Some of you who have been pressing autumn leaves for winter use may like to hear of a new way of bleaching grasses to mix with them. The process is exceedingly simple. Take a few of the grasses in your hand at a time, dip them into a pan of water, shake gently, dip into a pan of sifted flour, and again shake gently. All the superfluous flour will fall off, but enough will remain to make the grasses snowy-white. When dry it is perfectly firm, and you would never guess what process produced the effect. A bunch of these white grasses in a coral-red basket is a vivid object. Colored grasses, to our thinking, are not half so pretty as the same grasses when left in their own soft natural browns and yellows. Still, as some people like them, we will just mention that the same process can be used for them as for the white grass, by mixing with small portions of flour, a little dry paint powder, vermilion, green, etc. A bunch of the deep red mixed with the bleached grass has a gay and uncommon effect. A NUBE IN TWO COLORS. A novelty in knitting is a nube in Shetland wool of two colors--pink or crimson or blue with white. The skeins are opened, and the two strands, laid side by side, are wound double in a large ball. The nube is then knit in the usual way with large needles and common garter-stitch, and is very fine. LAMP SHADES. Plain white porcelain lamp-shades, such as are used on the German student-lamps, look well when decorated with wreaths of autumn leaves put on with mucilage. We read lately in the _Tribune_ that leaves treated with extract of chlorophyl became transparent. This would be a fine experiment for some of you to try, and a garland of the transparent leaves would be much more beautiful around a shade than the ordinary dried ones. There are other styles of lamp-shades that can be made with little difficulty, for instance: A very pretty shade is easily formed by cutting in thin drawing-board fine scalloped sections, which, tied together with narrow ribbon, take the form of a shade. Leaves are glued to the under side of these, and a lining of thin tissue-paper is pasted on to hold them in place. Still another is made in the same way, with doubled sections of card-board, between each pair of which is laid a steel engraving or wood-cut, or an unmounted photograph. The pictures are invisible till the lamp is lighted: then they gleam forth with something of the soft glow of a porcelain transparency. A GLOVE-BOX. In any of the fancy shops you can now buy the slender frames of silvered tin on which these boxes are made. Cut out double pieces of pale-tinted silk to fit the top, bottom, sides and ends, and quilt each separately with an interlining of cotton batting, on which sachet-powder has been lightly sprinkled. Slip the pieces between the double rods of the frame, sew over and over, and finish with a plaited satin ribbon all round, adding a neat little loop and bow to lift the lid.