butterfly with a few strokes of the brush; the whole is then cut out, and a drop of mucilage will hold the body fast to a card, while the wings are slightly raised, as if the insect were about to take flight.
They are then ready to be placed on exhibition, and votes are taken as to which is deserving of the prize.
The artist's name should be on the back of each card—unknown until the votes have been taken.
An appropriate prize might be a large paper butterfly, made to screen the eyes from the too direct glare of gas or lamp, or a pen-wiper in the form of a butterfly. A fan, upon which numbers of butterflies are seen disporting themselves, is a favourite design on inexpensive Japanese fans, or home talent may be equal to turning a small white or yellow folding fan of paper into the semblance of a sober-hued butterfly by tracing the nervures with lines done in sepia—either of which would make a good prize. More acceptable still might be one of the pretty gauzy-winged butterflies of white or black "mousseline de soie," studded with silver spangles and tiny Rhinestones, made to be worn in the hair.
AN EASTER FETE
We had been reading of old-time festivals in England and learned of the joyous celebration of Easter among our Saxon forefathers.
The modern demon of restless activity had not yet gotten possession of the world, and people had leisure to rejoice together for eight consecutive days at Eastertide. "Joy was duty, and love was law."
Fired by the description of such a golden age, it was proposed to give an Easter f6te, and all agreed that the idea would find pleasantest as well as most reverent expression in a family party—when old and young