Weekly Cincinnati Times (Newspaper) - May 24, 1888, Cincinnati, Ohio
THB ClNCIiUfATI WEBKIV TWB8, THVRSDA1T, S1A¥ 84, 1888.HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL
SHlRIiKY n \UF. ON THF. DIFFEU-ENT TYPES OF WOMEN.
The Best to Wesr—Needs Common to All-Warm Booms and Li^ht Dress-inK—Quiet of Nerves—No Overwork —What the Doctors Bar About Nerves and Good Looks.
[WriUeu (or tUe Time».)
A liopeful sign in society is the spreading persuasion that all men and women do not admit of the same moral and physical treatment. Those good people who ask in all simplicity for directions to improve their looks as they might for a receipt to restore furniture polish, will bear a good deal of interesting information. The first question in return is, what type of person is to be considered. True as it is that of one blood are all men on the face of the earth, yet that blood has many blendings, and the wonder ot Nature, for which we are freely to give thanks, in its inñnite variety.
The meeting of races, and the wide contrasts of climate have given American society the finest varieties in the types of women. The American of the best sort, whether professional man or man of affairs, clerk or artisan, is the Greek of his time, capable, critical, of artistic instincts, quick and well vitalized in mind and body. In time lie will bring the woman to the level of his mate. Just now, in the importation and announcement of so<;ial rules and ideas, assimilated neitlier to the circumstances of the majority or to o\ir political order, the efiect is deterioration in the sex. Hut the material for beauty is as good as the world affords. We have the pure Scot-.tish blonde, with tlie satiny skin, the looks of feathery curl like satfron thistle down the clear blue eyes. Generations of outdoor living with diet of oatcake, porridge and marmalade have brought this marvel of complexion, high spirits and endurance. The golden blonde is rare here as everywhere, a type only useful in pictures and tableaux. It may be angelic, but the place for angels is anotlier world. People expect too much of blondes dories, and credit them with too little, Tliey demand angelic temper, which is apt to be put upon, evoking the spirit of the archangel wlien he contended for the body of Mose.s. and people are not clear whether it is angel or dragon. The auburn beauty wears better and fares better in the world, whether it be the English pictorial face with marble neck, damask cheek, violet eyes, and a silken bounty of hair, or the Cy'thesiean beauty of Venus, of all types nmichless in enslavement since the world began. Such was the style of Cleopatra, Asposia, Helen of Troy, and it is saia of Eve liersglf. Such later were Titian’s Bella Donna and bis favored olioicc of beaiities—with hair of electric, waving, auburn, melting into the sunshine, changeful with all the amber tinges, a flower like complexion, warm in the cheek»,, and liquid eves, dark as grapes. The combination of black eyes and blonde hair marks equal warmth of temperament and quickness of mind, in the great susceptibility, which is one of tlie greatest means of impressing others. It is curious tliatnot one of the goddesses was pictured with blue eyes, save the cool Athene, guardian of housekeeping and the arts! Tlie same order of combination, the auburn hair with the peculiar play of color which marks a high nervous condition, and gray eyes that darken give the highest mental and practical power. One
■ucb woman, or man, rightly trained, is a ■ I by tM wosld. 1»
force to make itseU felt time, people of wealth will have the wisdom to select young persons and nve them fivorable training to develop their abilities.
Depth of coloring shows endurance, and the auburn blonde, the chataine or brown auburn, usually with beautifully brilliant brown eyes, type of the finest eenius, merge in the delightful family of Drown snd dark-haired beauty. Queeu of the latter is that Duchess of Richmond, for whom King Charles II. was miuded to divorce his Queen, but whose father prudently married her below the throna. dne has the face of Helen, no marble fairer or more classically cut, with the spirit, love aud laughter of a Venua in its expression. i never realized the story of Troy, or the fabled
fower of beauty till looking at her picture, he Viscountess Beresford was one of the radiant dark-haired beauties of Victoria’s earlier reign, a woman to charm a cabman by the archness and kindness of her look, but one who of all the court best knew bow to carry herself like a peeress The b^uties who waar best into age have been the warm, deep-hued blondes, who are fabled never to turn gray, and the dark ooroplexioned woman, for the olive beauties turn grim as tiiey loose the red in the cheeks, and wrinkle unnecessarily.
Now what blondes of all sorts need to lay to heart, is the indispensable necessity for them of outdoor life. Not hours of amusement, at tennis, or walking or driving, but llvitic out of doors, and in suushlue when it sbuies at all. They have tht capacity for large vitality, and the source of all that is vital is the sun. They should never choose indoor empluvment, as clerks or teachers, bat turn gardeners, walking agents market women in preference, like wiry, flaxen haired German I knew, ones maid to a lady rank, who married a young farmer and drove round to sell the produce. In her fresh trim linen gown and shade hat she dreaMd the part perfectly, and with the light spring wagon and good borse, driving over the Berwn hills to carry her aolcien butter and ruddy pears, or early ‘Balada, she was as mucli in place, as ladylike and pleasant a creaturs as ons could wish a woman to be. The time is coming when inscsptibls womsii, as all blondes are, will not shut themsslves UD in schoolkeep-ing or housskoeping, to grow acid, wrinkled and fnrrv faced before they are Uiirty, but take to tbemselves little acres to grow fruit and flowers, under intelligent and prufit-able '*high culture."
The needs common to all women ars so i»mmoM that few regard their importance. To say that warm rooms are essential to health and beauty sounds like a truism, but tne fact is that among well todo Glasses it is tbs rarest tiling to And a really wsrm house. A beated house, burning up cmI and vitality together, Is common, but not oneao soundly built that rooms do not readily cool off, and where comfort ii felt with moderate heat, or where draughts do not sow rheumatic twinges,with wrinkles to match. Out of doors, dress and sxerciss keep up the natural heat. In doors, the quieter life end abutting oft the greater part of the sun's rays, render the esse different The constant tempersture of all occupied rooms Should be enough to keep tlie blood at its norihai best of 08 degrees without siiy chili-
ing or ohsnge—aa^ y75 to 78 degrees by day and 18 degrees lower by night Inatead,
when ateam ia up, or the furnace burns up, you will find the glass at 88 degrees on tne north wall of the room. Two hours or lees after the heat goes down, ths thin walla lose their best immediately, end it ia 48 degrees in the asme place, l describe what I have noted repeatedly in houses where comfort was supposed to be the tint ron-sideration. nuch variations art snough to try ths strongest frames. To say nothing of neuralgia and lung troubles, it is iniporaibls to keep a good oomplexioii through such ruinous changM of tenlpe^ Sturt. The heat dries it into fine wrinkles, the cold sends the blood inward, leaving ths (see blue and fsaturss pinched. Let the
imsband who wishes to keep his wife in her freshness be careful that she has warm moms to live in. The injury to the circulation which destroys ail bloom and elasticity, strikes deeper in time, causing failure ot the heart, or chronic inflanimntions. As you value bloom aud long life, never pernnt yourbclf to be chilly for five minutes. No matter what thermometers say, if you are out of order enough to feel chillv, the thing to do is to raise the heat till the blood absorbs heat and prows warm again. For heat is life, and the chilly prei'epis of certain hygienists who seem to consider comfort as A crime have cost nnsusjiected victims.
The necessity of thick dressing that follow.» uiwn living in half warmed houses is seldom regarded as an injury, but is one which tell» most on a woman n licu she needs every point in her favor. Few women reach tliirty or thirty-five without spinal strain, from having children, or from accident or over exertion in some shape. Nerve ailments and ’‘working on one's nerves'’ draw directly on the spin.al cord and exhaust it. one marked elfect ot which is that compression and weight of clothing become intolerable. A spirited, active, healthy girl feels good in her snug corset and heavily trimmed skirt which serves to balance and trim her free movement like the weiglit on the heels of a trotting horse. ii j’ou allow the apt comparison. But when the drafts of life have told on the lowered vitality, the first symptoms perhaps will he the unhearahe we*ight of clothes, of bedding
and boot-heels. wJijfle a close-litting glove is enough to cause faintness. This comes of
no fine lady airs, but is a well recognized ellectof that spinal disorder whoseoutcome is locomotor utaxis, and being berlridden for life. The nerves of hands’ and feet specially, being farthest from the heart-ptimp are least nourished in the famine of nerve force, and pressure and weight of shoes or gloves cut off still more of the feeble circulation, till the nerve centers, telegraphed speedily, feel the reilex injury and share in the exhaustion. This telis fearfully on looks. The hollowed eyes, the drawn mouth, the sinking of the features and contraction of tl»e eye all tell of sympathetic strain. If you ever had to sit in a cramped posture till your limbs ached you know the habitual feeling of these lesser spine troubles. The cure is simply making the woonan comfortable in every- least point, mental or bodily, and keeping her so till the strained muscles regain themselves. The gr&sshupiier is a burden-Hiff with quilted skirts 01 farmers’ satin or silk, and replace them in the down petticoats or the quilted wool which is almost as light. Change the lined and pleated dress shirt whose weiglit is mostly the wiggans and cambrics of the lining, and wear India twills or swansdown flannels for dresses and cloakings till strong enough to carry a plush cloak without feeling it. She must be a woman of pour taste and invention who can not make an invalid's simpler dress becoming, and wear it with a distinction of its own. If you tan’t bear the weight of jet wear lace. If you can't carrpr grosgain wear India silk or surah. lUs the unnecessary burdens women carry that crush out tlieir beauty and their youth.
Among New York beauties for nearly twenty years, nearly all have worn tlio impress of serene nerves. The younger Mrs. Stnvvesant, whose complexion was like a pink magnolia, it tliere were such a thiiig, with the velvety smoothness artists attempt in finished nnlrbles, was serenity itself, gracious, but caring ratiier to look on at the play, a aistinrtion in these days of “brilliant conversationisLs,’’ otherwise fatiguing chatterers. Mrs. Gierstadt, wife of the artist, kept the freshness of her charms religiously, it is said, declining family cares because they interfered with the pleasure of the refined society where she was a chief ornament. Mrs. Ames, wife of the artist long since dead, wa.s a woman o^ raost qtieetrty type, with tlie head of a statue crowned by dark bair worn coronetwise. Mrs. John Hassard, wife of the long known editor, was a woman of rich and refined beauty, as well as musical
iifts, whose liquid black eyes, almond loom and glossy dark bair relieved a satiny complexion of softeat, lightest olive. The only beautiful 'olonde 1 ever happened to see in New York was a teacher from the Normal Bchool, who liad the ta.»t« always to wear yellow or creamy tes roees and who with her thick amber hair, sherry brown eves and Greek face would have made Keats /all in love a^in, or at least fall to something. The society blondes are apt to be little girls with small, straight features and crinkly hair, of a salmon tinge, whereas a blonde to be worth looking at should be nobly bi# fairly built, with as much espieglérie as serenity in her ex-nression. Your quiet blondes and pert ulondesare alike tiresome. But the beauty of a city is by no means confined to its better circles. The most elegant woman in New York a dozen years since was in the showrooms of a French modiste, and her sedin-sante manners would have found many customers if they had been transferable as her bonnets. The next in beauty was the assistant of a French hairdresser in Union Square, and I would walk the island to see her SB she used to be. Two of the most charmiug young women in Boston to-day are in libraries, as perfect in profile, modeling figures and coloring as if they were young peereasei brought up for the beauty market. It ia perhaps as well that Harvard youth are not quick to recognize perfect profiles in quiet gowns and reserved mau-ners.
A chief of the Woman Suffraee clan Is wont to say that women all need to be set to work, except tlie few who overwork. Between ths idle Slid the overwrought it is dlfticnltto prescribe exercise. As Kmerson did not lay, but might have said with truth, average women are as lazy as they dare to be. I will not shun to declaré the whole fsct, and Bsy they need to work, not to exercise merely. The best linea of form and balance of nerve are gained by regular, actual labor in liouse or gardeii. The court physicians of Charles II.’s time prescrilieil that ths languid aud pletiioric noble ladies should exercise by rawing wood in their chambers for hours duilv, to ward off indigestion and disorder of the nerves. It is not hard work, not nearly so hard as rowing, and there are few exercises equal to it for ghring a noote turn of shoulder and round upper arm. The young women of English country houses have taken to amateur carpentry as a pastime, and they could hardly hit upon a surer mode of preserving good health and good looks,
Asanming Ooloasal Proportions.
Blaine ia thus again eliminsted from ths problem of tbs Republican nomination for the Pmldency and Bhsrmsn left tlis only figure who saanmea colossal proportions In a view of the outlook. That the prumtra of his nomination fur the Presidency is now of the brightest bis friends con unquestionably with good reaion believe, and the candid friends of other men are proving themselves not stow to scknowledge, witli every manifestation of friendly feeling and good will.
A new revivalist. Rev. J. B, Culpepper, has arisen in Ueor^o. This is tlie way be preacliee: "I would rather be a negro with red eyce, kinkv wool, boneleea nose and a hollow of the foot that mnkes s hole In the ground, than play poker till 1 o'clock in the morning and go bonio and deceive mv wife about it."
A gold watch which a Miiaouri farmer loet last fall, and (or the theft ot which he aoufht to send his hired men to prison, was found in the stomach of one of bit cowe which died the other day.BURDETTE ON POLITICS.
TUE HUMOBIST GIVES ADVICE TO ASPIRANT
For Political Honors, and Tells What He Knows About Politics—Some Suggestion.s to a Young Man-Holding the Pen and the Tongue.
[Written for the Time».!
Yos, niy son, I know tlie political fever has already commenced, and it will grow hotter with the weather; but don’t you meddle with politics. When you go into politics, ns I am grieved to see you have already done to the extent of ruining two suits of clothes with kerosene oil and the coat of your stomach with whisky—it would be much better for you to-day. .socially, morally, physically and financially, had you drank tlie kerosene and poured the whisky over your clothes, nltliough your patriotic exhilaration would have suffered—but when you do go into real politics, when you triumph, triumph pa-ciouslv, niagiiaiilmously, mercifully. But when the hour of «lefeat comes, as come it will, let me advise you to “die easy." Don’t kick. Don’t struggle after you áre dead. It distorts the countenance, contracts the limbs, lends the features a hideous expression of agony and hate, and terrifies the mourners. VVhen your time comes, ’’die easy." Don’t kick against manifest destiny. Remember tbat if is hard to fight the fatré. Now. when 1 read the returns after n certain election that affected me rather jiersonnlly, I quietly laid my liandsoiiie form down in calm though sorrowful resignation. I closed my eyes and folded my hands on my bosom aiid remained jiassive and quiet, and there wasn’t a prettier Republican “remains" i:i all this broad land than your late lamented subscriber. It took a great many thou.santl Republicans ten or twelvedayj toattain my state of sublime com|>osure, but they camo to it at last, and sec «how much time they lost. They ke^it anticipating the resurrection. Every time a triumi»liant Democrat blew his rejoicing horn tliey thought it was the trumpet of the Republican Gahriel, and jumped up in their grave clothes and went
tirancing around, and finally had to be :nooked in the head with an Oificinl Count before they would submit to the offices of the undertaker. Ibelievein pluck, mv son, I believe in grit; I have an abiding /uith in sand. I like to se«' a man fight who doesn’t know when he is licked, but I don’t like to see a man come howling back into the ring after he has been knocked out and the other fellow has gone awav with the gate money. “Die easy," my boy. you’ll look better, your friends and enemies alike will admire you all the more for it. and you’ll be in better condition for getting up 'when vonr party Gabriel sounds the trumpet. S'ow. bear this in mind. Paste it in your hat. 1 don’t know niurh about politics—I wish I had as many dollars as I don't know much about politics—but what I do know I know for keeps, and I know it is always becoming for the party that gets its neck cut off to “die easy" and go off gracefully,
ADVICE TO A YOVNO MAN.
I turn over the leaves of au old notebook, the * pages of which I filled half a score of years ago. On one page I find this note:
"My books are all wrinkled and filleil with crumbs of maple and sumacb leaves, with here and there a forgotten forest leaf clinging to the printed one. Ah well! some time I may kiss the wrinkled l>ages of ny choicest book wliile 1 think of tne dear, white Rknds that laid tiie tuapla Uwvet in history or lexicon, and thank God that the l«ge is wrinkled and the engraving discolored."
And now. whenever I turn to that page in the note-book, do you know, my boy, how glad I am that I wrote about the leaves as I did? There was no shadow of fear or dread over my little home tlien. There was no reason why I should feel so tenderly toward the leaves and stems that stained and wrinkled my books, and ever kept me from using them for a week at a time, was there? Ah! indeed there was. Indeed, there was. Because love is better tlisn books, my boy. Because your books, my son, tliougli yon crowd the literary treasures of tlie world upon your shelves, can never creep into your Deart as your wife will, some day, when you ‘find the girl whom the god.» have decreed shall crown your home. Because we should always hold the hearts that love us nearer to us' than the petty annoyances and little ills of this life. Because the quick, hasty word you speak in ill-temper or ungentleness to-day, my boy, leaves a sting in your heart to rankle half a century away. Because to-dav, if I could. I would burn up •very book there is in all this world Just to feel the little hands that laid tlioKe leaves in the pages where I said they must not go, clasp themselves about my neck for one hour. Hold your tongue and yonr pen, my boy. Every time you are tempted to say an ungentle word, or write an unkind line, or sav a mean, ungracious thing about anybody, just stop; look ahead twenty-five years, and think how it may come back to you then.
I.et me tell you how’ I write mean letters and bitter editorials, mv boy. rioaie time, when aman has pitched into me and “cut me up rough," aud 1 want to pulverise him, and wear bis gory scalp at my girdle and hang his hide on my fence, I write the letter or editorial that is to do the business.
I write something that will drive sleen ftoin his eyes and peace from his soul for six weeks. Oh, do hold him over a slow lire and roast him. Gall and aquafortis drlu from my blistering jicn. Then, I don’t mail the letter Slid 1 uuii't print tiie editorial. There’s always plenty of time to crucify a man. The vilest criminal ia entitled to a little reprieve. I put tlie manuscript away ill a drawer. Next day I look at ft Tim ink is cold; I read it over and say: "I don’t know about this. There's a good deal of bludgeon and bow ie knife loiirnaJiitn in that I’ll hold it over a day fuuger." The next day I read it again. I laugh, and euy “I*shaw!" and 1 can feel my rliueks getting a little hot The fact ia, I am asliemvd that I ever wrote it, aud hope that nobody has seen it and I havs half forgotten the article or letter that filled me soul witli rage. 1 haven't been hurt I haven’t hurt aiiyliody, and the world goes right slong, making twenty-four hours a dav as usual, and I am all the happier. Try it my boy. But otf your hitter remarks until to-morrow. Then, when you try to ray them deliberately, >011*11 find that yon have for»*tteu them, and ten years later, ah! how glad you will bs that you did! Be vockI nstured, my boy. Be loving and geolls with ths Vorld, and you’ll be amarad to see how dearly and tenderly tlie worried, tried, vexed, lisrssied old world lovet you,
THI fATBS AMIVTHE SOY,
You know I’m not living where I do now? No. I moved sway from my present abiding place and am oocupyiug apartments on the next block, les, indetHl, You see, there wss a boy at ray funner boardiiig-houM. Ho was s type of a boy 1 moat furiously dislike, and 1 seem to be the type of s men he listes, for wedeclsml war the first day we met. He deployed his skirmishers as soon as he raw me, and
I was woiiiitg for him in the woods lust
over tlie top of the hill, thicker than hair on a dog's back. He was an impudent, loud-voiced, slangy cub, with s Dead of most luxuriant, long, huiby hair that my fingers were slwsya aching to rat into. My room was on the first floor, and he used to wake laces iu at luy wioduw. Üus
d.iy he ilirnst his hcnd in. hut I was laying for h:iii, and as iio opi'ned hi» month to yell something offensive 1 clincked it full of sawdust. That night he hung a live vat by the tail to my window shutter, and the vixen nearly scratched mv eye.» out before I could cut licr down. It was Miss Gidiligin's cat, too, and she believed I liuiig it llitre myself, «ml s<i did everyiiody else. Next day I maneuvered liie boy in front of my window until, thinking 1 wasn't looking, he lired a bnckstiot at me, .snd 1 dodged and let him hrenk a ItHikinp-ila»». His father thrashed liim fur it. and 1 was so pleased I paid for the mirror nij.»elf. Next day he heiit a pin in niy chair at the dinnei table, ami I nearly died rather than jump up and “holler." He found out that it irritated me nearly to madness to he.xr or see iiini, so lie took to playing under my window. I charged liiiii out of that by eniptyiii;; half a gallon of shaving 'water out of the window. He flanked me by mov-ii>ijust tii’onnd the corner, where I could hear him but eonldn't reach him. When I sang he imitated me, but not well. 1( I reail aloud he drnmined on the end of the house. Once I disseinhled. and won Ins contiilence so far that he aecepted an invitation to m to the creek with me. When I got him there his susidcioiis were amused, and lie refused to go into tlie boat. He kiK’w very well I was going to drown liim. lint he didn’t sajr so. I knew it, t(xi, though I didn’t say so either. So nothing was said about it, and T came home, hitter and heavy-liearUiil with di.sapiKiintment. My sole desire now was to catch him in the dafk and scalp him. But lie was wary, and never went in the dark alone.
1 was just beginning to despair and to feel that ray life was a failure, wlien, one evening, I heard him pa.ssing my window where I lay in ambush. 1 jiceped out, and in the dim', misty starlight I just discerned my tneiiiy’s lignre pus.sing out of rench. I threw my body far out over the window-sill, and. s'tretchingmy arm. caught a IiHiidful of that huted hair. 1 had practiced that clutch on pillows and bolsters night after night with vengeful indnstrj’. There was no slip to it. My liiigcrs closed on the locks of my foe like the grip of an octopus, and I gave a yank that would have pulled up a pine tree. The shrieks that split the air of the silent night fairly made my heart stand still, and I shrunk hack within the gloom of mv room. Scream after scream, slamming doors, crashing windows, told the house was alarmed and wild with Gzcitemciit. I must go out; it would not do to remain concealed. I brushed the clinging locks from m>' guilty fingers. Shrill voices were calling niy name. Horrors! I was suspected, then? Some one had seen lue? The hoy had recognized my touch? I wont out into the hall. What was the mutter? Well might I a.sk, they said, sitting there in my room, poring over my book, while numler wnz being done. A gigantic tramp, they told me. hidden under the trees, had caught niy siHter by the hair and nearly broken lier neck, aiid then ran away.
. I am going to slay that lioy with my naked hands if I have to wait till the next war to get a chance at him.
Robert J. Bcrdettk.
SCRAPS OP HISTORY.
Gas lighting was introduced into New York in 182:W.
White pine trees have been set out on Boston Common.
An Owossof Mich.) casket company will will open au embalming school.
Statistics prove that the “big bead" is an ailment peculiar to men who wear small hats.
Frank Solick, the boss bootblack of Chicago. is able to boast of a bank account of $8,000.
Crickets are devastating Algeria, eiitirel destroying vegetation. Their dead bodies are creating a pestilence.
More than eight hundred cabin musen-gent sailed from New York in tne foui
trunutlantic steamers that left on Saturday.
A spike nosed pike wss caught in Lake Elytdau, Wisconsin, tiiat weighed ItrJ Mi'niids aud measured G feet 2 fnclies in eiigtii.
Mrs. Ella F. Young, Assistant Superintendent of the I’ublic Schools of Chicago, is tlie only lady who has the honor of holding a like position.
The word “preposterous" does not mean unfair or such as cun not he agreed to. It nieaiis ’’hindmost first;’’ or, as we often say, “to|isy-turvy."
Kell V, the base ball champion, told Presl dent Govejund that he “commenced as a
poor Irish boy, with no start in life and only wie suspender."
Aoolher horse lias l^n fitted with spectacles. It belongs in Erie, and the restoration of its ability to see distinctly is said to have increased the animal’s value mors than I10Ó.
A Cliicago burglar over’ooked $80 in a bureau diawer, und the papers announced it the next morning. He returned ths next night and net only secured it, but a suit of clothes besides.
Mr. Nansen, a well known Norwegian athlete, is about to make the attempt of crossing tlie vast snow fields of Greenland on snowshoes. A wealthv Danish merchant has siijiplied the money /or tlie unique ente rpri.se.
In the last centurv peculiar title pages were one of the affectations of the day. This is an example: “I IXm't Know What, Written by I don’t Know Whom, I’ub-INIietl I Don’t Know Where, by 1 Don’t Know Whom."
Judge Hare, of Philadelphia, gave this advice to a wife heater who was discharged upon the appeal of the abused wife: "When you find yourself getting angry again, fill your mouth with water and keep it shut till you cool off."
An audacious thief at Providence, R. I., attempted to steal the roof of a nig four story structure, and liad a goodiv part of it earrieil off when detected. As tne roof was for the greater part composed of lead, the Imiil promised to be a remunerative one (or him.
A Boston notion in church work is railed a Ituuse Coiiimittea, and its ineiubers scattered themselves among the congregation. lUich one is responsiblu for the five |<ews in front of him, to whose occupants he sjieaks and ehuws the alleutluuh wliicli will uiaks them feei at home.
A man of GraiitOountv, Wis., drained off his fisli pond the other day, and in the bottom he (nuiid four silver watches and chains and a large number of silver spoons, knives and lorks. It is supfKieed that s burglar, finding himself closely pursued, threw his plunder in the pOtid to get rid of it.
Borne phenomenal fortunee have been made of late jream in the Pennsylvania oil fields. Tlist of Wm. Phillips, of Newcastle, for instance, which aiuuunU to $4,0UU,0UU, has all lieeu made since 1879. Vandegrifl, of I’ittsliurf. iits taken $,1,000,000 out of the oil fields slnre 1880, and a dozen men have made a millluu or mure each in ths satue time.
Corpus Ohristl (Tex.) Caller: Nir. Blunt-ser, raiichinan of this uounty, who was in town Tuesday, tnforined the ( nller tliat lie not only has a cow with eighteen horns, hut he bus the cow's heifer, which also has eighteen lioras. Bntiie of the horns on the cow's legs are over s foot long, compelling the unimsl to get down on her knees when grazing on the prairies.GIRIS WHO USE SLANG.
MRS. BEECHER'S WORDS TO SLANGY YOUNG WOMEN.
Masculine Mannrra Decidedly Ua-becoming—How OfflRnaive Habits Are Contracted—Girla Seldom Pro fane. But Often Coarse in Speech and Manners.
I'Vrltten for tbe Timei.)
The necessity of shielding children from the contamination of low associates, aud from the habits which such companionship will surely bring. Is of the utmost importance. Low expression»—“slang phrases," a.» they are termed—will be one of the first fruits. A “iree-and easy" way of talking and acting among strangers in the streets or stores, and at last ventured upon at home, will l)e the next. These two most offensive habits usually go liaiul-in-liund, and, very strangely, unless we look at it asan evidence of natural dejiravilv. are eagerly caught up by the young. With girls, especially, if they are allowed to use sncli low phrases, other unfeminine traits will soon follow; often a coarse, swaggering manner, instead of the graceful, lady like carriage, that indicates refinement and moilesty. When girls or young ladies (?) are seen with their bands thrust deep into the ulster |K>cket or surtout, as is now the urm, and the derby tipped on one side, talking and laughing loudly, walking with masculine strides, they have no cause of complaint if the rude, raggc<l little gamins in the street take infinite satisfaction in ruuning after such nondescripts and calling, “I say, mister!" They can not but tliink that the attire and manner of such girls mark them as lawful victims for their insults and ribaldry.
These reprehensible and offensive habits of speech and manner have crept into youtnful society with amazing rapidity of late, and are »o closely allied to unsafe and immoral license, that parents can not be too quick or iM*roniptory in restraining tlie least approach to any such liberties. If left unrehuked at first, under tlm impression tliat, if aiqiareiitly unnoticed, tiieir children will soon sec the folly of it and correct it tliemselvcs, they will find they have made a sud luistak'e. Once alluwetl to take root, the evil will soon be beyond parental control, ri|>ening into fixed habits that will be a blot on thcfr children during their whole lives.
This kind of vulgarity carries with it a seductive fascination for’the youtliful, unbalanced mind, and tends to moral deformity. even if it leads to nothing worse. Such evils, like sill, are at first repulsive and disgusting, but
“Seen too oft, familiar with its fsee,
We first endure, tlieu pltr, then embrace."
Boys are enticed mure easily into the nra of vulgar and low expressions, from coming in contact with coarse, rough hoys, as they are naturuUy outdoors or in the streets more than girls, and often less under their niotlicr’s influence and supervision. They are, thereto e, in danger of having the habit fixed be/ore it is susjiected at home. When temptations are not resisted and repelled at tue E>c|nnning, they find easy victims. If a boy is tempted to indulge ill low conversation, and yielda, he will find that profanity is near of kin.
Girls seldom fall into the habits of profanity; but, from lack of projier restraint at home, too often indulge in speech and actions which are far from lady-like or-refined, and not many years ago would not have been tolerated in good eociety. But of late, at home, making or receiving calls, on the streets or in the cars, this loud, boisterous, free-and-easy behavior is painfully noticeable. If seen in little girls, who should be as sweet and gentle os the birds or flowers, one can not avoid thinking that tlieir mothers have not guarded their jewels as they are in duty bound to do when such priceless treasures are com-luittetl to tlieir charge. If our little prirls greet their brothers aud sisters, and perhaps even tlieir parents, boisterously; II instead of “Good-moruing," they cry, “Halloo, pupa!" or, “Halloo, mamma!’* and call to playmates in the street in the same rougii manner, who will be surprised if this stylo follows them as they
i;ruw up and appear as young ladies? Re-erriug to this itnlady-like manner and motle of address, a gentleman writes tliat, passing two pretty, well-dressed, stylisli-looking young ladies in the public streets, he was surprised to hear one meet the other with “Halloo, Bid!" and tiie other respond, “Halloo, Tudel" to Iier friend’s greeting; aud he remarks: "It wss just whst two lounging voting meu might luive said, or stable hoys, fur that matter. It might not have been so much out of the way for the latter, but I confess it sounded very odd and offensive in what 1 supimsed to lie two well-bred young ladies; as much so aa if I had heard two beautiful gray and rose-ooloretl birds begin to swear. It was so unnatural, so out of place. It may be ‘the style’ tor young giris or ladies to greet each otiierwitnan ‘Halloo!’ but I cau’t like it or get used to it. Thera things may seem bnt a trifle, but they make all the difference between nice things and very common things. We usually prefer sweet, gentle, refined girls to thora wbo are coarse ana hoydenish. Girls rany full into this unladylike habit through their brothers’ example; but sisters were glvsii to refine sud su/ten tiie coarser nature of their brothers. If they fail to do this, we shall no longer Hod in our sisters refined and refining enmpan-ioiiB, but the coarse ways and rough speech of young men in flounces. Is it not just ss easy to imitate the graceful manners and refined Bj>eech of a lady as those of a rude, uncultivated boyf’
The same general rnlee for correct and pleusaul behavior are safe (or boys and girls, or ladies and rantlemeii. A gentleman may entertain tlie bigheet respect for a lady, and oe on the moet friendly and intimate terroa, but. If a true gentleman, hla retfieot will withhold him from carele^snesa or roughneea in speech or action. And no lady wlio is truly refined will brook anything approaching a too familiar tone. It io, however, bnt nut to acknowledge tbat a lady’a manner will alwaya Ax the metes and bounds of the liberty which may beoficred.
When boys and girla, young men and maidens are allowed to fall into tbe abaur-dities of low, foolish, meaningless talk, it SMins to dwarf them inlelleotually; they can find nothing of interest or importance to say, and thereiore make up for sense by tilling every sentence with nee«llew exrla-inaiions, exaggerations, or misused adjsc-It re<|iiires much patience to be
coni|ielled to listen to half a dozen young people and hear the strange, inappropriate nee of language. They will aMureeacb other that it Is “awful’ warm, or ths concert wu “awful" nice: the sornioii “horrid" ilull; a voung lady is "awful pretty," but her dress “horrid ugly;" the teat her‘•ho^ rid strict;" such a young gmitlemaii who called had an “awful ewell" toam of fust horses.
If yuuiig people oould now and then he placed where (tbemselves unseen) they were obliged to listen to a half hour's cuuversa-tioii about nothing at all, and bear these |H>ur adjectives forced into acunsplcumis jKwition in every sentence aud on every tuple uf oonveriMtloti—their real meaning and legitimate use being entirely dlsre-,led—It might result in their own retor-
niatlon, and they might feel, like the |x>et at Delmonlco’s, who listeiunl to the conver-■aUon of a charming lllUe lady and her
dapjier little beau, where every other word was “awful:*’
“I coafess it sorely puzzles me to tbiuk what tlier cuuld sav.
If soiiictliinR really ‘awfiil* were to hapoen In tlieir way:
For I'm sure M-ith simple EucUsh they could never be content.
Hut their thonqhu in foreign expletives would have to tiud a veuU
“While mutiiiK in this fashion (feeling rather cross and old),
I forgot Hlmiit my dinner, which was getting ’Rwhil' cold:
And the adjective kept dropping from tbe Upe of either child,
Till with ’awful.* ’awful,' *awful,'l wse driven fairly wild ’’
Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher.
Almoit tbe lut of the old Khoot of courtly Americtn gentlemen of letters which did 80 much for our literature, Donald O. Mitchell, or "Ik Marvel," as be is better known to thousands, is Ru interssting study. The old Rutbor enjoys r peace and comfort on bis New England farm that may well be envied by hundreds of our tired out autliors of the preraut day. He has a com* tortable revenue from bis published books, and with a profitable lecture engagement here and there during the winter he can live without tiring brain or hand. His home is at Edgcwood, a charming country seat about a mile from New Haven, beyond the train, beyond the street cars, hid away in one of^ thora exquisito kernels of sweet New Rngland scenery m whicli old Connecticut so richly abounds. Soft mountains, dense woods, running brooks, little surprise bridges, huge old trees, broad grassy terrace*—at once wood and farm and English demesne is Kdgewood. On a swelling bosoin of smooth tur/ rests the quaint house which fourteen years ago took tne place of the one described in niy “Farm of Rlgewcod"—« substantial summer house of rustic deMgn, modern taste and last generation suggestion. A vision of pastoral beauty spreads before the broad, low windows. Long Island Bound stretcbesaway in the distance, and two huge cliffs guard the entrance to this exquisite nature-rave, into which onr very agreeable hermit has withdrawn, coming forth smiling'and genial as tiiough deeming it a veritable good joke to be disoovered by his friends.
Donald O. Mitchell is short of stature and small of bone, with ruddy tinted skin toned to yellow, ripened, but neither wrinkled nor roughened by lifelong exposure, straffgling, unkempt hair, clean by reason of tne great quantity of sun and wind tbak patwes tbruiigh it, sharp, twinkling eyes and mouth made to go with it—both hung on smile’s puckering strlugs—an unobeervable nose, the smooth old country turn of cheek and chin, shaggy ride whiskers like wispa hanging from an overloaded hay wagon, a face old only iu not being young and breaking constantly into wnole bunche* of smiles. He wears loose, baggy pants, an easy rack coat, shoes that show tbat they have been kissing more honest clay than asphalt, and looks the renr fac-simile of a happy little old Scotch farni-eror gardener, standing beside a wagon load of garden stuff in a market place of any on# of the British Isles, cracking his whip and his jokes, and loving every blade and bleaL sheaf and low that keeps him company till be returns back “home." If any other than tbe faint Scotch brogue addreraed you, yoa would feel surprised. Anything more an-like a collera graduate, a writer, one of the moat valuable lights of the American day, it would be hard to imagine. < One looks in vain all over the unremarkable person for a
filaoe to rest even the majeetio Donald Irant Mitchell which has been his massive door plate for these sixty odd years.
New York literary critics are at present directing their attention toward Dufiield Osborne, the young author of the brilüant romance, “Tbe Spell of Aahbaroth," just issued by the Sonbners. Mr. Osborne has stiii to reach his thirtieth year, and is a resident of Brooklyn. He is of mtdiuna stature, with bair slightly tinged with gray, and finely chiselled featurea He is a grad-uats of Columbia College, class '79^ and of the Columbia Law School, *81. His literary tastes arc marked, and few young men are better read iu all branches of HtorsiDre. Mr. Osborne has pronounced athletie proclivities as well, and, in the intervals of his literary labor, devotes bimraif to boxing aud foot ball. He bears his success with exceeding modesty, and poasesses all tlie social qualitien that will be required of him IU hisuew role.
A new novel, described ia tbe single word "charming,” as it doubtless will be, is an
nounced as coming from the pen of Mrsi Frances Hodgseii Burnett. It will flrst be
published in the magazine, Woman, a periodical which seems to gain in strength witli each issue.
The author of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" has gone to a quiet resort on the New Jersey coast, where he will remain for a while, previous to his journey Bouth.
Marion Hsriand has returned from a flying Southern trip to her Brooklyn home.
Jennie June, Laura C. Holloway, Mra Frank Leslie and Mra Vinceusa Botto are some of the literary women wbo will go to Europe shortly for the aummor.
During Matthew Arnold’s recent Ameri
can visit a beautiful young lady approached the diitinguished “apostle of culture" after
hia lecture in Beltimore, and, placing before him a superbly bound autograph album, in tbe sweetest o( tones requrated Mr. Arnold to pen above his signature a sentiment which she "might treasure all through life." Tbs cultured son of Rugby’s hca^
muster highly appreciated the eompUment, ifullv tesU
and, after carefully testing the extended peo, wrote these linss in tbs treasured volume; “Not for this age nor for this peupit
sing." "Thsre, my young daughtor." ex
■ ifr * ■
ctarroed the apoetle of “sweetoera and light," “1 have written this for you with an eye to immortality,"
Tlie new Murray’a Magatlne is said to ba a disuppointmeut to its publishers in point uf circulation.
Howard Seely’s flrst aovel, a thrilling story of frontier tifs, to on the presses of tbs Appletons.
James Kedpalli, tbs active editor of Uit North American Iteview, who recently was at (he point of death, is at Ricbuioud, Vs., rapidly rei-overing hla strength. Hto pby-siclsne will not allow him, however, to engage in any eilttorial work, and it wUI ba at least aix mouths before he returns to active dntiea Iu Mr. Kedjiath’s enforced absenua, Mr. Allen Thorndyke Kibe per-sonelly conducto tba loieresto of the Ka-VleW. WlLUAM J. Boi.
The people of Ia Mollle, HI., have a curl-
ous sort of problem in their village politics. At the recent election two canaiUates for I’rerident of tbe board of village trustees wtre tied. Befora the day of determining by lot who should be declared elected one or the tied candidates died, Tbe puisle to: Does this create a vacancy or to (he surviving candidate elected?
Brunswick. Oa., bas invested in a new fifty-cent Bible fur ■wearing witnessra on. The reason for this to that the old Bible hse had the first four chapters of Genesis kissed away, and the lawyers are in doubt wlietlier an oath made on a Hibis minus its llrat four chapters is binding.
Tlis tendency in umbrellas is to fins ligtik frannwand nicely finiriiwl handles that ou (air days may hu used aa walking stlcka
. iiOt .