Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 30 December 1883 — Page 4

Page PDF (13.76 MB)

Back to issue view

LIFE AND SOCIETY.

Women, Marriage and Luxury.

IN TIIE GOLDEK OLOW.

Lo! broken up and meHed the sky Where1 g^n liSS! Iwi t« foM« Too vast" and shlnlng-clear lor mortal slglil

art glorified.

Oh that the burning sunset could but

Thoec^burnlng thought# for •which all

Could'ten*hoVmy

whole lore to thee la

Quenchlessand

pureas the very Are from

heaven I

Ah! lift the wonder* of that amber hair. And turn on me thine eyes, so sweet and

And let their pity meet the lo veln mine-i-lty and lore akin and

velvet,

i'om*

Borne Comfort.

Dainty table mats are crocheted of white knitting cotton, in oblong shape. They are finished with a crochet edge «if the cotton or with torchon or Irish linen lace.

In a email dining

room,

10A*tandsome

1 I

a sideboard

may oltimea be in the way, and can be discarded entirely by the use of a small i,2*-vin£t table, with a corner cupboard to hoFd tne silver. A small set of shelves may be hung above the table for holding plates or china.

This is an admirable method for "frosting" a Christmas tree: Fiist simply sprinkle the tree all over with water, shaking off any superfluous quantity, and then dredge it with flour. If there is too much water on the branches the flour will cake. In a few minutes it become hard, and will last

library screen has a

frame-work of mahogony. It Ib square

form, and the center is filled with black

decorated with embroid

ered fans. These are not over two and one-half inches long, and are embroidered in outline stitch in varied colors and many Resigns, but in form they are similar.

A useful and even tasteful cover foi the marble slab of the sideboard is made of a strip of canton flannel just the width of the slab. It should be long enough to hang over at the ends four or five inches. Trim the edge with white or colored ball fringe, and, if you wish, a row of Kate Greenaway figures may be outlined at each end. Line the flannel with firm, white cotton cloth, or with turkey red calico.

Pillow shams in accord with the new fashion of having colors bed furniture all made with a square of blue, red or pink eatin, edged with a wide lace insertion on narrow strip of satin and an outer border of lace four or live inches wide. The satin center may be either painted or embroidered. A pretty pair made later has the wellknown night and morning of Thorwoldsen in black and white.

One

of the latest novelties in lamp

shades is iced or crackled glass, which was the invention of a Frenchman named Bay. The peculiar crackled appearance is obtained by covering the surface of the sheet of glass with a thick coating of some coarse grained flux or some more easily fusible glass, and thensubjecting it to the action of a strong fire. As soon as the coating Is fused and the table red hot, it is withdrawn and rapidly subjected to a cooling process, wnicn at once separates the faver of flux from the underlying surface and leaves behind the evidence of its attachment to the same in regu. lar outlines, scales crystal forms, ete.

The Parlor.

"We will describe a small red parlor. The walls of pale terre cotta color, with a frieze of darker red, about a foot and a half wide, a little classic dancing figure, with a musical instruinent painted on it at intervals of about four feet. Below the frieze let there be a bronze picture and figure pictures on the wall. Let the ceiling be of bronze, the effect of which can be produced by paint, with either a conventional pattern in red all over \t or a wreath of red cactUB or a red passion flower painted round it. Let the wood be stained to represent rosewood, and the fireplace be of the same or terre cotta, with brass grate or dogs. Over the mantel-piece either the painted panels of figures, with a bronze or rosewood panel between .• them, holding a sconce or a mirror or a little painted arras representing classic figures, with aborder of flowers.

The curtains of the window may be of deep red plush, lined with a lighter tone, or of Bateen darker than the walls in color, and embroidered either #11 over in rich dark red flower, or red flowers and red leaves of many shades. Or the curtain might be single, very full, and made of plush with a border all round of sateen, which could be embroidered. A sofa covered in a material displaying in the pattern many shades of red, some inclining to embrowned purple. The chairs of black painted straw or rattan, with cushions of varying reds some chairs of rosewood. Before the sofa a rosewood sofa-table, with a table doth like a scarf that is thrown across the long way of the table* Let the table^ cloth be of red velvet, with embroidered ends of lighter tone and on the cloth lay a few books, one or two of parchment, one or two of red or Russia leather, find a bronze statuette, and glass or vase containing tea or red roses will complete the ornaments.—[Decorator and Furnisher.

Hp The Dinlng-Room. somewhat novel way to trim a table scarf is to put three-cornered pieces of silk or Batin on each end.

Have theBe pieces half a yard deep at the longest side, in the corner embroider a spray of flowers where the j£5* satin or silk end joins the center

part of the scarf put a row of fancy

it* stiiches. A dark crimson felt scarf, with one end light blue, the other of 'W' crimson, shaded to brown, is very handsome. Outline work or etching in colored cottons, on crash or momie cloth, may be quickly done, and_ is applied to numberless uses. Doylies are very pretty decorated in this way, and a Bet thus ornamented forms a most housekeeper.

sofa or easy chair, bureau sets, splash ere, all these and more, afford a wide field for this effective, yet easy needlework. For the doylies, fruits and nuts, or table furniture, such as knives And forks, crossed spoons, a teapot, a pitcher, a cup and saucer, etc., are chiefly used. Kate Greenaway pictures are wrought on everything, ana scenes from folk lore or Mother Goose are almost as popdlar.

One of the daintiest bits of art needlework to be seen anywhere is a Bcarf table-cover of olive and garnet .plush. On one end is a branch of snowballs, with raised flowers, first filled in with tephyr until the flower is high enough, then covered with pale green arrasene, and lastly dotted thick-

vly

with the tiny white flowers, each in tour petals of filoselle. Across the other end of the cover is a spray of tulips, red and yellow, somewhat of an anomaly as to their arrangements, since whoever saw a spray of tulips, but perfect as to the flowers and folimage in themselves. Round yellow

:-i

oranges, with white blossoms, decorate another table-cover indeed, there is literally no end of beautiful fancies.

Cards for Calling.

Execrable taste is often displayed in cards used for New Year calls. No gentleman should leave with a lady under any circumstances a pasteboard decorated like a chromo or a comic valentine. The plainer the card always the better. Gentlemen calling together may have their names upon ^necard. /tte,n»wem§y be written

by the gentlemen themteltes «r mgraved. Printed cards are not jjooa for the New Year or any other tune. New Year cards may be too short or too long. To ru?h intoahonse and than rush out again as If pursued by the furies is disrespectful to your

hostr

ess. To atay two or three hours is to make yourself a nuisance. A call of about fifteen minutes the bappy medium.

FOH AND ABOUT WOMEN.

Wemea In Pablie ABUri. Mis. Murray, the wife of Rev. W. H. H. Murray, of Boston, ban just re* turned from Europe with a diploma from the Vienna Medical College, both as physician and surgeon, being, her friends say, the only woman in the country with this certificate.

Miss Emily J. Leonard, of Connecticut, at the woman's congress, reported progress toward men's recognition of the intellectual equality of die sexes. 8ex discrimination has been put an end to in the Yale art school. Women are more generally recognised by scientific associations, and are even ad* mitted as directors.

The advocates of woman suffrage propose to make a formidable demonstration upon congress this winter. Senator L~f?iam and Representative White, of Kentucky, by joint resolutions, i-rop w, to amend the constitution so t!»ai women can vote, and Miss Susan B. Anthony has taken up her headquarters in Washington for the wi oier, with a view of commenclsg an active campaign.

Jiiss Loraine P. Bucklin, of Providence, R. I., is lecturing at the West in parlors. "Pottery," "Art Embroidery," "Jewels—Ancient and Modern," are some of her topics. She is much praised. It is said she has the charm of putting all her subjects in a clear, white light, that takes little color from her own personality. One thinks constantly in her presence of the old saying, "Whatever is good goes like sunshine quietly through the world."

Miss White, a sister of Congressman John D. White, of Kentucky, who is a graduate in good standing of the Michigan College of Pharmacy, recently applied to the Louisville Board of Pharmacy to be registered as an assistant pharmacist. Her application was refused, presumably because she is a woman. The friends of Miss White, as well as those of the Louisville College of Pharmacy, are about to bring the matter to a test in the courts, ana if possible forbid the board make any discrimination on account of sex.

5*4 ZM* --i

Female Fancies,

Ella Wheeler's poetry should be set to music and played by electricity. Chicago girls seldom hang up their stockings the night before Christmas.

Miss Susie Anthony's proposed constitutional amendment is spoken of as the "sweet sixteenth."

Miss Corson has caused a cooking craze on the Pacific coast. This is a blessing for prospective Benedicts.

Theodosia Button iB the name of St. Louis' latest missing maiden. Button, Button, Button, who's got "The," Button?"

Detroit Free Press: "How can a Woman Tell?" is the title of a recent poem. Humph! How can she help telling?

Bonanas Flood's daughter will inherit $35,000,000. She is the sort of Flood that, if taken at the tide, may lead her husband on to a fortune.

When Clara was asked what she would do if a nice young gentleman Bhould ask her hand in marriage, she naively replied: "I don't think I'd no."

Bloomfield Citisen: A little 9-year-old Mrs. Partington, at a recent church wedding, asked: ''Mamma, are all these gentlemen with white boutonnieres the gushers?" '•Fall River Advance: "A young wife's greatest trial" is probably to find out whether it would be proper to starch her husband's shirt all over or only the bosoms and cuffs.

Mr. Blimber asked his wife at the breakfast table the other morning if she had heard of the new theory about the origin of life at the poles. Mrs, Blimber answered that she had not, but from the picturesque appearance of Mr. Blimber's countenance when he came home last election night she judged that the polls were about the liveliest Bpots he had ever struck.

Fact# About "Women.

Mrs. Ole Bull had a beautiful bronse urn placed over her husband's grave, Mrs. Doreas Chapin will endow an hospital at Springfield, Mass., with $25,000.

Minnie Hank has just celebrated the tenth anniversary of her appointment of chamber and court singer to the emperor of Germany.

Miss Jennie Flood, the daughter of the California twenty-millionaire, denies the often repeated story that she is engaged to marry an English peer,

A daughter of Minister Sargent is making a specialty of the eye in her medical studies at Zurich. Miss Sargent iB a graduate of an A meriean college.

Miss Marie Brown, the American authoress, who has devoted herself chiefly to Scandinavarian literature and wit, is about to publish, at Stockholm, under the patronage of King Oscar, a description of Sweden, under the title "The Sunny North."

Miss Blanche Willis Howard, the writer of one of the best novels of the day, is described in a letter from Rome as a "magnificent blonde of generous proportions, with charming eyes, of a hazel cast—such a woman as, one of her admirers recently remarked, men were once wont to fight for in the lists."

Fashion Note*, li" :ii

Very short Jaunty Jacket* of ribbed oloth are fastened tightly over the figure and worn with a vest. If the basques are out much longer they are usually continued very nearly down to the hem oi the skirt.

The Frou Frou cloak Is a new. design after Sarah Bernhardt, and Is both graceful ond fCeentrio. It Is cut like the redlngote at the back with a half adjusted front edged with fur down each side. The high oollarls of fur and a silver clasp fas tens It.

The new mutton-leg sleeves are full at the top and very close below the elbow their beauty Is Increased by making them long and pushing the upper the armholee of the dress.

Pekln velvet with chocolate ground and red satin stripes Is used for the gathered Vest and full skirt of elegant costumes that are completed by a long pelisse of plain brown velvet.

New tunics are festooned on one side along the hips while the opposite side falls In straight folds to the edge of the skirt. Bands of brocaded velvet cross the straight side of camel's halrtunlos arranged In this style.

Colored guipure laces for trimming dresses and mantles are made of the finest silk cord with the pattern outlined in gold, silver or the new copper thread. A high collar and wide wristbands ot this lace are arranged on velvet to wear with a silk dress of the color of the velvet,

A beautiful costume for a young brunette Is of brtok-red Ottoman silk and velvet. The silk basque has a blouse vest of velvet, and the full silk drapery Is made very short by cross-way wrinkles held on each hip by velvet rosettes. The lower skirt Is mainly of velvet but opens toward the front over puffed drapery of the silk.

A tabller of embossed velvet forms nart of plain velvet skirts that are otherwise untrtmmed except with afar border or two sagging puflft around the foot. A short lockey basque of the velvet has DttSk and plastron of the embossed velvet. and the long drapery of the back Is of plain velvet folded In wide plaits, or arranged In a butterfly bow that Is hooked above the end of the basque.

A OonftaMd Clergyman

Chattanooga Time*. An amusing marriage ceremony occurred at Stanley on Sunday. A couple presented themselves, and the minister, somewhat confused, proceeded to unite them. Speaking to the woman he said: "Do you take this man to be your husband?" Ac., and turning to the man, hesaid: "Do «ngt you take this band?" and the

"Yes."

woman to be your husman answered, with

out seeming to know the difference: negro iainy

tuns

This reminds one of the nri

ceremony: "Under this oak in iainy weather I mtrry this won)a9 mdmua

together,*

A LAWYER'S 8T0RY.

am a lawyer, and the adventure I am about to relate befell me some eight or nine years ago. I was struggling hard then to make my way in the world, and gain a good position in my profession.

I had a case intiusted to me which promised to be fall of difficulties, did not doubt of ultimate success, but the matter, was so hedged in by technical embarrasments and nice points of law that my whole time and attention were occupied with it

Some details of

thiB

Blackstone, I was informed, was a small and isolated village, the way to which was across a bleak barren moor. I was told that I was too late to go then, for a fall of snow was imminent, and to be caught on the moors in a snow-storm was a risk too dangerous to be lightly incurred. The next morning I could have both a man and a vehicle to take me whithersoever I might wish.

I listened to these objections with impatience. I had much work on hand, and was anxious to return to London, and I quickly decided that I could not afford the delay. At length, after a good deal of solicitation and persuasion on my part, and a considerable expenditure of argument and protestation on his, mine host oi the "George Inn" reluctantly agreed to let me have a horse. The good man eased his conscience by repeated warn ings and entreaties to defer my journey: but I was strong of limb and stout of heart, and, being furnished with explicit directions as to the route, I set out, mine host and hostesB standing at the inn door and witnessing my departure with many dismal shakings of the head and doleful prognostications.

My horse was a steady-going sort of an animal, and I jogged along comfortably enough. The lights of Clowford soon disappeared, and before long I fond myself on the moors. The wind was piercingly keen and cold, and I buttoned my coat more tightly, and turned up the collar as a protection against it. Twilight had fallen before I left the town, but the stars were twinkling brightly, the way was clear, and I congratulated myself on my recent display of resolution.

Musing on my errand and its probable results, and all the possibilities and contingencies attached thereto, I let my horse pursue his course without much guidance from me.

We had gone, I suppose, about a third of the way, when I awoke to the fact that the darkness was momentarily deepening. I looked about for the cause, and found that the friendly stars had become invisible by reason of a pall of lowering blackness which had overspread the skv. The wind, too, was increasing and blew in fierce, sudden gusts, and presently there came swirling against my cheek a few feathery flakes ef snow. "By jove, the old fellow was right I" I muttered, urging my horse to a gal-

?'he snow came down faster and faster, resting on the brim of my hat, clinging to my coat and covering my beard. Such personal discomfort was bad enough, but I was more concerned at observing that the ground was assuming a bewildering uniformity of whiteness. If the remembrance of the cosy parlor and blazing fire I bad left behind at the "George" made me repent of my temerity lor one moment, I dismissed the reflection the next and kept my eyes employed in searching for landmarks. I had to look out for a sign-post, which, as yet, I had not perceived but the swift, silent downfall of the snow prevented me from seeing far in advance. I kept up my spirits by summing the refrain of some

Itad

ovial German drinking song that I heard when a student at Heidelberg, keeping meanwhile a sharp lookout for the sign-post which was so long In making its appearance,

Suddenly my horse stumbled and fell, pitching me head-foremost into a snowdrift. Beyond a passing giddiness, I was none the worse for the tumble, but the horse, I found, was mortally hurt. What

waB

(85 -*s '»jt. fa»T55 /•-'V

business necessi

tated my takins a journey to the North and late one cold December afternoon I alighted at the station of a moderateBked town in Yorkshire. Clowford was not my destination, but as the train services ceased there, 1 had no choice but to seek some other mode of conveyance to Blockstone, the village for which I was bound. But to meet with one, I found was much more difficult than I had anticipated.

'•*'••'. *J**' ---.

to be done

now? My position was decidedly an unpleasant one—alone in the middle of a wide unsheltered heath, with no habitation that I was ayfare of nearer than the town I had left or the village 0 which I was-journeying.

Well, it would never do to stand still. I must be moving one way or another, though my hopes of reaching my destination that night grew faint indeed. The attainment of a shelter from the bitter inclemency of the weather was just then my chief desire. I heartily wished that I had had a pistol with me, so that I might have put the poor suffering brute out of its misery but I had not, so with great compunction I left it to its fate.

I walked till mv legs ached and my hands grew numbed and insensible to all feeling. The many stories I had read or neard respecting benighted travellers being lost in the snow or falling asleep, to awake on earth no more, recurred to me with unpleasrnt vividness. At last I espied a faint gleam at some distance on my left.

I made my way quickly to the welcome light, which I found, on approaching, proceeded from the window of along rambling building.

Ilie place bad a desolate, forlorn appearance. I did not stop, however, to make a close inspection, Dut knocked at the door with my almoBt-frozen knuckles.

The light moved, and a woman's voice said: "Is that yon, father?" "No," I answered, "I am a stranger. I have been overtaken by the storm, and beg you to give me shelter for the night. "I am sorry," was the startling reply, "but it is impossible!" "Impossible," I repeated, with an impatient kick at the door. "My good woman, you cannot know what you are saying. Why, it is certain death to me to refuse to admit me?"

Some low indistinct words were the only answer my outburst received. For heavens sake," I cried, return ?ng to the attack, "let me in till morning! I want neither food nor drink, only a roof to protect me from the weather."

There was the rattling of a chain, the door was thrown open, and a woman, with her head muffled in a shawl, appeared before me. "I must apologize," I said, as courteously as my chattering teeth would allow, "for my unceremonious request. But you see for yourself what sort of a night it is." "Yes, I see," she returned slowly then reluctantly—"You had better come in." 1 did not stay for a more gracious invitation, but, shaking myself free from the snow which had collected on my outer garments, followed her over the threshold. No sooner was I inside than she shut the door, fastened the chain and slipped a great rusty bolt, and, going to the window, put up a shutter before it

Then Bhe turned to me and said, in iow, hurried tones: "I will give you the shelter yon ask but it will be but a poor and comfortless one, for my father and—and others will be here presently, and they must not find yon here. Yon see that trap door," she continued, pohiting to one in the rude raftered ceiling—"it leads to aloft There you will be safe. I will give you a wrap or two, and, at the wont it is better than being out of men

doors such a dreadful night as this. But you must not in any way betray your presence, and in the morning wait till I let you know it is safe to descend." "Yon may rely upon my prudenoe and carefulness, I returned earnestly.

yJ^'

remark then, pointing to theilre, she said: "Sit down now and warm yourself. You must be nearly perished with the cold."

I obeyed gladly, and, as I stretched out my hands to the ruddy blase, I gated about me curiously, was in a large low kltohen, the walls smokestained, and the floor composed of uneven red bricks. The furniture was of the barest and scantiest—a massive oak table, three or four chairs—and there were a few cooking utensils. "My protectress had disappeared but she speedily returned, bearing a plateful of bread and meat and a tumbler containing a small quantity of brandy. To the spirit she added some boiling water from a kettle which depended from a hook in the huge cavernous chimney, and then set the food and the brandy on the table beside me. "You must need it," she said, when I would have refused the refreshment "Take it at once there is not much time to spare," and she cast an anxious glance towards the door.

She had laid aside the shawl which had hitherto shaded her face, and, ,as I made a hasty clearance of the comestibles with which she had supplied me, 1 regarded her fnrtively. She was but a slender slip of a girl, not more than nineteen or twenty, with fair hair simply braided, a thin colorless face, dark eyebrows and large dark eyes. There was an air of dignity and refinement about her, and I marveled greatly how she came to be in her present situation. During my re' past she was evidently ill at ease, listening and starting at the slightest noise, and it was with ill-concealed relief that she saw me rise from my seat.

After I had mounted into my retreat she handed me up a pillow and a couple of rags, repeating ner injunc ion as to the heed of caution.

When I closed the trap-door, I found mvself in almost total darkness. Appatently the loft was extensive, but empty. The storm continued with unabated fury, and the nipping wind found its way in between the loose tiles, frequently accompanied by a plentifulsprinklingof snow. Altogether it was a dreary, gruesome place. I better off undoubtedly than I

was better on unaouDtealy should have been out on the lonely moor nevertheless it was by no means a pleasant or enviable position for a respectable hard-working lawyer. I rapped the rugs around me, tucked the pillow under my head, and endeavored to make myself as comfortable as possible in the untoward circumstances.

I had begun to doze, when I was aroused by the noisy entrance of a man into the room beneath. Amid the loud talking and boisterous laughter which ensued, I could now and again distinguish the girl's gentler ac cents. These presently ceased, and I imagined that she had retired to rest, for the laughter and conversation became more and more uproarious there was a constant clinking of glasses, and the fumes of tobacco and spirits ascended to my hiding-place. By-and-bv, however. I grew accustomed to these sounds and dropped off to sleep. was tried. I had perfect health and a clear conscience, and I slept on till gray dawn was creeping through the many interstices in the pent roof above me. I listened intently silence reigned below. I became impatient as the moments passed. Every hour was an object to me, and, had I not been restrained by my promise, I should have attempted a descent, let the consequences be what they might—danger appears so much less formidable in tne morning than it does amid the sombre shades of night.

When the suspense had grown almost intolerable there was a gentle tap, twice repeated, at the trap-door, immediately lifted it, and saw standing beneath me the young woman. "Come down," she whispered.

In a few secends I was standing be side her. The room was untenanted save by her but traces of the previous night's orgies were discernible in broken pipeB and empty glasses and bottles. "Drink this," she said, giving me a cup of steaming coffee "and then you must go directly. See—here is some bread and meat for you to eat on your way, and I will give you any directions you may need."

I drank the beverage as desired, almost scalding my throat in doing so but it warmed me, and I felt the better fjrit. "How did you sleep" Were you able to sleep?" she inquired abruptly, as I set down the empty cup. washing me intently as she asked the question. "Sleep? Yes," I answered heartily "I slept the whole night." "And did not the noiBe here disturb you "Not at all. I slept as profoundly as though I had been. In my own bed at home."

Her eyea drooped, and she grew red and white by turns. "And—and you did not care to listen to their conversation? It did not interest you, I suppose?"

Her agitation revealed her fears and I hastened to assure her that I was too wearied to feel interest in anything but my own fatigue. Then I jvould have thanked her, but she interrupted me. "No, no it was the barest act of charity. I would have done more had I been able but I could not. If you are grateful, show it by forgetting the whole occurrence forget that you have ever been here, and, above all, for the love of heaven, do not mention a word about it to a single person.1"

I kept my wonderment to myself, and gave the required promise. •'Now, go," she cried with feverish anxiety—"go, go 1 I am in terror while you remain."

When I had reached the corner of the house I turned round and saw her standing in the door way gazing after me. She waved her hand, as though to hasten my movements, and I, setting my face in the direction she had pointed out, looked back no more.

The storm was. at an end, the wind had sunk, and the sun presently rose causing the brilliance of myriads of diamonds. I stepped out briskly, and in due time and without further adventure arrived at my destination. There I transacted my business in a satisfactory manner, was driven back to Clowford in the afternoon, indemnified the landlord of the "George" for the loss of his horse, eaught the up mail train to town, and the following morning was hard to work again in London.

Two years slipped away and, in the hurry and press of business—for I was rapidly rising in my profession—my adventure on the moors was almost forgotten.

One day, being in the neighborhood of one of our criminal courts, and wishing to see a celebrated Q. C. who would, I knew, be pleading there, I made my way into the court and waited patiently until I could have an interview with my friend.

A case of great public interest was being tried. A gang of bank-note forgers who had long escaped conviction had been captured, and their trial was then proceeding. While I waited, my attention was attracted by one of the spectators—a woman, plainly dressed and closely veiled. She betrayed no emotion but I could perceive that not a single detail or word of the evidence escaped her. It wis evident that her interest in the case was far deeper and more personal than the morbid curiosity that had prompted the presence of many around her.

Yes, I was right In the pale face, swollen with crying, in the dark eyes and fair hair, its smooth bands roughened and dishevelled, I recognized the heroine of my adventure on the moors.

The recognition was not mutual, and Bhe stared at me in indignant rds I

amazement In a few words explained who I was, and added that, in return for the kindness she had once rendered me, I had come to see whether I could not now be of service to her.

At this she burst into a passion of .tears. I waited till her grief had somewhat subsided, and then by de-

on. Something—I know not what—in her bearing touched a chord of memory

Sfc* aocepted'my assurance witkoa^ (within me. Sorely I had seen feer be*

TEBBB HAtFTB EXPRESS. SUNDAY MORNING, DECEMBJ

forel I pondered and reflected, bat could not recollect when or where. Piqued at this freak of memory, when she left the court I quitted it also. She crossed the pavement and entered a cab that was waiting, and obeying a sadden impulse, and forgetful of the appointment with my learned friend, oailed a hansom and desired the driver to keep in the wake of the other vehicle.

After a short drive the oabby stopped in a shabby second-rate street in the neighborhood of Holborn. Jumping out I perceived the object of my pursuit ascending the steps of a house which, from tne fact of a card inscribed with the words "Furnished Apartments to Let" being suspended in the parlor window, I concluded was a lodging house. still obeying the impulse which bad mastered me, 1 took a turn to the end of the Btreet and back again, and then, knocking at the door, requested to see the lady who had jan been admitted. "Miss White, I s'pose you mean?" responded the sluttish servant 1 acquiesced in her supposition. "Drawing-room," was her laconic direction, with a jerk of the thumb towards the staircase.

When I reached the first floor I tapped at the door facing me. There was no response, but the sound of smothered weeping fell upon my ears. I rapped again more sharply. Still there was no answer. I opened the door softly and advanced into the room. A woman lay "on the sofa, sobbing convulsively. The slight noise I had made aroused her. She sprang up, dashing a handkerchief across her

Her father was a man of good family and excellent education, but with an innate predilection for knavery. He was a gentleman by birth, but a rogue by inclination. He had a handsome person and an insinuating address, and he had married a pretty delicate girl, who had been devotedly attached to him. She died broken-hearted when her daughter was about ten years of age. Her love for her husband had never lessened, and on her death-bed she made the girl solemnly vow never to forsake her father, to stand by him in good or ill fortune, and by her influence to endeavor to wean him from bis evil course. Nobly and faithfully had the girl ktpt her word. She had been ever at hij side, unceasing but unsuccessful in her efforts to guide him towards the path of virtue.

He had been in hiding with his confederates when she gave me shelter, and her fears that night had been twofold. She feared for me, lest I Bhould be discovered in which case I suspect —though she never owned to

dread

an anticipation—that my fate would have been decided in accordance with the pithy axiom that "dead men tell no tales." She had also feared that I might suspect who and what they were, and give information to the police. During the interview I gleaned, furthermore, that she was now utterly friendless.

I returned to my chambers, meditating deeply, and the upshot of my cogitations was that on the following day I called upon an old friend, a lady on whose benevolence and liberal warmheartedness I knew I could rely. She had an interview with Ellen White, and took the poor girl home with her,, retaining her first as a visitor and afterwards as a salaried companion, though the relation between them soon grew to be almost tfiat of a mother and daughter.

White and his companions' were sentenced to several years' penal servitude—sentences which the public at large considered they richly deserved.

I do not know when I first began to be beautiful by the vision of a pale face, lighted by large dark eyes and framed in a halo of golden hair. Nor do I know when I first found myself looking forward with pleasant anticipation to frequently returning evenings Bpent in Mrs. Palmer's cosy draw-ing-room.

I was awakened to the truth by a few plainly spoken questions put by my old friend. Half "an nour's sober reflection and communion with my own heart enabled me to answer them as frankly as they had been put. Yes, I did love Ellen White honestly and well, and. her past history notwithstanding, I was truly anxious to make her my wife.

My wooing did not prosper, however. Ellen declined my proposal. She was a felon's daughter' she said, and^inion with her would disgrace me. On that one rock of objection she took her Btand and neither my pleading nor Mrs. Palmer's persuasion could move her from it.

I would not despair "Nil desperandum" had always been my motto and it remained so in this instance. I dropped the question of marriage for a while and returned to our former friendly relations. My patience had its reward in due time. Barely three years of his sentence had expired when George White died. I allowed a decent interval of mourning, then renewed my suit. Ellen's opposition bad become weakened a little judicious persuasion and the victory over her scruples was complete.

A few months later, in a quiet country church, we were married and now no woman in England .could be more beloved or respected than my dear wife Ellen.

PARISIAN IMPOLITENESS.

How Bseorta Are

Women Without Treated In the Streets.

Parisian Letter. The French may be the politest nation in the world, but Frenchmen do not as a rule have that respect for women which is so characteristic of the Americans. It is certain that la dieB whom business or pleasure may force to travel alone meet every where in this "land of gallantry" far more hostility than courteous attention. But this is the least offensive form in which the national want of respect for women shows itself. It is .difficult, tempted to Bay it -is impossible for a lady to go about on foot in the streets of Paris, or in any large town in France, without being exposed to numerous vexatious annoyances and even insults. At certain hours of the day, if a lady ventures out without male protector, the chances are that she will be accosted by some imperti nent fellow before she has taken a dozen steps from her qwn door, and it would be utterly useless for her to appeal for protection taf a passer-by or policeman for this sort of thing would seem to be an accepted custom, and that the gentler sex are regarded as the fairy prey of every street lounger who wishes to pass for a masher in the 'eyes of one or two admiring companions. There area lot of fellowB in Paris who seem to consider themselves as irresistable,and that they have like Caesar, only to show themselves in order to be sure of victory. Another curious thing in this connection is that instead of when a woman is alone being entitled to assistance and protection, exactly the contrary is the case. If a woman goes to a respectable hotel unaccompanied the chances are thatshe willbe refused a room. I can understand that a woman who is accompanied may have a suspicious appearance in the eves of a hotel keeper, the nlembers of that corporation being, as everyone knows, models of virtue, but how they can possibly find everything sus-

state of affairs ie that the level of morality in this countfy is a low one, and that there is, now-a-days, very little respect in France for anything. I can not understand hCw it is that men can forget that is possible for their wives ana daughters to be thus insulted when out alone, and the_ argument so often advanced that it is now-«rdays difficult to tell good women from bad ones, so similarly are they painted and attired. Painted women area distress in the sight of topst men, and yet there area good many inteilligent and honest ones who "toy it on thick" before leaving their boaraoirs, while on the other nand, theito are demi-wondaiena who MTir paint at all.

0EBN FROM THE FLIES.

Elevated' View of the Drswa-A New York Reporter Views the Stage from the Fllee. and has an Interesting Chat

With the Mma Who Works the Clouds. Chicago News. "If you'll come up the ladder with me I'll show yon what a bird's-eye view of a play is like," said the "boss" flyman of one of the leading metropoilitan theaters to a New York Sun reporter. As he flnlsned the words he sprang with an agility that did credit to the name of his occupation, np a perfectly perpendicular stationary ladder, built against the ride of the stage. The reporter followed with less celerity and considerable trepidation till he reached a square hole in the fly gallery. Having climbed through this, which strongly suggested the "lubber's hole" in the maintop of a ship, and stepping out upon a platform, the resemblance was heightened by the wilderness of ropes depending from the ceiling, and twisted round cleats and pins on the front edge of the gallery. "Looks kinder confusedatfirst, don't it?" said the flyman. "Bnt we know every one of these ropes, and can be almost sure of grabbing the right one with our eyes shut Each of these is used in hoisting or lowering a border, or drop, or border light, or chandelier, or ceiling. Look, up above you. There's a pretty good lot of stuff." The reporter gazed up and saw, closely crowded together and extending from the proscenium arch to the back of theatre clouds of canvas and rows of gas jets not then lighted. "Looks rather risky in case of fire starting," be ventured to remark. "Risky! Well, now, if ever a firegets a headway op here I'm going out as quick as I know how. Of course, we have occasional bits of blazes that the publie knows nothing about A border will get caught in a light, but we pull it to one side and stamp it out, and we have fire extinguishers and water buckets bandy. The great danger is in the constant beat during a performance. The temperature then up there over the borders isn't far short of 100 degrees, and ropes and canvas get like so much tinder. Electric light is going to be a great thing for stage use. I worked this summer in Haverly's theater, Chicago, and there all the border lights ate Edison's incandescent. There is scarcely any heat from them, and absolutely no danger, for if a globe is broken the carbon instantly goes out. No, there is no risk from wires crossing, bec&UBe whenever the current gets too Btrong a fusible plug melts and the connection is broken. We shall have 'em by and by everywhere. Bankin's new theater is so fixed and also the Bijou in Boston. "There's the curtain earning it'll be up in a minute. Now look over the edge and see what it's like to have people acting under your feet. Seems as if they didn't have any bodies, and as if their heads grew out of their feet, don't it?"

This singular effect was certain! noticeable when the performers stoo directly under the edge of the gallery, but as the,',' strode out upon the stage all manner of strange effects in foreshortening were observable. And the gestures seemed strained and ridiculous. "Havo you ever noticed the shapes of the tops of people's heads?" inquired the flyman.. "I'll bet, you havn't. You think ther'e oval, because you rarely have a chance of looking right down at them. Just take a peep and see. What are most of them? Pearshaped, ain't they, with the narrow part in front? I can tell you it's a man of very strong brain who has anything like an oval-shaped head. 'Women's heads?' well, we don't get much chance to see what they're like they nearly always wear wigs, even when they've plenty of their own hair, because it isn't so easy to dress and keep in order as a wig. They make a big mistake. Do you remember Mrs. Boucicault, and how pretty she used to look with her hair plainly banded and coiled Excuse me a minute—change of scene."

The flyman and his assistants stood in readiness at certain ropes, and at a signal from the prompter some hoisted the border which had represented the ceiling of a palace, while others lowered the perforated foliage of arched and interlacing trees, the changes being made simultaneously. "I suppose you get very familiar with most of the standard plays," said the reporter. ''Pretty well with the legit., but these modern society plays are hard ones. All the interiors are now set with ceilings, and we can't see a bit of what is going on. Besides, these ceilings give us a great deal of extra work, each having at least three lines to it. Some are very elaborate. The one in the 'Parisian Bomance,' for instance, is in about ten pieces, each of which miters at a different angle, and is worked by a line rove over a pulley up there intheBigging loft. We got to be pretty fair judges of acting, though, and some of the boys can spout Stokespere by the yard. I know a flyman who once 'threw the line' to a noted tragedian who had 'stuck' when the prompter was off somewhere seeing about some lights. I'll bet those words sounded like an angel's voice from the clouds to the fellow who wanted them. He treated all the boys afterward. The stars are, for the most jart, pretty liberal to the boys, especially if they play a good engagement. We don always have tne same ideas about what makes good acting as the critics have. Now if you were to ask any old flyman thro' the country whose 'Ham let' be thought best, do you know what he'd say?". "Booth's." "Bight you are, but do you know why?" "Because it is the best "No, because he gets through eight minutes earlier than any of the others."

AFire Dog's Heroism.

New Tork Journal. Among the unpublished heroes of the Windsor theater was Christian Johnston's dog, who went up in blase of glory. Frits was a big Newfoundland, a great pet in the Hartmann hotel, next door to the theater. He was in love with his master's daughter, little Julia, four years old. They were always together. The dog slept at the foot of her bed by night, and she was never out of his sight. He saved her life twice before the destruction of the Windsor. She would have been drowned off Coney Island last summer had it not been for Fritz. Little Julia innocently ran out to meet an incoming wave. The dog saw the danger his little mistress courted, and dashed after her, bringing her to land before the receding wave could drag her out Again the child was entrusted to a green German lad to be taken to a dime museum. Frits went along also. The boy carelessly dropped the boy before the feet of galloping Third avenue street car horses. Fritz bounded on the track between the horses and Julia, and the child was snatched from danger by a gentleman.

No wonder, then, that Fritz was treated more as a member of the Johnston family than as a dependent, and ate his meals at the same table in the dining-room with them. He could do everything but talk and use a knife and fork. When the cry of "fire" startled the lower end of the Bowery's tranfient and regular population, Fritz was awake. He barked lustily, for the door was shut upon himself and Mr. Johnston's daughter. In the hurry Julia had been overlooked. Butaoiekly them imring face flashed upon father and mother, and the low of anguih spread over their features will ever be remembered by the onlookers. The parents searched through all the group, that stood around visaing the scene with that awe that bloodred flamea fringed with dense blade smoke, always inspire. But no Julia answered their frenzied call, .by this

188.'

time the police line had been formed, and all who might have been of service were driven back indiscriminately with the obtrusive sight-secern." "Oh, save my Julia!" cried the heartsick father, while the mother lay fainting in his arms.

r'Too

late now," said the nearest

policeman, "no one wonld dare to enter that furnace." The offioor spoke trully no one wonld. The heat was nnenduroble within forty feet of onter wall.

At this moment the wind blew away the smoke from the hotol entrance, and the flames lighted up the heroic deed. Down through the fiery ballway came a singed something on four legs, holding in his mouth a senseless something else. It was Frits bearing alia. How-the dog opened the bed100m door will never be known. Bnt he brought the child safely through death to her father, who was now weeping for Joy. When he dropped his bundle gently at his master's feet ehe was alive ana soon recovered.

But the dog! The policeman aaw the dog inside the fire line, and rushed at him with extended club. From the other side, toward which Fritz turned to flee, darted another policeman, bent on some kind of mission. The dog saw that he was hemmed in, and that there was no escape from being clubbed to death. 5

Yes, there was one. And the dog chose it! Back into the fiery furnace he flew, with the officers just behind. Not hesitating, the dog gave one howl and then disappeared in an ocean of flame. The fire waxed hotter and hotter, the walls fell, and amid a great whirlwind of flame and smoke the faithful animal yielded his life.

There is one blessed, rapturous as surance that comes to the man of family like a winged messenger from heaven at this season of the year, and that h. the blessed, rapturous assurance that Christmas comes but once a year.

Stephen W. Dorsey is still defying the lightning in New Mexico. If the lightning knew Mr. Dorsey as well aa we do, it would let him severely alone. However, Mr. Dorsev is probably safe enough in his exhibition of audacity, as it never rains in New Mexico.

The state legislators will soon assemble, with their pockets stuffed with bills for passage, and other bills they should have paid before leaving home.

1884.

Harper's Magazine.

IUI_iXJSTR,A.Ta5r). ii

Harper's Magailne begins Its sixtyeighth volume with the December Number. It Is the most popular Illustrated periodical In America and England, always fully abreast of the times in Its treatment of subjects of current, social and Industrial Interest, and always advancing Its standard of literary, artlstlo, and mechanical excellence: Among its attractions for 1881 are: a new serial novel by William Black, illustrated by Abbey a new novel by E. P. Roe, Illustrated by Gibson and Dielman descriptive illustrated papers by George H. Boufjbton, Frank D. Millet, C. hT Farnham, and others Important historical and biographical papers: short stories by W. D. Howells, Charles Seade, etc.

HARPER'S TERIODICALS.

Per Year:

HARPER'S MAGAZINE 00 HARPER'S WEEKLY.. 4 00 HARPER'S BAZAR.. 4 00 HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE 1 60 HARPER'S FRANKLIN SQUARE

LIBRARY, One Year (52 Nambers)...10 00 Postage Free to all subscribers in the United States or Canada.

The volumes of the Magazine begin with the Numbers for June and December of each year. When no time is specified, it will be understood that the subscriber wishes to begin with the current Number.

The last Eight Volumes of Harper's Magazine, In neat clotft binding, will be sent by mall, post paldv on receipt of (3.00 per volume. Cloth Cases, for binding, 60 cents each—by mail, postpaid.

Index to Harper's Magazine, Alphabetical, Analytical, and Classified, for Volumes 1 to 60, inclusive, from June, I860, to June, 1880, one vtfl., 8vo, Cloth, 84.00.

Remittances should be made by PostOfflce Money Order or Draft, to avotd chance of loss.

Newspapers are not te copy this advertisement without the express order of Harper & Brothers. Address

HARPER A BROTHERS, New York.

J.F.McCANDLESS,

Dealer In all grades of hard and soft ooal,

BRAZIL BLOCK, BLOCK NUT, and BITUMINOUS

O O A

WOOD AND COKE.

Office, 18 and 20 Sooth Third Street

(Telephone Connection.)

CHOICEI

GROCERIES

-AND

Fresh Country Produce

-AT-

J.F.ROEDEL,

X. K. Cor. of First and Ohio Sta.

L. F. PERDUE,

Dealer in ICE, Hard ana Soft COAX, Long and Short WOOD.

OFFIOB:

26 North Sixth Street. W. H. HASLET,

18 South rtttb Street,

Pay* a liberal prion

tot

oaovtiff uiuthlng.

COAI

BITUMINOUS

I. H. V.

«Woa matte

St Charles Hotel.

MT QOOD A CCOlCBtODATIOMb

or BATES REASONABLE.

K. V. 8TUKKARD, Prop*r,

M. Ofcf. .M WaNrt. ThM M.

STAR LAUNDRY,

NO. 677 1-3 MAIN STREET.

Shirt, Collars, CiSi Lace Cirtain, DONE UP EQUAL TO NKV. and InUtl fuUi|l Ittll

WE STILL HATE SOME OF THAT CHOICE

WESTERN LAND

Large Stock Ranches, Well Improved Farms, Finely Selected Sections

BARGAINS FOB CAPITALISTS.

10BEN. BLANCHAED,

•,-i-S "v Y-. Y: "VY Y'Y"'

630 Main Street, Terre Haute, Indiana.

To Reduce Stock

WE ARE OFFERING

PARLOR SUITS at COST!

CALL AND BE CONVINCED.

J. R. Fisher's Bargain Stores.

W.S. GLIFT. J. H. WILLIAMS, J. VL

CLEPT, WILLIAMS & CO,

•AMOTAGTUBlkS Of

SASH, DOORS, BLINDS, &c.

AHS DIALSBB Dl

Lumber, Lath, Shingles, Glass, Faints, Oils and Builders' Hardware. KULBBBBY STBBBT, OOB. JHURTH, TBBBB HAUTH, UTD,

A C. COMBS,

DBALSB IN ALL GBADB8 OF HABD AND SOFT COAL, BRAZIL BLOCK, BLOCK NUT, AND

WOOD AND COKE.

ALL ORDERS OF 25 CENTS AND UPWARDS PROMPTLY FILLED. OFFIOB. 1M SOUTH THIRD BTBRR, at ST. OHABI.W HOTEL, (Telephone fconnectlon.)

Phoenix Foundry a Machine Works

ESTABLISHED, 1866. INCORPORATED, 18*0* Muraiactorwn and Deikn in Erurjthiiig Relating to

Machinery Power, Cast and Wrought Iron Work.

BEPAmure

Attorney at Law,

No. 503 1-2 MAIN STREET.

H. BARTHOLOMEW. W. H. HALL.

BARTHOLOMEW & HALL.

Dentists.

OFFICE:—Southwe»t corner Sixth and Ohio etreeta, over Saving• Bank. Kn trance on Ohio itreet.

Dr. W. C. Eichelberger, OCULIST and AURIST,

Boom IS, Savings Bank Building,

TKRRK HAUTB, INDIANA.

Omoi Horn:-* to 12 a. m., and from 1 to 6 p. m.

BIS. KICUKMMI ft VU V1LZ1I,

•Dentists,,

Office, S. W. Cor. Fifth and Main Sts.

ENTRANCE ON FIFTH BTRBET.

Communication by telephone. Nitron* Oxide Oas administered.

SAVE YOUR EYES!

Terre Haato, Mim, Ey Irtrawry. Diu R.D. HAi*T,of N.T., lateof Trenton, Mo., wad

DR.J. DCTWBAR,of

PROMPTLY ATTENDED TO

IIS to 28& North Ninth Street, Near Union Depot, Terre Haato. lad

PROFESSIONAL CARDS.

BOVSE,

St. Lonle,

late of Winchester, Mo., Proprletora.

Will treat all dlMasmo! the eye ten day* free of chance If ample satisfaction not given. Office and rooms, 139 South Third Street, opposite St. Charles Hotel, where one of as can be consulted at all honrs during the day. City referencesJ. T. Mustek, druggist, next door to poetoffloe N. H. J^cFerrin, dealer In acrloultural implements, west side PtibllcSquare Hiram Foolta, grocer. Oof. First and Main.

FARMERS, ATTENTION!

Save Yow Feed.

FEED STEAMEB,

ju*t the thing for Farmers or Dairymen.

R0MAIN A DAILY FEED STEAMER

be seen at Fonts A Hunter1* livery ruble, or at oorner of Seventh and PopJm streets. It w»U yon money-call and

WILL YOU'

"Catch On!"

Men's Sewed Brogans,$1.25i Men's Fine Sewed Button, $2.00. Men's Calf Boots, $2.50. Men's Kip Boots, $2.00 Boy's Brogans, 50 Cents. Boy's Kip Boots, $1.50. Women's Fine Buttoned Shoes $ 1.50. Women's Lace Shoes, $1.00. Misses' Fine Button Shoes, $1.00.

All goods are Marked Down to Make a Clean Sweep, to Close Business. We dont Brag or Blow but win substantiate all we advertise, so come along and bring your families, we can save you from 95 oents to 1.00 on a pair of Boots.

Good* Warranted as Bepreseated or Money Refunded.

Tours Truly,

Daniel Reibold,

Cor. Third and Main Sts.,

TERRE HAUTE, IND....

J. H. MtraCK ft BMiKFS'

Billiard and Pool Tables,

Of all slses, uew and second-hand.

All Kinds of Billiard Material

To be had the same price aa per

BRUNSWICK and BAJLKE A OO.'S PRICE-LIST,

In Terre Haute.

JACOB MAY, Agent.

R. DTOCAN & Oa Wholspsle Dealers in

Paper, r-

Paper Bags,

Stationery,

.-A

•V

CLIFT

.X"'

OOAL

COKES BOGEBS.

8UCOBMOB TO

TUKKE INP-

Twines, Etc.

No. 628 MAIN STREET

T. ). PATT0N & CO.,

jC'

DKALEKa IN

Oholoe

Southdown Maf*"*

rfourthaao