection from the church music of the fifteenth century.

A band of picturesquely attired gypsies sang to the accompaniment of tambourines, much beribboned, a song of Romany.

One of the most successful effects was the "Christmas Carol" represented by the daughter of the hostess, a beautiful girl, whose white dress covered with micadust suggested the glisten and purity of snow. Her hair was wreathed with holly, and among sprays of its leaves upon her shoulders were perched some little snowbirds. She held in her hands a music-book of the old-time shape, that permitted long, unbroken lines on the page, -and sang a quaint carol that was popular in Shakespeare's time.

Tyrolese peasants sang their jodel choruses, and all were much delighted when a Scotchman in full native costume-imported from a neighbouring city for the occasion-played many of the songs of his native land, contriving to coax real music from his curious instrument. All were feasted by the generous hospitality of the

hostess, and went home to talk and dream of the lovely scene for many a day-one old lady remarking that she felt as though she had travelled by music to "furren parts."

CHAPTER XX

July

A "FOURTH OF JULY" TEA

N nearly every happy household in the country, the holiday spirit is rife as we approach the "glorious

IN

Fourth," and doors stand hospitably open in welcome to friends and neighbours, as though a common subject for congratulation had made all the world akin.

If Thanksgiving Day is specially set apart for family reunions, the time-honoured traditions of the Fourth of July exact a generous hospitality toward the unfortunate dwellers in cities, the lone bachelors, or other homeless wanderers (?), and after a day spent in noisily demonstrating our sense of independence, it may be fitly closed by an old-fashioned "tea party," adhering to colonial traditions.

An actual experience is always more interesting than a supposititious one, and a few suggestions which are perfectly practicable may not be unwelcome.

If one be more anxious to give pleasure than to discharge social debts, I should advise choosing one's guests from among city friends-belated tourists who have been disappointed, or who have not yet succeeded in finding summer quarters to their liking, professional men whose time is at every one's disposal but their own. These, with a sprinkling of pleasant neighbours, will appreciate

the simple festival, as only they can to whom country life is something of a novelty.

Let the dining-room be decorated with red, white and blue bunting or cheese-cloth, which, bunched at the top of the chandelier in the middle of the room, caught and tacked to the picture-moulding, and then allowed to hang to the floor, makes a pretty tent-like effect and gives a gala appearance to the surroundings. Hanging from the centre of the chandelier-unlighted-a Liberty Bell of red immortelles, with the historical crack in evidence, would be appropriate, and round about it ballshaped Japanese lanterns glowing like jewels, alternately of the three national colours. These, with white candles shaded by red silk poppies and held in blue bobèches, would give all the light required.

The table should be a glory of colour-in the centre a mass of poppies and bluets, which are procurable in July, their colours prettily harmonised by the common daisies of the field. These also add lightness and grace standing upright on their sturdy stems above the other blossoms. Or red and white carnations, verbenas, or geraniums, with the deep-blue larkspur, are effective in combination, and are in season at the time of the nation's birthday.

The name-cards may be fac-similes of the flag on one side.

If one be the fortunate possessor of any of the old blueand-white china of our grandmothers' time, relegated to the kitchen during our mothers' ascendency, and afterward brought forth in pride and held in honour when fashion decreed that it was "aristocratic" to have family heirlooms, this is the time to use it.

One blue dish may be heaped high with clusters of red and white currants. another with white and red rasp

berries, while a third may hold a large ring of tomato jelly enclosing a romaine salad, well covered with a white mayonnaise dressing. The bonbons may be wrapped separately in white tissue paper to represent torpedoes, and the cakes made in the shape of fivepointed stars with white icing, thirteen of which laid on a blue-laced paper background will recall the starry portion of our flag.

Each lady may find at her place a folding fan of the kind that, when closed, is concealed in its handle.

A piece of scarlet paper glued around this handle and a bit of a hempen string substituted for the usual little tassel make a very fair representation of a fire-cracker. At the men's places, little boxes, also made to resemble fire-crackers (to be bought at any confectioner's), may each contain a choice cigar.

The cigar may be wrapped about with a slip of paper and a similar paper be concealed in the handle of each lady's fan, upon which may be written some bit of information of national interest or a good story of American life, wit, or manners. After each guest has read aloud the selection that falls to his or her lot, the conversation will probably have received an impetus in the direction of patriotic subjects.

As for the menu, the red, white, and blue may be preserved throughout.

Tomato bouillon in blue-and-white cups, creamed codfish garnished with pickled beets, and broiled chickens with the tomato jelly and romaine salad or tomatoes whole with white mayonnaise as an accompaniment—the blue of the china adding the third colour. In July, ice-cream is the most acceptable sweet course before the fruit. I am assured that a cupful of canned blueberry juice, added to vanilla ice-cream, will give the