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DOSIA
— OR —
THE TAMING OF A GIRL.
BY HENRY ORtVILLE.
Translated from the French, for the
“Sunny South,”
BY PROF. 0HA3. F. GAILMARD.
XXIV,
The road they followed returning nome wa3
along the river, wmch is very deep, except at a few
places. As they came to one of those fords, mark
ed by a lew poles, a young boy driving a country
wagon entered the river from the opposite side,
following the best he could, the problematic line
indicated by the poles. The carriages stopped to
witness how he would cross this somewhat dan
gerous place.
The boy's horse did not display much eagerness
for the cold bath in etore for him, and protested
in his own way before entering the water.
*The water is deep,’ said Madame Zaptine ; ‘it
will not be easy to pull that wagon through.’
‘Is the ford dangerous?’ asked Pluto.
‘No, if he keeps on the right path, but if he
deviates, right or left, the horse will have to swim.’
The horse was progressing slowly, feeling the
ground as he went, when the wagon slipped on
one side, dragging the horse after it. The man
waa in the water up to his breast, and the animal
was swimmiDg.
•Lord, save me !’ exclaimed the driver.
‘He has lost the path !’ they all cried.
Dosia did not utter a word. She quickly
gathered before her the hanging folds of her dress,
and whipped Bayard, who started for the river.
‘Dosia! what are you doing?’ cried her mother.
The two young men sprung to the ground, but
Dosia was already into the river. Bayard knew
the ford and went boldly into it, smelling the
water, not through fear but through prudence.
When Dosia arrived at the middle of the river, ihe
wagon had almost disappeared under the water,
and the horse was making strenuous efforts to free
himself of the harness, while the young peasant
was calling to his aid all the saints in heaven.
Dosia hesitated two seconds, then crossing her
self, she urged Bayard into swimming water out
side the path. He plunged so deeply into the river
that even Dosia’s head went under the water. The
young men had taken off their uniforms to go to her
rescue when she reappeared and cried to them :
‘Never mind ! God will help me!’
Leaning over Bayard’s head, and extending her
arm as far as she could, she succeeded in getting
hold of the other horse s bridle. The animal took
confidence and yielded to the impulse. Bayard,
well led, soon got back into the path, and a moment
later the two horses, the wagon and Dosia—all
dripping with water—landed safely, resembling
Neptune’s court just emerging from the waves.
‘The cold will kill you, Dosia 1’ said Madame
Zaptine. ‘Oh ! that child will cause my death !’
Her mother was not through speaking, before
Dosia was already far off. She had put Bayard
to a tremendous gallop towards the house. The
company kept silent during the way.
On arriving, Plato was the first in the room,
where he found Dosia, already undressed and
wrapped up in a flannel wrapper, from her mo
ther s wardrobe. She was standing up, trembling
with cold. Her wet clothes were piled up on the
floor at her feet.
‘You see, mother, I did not take the trouble of
going up stairs ; they gave me one of your wrap
pers. Don’t I look funny?’
She was laughing, but her teeth were chatter
ing.
They put her on a sofa and covered her up with
warm blankets. Tea was given her, and after the
second cup, she stopped trembling. Then Madame
Zaptine began remonstrating.
‘Mother,’ said Dosia, unceremoniously inter
rupting her, ‘my father told me that we must al
ways help those in trouble, even at the risk of our
life. But there was no danger there, for Bayard
knows the ford as he knows his stall in the stable;
we have passed it a hundred times.’
‘But the consumption ! terrible child !’
‘I could take it just as well at a ball, without
profit to any one,’ philosophically answered Dosia.
•Please give me another cup of tea.’
Madame Zaptine was obliged to stop her remarks
there, but Dosia had an idea which she wanted to
put through.
‘Did not Bayard behave well?’ she asked.
■Yes, he did ; I was not expecting eo much of
him.’
•Because you never did appreciate his good
qualities. He has saved the life of one of his
kind, and for that he deserves a reward, does
he not ?’
‘Yes. If you want it, I will order a double
ration of oats to be given him.’
‘A double ration of oats is right, I thank you for
him, but I would wish something more.’
‘What is it ?’
‘He must not pull that water hogshead any more,
it is too servile a work for him.’
‘Amid a burst of laughter, Mine. Zaptine solemn
ly declared that hereafter Bayard should be ex
empted from all degrading duty.
‘Thank you, mother, I am satisfied. Now I
would like to sleep.’
‘We will carry you to your room, dear.’
‘Carry me!’ exclaimed Dosia, laughing, ‘just
like a basket of clothes. I intend to go there my
self with only the help of my own feet.’
She rose, threw off the blanket—a corner of
which filled up her sister’s cup, and left for her
room, after a graceful ‘good night’ addressed to the
company.
She avoided looking at Plato, whose eyes had
followed her ever since he had entered the dining
room.
XXV.
Dosia slept soundly; Mme Zaptine had a night
mare, and Plato did not sleep at all. Dosia was
always present in his mind. Perhaps she was
now struggling against the first symptoms of a
disease that might kill her, perhaps death—whom
she had called the day before—was at her bed
side. If she did not like to live, was not Mourief
the cause of it ? Why was he not satisfied with
the good qualities she possessed? Why did he
dream of an impossible perfection?
‘If she dies,’ he thought, ‘what ahall I do on
this earth ?’ . , ,
He went down to the dining room, and found
Madame Zaptino preparing the coffee tor breakfast.
•Well,’ dear madame, how is Dos—, Mademoi
selle Theodosie?’
•Mademoiselle Theodosie is here, answered the
young girl, in a slightly hoarse voice, I am here
taking the sun on the balcony, Monsieur Plato.’
Plato ran rather than walked to the balcony.
<^j.g you well now ?’ asked Plato, in a voice as
hoarse as if he had himself caught cold in the
nV ‘There is nothing the matter with me. I slept
▼ery well last night; there is nothing like a cold
bath to make one sleep.’ f
•But at this time of the ye#! ......
•In two weeks from now everybody will bathe
in the lake; I am a little ahead of them, that's
looked at her as if he had found back a lost
treasure!
‘Have you drunk your coffee?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘Have your cup brought here. We will break
fast together.’
A moment later, a servant brought a little table
and a waiter with the breakfast. Eating, more
than anything else, creates a sympathy of impres
sions. Dosia soon began to speak at random as
before. Occasionally a shadow passed through
her mind, but she was the only one to know it.
When the cups were empty, Dosia threw on the
balcony a few crumbs of bread which were soon
picked up by birds coming from every directions.
•They know me,’ said Dosia, ‘and they love me
well!’
She closed her eyes, and her long black eye
lashes threw a dark tint upon her pale face. Plato
looked at her in anxiety.
A servant took the table away. Plato remained
alone with the young girl.
‘Dosia !’ he began, after a long hesitation.
She opened her eyes and blood rushed to her
face.
‘Dosia,’ continued the young man, ‘I have been
very hard on you ! Will you forgive it ?’
She extended her hand as if to sign him not to
say a word of that.
He took that cold hand and kept it in his own.
‘I had in my mind an angelic perfection and I
wished you to resemble my ideal. I was wrong :
every one has his instincts, his sentiments, his
impressions that are his own; you could not pos
sibly be ’
‘Like Sophie! interrupted Dosia, with a sigh.
‘Oh! no.’
She drew her hand, which Plato timidly tried to
retain, sighed a second time and looked another
side.
‘As you are, Dosia,’ continued Plato, ‘you are
good and charming ; you deserve esteem and affec
tion from all, and—you have it.’
‘I attach more importance to the esteem of some
few than to that of all.’
•You have both,’ said Plato, ‘you have inspired
me with a sentiment unknown to me before, a
sentiment that will change my life.’
He interrupted himself. His eyes had said more
than his words.
‘I am ashamed,’ replied Dosia, ‘that I have stolen
an esteem which I do not deserve. You probably
love me for my sincerity, my frankness—as for
other qualities, I dont see any. Well! even that
with me is deceitful. I ought to have lold you so
lung ago, but sometimes you was so severe, that I
did not dare to speak of myself to you ; I was
wrong, I see it now.’ Plato listened to her with a
great satisfaction. A heavenly hope was penet
rating into his soul, but he did not dare yet to
believe in it.
Dosia continued :
•You are speaking of sentiments that will have
a great influence upon your life. Before it is too
late, before those sentiments become the torment
of your life, as they have done that of ’
She bit her lips, grew pale and added ;
‘I must tell you that I am not what you believe
me to be. Last year, disgusted with my life in
this house, I perpetrated a folly that will cost me
the happiness of my life. In a moment of exasper
ation, I asked my cousin Pierre to run away with
me. He had no love for me. I believe I knew it
even then, but I had lost the control of my reason,
1 was determined to leave this house ; I insisted
and finally he consented. We had not traveled
two miles before I realized how imprudent my
conduct was. I regretted what I had done, and as
nobody knew it, Pierre was kind enough to bring
me back home, without even addressing me the
reproaches I so weli deserved. After this, sir,
after a fault which —is only mine—for Pierre is
completely innocent I am not deserving of your
esteem, forgive me for having illegitimately pos
sessed it so long.’
She ceased speaking, and two bitter tears ran
telegraphic wire,’ he said laughing, ‘especially my
aunt with her feather-weight.’
Madame Zaptine laughed heartily. Her cont
entment on that day was such that she had forgot
ten to be sick. The plank began moving up and
down, Mourief always looking at them.
‘Say, Dosia,’ he cried, ‘do you remember here,
last year ’
He stopped short, fearing, he had already said
too much.
‘Yes I remember, but you were not then as pleas
ant as you are this evening. Well! come and
swing wi*h us too.’
Pierre threw away his cigarette, seated himself
near Sophie, and struck the ground vigorously
with his foot, giving the already too loaded plank a
frightful start, and every one followed his example
amid a burst of la ughter.
•You will break the swing,’ screamed Madame
Zaptine, trying her best to stop them.
‘Never mind! aunt, it does not matter,’ answer
ed Mourief, whose handsome face glowed with
delight. ‘It is only a family party. We are all
one now.’
And so they were a week later.
It was a double wedding that took place that
auspicious day in the grand old church that loving
hands had adorned with evergreens and snow-
white blossoms.
[the end.]
New York After Dark.
All The World Over.
silently u TiU her cheeks, ohe tried 10 master
her emotion, but could not. Her sobs burst out
violently and she cried abundantly, hiding her face
upon the back of her arm chair.
‘Dosia,’ uttered Plato’s voice, so close to her
ear that she started, Dosia, you are an angel! I
knew that story!’
She sighed deeply,
•You knew it and you loved me still?’
‘No, Dosia, I did not love you—not enough, I
mean—not as I love you now. I was asking my
self if you would have enough confidence in me to
speak.’
‘Many a time I tried to, but you were so serious,
you set-med to consider me as such an insignificant
being, I was so much afraid of you ’
‘And now ?’
‘Now !’ said Dosia, smiling, ‘you scare me some
yet, but not so much. Have you really any esteem
for me ?’
•Yes,’ said Plato, smiling too, ‘you have done
like Bayard, you have saved one of your kind.’
‘That is not worth speaking of.’
‘I have never done as much ! but as I am wiser
than you, that may balance the situation. Do you
remember the day we came to the conclusion that
you should marry a very wise man ?’
•I shed many a tear on that day !’
‘You shall not shed any more tears. Do you
find me wise enough to be your husband ?’
Dosia looked at him, opened her arms to him,
but through a graceful virginal modesty, folded
them immediately upon her breast, and resumed
her seat, pale but always looking at him. He fold
ed her in his arms, and went with her—almost
carried her—into the house.
Madame Zaptine had a splendid opportunity for
lecturing on etiquette, but she missed it, for the
Princess signed to her, sayiDg :
‘1 believe that my brother has a communication
to make you.’
‘Madame,’ said Plato, ’‘I come to ask you Made
moiselle Dosia’s hand
To describe the exclamations and tumult that
followed is simply impossible. Homere alone could
attempt it successfully.
Dosia went up stairs to come down a few minutes
later, with a dress in keeping with her new state
of affiance. They organized a dance, and Mour
ief volunteered to turn the hand-organ that was
to be the orchestra. He displayed so much zeal
in his functions that he broke the handle of the
musical bex an accident that was a new pretense for
merriment. They all enjoyed themselves so much
that until they retired to their room, Dosia’s sisters
had no time to grieve upon the great injustice fate
had done them on that day.
‘Our wedding shall take place next week,’ said
Plato when they had all gathered around the
table for dinner.
‘What!’ exclaimed Madame Zaptine, ‘and what
about the trousseau ?’
‘I don’t marry the trousseau; we can get that
after while. But we must marry next week, at
the same time with Sophie. Don't we, Dosia ?’
‘Certainly ! You know, I take Bayard along.’
‘What a good thing!’ exclaimed all the sisters
in a chorus.
•Don’t rejoice too much,’ said Dosia, ‘otherwise
I will leave you my dog.’
The sisters begged pardon, and it was agreed
that the dog should follow Bayard.
After dinner, the company came down to the
garden, and Madame Zaptine, owing to an old
habit of her youth, seated herself on the swinging
plank. For the last twenty-eight years, she had
spent a few minutes there every day after dinner,
to help her digestion. Two young girls followed
her, then Dosia and Plato. Finally the whole
company joined them, except Mourief, who stood
about three yards, from them, smoking a cig-
arrette.
‘You look like a row of swallowB perched on a
Mr. Talmasc Continues his Recital
of his Researches in Rot hum
by Rus light.
The Tabernacle was filled to its utmost cap
acity on Sunday ‘24tb inst. New York s sensa
tional preacher continued his lectures on the
wickedness to be seen after dark in the modern
Sodom, even New Jersey hawing poured forth
her thousands to hear of the iniquities of New
York. Among the ranks of reporters were half
a dozen artists, who, having sketched the mus
icians and the pnlpit before the arrival oi the
parson, turned toward the open-mouthed con-
gation and began to sketch it, at which process
some ladies put fans before their faces while
others had the appearance of trying to bring
their feathers into prominent relief. Mr. Tal-
mage gave out tho text: ‘The gates of hell shall
not prevail against it,’ and then buttoned his
coat and commenced: ‘ “ It’s only ten o'clock,’’
said the officer, as we got into the carriage on
the night of the exploration. “It’s only 10, and
it's too early to see the places yet, for the the
atres are not yet out.” “How's that,” said I.
“Oh,” said he, “these haunts are patronised
by people who go in the early part of the even
ing to the theatres. They are never in full
blast until after the theatres are out.” So we
loitered on, and the officer told the driver to
stop in a certain street. All seemed quiet and
dark, and the blinds of the house were drawn
down. I was, however, told that we stood be
fore one of the costliest and most brilliant gam
bling houses in the city. The doors were guard
ed, but, after a whispered* word from the officer,
they swung open, and we entered a long parlor.
All the work was going on in silence, save
such noise as was made by the rattling of the
chi^s at a faro table and th6 whirl of the ball at
a roulette table. Before each table were sitting
men. Some of these, the officer told me, had
served terms in prisoD. Side by side they were
seated with bankers, merchants and ship brok
ers. None looked up. All were watching the
ball and the cards. Their facts were pale.
Some saw houses, and horses and families go
ing into the dreadful vortex.’
Then Mr. Talmage detailed with rather tedious
particularity the routined gambling house bus
iness. ‘Pshaw,’ said he, ‘the literature about
the costliness and magnificence of tluse palaces
is all untrue. Men kept their hats on and
smoked and there was nothing rich either in
the way of paintings or nnhclsh-fry- It was
simply a den of death. These arc the places
where men have their earnings and their prop
erty won away, and then go forth, some to
drink, some to resort to the forger’s pen and to
suicide. But it is 11 o’clock, and we must be
off. The body-guard slammed the door behind us
and we entered our carriage and drove down to
ward the gates of hell—Oh! the gates of hell! They
are burnished until they shine in the gaslight,
and they are set in sockets of deep and dreadful
masonry. They are high, to keep from any
esoape t‘nos6 who are within them, but it is safe
to go when the Lord tells you and I entered the
gates of hell and am here to sketch what I saw
within. To-day I shall tell you what these gates
are made of. Gate the first—impure literature.
At this sudden diversion from the subject
of ‘ New York After Dark,’ there was a little
murmur of dissatisfaction among the audience
and some went away. The speaker caused the
adult portion of Lis congregation to turn pale
by saying all sorts of dreadful things concern
ing the extent to which bad books and novel
ettes ar secretly owned by the younger mem
bers of the best households in the land, and
said that there are one million men aud women
in the United States to-day reading themselves
into heii.
The second gate of hell is the dissolute dance.
‘ Whatever,’ said Mr. * Talmage, * you may
think of the methodic movement of the body to
the sounds of music in social circles, you must
recognise the fact that there is a dissolute dance.
It is seen not only in the gilded halls of hell,
but in fine mansions. You know what postures
and attii udes and figures are suggested by the
devil. This gate of hell is so wide that it swings
across the Axminister to many a drawing room,
and its shadow passes over the hard and pol
ished floor of the ball room. You have no right
to take attitudes to music which you could not
take without it.’
The third gate of hell Mr. Talmage called ‘in
decent apparel.' ‘Iam told,’ said he, ‘that a
new fashion of female dress is about coming in
from Paris which is most shocking to all right
eousness.
At this statement the women in the audience
looked at one another in surprise,
‘Oh, I oharge you Christaiu women neither by
the style of address or adjustment of apparel to
become administrators of evil. Perhaps no one
else will dare tell you this fact, so I will tell it
to you. The multitude of men owe their eter
nal damnation to boldness of female attire. [Ap-
plause and a few hisses.] You wonder the city
of Tyre was destroyed. Have you ever seen the
fashion plates of that city ? I show them to you.’
So saying Mr. Talmage picked up the Bible and
read the passage wherein the daughters of Tyre
are described as using a mincing gait, whimples,
and crimping pins. ‘ Do you wonder,’ said he,
‘ that the Lord blotted out that place ?’
Mr. Talmage’s fourth gate of hell, and the
last of which he spoke, was called ‘alcholic bev
erage.’ ‘As we went about to these dens of
death,’ he said, ‘I noticed that the influence of
the wine-cup was every where. The officers told
me that one of the difficulties met with In clos
ing up these places arises from the fact that
they are all licensed to sell drinks. I say that
the courts and the legislatures are responsible
for murder.’
In conclusion, Mr. Talmage made a little ad
dress to the army of reporters present: ‘I am
greatly obliged to you, gentlemen,’ said he ; ‘I
thank you for the almost universal fairness with
whioh you have presented what I have had to
say. Of course, amoBg the educated and refin
ed journalists that sit here there will be a fool
or two who don’t understand his business.’
At this sally the congregation burst into a
loud laugh. Mr. Talmage announced that he
should oontinue to preach about his visit to
New York until he had said all that he had to
say.
Hotel Bobbers Bagged.—Three men, regis
tered as John Bradly, J. H. Murray and James
Thompson, were arrested in Richmond, Va.,
Tuesday nigh*, whilst in the act of robbing the
room of Judge H. H. Marshall at the Exchange
Hotel. On the same night, on the train between
Petersburg and Richmond, a merchant on his
way North to buy goods was robbed of $3 800,
and on Wednesday a passenger on his way to tbe
Richmond Fair, on the Richmond, Fredericks
burg and Potomac Railroad, was relieved of a
gold watch, and another passenger was robbed
of S150.
George H. Oviatt discovered a snake of worms
in Orange, near the boundary line between the
town of Orange and Woodbridge, Conn., about
two weekg ago, which was crossing the highway.
It was four feet two inches in length, and the
worms were about three-eights of an inch in
length and of a pale brown color, except the
head, which was black. Daring half an hour
they moved only a few feet. He separated the
worms several times, but they remained so only
a short time, and joined the main body. The
snake consisted of hundreds of these worms,
which travel in the form of a srake, and leave a
wet trail behind them. There were several lead
ers, followed by hundreds of these worms, one
above another, from one-quarter to one-half of
an inch in thickness, and over four feet in length.
A snake or chain of worms was seen in this town
last year, but it was not as large as this one.
Mrs. Griffin and Her Children.—The fam
ily of Dennis Griffiu, who lives in Paterson, N.
J., consisted of a wife and two children. A week
ago his wife left him after a quarrel, and he
moved, with his children, to the house of a
friend. Yesterday his wife came back, and, as
he refused to give up the children, had the whole
party arrested. Judge Wallace, after hearing
the story, ordered them all to go home and set
tle their quarrel.
‘Who takes the children?’ Mrs. Griffin asked,
excitedly.
‘The father has the right of custody.’
•But he sha’n t have them !’ cried Mrs. Griffin,
clasping the children frantically.
‘I will have them,’ shouted the father, seizing
Mrs. Griffin and endeavoring to force the chil
dren from her. The youngsters screamed and it
took three policemen to separate the husband
and wife, and even after that Mrs. Griffin sprang
over the railing of the bar and made a furious
attack on Mr. Griffin, crying piteously for the
possession of her little ones. The police finally
ejected her, but she lay in wait and, when her
husband came out, again attacked him, until he
and the children were glad to seek police pro
tection.
# New York, Nov. 8.—Mrs. A. T. Stewart has
offered a reward of $25,000 for the recovery of
the body of her late husband, stolen irom the
family vault in St. Marks’ Church graveyard,
and conviction of the thieves. A proportionate
sum will be paid for the recovery of the body.
Shot in His Door.—At Houston, Texas, on
the 7th inst., a man on horseback rode up to the
city residence of Adolph Schachtrupp, and call
ing him out shot him down with a shot gun. A
nephew of the deceased recognized the assassin
as William Coward. Schachtrupp was a witness
against Coward, charged with stealing Schach-
trupp’s mule.
An amiable Milanese grocer of forty-seven
summers, on his return home recently from his
shop, found a letter from his young wife, in
which she informed him that, as her parents had
married her against her will to a man old enough
to be her papa, and whom she could not there
fore love, it had appeared best for her to run
away with a lover. The grocer immediately
went stark mad, and was sent to a lunatic asy
lum.
Maine has grown 1, 300,000 bushels of wheat
the past year, against 278,000 bushels in 18G9.
The Maine Farmer has offered prizes of $50,
$30, and $20 for the be3t growths on an acre of
land in 1879.
A farmer at Ulverstone, England, gave a lift
home from market to a neighbor and her three
children. For this kindly act he was arrested,
on the ground that he had violated the law,
which licensed his cart to carry only merchan
dise, and a reluctant judge was compelied to
fine him heavily.
A profusely illustrated convict named John
Logan escaped from the New Jersey State prison
on the 21th nit. He had india-inked on his
right arm two anchors, one cross, two stars, and
one ballet-girl; on bis right hand a shield, a
cross, a heart, two stars, and five ink-spots; on
the left arm the initials ‘J. L.,’ a coat of arms, a
star, a tree and a heart;a bracelet in ink on his
left; while upon the back of his left haud was
displayed the American eagle.
Mabel Whitman and Dr. Spears have been ar
raigned in Boston for poisoning the the mother
of the former. Physicians testified to finding
arsenic in Mrs. Whitman’s stomach. A druggist
testified to selling arsenic to the daughter of the
victim, and friends and neighbors of the family
testified to the fact that she had frequently in
quired as to the nature of poison, and arsenic in
particular.
A full-grown ordinary water lizard, over four
inches in length, was vomited alive in Toronto
last week, by a 9-year-old son of Mr. P. McEvoy,
of Emily, near Downey ville. The boy bad been
complaining for some weeks of pain in his stom
ach, bat his parents thought it was nothing
more than colic. A few days ago the pain was
accampanied by asuffooating feeling, the lizard
evidently trying to make its way upward a la
excelsior. Wednesday morning th9 little boy
jumped out of bed feeling very sick, and the
next moment, to the surprise and horror of the
family, his lizardship crawled along the floor in
lively style.
A Deathbed Confession.—Aggie McDonald,
the young woman who made the oharges of
orimiaalitr against the priestsofthe Catholic
College at Quincy, Illinois, died on last Tues
day morning. On Sunday morning she procured
arsenic, and Monday morning she was found
by Mrs. McDonald, the lady of the house where
she was staying, very siok. She acknowledged
she had taken poison, and Dr. Wilson was
called. He arrived about 4 a’m. and found
her very low; administered antidotes, and told
her she would die. She then acknowledged that
her statements, charging the Brothers of the
College with criminality with her were false,
and retracted her aoonsations in the presence of
several witnesses, among them one of the Broth
ers, who was sent for after midnight. A past
mortem wa3 held, and the discovery made that
the statements about her condition were nntrne.
THE FEMALE BOOK AGENT.
A LIFE SKETCH.
This fiend is set down as oft.be feminine sen
der. That is to say, she bunches out the back
of her hair, and she privately owns a pot of rouge,
with a small cargo of lily-white powder, also;
she elastics her stockings about the knee, and
she weareth a tight dress, whioh displays the
rounded contour of her form.
So you see that she must be of the feminine
gender.
Man doesn’t do this sort of thing—much.
Also, man is not a great success as a female
solicitor for subscriptions to monthly numbers
of ‘Castle’s Bible,’ elegantly illustrated by
Hunky Dory; or the ‘Life of Christopher Co
lumbus, with cuts from the live Indians he dis
covered.’
If a man came into year office and asked yon
to subscribe for one of those monuments of lit
erature and art, yon would calmly say, ‘No,’
and point oar dexter hand, doorward. But
when a woman comes in, and asks yon a like
question, she sitteth herself down, and she
draweth nigh to herself a chair upon which to
rest her dainty feet; and she arrangeth her back
hair, and giveth forth a sigh ‘A—ah!’
Then she feels more comfortable, but she
finds it to be necessary to shake oat her skirts
once more before she is really at home in her
chair, and then she opens her mouth and com
mences.
‘I have called on yon to-day, sir, with the
first numbers of that great worn, entitled ‘The
Descent of Darwin from the Origin of Monkey,
showing the first elongation of the caudal ap
pendage, with a view of the last stamp.' Illus
trated, sir, with cuts by the great artist Michael
Mac ADgelo, from Galway, Ireland, who closely
investigated—’
Yon here, at last, muster up courage to s»y :
‘I don't care to subscribe for it. madam. And,
excuse me, I am very busy. Good morning.’
And you mildly move your hand, as a gentle
hint tuat the door is near, and is an easy place
of exit.
But this female-not being a man—arises in
her seat, wriagles, pulls out some concealed
female rigging,' which has become disarranged,
and again commences:
‘This work will be completed in 144 monthly
numbers, price ouiy 59 cents each. $o you see
that in twelve years —’
Here patience ceases to be a virtue, and you
exclaim, ‘Madam, madam, I don't want your
work. I’m busy. Please go, and leave me to
my business!
Then she rises and says, ‘If I am to be in
sulted, if a lady is in danger of personal assanlt
—but no, I will not believe it. I place myself
on my footing as a Woman, and I beg to remind
you that each month as this Great Work is is
sued from the press I shall come here, person
ally, to deliver it.’
This last straw breaks your camel's back. Yon
rise in your manhood and exclaim, ‘Madam,
this is too mnch!' Yon open the door and say,
‘I mast beg yon to leave me. I dont want your
boob. I don’t want yon; but I do want to be
left alone.’ You place your hand lightly upon
her shoulder, as indicating yonr manly deter
mination that she must go oat. She raises a
little shriek of alarm! She retires into the room,
she seats herself, she tells you that she is a wo
man and a mother (as if she could be a mother
if she wasn’t a woman); that one of her father's
consins was Secretary of the Navy under Presi
dent Jackson, and that if you toueti her, or dare
to lay finger upon her again, she will screech
tor the police. Then she sobs. You have busi
ness appointments, and your watch warns you
that the minutes are few before men will be
coming into your office. What can you do ? A
voioe, broken with sobs, buzzes in your ear, as
if beard ?> n m a distance, or in a dream- and the
words are, ‘This Great work will be illustrated
by Michael MacAngelo, from Galway and
Then you succumb, Yon open your wallet
and pay your money, and the Female Book-
Agent Fiend departs with a grin, to pi ty Ler
little game over again on your neighbors.
Drs. Bell and Blackburn.
A young lady was complimented in \\ ashing-
ton society for the simplicity of hi r dress. She
replied: ‘lam glad you like it. It cost seven
dollars, and I made it np myself.’ When young
ladies pride themselves on the cheapness of their
attire instead of its expensiveness, we shall have
fewer ‘broken’ fathers and husbands.
How absurd it is to tell girls that beauty is of
no value, dress of no use. Beauty is of value.
A girl’s whole prospects in life may depend
upon a new dress or a becoming bonnet. The
great thing is to teach the just value of dress,
and that for real happiness there mast be some
thing better ander the bonnet than a pretty face!
What is the difference,’ asked a teacher in
arithmetic, between one yard and two yards ?’
‘A fence,’ said Tommy Beales. Then Tommy
sat on the ruler fourteen times.
The Hero of the Hour,
Louisville,Nov. 2.—Dr. Luke Blackburn is the
bon pt tbe hour. He returned a few days ago fom
Hickman, whither he had gone as a heroic Ken
tuckian to the succor of his brethren. Gr nd
old man! We hold him in our inmost hearts, a
hero of heroes. Believing firmly in the theory
of contagion, and never haviag had the diseace,
he bravely, grandly goes where the scourge rev
els wildest, to Kentuckians first, after that to all
the world, if need be. No question now as to
who our next governor shall be. This self-sac
rifice is no new thing, practiced for eff. ct, He
has worked through sixteen great epidemics. It
had been arrauged to give him an ovation at the
Exposition to-night, when he was to be introdu
ced by Dr. Bell,the physician who is Blackburn's
dismatric opponent in theory, and who received
an ovation and a medal some time since, for his
wise prevention of a paaic. Bat Dr. B. object
ed to the fuss and the speech-making, nad wonld
not be publicly testimonialized. Dr. Bell is
Blackburn’s senior by several years, and is en
tirely a self-made man. While he stitched away
on the tailor's bench in Lexington years ago,
Blackburn was receiving his education as a fa
vorite of fortnne and a representative of Kentuc
ky’s proudest aristocraoy. They meet to day
npon common ground—Bell, with his massive
intellect, an integrity of purpose pure as truth
itself, and the fruit of long years cf patient,
earnest study; Blackburn, with his record of
professional success and practical humanitari-
an is a/, the tender love of his kind that led him
through the swampy bottom lands around H ck-
man to bathe the feet and give help to the poor
est negro whose claim to it was that he suffered.
This has been his life-long practice, for which
he has received no more substantial reward than
the thanks and blessings of his fellow men. The
medical profession has certainly a right to a
proud pre-eminence, and a time like this is the
true test of the material of whioh it is made.
Of those weighed in the balance none have been
found wanting, bat have given freely the last
and greatest of gifts— their lives.
When a savage people are to be civilized, Eng
land fits out a ship with a big box of bibles and
a bold fall of ram, and gets the first footing;
when a country is to be opened to commerce,
she sends a little trading party ahead and follows
them close with a gunboat, giving the natives
the cheerful privilege of paying their money
and taking their choice.
Taschir-Now what is the meaning of the
word chasm? Pupil—It is an opening. Teacher
—Favor me with an example. Pupil—The mil
liners have a chasm at the beginning of the
season.
Love is an eternal transport!’ exclaimed an
enthusiastic poet. ‘ So is a canal boat,’ said a
old practical forwarding merchant.
A new way of measuring liquid: * Ten swal
lows make one drink, tea drinks make one
drank, ten dranks make one jiin-jam.’
Winnepeo, Nov. 10.—A Battleford (Northwest
Territory) dispatch says: Reliable couriers from
the plains report an outbreak of war between the
Assineboines and Sioux. Eight of the latter
were killed. The Assineboines also stole horses
from the Blackfeet and killed a Blaokfoct chief!