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Publication name: Burlington Hawk Eye

Location: Burlington, Iowa

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Burlington Hawk Eye (Newspaper) - January 26, 1890, Burlington, Iowa PART ONE. TITE I ^-——-|-----— IU RUING TOK r HAWK EYE PAGES 1-4 Established: Junk, 1819.] BURLINGTON IOWA SUNDAY MORNING, JANUARY a 6, 1890.-EIGHT PAGES. [Price: 15 Cents Week. WHAT OCR LADIES WOULD LIE TD KNOW. MBS. FRANK LESLIE DISCUSSES THE QUESTION, “WHEN DOES A MAN MEAN MARRIAGE I” "nu CHAKOS in Such Matters—-Cotton Dresses and White Aprons in Bride’s Trosseau—Marriage on $2,000 or $10,000 a Year—Prize Essay on Women and Wage Earners—A Chapter on Low Necked Dresses—A Bashful Young Woman’s Experience. <Copyrighted, 181*3.—For Th* Hawk-Bt*.] Jfo doubt it is a (raisin to say that the rode of unwritten law regulating social salters in “these United States'’ has ’Within tile memory of man undergone a very extensive revision, and “things are *-<»t as they used to bo.” But, as somebody says, “Truisms ai^ generally very true,” and this one is so true that it forces itself upon one’s attention whenever one read.-} or hears of how social life was conducted in New York or Philadelphia or Boston tifty or seventy-five years ago, when Chicago was a howling wilderness and San Francisco a sleepy little mission hamlet. In those good old days, which I for one arn very glad ended before I began, the country was still in that comparatively new condition when there was Fpa^e and occupation and demand for a great many more people than applied for them. In a word, the demand for men exceeded th*- supply, and I lie consequence wa.-, that such men as there were desired to marry and become the heads of families. Probably, also, all the, women felt like Cornelia, who paraded her two bows as her chiefest jewels and her “stake in the country.” In those days the standard of social life was far simpler, less expensive and less burdensome than is ours. The young wife provided herself with cotton gowns and big aprons and went into her kitchen daily, not simply to hold up her bkirts in one jeweled hand and daintily point the other at this and that. She took hold of her housekeeping literally with both hands, and the dainty and elaborate cooking of the ladies of that <lay remains unrivaled by the hired service* of today, even though one subsidizes a chef at ten thousand a year and a piano. The next time you meet your •grandmother ask her to tell you what she used to provide for Christmas and New Year’s dinners and wedding suppers; it will make } our mouth water and your heart ache. Well, this thrifty young housekeeper had one good, faithful family servant, who did whatever lier hands found to do, and whose pride and interest was in her master’s house. By and by, when the ballies came, perhaps there was a nurse for them, but in the generality of families this was all the retinue unless a man was kept for the horse and garden, and an income of two or three thousand dollars supported the modest and contented memige of many even of the “best families,” while a man with a hundred thousand dollars w;is wealthy, arid a millionaire was spoken of with bated breath and looked at as In* passed by. Well, we have changed all tlite with the rapidity of a “lightning transformation” iii a pantomime. The bride of today possesses no cotton gowns except some dainty cretonnes and mulls and diaphanous white cambric and Valenciennes wrap]Kus. Slie has aprons, to be sure, for afternoon teas and negligee wear, but “they don't wash” as those of her grandmother did. She, probably, has no kitchen ol her own, but lives in a hotel or boarding house, or in a suite with a cafe in the building, lf she does “keep holist*” her mother or aunt spends some anxious days in finding two or three good servants, especially a cook who can “bone, lard and dress" without any further instruction or oversight, for, us I heart! one motlier complacently remark, “My daughter does not know whether the dressing is put inside of a fowl or grows there.” I am not saying that the bride of to-tiuy is less commendable than the bride of fifty years ago; she knows a great deal of what that sweet creature was ignorant; slit' is, perhaps, better trained to be a companion and sympathizer with lier husband; she knows more of the world and of human nature, and is very likely either as wise or wiser than her predecessor; but she is not a housewife, and can neither perform the duties of one nor instruct anybody cise how to do them. I know whereof I speak, for my motlier was of the old school and I am of tho new. When I was married ;uid went to housekeeping she came too, and while her capable and wise hands held —tile rems the wheels of the domestic challot ran upon velvet, or if they did not, nobody ever knew it. But, alas, the day came when those same reins fell into my unaccustomed grasp,aud the result was as when Phaeton essay cd to drive the chariot of his father Phoebus. The steeds ran away, and if I was not consumed bv the solar tires our dinner very often was by tile sublunary — Iliad almost said the infernal—tires, and finally, when the cook fell through a glass door because she was too much intoxicated to stand up. and I was summoned from entertaining my hungry and expectant guests to superintend her removal to the hospital, then we concluded that housekeeping was not altogether my role, and so went to board, a condition of life iii which I expect to live and die. Now to provide an accomplished cook with two or three other servants, and to pax for I lie windows they fail through. aud the carriages to take them to the hospital, and the dinners they burn up, even not mentioning the back door outgoes, and the general waste and unthrift of a house w ithout a housewife, costs a great ileal more than two or three thousand a year—that is. in New York. In fact, the hundred thousand dollar man will need to be wise and to have a wise helpmeet if the ends of the year are to meet. To be sure, a young couple may board very comfortably upon five or six thousand a year, and go into company aud dress well into the bargain. But if \he_couple becomes a trio aud a quartet. or even a quintet, a good deal more money and a good deal more room is needed, and although, as .Englishmen say, most American families consist of two, there is always the possibility of more, and a wise man makes provision for the future before he burns his bridges. Having thus laid down the causes, let us* glance at the effects. The country is now, at least along the eastern seaboard and in our great cities, lather over than under populated; the scale of living has been expanded out of all reason; young girls now dress with more solid magnificence than their grandmothers used; they know nothing of A Deping a house, of serving themselves or of making the most of a small income, and the sum of it ail is that the young men cannot afford to marry. Cornelia’s sons nowadays are not treasures, but need an immense amount of seem able to stand alone so long as there is a father to lean upon. The outcome of all this is that, while the natural attraction between the sexes continues, and young men are as eager to make love to young women as they used to be, it is not, and, poor fellows, cannot be, with the same singlemindedness. They still feel that they should like to make this or that girl their wife, bot they know very well that they cannot; and that, moreover, they must be very careful not to commit themselves to any such course, lest they should be held to it by stern papas and belligerent brothers. What is tile consequence? Why, that they go just as far as is safe in love making and there stop, oftentimes leaving the poor girl utterly bewildered and uncertain of their meaning. Of course this course is not only distressing to the vvo rn aa but demoralizing to the man; the honest instincts of his heart try to assert themselves, but are crushed down not so much by wisdom m by cunning; tile heart grows false and fie •eyes become liars, for they say, “I love you,” when the lips have no intention of adding, “Will yon be my wife?’ The hand presses significantly that other hand, but does not ask it in marriage; the tongue frames moving speeches significant of loneliness, of the need of sympathy, of the charm of meeting one who can understand, and a thousand other pretty phrases, Lait it never sjx'aks the few plain English words that offer all a man leis and is to the woman of his choice. Love, like everything else in our day, has become conventionalized, and as in embroidery we accept a certain figure fora rose and another for a bird, although neither of them resembles a rose or bird, so }*>or Love no longer is an innocent boy leading his brother Hymen by the hand, but has become a gay and debonair Mephistopheles, using words not to declare the truth but to cunningly disguise it, to say a thing and not mean it, and to mean a thing and be very careful not to say it. I do not suppose men, or at least every man, is conscious of pursuing this course, hut the social conditions we have already noted unconsciously impress themselves upon his mind, and the same sort of instinct grows up in him that stimulates the liar© to double and wind and hide its tracks by all sorts of simple subtleties. He is afraid of being caught if he pursues an open, straightforward course, and so is the man; poor fellows, both! But how Is a girl to know, for there are still men who can afford, or will afford, to marry, and whose attentions are as sincere and full of purpose as all men’s used to be iii the old time? How shall the girl know, or how shall her mother know for lier, whether the man who singles her out at every entertainment, who gives lier flowers and begs her to give bim one in return, who gazes at her as none but lovers gaze, who says all sorts of pretty things and implies- more than lie says, who shows Ids admiration in a thousand ways but his intentions in none, is a genuine aspirant or a honey I lee desirous of storing up sweets for the dark, cold days of lites winter, or merely a butterfly , hovering and sipping and waving gorgeous idle wings in the summer sunshine, but doomed to perish in the first adverse wind? Well. there is no rule, like that of two and two make four, that can be laid down, and for one reason, because tile man often does not himself know his intentions. (J iris have changed .as well as men since the good old honest days, and a wise man before closing any bargain likes to Im* sure of his ground, and before paying down such a price as himself he likes to know just what “value received” means. It isn’t at ail a pleasant idea that a girl is tieing % ie wed as if it were a question of a horse or a yacht, and these <iear men are after all so transparent that they seldom can carry through such a proceeding without being discovered; but nevertheless, when a man is discovered in iIds ungallant attitude of mind, it is pretty certain proof that ho has serious intentions. If lie is only amusing himself it is nothing to him whether the object is domestic, or economical, ar sweet tempered, or conscientious; but if she is to be his wife all these things matter very much, and he tries more or less artlessly to discover the truth about them. Then I think there is a certain true and loyal tenderness in the manner of the bee that the butterfly lacks, and a certain flavor of respect and deference in his attentions and pretty speeches. Hie English marriage service makes the man say, “With my body I thee worship,” and a good man has something of that feeling toward the girl to whouihe means to confide Ins honor, his happiness-and his name. Thus the marrying man will not bi' likely to lead the girl who may become his wife into questionable frolics orsrisque adventures; he always feds responsible for her good name. while the butterfly is only thinking of his own amusement, The marrying man will speak of his mother and sisters, and, if they are living, try to promote an acquaintance; or if the motlier is a dear memory he will very likely seek sympathy from the young girl he believes in. Also her family will be a subject of interest to tile man who is going to make it his family-in-law, and he may beround studying the dispositions and manners of its members, while the butterfly looks upon them with unfeigned indifference. or simply as obstacles to his flirtation. These are a few of the indications which I have observed of a man’s attentions in these conventional days, but. after all, the surest touchstone is oneoot-so easily defined, and that isithat delicate and intuitive perception with which most women are endowed, a sort of glorified instinct, quicker, subtler and more reliable than man’s boasted reason. By this power a woman of developed character aud perceptions judges every man who approaches her iii the character of an admirer, and if his attentions become at all marked, or if she is herself interested in him, she rarely fails to place him just about where he belongs, and sometimes sees what he means and what he wants before he knows it himself. In that case she either delicately leads him on to say what he has to say, or as delicately shows him that it is useless, or if he is simply amusing himself, she occasion- were, pull the feathers out of his wings, tfam discovering that lie has been seen through, has served as the plaything of an idle hour to one whom he thought he was thoroughly deceiving, |je away very abject and shabby indeed, and we will hope improves by the lesson. But the trouble of this last test is, that girls do not possess the essential instinct of intuition as women do. Thev are at once too simple and too sure of their own attractions; it is to them the most probable thing in the world that every man who speaks prettily to them want3 to marry them, and the instinct of vanity dulls the instinct of perception. But again, the girl cannot love so strongly, cannot suffer so keenly, cannot be 30 crushed by disappointment as the woman, and so it remains pretty equal after ail, and both woman and girl had best try to value themselves so highly that “his intentions” matter very little after all J BITS OF FOREIGN COOKERY. Some Transatlantic Schemes for Tickling th** Palates of 3Iankind. [Copyright. I SOO.] In every country there is some special dish that is tasty, appetizing, easv to make and one of which the materials can be found in almost any other country. In the course of a somewhat protracted voyage, which carried me through many countries, I made a point of finding out bow to cook any of those dishes that struck ray fancy and would bear transplanting. In Holla lid you get the most delicious Dutch cheese. They take sour milk and put it in a muslin bag and hang it up over night. In the morning this is a solid mass but not tough as when boiled, assume make it. Salt and pepper are added and a tea cup of rich sweet cream is stirred into say a quart of the curd, and this is then eaten and not left to harden or turn acrid and sour. Anyone can make this, and whoever does will say they want no more “smear case” as long as there is milk to be had to make this kind of. Iii Nuremburg I was persuaded against my will to try some sauerkraut, and I took some more, and delighted Mina’s soul by asking how she cooked it. It was like a savory, pungent jelly, and begat an appetite even while one really needed nothing more. She took two quarts of sauerkraut out of the barrel at night, dipping deep below the brine, and this she put in four quarts of clear water. In the morning this was drained off awl the sauerkraut put on the fire to simmer slowly six hours with just enough water to keep it from burning, a pinch of pepper, tablespoonful of moist brown sugar, a teaspoonful of caraway seeds, and every half hour she added a tablespoonful of clarified goose grease, and one table-spoonful of tart cider. Let folks laugh at san erk raut as much as they like. They never will again if they try this dish once. In Vienna what pleased me most was the famous schnitzel and tiny potatoes. I don’t know to this day whether the potatoes grow that small or are cut that way artfully, but they are just a mouth fill {mine) and very sweet and nice. The schnitzel I found was prepared in this wise; Oval pieces of veal without bone about half or three-quarters of an inch thick are moistened with milk, rolled in flour, then in beaten yolk of egg and afterward in powdered crackers and carefully dropped in hot lard and fried to a deep golden brown. Of course they are seasoned with salt, peper and just a suspicion of thyme. When done they look like extra large fried oysters, and are laid upon a napkin, just to drain off the fat, and then served on hot plates with a necklace of potatoes and a breast pin of half a lemon. Another savory, simple and economical dish particularly pleased me in Buda Pesth. Adeepdish held a greenish looking mass, which proved to lie a cabbage boiled and served whole, and when little triangular slices were cut out it was seen to have a layer of finely minced meat between every two leaves. To prepare this, one wants a large kettle, a rather loose cabbage and one pound of minced and seasoned meat to every two of cabbage. The cabbage is washed and plunged into boiling salted water for ten or fifteen minutes, aud then taken out very much wilted, which permits the deft lingers of the pretty cook to carefully unfold and ay back every leaf, and then a little meat is spread on each one and it is folded back in place until all the meat is safely spread and carefully folded over the rest. Tapes are then tied around the whole to keep it in place, and it is boiled slowly for three solid hours. The. soup or sauce, which remains is kent for the next day. A sauce is made w itll a little of this with vinegar and flour, ii is just irs good cold as hot. and. like beans, is better for every time it is warmed over, and is a pretty dish to look at. pation, learn everything there is to be known about it. Then do your work in the best way that it can be done. Be satisfied with nothing less than thin Stick to it faithfully, dav in and dav out. Then you will never be turned out of your place because you are of no service to your employer. Do you want to earn §500? Then write the essay for which the American Economic association have offered • that amount as a prize. The essay is to be on the subject of women wage earners. The essays must lie sent, before Nov. I, to Richard T. Ely, secretary of the American Economic association, Baltimore, Md. There will be also a second prize of $200. Each essay must lie typewritten, must not contain over 25,000 words and must lie signed by a fictitious name. A sealed envelope accompanying the essay will contain the real name and address of the writer. Anybody may compete. Some of tile points to be covered are: The early and present condition of women wage earners, their growth in numbers, the present extent of their sphere of labor, the evils connected with their occupations and the remedy for these. The widow of Gen. Grant is an honest woman, anyhow. When asked whether she preferred to have the exposition of 1892 in New York, she answered that she really didn't know enough about the World’s fair to give an opinion on the subject. It is said that a number of Riston society ladies are reading law with prominent attorneys of that city, simply for the purpose of improving their minds. Miss Annabel Curry is a Michigan young lady who is taking the law course of three years at Boston university. Her father is the owner of vast mining properties, and Miss Curry is studying law so as to be able to draw up lier father’s contracts and attend to the legal features if his business. This bright and pretty law student is only IS. Of the few women lawyers that have thus far had good success in actual practice, Ix'ila Josephine Robinson, of Boston, is one of trie most highly qualified. She graduated in the Boston University Law school in 1881, in the honor list. Tire Massachusetts legislature passed an especial enabling act permitting women to practice, and after a proper examination she was admitted to the bar. She has a prosperous practice. One case she has in hand is a peculiarly important one, involving the right to tax a mortgage on church property. She has written an excellent book or two on legal topics. One is called “Law Made Easy,” and is designed to give the general public information such as it needs in the transaction of daily business. A.t the breakfast to Amelia B. Edwards, in Boston, Lucy Stone told how, in the days when women first began to speak in public, one bitter winter night in a New England town the windows were opened from the outside and a stream of ice cold water was suddenly turned upon her, but this did not daunt her, nor stop her speech. Once.a pistol was fired at Anna Dickinson on the stage, and the ball cut off a lock of her hair, but she did not flinch a ha irs breadth. There were heroes in those days, and they were women. If you are in a crowded theatre and somebody cries “Fire,” throw up your hands and scream and rush towards the doorway. It will help on the panic. Then when you reach the middle aisle faint and fall over. Do. especially if you weigh two or three hundred pounds. Nothing shows off womanly sensibility like fainting in a crowd. This will help on the panic amazingly, and maybe two or three, persons will thus lie crushed to death who would otherwise get off alive. Soros is has discussed the charge that the married lives of literary women arc unhappy, and decided that it is not true. ELIZA ARCHARD CONNER. THE DEBUT OE A BUD. THE WOMEN OF THE TI ME. Wilt Tkty Ar* Doing. TRI ak Sec ated talking About' Copyrighted 189C—For Th* Hawk-Etk. ! Is it proper for a woman to wear a decollete gown? Yes, if she has a pretty neck; otherwise not. A handsome society woman was telling me the other day what she would not do if she were a man. She said this: “If were a man I would not expectorate in public places.” Sometimes the best of us are mean enough to listen to conversation that is not. addressed to us. Going home one night in an elevated train in New York, I over lies rd two gentlemen discussing the changes they would make in their business this year. They were talking something about the clerical and bookkeeping department. One. a keen faced North Ireland man, remarked suddenly: “There are two young ladies at work now, but they are of no service to us. We ought to have a man. The other agreed with him. They finally concluded they would call in an expert accountant and bookkeeper occasionally and pity him $10 an afternoon for his services. They would thus get more work for less money _ and more satisfactory work than both the girls did working all the time. And the second man said: “I will suggest to the young ladies that we shall manage the work ourselves hereafter.” So two girls were thrown out of employment to make room for a masculine expert who would get $10 for an afternoon’s work. The business men were not to blame. The only ones to blame were the girls themselves. They were inefficient. If they had learned their business and minded it as they should have done, they themselves might have been the expert accountant and How TRI* Momentous Matter Ie Mea-lied. {Copyrighted ISHO, for Th* Hawk-Ey*.1 T IS not so long ago, even among fashionables, that the introduction of a young woman into society here in America has stood out a- a matter of isolated interest. To the debutante herself of course it is and must remain an event of para-mount i m por-tance, and lier circle of relatives and intimate friends are usually disposed to be kindly enthusiastic, but, until comparatively recently, society at large has taken tile matter with the degree of calmness engendered by familiarity, and has not been (shaken to the core over the announcement tliat one more young girl is emancipated from the thralldom of school. Nowadays, however, the. entrance into society of a daughter of the house is a matter of considerable moment. So far as t he actual event is concerned it may lie a simple or aa elaborate one, according to inclination of the family taste and purse. Many young women enter the social arena by way of a 5 o'clock tea. others through the medium of a ten thousand-dollar coming out bail— the etiquette prescribed in either case is the same. To lead up to the climax, whether it be the lesser or the greater function, it appears to lie possible that on the part of the mother or other chaperon a considerable amount of judgment or the reverse may be displayed. The exact age for a fashionable young woman to make her bow before her world is not set down with definitive cer tainty. The best authorities agree that anywhere from IT to 20 it may happen. Before IT is unadvisable, unless a bevy of girls but little younger are crowding tile debutante outof the schoolroom, aud later than 20 is perhaps unnecessary, except where two or three unmarried sisters are still on that portion of the social carpet allotted to Hie family. Under these circumstances an entrance into society may be judiciously delayed and without explanation. Debuts usually take place at the beginning of the win ter s gayety. The post-Lenten season is so brief that a young girl would scarcely be introduced before the exodus to Eu rope begins, followed by the hegira to the different summer resorts, and society is not massed again until the snow flies. A spring debutante would thus have the onus of one season without the plea4 ore and profit which ought to accrue from its duration.    No chaperon makes any such blunder    as that. What the wise mamma does, however, during the short Easter spurt is to let the intelligence become general along the fashiona- ____v     ^    We line of club room and boudoir that amusement has    not all been on his    side.    I ing    to    secure    pecuniary    independence    I the craning season will find her daughter There are    few    things    that make    a    but-1 for    women    have    to    contend    against. it J* J Gud* wfrau    in    nu charge’s behalf with such society readers whose favor or disfavor will contribute largely to the future “bud's1* success cr failure. This done she carries the eznhryo bdle off to Europe, if possible, for a hasty trip, presumably to order the coming out trousseau. Whether such be actually the case or not, the trip presupposes it and gives to the New York toilets, if they must be such, an imported halo accepted na very desirable. Speaking of this, by the way, it is related of a young New 'York girl w ho was so addicted to the pan* chase©! garment* brought from the other side tint on the occasion of her first visit to a well known modiste in Paris she asked thoughtlessly to be shown some “imported wraps.” “Imported, mademoiselleP* exclaimed the astonished Frenchwoman. “Imported from where, please?” And then “mademoiselle” realized that she was on their native heath. To return to the etiauette of debuts. Just before the formal event the yotmg woman’s mother and her elder unmarried sisters—if she have them—leave their own, with their father’s and brothers’ cards, for all acquaintances. Following this formality after a short interval invitations, including the card of the debutante, are issued for the actual coming out “function,” whatever that is sa be—tea. reception or ball. Soc iety is usually kind to the young maiden about to enter its charmed circle. It is verv kind to her if she is set against a moneyed background. In any event it comes graciously to welcome her, pays le-r gentle deference, and altogether reassures her with its soft and flattering treatment. Many a debutante, the most of them indeed, goes to sleep on the night of her formal coming out with cheeks burning and heart fluttering with excitement over her importance as it has seemed to be indicated by the homage and plaudits of those who have crowded about her. And there are about as many who close their eyes after then’ first essay in society upon neutral ground with a mortifying sense of having been one among a large num-ber of others and not an especially prominent one either. The ordeal for a “bud” is not her debut, but the first few af fairs at which she assists afterwards. Society, which apparently rushed at hor with open arms, has recoiled and now stands back coldly critical. It is then that her novice touch upon the cogs and wheels of fashionable machinery becomes apparent to ber, and they grate dismally sometimes upon her ears. “I will never forget,” said a middle aged matron, whose fame as a belle during her young ladyhood still endured, “the agony of the first dinner at which I assisted as a full fledged member of society. A rallier reserved appearing young man took me in. and when we were seated I discovered tliat mamma was a long distance away, separated from me by a huge floral arrangement and a wide brandling candelabrum of blazing wax lights. All at once I became panic stricken, my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth, my hands grew cold and so numb I could with difficulty unfold my napkin. Frantically J tried to recall some of mamma’s maxims for just this occasion-—a dinner. ‘Be a good listener,’ she had told me, but my escort was silent; ‘or if you talk try to draw ©ut your companion.’ I glanced around for a possible subject and my eye fell upon a painting on Die wall opposite—a race with the hounds. ‘Are you fond of hunting, Mr. B ?’ I hazarded. *T nevertried it,’ he said, and I replied, quite stupidly, “Oh, I did not know!1 and could tliink of nothing more to say. "We ate our oysters without a word, drank our soup in solemn silence, and the fish was set down before either of us spoke again. Then in desperation I recalled another of mamma’s bits of advice, ‘If you are at a loss for something to talk about speak quickly of the subject nearest at band,' and with a sudden energy I turned to my neiadilxw and blurted out, ‘Do you Know'tmsis my first dinner, and I am horribly frightened?’ Instantly lie set down the glass he was raising to his lips and faced me. ‘Why.’ he said with a smile, ‘how awfully good of you! so aru I.’ It seems he I was about as much of a novice at dinners as I, and he was especially alarmed to find himself the escort of such a self possessed young person as he took me to be. That was a great consolation to me afterward—that one man at least did not take me for the bread and butter miss I was.” It carmot be said, though, til at the character of the debutante in New York society—and it is the New York debut which must lie considered, since all American circles get their manners, as they get their fashions, from the continent’s metropolis—partakes largely of that of the traditional bread and butter mi sr. She may be a trifle embarrassed and self conscious at times, but she has 3een too carefully prepared for lier career to be Cither awkward or foolish. From the French nurse of infancy, employed with a direct view to the accent of IS, through the playmates of childhood carefully selected, looking toward the time when she and they will meet in the social world; at school and at home, by motlier, governess and master, it has been forever impressed upon her mind that all her progress tended to one goal, the debut in society, and naturally she is well instructed in all that pertains to it. Her knowledge is. therefore, sufficient; she lacks only the wisdom of experience. and she gets it speedily by intuition and absorption rather than the passage of time. The development of & debutante into a belle is a most interesting process. It does not come to every one of them to attain this latter distinction; indeed, to so few that the belles of every season’s list of “buds” are quickly counted. “Next to being an English peeress, said a fashionable girl recently, “I would rather be a New York belle.’’ “And I fancy.” replied her lively companion, a sister “bad.” “that many a New York belle who has become an English peeress would t*3 glad to change back again. which is doubtless true, although in making the assertion the speaker did not voice the opinion of her kind. For it i3 a sad but existing fact that the British alliance is still a most tempting allurement to most American maidens. A brilliant marriage of some sort, na five or foreign, is part of a debutante’s creed. All lier teachings are towards the proper climax of her career—a wedding —and she prefers not to contemplate a modest one. What she is rarely taught, and it is a pity, since even buds may blossom and wither on the parent stem, is to wear gracefully and with honor the coif of St. Catharine! BIL MS TRAVELS. BREIT BOBS OF SENTIMENT OB THE “WILD AID WOOLLY WEST." Hie Upper Mississippi—Divergent Editorial Writing—Tales Told in a Locomotive Cab-Sorrows of a Canny Scot. [Copyrighted 1*93-For The Hawx-Ey* I In the Ozone Oocxtxt. ) rn the Hands a Porter Who Prtsbis -Hihseie at My Expense. * We are now ut tho head of navigation in the upper Mississippi country, which even in winter is most beautiful. I hopi' next summer to take a boat at Buffalo, and go the length of the lakes to Duluth. thence down the railroad—I leave the name blank tiii I van get a reply to me letter a just wrote to me superintendent—to St. Paul and thence down to St. Louis. From St. Louis to Omaha and the mountains. The upper Mississippi Iris never ’neon adequately described. Though I lived there twenty years, I was always so busy trying t < solve great national questions that I di i not get a chance. I was endeavoring part of the time to prove tliat free trade would keep people poor and break up happy homes, aud a part of the time I was proving tliat a high tariff would do the same. One was as easy os the other and the (salary the same. » ming up the road tile other day. wit tne broad aud decollate bosom of Lake Pepin glistening in the crisp air aud pulsating I ion en th the bright, declining sun and swiftly darting by tile bistort Maiden Rock from which the beaut if u but plainly educated Indian girl leapt ti lier death, falling to the cruel rocks re low with the low , dull plash of a di-beveled egg oil the broad brow of ; lecturer, I thought o; those dear old day when Minnehaha had not !>een embalmed in '■•jug and interurban lots U-twa en St Paul anil Minneapolis could bt'bought for ii string of glass beads, even a William Penn purchased the -tale of Pennsylvania. lr was in Pennsylvania only a short time ago that we met, running out OI Altoona, the justly celebrated conductor who can extend his cars, like u jaek-in the-!"»x. at will. I do not recall hi name, but I do remember that after had asked him something about whethe we wore late or not several times. In held his in-ad down to my lins and shot his ear out at me like the warm, dank nose of a baby elephant. He has a national reputation thai way, it see ms, but I did not know it. Others who knew both of us enjoyed the meeting very much. Since that I have been less in quisitive about trains. One can hardly realize how strange the sensation ir witeti h** is greeted in that way by on to whom he has no letter of introduction. T also took a ride out of Philadelphia iii tie* cab of a locomotive engine later on. it was the Henry F. Shaw of the Baltimore and Ohio, ami I had to get up at 6 o’clock a. in. to do it, but as I went to lied at 5:48, having been to the Union League club to set' some, friends the evening before, who had detained me, it did not matter. Securing a pound of cotton waste—T do not mean this in the society sense, for that kind of exit ton waist has little to do with tIii letter—T went down to the B. <fc O depot. ami. looking once more at my little volume rn mocha mea I terms, so that i coui«k talk intelligibly with the engild or. I ciuialiered up the front stoop lie eni». We rode oui, to Chester am back. ’Prat is all I know about it. lean I a roar, a hiss, a snort, a whistle n ring, the (puck rumble of tile pilot asp of the mud valve, tile low* vi brat iou of the crown sheet!, the Burgin the cut off, the sigh of the monkey wrench, and ive were off. Is not rho life of the engineer one of extreme peril?” I asked Harry S. Burall our handsome engineer. lie did not hear me, for it was a suburban train and as we were quite lm-y stopping and starting lie wotted not what I said. And, as we say in England, do yon not ent er w ith hearty /rest, after awhile, upon tins jolly life as you gayly tool rap down the wold and out across I ti; tbs, but we would often, when it was time lo go home, offer to shake, each niter for the drinks. I do not drink now, even beer." And what was this shaking for the drinks?” “Why, nothing ar all, only we shook poker dice for the beer, and the one who lost paid for it. And how old was this flossy haired child you sneak of?" ‘Sue was then 12 years old. At tho ie of the accident, however, she was about 18. It was a foggy night. We were late. You will notice ti tat I use good grammar. Put the printer on that, will you. please? Story firemen and engineers always use poor grammar and pell a little queer. They also swear a little aud lie. The actual fireman aw engineer does not do that unless he is filling up a young person. We generally talk very little to i Liters in. the cab, foi we have to look Aint for our trains. We are not here to sit for our photographs oi tell pleasing prevaricat ions to people whe get large prices per column for them afterward; but we have a little open stretch of road litre, and sol will talk between work, as you seem to be a plain man, barring the high hat. which has no business on a locomotive'.” Well?" Well, it was a foggy night, and we hail to hustle not- only lo make our regular lime bur to k 'ep out of the way of I all* train-. It was right along here that I liioki t ahead between scoops of coal and saw a girl going down rile track with her Lick ibis way. and I concluded he was cry ii.g a good deal. for she had lier muff up lo her eyes all the time, and. f course, that kepi her from heart ne the train. We whistled, but she didn’i lear. I told Harry, and he reversed and ill that, but I saw I'd got. to got out un the pilot and help, no doubt: se) I crept oui there in just time to catch this fair young girl by her blonde and beautiful Psyche knot and swing lier free of tin track." “And did you save hor?” “Yes. I saved her. Ii wasn’t romantic, and ytm ll have to change it a good deal if you print it; but that was tin way ir hapjiened.” “Who was it:” “It was this little blonde girl o Mileses.” “And what did hesav about it?” “Well, first- he didn't know what to say, and then he says, for he is not a tu;ui of many words, aud also lie is a j»oor man. but he did catch me by the hand arui bis chin trembled, for she was bis only child and her motlier is dead, hut he took a Sva*ap of cot ton waste out Alf my pocket and wiped Ida eyes with ii aud said, ‘Old man, I cannot recall what fathers do when their dear and on Iv daughters are jerked from I he jaws of death, but if you wild excuse the bluntness of a plain oh! man I will shake you for the drink -.” At St. Paul I rn«'t a very tall Scotchman. I am six feet high, but he looks down ou my broad and desolated skull *»•» do the gallery people when I hobnob wiih the orchestra on an opening night containing a divertissement. “You must be very fortunate to be so large and tall,” I said; “you certainly command tin* respect of every one.” “Yes, I get all the respect I want, but I get do comfort. I travel a good deal and I suffer a good deal. My wife is quito short. You know tail men always marry -hon wives. Well, she cannot touch her feet to the floor, and J ani knocking my brains out all the time. In a streetcar her feet swing like a pendulum and my legs reach across the* aisle when I sit down and my silk hat looks like an aeri rn on ions porcupine ail tile time. Th** -traps on a street car make a tall man buy a new hat every ,-ix weeks and a -bort woman can’t reach them without tearing out her sleeves. “I don't know how we are going to remedy this thing, but I suffer especially, for I can’t sleep iu an ordinary Iwrth at aii. I have a ix-u made to order at home, but I can't put it in a shawl strap and Trav.I with it. I lit- diagonally, like, ar. unprincipled politician, nil night, and then in the morning, while I tie nu i -hoes, all the people in Use train walk VAI me on their way to the dining car mu J! stout man in tile upper berth fads int: ot it astride mv neck. lit; says, SOMETHING OF THIS WELL-KNOWN STUDENT OF EDMAN NATURE. Men He Has Received Tips From—Talmage as a Liberal and Sociable Passenger-Jay Gould Ibm5! Ut Ta' Up Freely. A row ol or \ cl low I perchance the stun' I mein of h been doer America. after a n at ut experience in cast -inert d there can t ne metal buttons, a black a haujhtv air, a tip: or, v travelers abroad, same face, but no no tip. thus ha** ‘ping oar Tarter of neb a Lid fellow, > gen id jud ge cif human I Ii in almost unlimited suat study of it is con-wonder that the lore be f {tons, th Mines ne.l the Tic isn’t He is I win irter look *h make-J Burnet im •- suriv. s with disdain greater men s curt in man* \\ hen curt he when urly he has rid-» sign of a tip and dozen towels ami > poor fellow must knows, and with ’ f rom I he weary beck aud call lie is legs are going like perdition beating tan s that J. i I. \\ L’p* * hot iii i>o w id die iii broid et  ^ o    _    had    $20    a day. Sloppy, half work is ©ne ally makes him feel in the end tliat the I of the greatest evils those who are try- Minnng the debutantes, and especially wil From a ISrofcss**»»Ht standpoint. An old beggar is seated is a doorw ay with a placard hung about his neck inscribed “Blind fqom binh-” Another pairing by reads the inacrip-aad comments thus; “My eye! moment the ruddy fireman, Met/.gar. swung wide the lire iug R. b. E.. ran a poker into rev of lite engine, letting out a i; reached for my litho and e limbs, gently scorching tho v at th.* base of my Dr. Jigger L rvvcar, roared at the top of its lungs i drowned ray voice. • And do you not at tiroes have to throw her over and run for the woodbox or jerk the poor child of some unknown Pennsylvania duke from tho track, landing her back to lier parents un-nwithed and receiving $2.80 therefor, at me same time getting bud off for thirty days for not keeping out of the way of the regular through ex pre--, tieside having to pay for a Pullman ear, winch is worth far more than a child, e-pocialiy where it was a p.wr chiiu with several brotiiers anil sisters? Au I do you not think, seriously, that a child or two, more or less, especially among working people, should have little to do with the running time of trains?’’ At this point I was quite exhausted, and ao was the engine. So the engineer did not hear me. I took off my plug fiat, put out a little fire that bad started on the top and said; I suppose you have loved ones win recognize your wId.-tie aud at night put a lamp in the window two times if well, three times for croup, lour tiroes fot w.iims arui fir* tim*-- to indicate ’buck w heat cakes for breakfast.’ ’ He puffed the handle of the under feed throttle and threw a Urge lump of Dim-luinoua coal at a dog who was not of gentle birth a-> we scooted into a tunnel and all conversation wa- drowned in the turmoil of an echoing yell and screech and roar and spit and double shuffle as tile eccentric chased tho drawhead over the swift fiy;ng cylinder escapement with a doubly echoed statement lik* thai of AYall street on a busy day. S« he loe»t tliat remark. Bat oh, sir.” I exclaimed to the fireman. who loves a beautiful girl name© Annie, “can you not tell me something brave and beautiful that you liave done, something that I can make a dear little story of and print, something that will bring tears to eyes unused to weep, something thai I can put in the holiday num ber of a nice paper with pictures in iii Did you never save any oner” “Yes,” he said, as he mopped his brow with a firemans handkerchief. “I usee to know a gentle oid cuss here on our run who did odd jobs and worked faith fully. He had a sweet little flaxen haire child. Can you use that?”    v “Well, he used to come down town evenings and we would meet at ‘The Busy Bee* to visit and play a game SMSlete,' Wa UTH Bbtffd fer«ka in-11 falls over mv rod g<K*s away, and ps on mc through r,>- va itll his valise, iii art ait OpJ* tic right, corno round I hear people -.y ail the tine how adv’ to l*e so large aud tall; but the v\f.rid is not made f »r largo people or tin a people, it was made for middle bize people, mentally and physically. get on the Lvst. This is no place for extremes. If you are a    go to tile in-titutiof* for fool-, if you area genius you will be to I era red us an eccentric but diseased mind. It is better to k *ep in the middle of tile road. “By the wav,” said ho, in conclusion, I see that v on are in ore* way the superior of f’haunc**y M. Depew. ” “Thank yon, how?” “Well. be say- that the fatal mistake of Lis lifetime wa- in making a humorous speech. There's w here you have the* idvnntag** of Chauncey. I think.” I ll..mkcd him again and th**n strode Iowa th^ walk, fiercely kicking the frozen debris from my path. sleeping car n upon thai wh; -tare; t hat he i m r and at Olin? is out of patten den 400 miles without with the lo-s of a naif a pillowslip. These th account for, he well uothiug of recoin pens traveler, whose every has answered until I back on him. it re no wonder that he is sour and that his answers to the troublesome old lath - many demands arc lacking in spirit aud fully unsatisfactory to the fu-yv bunch of femininity, who would ask tile porter to fan her all day and never put up a cont. The oh! porn r- -not th** sallow, greasy fellow who stands at the end of his car for the tir.-t week or month or year—but the old poro r. the ti ilow whose locks have U>eoiue gray in the service, can tell many an interesting story between the hundred fragmentary r marks to impure ing pa.-** agers while the train lies in the station just before going out on its run. tic remembers ail about the great men he has looked after in his day; he can tell you to a half nullifier tile size of this president s boot or that governor's shoe; he ('an tell you what the company is making on this run or that run if yon ask him in a confidential way: he knows a grcA'ii travel* r when he sees him, and can spot ii man who w;ui never iii a sleeper before the moment he rests his eyes on bim: lie knows the newly married couple as they pass sheepishly up the aisle and east blushing glances at each other. Just before 9 o’clock most any evening one can find young and old sleeping car porters in plenty at the Union depot. There are numbers of them there ai early as 5 in the afternoon, but in ordet to sec the old fellows in the greatest number it is well to be on hand after S o’clock. If you catch one of the old {Hjrt»*rs in a bright mood at this time and ask him the name of the richest man he ever Waite.I on in a sleeper he will pr* .raptly say Jay < Lmid. The great railroad magnate does not ride in a common -leerier with Hie herd of earth any more. lait he used to, and there are few of th* real old porters now running wiu> did not black th** famous financier's shoes and brush his clothes some ti me or other, before the* great Gould had risen to Ids present greatness. The question atone* arises, “Was Gould a iilj**ral passenger?*' The old porter would answer emphatically that ho was riot. The Brooklyn divine. Rev. T. De Witt Talmage, is a ing car port good old gi ntloman travel* a great deal in tilling his lecture d.des, and he frequently finds it necessary to rest his weary bones on one. of tho bunks of a sleeper. Before turn iug in he a1 way n makes it a point to get acquainted with the porter and have a merry chat with him. When lie arises in the morning ho gives lire large shoes a careful looking over, smiles one of those broad smiles of his. and if the porter happens to bt about lie r» members him. lf the porter isn't handy the great divine looks him up and caiJ-i his attention to the facttfuA he is idiom; to Im; Tipp! <1. Talmage, like many great men who orca aerially gel off to themselves where t hey are eithei not known or not recognized, stoops tc gabble with p**i .on- of a degree that hit! g(S/<l flock it. the City oft I lurches would not care to see him mingle with. European travelers in th re country find high favor iii the jiorter - eyes, for they tip lib' l illy. Theatrical parties are in bad «idol* with the sleeping ear fellows, for ii re said they m-ver think of the porter. But with all his di-apj*ointmerits and bad lack the black servant growe gleeful vvhen Ie-.ire overs a Grand new groom ou ii is c:..r. Such a j**r -on is general iv a “fish. Th. exj»ern*nced porter rarely makes a mistake in picking him oui, and bandied well he always develops something worth working for. In th< first piaci pran a I favorite with sleep-•r- the continent ov#-r. Th ii b tire shires must be blacked several times daily; all signs of dust or lint must l*e kept away from inc young man - clothing and bit s of choice scenery along tne lute of tic* day s ride Mould be pointed out to lie* blushing bride. The A Talking i'ce*..mer. A nan down in Cohrain township. Lancaster county, lost his iKinston a short time ago in a way that he thought for a time was rather mysterious, blithe now understand-. Three or four years jo be was allowed a pension for bota I disabiliry, and lie received the sum of $1,500. which he claimed Le due him. Aft- r that he received $14 a month. About two months ago tile pensioner, who makes po-t- and rails and sets fence, was at work near lire home. when a well dressed and pleasant looking strung, r came by and engaged nim hi conver.- at ion. As the pen-loner hewed the po<*. the newcomer began talking a’nou that kind of work, and asked him how much Le could do in a week. The pen.-ioner, who i- inclined to brag about himself, bahi that he could make more posts and set more fence in a day than any other juan in the neighborhood. Th** granger soon went away. and >-,ince that time the countryman ha-not receive*; a pension. Ile has since iearn**d that the stranger wa* a detective in the employ of the government, who had been ,-ent there t*> find out whether ho was as badly disabled as he claimed to be.—Reading (Pa.) Times. green t rav* sleeper bfi porter, but aumail nut The sleep a national but when swath a bro that one • Europe wo ten tire an r'er he**'- profit that student ^ ti amusemei. re is of ie furnish ire a wor regear jitter of America!* •mb], in. He will live here, ic. a Item pts to cut a w*id* id he is ii failure. It is «*»'• I the guild once though lid ». a line field for an av-i . vnerLoere! servant like himself, lh went to France, Kustia, Germany. England and Italy, but he found non** o! Lie liG rality of the traveler who rod*- with him in America. Alter go mg ail o * r tie- countries named he at last brought up at Genoa. He looked about tic- town and iu ii is walk came upon the ira ii iff the town council. Ile entered th** anteroom, and while standing there caught sight of a bust at one end of tire apartment. Ile went over and sroxi i.i front of it; then he got on his knees, and removing hi* hat, raised his eves to the bust and said: “J thank you for (liecovering America.* It was the bust of Columbus that til© homesick ]M»rter bowed to. An American witnes—d the seen*- and. taking com passion on ids emi.L-uiatic countryman, paid his way back to tile Un ital <~Tntnn —Kansas Chiv* Times. Teii(i«r Hr»rt*4 I Ady of the House—If I give yon some food you must take this carpet and beat it. Tramp—Madam. I am too tender hearted to beat anything.—Lawrence Ameri" can. Pretty Guod KTid«nc« to tit# Contrary. Dude (between puffs)—Aw, excuse me, bot does my cigarette smoke blow in your face? Irate Individual (decidedly)—I guess not; you’re /till aliwe. — Philadelphia Theft Are Peen There. “Oh, there’s no country like England.* exclaimed an enthusiastic Anglomaniac. “And yet you cannot say that it i* * peerless nation." replied an American." Monsey’s Weekly. With but a Single Thought. Yan Duffers—I w ish I were your inu^i •o I might hold both your hands. Mias Keene—Indeed I do, too. I thin* a lankly muff is real nioa—Pack. ;