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For Woman’s Work.
MELROSE.
» After Hiawatha.
Amid the pine trees and palmettoes
’Mid thejorange groves and sweet gums;
With its lake of hue cerulean
And its dark moss-bannered live oaks,
Stands the Queen of Florida villages.
Stands the little town of Melrose.
Cooled in summer by the breezes
From the Gulf and the Atlantic;
Warmed in winter by the south-wind
From the tropic, fair Antilles,
’Tis no wonder that the people
dwelling in the frigid northlaud ;
Thither fly like birds of passage
At the coming of the ice-king.
Could I sing of its attractions
In a strain to match its merit—
Could I picture all its beauties;
All its streets bedecked with flowers,
All its lakeside lined with cypress.
All its walks enclosed with shade trees,
It would fill your soul with longing.
Make you, like the exiled Switzer
Pining for his native mountains.
Stretching toward the north horizon.
Sometimes rippling into wavelets,
Sometimes lashed by wild Mor’westers
Into imitation billows;
Dancing in the summer noonday,
Mirroring the gorgeous sunsets.
Lies Lake Santa Fe, the sapphire!
«anta Fe the inimitable!
All to southward and to westward
Stretch the verdant lines of hummocks,
Filled with hickory and magnolia,
Filled with myrtle’, bay and sweet gum:
All to eastward are the pine trees-
Like JEolean harps, their foliage
Catching every breeze of summer
Os the storm winds mournful music
• Wafting onward o’er the distance
Through the illimitable forest.
Men of every state and section,
Men of all denominations,
Living here with hearts united,
Labor for the common welfare;
Build together schools and churches,
Keeping ministers and teachers,
Officers and dignitaries.
All our maids are sweet as roses,
All our matrons kind and social,
All our men polite and gallant—
Serving at the beck of beauty.
Here my song must have an ending
Lest vour patience should be wearied.
If your soul is filled with longing,
Longing like the exiled Switzer
Pining for his native mountains,
Then 1 feel the satisfaction
That my work is well rewarded.
Bryan Whitfield Weston.
For Woman’s Work.
THE BALL.
REALLY can not understand why
some people are al ways behind time.
It is so provoking! Mrs Wilson was
was to have been here at four this
“ffl
1'
afternoon with my new ball dress;
it is now half past seven, and she hasn’t
come yet.”
These were the words of a young society
girl who was preparing for a ball, and were
addressed to her very efficient maid, who
stood near by, watching with apparent in
terest every movement of the young lady
as she carefully arranged her beautiful
golden hair before the handsome mirror.
J ust at this moment her mother entered
the room with the article referred to, and
said:
“Grace, dear, your dress is just lovely!”
“Well, Mamma, I’m glad, but it might
as well be in Halifax for the good it will do
me this evening; it should have been here
several hours ago. But to tell you the truth,
Mamma, I don’t think I will go to the ball
to-night, I have a very severe headache.”
“But my dear,” said her mother, “you
can’t afford to stay away to-night; this is to
be the ball of the season, and you ought by
all means to be there.”
There are some mothers who entertain
no higher and nobler hopes for their daugh
ters than that they shall be fashionable
society girls; perfected in the arts of danc
ing and card playing, and popular in the
circles of “society.” They will exert every
effort to have them educated at the danc
ing school and ushered into society before
they are old enough to comprehend the
meaning of the word, while never a
thought is given to the development of
their better and nobler natures. Instead of'
trying to inculcate into their minds the
principles of true womanhood, they rather
encourage them in the many and awful
diversions of so-called society.
Grace’s mother, Mrs. Florence Everette,
was one of this type. Mrs. Everette’s
mother was a pious, good woman; had tried
to instil into her daughter’s mind the
principles of right, and had endeavored
to impress upon her from infancy the im
portance of being a Christian. But,notwith
standing all this, Florence had never been
very much inclined to be religious. She had
often, when young, thought ofher mother’s
teachings, and shuddered at the result which
she had been taught to believe would come
of her careless indifference to religious
matters. She sometimes thought seriously
of connecting herself with the church and
trying to live a better life, but before she
made any decision she was sent off to a
boarding school; associating there with ir
religious girls, joining with them in their
sports and amusements, she soon forgot her
good resolutions and sank deeper into
worldliness than ever before.
While at school she formed the acquaint
ance of Anderson Everette, a very hand
some young man, and heir to a large for
tune and a beautiful home. They became
very much attached to each other,and long
before she completed her education they
were engaged to be married,which event
was to take place six months after her
graduation. They were united at the ap
pointed time, and after a tour through
Europe they settled down at their home
on the Springfield estate.
“The Mansion” as it was generally
called, was an ancient structure but a
handsome one, and had been the pride of
the family for two generations. Here they
lived happily together, in luxury and
ease, for two years, when one lovely morn
ing in June it was announced that a per
manent visitor, a beautiful blue-eyed girl,
had arrived at Springfield Mansion. This
little creature received the name of Grace
Elnora Everette, and was from this time
the chief pride of the hearts of her fond
parents. As she grew older she became
more and more beautiful. Her education
was very carefully attended to, a private
tutor being first employed, and then, at
the age of fourteen, she was sent to a fash
ionable girls’ school where she advanced
rapidly in her studies, and at seventeen
was graduated with high honors.
It was rather early in life for her to
leave school, but her mother was anxious
that she should enter society as soon as pos
sible, and therefore hurried her through.
Fortunately for Grace, she was naturally
fond ofliterature and art, and was a ready
learner, but unfortunately her mother gave
orders for her special instruction in the
dance, which she also learned to like very
much. We find her one year after grad
uation getting ready for the grand ball to
be given at the Remington opera house,
the evening on which our narrative begins.
It was the most elegant occurrence of
the season. The banquet which followed
was unsurpassed by any that had ever pre
ceded it, and the hall presented a scene of
royalty. Handsomely dressed ladies and
gentlemen from the most aristocratic
families, were the guests of the evening.
Grace Everette was by far the most
popular girl in the company,and was
unusually pretty on this particular night.
She had many noble traits of character,
and was considered quite an accomplished
young lady. She spoke French and German
with ease, and the art gallery contained
some exquisite productions from her ready
brush. Little wonder is it that she was
the center of attraction in almost any
gathering where she was present.
But alas! she was passionately fond of
the dance, and on this occasion she danced
round after round until, becoming over
heated, she sought rest in the open air.
In a few moments she suddenly became
very ill. She was taken home and a phy
sician speedily summoned, who pro
nounced it a severe and dangerous attack
of congestion. All night she was exceed
ingly restless, and before morning was
seized with a burning fever.
A death-like silence pervaded the whole
house. The servants were cautioned
against making the least noise as
they went about their duties, and soft was
the tread of father and mother as they
ministtfred to their suffering child. From
morning ’til noon the poor girl raved like
a maniac, continually muttering some
thing about “the ball,” the “last dance,”
and her “mother.”
Mrs. Everette had led a gay and frivo
lous life, both before and after her mar
riage. She had, in other words, been a
society woman, and was now merely the
wreck of a woman. The color had faded
from her cheeks, and the quick, elastic
step which characterized her in other days
was greatly changed. But, notwithstand
ing her physical charms had undergone
such a change, her ideas in regard to life
had always remained the same. Never,
since her youth, had she thought of chang
ing them until this bright morning, as the
soft rays of the rising sun crept into the
sick room, where she sat watching at her
daughters’ bedside.
It was about noon; and as she sat lis
tening to the ticking of the little clock on
the mantel, Grace suddenly turned and
exclaimed: “O mother, why did you in
sist on me going to the ball last night?
I fear it has cost you your daughter.”
Mrs. Everette made no reply, as Grace
seemed to expect none; but language can
not express the intensity of pain which
those words brought to that mother’s
heart. She had been thinking of the past.
She saw herself in the true light, and real
ized the responsibilities which had been
resting upon her all her life, only to be
misused. Had she discharged her duty in
regard to herself and family? The answer
was forcibly, No! She realized it now,
WOMAN’S WORK.
and was for the first time made to feel
humble and penitent. Her reflections
were too painful for her, and bursting into
tears, she cried out of the depths of her grief:
“Would to God I had lived differently;
but it is too late now ; too late ! too late 1”
Night came on. Although the day had
been fair and pleasant, as the sun sank
slowly to rest behind the western hills,
there was not, as is so often seen, the
bright glow of the sunset, but in its place a
dark, angry cloud. The distant rumbling
of thunder announced the approaching
storm.
“ Dr. Pierce,” inquired the anxious
mother, “what are the chancesnow?”
The noble-hearted man replied: “Up
to this time there is no perceptible change;
but the crisis will come about twelve to
night; after then she must either get
better or grow worse; her condition can
not remain as it is longer than that time.”
The clouds thickened rapidly, and the
heavens became exceedingly dark. The
lightning flashed; the thunders roared,
and the oaks in the grove, bent violently
to and fro by the wind, gave forth a fear
ful sound. Awful was the fury of the
storm ! As the last star had been seen to
fade away behind the black and heavy
clouds which obscured the sky, so the last
star of hope faded from the wretched
mother’s heart as it became overshadowed
by a cloud of sorrow and grief.
It was nearly twelve, and as the good
doctor had predicted, the crisis came.
From that time Grace began to sink. She
raved and tossed for a time, then sudden
ly became quiet; as if she had regained
consciousness, she clasped her hands, and
turning her eyes upward, seemed to be
engaged in prayer. Then, all at once,
dashing her hands wildly into the air as if
trying to grasp something, she said, “Too
late! too late !” Falling back on the pil
low she passed into another world.
It was truly a heart-rending scene. It
seemed that the poor mother’s heart would
indeed break . She fell on her knees
by the body of her dead child, and
weeping bitterly, cried : “O, Grace, my
child, my own precious darling, why did
you go! But it was my fault! It was
my fault!”
She felt too forcibly that this great
affliction was nothing less than a punish
ment for the life she had led, and the way
she had brought up her daughter. Socie
ty ! The ball! A gay and sinful life!
And the result of it all, the beautiful
flower which promised to bless the world
with its fragrance, was cut down to wither
and die just in the beginning of life.
By morning the storm had ceased. The
sun rose in all his wonted glory, and not
a cloud was seen to obstruct his brilliant
rays. The birds sang sweetly, and the
fragrant flowers filled the air with a rich
perfume, while the tall oaks were swayed
gently to and fro by the soft morning
breeze. All nature seemed to smile. But
the gay sunshine was but a silent mockery
to the bereaved parents at Springfield
Mansion.
The song of the birds, though sweet, was
as a requiem to the dead. The spirit of
the beautiful girl had taken its flight with
the storm. Ob, that we had the assurance
that it found its way to heavenly portals!
She passed away like the ship upon the
stormy sea, tossed by angry waves;
she sank beyond the distant horizon,
and —we know not.
While watching at the death-bed of her
daughter the broken-hearted mother had
made a resolution; that was to live a dif
ferent life. She kept her resolution faith
fully. Connecting herself with the church,
she lived ever after, a useful Christian
woman; but exceedingly dear was the
price she paid for balls and society life.
Olin S. Dean.
For a plump figure a yellow and white
crepon is made with a gathered skirt,
sleeves full at the shoulders and a round
waist. The V collar, deep cuffs and point
ed girdle are of Irish Point lace. Another
frock has a round waist trimmed with
bretelle ruffles from the waist-line to the
shoulders, and has a ribbon belt. The
bag seams are used for unlined waists, and
the fastening is done with small pearl but
tons. The waists have only shoulder and
under-arm seams,and are held to the figure
by a dravf string run through a casing
stitched on the inside at the waist-line.
A blue and white striped American
gingham has a full, round skirt, with a five
inch hem and most of the gathers massed
at the back. The round waist tucks be
neath the skirt belt. A small yoke of em
broidery,forming a point on either side,trims
the front beneath the collar of edging, and
the shirt sleeves have narrow wristbands
of insertion. This becomes very dressy if
a belt, long bow in the back, bretelles, and
shoulder knots of blue satin are worn.
For Woman’s Work.
THE COTTAGE HOSPITAL.
While I was out on the piazza this
morning, taking a sun-bath and listening
to a concert by the birds, who are as gj,ad
as I am that it is summer, my eyes rested
on a group of buildings, situated on an
eminence half a mile awaj.
They are the buildings of the Cottage
Hospital at Baldwinsville, Mass.
It occurred to me that the many readers
of Woman’s Work might be interested in
such an institution, and I will tell them
about it. Not far from ten years ago, a
young physician in this place, who had
made the diseases of children a specialty,
conceived the idea of establishing Cot
tage Hopitals for children.
He interested his father and another
benevolent gentleman in the matter. The
father gave the use of a cottage and ad
joining grounds for a term of years.
Others became interested, and a hospital
was incorporated, the usual officers
and a lady Board. Some patients •
were at once received; just how many I
cannot tell, for I am not writing from
statistics but from memory.
For some of the children a fair compen
sation was received, for others less, and
for still others nothing was paid —accord-
ing to the circumstances of those who
placed them there.
The necessary funds for defraying the
expenses of such an establishment were
raised in part through the efforts of the
lady Board and partly through the kindness
of generous people. Very soon a second
cottage was built, and a little later still
another one; the last being more particu
larly for those patients who were subject
to epileptic fits.
At last there were so many patients,
and the expenses so great, that it was
thought expedient to ask the state legis
lature to donate a few thousands of dol
lars. There was so muoh sympathy felt
for the poor little sufferers all over the
state, and the Cottage Hospitals were so
evidently doing a good work, that the aid
was immediately given.
Three years ago it was decided that
there was need of more room; so many
who applied for admittance’ were turned
away for want of accommodations; besides,
it was thought that it would be better to
have them in a more quiet, locality, for
the cottages were in the midst of a busy
manufacturing village.
The state appropriated eighty-five thou
sand dollars toward building new cottages
for the hospital in a more desirable place,
where there was plenty of land, and away
from all excitement. There are now three
brick buildings ; a large one in the center
for the main building, and a smaller one
on each side. They are all connected by
long piazzas with glass sides, and flat tops,
so that, in the cold or stormy days the
children can wander from one to another
and still be protected from the inclemency
of the weather. The air is spicy with the
odor of the surrounding pine trees, and
there is a very fine view of the village
and surrounding country. The buildings
are warmed by steam, and there is an
artesian well and wind mill for water.
They are lighted with electric lights and
everything is cheerful and comfortable.
The ladies in the different towns and
cities held fairs to raise funds to furnish
the different rooms of the main building
(which consists of rooms similar to a
dwelling house), each town furnishing a
certain room. One village raised quite a
large sum with an autograph album, peo
ple giving ten cents to have their names
written; names were sent in from Maine
to California. Individuals and churches
and Sabbath-schools gave towards furnish
ing the dormitories; so much money for
a hut—so called.
There are at this time about one hun
dred and twenty patients. The doctor
and his family, two school teachers, at
tendants, and other necessary help make,
with patients, a family of one hundred
and fifty. The children are well cared
for and taught, so that, it they recover,
they may be of use in the world.
Most of them are benefited in health,
and it is claimed that several afflicted with
epilepsy have been cured.
Two papers have been published in their
interest, The Cottage Friend, published by
the Lady Board at Worcester, and The
Cottager and Ready Record, at Bald
winsville.
It is considered by all as a very useful
institution, and I hope that this brief de
scription of it will be interesting to all who
may read it.
Alice M. Hale.
In every town there are many persons
who would gladly take our magazine.
For a few hours work you can secure pre
miums which are both handsome and
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