If it should prove to be a fine autumn and winter, I hear it prophesied on all sides that red will be more worn than even during last winter: indeed, that all bright hues will be in favour. My last few lines must be devoted to the question of “hats in church,” which seems just now a burning question in America. I read an account lately, in an American journal, of the movement in a part of the Methodist body to do away with the wearing of large hats in church, where their use is even more objectionable than elsewhere in any place where people gather together in numbers. It is said by the advocates of the change that it is not contrary to Scripture, for at the time when St. Paul wrote, the women were in a state of servitude and more or less seclusion, and they are not so now. It seems probable that the movement will spread throughout America. You will find that at many public meetings there, and even here during the Congress, many women took their hats off while the meetings were going on. HOUSEHOLD HINTS. THE register of a bedroom fireplace should never be closed, but left open for free ventilation from above. FIRE-IRONS and fenders not in use in the summer should not be neglected, but kept constantly rubbed up and not allowed to rust. PARSLEY is injurious to fowls, and should not be given to them. THREE GIRL-CHUMS, AND THEIR LIFE IN LONDON ROOMS. BY FLORENCE SOPHIE DAVSON. CHAPTER VIII. THE WATER-PARTY. “How did you enjoy yourself last evening, Marion?” asked Ada, on the morning after Marion had paid her promised visit to Mrs. Holden. “Very much indeed.” “Was it a regular dinner-party?” “Oh, no, only just ourselves, you know—and Mr. Scott!” Jane looked very wise. “Madge made a delightful suggestion,” went on Marion quickly. “How should you like a water-party, Jenny?” “The most delightful thing for this fine weather, but who would row?” “Mr. Holden and Mr. Scott are both thoroughly accustomed to it.” “Jenny and I can take turns,” said Ada; “we have always been accustomed to it, but you never went in for it, did you?” “No, I can only steer,” said Marion, laughing. “I told Madge that we would bring half the lunch and half the crockery. We can get tea at a cottage that they know of.” “But you have not told us yet where we are going,” said Jane. “Oh, I forgot. Madge and her party will meet us at West End Lane Station, and we will take the 9.20 train to Richmond; catch the one that goes on to Twickenham, row to Teddington, land on the bank and have lunch, and have tea at the cottage I spoke of.” “Just the very thing to brush the cobwebs out of our brains,” cried Ada enthusiastically, “is it not, Jenny? We all want a treat, and we are all rather fagged out. Is it to be this next Saturday?” “Yes, if we can arrange it in time.” “Well, there is very little to arrange, when one comes to think of it,” said Ada meditatively, “unless Mrs. Holden thinks of inviting a big party.” “No, just themselves and ourselves.”