Newspaper Page Text
12
. WOMAN’S WORLD.
k Few Things of Interest to the
Fair Sex.
▲ Remarkable Community in the Cher
okee Strip- Scenes and Incidents in
An English Country Home—New
Dancing Figures Introduced—The
Wealthiest Heiresses in the United
States—A Strange Wanderer After a
Pearl—Other Matters of Special In
terest.
Every hostess, says the New York Sun.
has experienced the difficulty of getting
men partners enough to go round at danc
ing functions and of persuading the danc
ing man to do more than to drink her
wines and eat her salads and to consider
his obligation paid by standing about in
the door of the ball-room, languidly
watching the few ambitious young fel
lows in the enthusiasm of their first sea
son actually dancing most of the time.
Now there seems to be a chance of obvi
ating this difficulty, if the girls do not
think the remedy is worse than the dis
ease. It may be accomplished by intro
ducing the Russian raise, now so
much in rogue in Paris a
particularly spirited form of the wait?...
in the, course-of which one man dances
with screral partners instead of keeping
to one. By this means twelve young la
dies instead of one. secure each a waltz,
and the only drawbacks to the arrange
ment are that when the dance is over the
gentlemen cannot take the twelve young
ladies into the conservatory with any de
gree of pleasure on their part, cannot sit
oat the next waltz with the twelve young
ladies on the stairs, and in the present
frail condition of the exotic young man in
society, the result of scrambling for ices
for twelve young women might prove
fatal. To select one of them would be to
make an invidious distinction that
would inevitably lead to inharmonious re
sults.
An English print, says the New York
Times, is responsible for the statement
that the wife of a New York millionaire
has been traveling all over Europe for the
last three years trying to match a pearl
To the uninitiated, buying jewels appears
a comparatively simple task. ()ne needs
only a full purse, it would seem, and the
rest is simple. In one of the city's promi
nent shops the other day, it was noticed,
however, that Milady of Murray Hill is
as whimsical over the design of her jew
elry as over the fit of her bodice or hung
of her gown.
A woman whose name is well known in
society was “shopping" for anew bauble
or her jewel box. and she did shop fur
t, too.
Sun. dagger, star, half moon, brooch,
heart, crescent these designs in various
combinations of gems, diamonds witii
liearls. pearls with rubies, sapphires, tur
quoises aud the rest, in dazzling combina
tion, were looked over and rejected for
this and that reason. The stones of one
pleased, but not the design, or vice versa,
but at last the choice dwindled to three
pieces—a sun, which was well named for
its glor.v of diamonds, an exquisite dag
ger of the same brilliant stones, surround
ed and intermingled with beautiful pearls,
and a crown that was respondent with
emeralds and similar diamonds. Out of
the three was to be created a fourth that
might or might not suit. The crown de
sign was to be carried out in the sun dia
monds with the dagger pearls borcowed
to assist. To one Who listened it was
much-worse than matching ribbon. 4 and a
deal more expensive.
Eight was shed, too, at the same time
upon another important subject liow
Monsieur surprises Madame on Christ
mas morning with "the very thing lad
mirod at Blanks s a little w'hile ago”
Monsieur, evidently unold and good custo
mer, was looking at it himself at the
time he was being watched, and at a
number of others as well, and when he
had picked it out as suiting his taste and
l>erhaps his purse better than any of the
others, the salesman was carefully in
structed. Madame was sure to be in the
’shop within the next few days. She
must be watched for and coaxed over to
this case anil shown a number of pieces*
Monsieur hoped that she would like tne
one he had selected, hut, if her choice fell
upon another it was to be reserved for
him. So Monsieur went out while the
salesman bowed understandingly.
The two wealthiest heiresses in Amer
ica. says a writer in the Commercial Ad
vertiser. are the Rockefeller sisters. Alta
and Edith, the unmarried daughters of
the Standard oil king. These young
women, should their father die to-mor
row, would each have an inheritance of
££>.ooo,ooo. .lohn 1). Rockefeller's fortune
is estimated at $140,000,000. and it is in
creasing at the rate of *15,000,000 every
i ear.
Alta Rockefeller is not quite 24 years
old. and her sister Edith is two years
younger. The share of each under her
father's will will be more than double the
magnificent fortune held by Miss Helen
Gould. Miss Gould’s wealth is estimated
at *15,000,0u0.
The Standard oil magnate has four
children. The eldest daughter, Bessie, is
the wife of Prof. Charles Strong of
Chicago. She is 27 years old. The
youngest of the four is John D., Jr., who
has just reached his 21st year, and who is
being prepared to take his father's place
and look after the vast interests of the
Rockefeller millions.
The Wealthy Rockefeller girls have
lived the quietest of lives. They are uot
recognized in the daily throng of notable
people on Fifth avenue. The swell mil
liners and modistes do not know them,
because they wear only the plainest
gowns.which are generally fashipned bv a
seamstress who docs her work in their
house.
Worth or Felix has never had an.order
fora gorgeous party dress from an\ of
the women of the Rock feller family, la*,
cause they do not attend ball or swell
functions of any kind. It is doubtful
whether any of the daughters ever learned
to dance, unless Mrs. Strong, the eldest,
was given instructions in that art during
her college course at Vassal*.
The Rockfeller sisters have not even a
box at the opera, although they are pro
ficient musicians and thoroughly devoted
to music. When they attend the opera it
is in the quiet corner of some friend’s box
or is modest orchestra chairs. They are
never seen at the theater, but they miss
no concerts of merit.
The whole life of these two heiresses
has been devoted to self-culture and their
home.
It is always interesting to know what
other people think of .us, hence New
York girls will read with interest such
ks these from tin; Condon Outran*
“The American girl, always ou the alert
for something new. has devised a scheme
of having several handles for her um
brella or parasol, *1 hey mulch herdiffer
ent gowns, and she screws them on and
on at will." it is also of interest to learn
that chrysanthemums are no longer fash
ionable, only roses and violets. Mrs.
Astor has s2().worth of violets sent her
every day. Orange blossom is also no
longer in favor for weddings, and lilies
or the valley are used instead."
In these days when railway trains and
express messengers are at the morev of
arpied bandits a woman's courage when
o is confronted with masked robbers
is inspiring, says the Youth's Companion.
A desperate attempt to rob a safe in the
banking department of the Northern In
diana Normal College was recently
thwarted by a remarkable display of
coolness on tne pan of a young teacher.
When the office was entered it was oc
cupied by two women, one the secretary
and the other a teacher. Emma Jones.
It was in the middle of theaftemoon. and
the buildings were tilled with students.
"Keep quiet, or you will be shot."
hissed the two masked men, as they
rushed into the room.
One of them put a revolver in the teach
er's face, aud leveled another at the sec
retary. The other strode toward the
safe, where ne expected to find f-'fO.UOO.
The school teacher never flinched. In
stead of meekly surrendering, as many
express messengers and train guards have
done under similar circumstances, she
sprang forward and with a quick, vigor
ous blow knocked the revolver out of the \
intruder's hand. He had another revoi- ;
ver in his other hand, but being dazed by !
her unexpected resistance stooped im
pulsively to recover the weapon from the
noor.
The plucky girl was too quick for him.
Instead of snatching up the revolver as he
had feared, she darted for the door, call
ing upon her companion to follow her.
As she passed through the doorway a
shot was fired, but with such faulty aim
that she escaped unharmed Plunging
headlong down the stone stejis she
screamed for help.
The masued men. hearing her voice and
perceiving that delay would be fatal, fol
lowed her without robbing the safe On
the ground they met a mail who had an
swered the alarm signal. They bran
dished their revolvers and frightened him
out of his wits. Then they retreated
across the campus, and escaiied down the
railway track.
A swarm of students started in pursuit,
reinforced by police officers and a sheriff s
posse. The robbers were tracked for two
miles, in their desperation they fired
upon a farmer who was driviog a load of
peaches to market. He had a rifle and
fought them at long range with deadly
effect. He killed one and wounded the
other, delivering the prisoner to the
sheriff.
The farmer drove to town and was the
hero of the college. One enthusiast un
dertook to sell the peaches for him to a
grateful community, and turned over a
liberal offering of money to him in re
cognition of his services.
The farmer's risk had been slight in
comparison with the school teacher's.
He bad his rifle and was a good shot. She
was unarmed and in the power of her
captors, but she had the courage and wit
to defy them and to raise the alarm. She
really earned the large gift of money by
her heroism rather than the peach seller,
whose marksmanship had lieen success
fully tested.
We say It lor an hour or for years:
We say It smiling. say it choked with tears.
We say it coldly, say it with a kiss;
Ami yet we have no other word than this—
“ Good-bye.”
We have no dearer word for our heart's
friend.
For him who journeys to the world's far end
And scars our soul with going: thus we,say,
As unto him who steps but o'er our way—
•‘Good-bye.”
Alike to those we love hud those we hate.
We say no more in parting. At life's gale.
To him who passes out beyond earth's sight.
We cry as to the wanderer for a night
••Good-bye.”
It isn't always that the democratic
eyes of Americans, says the New York
Sun. are permitted to gaze upon the beau
tiful spectacle of life in an English coun
try house.
This particular phase of existence is
held up by Anglomaniacs as the acme of
all that is genial,gracious and refined. It
is rather hard to have one's iiiusions
rudely dispelled, but one must be bray'e
and face the worst.
A person who ought to know writes in
the following terms on this subject so
dear to the hearts of Anglomaniacs : .''No
vember is pre-eminently the month for
big shoots, and the country houses are
full to overflowing just now - In quiet
houses modeiute hoursfare kept, gambling
for heavy stakes is at a discount, and a
certain sobriety prevails; from stmrise to
sundown. In other houses, however, the
fun waxes fast and furious. No dancing
is considered. “sport” unless it be of a
nature imported from the Gaiety, such as
the unforgettable pas de <j uatrp. A few
smart girls go so far as to take unto them
selves the voluminous skirts of the ser
imntine frock and try to imitate Miss
la-tty land’s dexterities.”
The writer then goes into a digression
on the way to make a serpentine frock,
probably to accommodate other “smart
girls” who wish to do dances which in an
English country house will be considered
“sport.” After explaining that the
serpentine skirts are made out of no “less
than a hundred yards of the very finest
Chinese silk or crepe rut in triangular
pieces t,o give the appearance of an infin
ity of yards.” she says;
“Hut to return to country-house doings.
It is regretabla to add that under some
loots pretty heavy gambling is indulged
iu, and baccarat and nap with high stakes
have as many women as men votaries, to
say nothing of practical joking of a suspi
ciously rowdy sort, such as apple pie bed
makiug and booby trapping. A certain
most distinguished lady I could mention
amused herself one whole evening by
standing in a gallery’ and throwing pii
lows on the men’s heads as they passed iu
and out of the smoking room."
This will be a poiuter to American
women of fashion as to the latest form of
amusement in whieh the Knglish aristoc
raeey indulges itself.
Clyde (taking courage) Not marriage
in general—of course not! Why, it is the
most glorious thing, i can- conceive of no
greater bliss. Oh, don’t go! Marian,
bear me a moment
Marian—When 1 have no faith in what
you say '■
Clyde—Well, let my life prove how
much I love you. Give me the right to
wait and work and toil (seizing her by the
hand and kissing it desperately). Actions
speak louder than words.
Marian They do indeed, but they
needn’t always. Clyde! Please consider
that someone may hear you and think
you are kissing me!
Clyde (manfully) -It isn’t my fault if
someone is mistaken. I only kiss your
hand because T dare not
Marian (promptly)™ Of course you dare
not. And—there cousin Alice is calling.
Get me have my Carlyle! Oh, where is
it'
[Enter Cousin Alice.]
Cousin Alice (brieflyi—Oli. Marian,
you’re here' Well, we’re planning a
riding party for to-night. 1 thotight if
Clyde would take Miss Kussell you could
go with her brother.
Marian (looking gently at Clyde)—We
were thinking we would like to go to
gether, weren’t we. Clyde; Madelines.
Bridges.
The wives of geniuses, says tlie Youths'
Companion, are so often not happy that it
is pleasant to read of the tender, affec
tionate and cheerful companion that Con
stance Mozart found in her husband. An
example of the tone of his correspondence
with her is this ga.y little letter:
“If I should tell you, dear, adored one.
ail that l say to your portrait, you would
laugh at m.v folly. When I take it out o!
its case, I say. ‘God bless you, dear little
Constance! God keep you. amiable rogue,
little curlv-head and ]>oititod nose, my joy
and my grief!” And when I must sepa
rate from the dear picture. I slide it
slowly, slowly into the easy and say.
'Wait, wait, wait!’ Then when it has
quite disappeared. 1 say. ‘Good night,
dear little friend! Sleep well!V’.' ,■■
He was a most gentle nurse when Con
stance was ill. At 5 o'clock he stole out
Of the house on tiptoe to go for a ride on
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1893.
horseback, but never without leaving un
der Constance s pillow a note something
like this:
T wish you good morning, dear little
wife! 1 hope that you slept well, and
that nothing troubled your rest. - ’
"Take care uot to get cold, do not get
up too soon, do not slip down, do not get
tired, do uot get cross with the maid.
Take care not to trip on the sill as you go
from one room to another. Keep all your
domestic troubles until I come back, and
that will be soon."
His sister-in-law. Sophie, told this
story of his devotion One day she and
Mozart were watching by Constance,
who had fallen asleep. A sudden noise
caused Mozart to jump up quickly. His
chair slipped and he fell, driving a knife
which he had open in his hand deep into
his thigh.
Mozart was ordinarily very nervous,
and so sensitive to iiain that the slight
est prick from a pin made him turn pale,
but he did not litter a sound. Slowly and
cautiously he (vent away to his own room
to dress the injury.
The wound was so severe that he
limped for severel days, but he disguised
his suffering and the limp so bravely that
Constance never knew of the accident.
Armed with a number of excellent let
ters to some of the best people in England.
S A VS the New York Tribune. Mr. X., of
\ irgiuia had a (ery delightful visit in
I/>ndon. and attained quite a social suc
cess. He was asked to Sandringham for
a week, where the Prince was so greatly
entertained by Ills (plaint American
humor tHat lie was decidedly singled
frorti the rest of the guests for roval
favor- so much so that Mr. X-. naturally
rattier exultant over his success, was not
a little inclined to talk on his return
home about his intimacy with il. K. H..
and obtained consequently among his in
timates the sobriquet of "Egoet Rex."
But alas for the memory of princes! A
.'ear afterward Mr X.. having had a
number i*f fhmarkably flue bams cured
upon his estate, recalled a conversation
that lie bad with the Prince of Wales on
the comparative merits of the best Eng
lisn and American cams: and wishing to
con viuce bis highness of the superiority
of tlie real Virginia article, shipped half
a dozen of the best specimens, with his
card, to the royal frieud. expecting, if not
a personal acknowledgement, at least a
letter of thanks from the prince's secre
tary. What Mas his disgust when lie
received shortly after a typewritten com
munication from the bead steward and
purveyor of the royal table stating that
the specimens of hams sent had been
found to be satisfactory, and that he (the
steward) would like him to send a con
signment every four weeks for the
prince's own table. He had evidently
taken Mr. X. for an American pork mer
chant.
"Do you know, said Mrs Midas, rather
enviously, "1 find that it is b,\ no means
those women who get their things from
abroad that wear the best clothes. Now
I give Worth and Doucet carte blanche: I
get my habits and tailor-madegownsfrom
tlie best places in England, and every one
of my bonnets and hats is imported. Aud
.vet 1 do not look half us smart us Mrs.
'1 urnpenny, who lias bet* gowns made by
a little woman who works by the day,
uud who bu.s s her bonuets on Twenty
third street.”
"There must be some law of compensa
tion.” answered her friend, amused by
the pin pricks of fortune endured bv the ‘
rich.
Thirty-six women, spinsters and wid
ows. under the direction of Miss Annette
Daisy, made the run into the Cherokee
strip on the memorable 14th of Septenu
her for the purpose of founding a commu
nity of women, from which men should
be excluded. A correspondent of the
Chicago-Tribune, who visited this unique
colony, found them occupying a well-
Stored timbered section, with three
teams, two .cpws., chickens and stock.
Five of the party deserted the day before
the run was made and went back to their
old homes. Nine others, after sleeping
three nights in tents on the bare ground,
became discouragee and went back. The
twenty-two that held out seem to
be contented and happy, and be
lieve that they have secured a home
complete iu all its appointments. They
have contracted for the building of a
house of fifteen rooms, all on one floor,
and are themselves hauling the lumber]
They propose to do all their own work,
sucli as plowing aud planting, hiring
only the heavier work done. They are
neat in their dress and evidently prepared
for outdoor work, as theiT skirts reach
about fifteen inches from the ground and
they wear heavy woolen leggings reach
ing from the shoe top to the knee. They
are good customers, though they drive
close bargains, and they pay in checks for
their liberal purchases, showing that they
have plenty of resources, but no money
in that land of desperadoes, ’['lie women
are between the ages of thirty-live and
forty-five, and are all enthusiastic and
determined to make this the mode! home,
without any men to help or hinder.
One of Cortland's dyspeptic women
(may their tribe decrease) was taking a
Thanksgiving dinner with friends, aud
when, after picking over the good things,
•the last course had been reached, and the
hpstess rather doubtfully offered her
guest a piece of mince pie, the visitor
said: “l don't think Id better take any ;
I can’t eat mince pie unless it is very
poor. ” The hostess said “perhaps this
would suit her.” and she finally decided
to try half a piece. This she ate with
evident relish, and, passing her plate,
said: “1 think you may give me the rest
of that pie; it just suits me.” The good
housekeeper is trying hard to convince
herself that she got a compliment.
One of the pretty conceits of flie day.
says the New York Tribune, is -it boudoir
carpet made entirely of white fur] Very
large white fur rugs are also greatly in
vogue, and are not expensive- three good
sized goatskins sewn together making ti.
reosonably large rug.
White fur rugs can be easily cleaned,
and should not be allowed to remain
soiled, their beauty consisting in their
freshness.
Those who possess a superfluity of rugs
Can maky a charming effect l>v hanging
them against tlie wall in the corner of a
room, one at the head aud two or three on
the side. Another rug is suspended
lengthwise to form the top. A narrow
divan seat with four or live large cush
ions is arranged at one end and the rest
of the space is filled with a small eastern
octagon table (on which are laid cigars
and vigfirettes. matches and a silver
taper) and a couple of odiy shaped chairs.
A Turkish lamp with a red glass shade
gives just the amount of light desirable,
and a few eastern arms arranged in the
background of rugs will add greatly to
the effect.
ARTIFICIAL EYE AND CHEEK.
Wonderful Surgical Operation Per
formed on a Little Dunbar Girl.
From The Pittsburg Dispatch.
Dunbar, Dec. 1”. Dr. J. J. Mullen, of
Pittsburg: Dr. Harry Atkinson, of Con
nellsville. and.). D. Mullen, of this place,
performed a very difficult surgical opera
tion on little Mary Cooley yesterday. The
patient was accidently shot last August,
a charge of heavy shot taking effect in
the girl’s face and head. Her eye was
shot out and her whole cheek torn off
For many days she lingered between life
aud death, but finally recovered, although
very much disfigured.
The operation was to insert an artifi
cial eye and to put on an artificial check.
It Was performed at the child's home and
proved successful in every respect.
LEOPOLD ADLER,
For Xmas Presents.
SPEND YOUR MONEY WISELY! GET THE MOST FOR IT!
filar CROWDED with innumerable appropriate gifts—economical
Util yilboiliulll useful, sensible, Bric-a-Brac, China. Glass, Silver, Piano, Hall,
Huvvmvm Library and Banquet Lamps. Prices lo\ver than anywhere else!
jrg always. A Sample.— Beautiful Vase Lamps, decorated font and dome,center draft burners
|# same lamp costs you $3 50 anywhere, this week, in our Basement, $2 49.
1 COMMENCING MONDAY, DEC. 8 1 BBl^
ri||g IPJy Practical Gifts Dress Goods, Silks, Shoes, Men’s Fur-
Ulll lyinlll rlilllf nighings, Handkerchiefs, Blankets and Rugs, at our usual
■■■Will ■ IWI Unmatchable prices. 10,000 more Cloth-bound Popular Nov
els, bound in cloth and gold, every one worth 25 to 50c, at 11<* each.
O PRESENTS ATTRACTIVE TO THE ETE, PURSE AND TASTE,
(W KgOOIKI Floor, Boys** Clothing! P Every l one^of'"the 'im-
WUI VvUUIIU I IvUI I ported Pattern Hats and Bonnets, cut'from S2O, 522 50
and $25, go to $8 each this week. We offer 30 Ladies’ Fine Plushi Capes, with new Columbian
collars, trimmed with skunk and other furs, usual price up till now $25, this week sls. We
Shave got a Boy’s Fine Cheviot Double Breasted Suit, in 3 different patterns, 4 to 14 years,
worth $4, that we offer at $1 98. (Second PHoor —take elevator.)
nm I Q TfiYQ fiftMPQ ETP every child in savannah and a few for the
UULLO) IU 30, UHlfltO, LiUi, BALANCE OF CHATHAM COUNTY,
flllfi* TliarrS NOVELTIES of every description are here in vast profu-
H F. sion - The fondest wishes of childish hearts can be grat-
WUI I Bill U I IvUI I fied from our Fairy-land of toys. (Third Floor —take elevator.)
Cl fin DC JAMMED with EVERYTHlNG—everything suitable
ii'yjffll i\j 3'l if I 1 |JI lls ior rich an(i poor- old and young — at our well-known
liiiiilLiiVL ■ liUmm Popular Prices that always insure a sav
fgigjfeagsggis ; ~ w>l| yi illff. Do your shopping this week in the early morn
ing hours; don’t wait for the afternoon crowds. We are always the busiest store in Savannah,
and at Holiday Times —well, everybody who byes here knows what Christmas week is at
Adler's. There is nothing to compare to it —simply packed—because the attraction of the
Greatest A ariety and the magnet of A Lower Price always draws the ma
jority to the Big: Store.
THINK (IF THE SAD,
XI HAPPY PEOPLE!
A Christmas Sermon By Mrs. Eliza
beth Stuart Phelps-Ward.
The Author of ‘‘Gates Ajar”
Getting Over Christmas -Put Your
selves in the Sack Cloth of the Home
less, You Who Reign in the Purple
of Home While Giving Give Kind
ness.
Copyright.
How to take the dither view of things,
is one of the latest and hardest lessons
of life. The naive selfishness, that half
amusing, half provoking intolerance of
another’s position, that incapacity even to
understand it. with which we start, yield
to the spur of experience: but yield at
the cost of so much impatience on one
side, and so much heartache on the other,
that it would seem worth while to lessen
tlie friction involved in the process.
This old and simple truth comes
freshly to mind with the return of our
holidays.
’ Fest ivals arc flaming, two-edged swords.
They turn both way s with equal case and
sharpness. Created to enhance joy. they
emphasize sorrow. Their evident useful
ness is to the glad : hut their less consid
ered influence is strong ui>oii the sad.
We sometimes forget that holidays are
not the especial property of happy people.
There is something as irritating to the
thoughtless as it is appealing to
the sympathetic ju the phrase:
■They are days to be got over.”
The first time that we hear
these common words, plaintively discord
ant to the holiday key, we have no more
comprehension of them and little more
patience with them than with a Chinese
groan mar. Then the day falls When we
understand. The great deaf-mute mas
ter, I ,ife, teaches us. too; frames our own
trembling lips to form tlie language of be
reavement. of bitterness or of desolation.
We. too. slip into t he secret places of u is
doni. of soi-row and of peace; then tlie
gay and the young, and the superficial in
turn stand critical of us. It is precisely
this dual process, tilts change and inter
change of efieet which constitutes orte of
tlie most, interesting by-plays of experi
ence.
There is no sufficient reason that t know
of why tlie old.dense wall between him
who hath and him who hath nut,'should
not lie perfbrated with a few intelligible
loop-holes. One need not' expect to bat
ter it-down. It is too venerable and the
foundations too deeply laid. But to look
gently through now and then is altogether
possible.
Be patient with the sad. happy people!
Do not exact too much of the old and
weak you ,young and strong! Put your
self in the sack-cloth of the homeless
you who reign in the purple of home!
When tile holiday stir is in the air. when
the taper is lighted on the tree aud the
holly trims the hearth, when every one
that is glad grows gladder, aud every
heart that is sad turns saddest, there
comes a sacred summons to the prosper
ous life, peculiar to itself and to the time.
Then it is that those whom God hath
blessed are called to understand, if they
can, those whom He hath smitten. X
say, understand. Jt is not enough
to “remember” as tlie word goes.
Christmas charity is commonplace and
fashionable. Christmas comprehension
is more rare and a hundredfold more val
uable.
A lady passing a blind street musician
aud his wife, went back and whispered:
"I'm sorry for you.” The poor souls over-
vlwlmed her with pathetic siguals of
gratitude for months.
'.‘Oh, it's the words. you said! It's the
words you said!” the woman cried.
Money, clothes, fuel, were small matters,
and cold. Personal. comprehension was
the warm and precious thing.
The press, the sermon, the story, the
ballad and the social current: all the hol
iday power press us into the stream of
blind, imitative benevolence We give
turkeys because our neighbors do: fami
lies without coal or oatmeal, get from
three to five of those festive birds apiece.
We load sunday school trees because the
pastor says so. We spend the pocket
money of a year in four weeks on pres
ents for our relatives, because it is
"the thing" expected. We purchase
pneumonia by playing saleswomen at
church fairs: and overload the strength
and temper of our servants by houses
brimming with company, because it is
•'the way.” We bunt up every person we
ever knew, to whom we can decently offer
a gift or a dinner because "the Romans
do." We dedicate i wisely and well) the
day to our children, and make them blase
with alt the modern improvements on
Santa Glaus. But in all ,our giving we
may not give the sweet spirit that knows
just how friend or child or neighbor feels.
And in all our getting, we may fail to get
the patience and gentleness which put us
in the place of him vvno receives.
The study of the mind and heart of an
other is a subtle art. Tlie highest form
of tact consists in making ourselves per
sona* gratae to those upon whom we con
fer a favor.
Happiness, which, is the only real
noblesse oblige forever. Possession is al
ways under obligation to denial, and
strength is the divinely appointed serv
itor of weakness.
Do not suffer in yourself that natural
recoil of the sympathies when the one
sad heart in the hotue group yields to the
darkening face that jars a festival hour.
There usually is at least one sad person in
the sunniest household. Perhaps it is
the maiden sister whose own young hope
went out in ashes, long ago: whose pain
and whose pride keep rigid stt*p together;
whose abundant interest in yourself and
your affairs is not always as natural or as
easy as it may seem to you. What hap
pened to her one holiday week.,rears
since I Do you remember tlie day when
she was plighted to her lover .* Or the
da.V when she broke the brief betrothal
whose memory has shadowed her life!
Be sure she does.
Suppose it is tlie ‘-poor relation,”
withered and gray, and patient, who
needs but*never asks your large hearted
consideration.
One is so used to her drawn face, her
quiet step, her long, uncomplaining ser
vice. her content with what is grossly
called "board wages” that one iiardlv
pauses to put her outside of the daily
habit of the house as a soul by itself.
Wiieu the “home days” come, when the
extra step and the extra smile are exacted
and expected of her—is there always
somebody to remember how lonely she
feels, or to understand the heart-sick
homelessness of one who spends a life in
the homes of other jieople! It is notan
easy way to live. All your sweetest tact
and gentlest thoughtfulness cannot make
it so.
I was once in a serious illness under the
care of a professional nurse at holiday
time. On Christmas Eve she disturbed
me a good deal by a hearty fit of crying.
The brute instinct of the sick rose and
rebelled, and somewhat fretfully. 1 fear.
1 asked: “What is the matter!’' Then the
story poured forth : To poor to keep up
her own home, her sickly husband exiled
to some country relatives and her chil
dren scattered, while she earned tlie
bread fer the family, the woman’s nerves
trace way under the iuffiuenee of the
happy home in which she served, and
where the illness which accounted for
her presence was not suffered to forestall
the Christmas celebration. She was al
lowed to have her cry uut, sympatlieti
LEOPOLD ADLER.
(•ally—and watched the better for it that
night.
Take tne servant m your kitchen- -if
she annoys'you by a sob or two, or a fi t of
temper on holiday week, does slit*, there
fore. deserve a scolding for it!
Investigate the cast*. She may
need the tenderest consideration of any
member of the family. Do you know her
history, her circumstances, her friends!
A child's nurse was drowned recently, in
a successful effort to rescue the baby left
in her charge. When the body of the girl
was taken to the mansion of her mistress,
it was found that no one knew where she
came from, who her family were, nor even
her last name.
If the cook sulks, or the waitress cries,
count twenty before the rebuke flashes
from the lip. No statistician has ever es
timated the amount of pluck and depth of
home-sickness in the lives of our young
Irish girls, "just come over.’’aud mourn
ing for home and parents. One, I knew,
who, whenever she was hurt b.v any little
accident, instinctively cried out: “Oh,
me mother!” just as most of us say, "Oh,
ray God!” Christmas did not omit to
happen, in the old country in the warm-'
hearted peasants' loving h-une. Too often
we act as if we had forgotten this simple
historical fact.
Even if the sob means no more than
that well-naturalized Bridget must give
up her dance at her cousin's to stay and
roast turkey for us aud our cousins, there
is a deprivation, there is a grief. Eet us
be patient with it.
There is a small way of giving great
comfort, in which I think we do not
enough educate ourselves or each other:
and that is by rememberiug other peo
ple's anniversaries.
The relative or guest who isa widow in
deed, steals away and locks herself in her
own room when she is particularly
wanted; she comes down in answer to
somebody’s impatient,knock. Why did
slit* not stay to play the waltzes for the
children to dance! She brushes off the
streaming tears. East year,—two years
—or was it a hundred years ago—she
bowed those wet cheeks to tlie last kisses
of lips that are cold. Her Christmas is
“a day to be got over.”
There sits one at jour fireside, be
reaved of the light of bis life. It is his
first Christmas without her. He wanders
about the house with the pathetic awk
wardness of a homeless and a wretched
man. He tries to brave it out as men do.
He would "get over it,” somehow, if ho
can. He strolls into all sorts of unoccu
pied places, ostensibly to smoke. He
flings himself out fol* long walks on the
ground of a headache. He joins in the
chorus of “Home, Sweet Home,” and
breaks down and takes his hat and disap
pears. He is not there to distribute the
presents, and somebody says "how un
gracious of him 1” Who understands that
every glance of love from happy eve to
happy eye. every touch of a live wife's
hand upon her husband's arm.every little
loving attitude with which she turns to
him or clings to him, stabs the bereaved
man to the heart's core!
To sum it. in a word, be merciful: be
merciful to sorrow, to desolation, to un
comfortable positions that are Out half
understood, to irritable nerves, whose
causes are not known, to memories whose
underground rivers you cannot follow, to
the past that everyone else has forgot
ten. to the present that is overweighted
with perplexity too heavy to be thrown
off at the beck of a dance or a dinner, to
that temperament which is most unlike
your own. to the sensitiveness with which
you have least natural sympathy, to
every human heart that is “getting over”
hard places which you do not see—and be
most merciful on anniversary days.
But the page is printed on both sides
The leaf does not turn with a blank which
no corresponding obligation fills. The sad
have their summons as well as the glad
and the desolate, like the blessed, must
answer to the great call of the Christ
spirit whieh rings through the world He
whose sacred birth we celebrate was
above all else a man of sorrows. To many
a human heart this is the dearest of his
titles. Who ever bore trouble as ho (lid!
Who ever so grandly lifted the burden!
! Who so quietly, and patiently and pleas-
I antly, if one may say so. accepted the
! eruelest of lots' Whoso fiuug his own
misery out of sight and sound ; Who so
utterly quenched himself and his personal
pang in the happiness aud tho
comfort of others' There he
stands. sorrowful aud smiling, a
spotless mirror. To hold one’s way
of bearing trouble up to his for
reflection may be humiliating, but it is
not an .act which any miserable person
ever regretted. Personal sorrow is the
last thing which should ever be imposed
oil other people. The unhappy are not to
take advantage of the happy. Do no:
urge their chivalry. Do not strain their
sympathy. Do not press their Christian
ity. Do not "get over” your anniversa
ries too palpably. The celestial ma
chinery should never creak. The noble
heart, when it is wounded, withdraws
into a divine silenee, and sacredly learns
its awful lesson. Do not expect or exact
i too much. Keai’ii to live without sym
pathy. Seek to suffer, if suffer you must,
without recognition of the process. Hurl
yourself into thehappiuess ' nearest you.
as a stone drops down a well, and sink
thero if you can.
There are two sweet things in human
life—to be happy one’s self and to make
another so. When the first is gone, the
next, thank God, is always left.
Do not lock yourself in your room too
soon, too often, or too long. Pash away
the tears. Play the waltzes for thechil
dren. Put away your crape. Wear a
white dress anil a high mien, and the
smile of those who conquer the selfish
ness of pain on Christmas day.
The best friends of the tempted, of the
young, of the erring and the overlooked
are these who have known the sorest
anguish and have achieved the sweetest
peace.
Such. too. are the most sacred flowers
of our festivals, and the dearest angels of
our happy homes.
Elizabeth Stuart PHEirs.
Talked With the Dead.
From the Philadelphia Press.
St. Joseph. Mo., Dec. 12. —A most re
markable occurrence is agitating the com
munity eight miles north of this city, w
Savannah. Mo. Some time last June
Thomas, the 11-year-old son of a farmer
named Alexander Gilpin, was stricken
with rheumatism of the right arm apd
leg. Doctors could do nothing to stop the
pain, which became so severe that the
boy had lock-jaw.
On Thursday he fell into what seemed
to be a trance and could not be aroused
for some hours. When he was finally
awakened, being unable to talk, he wrote
on a piece of paper to his parents that lie
had seen his two little dead brothers and
sister. He said they told him to send t 0
a certain field and at a particular place
to scrape away the snow until they would
find a bed of moss and under this a bunch
of loots, which they were to bring to
him.
The doubting parents yielded to his en '
treaties and going to tlie place, found
everything as tlie boy had stated. inc
brought the roots home and the boy toi>
them how lie bad been instructed to P ri '
pare an ointment with them. The oint
ment was made* and applied to the seat o
pam. tlie result being that the next ua.'
the boy left his bed and all traces of lock
jaw disappeared. He can now walk •
well as ever.
Shells as Money.
Tlie only money current in the larp*
sultanate of Adamawa, in central Sound '
is cowrie shells. The agents of l- nan*"--
who have been trying, with indiffer®
success, to get a foothold there. sa. v ]( lt
is a dear h of the circulating nl
and commerce greatly embarrassed i
the scarcity of currency.