Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 July 1889 — Page 6

OH,TO BE A MAN!

London Society Min Hannah Steptoe wsa a prim little old maid, with a flat, round ruddy face and dark brown hair neatly fastened behind in a little knot. She invariably dressed in gray silk or satin, wore a gold brooch containing a lock of white hair, and was very particular about her caps—curious compounds of ribbon and muslin and lace, which varied from the severe turban in the morning to the last new fashion from Paris in the evening. These caps wrought a remark* able change in her appearance; she seemed to grow younger as the day advanced so that the question of her age was often debated by the gossiping inhabitants of Dullish, the small and dreary watering-place in which she had made her home. She lived with a confidential old servant in a little cottage facing a triangular green. Roses were carefully trailed over the wooden porch; the path through the tiny garden was bordered with white pebbles; the flower beds were cut with mathematical precision, in short, the outside of the cottage clearly indicated the orderly habits that prevailed within. Nothing ever went wrong there. Doors opened and shut without creaking; hot mutton punotualyatl o’clock on Sunday was followed by cold mutton punctually at 1 o’clock on Mondays; the muffins were done to a tom on Thursdays, when a few friends always came to afternoon tea; habit had worn for itself deep grooves, and everything ran smooth and undeviatingly along tnem.

When any Sunday-school teacher wanted a model of common-place propriety for the example of her ptipils she was sure to select Miss Hannah Steptoe. No one would have dreamed of suspecting the slightest tinge of romance in this quiet little lady. And yet, so inconsistent is human nature, she had set her affections upon a man much younger than herself, while her life was haunted by the dark desire to see the world as it really is, and not as it was presented to her and her set of highly respectable friends, all of whom stood uponthe neat and narrow platform of conventionality and never ventured to look over the edge. She longed to do what they dared not. The placid smile that sometimes lighted up her face as she sat in the armchair before the fire and watched her cat sleeping on the hearthrug, was caused not by a pleasant retrospect, which affords enjoyment to so many old ladies, but by a fanciful picture of hei friends’ feelings as they believed her plunging into some wild extravagance. Certain persons of undoubted piety, John Wesley among them, are said to have been beset by a horrible and almost irresistible temptation to do something outrageous. The temptation that beset Miss Steptoe was somewhat similar in degree, though different in kind. “Oh, to be a man!” was the thought that continually rose to her lips hut never escaped them. It was more than feminine curiosity; it was almost a mania with her, cleverly as she concealed it Perhaps, after all, the very stiffness of manner and habit, which was supposed to be her leading characteristics, was but an extreme precaution against her besetting temptation. “Oh, to be a man!” The thought was no sooner driven froni her mind than it was back again, often bursting upon her at the most uncongruous times, when she was making a pudding or knitting a stocking. But the day came with dazzled saw a-way-to the attainment of a wish which she had always regarded as unattainable. Late one autumn there arrived in Dullish a mesmerist, who called himself Prof. Sobrinski. In Bpite of his name he spoke English with very good accent. He was a tall, thin, sallowfaced man, with an enormous nose, and cold, snake-like eyes. Possessed of a fond d grim humor he regarded nature as a plaything, and was never so pleased as when trying the effect of a round block in a square hole. It was doubtless this propensity that had led him to adopt mesmerism as a means of livelihood.

A successful seance in the town hall brought Prof. Sobrinski into notice. At first his vocation as a public performer —a sort of play-actor in fact—was deoidedly against him, bat somebody started the story that he was a Polish count, whereupon be became quite a rage in Dollish. He was invited to dinners, teas and suppers, and at all of them was expected to give illustrations of his art gratuitously. This he did revenging himself by making fools of bis host and hostess. Among the Professor’s warmest admirers was Miss Hannah Steptoe. In the crowd that used to gather round him she always occupied a prominent place; her prim little figure rigid, her daiUtily attired head held on one side as she hung upon his every wordi She had conceived a most fantastic idea of the powers of mesmerism. By its aid, it seemed to her, the transmigration of souls was brought within the range of possibility, if not of accomplished facts. Glowing with excitement, she hatched a little plot based upon this conclusion. She invited to a cozy afternoon tea a few friends, including the Professor and Ospt. Henniker, a tall, handsome, indolent man with a big mustache, which had captivated all the young

I lull" in MU*-™. W. Huwih Steptoe. But it was not solely the mustache that bad wrought the mischief in her case. The Captain, in spite of his drawling tone*, and eyes which were seldom really open, were reputed to have seen more of the world than most people of double the age. This alone would be quite enough to explain the secret admiration of him. The preparations for her entertainment were prodigious. Never was there such a baking of cakes and toasting of muffins and washing of quaint little cupe and saucers. The kettle was unusually tedious, and when the tea was made the solemn servant terrified her mistress with the suggestion that the prater had never boiled if ter all. With awed faces they peered into the splendid silver teapot, which was reserved for state occasions, and when they beheld several leavee floating on the surface their expressions were most tragic. “Martha, this is too dreadful,” exclaimed Miss Steptoe, with uplifted hands.

“Yes, ma’am.itis,” replied Martha. “I’ve never known the like to happen in onr house before —no, never.” It was some time before Miss Steptoe recovered from the shock. Her domestic duties imposed such a strain upon her that she almost forgot the excitement of her plot. But when, attired in her best gray Bilk and daintiest cap, she sat down to await the coming of her guests, she was all a tremble. Her manner, when receiving them, was marked by extreme nervousnees, but no one, looking at that prim little lady, would have attributed the cause to anything more extraordinary than a catastrophe in the kitchen. When she had poured out the tea and Martha had handed round the cakes and muffins retired, she lost no time in coming to the point. “Wouldn't it be very nice and interesting, you know, Prof. Sobrinski,” she said to that distinguished foreigner, whose big nose, havering over his cup, resembled the beak of a bird, “to carry mesmerism a little further than you do?” A breathless silence fell upon all, for the Professor was about to speak. Every eye was eagerly bent upon him as he set down his cup. The only person who saw any humor in the situation was himself; he was too clever to show it. “In what way?” he asked. “Well,” replied Miss Steptoe, “your subjects can’t resist tho poorer of your will, can they?” “No, Mies Steptoe.”

“You can make them do precisely "what you like. You can even separate soul from body.” “Just so,” assented the professor. “Then why not make somebody’s spirit enter somebody else’s body? A sort of temporary exchange, you know, and then each would have the thoughts and feelings of the other. Wouldn’t such an experiment tend to more brotherly love? I mean, by enabling us to see things from different standpoints.” “No doubt,” said the Professor, smilling, though the gliter in his eyes was anything but pleasant. “L T pon whom, Miss Steptoe, do you wish me to experiment?” As she glanced round the silent circle gathered before the fire, there was a very general shrinking. The ladies cowered behind their tea-eups, and several of the gentlemen standing in the background were mean enough to hide behind their neighbors. “Well,” said Miss Steptoe, with resignalion, "ITltwlli serve the interests of science, I don’t mind offering myself.” By this time the ladies were thoroughly frightened, and several began to remonstrate. But Prof. Sobrinski took no notice oi them. “Who else?” he asked.

“Capt. Henniker, won’t you?” timidly said Miss Steptoe, after a pause. “A soldier oughtn’t to be afraid, you know. Won’t you join me in the sacred cause of science?” “With pleasure,” he drawled, bowing from a chair opposite. “Only too happy to oblige a lady. But no larks, Professor! You must let me get back to myself, or it might be awkward for Miss Steptoe. I wouldn’ inconvenience her for the world.” “My experiments never fail,” said the Professor: “please let us begin at once.” He proceeded in the usual way, making each of his subjects gaze fixedly at a coin held in such a position as to throw a strain upon the eyes. The spectators watched the operation with some curiosity and no little trepidation, not a word being spoken by any of them. It was the Professor, and not his subjects, who riveted their attention. There was a strange fascination about his glittering eves, and as the flickering firelight fell upon his tall figure and sallow, bird like face and hovering hands, he reminded many of a vulture. Capt Henniker, though at first a trifle restive, eventually fell under the magician’s spell. Miss Steptoe succumbed at onoe. When Prof. Sobrinski examined their eyes he found that both his subjects were thoroughly under the mesmeric influence. Then he smiled grimly, just as he had smiled before. “So far, so good,” he said; “now for the next stage.” He flattered his fingers in front of Capt Henniker. “Remember you are Miss Steptoe.” He turned and

! treated the gesture before her. “And you are Capt. Henniker.” With a singularly aly expression she looked np at him and said, “No larks Professor.” The gentlemen fairly shrieked with laughter, the speech was so unexpected. Their merriment was increased by the ridiculous appearance of Capt. Henniker. With his hands folded over his knees, he wore an air such an air as Miss Steptoe would ordinarily have worn ufidey the IOTe circumstances. All this time she had been fidgeting in her chair. As nobody Bpoke, all waiting for what was coming next, she rose impatiently, Baying: “You peop je areso uncommonly dull that I really can’t stand this any longer —l’m off.” “Where to?” asked Prof. Sobrinski, the only one who was able to speak. “For a spree. Bother these old maids They are enough to drive one crazy.” Her words threw a sadden stillness into the attitudes of the ladies present. They positively glared alter her, as, With her little horse high in the mir~ she walked to the door.

Capt. Henniker almost dropped from his seat, he was so dismayed. Like her, he was only obeying an irresistible power, for he had full possession of his own identity. He knew what an ass he was making of himself, but he could not act otherwise, hard though he tried to do so. And now that Miss Steptoe was going out he was filled with horror, for how in her absence could he regain control over himseif? Yet her womanly bashfulness and other characteristics having been impressed upon him, he could not utter one word to stop her. “There she goes with my spirit,” he he said to himself, shuddering. And when the door closed upon her, this careless soldier with the big mustache actually began to weep. Mias Steptoe went up stairs to her room and, with the speed and inattention of a man, put on her mantle and bonnet. There was no lingering at the glass, no searching for stray ribbons no final pluming oi feathers. In a wondeifully short space of time she was out of the house and on her way to the Parade. Mr. Macnish, a pompous little man, who would have been startled to learn that he was a butt for every joker in Dullish, happened to be swaggering along in front of her. She stepped up to him and slapped him on the back. “Well, old chappie, where are you off to?” demanded this astonishing little lady. When Mr. Macnish recognized Miss Steptoe he nearly Pad an apoplectic fit. “Oh, you wag!” she exclaimed, pointing athim. “Good gracious!’’gasped Mr. Macnish, falling back in alarm. “Ta-ta,” laughed Miss Steptoe. “I’m bound for the parade. You are not going awayj I suppose?” Mr. Macnish, with very shaky knees, stood staring after her. “The woman’s mad,” he said at last. There can be no doubt about it.” Then he turned and made for her cottage as fast as his legs could carry him. Here another surprise awaited him. Martha, who did not know that her mistress had gone out, told him that there were a number of vieitors in the drawing room; should she show him in? “Yes,” he replied in bewilderment,and entered, peering about like a traveler arrived at dead of night in a strange land. He found Prof. Sobrinski Bpeaking to an entranced audience, hut his arrival caqaedA ,general -flutter. His extraordinary story created much amusement, and while the mystery was being explained to him there was a good deal of laughter. “Poor thing,’’exclaimed Mr. Macnish, “she shouldn’t have been allowed out; I call it an abominable practical joke.” “My good sir,” said Prof. Sobrinski, “you speak too fast. It was Miss Steptoe herself who proposed the experiment. She has sacrificed herself in the cause of science.”

“Science be hanged,” cried Mr. Macnish, “I am going after her.” Gapt. Henniker rose eagerly. “Allow me,” he said, “I ought to have kept near her. I feel dreadfully ill apart from her. If you will be good enough to excuse me, I will go after her.” He looked doubtfully at Prof. Sobrinski. “Xi»u may go,” said the Professor. Capt. Henniker bowed and left the room. He felt obliged to proceed slowly and sedately, eager as he was to regain the society of Miss Steptoe. Besides his anxiety to recover that part of himself with which he believed she had walked off, her spirit was working within him, and while he shrank from the contemplated act, he was (rreslsltlbly impelled to make a declaration of love. “What a dolt lam,” he kept saying te himself as he went towards the Parade; “I don’t cars a straw about the old frump, and yet—l love you to distraction, iny darling. There, was there ever such a horrible position! The words will come out, but they are not my words.” Grassy banks, thinly planted with shrubs, aloped down to the Parade, a converted park by the side of the sea. A few lamps twinkled along the edge of the beach; they had just been lighted when Caut. Henniker arrived. The breeze being chilly, he was surprised to see a good many people walking about, while a few occupied seats near the

little circular erection where the band played in the evening. In the distance was a prim little figure sauntering along as if the whole place belonged to her. She stopped and spoke to nearly everybody she met, and as she passed on again they gazed after her in speechless amusement. ; Min Hannah Steptoe they knew; bat who was this eccentric person who assumed her guise and then startled them with the most extraordinary speeches and gestures? They gathered in groups and pointed after her. There .was quite a commotion upon the Parade. If there was one thing more than another that Capt Henniker abhorred it was being mixed up in a scene. He shuddered at the very idea of making himself ridiculous, and yet he went after Miss Steptoe, and, thongh straggling against what he was compelled to do, entered into conversation with her and walked by her side. The curious spectators observed that she dropped- her flippant manner at once, but thej did not know what had caused the change. They could not help, however, being struck with Capt, Henniker’s respectful attitude.

“I very much wanted to see you alone,’ he said, “so I have taken the liberty of following you. You can guess what I am going to say, can’t you?” “How should I?” “Oh, my darling, how I iove you! You know it, don’t yon? You have known it all along. Do you love me?” “I do,” she answered softly. . ssfi “Then,” eriedthis miserable puppet, “I am the happiest man in the world.” He stretched out his arms towards her. As he did so, a peal of laughter reached his ears, and proved stronger than„the spell. He started back shivering. “This place is frightfully public,” he said; “let us go away from it.” A pompous little man came tearing along the Parade. He waved bis stick, and was evidently in a tremendous passion. It was Mr. Macnish. “Capt. Henniker,” he cried, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You are making Miss Steptoe the talk of the whole town.” “Not me.” stammered Capt. HeKniker.

“But you are, sir. Pray,” said Mr. Macnish, turning to Miss Steptoe, “let me see you home. The air is keen here.” To Capt. Henniker’ surprise, she went quite meekly; she did not utter a word of remonstrance; she did not even look back. He had yet much to learn of Prof. Sobrinski’s power over his subjects. When Capt. Henniker awoke next morning he was painfully conscious of what had happened on the previous day. There could be no doubt he was in a very awkward predicament, and he could see no way out of it. Iu despair he sent his servant to ask his friend and confident, Leonard Haughton, to come to breakfast. Haughton accepted the invitation, hut was rather late in arriving. “I say. old boy,” he began, “you look precious seedy. Did Miss Steptoe’s tea disagree with you?” “I hate a fool,” said Capt. Henniker testily. “Sit down and help yourself.” “Billious, eh?” said Haughton with a smile. “Well, perhaps its not to be wondered at. Thank goodness, my appetite will make amends for yours.” He helped himself largely, and for a time breakfast proceeded in silence; but presently Capt. Henniker threw down his knife and fork, and said: “Look here, Leonard. I’m in a most frightful mess. It makes my nair stand on end when I think of it. How can I have been such a fool I can’t conceive. I allowed that viper Sobrinski to mesmerize me, and then I became Miss Septoe and [she became me. Do you follow me?” » “Not exactly,” answered Haughton, dryly, “but go on.” “Well, Miss Steptoe—that was me, you know—walked off to the Parade, and left me—that was Miss Steptoe—behind, and after a while I —or, rather, Miss Steptoe—followed her—that was me. It sounds funny, doesn’t it?”j “Very.”

“Then I, like an ass—though I couldn’t help it—proposed to Miss Steptoe. Bat, yoa understand, it was really Miss Steptoe who proposed.” “In other words, Miss Steptoe propoeed to herself.” “Nonsense, man. I’ll put it more plainly for you. The spirit of Miss Steptoe in body proposed to my spirit in her body. “Wasthe spirit whisky or gin? Upon my word Henniker, you are not sober yet. Who proposed to whom?” “That is just what I can’t make out. It seemed as if I woe proposing to her, but it was she who proposed to me. How do I stand? That is what 1 want you to tell me.” “Give it up,” answered Haughton. “Never was good at riddies.” “Do be sensible for a moment. Am I bound by the proposal?” “I should say you were. When a fellow takes too much —shall we call it tea? —over night, he must expect to answer for it in the morning.” . “Then,” said Capt. Henniker desperately, “the proposal must be repeated by me. Say good-bye to your old friend, Leonard. I feel as if I should cut my tbroat” That afternoon he called at Mias

— StepWs cottage, in order to ratify what had occurred between them. It was, he considered, the only honorable coarse open to him, and therefore he had reeolved to take it, though the spell itself had ceased to operate. It seemed as if its hateful effects were to last a lifetime, compelling him to do what he detested, and leaving him no more contrsLoyer his own destiny than is possessed by chaff driven by the wind. Martha opened the door to him. With a face brimful of importance she said, before he had time to speak: “Have you heard the news, Capt. Henniker?” “Newt!” he gasped, fearing that he knew it only too well. “Miss Steptoe is engaged to Mr. Macnish.” He scarcely knew how he made his escape; he was at once so astonished and so delighted. It was not until afterwards, when he was able to think more clearly, that a slight feeling of Bareness entered his mind. It‘was rather humiliating to he rejected in favor of Mr. Macnish. He could not conceive how it happened. Any woman could have told him. But Capt Henniker thought it prudent not to ask.

Face-to-Face Work.

He who would help the poor must work among them and not at them. Art may admit of dilettanteism, that is, of following it for amusement and not with a serious purpose; but philanthrophy demands persistent, personal work from those who are more interested in men, women and children than they are in humanity. When Edward Irving began his labors as Dr. Chalmers’ assistant, among the poor of Glasgow, be girded himself for face-to-face, hand-to-hand work. He entered a poor man’s home, as he would have gone into an oriental palace, with the apostolic benediction, “Peace be to this house.” He laid his hand upon the heads of the children, and pronounced the ancient benediction, “The Lord bless thee and keep thee.” Then with the heartiness of a neighbor he entered into the concerns of the household, listened to the narrative of hardships and partook of the miserable cheer, having first asked over it as stately a blessing as if it were a feast. Once on his way to a meeting of the presbytery, he walked, while the other ministers went in carriages. The “brethren,” on overtaking Irving, greeted him with laughter and jokes, for on his stalwart shoulders he bore a peddler’s pack, while by his side walked a poor, tired Irishman. Irving was indignant at the brethren’s laughter. He was simply “bearing another’s burden,” and so—fulfilling the law of Christ,. Irving’s interest in persons prompted him to devise guileless wiles for winning them. An infidel shoemaker, a born worker, used to turn his back when Irving visited the house, and ’never acknowledged his presence save by an occasional humph oi criticism on some remark of tho visitor to the trembling wife. One day Irving sat down by the shoemaker’s bench, took up a piece of patent leather, then a recent invention, and made several remarks upon it. “What do ye ken about leather?” asked the shoemaker, without raising his eyes. Irving, a tanner’s son, answered by so talking that the cobbler slackened work and listened. Irving described a process of making shoes by machinery. The man suspended work altogether, lifted his eyes and exclaimed. kind o’ fellow! Do you preach?" On the following Sunday the cobbler was at church. Tho next day Irving meet him in ono of the most frequented streets of Glasgow, hailed a9 a friend, laid his hand upon the cobbler’s shirt-sleeve, and walked with him until their ways parted. Tho shoemaker was won. He bought him a suit of Sunday “blacks,” went habitually to church, and to the criticism of his comrades, answered: “He’s a Sensible man, yon. He kens about leather!" Irving’s cordiality. 9een to be personal and not merely official, had conquered the sullen man.—Ex.

Color of the Hair and Eyes

M. Topinard has been making a statistical inquiry into the colors of the eyes and hair in France, and from his 180,000 observations he deduces many interesting results, one of the most curious being that where the race is formed from a mixture of blbndes and brunettes the hereditary blood-color-ing comes out in the eyes, and the brunette element reappears in the hair. To this tendency probably is to be attributed the rarity of a combination of light hair with dark eyes. Several observers hare asserted that tho American people, who are pre-emi-nently a m ixed race, are becoming a dark-haired and blue-eyed nation, and if this be true, such a development must be owing to the working of the new law formulated by M. Topi* nard. A Steamer Rung Into a Whale, The James Turpie, a British steamship, ran into n large whale on her recent voyage to New York from Messina. The vessel at the time was bowling along at a good rate, and the collision shook her from stem to stern. It is estimated the whale was sixty feet long.

ITALIANS IN ARGENTINA.

Over a Million Have Settled There in Thirty-Three Years. During the last thirty-five years about 1,500,000 immigrants have reached the Argentine provinces, says the London Spectator. Of these 65.25 per cent are officially set down as Italians. The figures, however, do not sufficient'lydiuijjiaii&rthftffrreal preponderance.— In the first place, a Wurth of the total immigrants are not classified except as entering the state by way of Montevideo, where it is very common for transshipments of passengers from Europe to take place. Probably if the Montevideo returns were ah* alyzed the percentage of Italians would work out as not less than 75 per cent of the whole. But there is another and still morel important fact to be borne in mind. The Italians in South America increase with remarkable rapidity, the marriages made between them and the natives proving peculiarly fruitful —a circumstance not observed in such a high degree among the other immigrants. In 1885 the Italian chamber of commcrce of Buenos Ay res calculated that the inhabitants of Italian birth aud parentage then residing in the republic numbered over 1.000,000, while at the present moment it is estimated that persons in whom Italian blood or Italian race influence predominates constitute more than half the existing population, now reckoned tb be over 8,500,000. Under such circumstances can it be doubted that in a very few years the Italianization of the valley of the Plate will be complete? The only fact that tells against such a supposition is the newly-adopted immigration policy of the Argentine government, which has lately instructed its agents jn Europe to do all in their power to attract immigration from among the northern races. The danger of being swamped by the most vigorous of the Latin peoples is fully realized at Buenos Ayres, and considerable numbers jof Belgians, Hollanders, North Germans, and Swedes havo already been attracted by almost free passages and generous grants of land. We doubt, however, the continued success of such a policy. Emigration flows with difficulty in new channels. '

No More Hari-Kari.

The Mikado of Japan is a deeply distrusted individual. He has seen many Japanese customs we ken and disappear on account of European influences becoming so dominant, but ho never dreamed that time-honored llari-Kari was destined to be blotted out. That custom had come down from remote antiquity, and it was- considered the most effective for Keeping officials straight that could be invented. An official who was short in his accounts, or who didn’t attend to las duties properly, wasn't impeached, or discharged, or even allowed to resign. He simply received a communication from the Mikado, couched in the most poli to terms, intimating that as soon as he could pen the customary farewell letters to his family and the press, intelligence of his suicide would be quite acoeptible to the authorities. If he was a highly salaried man the letter was accompanied by a richly-jeweled sword with which to carve himself. Not long ago the Mikado sent a particularly elaborate and costly cheese stabber to a high official who had offended him, with the usual polite encouragement to /cfor/ese. hut instead of complying the official took a steamer for France, and on reaching Paris he sold the jeweled sword for $(>,000 quite a haridsome speculatiou. He thinks of opening u store in Paris for the purchase of swords of that description, all of which is calculated to knock Hari-Kari higher than a Kite. —Texas Siftings.

Let Women Try if they Want to.

“One of the most absurd arguments used against a girl who wishes to be* come a physician,” said a blue-eyed, fair haired medical student in petticoats the othey day, “is that the disagreeable sights and experiences of the dissecting room, if they do not altogether overpower her fortitude, will coarsen her feelings and destroy her delicacy. Bah, I say, to such mawkish sentimentality. No one thinks it hardens a girl to nurse a sick person, and yet I tell you that in ministering to the sick and the dying and the dead, in the capacity of a nurse, I have seen sights and performed more distasteful and exhausting labor than 1 would have been called on to do if 1 had been the physician; and all the time I knew nothing of that keen interest in the scientific part of the work which I now have, which so absorbs my attention and thoughts that what is revolting to others is by me almost unnoticed.’*—New York Tribune.

Money Misplaced.

Mr. Greathead (coal and ice dealer) —“I didn’t sell as much coal last winter as usual.” Mrs. Greathead—“Too bad. Your must have some money left which you would have had if the weather hafl been cooler.” “Yes, they have, but I shall raise the price of iceanSTget it away from them before fall.” —New York Weekly.

Nothing Now Under the Sun.

If you have made a neat remark. And think its like you cannot find. Please recollect in Noah'i ark That there were two of every Mai -Philadelphia Pease.