I MY BID Mills. '
H -LOUD TALK AND EXECRABLE
H
FRENCH AT THE WHITE HOUSE.
H 'Who Are Seen at the Swell Receptions
M The Absurdities of Modern Etiquette.
H * Movements of
* Washington ,
m Women.
H There aro more bad manners dia-
M flayed in the great east room at the
H -white house , on reception days , than
m anywhere else in the alleged world of
society. Ladies try to talk French ,
H Spanish or German , and carry on con-
1 -versalions in the presenco of their
H friends whom they know to be unable
H to understand either of those lan-
H uages. A few years ago one of these
H iresh young misses undertook to con-
H verso in Fronch with the wife of the
Bussian minister. That lady , albeit a
H .magnificent French scholar , replied
H wholly in very badly pronounced Eng-
lish. Finally the young lady said , in
French : "Countess , why do you use
H English when French is so much easier
for you ? " The well-bred lady replied :
H "I am under the roof of the president
H of the United Statos. His language is
H English , and while I am his guest , that
shall bo my language. " It was a
polite , dignified , but pointed rebuke.
H .It was effective
Mrs. Browning once said : "I would
H rather write on almost any subject
other than tho etiquette of my country-
H women. " Tho reason was that tho
H faults aro so many , so glaring , so out
of character that it hurts one , touches
H one's pride of country to be obliged to
H tell the truth about them in all particu-
H tars. Thoy talk too loud and too much.
.At tho public reception of a lady mem-
H berof tho family of a cabinet officer
H last Wednesday one of tho ladies as-
sisting her was a bright and really
H beautiful young girl from the west.
H Sho is educated , cultured , and , thoy
-sav , "iin ' shed" girl from Vassar. Her
H western home believes in her , and they
say that she "sets tho style" for her
set. That may be , but she doesn't
.make patterns for any one in good so-
ciety here. When she laughs the back
of her head flies back , her mouth opens
H and thero comes forth a soupd which
H oever ought to bo heard outside of her
I father's barn. Sho is always laughing ,
too. If she would learn to stand
quietly , smile only when greatly
H pleased , and only smile , sho would be
.really charming. Her lips are as lus-
H cious and rosy as blood ripe cherries.
I .Her teeth are like double rows of
pearls. Ht-r tongue , at the point , is
just thick enough to make her lisp
' beautifully , and the redness of it is
H charmingly attractive. But , after her
H manner , she throws away her greatest
H and easiest charm , by tomboy boister-
H -ourness. Sho is not too young to know
better , either , although yet in her
teens. This , too , is a cultured lady.
She is not a sketch , but an actual live
H girl of the period.
One of the absurd things of society
which amazes rural visitors is the
-method of official calling in this city.
H Senators and other officials , of all
I grades , send their cards by messengers
to all within their calling circlo of ac-
-quaintances. Cards are returned
H every week or two , and thus the offi-
cials "make believe" that they have
B called upon each other. There was a
"bluff old commodore , stationed here a
H fow yeai's ago , who had been on sea
I duty for a long time and his society :
I . manners were very strongly impreg- !
nated with the vocabulary of the quar-
ter deck. One day he received a card
I .froni a young lieutenant of the army ,
I with the letters "E. P. " penciled in the
I corner. He met the young man a few
days later , acknowledged tho receipt
of his card and asked what "E. P. "
meant. The society man informed
I him that it meant "in person ; " that is ,
that he , the lieutenant , had called in
I person. The old man smiled grimly and
I concluded to have a joke on his friend , [
I so he sent a colored man down to his
I quarters at tho arsenal , bearing the
I card of the commodore with "S. B. N. "
I penciled in the corner. That was too
I jmuch for the army man to compre-
"hend , so ho called "in person" to ask
I -what was meant by it , and the commo-
I dore roared out at him : "S. B. N.
means 'sent by a nigger , ' ha , ha , ha. "
I . .For truth's sake the officials of this city
might as well write "S. B. Non their
I cards , for nearly all of them are sent
I by colored servants. Mr. Rusticus
I looks upon this kind of calling as most
I stupidly useless.
f BAJ > MANNERS IN THE WHITE HOUSE.
I The wifo of Secretary Whitney
J * "brought a novel mode of calling into
| r "voguo which astonished the social pop-
" mlation of Washington. She employed
a lady to represent her in the social
s "world , except to her immediate friends.
, . All people call on lady members of the
families of cabinet officials here. No
"matter whether you know them or not ,
I you can call on Wednesdays , be intro-
p iluced , shake hands with the wife of
& the cabinet minister , and leave your
I card in the basket. The unfortunate
wife of a man whose official position
! u " brings this task upon her is supposed
EL 'to recognize these calls , and to return
is * them. It used to be a great bore , but
f IMrs. "Whitney made an easy thing of
g it. She employed a bright , intelligent ,
fe -ambitious wage worker of her own
* sex , and turned over to her all cards
ST of unknown callers. The young lady
fe 3nadc a tabulated list of them , by
g streets , filled her hand satchel with
% , visiting cards of Mrs. Whitney , entered
p- . the phaeton and drove from house to
f& house , sending in a card at each stop
fer ping place. The ladies thus honored
& . - /imagined that it was Mrs. Whitney in
, person who thus returned their calls.
| P-- -and they were exceedingly proud of it.
fg rSome of the poor things went so far as
P to tell their friends that "Mrs. Whit-
§ ; , Tiey called , entered the parlor , was
grl. , • dressed so and so and said so and so. "
fe" " But they don't tell the story any more ,
mi for every bodv knows , you know , that
fife , " it is fiction. Mrs. Whitney still retains'
Eg her valuable assistant , and intends to
K. - keep her after leaving Washington ,
| * " _ _ . because , as she says : "The young lady
K * . " has made herself indispensable in many
and has a delight
- other ways proven
. '
t&t • &
s' • ' / ful companion , a sort of private secre-
IjT ? J'v ? Aary , as itwere. " Happy thought ! here
t. *
*
-
*
mmmmmmmm * a mmKmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
it a now vocation for women. Why
not cducato \ oungladios to mako ilhem-
folves generally useful ? Let them
learn to dance , sing , write shorthand ,
use typewriters , study etiquette by cily
seryation , unit ate lordly women , asim-
ilato with them , aud grow into their
hearts and pocket-books.
Mrs. Loland Stanford , who is a prime
mover in Washington society , made
some very notable Christmas presents
to her intimate friends. One of them
was an elegant borrv sot of silver , or
namented with California scenery.
Sho never forgets her son who died in
Rome some years ago , and her heart
is full of plans to please boys. At
chrjstmas time sho , spent $1000 In
'books alone ior struggling students in
colleges. To the pretty daughter of a
friend in the wild mountains of Nevr
Mexico she sent a piano and to the
boys two of her own finest ponies , "for , "
she wrote their mother , "they looked
delicate and galloping over that coun
try in tho saddle will make them
strong. "
S. B. N. ( SENT BT A NIGGElt ) .
Mrs. Stanford dresses elaborately ,
but sho is one of tho most democratlo
women in Washington society. Her
charities are , as .they say , "numerous
and costly. " I have heard that she
gives away about $20,000 a year in try
ing to make her less favored friends
more happy and comfortable.
To one of our society ladies on Cap
itol hill , whoso dining-room , with its
large open wood fireplace , is the most
inviting home room we have overseen ,
Santa Glaus brought all the way from
France a fire screen of repousse work
in brass , inlaid with jeweled glass and
antique gems. Tho glowing coals give
a splendor and color beyon 1 descrip
tion. Stones of deep red , like glowing
carbuncles , are set in the frame , and a
palo yellow band ornaments the whole.
To another friend , whoso high-step
ping grays have a red brick mansion ,
all their own , not many feet from the
"porte cochere" of their master's home ,
was sent a large lantern , octagonal in
form , with the dial of a clock on one
side or panel , tho rest being filled with
this same jeweled glass.
Mrs. Cleveland is said to have liter
ary aspirations. It is understood that
sho has promised Mr. Gilder that she
will write some sketches for the Cen
tury as soon as she has retired to pri
vate life. Mr. Cleveland was very
much annoyed by his sister's literary
enterprises during her reign at the
whito house , and he would not , of
course , permit any such breach of dip
lomacy on the part of his wife But
she is a splendid little woman anyway.
David Wechsleu.
He Wanted to Apologiza.
"Can I speak to you a moment ? " he
said softly as he called the chief clerk
in the post-office to the window the
other day.
"Certainly. "
"Thanks. I didn't know but that
you were busy. Two months ago I
came here and asked for a letter. Re
member it ? "
"I do not. "
"Probably not , as you are always
busy. I didn't get any. I gave it as
my opinion that some of you had stolen
it. Remember ? "
"No. "
"Probably not , but I spoke very em-
Jhatically. That was my opinion , and
went away feeling very much hurt.
Remember ? "
"Probably not , as I am of no great
consequence. I now desire to ask your
pardon. Will you forgive me ? "
"Of course. "
"Thanks. I believed you would. You
see , I expected a letter from my aunt.
None came. Sho couldn't write one.
She was dead. See ? Therefore , how
could I get one ? I take it back. I
apologize. I was wrong. Shake. "
"That's all right. "
"Thanks. I'll never do it again.
This is an honest post-office. I was
wrong. Good-by. "
A Dignified Visitor.
Among the many visitors who were
in Boston during "Merchants' Week"
was a gentleman from northern New
Hampshire , who came with his wife
and child and stayed at one of the large
hotels. The small boy had never be
fore seen an elevator , and was greatly
impressed with this contrivance for
getting to the top of the building.
After they had been in town a day or
two they were invited by a Boston
merchant to his home. The small boy
seemed pleased with the novelty of the
change , until he was invited by a child
of the house to go upstair to the nur
sery. i Then he drew back , remarking
with dignity :
"I am willing to walk downstairs ,
but I am used to having an alleviator
to go up with. "
And no amount of persuasion could
induce him to consider that house a
proper place to stay since it had no
"alleviator. " Boston Courier.
The Hunting Season.
Pa , I want you to buy me a gun for
mv birthday.
My son , it is not safe for you to have
a gun.
Pa , don't you know that a boy of my
size can shoot a gun ?
Yes , I know that a boy of your size
can shoot a gun , but I also am aware
that , by a strange coincidence , a gun
can shoot a boy of about your size.
A Risky Proceeding.
Jinks Have you read about the pro
ceedings of these Chicago anarchists ?
Spilkins Yes ; it is an outrage to
ahow them to insult the American flag.
They should be set down as dangerous
firehrands.
Jinks They should be suppressed ,
of course , but if they are firebrands it
is hardly safe to sit down on them.
Doing Up Things.
Justice Policeman Tuff , why did
you club this man so severely ?
Office Tuff TEat things-there , gave > .
me 8assSand resisted aTrest your " •
Honor , so I just did him up.
You have exceeded your authority so
often that 1 think you had better re
sign from the force and get a position
as a clerk in a grocery , where your
for "doing up things" will
Eropensity
e appreciated.
LOVE AND MONEY.
BY HOSE TEimi'COOKE.
Clementine Konfc was a very pretty
girl , and as sentimental 03 she was
pretty. Her pale oval face , with
plastic features that looked as if
Borao easy hand had molded their
fluent curves from a soft pallid clay
that never hardened her yellow gray
eyes and deep brown lashes , her full
lips , low forehead , and delicate brows
all seemed surcharged with a sort
of vague pathos that was very effec
tive ; an abundance of light brown
hair , waving and silken , and beauti
ful teeth , half disclosed by the lan
guid mouth , added also to the charms
of a slight and graceful figure.
She was one of those girls
who suggest a vine always ; not a
sturdy grape laden with bacchant
bunches , or a classical evergreen ivy ;
but rather a morning glory , adorned
with pink blooms flowers of an hour ,
that fade when the hot sun strikes
them , and close , forever under twi
light shadows.
Her romantic name fitted her very
well ; and nobody ever thought ot
shortening it into robust "Clem , " or
familiar " " if the
"Clemray ; syllables
were too long for anjT lazy tongue , it
degenerated at once into "Tina. "
At school she always had at least
eleven bosom friends , who were hor
ribly jealous of each other , as each in
turn happened to be the confident of
the day. There were girls who called
Clementine a fool , and treated her
with judicious scorn ; but they were
mistaken Clementine was not a fool
at all ; she had the ordinary sense of
girls of her age ; not common sense ,
which is the rarest of all possessions
and beyond genius , but an average
share of understanding. To be sure ,
she wrote poetry reams of it and
very poor poetry at that , though be
ing smooth , melodious and harm-
less , it was greatly admired by the
readers of the Canterbury Journal ,
and her candid schoolmates. But if
she did write poetry she learned her
lessons fairly well , and was quite a
proficient in French. To be sure ,
Monsieur JJourdaloue was desperate-
ly enamored of Tina , and gave more
than the prescribed hour's teaching
to the class in which she belonged a
class of two which may account lor
her progress.
The worst thing about Clementine
was her tearful tendency : not a day
passed that she did not cry , and cry
fluently ; good honest showers of crys-
tal tears that soaked her handker-
chief and washed her soft pale cheeks
like a spring rain.
Nobody ever knew what she cried
for ; she said herself she cried because
she couldn't help it. Nora Jones , one
of the strong-minded girls who called
her silly , said she was crying for the
moon ; certainly there was no other
\ known reason for tears. She had a
good home , a very loving father and
mother , one sunny saucy sister , as
unlike her as possible , yet who re
garded Tina with a deep reverence ,
and said the editor of the Canterbury
Journal had been heard to call Cleml
entino "a child of genius , " and she
guessed she Avas. After a great while ,
Tina , in a moment of confidence ,
owned to her chief dearest friend that
life was a burden , love a vain dream ,
a delusive fiction , and she herself
thould certainly die young , consumed
by inward fires ; to confirm which sen
timents she quoted Mrs. Hemans , '
Byron , L. E. L. , and M. F. Tupper
with great fluency , and convincing
aptness , and seared poor Molly
Hayes out of a night's rest by asking
her if she should return from the
spirit-land to tell her of its heavenly
joys. j
Molly did not like ghosts , and pro-
tested vehemently , but she need not *
have been frightened , for Tina did not \
die at all , though she ate enough
pickles , candy and loaf-cake to hasten .
her end if she had been naturally a
wholesome , hearty creature. i
No , this morbid sort of a girl does
not die young ; she grows up into a
weedy , useless woman , and for all '
practical purposes might as well be
kept in a cellar with other sprouts of
more useful vegetables.
Clementine finished her school-days
in her usual health , graduated with t
some honorlookingextremely pretty j
in white muslin and blue satin rib-
bons , with her hair in longloosering-
lets falling about her shoulders , and I
one white rosebud caught in the shin- j
ing meshes above her little ear. In
this cheap and lovely costume she
sung a pretty little song of long ago ,
"Love not , " with such tremulous
pathos that the audience almost cried ,
and seven college students at the ex
treme end of the hall felt very queer i
under their waistcoats. Then Tina ]
came out into society. Not that '
there was much society in Canterbury ,
but whatever mild dissipation that
town afforded she shared in. Her
father was well to do , and Tina was
always nicely dressed. She had good '
taste , and affected soft clinging fab- ;
rics , sometimes of delicate tints , but
never neutrals. The instinct of a
woman of her sort is apt to be correct '
in such matters , and she felt that
drabs and grays and dull browns did
not suit her : warm yet light rose ; |
turquoise blue , apple greet a tint
unknown to those abominable aniline
colors that have so cruelly superseded
the old artistic dyes all these , reliev
ed against fleecy white , or sometimes
a whole attire of softest lilac , made
her look like "a eentle flower. " as one
youthful adorer declared in the burn
ing words of a valentine. Nor did she
show less fair , when winter came ,
in robes of deepest crimson ,
emerald green , or gentian blue ; purple
-and yellow were not for ; her , wbut shev
Hlooked.her Iqveliesfrin a hat of black/ ,
velvet with tossing plumes , under
which her fairness of skin and glitter
ing hair shone resplendent. Theoreti
cally it may be singular , but practi
cally it is most common , that a
woman of Clementine's clinging ,
sighing , helpless , beautiful type
should be attractive beyond all oth-
ers to the opposite sex , but oven in
nature was there ever a wild bindweed
that did not And a hundred supports
on which to hang and trail its sculp
tured leaves and profuse dawn-tinted
chalices ? Clementine abounded in lov
ers ; the college in Canterbury afford
ed dozens of enamored boys to write
poetry about her in the local paper ,
send her bouquets , take her out to
concerts , to boating parties , to pic
nics , and even to evening meetings ,
though this latter diverson wag
more affected by the drygoods clerks ,
four of whom she counted among her
victims.
But with all this it must be owned ,
to Clementine's credit , sho was not
vain or arrogant : her head was too
much in tbs clouds for these things
to turn it. Sho had long resolved
that love alone should compel her to
marry ; reason was a cold and sordid
guide , and perish tho thought ol
money ! It takes years and pain and
tho pangs of poverty to teach a
woman of this sort that money is at
least a good thing to have in the
house , and no more to be despised
than any other means of comfort
and health. Tina never paused to
consider how hopeless and helpless
she would be without her father's
liberal hand and goodly purse , and
being to a certain extent vitally
right and honest in her theory , she
carried it to stern heights , and made
it dominant in her dreams , intending
with all her simple soul to marry
only the man she should love sud
denly and unmistakably , and hop
ing almost to prayer that the com
ing god might be some impecunious
poet , or a great politican , poor be
cause of his incorruptible honest3' !
Poor Tina ! as if poets and politicans
both were not the most undesirable
of their sex as husbands ! or as if she
were fitted to fill the heart or light
the hearth of any poor man she ,
who know no more how to broil a
steak , boil a potato , or make a loal
of bread than to circulate the orbit
of a comet or square the circle !
But , as time went on , Tina found ,
to her own disgust , that she did not
fall in love with any body. Not one
youth ; from the studious crowd nor
one from behind any counter really
stirred ' her sleep ing heart. She want
ed dreadfully to fall in love , butthere
seemed , always to be some obstacle
on i the edge of that pleasant precipice.
One ' youth smoked ; sho could not
; abide that. Another wore a plaid
velvet vest ugh ! Still another had
red hair and weak eyes ; of course he
was insufferable. But time would
fail ; me to recount tho failings o'
these young men. Few of them ar
rived ] so far as to offer themselves , for
as soon as the "object" perceived
they 1 were really , to use their own
phrase ] , "spooney" about her , she
was filled with unconcealable dis-
gustfor the poorcreatures , and , with
the . charming frankness of a dream
ing ] girl , took no pains whatever to
conceal * it. Men are not always blind ,
even ' in love , and the perceptive share
of ' Tina's lovers slid back quietly in
to , their own places. A few ofthe ob-
tuser sort went "on to glory or the
grave \ , " and were received with open
astonishment , and rejected with
equally open indifference. Some
times sho shod a few tears when a
young man became very wretched ,
and tore his hair a little , or hinted
darkly ' at suicide ; sometimes she re
proached herself in her secret heart
for | blighting so many young * and ar-
dent ( natures ; but , on tho whole , she
was tolerably comfortable about it ,
as . she ought to have been , for even
the most dejeoted adorer never
drowned himself or plunged into
reckless dissipation on her account ,
and \ some were actually known in
after years to speak of her as "that
pretty J little goose I used to know at
Canterbury. " Men are so perfidious !
It was Clementine's custom every
year . to make a visit to her grand-
father Hyde in Coventry. She geni
orally chose the season of collegeva
cation in summer to do this duty , as
J
Canterbury : was really dull then , and
Coventry as pleasant as could be.
Grandfather . Hyde ' s great old-fash-
ioned house was spotless and speck-
less . all the year , but it might be cold
in winter ; in July and August it was
cool and sweetand airy , AuntNabby ,
Squire Hyde's sister , was a mighty
housekeeper ; and when you had eaten
her bread and butter and cottage
cheese and sponge cake , you might
laugh at Soyer and Tide and Blot ,
and | smile with scorn at the rapier-
skewered shadow of Yatel , who died
for want of a turbot. He would have
died ! of envy had he tasted Aunt Nabj
by's chicken pot-pie. To make the
dainty bits of fowl so savory , the
gravy so rich and ticklesome to tho
palate , the crust so light , so golden
brown , so flaky and unsodden , all in
the ' homely circumference of an iron
pot. this required genius. Nobody
in Coventry could make such pot-
pie. Clementine did not want to ;
well ] as she liked it , no emulative fury
was kindled in her breast. She en
.
joyed ' her food unusually at grand
pa's , but she laid it to the air of the i
hills ; thisdisgusted Aunt Nabby , for
sho was prouder of her cook
ing than a poet of his rhymes ,
and knew very well that
Coventry , was scarce two hundred feet
higher . above sea level than Canter
bury itself , though the latter lay in.a i
rich alluvial valley , and Coventry on
a sandy plain. But , withal , Aunt
Nabby loved the pretty , pale girl in
her own eurt and abrupt fashion.
She ' ; fed her with all sorts of dainty
cakes , and let her lie in bed moraing-
aslong as she liked , though with
much ; grumblingand growling below
stairs about the degeneracy of mod
ern women.
Coventry was a very little town.
Its single wide street had on either
side large old-fashioned houses that
had descended from generation to
generation ; and being built when la
bor and timber were cheap and build
ers honest , thegoodly beams endured
well , and the hereditary owners took
a certain pride in keeping them in re
pair.
There were old people in most ol
them now , The youthful flocks were
scat eredIto. otherpas\dres-rthegirs ?
married abroad , the young men pur
suing their own ends in the distant
West or the great cities. Yet every
year the children some of them re
turned to the nest. The windows of
dark spare rooms were opened wide
to the sun and air , ths parlorrevive- '
• i
\
'
a
>
\
ed its hospitalities , the chickens and
the kittens fled from before the faces
of trooping and screaming children :
grandsires and grandames kitrlled
up now life in their domain , lit fhwli
lamps , aired countless stores of linen
wrangled with butchers and grocers ,
in order to preparo forthe"loys and
girls , " and sleepy old Coventry seem
ed to rouse itself from a long nap to
welcomo its returning hosts. There
was Squire Wylde , the richestman in
the county ; Parson Chamberlain , *
the minister of fifty years' standing ;
Judge Ellet , the only widower on the
street , whose house flourished under
the rule of a maiden daughter ; Mr.
Peace , Lawyer Cotton of mighty de
scent , whose family treo was as big
as a Sequoia gigantica and hung in
his front hall for all man to see ; Dr.
Drake , whose yellow gig had trun
dled in and about Coventry beyond
the memory of any inhabitant all
these had 'summer' company during
Tina 's annual visit , and the rural
gayeties ofthe place were as inces
sant as the weather would allow.
This particular year which we have
to chronicle , Coventry was fuller of
guests than usual. Even NedAVylde ,
tho squiro's only son and heir , who
had been abroad as agent for agreat
wholesale firm in New York every
summer for man3' years , and amass
ed much money thereby , but never
taken to himself a wife as yet even
this delightful being was coming
home this year.
"It does beat all , " exclaimed Aunt'
Nabby , "to think Eddard Wylde is
coming back. 1 haven 't set my eyes
on him , really , except what .you may
call a peek when he'd spend Thanks-
givin' here , for several years. " j
"Tho squire is pleased enough , "
said Grandpa Hyde ; "he's stopping
all the folks in town to tell about it.
Seems as if he was a good deal broke
of late years. I'm glad Eddard's
coming. I wish he could bring his
mind to settle down here while the
the old man stays ; 'twould be such a j
comfort. He's all the child there is ,
and Miss Wylde isn't very rugged
either. "
"Folks ain't very apt to be rugged ,
come to her time of life , when they ' ve
always been peepin' and pinin' , "
curtly rejoined Aunt Nabby. "But
it ain't likely a young man like Ed
dard will settle down in old Coventry )
if his folks do want him. "
"Then he can't be very good , Aunt
Nabby. " said Clementine , with unus
ual vigor. "I should despise a man [ I 1
who thought more of money than
his old parents. " t
'For mercy's sakes ! what has set
you off , Tiny ? Men ain 't made after
that pattern. They've got to work ,
and they like to do it , I tell ye. It'
the order of natur' that old folks-
should lie by when they ' re useless , and
young folks should go into the heat
an'burden of the day. " | I
"But I thought he had enough
monej\v j
'Enough money ! ' * screamed Aunt
Nabb3 * , with keen derision ; "enough
money ! When you see a young feller
not thirty years old who's ready to
say he's got enough money , just you
put him in a caae and send him down
to York to the museeurn. Ue'll be
the biggest cur ' osity there. * ' ! I
Tina turned away disgusted with
Aunt Nabby " o wordly wisdom , and
went up to her room to bathe her
ruffled plumes in the diviner art of
"Thaddens of Warsaw * * a book she
had ! just discovered in the old garret ,
now ] she would have shivered to hear
Aunt Nabby chuckle as she left the
room. i
"Ain 't shea high-flyer , Reuben ? I
wouldn < 't ask no better than for her
to I marry Eddard Wylde. She wants
money i to-keep her alive as much as
a i new chicken wants broodin' ; but '
3he thinks it's fine to turn up her >
nose i at it , poor little ignorant cree-
tur i ! " '
But Grandpa Hyd * and Aunt
Nabby ) both were-wise enough to say
no i more.
In due timeClementine met Ned
Wylde and was introduced to him.
He was a tall , well-looking young 1
fellow | , with good manners and a
kind I heart ; but Tina , from the first ,
sedulously ; avoided him. She was t
sure money had. spoiled him , and
that I he would lay every common
civility s from a young lady to a desire
to | share that money.
There was a certain grain of truth
tn'this i for there was not another
young ; girl in Coventry who was not
i too glad to talk , or dance , or drive , l i
or i row with Mr. Wylde not one
whom he could not have married ,
Miss ; Nabby said , and she was partly
in j the right. Somewere prettier
than Tina , many more eloquent and
better bred ; but with the innate per
versity of the sex , , he showed veiy
soon < a marked preference far Miss
Kent's : society , because she offered ,
him a new sensation that of being
shunned : , and , if any one may write
the word , snubbed-
Tina had , indeed , set her face as a
flint against him , for while she was
forced to-admit the sense , the manli-
ness , the wit and the consideratioa
that would have charmed her had he
been a poor poet or a struggling as
pirant for political honors , she felt
all the more obliged to turn away
from his pleasing society , lest her-
theories should tremble and perhaps ,
totter to thoiriall.
But nothing is certain in this world ;
like the man who awoke and found i
himself famous one morning , poor j
Tina was at last conscious that she- .
I'
loved Ned "Wylde more than any | '
creature on earth. She stood at her
closed blinds as he rode by on a
thorough-bred colt his father had
"bought for him before he came to
Coventry ; the creature was almost
unmanageable , and if Ned had not
been a good horseman , would have
thrown him then and there. Tina
was surehe was on the brink of
death , and everything grew black be
fore ber. When she looked up again
it was from a pillow on the floor , and
AuntNabby was sprinkilng her face j I
with camphor.
After this revelation to herself it I I
was useless to try to meet Ned Wylde
with calmness ; the loveliest tea-rose
tint would steal across her $ mre palo
clieek ? and thedark lashes fall over
innocent'eyes. Nature betrayed her
in spite oi herself , and when Ned
Wylde fairly asked her to love and
marry him , he was not only grieved
but astonished to receive a distinct
and curtrofusal.
That night Tina cried hersilf to
sleep. Tho consciousness of having
been true to her lofty theories vnsno
sort of comfort to her : in this deso
late hour all that high-minded con-
' tempt of money did nob support her
at all. Shu could only sob and
cry , and bo entirely wretched ,
and wish with all her soul
Ned Wylo wns as poor as poverty.
Ofcourso she could not como down
to breakfast in tho morning , and
when Aunt Nabby discovered her
with red eyes , sodden cheeks and fe
verish lips , and demanded to know
at once what was tho matter , Tina
broko down and cried dreadfully.
Aunt Nabby was a practical female ;
sho did not pot , or pat , or kiss hor
luckless niece , but sat down beside
her with a cup of hot coffee , and fed
hor with a teaspoon from that odor
ous beverage till a certain sense ot
warmth and comfort stole into tho
girl's aching heart ; for wo aro all
flesh and blood. Then , with the cun
ning of a venerable spider , the silly
| I child's confidence , and before Clemen
tine knew what she had said or un
said , arrived at tho whole truth ; for
Aunt Nabby was one of those induc
tive people celebrated in her vernacu
lar a "master hands at guessin' . "
Sho never thought it strange to hear
that a certain professor had fabricat
ed the whole dinornis from its foot
track ; she would havo done so from
tho impress of one toe , and perhaps
i with equal probability. She turned
I ' on the still sobbing Tina like a witch
ofthe Middle Ages. "And so you've
given Eddard the mitten because he's
rich ! " "Aunt Nabby ! " exclaimed the
poorgirl , "what makesyousay that ?
Oh , don't ! I never said so. Oh , it's
so dishonoroblo to tell such a tliingl
Oh , don'tl"
But Aunt Nabby was not to be
stayed or gainsaid when sho had
"got her head , " as they say about
horses ; she went right on with em
phasis and dispatch :
"Ofallthoeverlastin' fools I ever
did see j'ou do beat all ! Here's every
other gal in Coventy a runnin' after
him because he has got money , and
you're runnin ' away for no better
reason. Tiny Kent , look at me
square in the face. Don't you like
Ned Wylde ? "
Tina struggled in vain in the arms
of this incarnate destiny ; tho quick
blood crimsoned all her fair face be
fore she could bury it in the pillow.
No further answer was needful.
" 0 hi you like him. and he likes
you and wants to marry you and
there's nothin5 to hinder ; but you
can't have him because he's rich.
Well , I do say. fools ain't all dead
yet. Now set right up in tho bed and
hark to me. You pretend to despise
money , an ' you let it come betwixt
you and the feller you like ,
just as if it wai * the Lord
above. I call that ? thinkin' a
sight more of money than most
folks do. I don 't hold to marryin-
anybody unless you like'em amaz'
in'ly love'em. I suppose you'd call
it ; and I think a girl who marines a
man for money , when she don't love
him , had better be tied np in a halter
and hanged to begin with ; she ain't
worth rasin' any other way. But
why in the created universe if yon do
like a man enough to many him
any way , you should send him off be
cause he's got one leg , or red hair , ,
or bank stock , or a crooked nose ,
beats me. "
Tina had tolaugh , which was one
point gained , but AuntNabby hadn't
done yet.
"Moreover and mostover , yourd
DUghter thank the Lord that he has
2ot ; money if you ' re going to marry
him ; for though you ' re real pretty
. .ookinand good-natured enough
Tor week days , and some smart about
book learning , you ain't no more fit
k > be a poor man ' s wife than you be
to fly. Did you ever mend your
stockings , or make your clothes , or
knead up a batch of bread , or do
anything under the light ofthe moon
bo help getour own livin' ? No
more ' ii a posey in the garden1 . And
[ tell you. Tina Kent , poormen can't
nave posies to live on ; it takes grit
to be a poor man's wife , and you
haven 't got enough to < putin the-core
of a winter pear. "
"I I perhaps couldilearn , " sobbed
poor Tina.
"No , you couldn 't "tain't inye. .
What ain't in a mannever 'll come "
out o 'hini. Well , I won't pester you •
no more to-day ; get up and come
jown to your breakfast ; there ' s-fresh
peaches and cream , , and puff-cakes
ind br 'iled chicken. Poor folks don't
et them for breakfast. I'd like to |
3ee you eatin' pork and cabbnge ! * '
Clementine shuddered.
"Now get up , child ; and the next
iimeNed Wylde asks you to have him
• emember your old aunty's preach
ment , and don't bs twice afool. * '
"Oh. Aunty , he never , never will ! "
And here another flood of tears
Irowned the dawningroses-on. Tiny's
countenance.
"Well if you're eryin ' for that
' that'scertain. .
t's a < hopeful sign , -
\Iebbe he will and mebbe he won 't ;
out that ain 't to-day ' s business ; the
present distress is to ha-ve youi eat
four breakfast like a rational human
oeia' , and the chicken'sgettini" . "
Clementine obeyed like someehid -
len. child , and , though rather pale
.r and more languid than ever , , did
pull justice to her breakfast ; another
• lopeful sign Aunt Nabby thought.
Ned Wylde did not retunuhowever ,
that day , 3or many days thereafter ,
' he-did not leave
hough - Coventry ;
and Tina had time enough to find
out how dreary her lifewouldbe with
out himkand to indorse fully Aunt
Xabby ' s estimate of ber character
nd coiiduct.
And Mr. Wylde fouad out too that
"t was not easy to take "no" for an
answer , even when that do was as i
decided as Tina's : but a certain •
amcamt of self-respect forbade him. '
to appear intrusive or importunate ) ,
and at last it occurred to him to tak *
counsel with Aunt Nabby whom he
had kno-Tcn as long as his mother ,
and who would be better able to ex
plain the causeof Tina's behaTior
than any ono else ; for , after all , saan-
fashion , he cherished a secret faith
that the girl was not quite indiffer
ent to him. I am sorry to ay that
Annt Nabby not only chuckled her
self , but really evoked a smile on the
gentleman's rueful countenance dur
ing that private interview ; but , being
a lover , he probably viewed Clemen
tine's motives in a little different
light from that unt Nabby's J
L. i
H
frosty common souse. Yet ho hit ' H
that energetic old lady with a great H
amountofgratcfulacknowIcdgmentH , H
and finding Tina alono in tho sum- H
mer parlor , put his fate to tho touch ' H
again , and was not rejected at least , j H
though thero was very HttJo positive j H
acceptance in what sho made audible j H
to tho ear. But a look , a blush , a f l
smile , two dropping tears ! what , "j H
will you havo ? Because wo aro old / ! H
shall there be no moro lovers and H
kisses ? Cupid forbid ! f I H
Tho sacred rago of all and sundry / H
young females in Coventry when thev k t H
found that Edward Wyldo had realf H
ly gono to Canterbury , dragged , so i H
to speak , at Miss Kent's chariot J
wheels , shall not bo described here. H
Tina was in duo timo M
"Wooed ' ' ' " H
an' married an' a' ;
and when sentiment had had its M
flowery day , when Ned Wylde was a i M
portly man of business , and Tina a M
delicate ailing mother with fair , slight ; H
children , needing plenty of sorvnuts , j H
luxuries of food and clothing , winters i l
in Florida and Summers in the mount- • ' M
ains , she thought many a time ot old J H
Aunt Nabby , now at rest from her M
labors under the lupines and sand M
violets in the sunny Coventry church- H
"
yard , and owned to herself , with J H
gratitude to that departed spinster , ' H
that love without money mny b ( i M
good , money withoutlovo is surely de- \ M
testable , but , for her , love and money ' H
together had made home happy , and | |
life both possible and delightful. ! |
There is no moral to this story. ! |
i ' - H
Arsenical Paper. ' H
Although much has been written B
on the subject of arsenical wall paper * " I B
and textile frabries , it would appear j H
that tho custom of employing pois- $ |
onous colors is by no means a thing . H
of tho past. The public analyst of ' M
Paddington has recently published j |
some information upon this subject . * H
He has examined , he tells us a minitoi l
ber of imitation Indian muslins and H
cretonnes , and he found that twenty- H
three per cent , of these contained |
arsenic in an appreciable quantity , H
the colors in which the poison was H
found being principally tcrra-cotta ' H
reds and gallnut browns. Ho also |
made experiments with a view to tf J
what temperature these , fabrics f l
would give off arsenical vapors , but |
these experiments only gave nega- J H
five results. In spite of this , h * H
quotes two cases brought to him by H
medical men , in which well-marked H
symptoms of poisoning were ascribed H
to the use of these colored fabrics : 1
in one of these eass , several work ' * H
girls employed in making up the ma- H
ferial being taken ill with all th < > H
symptoms of arsenical poisoning. H
lie attributes this result to the fact ' H
that in the workroom the material H
was pressed with irons , which had : 'l l
far higher temperature than that ' H
used in his experiments. The sumo- . |
authority also tells that he found H
arsenic in a. glazed cardboard box |
of a grpen color , which had contained | H
chocolate. Without ; wishing to b < > ; ui. j J
alarmist , he points out that individ- _ H
uals can do little in stopping this I H
wholly unnecessary use of virulent H
poison , and he very rightly suggests |
that the-law should make themanu - H
facturer answerable for the eviL M
Chamber's Journal. |
A Stnpemlous Mystery.- H
Proctor declared that Tnw even H
among scientific men appreciate tin * H
amazing mystery ofthe force we call H
gravity. i Wonderful as is the famil- H
iar : attraction of bodies to the earth. H
gravitation- , altogether a greater M
! mystery when * considered as a prop- H
orty ' possessed by matter. The uni- H
versality of the property , whfch be- ' ' 1
longs ' not merely to this or that sub- H
stance , but to > every substance , solid , H
liquid i or gaseous , and not ? to such H
awl i such aggregations of matter , but 4 | J
to the ultimate moecules and atoms , . H
is an amazing , if not an appalling , H
mystery. Here is matter , which men ' H
call ' inert , nob merely possessing in- H
herent force , but with its whole tex- ' H
tare instinct with inherent unex- i l
plained , probably inexplicable , pow- i H
er. ' But if the universality of grav- ( H
itation and infinite range of the force- l l
thus exerted 1)3' all matter are won- C l
derful , infinitelv more wonderful is V H
the instantaneous nature of its oppr * ' 1
ation. This quality of universal ' 1
gravitation is indeed so wonderful , H
that few who hear of it for the first i l
time can ev n admit that it is possi- H
ble. Yet the astronomer has been l
j
able to demonstrate that the inter- l
val of time required for gravity to. i H
extend its-action from one bodini Ij H
space to any other body even if sep j l
aratedbya distant * * eo great that ' 1
light at 1S7.000 miles per second. I H
takes thousands of 3'eara to cross it. , H
is less than any interval which can ha- H
measur&3 ? i B
Edison on Acrfel firigation. H
ChicagO/Mail. l
f
In c3mection with aerial naviga- ' H
tion Lrecall a conversation which I H
had one evening with Mr. Edison , ! H
I do 2ot remember his exact words , H
butias idea is submitted. H < > 1"j
j H
lievad that the timewould , come j l
whoa transportation through the air m j H
weald be the order o things in that i H
line. Many persons in talking of j l
this sort of transportation , had thf * l l
erroneous notion that an air sbipov ( 4r * |
car , or whatever i 3 would bmust j H
go up a mJle or mare. This was not fl
,3ecessaty. If it 'arerenohigher than ; ' H
Ithe ordfaary building "Shat would . H
suffice. j H
" Whea the tixie cooes for it to b l
put in Dperatisn , " Itesaid , "the4- r f H
will be-one drawback to it. and that- jj H
is the ease wbich it will afford crim- J M
inal&in making their escape from j J
whatever point their crime was com- ; H
mitted. There roll be no danger of I H
their being intercepted by wire , as is ' |
the case sow. It may be that the t H
same science which will give as this H
sort of navigation wiU provido some- 1
thing also by which criminals , who H
make their escape through the air , M
will be overtaken. But this will i H
take time. In my opinion when we ' H
shall have aerial navigation we. shall : H
see more crime. " ' J