Rensselaer Republican, Volume 13, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 September 1881 — FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN [ARTICLE]

FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN

Miss Eliza M. Marshall has resigned as a teacher in tne public schools at Portsmouth, N. H., after forty-five of uninterrupted service. A country girl, coming from a morning walk, was told she looked as fresh as a daisy kissed by the dew. To which she innocently replied: “You’ve got my name right—Daisy; but his isn’t Dew.” The latest thing in stockings, not counting feet, is pink silk with overtrain of flowered lace. The effect is to cause a muddy crossing to assume the appearance of a bed of pansies, and to bloom and blossom as the rose. Richard Grant White fainted the other day when a friend, whose grammar he was correcting, told him of a Western girl whose companion asked her at a party: “Shall I skin a banana for you?” “No, I thank you,” she replied, “I have one already skun. ” A new trimming for the neck and sleeves of dresses is a puff of surah, made by plaiting the edge, »hen joining them together, afterward pulling out the. plaits, in the middle to give a soft effect. This is sewed in the neck and the wrists of sleeves, and constitutes a perfect finish without the addition of lace. ‘ Young lady: “And you really mean to say that at ,times you do not have enough to eat./ Why/I always thought that poor people in'the country could get eggs, bacon,-milk and vegetables for nothing!” Country-woman: “Only three things as we gets fur nuffin, Miss—air, water and the parson’s advice!”

I can’t think that sinners will be lost,” said Mrs. Nimbletung. “There’s my husband, now. He’s a bad man—a very bad men; but I trust he will be saved at last. I believe he has suffered bis due share in his life.” “Amen,” shouted Nimbletung from the back seat. Mrs. N. gave him such a look, but said nothing. She was our washwoman, and she is dead. She bad much to wringer heart and soaker ambition. She hung out resolutely on the line of duty and stood firmly upon her plus. She was not polished, but we seldom aroused her ire’n, when we did the foam was transient Let’s ’oap she’s past safely over the billows into the blue waters beyond. The night had suddenly overclouded and become quite stormy. Being of a sentimental turn, she accordingly took took her seat at the piano and began to sing, “Into some lives the ra n must fall.” But be was entirely practical, and, cluching her by the arm, said tenderly: “Sing me something else, darling; you know I didn’t bring my umbrella.”