Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 26 May 1889 — Page 2

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BIB'S WEEKLY BRIGHT BABBLE

Some of the New York Woman Visit Fortune Tellers.

WHAT THEY FIND OUT ABOUT THEIR FUTUBES.

Edwin Booth to bs a Father of Thirteen Children—What. is a Popular Man

Special Correspondence ol the Express. NEW YORK, May 13.—The desire is strong with the average woman of today to have her fortune told. One may be a grandmother, etlll the interest in the fortune-teller never waxes or wanee. The "divinity which doth hedge about a king" is nothing as compared with that which eurrounds the woman who can look into the future. I was one of a party last week who west to have their fortunes told. I was promised a hand some husband, coming from over the sea, with great wealth, and that I would be the mother of thirteen sons, each of whom would be a genius in his way. The "in his way" struck me as being very funny, for out of the thirteen in prospect I thought one might have a genius for picking pockets, and another for making patent medicines, while the genius of the latt of the lot might chow itself in writing up prize fights for the newspapers. ,/The foi tune teller herself was a joy forever. Grievous as it sound?, must confess that she more than merely "inclined to embonpoint." She was fat distinctly so. She had on a low-necked frock of block velvet, and around her neck a gold chain on which was suspended a mysterious pendart that looked like a baby mummy. Around the bottom of her-frock was worked, in gilt thread, crescents and stare, and occasionally a skull and crops bones. To add to the cheerfulness of the situation the room wis hung in blaok, and aa we stood, with orecpa goiDg up our backbones, two curtains swuDg aside and we Baw the child of de6tiny, for so she called herself, seated in a large armchair on a dais, with a pack of cards in one hand and a wand in the other. She waved it in the air and said, in lovely, theatrical tones, "Approach, fair maiden." As two of us were married and two widows we hardly knew how to accept the invitation, but one of the widows who felt her composure gradually sinking to her French heels, did go forward.

She didn't get much for her quickness, as she was told she would marry a dark man who would be cruel to her that she would have one child, a daughter, who would marry a crowned head the brutal husband would die a frightful death, making the sweet wife a widow before she was 25. As she was 29 on her last birthday, and has been a widow for six years, this didn't seem to fit in with her

beautiful Bbwef^.stage tone, "Alas! 'tie true," and the widow retreated. The next dip inti the future told a young married woman, the mother of the loveliest twins that ever cried for a woolly dog, that she would never marry, but would leavA a beaut'ful life dedicated to good works! It was also added that she would leave all of her fortune, warranted t) be very great, to help indigent old maids.

Being possessed of abnormal curiosity, I announced myself as willing to pay a dollar more to have a picture of the father of those thirteen boys. At first she said it would be difficult to produce this, and wanted two dollars, but he was worth only a dollar to me and I declined to give any more. So she rang the bell and a oolored girl in a low-necked frock made of blue serge, and made in what might be oalled a Greek design, was told to bring in a certain box. It came, and from it was extracted a picture which was handed to me. The father of my thirteen boys is Mr. Edwin Booth. I am sure he will be oharmed to know thie, and unless that woman told a tarradiddle, I am foroed to believe that the falsa direct that this shall happen. I asked her if she knew who the picture was, and she said yes, but Bhe oould not tell anything except that he would oome across the sea and greet me when I least expected it. I earnestly hops it won't be some night at the theater when he is playing Hamlet, for it might prove very embarrassing. In fact, I think I shall give up going to see Mr. Booth. Although the truth may have been told, I don't think it fair to drag htm into suoh a complication to oblige that dreadful old woman. But undoubtedly I am fated to get him. I dropped a quarter in the slot down at Coney island a year ago to obtain a picture of my future husband, and Mr. Booth was then to the fore, so I do not dare to say what may happen.

In a curious old.book ths other day I found a story about Louis XIV. having his fortune told. The man to whom he went with Madame de Maintenon was a priest, who had no idea of the people who were before him. He burned perfumes, offered prayers, and with loud invocations adjured the powers of hell to answer him. A wild Bound pervaded the whole building, and while visions seemed to be flitting to and fro he drew the horoscopes. He promised Louis that he should suooeed in all his undertakings, and that upon the very day on which he epoke the words one of Jjis children had been oalled to the inheritance of an immense fortune. Then he gave him a small package wrapped in a parchment and said: "The day in which you form the fatal resolution of acquainting yourself of the contents of this package will be the last of your prosperity but if you desire to oarry your good fortune to the highest pitch, be careful upon every great festival—that is to say, Easter Whitsunday, the Assumption, and Christmas—to plunge a pin into this talisman, so that the point shall pass directly through it obeerve this and you will live perfectly happy." The king accepted the fatal present and swore never to open the package. Sometime after he got news that on that very October 2 J, 1700, the king of Spain had left Poilip of France, his successor and heir, an enormous inheritance as the astrologer had predicted. Talking after this to the great Boesuett about magio and sorcery, the king told him about it, and the punishment imposed upon by his spiritual adviser was, that he should show his contempt for the taliamanio properties of the parohment package by opening it at once. The king didn't fanoy this at all. but aa he had begun to grow very fearful he obeyed the command and opened the

mi*ic parcel. It contained nothing bat a consecrated wafer, pierced through with aa many pins as there had been saints'daya innoe it had been received. The king was filled with great remoree and consternation, from which it waa a long time before he recovered, and he underwent many severe penanoea and fsBtings before he felt himself relieved from the weight of his crime. Bat this was only the commencement of the trouble. To thoee in the secret of this affair it was known that the monarch lost from that time as many male descendants in a direct line as he had stuck pinB in the holy wafer. It seems curious to think that the

religious

Maintenon would allow Louis to do such a frivolous thing as to attempt to look into the future, but it only goes to show that from Eve to Marie Bsshkirtseff, with all the noted women between, a desire to know what they oughtn't has been the ruling passion of their lives.

There baa been here a email exhibition of pastels, and evsrybody who has gone to see them has been oharmed at the way in which the soft, velv»ty looking tones bring out the charm of a pretty woman'sface, and make sweeter looking the one whose beauty is only of the heart. Pastel painting is essentually feminine, and it is quite easy to understand that Pompadour and Du Barri and all the nympha of Watteau wanted to go down to posterity in just such a way. Childe Hassem seems to have done thd best work in the collection now here. His groups of pretty women at the French races, and the head of a women with a saucy face crowned by a sailor hat, being most delight'ul to look at. They are the sort of pictures you could live with not like most of those exhibit ed at the American artists' this season, where even the Venuses look as if they had the grippe and had blown their noses until they were too red and no powder was handy.

Personally I have great affection for a picture that looks as if it might be your companion by day and be a cheerful memory at night.

The world is full of lovely things— women, children, flowers, and beautiful scenes by land and see, so why can't the artists give us reproductions of them, instead of straining every nerve to paint masculine Venuses, feminine Apollo?, and "fat boy" Cupids? It makes one wish they were no longer gods of Olympus. The finest collection of pastels in the world is at Dresden, and in that collection is the original of the chocolate girl, the picture that has become so famous a? an advertisement. How many people know that this is a pastel? American women are so Frenchy-looking and dress in such a pictureeque way, that undoubtedly every one who has come out bard-looking in an oil painting will have herself made herself in the softcolored pencils.

Somebody who has jmt had a crest discovered for them—somebody whose crest ought to be a piece of rope with a miniature man dangling at the end of it has it stamped on their ic9d creams, which are served in tiny gold boats! All it could suggest was that the grandfather of the host sailed away in .* boat, leaving his country for his country's good.

The extremely fashionable parasol to be used at the seaside|or at the mount ains is the moct unique Japanese o. that can be gotten. On top must be tied a large black ribbon bow, the ends of which come far down on the parasol when it is opened. It really looks very pretty when worn with a cotton gown, and mikes a

parasol is also in vogue, Ana is of plain, heavy silk, with a natural wood handle. One having a silver handle is voted extremely bad form. The very pronounced liking for red is thought to be the outcome of the general woman's disposition. Lining her coat with scarlet, wearing a scarlet frook, having a scarlet parasol, and wearing a scarlet bonnet is tbe nearest she can get to painting the town red, which from her youth up she has always had a yearning to do.

Somebody said not long ago that a certain man was sure to succeed in something because be was so popular. It started the question in my mind as to what constituted a popular man. Close study has taught me this much:

A popular man is one who is always ready 1 take a drink, but doesn't get drunk.

A popular man is one whose clothes are always in good style and look well, but are not offensively fashionable or aggressively new.

A popular man is one who shakes hands with the bar-k eper, who inquires after the family of the waiter, who buys an apple from the woman on the corner and pays her 5 cents more than she charges for it.

A popular man is the one that doesn't forget that you have got a pretty wife, and when he is talking about women and speaking about somebody who is goodlooking, says, "But she doesn't compare with your wife, John."

A popular man is one who will listen to a tale of woe from a woman 45 years of age, not mind her crying, pat her on the shoulder and advise her to be "a good girl."

A popular man is one who sends your baby a birthday present, who remembers you when he has got a couple of theater tickets he don't want, and who speaks to you no matter how shabby you look, or who he may be with.

A popular man ia the concentrated essence of sympathy. He has a smile for everybody's joy, and words ot condolence for everybody's sorrow.

Feel it? It doesn't matter whether he feels it or not, my friend, it's manners make the man and, more than any other, the popular man. BAB.

Fount! a Natural Turkish Bath. While some men were at work near the Crystal Lime company's kilnB, three miles south of Salida, Colo., digging a well, they ran into something unusual. When down 8bout sixty feet it became quite warm, and they dug a litMe more, when an opening appeared.

Upon investigation it proved to be a cave, with apartments similar to the rooms in a house. The first cave is about twenty feet long and ten feet wide, and the ceiling about ten feet high. The men had been in the cave only a few minutes when they became uncomfortably warm, the Bweat rolling off them in drops.

The place where the well is being dug is the same gulch down which the veins to the Wellsville hot springs run, and the intense heat in the cave is accounted for on the ground that it is in close proximity to the veins of these springs. The walls and oeiling are said to be smooth as if someone had made them.—{Denver Times. r~

Intent on Gain.

At Saarbrucken the bones of the German soldiers that fell in the battle of August, 1870, were exhumed for the purpoee of removal to a national cemetery south of tbe city. Disgraceful ecenee occurred. The crowd robbed the open graves of teeth and small bones, and sold them as relics. The soldiers finally drove every one away from tbe spot.

A TALK TO JUNE BRIDES.

f£-

HarrUit Pmeatt Spofford's Wis* Words to Young' Women About to Harry,

DO OUR Q[RLS UNDERSTAND MARRIAGE

What Does the Wedding Mean for the Average Girl?

[Copyright, 1890, by tbe Bolt Syndicate Frees, Mew York.} It is one of the coincidences of nature that when the high tide of life fiushee every bough, when theeaith is all afo&m with blossom, and sunshine is at the full in the heavenp, that life is at the high tide also in the human heart, and that then, as if he remembered tbe firat lovers in the Garden of Eden, the lover most of sen chooses June as the season in which to lead home his bride. v'

June with its sunbeams, its south wind?, its garlands, its green woods, is tbecouatry through which the bride gofs to take possession of her kingdom in her lover's heart and life. The earth offers a velvet sward for her feet to tread the apple tree spreads wide its brooding boughs like hovering mother wings, and drops the rosy snow of flower-petals in a veil about her the wine of joy is at hei lips, and she goes forth into her new life tj the estate of a happiness surpassing speech, to the sweetest and moet honored name of wife, to reign and to serve, to lose her life and find it in another'.?, to be, although now she may not dream of it, aa entirely other from her old self as tbe earth is other than the maiden moon.

We look at her as she "dhadows her beauty in wh'ts veils" and moves along with her court, with her blushes and her smiles, the glisten of her silken robes, the glimmer of her lace, as if she were but the feature of a lovely pageant, as if she were a pictorial effect for the pleasuring of our eyes. We do not realize the solemnity, the sweet awfulness of the sight, and that we behold a sacrament in which the Lord of Life himself bears part as much as when essential force firtt evolved visible shape and spirit tooU on matter.

Does the young bride, among her cloud of maiden?, realize all this herself? Are her thoughts with the great mystery which is about to absorb her life into another's? Or do the weighty matters of her paraphernalia, of her wedding giftp, of her train, of the church processional, the tithe of the mict and anise and cummin, exclude perception of the way into that new sphere just closing about her, in which she shall walk to all outside view the same, but in reality another b9ing, although she may never be aware of it till she ha9 reached the faither boundary? Has she, as Maria Mitchell ussd to say, allowed the infinitesimals to shut out the infinits? Is she losing the great meaning of marriage, that type of all perfection, that stats and conditio hich is a cosmos in itself, through Vcn the vast currents

individual in relation not only to the race, but to all the univeree of being, from the first sponge that ever built its frame to the last and ficeat of humanity?

Let us believe that the bride mo6t like a butterfly among them all understands something of tie great miracle. It can only be then with the reverence due the celebration of some mystery of old, where oce draws near the ancient of ancient?, that the bride approaches the altar, whether it be the altar of the church or the equally consecrated altar of her father's house and home—an altar that bums to heaven with the white flame of all pure love and devotion and glRdaees, or else on which is to be offered the bleeding sacrifice of broken hearts and lives.

Full often consciousness of this betrays itself by the trembling tones in the vow that invokes invisible powers to witness the bridal and quite as often the consciousness of it is so appalling that all the nervous Btrenght is summoned to carry off the hour triumphantly, and emotion from the curious crowd that custom calls into the eolemn acts of lives, to the bridal and the burial riteB, the two moments when feeling is at its most intense and should be most sacred and unseen.

Yet because.the occasion is supreme it does not follow that the beautiful frippery with which we are wont to surround it is frivolous or out of place. It would have its use if it were for nothing else than to draw the fire of eyes from tremors and tears and self-revelstion. Yet since time began tbe wedding has been a thing of splendor. "He has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels," says the Hebrew poet, whose name for the bride is "the perfected one," and with whom the word signifying the bridegroom's ornaments signifies also the "garments for glory and beauty" worn by the high priest when robes of white linen were worn by all priests. It is fitting that everything that can symbolize innocence and purity and add to grace and loveliness and lustre should be about the bride that she should wear the multitudinous lilac the ever flowering orange that the altar should be wreathed with the apple boughs that droop about the doors of home that she should pass splendid as a vision, only the cynic sayirg, like a lamb dressed for the offering but the lover, the sympathizer, and all they who believe in the beauty of holiness, in the joy of sacrifice, in the under-heaven of married love, in the vital union with God there, saying as the altar itself is dressed in flames and flowers and snowy drapery, as any monarch is approached in robee of state, as all noble ceremonial is made pictorial and beautiful.

If in her soul there is another altar where the sacrificial fire is ever burning if she has said to her beloved, meaning it as one means an oath: "Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm, for love is Btrong as death if she has remembered also that "jealousy is cruel as the grave if she has sworn absolute self-surrenoer and abnegation and IOES in her beloved if she gives thanks for strength and fineness and fire and tenderness in him, thanks that so greet a fatehBs been given her as that of entering into the circle of his days, into the loftines3 of his spirit, into the beauty of his being, then let what will come in all her length of davs, her life will be one long bridal, and though bitter waters of affliction pass over her head, she will know that many wateri cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it Bhe will feel that neither teasing trouble, nor want, nor pain, nor weariness, sharp thrusts or heavy blowa,

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