Greenfield Evening Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 17 April 1895 — Page 4
.. A Mce Ottice. Dr. N. P. Howard, Jr., ca-i now be fouud in Lis new office No. 14£ West Main street over the Citizens' Bank and desires to aminuu- to ins friends that he c.to be fwi'iu! at tlie office at all hours unless ron-ssioiially engaged. We were shown tlir..null the office a.d found that ii was very conveniently Mi-ruimed and ins nil the utesr, niprovtnsei:t for surwi'i'ir. "t:i. Tno I'liii'c i- iniu. throughout vitii antique nk furait'
Auy one desiru^ livery rigs of iiiij kind can ave their orders at. the hardware stoiv ot Thomas & Jeffries and the rigs will t'e sen' around promptly from the Fashion Liverv Stable of Jeffries & Son. Gcoci guaraut- ed
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G.U FiTTIM! A ^PFCiAMV.
DR. MAM-O-Wfl.
THE HERB SPECIALIST
., CHRONIC DISEASES
Will beat his office in Greenfield on Fridays and Saturdays of each week, pre
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BEWARE OFIMITATLONS.
"Siio was with diaries westmacott on the lawn not very long ago. He seems very fond of her. He is not very bright, but I think he will make her a good husband." "I am sure of it, papa. He is very manly and reliable." "Yes, 1 should think that he is not the sort of man who goes wrong. There is. nothing hidden about him. As to his brightness, it really does not matter, for his aunt, Mrs. Westmacott, is very rich —much richer than you would thinks from her style of living—and she has made him a handsome provision." "I am glad of that." "It is between ourselves. I am her trustee. and so I know something of h'~r arrangements. And when are you going to marry, Clara?" "Oh, papa, not for some time yet. We have not thought of a date." "Well, really, I don't know that there is any reason for delay. He has a competence, and it increases yearly. As long as you are quite certain that your mind is made up'' "Oh. papa!" "Well, then, I really do not know why there should be any delay. And Ida, too. must be married within the next few months. Now. what I want to know is what I am to do when my two little companions run away from me." He spoke lightly, but his eyes wore grave as lie looked questioninglv at his daughter. "Dear papa, you shall not be alone. It will be years before Harold and I think of marrying, and when we do you must come and live with us." "No, no, dear. I know that you mean what you say, but I have seen something of the world, and I know that such arrangements never answer. There cannot be two masters in a house, and yet at my age my freedom is very necessary to me." "But you would be completely free." "No, dear, you cannot be that if you are a guest in another man's house. Can
you suggest no other alternative?" "That we remain with you." "No, no. That is out of the question. Mrs. Westmacott herself says that a woman's first, duty is to marry. Marriage, however, should be an equal partnership, as she joints out. I should wish you both to marry, but still I should like a suggestion from you, Clara, as to what should do." "But there is no hurry, papa. Let tis vait. I do not intend to marry yet.'
Dr. Walker lookied disappointed. "Well, Clara, if you can suggest nothing, I suppose that I must take the initiative myself," said he. "Then what do you propose, papa?" She braced herself as one who sees the blow which is about to fall,
He looked at her and hesitated. "How like your poor dear mother you are, Clara," he cried. "As I looked at you then it was as if she had come back from the grave." He stooped toward her and kissed her. "There, run awav to your sister, my dear, and do not trouble yourself about me. Nothing is settled yet, but you will find that all will come right."
Clara went up stairs sad at heart, for she was sure now that what she had feared was indeed about to come to pass, and that her father was going to ask Mrs. Westmacott to be his wife. In her pure and earnest mind her mother's memory was enshrined as that of a saint, and the thought that any one should take her place seemed a terrible desecration. Even worse, however, did this marriage appear when looked at from the point of view of her father's future.
The widow might fascinate him by her knowledge of the world, her dash, her strength, her unconventionality—all these qualities Clara was willing to allow her—bnt. she was convinced that she would br unendurable as a life com panion. She had come to an age when hab-
its are ncit li'. '!nTv to be changed, nor was she a woman who was at all likely to attempt to chang" them. How would a sensitive man like her father stand the constant strain of such a wife, a woman who was ail derision, with no softness and nothing soothing in her nature?
It pass,-.! as a mere eccentricity when they heard of her stout drinking, her cigarette smoking, her occasional whiffs at a long clay pipe, her horsewhipping of a drunken servant and her companionship with the snake Eliza, whom she was in the habit of bearing about in her pocket. AH this would become unendurable to her father when his first infatuation was past. For his own sake, then, as well as for her mother's memory, this match must be prevented. And yet how powerless she was to prevent itl What could she do? Could Harold aid her? Perl laps. Or Ida? At least sho would tell her sister and see what sho could suggest.
Ida was in her boudoir, a tiny little tapestried room, as neat and dainty as herself, with low walls hung with Imari plaques and with pretty little Swiss brackets bearing blue Kaga ware or the pure whito Coal port china. In a low chair beneath a red shaded standing lamp sat Ida in a diaphanous evening dress of mousseline de soie, the ruddy light tinging her sweet childlil ice md glowing on her golden cml She sprang up as her sister entered and threw her arms around her.. mo poacocK is round In a wild state in India, Ceylon, Madagascar and many other parts of Asia and Africa.
In cach wing of the ostrich 26 long Whlto plumes grow to maturity in eight months. In the male these aro pure white, While those of the femalo shade to ecru or gray.
SUB!
WIWU333 8Y AUfHORS /UUANCf .All
RIGHTS
fifSERVED
I
She pushed forward his chair and ran to fctcli hia slippers.
"Dear old Clara! Come and sit down here beside me. I have not had a chat for days. But. oh, what a troubled face! What is it then?" She put up her forefinger and smoothed her sisters brow with it. •.
Ciara pulled up a stool, and sitting down beside her sister passed her arm round her waist. "I am so sorry to trouble you. dear Ida." she said, "but 1 do not know what to do." "There's nothing the matter with Harold?" "Oh, no, Ida." "Nor with my Charles?" "No. no."
Ida gave a sigh of relief. "You quite frightened me. dear," said she. "You can't think how solemn you look. What is it, then?" "I believe that papa intends to ask Mrs. Westmacott to marry him."
Ida burst out laughing. "What can have put such a notion into your head, Clara?" "It is only too true, Ida. 1 suspected it before, and he himself almost told me as much with his own lips tonight. 1 don't think that it is a laughing matter." "Really, I could not help it. If you I had told me that those two dear old lar dies opposite, the Misses Williams, were both engaged you would not have surprised me more. It is really too funny." "Funny, Ida? Think of any one taking the place of dear mother."
But her sister was of a more practical and less sentimental nature. "I am sure," said she, "that dear mother would like papa to do whatever would .make him most happy. We shall both be away, and why should papa not please himself?" "But think how unhappy he will be. You know how quiet he is in his ways and how even a little thing will upset him. How could he live with a wife who would make his whole life a series of surprises? Fancy what a whirlwind she must be in a house. A mdn at his age cannot change his ways. I am sure he would be miserable."
Ida's face grew graver, and she pondered over the matter for a few minutes. "I really think that you are right, as usual," ud she at liist. "I admire Charley's aunt very much, you know, and I think that she is a very useful and good person, but I don't think she would do as a wife for poor quiet papa." "But he will certainly ask her, and 1 really think that she intends to accept him. Then it would be too late to interfere. We have only a few days at the most. And what can we do? How can we hope to make him change liis mind?"
Agsin Ida pondered. "He has never tri~d what it is to live with a strong minf woman," said she. "If we could only get him to realize it in time! Oh, Clara, I have it, I have it! Such a lovely plan!" She leaned back in her chair and burst into a fit of laughter so natural and so hearty that Clara had to forget her troubles and join in it. "Oil, it is beautiful!" she gasped at last. "Poor papa! What a time he will liave! But it's all for his own good, as he used to Fay when we had to be punished when we wore little. Oh, Clara, I do hope your heart won't fail you." "I would do anything to save him, dear." "That's it. You must steel yourself, by that thought." "But what is your plan?" "Oh, I am so proud of it. We will tire him forever of the widow and of all emancipated women. Let me see, what are Mrs. Westmacott's main ideas? You have listened to her more than I. Women should attend less to household duties. That is one, is it not?" "Yes, if the}7 feel they have capabilities for higher things. Then she thinks that every woman who has leisure should take up the study of some branch of science, and that as far as possible every woman should qualify herself for some trade or profession, choosing for preference those which have been hitherto monopolized by men. To enter the others would only be to intensify the present competition." "Quite so. That is .glorious!" Her I bhie eyes were dancing with mischief, and she clapped her hands in her delight. "What else? Sho thinks that whatever a man can do a woman should be allowed to do also—does she not?" "She says so." 'i,, "And about dress? The short skirt and the divided skirt aro what she believes in." "Yes,"
1
"WP
must
RRET IN
"Why?" "We must make ourselves a dress each. A brand new, enfranchised, emancipated dress, dear. Don't you see my plan? We shall act up to all Mrs. Westmacott's views in every respect and improve them when we can. Then papa will know what it is to live with a woman who claims all her rights. 'Jh. Clara, it will be splendid."
Her milder sister sat speechless before so daring a cheme. "But it would be wrong. Ida!" she cried at last. "Nut a bit. It is to save him." "1 should not dare." "Oh, yes, you would. Ilarold will help. Besides, what other plan have you?" .v "I have none." "Then you must take mine." "Yes. Perhaxs you are right. Well, we do it for a good motive." "You will do it?" "I do not see any other way."
5
"You dear, good Clara! Now I will show you what you are to do. We must not begin too suddenly. It might excite suspicion." "What would you do, then?" "Tomorrow we must go to Mrs. Westmacott and sit at her feet and learn all her views." "What hypocrites we shall feel!" "We shall be her newest and most enthusiastic converts. Oh, it will be such fun, Clara. Then we shall make our I plans and send for what we want and begin our new life." "I do hope that we shall not have to keep it up long. It seems so cruel to dear papa." "Cruel! To save him!" "I wish I was sure that we were doing right. And yet what else can we do:
Well, then, Ida, the die is cast, and we will call upon Mrs. Westmacott tomor- I row."
I CHAPTER IX.
A
1
1
1
FAMILY PLOT.
Little did poor Dr. Walker imagine as he sat at his breakfast table next morning that the two sweet girls who sat on I either side of him were deep in a conspiracy, and that he, munching innocently at his muffins, was the victim against whom their wiles were planned.
Patiently they waited until at last their
opening came. "It is a beautiful day," he remarked, "It will do for Mrs. Westmacott. She was thinking of having a spin upon her tricycle." I "Then we must call early. We both I intended to see her after breakfast." "Ob, indeed!" The doctor looked pleased. "You know, pa," said Ida, "it seems to us that we really have a very great ad-
1
vantage in having Mrs. Westmacott living so near." ''Why so, dt/ar?" "rWell, because she is so advanced, you know. If we only study her ways, we may advance ourselves also." "I think have heard you say, papa," remarked Clara, "that she is the type of the woman of the future." "I am very pleased to hear you speak so sensibly, my dears. I certainly think that she is a wtoman whom you may very well take as your model. The more intimate you are with her the better pleased I shall be." "Then that is settled," said Clara demurely, and the talk drifted to other matters.
All the morning the two girls sat extracting from Mrs. Westmacott her most extreme views as to the duty of the one sex and the tyranny of the other. Absolute equality, even in details, was her ideal. Enough of tile parrot cry of unwomanly and uhmjiidenly. It had been invented by man to scare woman away when she poached too nearly upon his precious preserves. Every woman should be independent. Every woman should learn a trade. It was their duty to push in where they were least welcome. Then they were martyrs to the cause and pioneer&to their weaker sisters. Why should the washtub, the needle and the housekeeper's book be eternally theirs? Might they not reach higher—to the consultingroom, to the bench and even to the pulpit?
Mrs. Westamott sacrificed her tricycle ride in her eagerness over her pet subject, and her two fair disciples drank in every word and noted her every suggestion for future use. That afternoon they went shopping in London, and before evening strange packages began to be handed in at the doctor's door. The plot was ripe for execution, and one of the conspirators was merry and jubilant, while the other was very nervous and troubled. ,,
When the doctor came down to the dining room next morning, he was surprised to find that his daughters had already been up sometime. Ida was installed at one end of the table, with a spirit lamp, a curved glass flask and several bottles in front of her. The contents (if r: l": -k were boiling furiously, whils'a vi!!: inous smell filled the room.
Clara loum:\ in an armchair with her feet upon a fcond one, a blue covered book in her hand and a huge map of the I British islands spread across her lap. "Hullo!" cried the doctor, blinking and sniffing, "win re's the breakfast?" I, "Oh, didn't you order it?" asked Ida. "I! No why should I!" He rang the bell. "Why have you not laid the breakfast, Jane?" I "If you please, sir, Miss Ida was a-workin at the table." "Oh, of course, Jane," said the young lady calmly. "I am so sorry. I shall be ready to move in a few minutes." "But what on earth are you doing,
Ida?" asked the doctor. "The smell is most offensive. And, good gracious, look at tho mess which you have made upon the cloth! Why, you have burned a hole right through." "Oh, that is tho acid," Ida answered contentedly. "Mrs. Westmacott said that it would burn holes." "You might have taken her word for it without trying," said her father dryly. "But look here, pa! See what the book says: 'The scientific mind takes nothing upon trust. Prove all things!' I have TiTrworl tliat
t*
some cloth."
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MONUMENTS.!
I wish to announce to the people of Hancock and adjoining counties, that 1 have opened a
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O. MILLER.
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Which, in two volumes, formerly at $7.00, and $1.1.00, arc printed in one volume, and by special arrangement you can get the complete work at the
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14 South Pennsylvania St.* W. S. MONTGOMERY, Prop.
I A N S
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