Decatur Democrat, Volume 38, Number 12, Decatur, Adams County, 8 June 1894 — Page 8

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CHAPTER IX—Continued. “Isn’t he? Too much of the watchdog about him, I suppose. As for fast friends, there s not much friendship between Wyatt and me. He's a useful j fellow to have about one, that's all. He has served me faithfully, and has got I well paid for his services. It’s a matter • of pounds, shillings, and pence on his t side, and a matter of convenience on ■ mine. No doubt Wyatt knows that as you think friendship on such | a basis may be rather an insecure { bond?" said Constance, gravely; “and that a man who cau consent to profess friendship on such degrading terms is h likely to De half an enemy?” “On, I don’t go in for such high-flown t ethics. Jim Wyatt knows that it’s his interest to serve me well, and that it's t as much as his life is worth to play me I false. .Tim and I understand one an- | other perfectly, Constance, you may be I sure. fe "I am sure that he understands you, ” Banswered Constance. But Gilbert had gone before she had ■ finished her sentence. Baby, christened Christabel, after ■the late Lady Clanyarde, was nearly a \twelvemonth old, and had arrived, in the opinion of mother and nurse, at the most interesting epoch of babyhood. Her tender cooings her jovous chuckffings, her pretty c uck-clucking noises, 'M of anxious maternal hens calling afopiir offspring, her inarticulate language of broken syllables, which only maternal love could Interpret, were an I Inexhaustible fountain of delight She ’ was the blithest and happiest of babies, a»)d every ob'ect in creation with Which she became newly acquainted Wm a source of rapture to her. The Bowers, the birds, the insect life of that balmy pine forest, fl led her with Je ight. The soft blue eyes sparkled .With pleasure, the rose-bud lips jbabbled her wordless wonder, the little : keet danced with ecstasy. <I“Oh." cried the de ighted mother, “if •she would alwavs be just like this, my rfaything, my darling! Os course,! mall lOve her just as dearly when she 10older —along-armed, lanky girl in a bjrown holland pinafore, always inking her fingers and getting into trouble about her lessons—like my sisters and me when we were in the school-room; bat she can never be so pretty or so Weet again, can she, Martha?” “Lor’, mum, she’ll always be a love,” wplied the devoted nurse; “and as for tar arms being long and her fingers mky, you won’t love her a bit less— Sd I’m sure, I hope she won’t be worWd with too many lessons, for I do Brik great folks’ children are to be ■ed, naif their time cooped up in Tool rooms or stretched out on blackHrds, or strumming on the piano, Jlta poor children are running wild •he fields.” ~Oh, Martha, how shocking,” cried js. Sinclair, pretending to be horrijd, “to think that one of my favorite anile should underrate the value.of lucation.” “Oh, no, indeed, ma’am, I have no ich thought. I have often felt what 1 hle««ing it is to be able to read a tod book and write a decent letter. hBI never can think that life jvas USt to be all education.” is all education, Ma-tha,” an- - ?$Hd her mistress, with a sigh, “but ÜBhe education of grammars and MSnarles. The world is our school .tiSime our schoolmaster. No, MarChristabel shall not "be harked with too much learning. We ■a’t try to make her a paragon. Her Esh all be all happiness and freedom, ■■she shall grow up without the ■Hedge of care or evil, except the Kws of others, and these she shall 6 K and she shall marry a man she >S, whether he is rich or poor, for I ■ sure my sweet one would never B a bad man.” •don't say that ma'am,” reiterated 'Kha; “looks are so deceiving. I'm ■ there was my own cousin, on the •r’s side, Susan Tadgers, married BhandHomest young man in March■c village, and before they'd been Bears married he took to drinking, Kras so neglectful of himself you Jjdn’t have known him; and his tekers, that he used to take such le in, are all brown and shaggy, l a straw Scotch terrier. ” Be day after that s mewhat unTsant tete-a-tete between husband l Wife, Gilbert Sinclair announced Intention of goinjj back to England »e Leger. (have never missed a Leger,” he ■as If attendance at that race were ®us duty, like ’ the Commination lee on Ash-Wednesday, “and I Jdn’t like to miss this race.” adn’t we better go home at once, l Gilbert? lam quite ready to repUMnse. I’ve taken this place hOOth of October, and shall have stiffly for it. I shall come ■frectly after the Doncaster.” Hit will be a fatiguing journey as spon be sitting in a railMain as anywhere else.” oes Mr. Wyatt go back with you?” tfWyatt stays at Baden for the leekor so. He pretends to be the sake of the water, goes ' title to the Kursaal, and lives like a careful old bachelor who \ tn mend a damaged constituKfc I should rather think he had Kper game than water-drink-

alone with her child. The weather was delightful—cloudless skies, balmy days, blissful weather for the grape gatherers on the vine-clad slopes that Sheltered one side of this quaint old village of Schoenesthal. A river wound through the valley, a deep and rapid stream narrowing m this cleft of the hills, and utilized by some sawmills in the outskirts of the village, whence at certain seasons rafts of timber were floated down the Rhine. A romantic road following the course of this river was one of Mrs. Sinclair’s favorite drives. There were picturesque old villages and romantic ruins to be explored, and many lovely spots to be shown to baby, who, although inarticulate, was supposed to be appreciative. Upon the first day of Gilbert's ab sence Martha Briggs came home from her afternoon promenade with baby, looking flushed and tired, and complaining of sore throat. Constance was quick to take alarm. The poor girl was going to have a fever, perhaps, and must instantly be separated from baby. There was no medical man nearer than Baden, so Mrs. Sinclair sent the groom off at once to that town. She told him to inquire for ths best English doctor in the place, or if there was no English practitioner at Baden, for the best German doctor. The moment she had given these instructions, however, it struck her that the man who was not remarkable for intelligence out of his stable, was likely to lose time in making his inquiries, and perhaps get misdirected at last. “Mr. Wyatt is at Baden, ’’ she thought; “I dare say he would act kindly In such an extremity as this, though I have no opinion of his sincerity in a general way. Stop, Dawson,” she said to the groom, “I’ll give ycu a note for Mr. Wyatt, who is staying at the Badenscher Hos. He will direct you to the doctor. You will drive to Baden in the pony-carriage, and, if possible, brink the doctor back with you.” Baby was transferred to the care of Melanie Duport, who seemed full of sympathy and kindliness for her fel-low-servants, a sympathy which Martha Briggs’ surly British temper disdained. Mrs. Sinclair had Martha’s bed moved from tbe nursery into her own dress-ing-room, where she would be able herself to take care of the invalid. Melanie was ordered to keep strictly to Ker nursery, ani on no account to enter Martha’s room. “But if Martha has a fever, and madame nurses her, this little angel may catch the fever from madame," suggested Melaine. ‘T.f Martha’s illness is contagious I shall not nurse her,” answered Constance. "I can get a nursing sister from one of the convents. But I like to have the poor girl near me, that, at the Worst, she may know that she is not deserted.” “Ah, iQpdame is too good! What happiness to serve so kind a mistriss!” Mr. Wyatt showed himself most benevolently anxious to be useful on receipt of Mrs. Sinclair’s note. He made all necessary inquiries at the office of tbe hotel, and having found out the name of the best doctor in Baden, took the trouble to accompany the .groom to the medical man’s house, and waited until Mr. Paulton, the English surgeon, was seated in the ponycarriage. “I shall be anxious to know if Mrs, Sinclair's nurse is seriously ill, ” said Mr. Wyatt, while the groom was taking his seat “I shall take the liberty to call and inquire in the course of the evening.” “Delighted to give you any information,” replied Mr. Paulton, graciously; “I’ll send you a line if you like. Where are you staying?” “At the Badenscher.” “You shall know how the young woman is directly I get back.” “A thousand thanks.” CHAPTER X. THE CRUEL BIVER Mrs. Sinclair’s precaution had been in no wise futile. Mr. Paulton pronounced that Martha’s symptoms pointed only too plainly to some kind of fever—possibly scarlet fever —possibly typhoid. In any case there could not be too much care taken to guard agaipst contagion. The villa was airy and spacious, and Mrs. Sinclair's dress-ing-room at some distance from the nursery. There would be no necessity, therefore, Mr. Paulton said, for the removal of the chi d to another house. He would send a nursing sister from Baden—an experienced woman—to whoe care the sick-room might be safely confided. The sister came—a middle-aged woman—in the somber garb of her order, but with a pleasant, cheerful face, that well tecame her snow-white head-gear. She showed herself kind and dexterous in nursing the sick girl, but before she had been three days in the house. Martha, who was now in a raging fever, took a dislike to the nurse, and raved wildly about this black-robed figure at her bedside. In vain did the sister endeavor to reassure her, To the girl’s wandering wits that foreign tongue seemed like the gibberish of some unholy goblin. She shrieked for hejp, and Mrs. Sinclair rap in from an adjoining room to see what was amiss. Martha was calmed and comforted immediately by the sight of her mistress; and from that time Constance devoted herself to the sick-room and shared the nurse’s watch. This meant separation from Christabel, and that wa; a hard trial for the mother, who had never yet lived a day apart from her child; but Constance bore this bravely f>r the sake of the faithful girl—too thankful that her darling had escaped the fever which had so strangely stricken the nurse. The weather continued glorious, and baby seemed quite happy with Melanie, who roamed abrnt with her charge all day, or went for long drives in the pony carriage under the care of the faithful Dawson, who was a pattern of sobriety and steadiness, and incapable of flirtat'on. Mr. Wyatt rode over from Baden every other day to inquire about the nurse s progress—an inquiry which he might just as easily have made of the doctor in Baden—and this exhibition of good feeling on his part induced Constance to think that she had hten mistaken in her estimate of his char-

“The Gospel says ‘Judge not,’" she thought. ard yet we are always sitting in judgment upon one another. Perhaps, after all. Mr. Wyatt Is as kindhearted as hls admirers think him, and I have done wrong in being prejudiced against him. He was Cyprian’s friend too, and always speaks of him with particular affection?’ Constance remembered that scene in the morning-room at Da venant. It was ope of those unpleasant memories which do not grow fainter with the pusage of years. She had been inclined to suspect James Wyatt of a malicious intention in hia sudden announcement of Sir Cyprian’s death—< the wish to let her husband see how strong a hold her first love still Had upon her heart. He, who had been Cyprian Davenant's friend and confidante, wu likely to have known something of that earlier attachment, or at least to have formed a shrewd guess at the truth. “Perhaps I have suspected him wrongly in that affair,” Constance thought, now that she wu disposed to think mo: e kindly of Mr. Wyatt. “His mention of Sir Cyprian might have been purely accidental." Four or five times in every day Melaine Duport brought the baby Christabel to the grass-plot under the window of Mrs. Sinclair’s bedroom, and there were tender greetings between mother and child, baby struggling in nurse’s grasp and holding up her chubby arms as if she would fain have embraced her mother even at that distance. These interviews were a sorry substitute for the long happy hours of closest companionship which mother and child had enjoyed at Schoenesthal] but Constance bore -the trial bravely, The patient wu going on wonderfully well. Mr. Paulton said; the violence of the fever wu considerably abated. It had proved a light attack Mjf the scarlet fever, and not typhoid, |u the doctor had feared it might have proved. In a week the patient would most likely be on the high-road to recovery, and then Mrs. Sinclair could leave her entirely to the sister's care, since poor Martha wu now restored to her right mind, and wu quite reconciled to that trustworthy attendant. “And then, said Mr. Paulton, “I shall send you to Baden for a few days, before you go back to baby, and you must put uide all clothes that you have worn in the sick-room, and I think we shall escape all risk of infection.” This was a good hearing. Constance languished for the happy hour when she should be ab'e to clasp that rosy babbling child to.her breut once more. Madamoiselle Duport had been a marvel of goodness throughout this anxious time. “I shall never forget how good and thoughtful you have been, Melanie,” said Constance, from her window, as the French girl stood in the garden below, holding baby up to be adored before setting out for her morning ramble. “Biit it is a pleasure to serve Madame, ” shrieked Melanie, in her shrill treble. “Monsieur returns this evening,” said Constance, who had just received a nurried scrawl from Gilbert, naming the hour of his arriv al; “you must take care that Christabel looks the prettiest " “Ah, but she is always ravishingly pretty. If she were only a boy, Monsieur would idolize her.” “Where are you going this morning, Melanie?" “To the ruined castle on the hill.” “Do you think that is a safe place for baby?” “What could there be safer? What peril can madame forsee?” “No,” said Constance, with a sigh. "I suppose she is as safe there as anywhere else, but I am always uneasy when she is awav from me." “But madame’s love for this little one is a passion!” Melanie departed with her charge, and Constance went back tb the sickroom to attend her patient while the sister enjoyed a few hours’ comfortable sleep. One o’clock was Christabel's dinner time, and Christabel’s dinner was a business of no smalt importance in the mother's mind. One o’clock came, and there was no sign of Melanie and her charge, a curious thing, as Melanie was methodical and punctual to a praiseworthy degree, and was provided with a neat little silver watch to keep her acquainted with the time. Two o'clock struck, and still no Melanie. Oonstar.ee began to grow uneasy, and sent scouts to look for the nurse and child. But when 3 o'clock came and baby had not yet appeared, Constance became seriously alarmed, and put on her hat hastily, and went out in search of the missing nurse. She would listen to the servants who had just returned from their fruitless quest, and who begged her to let them go in fresh directions while she waited the result at home. “No,” she said; “I could not rqpt I must go myself. Send to the police, any one, the proper authorities. Tell them my child is lost. Let them send in every direction. You have been to the ruins?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And there was no one there? You could hear nothing?” “No, ma’am,” answered Dawson, the groom; “the place was quite lonesome. There was nothing but grasshoppers chirping.” u —- Ito be contiwueo. | A Useful Tree. The cocoa palm is the most useful tree on earth. Fresh water is procured from the nut before it is ripe, a single sample often containing three or four pounds of clear water, almost pure, save for a little sugar; the nut, when ripe, is very nutritious; the milk from the ripe nut is a good substitute for that of the cow; the young buds make ?;ood cabbage and greens; wine is made rom the sap and flower stalks, and its fermentation and distillation produces vinegar and brandy; the nutshells furnish utensils; ana from the fibers are made all sorts of clothing, textile fabrics, and even the sails, ropes, and other cordage of ships; its juices furnish ink, and its leaves pensandpaper. —St Louis Globe-Democrat. Two Surprises in Life. In youth one is surprised that he knows so much. When he has reached matured life he is surprised that there are so many things things he doesn’t know. Ibsen dines every day at the Grand Hotel, Christiania. He sits in solitary grandeur at a little table, seldonj speaking to any one except the waiter, but very often taking notes of those they n iyo tSveQeen

TAf/MAGE’S SEKMON. HIS GREAT DISCOURSE ON WOr’ MAN S WORK. No Dpgr%oa to Work-A Strange Pn« of ■ ■MpootabUity—Let Women Do What 8h« Can Do Well—The Dread Alternative of Starvation or Dtahonor. SonK of the Shirt. Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, who is no< t on hls round the world journey, chose as subject Sunday “Martyrs of the Needle,” the text being Matthew xix, 24, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle.” Whether this “eye of the needle’’ be the small gate at the side of the big entrance cf the wall of the ancient Dity, as is generally interpreted, or the eye of a needle such as is nov handled in sewing a garment I do not say. In either case it would be a tight thing for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. But there are whole caravans of fatigues and hardships going through the eye of the sewing woman’s needle. Very long ago the needle was busy. It was considered honorable for women to toil in olden time. Alexander thjs Great stood in his palace showing garments made by his own Th® finest tapestries at Bayeux were made by the Queen of William the Conqueror. Augustus, the Emperor would not wear any garment except those that were fashioned by some member of hls royal family. So let the toiler everywhere be respected! The greatest blessing that could have happened to our first parents wap being turned out of Eden after they had done wrong. Adam and Eye in their perfect state, might have got along without work, or only such slight employment as a perfect garden, with no weeds in it demanded. But as soon as they had sinned the best thing for them was to be turned out where they would have to work. We? know what a withering thing it is for man to have nothing to do. Good old Ashbel Green, at fourscore years, when, asked why he kept on working said, ■ ft l do so to keep out of mischief. We A man who has a large aipount of money to start with has no chance. Os the thousand prosperous and honorable men that you know, 999 had to work vigorously at the beginning. Idle Women Dnhappv. But lam now to tell you that indue- ; try is just as important for a woman’s, , safety and happiness. The most unhappy women in our communities to-<iay are those who have no engagements to call them up in the morning, who, once having risen and break- > fasted, lounge through the dull forenoon in slippers down at the heel and with disheveled hair, reading the last novel, and w’ o, having dragged through a wretched forenoon and taken their afternoon sleep, and having spent an hour and a half at their toilet, pick up their cardcase and go out to make calls, and who pass their evenings waiting for somebody to come in and break up the monotony. Arabella Stuart never was imprisoned in. so dark a dungeon as that. There is no happiness in an idle woman. It Aay be with hand, It may i be with brain, it may be tvith foot, But : work she must or be wretched forever. The little girls of our families i must be started with that idea. The : curse of our American society is that : our young women are taught that the < first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, ; seventh, tenth, fiftieth, thousandth thing in their life is tp get someone to take care of them. Instead Os that, the first lesson should be how, under : God, they may take care of themselves. The simple, fact is that a ma- : jority of them do have to take care of themselves, and that, too, after having, through the false notions of their parents, wasted the years in which ( they ought to have learned how successfully to maintain themselves. We how and here declare the inhumanity, , fcruelty, and outrage of that father and; mother who pass their daughters into womanhood, having given them no facility for earning their livelihood. Mme. de Steel said, “It is nut these writings that I ath proud of, but tfie fact that I have facility in ten occupations, in any one of which I could make a livelihood. ” Riches Have Wince. You say you have a fortune to leave them. O man and woman, have you not learned that, like vultures, like hawks, like eagles, riches have wings and fly away? Though you should be successful in leaving a competency behind you, the trickery of executors may swamp it in a night, or some elders or deacons of our churches may g®t up a fictitious company and induce your orphans to put their money into it, and if it be lost prove to them that was eternally decreed that that was the way they were to lose it, and. that it went in, the most, orthodox and heavenly style. Oh, the damnable schemes that professed Christians will enrage in—until God puts his fingers into the collar of the hypocrite’s robe and ripe it clear down to tbe bottom! You have no right because you, Are well off, to conclude that your children are going to be as well off. A man died, leaving a large fortune. His son fell dead in a Philadelphia grog shop His old comrades came in and said as they bent over his corpse: “What is the matter with you, Bogrsey?” The surgeon, standing over him, said: “Hush up; he is dead”’ “Ah, he is dead!” they said. “Come, boys, Iptus go and take a, drink in memory of poor Boggsey!” ’Have you nothing better than money to leave your children? If you have not, but send your daughters into the world with empty brain and, upskilled, hand, you are guilty of assassination, homicide, regicide, infanticide. There are women wiling in dur cities for $3 and $4 per week who were daughters of merchant princes. Tflese suffering ones now would be glad to have the crumps that once fell from their father’s table. That wornout, broken shoe that she wears is the lineal descendant of the Sl2 gaiters in which her mother walked, and that torn and faded calico had ancestry of magnificent brocade that swept Broadway clean vHthout any expense to the street commissioners. Though you live in an elegant resiaence and fare sumptuously every day, let your daughters feel it is a disgrace to them not to Know how to work. I depqunoe the idea prevalent in society that, thqugh our young women may embroider slippers, and crochet, and make mate tor lamps tq stand on with-

It 1J? a sltetee fpr • voting woman belonging to a large family to be inefficient when the father toils his life •way tor her support. It is a ahwe for a 4apghter to be sle while pprmother toils at the Washtub. It Is aS honorable to sweep house, make bads, , or trim hats as it Is to twist a watoh chain. . Society is to be reconstructed on the subject of woman’s toll. A vast Majority of those who would have woman Industrtous shut her up toa fawMafis oi worlp My judgment in this matter is that a woman has a right to do ariyt thing she can do well. There should be no department of merchandise, mechanism, art;, or silence barred against hek If Miss Hosmer has genius’ for sculpture, give her a chisel. If Rosa Bonneur has a fondness for delineating apimals, let her M»ke "The Horse Fair.” If Miss Mitchell will study astronomy, let her mount the starry ladder. If Lydia will be a merchaPt, let her sell purple. If Lucretia Mptt wIH preach the gospel, let her thrill with hei womanly eloquence the Quaker meeting house. Ttu> ToU of the Needle, It is said. If if oman is given suph opportunities she will occupy places that might be taken by men. I say, if she have more skill and adapteapess for any position than a has, let her have It! She has as much right to her bread, to her apparel and to net* hdfne as men have. But it is said that her nature, is, so delicate that she is unfitted for exhausting toil. I ask in the name of all past history what toil on earth is more severe, exhausting and tremendous than that toil of the npedle, to which for ages she has been subjected? The battering ram, the sword, the carbine, the battlpax, have made no such havoc pstheneeale. I would, that these living sepulchers in which women have for ages been buried might be opened, and that some resurrection trumpet might bring up these living corpses to the fresh air and sunlight "Go with] me, and ! will show you a woman who, by hardest toil, supports her children, hpr drunken hqsband, het; old father and mother, pays her house rent, always has wholesome food on the table, and wnen she can get, some neighbor on the Sabbatu to come In and take cape of her family appears in church with hat and cioak that are far from indicating the foil to Which she is subjected. Such a woman as that has body and soul enough to fit her for any position. She could stand beside the majority of your salesmen and dispose of more gpods. Shus could go into your wheelwright shops and beat one-half of your workmen at making carriages. We talk about woman as though we had resigned to hep all the 1W W,¥>. and. ourselves had shouldered the heavier, But the day of judgment, which will reveal the sufferings of the stake and inquisition, will marshal before the throne of God- and the hierarchs of Heaven the martyrs of washtub and needle. Now, I s»y, if there be any preference in occupation, let woman hfive. it. God knows her trials are the severest. By her acuter sensitiveness to misfortune. by her hour of anguish, I demand that no one hedge up hep pathway to a livelihood. Oh, the meanness, the despicability of men who begrudge the right to work anywhere, honorable calling! I go still further and say that women should pave equal compensation with men. By what principle of justice is it that women in, many of ourcitidb get only two-thirds as much pay as men, and in many cases only half? Herd is the gigantic injustice—that for work equally well if not better donq woman receives far less compensation than man. Start with the National Government. For a long while women clerks in Washington got 8900 for doing that which mpn received SI,BOO. One Grim Alternative. To thousands of young women in our cities to-day there is only this alterna-tive-starvation or dishonor. Many of . the largest mercantile establishments of our cities are accessory to these abominations, and fioth their large'establishments there are soqpes of souls being pitefled off into death, and their employers know it! Is therer a God? Will there be a judgment? I tell you. if God rises up to redress womap’s wrongs, many of our large establishments will be swallowed up quicker than a South American earthquake ever took down a city. God. will catch these oppressors between the two millstones ot His wrath and grind them to powder! I hear from all this land the wail of womaphood. Man has nothing-.fo, answer to that wail but flatteries. He says she is an ahgel. She is not. She knows she is not. She is a human being, who gets hungry when she has no , food, and cold whep she has no. fire. Give her no more flatteries; give her justice! There are about 50,000 sewing girls in New York and Brooklyn. Across the darkness of this night I hear their death groan. It is not such a cry as comes from those who are suddenly hurled out of life, but a slow, grinding, horrible wasting away. Gather them before you and look into their faces, pinched, ghastly, hunger struck! Look at their fingers, needle pricked and blood tipped! See that, premature stoop in the shoulders! Hear that dry, hacking, merciless cough! Ata large meeting of these women held in a hall in Philadelphia grand speeches were delivered, but a needlewoman took the stand, threw aside her faded shawl, ana with her shriveled arm hurled a verv thunderbolt of; eloquence! speaking out the horrors of her own experience. ; Stand at the corner of a street in, New York in the very early morning as the women go to their work. Many of them haa no breakfast except the crumbs that were left over from the night before or a crust tpey chew on their way through the street. Here they come, the working girls of the city! These engaged in beadworlq these in flower making, in millinery, enameliiMf. cigar making, bookbinding, labeling, feather picking, print coloring, paper boxmaking,’ but, most overworked of all and least compensated, tne sewing woman. Why do they not. take the cHy cars on their way up? They cannot afford the 5 cental If, concluding to deny herself something else, she gets into the car, give her a seat! You want to see how Latimer and Ridley appeared in the fire. Lopk at that woman and behold Twenty-four Cents » I>ay.

.•he needed medicine noi «o mpph M ly: "Eight cental Eight cental Eight steep, but I rnqst get ; done. We SfcfAwratwanr) that txlxsa WKA lUdllCUlir garments at 8 cents apiece, and that she could make but three of them in a day. Hear itl Three times eight are twenty-four! Haar it mpp apd who have comfortable homes! Some pi the worst villains of the city are the employers of these wqjnen. They beat them down tothe last penny and try to .cheat them outoi that, work on. When the work is done, it is sharply inspected, the most insignificant flaws picked out, and the refused, and sometimes the deposited not given back. TheWomqps Protective Union reports a case where one of these poor souls, finding a vtace where she could get more wages, re1 have 00we to get whatyftp He made no answers She said, Are you hot going to pay me?** "Yes,’.’ he •aid, "I will pay you,” and ha ktefced her down the stairs. How are these eviteto be eradtefted? What have you to pnpwer. you who sell coats and have shoes made Ind contract for the Southern, and Western markets? What help te, there, feet such ballot might have on other questions lam not here to dispute, hut what would be the effect of female suffrage upon woman’s wages? I do notbelieve that woPiah wilT ever get justice by woman’s ballot Indeed, women oppress wqwm much as men do. Do ppt muqh as men, beat down to thelowest figure the woman who sews for them? Are not women as sharp as men on washerwomen and milliners and mantua makers? If a. woman asks a dollar for her work, does not her lemale employer ask her if she wUA not take 90 cents? You say, "Quly lO cents’difference,” but that is sometimes the difference between Heaven and hell. Women have often less commiseration for woman than mwa H a woman steps aside from of virtue, man may forgive—woman, never! Woman will never get justice done her from woman’q ballot The Ftemlnr SwopdNever will she get it from, JUp’s ballot How, then? God for her. God has more resource t “ an we know of. The flaming sword mat hung at Eden’s gate when woman was driven out will ejeavp with ita I te i rs l ® edge her oppressors. But there is something for our women to do. Let our young people prelarger wages. If ft be shown that a woman can in a store sell more goods in a year than a man, ®he will wcyfcbe able not only to ask but to Qgtejpd more wages, and to demand them successfully. Unskilled and incosspetent labor must take what is given. Stewed / and competent labor will eventually make its own standard. Admitting that the law of supply and demand- Regulates these. things, I contend tfeafc the v demand for skilled labor is very great orable and that you can do Some one thing better thtoapy one else. »«• si? shk: awhile called into another relation, you will all the better be quaUftad for it by your spirit ot self M / you are called to stay as you are you can be happy and sell supporting. Her Freckles and qes Shu. I What,will become, of, this godles® disciple of fashion? What ap insult to her sex! Her manners are an outrage upon decency. She ii more thoughtful of the attitude she strides L upon the carpet than how she will look in the judgment; mote, worried, about her freckles than her sios; more int erested in her bonnet strings Utah in her redemption. Her apparel,: i», the ppprest part of a Christian however magnificently dressed, and no one has sb touch right io dress 1 Well aa a Christian. Not so with this, godless disciple, of fashion, TaKe, her robes, ana you take everything. Death will cOme down on her some day ’’ and rub the bistre off her eyelids and the rquge off hep chqeks,. apd With two rough, bon? hands aqatter spangles ana glass beads and rings and ribbons and lace and brooches and bpckles and sashes and frlsetteq and golden clasps. The dying actress, whose life had been vicious, said: "The scene closes. Draw the curtain.” Generally ttSgedy comes first and, the, farce aftegward, wretched eternity. Compare the life and death of woh a hold. Ido not know that she was "to er offered a hand in marriage* Site lived Whenever the sic< were to be or the poor to be provided; with any sick pauper who asked her. As she got older there wete days when she was a little shanb.W.for part auntie was a sunbeam—just the one for Christmas eve-„ better than any one else how to fix things. Her every prayer, as Godheard it, was S-HESSW culiar notions, but the grandest notion she ever had was to make youi hippy. was that of a meek add* quiet Spirit, which, in the sight ot Gpa, isof: great carried her out to rest the Suhaay school class almost covered thwodffin with japonicas, and tpe ( ppor teople stood at the end oftheadUy, whhQfoir aprons to their eyes, sobbing bitterly, and the man of the world said, with Splqmon, "Ser price wm ahwwrubies,” and Jesus, as unto tbe maiden Xee J , U Ssel” CQW|I1 * nde4 ’ You hear a great deal about fate in, the conversation of the shiftless.