The whole of the forms were produced in outline, and to show the sort of stitch, I have given a leaf full size. The ground is soon covered in this way, and it hasn’t a cheap look either. The fault many embroiderers make in carrying out a design is that they miss the “swing” of the lines, get broken-backed curves and clumsy-looking details. To obviate this you ought to keep looking at your work as a whole. Dwelling too long on any part of the design is likely to upset the balance of the whole. [Illustration] It is obvious that in the design given the stems are the first features to be worked, as the leaves and flowers merely grow from them and are of secondary importance. It will add to the grace of the design to get the lower part of the stems gradually thicker, say two strands wide towards the base, just as in nature we find a plant gradually thickening as it nears the root. It will be noticed that a separate border is designed for the piece at the top which turns over. The coverlid should have a worked edging, and to get this even a few niches should be spaced out and drawn on a piece of tracing paper and then pricked over with a coarse needle. All you have to do is to rub a little crushed charcoal, tied up in a piece of coarse linen or muslin, on the reverse side, when the powdered charcoal will pass through the holes leaving an impression which can be worked over at once. Where a border is distinctly geometrical, it should be done evenly, and the eye is not quite correct enough if left to itself, and much of the workmanlike look of the whole would be marred if this edging were badly done. The right initial or name can be added or left out if desired. In the latter case put in a flower and a leaf or two. Those readers who have never worked on house flannel will find it a pleasant material, and for portières and short curtains very excellent both in effect and for wear. A DREAM OF FAIR SERVICE. BY C. A. MACIRONE. CHAPTER I. DOMESTIC SERVICE. Sitting in a cool green shade of trees and flowers, in the still heat of a summer afternoon, I read in your most interesting paper, dear Mr. Editor, a record of noble women who, from the slippery places of wealth and ease, had sprung a mine of happiness in lightening the burdens, and in sympathies for the sorrows, of many who had no helper. I read and enthusiastically admired, and while admiring tried to appreciate the difficulty which women so placed would find in realising sufferings of which they could know so little by experience--of some troubles they could absolutely know nothing--the want of bread, the deadly fatigue of overwork, the misery of children crying for food, the bitterness of bare poverty, of homes which do not shelter, of empty fireplaces in cold, and shadowless rooms in the heat--and in such heat as we have been taught lately can be suffered even in this dear England of ours.