The patterns already issued may always be obtained, as “The Lady Dressmaker” only issues patterns likely to be of constant use in home dressmaking and altering, and she is particularly careful to give all the new patterns of hygienic underclothing, both for children and young and old ladies, so that her readers may be aware of the best method of dressing. The following is a list of those already issued, price 1s. each. April—Braided, loose-fronted jacket. May—Velvet bodice. June—Swiss belt and full bodice, with plain sleeves. July—Mantle. August—Norfolk or pleated jacket. September—Housemaid’s or plain skirt. October—Combination garment (underlinen). November—Double-breasted out-of-door jacket. December—Zouave jacket and bodice. January—Princess underdress (underlinen, underbodice, and underskirt combined). February—Polonaise with waterfall back. March—New spring bodice. April—Divided skirt, and Bernhardt mantle with sling sleeves. May—Early English bodice and yoke bodice for summer dress. June—Dressing jacket, princess frock, and Normandy cap for a child of four years. July—Princess of Wales’ jacket-bodice and waistcoat, for tailor-made gown. August—Bodice with guimpe. September—Mantle with stole ends and hood. October—“Pyjama,” or nightdress combination, with full back.—November—New winter bodice. [Illustration] THE BUILDERS OF THE BRIDGE. BY MRS. G. LINNÆUS BANKS, Author of “God’s Providence House,” “The Manchester Man,” “More than Coronets,” etc. CHAPTER II. “But, Muse, return at last; attend the princely Trent, Who, straining on in state, the north’s imperious flood, The third of England called, with many a dainty wood Being crowned, to Burton comes, to Needwood, where she shows Herself in all her pomp, and as from thence she flows She takes into her train rich Dove and Darwin[4] clear— Darwin, whose font and fall are both in Derbyshire, And of whose thirty floods that wait the Trent upon, Doth stand without compare, the very paragon.” So began England’s descriptive poet, Michael Drayton, to sing the praises of the glorious Trent in his “Polyolbion;” but Milton was more terse in his invocation— “Rivers, arise! whether thou be the son Of utmost Tweed, or Ouse, or gulfy Don, Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, spreads His thirty arms along the indented meads.” Thus much the poets; but in plain prose be it told that the Trent needed no invocation to “arise.” It had, and has, a tendency to arise and flood the meadows in its course most disastrously, as it did no later than last May. The many arches of its bridges tell the tale.