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THE SUNNY SOUTH, ATLANTA, GEORGIA, NOVEMBER 26, 1892.
i
Soeiety.
BEAUTIFUL GEORGIANS.
Miss Marion Dunbar,
Some Striking Portraits and Sketches
of Social Favorites in Georgia.
Jn portraying the South and its peo
ple, our paper is desirous of giving some
space and attention to a feature, not the
least notable and attractive, of this sec
tion, the beauty and charm of our
Southern women. With this view the
Sunny South, some time since, pre
sented to its readers a number of pict-
ur s with the accompanying sketches j
of lovely young women from Tennessee,
but was prevented by circumstances
from continuing the series just at that
time.
With this issue the same undertaking
is resumed, with the exception that
from time to time, by the presentation
in handsome and appropriate form of a
select few from each State, we may add j
link after link to the chain of camoes,
which shall finally constitute itself into
a complete collection of representative
Southern beauties.
is a young woman towards whom old
Dame Fortune ;has been most prodigal
in bestowal of her largess. She is
the daughter of the late Mr. Barney
S. Dunbar, who was for years a
prominent cotton merchant in Au
gusta, and left a family of several sons
and daughters, who are, each and every 7
one, conspicuously handsome. Miss
Dunbar has had every advantage which
wealth or position could procure for or
bestow upon her, and is, in every way, a
charmingly cultivated girl. She is pos
sessed of a notably graceful bearing and
carries herself with an erectness and
dash, which is rare among Southern
girls. Her costuming is always remark
ed upon, as it is characterized by T a deal
of chic and originality, and serves to
make her beauty 7 the more noticeable.
For, beside many other good gifts, this
young woman is possessed of an unusual
share of personal beauty. She is ex
ceedingly fair, with a skin of exquisite
transparency; lovely blue eyes, with a
rarely winning expression, and bright
brow n hair, all glintling here and there
with shifting gold. Her features are
perfectly 7 regular and as clearly cut as
the face on a Roman coin. In manner
Miss Dunbar is invariably cordial, with
sweet courtesy to all, which can only
emanate from native gentleness of birth,
and, that best of all attributes, a truly
k'ndly heart. Since her debut she has
been much sought after in society, at
home and elsewhere, and is always
wherever she may appear, the object of
universal admiration.
A Warning.
Miss Kffie Pope, of Washington,
is a litting representative of this lovely
old town, where, for generation after
generation, has blossomed forth the very
■cream of Southern chivalry ; where men
as brave and brilliant as they were good ; dressmaker begs you to let her make you
to look upon and women whose rarely one, as she is sure they will be “awfully
Fashion has for so long devoted herself
exclusively to devising and decreeing
styles which suit the thin woman, that
the latter person is no longer on the
lookout for a departure from this rule,
and hence may strike a snag unawares.
For the benefit of the tall, slender girl,
then, let me say, Avoid the Empire gown.
Its loose outlines and breadth of waist
will deceive you and you will smile in
wardly with a complacent prevision of
how sweet you will look, w 7 hen your
perfect beauty scarcely outshone their
wit have seemed the rule rather than
ithe exception.
Miss Pope is the daughter of Mr. and
Mrs. William Pope and is, on either side
of her family, the daughter of a noble
race, her ancestors having for years dis
tinguished themselves in the various
professions as well as in the political
councils of the State. Added to this,
both men and women have for genera
tions been notably handsome people,
and Miss Pope is assuredly their worthy
descendant. Tall, with a figure made up
of exquisitely rounded outlines and a
■queenly carriage, she is indeed a woman
who would be many times regarded in
any assemblage.
Her coloring is unusual; a skin clear
and white as a privet-blossom, with
dark hair and clear tracery of dark brow s
and long dark lashes w hich half veil a
pair of wonderful eyes, clear, soft grey
eyes, deep and lustrous.
Join to this a classic outline of feature
and much grace of manner, and you have
a pen-sketch of a young woman w 7 ho has,
since her debut, been much feted and
sought after in society throughout Geor
gia.
Miss Katherine Rutherford,
is a girl who, by the strength of her indi
viduality, and the force of her personal
magnetism, draw 7 s to her not only num
berless admirers, but, w hat is far more
unusual, sincere and ardent friends by
the score.
becoming.” Be not deceived. Heed not
the voice of the charmer, charm she
never so wisely. Those slimpsy skirts
are awfully revealing and you will be
astounded to discover how long you are j
from under your arms to your heels,
when you see the whole length stretched I
out in one long piece of goods.
I saw an awfully cunning thing the
other day. A girl I know who is exces
sively.formal, and oppressively rich and
not over young, was walking (she doesn’t
often walk) along a certain street, mov-1
ing with a stiffness and deliberation,
which plainly signified to the poor 1
earth- her condescension in stepping
ever so gingerly upon it. Just at that
moment an electric car stopped at the j
corner, and another girl, quite a young
thing, with a face as fresh as an April
morning and lots of golden hair, jumped i
off. |
You could see she w 7 as ever so anx
ious to do an errand in the next block
and catch the next car home, perhaps,
for she walked swiftly, and just as she
passed girl No. 1, with a gay nod of the
head, she broke into the very prettiest
little run you ever saw. She has tin} 7 j
feet and they fairly danced in and out,
while from under her cloth gown, which
she raised with one hand, flashed and
fluttered the most bewilderingly frou
frou of soft ruffles of cream and pink
and blue, which never could have looked
half so pretty in repose, as they did fol-
Her nature is one of so much genuine j lowing every movement of their little
depth, so much unaffected directness owner’s light figure as she flew 7 along
that one can but feel at once, in her oyer the pavement. She made good
presence, that sense of joy-and gratula- ^ ime ^°°> I don t believe she breath-
tion with which the true‘and beautiful i ?d hard, either when she reached her
and good, within us all, leaps out to J destination.
meet and to embrace the like soul in Now I have heard this very same
another. girl lament over her excessive youth-
Closelv allied, as she is to many of the fulness, and w 7 ish ardently for a more
most distinguished persons, both in the afQ?rl w ' Wf
past and present history of our .State,
Miss Rutherford has had all the pres
tige which family and birth could con
fer to abet her own attractiveness.
She is the daughter of Captain John
O. Rutherford of Athens, and has spent
her life there, having received her edu
cation partly at Lucy Cobb and partly in
Washington City.
Personally, Miss Rutherford is ex
ceedingly pretty and attractive. She is
quite tall, with a petite, graceful figure,
staid deportment, but don’t you know,
as that stiff girl looked after the flying
Atalanta, she would have given a pretty
sum to have been able to do anything
as graceful and easy and natural ?
Don’t disparage youth, girls.
Each age has its own charms, but re
member that those of youth are the only
ones which cannot be counterfeited.
Oscar Wilde, in his uniquely clever
ab8urditv called “Intentions,” devotes
one-fourth of the book to an ingenious
and an unusal charm of manner. Her plaint entitled “The Decay of Lying,
style is pronouncedly blonde with quan- Why Mr. Wilde should, with such appar-
tities of fair hair, large blue eyes and a ent depth of feeling, repine at the deca-
flawless complexion. dence of this highly ornamental art while
Added to much beauty of person, Miss he himself, in the flower of his shame-
Kutherford possesses rare mental ability j lessness, remains to lead the cult of
and is equally gifted in conversation conscientious liars, is past finding out.
and with the pen, her chosen circle of i But, such being the case, the aocompa-
intimates being often regaled with some nying clipping is humbly proffered for
clever effusion, all of which she has so | his notice, with a view to the assuage-
far refused to allow to appear in print.
With so much that is w inning and de
lightful it is small w 7 onder that, since
her debut, this young Athenian has had
a most charming time socially in her
own home, as well as wherever she has j lar habit of Thieving.
visited. I If introduced into polite society and
ment of his woe. It is, we sincerely be
lieve, at least worth his respectful con
sideration, for does it not seem to afford
a fruitful suggestion as to the undreamed
of possibilities of the hitherto less popu-
expounded with chaste obscurity by Mr.
Wilde, might not theft supersede in pop
ular favor the art of Lying, and prove
an equally affording and perhaps even
more picturesque peccadillo?
“The latest plaint of Mesdames Plutus
and Croesus that many of their “swell”
guests will steal—that they have found
it necessary to anchor their bric-a-brac
with chains, presumably golden, and to
retire from the service of the dressing
rooms all silver-backed brushes and cut
glass toilet ware—shows that touch of
nature which makes Murray Hill kin to
Darkest Africa, the slums of New York
and human nature everywhere. The
j ‘itching palm’ is both gloved and un
gloved, and every religious code warns
its followers to let their neighbors’ goods
alone. But stealing, provided it be done
de rigeur, is greatly the vogue and much
admired.
A young woman now, with a shifty
talent for collecting, could, the seasons
she was “out,” gather enough material
for her cupboard’s plenishing against
the time of her marriage.”
And so forth and so on, with divers
other practical suggestions as to details
and technicalities w T hich we hesitate to
quote, lest while offering Mr. Wilde a
free field for exposition and elaboration,
we might seem guilty of a desire to
; “steal his thunder.”
Look to it, Oscar!
Carnival Reflections.
When w 7 as it that we used to believe
in that trite old truism, false as all tru
isms are apt to be that “Christmas
comes but once a year?”
Certainly now 7 , in Atlanta, atanv rate,
nous avons change, tout cela.
Nobody, who was doomed to locomo
tion, on Whitehall street, during the
past week, could doubt for a moment
that Christmas, grown weary, perhaps
of the methodical habit of years, had
taken to appearing, in duplicate, in No
vember.
The dense throng of people jostled
each other, in and out, with that mad
intensity with which Christmas shop
pers always jam and pull; the air was
sharp and cold enough to make the
YOUTH AND AGE.
Miss Marion Dunbar,
of Augusta,
many horses, by the pavements, rear
and plunge and back their several vehi
cle, each upon the other, with true Yule-
tide excitation; drums beat here and
there, fire-crackers popped like little red
devils, glad of an excuse to burst and
do some harm, and the voice of the tin
horn was heard in the land. All the
signs of the times pointed towards
Christmas, or rather, perhaps, it w r as a
composite season, a time of jubilation
in which were merged the spirit and to
kens of all other days of rejoicing. A
thousand things spoke of Christmas;
the torch-light procession of Tuesday
night represented a nation’s rejoicing
which is the spirit of the glorious
Fourth; in the happy face of every
creature one might read the birth of the
New Year, w r hich has dawned upon our
dear old country, an era of peace and
prosperity for our Southland and of.
right and justice for the whole Union;
the carnival splendors were to cele
brate—well, perhaps Atlanta’s own
birthday and shall we take the large
contingent of citizens on “jags,” the
breakers of plate-glass window's and the
jammers in of other people’s hats as the
fitting representatives of All-Fools Day?
Finally, does not all the stir and
noise and commotion find its utmost and
full expression in the blessed season,
which is now upon us—Thanksgiving?
If it means this, surely the noise and
din, the crowd and confusion, even (per
haps this seems a little excessive,) the
fire-crackers and tin horns are not one
whit too blatant or vociferous !
When all the world is young, lad,
When all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad.
And every Jass a queen:
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And around the world away.
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.
When all the world is old, lad.
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down;
Creep home and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among.
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.
Charles Kingsley.
TO THE MODERN GIRL.
“A man’s a man fora’ that.”—Burns.
What tho’ arrayed, fair renegade,
In tailor-made and a - that.
Close-fitting skirt of scanty girt.
In boil ed shirt and a’ that:
What tho’ you thus appear so trim.
So tall and slim and a’ that.
What’s mau that you should mimic him ?
A girl’s a girl for a’ that.
What tho, you wear full short the hair,
Assume the air and a’ that;
What tho’ in coat and vest and air
You ape the men and a ? that;
Wnat tho’ you try with Oxfor.i-tie,
With four-in hand and a’ that,
You’ll understand it by and by—
A girl’e a girl lor a’ that.
Suspenders, too, of vivid blue
Or other hue aud a’ ihat.
Immodest girl, you do not hide
But wear outside and a’ that,
You’re not to man inferior,
Of course you’re not and a’ that.
But dress is quite exterior—
A girl’s a girl for a’ that.
And would you smoke the cigarette?
And would you bet and a’ that?
And would you don the walking-stick,
Raise merry nick and a’ that?
And would you on your knees propose
To vulgar mau and a’ that
Why, an clever fellow knows
A girl’s a girl fora’ that.
You follow Fashion’s ups and downs
In hats and gown and a* that,
You’re wondrous fickle with your frowns
And smiles aud wiles and a’ that.
Yet. lucky lass, that owns the earth.
You naughty, haughty autocrat—
You pith o’ nonsense, pride o’ worth,
We love you more fora’ that.
— (Irving S. Underhill, in Quips.
Notes on Fashion.
[Written especially for Thankseiviug number of
iSunny South.]
New York, Nov. 19.—Last Sunday,
between the hours of twelve and half
past one it was a perfect day. I saun
tered up Fifth avenue to see the beauti
ful young girls, stylishly dressed misses
and extremely dignified matrons, ar
rayed in their smartest gowns, as you
know ladies always put on their best
for church. I was not disappoint
ed, for I witnessed a most interest
ing sight—a procession of feminine love
liness Some were dressed in the very
acme of elegance, while others were ex
cruciatingly gorgeous, some exceedingly
plain ; others were “fluffy and puffy” to
i the extreme. So varied and so numer
ous were the styles that I became very
much puzzled, and wondered which
would really be the proper thing to
speak of. However, I noticed several
; very swell coats, styles which I have
described before, with the graceful
watteau pleat and triple capes. I also
noticed several very handsome velvet
jackets, with fur and lace trimmings,
the velvet a contrasting shade to the
dress material.
The most popular hat is the medium
sized black felt, trimmed directly in
: front or side with Prince of Wales
feathers, six to eight inches high. The
large bow effect is made of jet spray.
The Felix, Dunmere and Watteau
skirts have superseded the umbrella
and bell skirts. They are very graceful.
The front is plain, with sloping back,
but instead of the bias back it has a bias
seam and large gusset set in the side.
The empire skirt is rounder and has more
fullness than either of the preceding
skirts. The Watteau has the plain
front, with box pleat in the back.
A very plain but extremely stylish
costume was a myrtle green cloth, a per
fectly plain skirt lined with silk, finished
around the bottom with mink tails. The
short waist had a deep rounded yoke
and high collar of light blue chamois
skin, edged with tails, large full sleeves
with chamois cuffs, and with this she
wore a long cloth coat of a light mauve
and a dear little hat, a combination of
fur and chamois, with a stiff trimming
at the side.
I notice all New York ladies wear the
common sense shoes, fiat heels, long
vamp, either with cloth or kid upper, for
walking purposes; but the evening shoes
are perfect gems in every conceivable
shade, with dainty little bows and
buckles, and they match them perfectly
to every costume.
Jeweled dagger hairpins and Russian
belts are now very fashionable.
The Columbian and purple veiling are
the newest fads.
Among the prettiest novelties of this
season is the dagger for the hair, which
is the latest touch to the empire style of
wearing the hair in the high Josephine
knot. The prettiest one is of a dull gold
filigree, studded with small stones of
many sorts. The effect is charming in
open gold work of antique design. An
other style is a long, narrow iris leaf,
slightly twisted, made of gold and of sil
ver, enameled in colors and often set
with translucent enamel.
There are some very pretty affairs
being displayed in the shops, which
look like little harnesses of ribbons, and
really give a great finish to simple cos
tumes. There is a center whalebone
covered with ribbon, to which five rib
bons an inch wide are fastened with a
small rosette. These ribbons similate
a Swiss belt in shape. The five ribbons
are drawn through a buckle at the side
and fastened at the back with a bow and
ends.
Naivete.
A girl I know, whose manners and
customs are more noted for their rapid
ity than propriety, was asked by a
highly punctilious and severely conven
tional dame, how she had taken leave
of a recently acquired flame, who had
just departed.
“Oh,” she replied, with a sigh, “I just
said, ‘good-bye, Bob. God bless you 1’ ”
“Bob!” shrieked the prophetess of
propriety, raising her hands in horror.
“Why, yes,” turning her calm eyes with
angelic sweetness upon her interlocu
tor, “didn’t you know his name was
Robert?”
TABLEAU.
Wasn’t it clever of her never to per
mit the old lady to doubt that the whole
point of the interrogation lay for her in
the chance of its having been Richard
or Thomas ?
Forbidden Fruit.
From the Chicago Inter-Ocean.
“Do away, Dod ; do away! Don’t
bodder me now,” a small boy was
overheard saying, as he besieged an
apple tree.
And then he threw another stick.
That one failed to bringdown an apple.
As he raised his hand and took aim
again he said:
“Do away, I say ! Tan’t ’oo wait a
minute? His mother called him to
her and said :
“Baby, to whom were you talking?”
“Dod,” he replied in the most mat
ter-of-fact tone.
“God ” said the shocked mother.
“Why, my child, where was He?”
“He was whispering to me.”
“What did He say ?”
“He said ‘Baby ! baby ! don’t frow
stones; ’oo will hit the poor little
birdies.
The mother had nothing to say.
Faith and conscience were taking care
of the little soul, and teaching their
lessons better than it was possible for
her to do.
BIG TIDAL WAVE.
It Looked Like Gold, and Was at
Least Fifty Feet High.
“I had a strange experience at sea in
the summer of 1884,” said Capt. R. C.
Macau ley, for some years past com
mander of a Cunard steamer. “I was
at that time in command of the Comet,
plying between Liverpool and Havana.
We were three days out from Liver
pool, and were plowing through a sea
that was as smooth as a billiard table.
There was not a breeze stirring, and the
weather was terribly hot.
“Just at sundown the second officer
called my attention to a curious ridge
on the western horizon, into which the
sun seemed to be dipping. I turned my
glass on it and it resembled a mighty
bank of gold, extending north and
south as far as the eye could reach. ‘It’s
a cloud,’ said I. ‘I’ll be d d if it is,’
replied the officer emphatically; ‘it’s
water.’ I looked at him and saw that
Miss Katherine Rutherford,
of Athens.
he was pale as a sheet. I again brought
my glass to bear on the curious phe
nomenon. The bank appeared nearer
and higher, the upper edge of the sun
being just visible above it. The top of
the bank was of a reddish yellow, while
the base had changed to a dark green.
‘By the Lord !’ I exclaimed, ‘it is wa
ter! It is a tidal wave ” and so it was.
“It came rolling toward us at a ter
rific rate of speed. I put the prow of
the ship squarely to it and had the
hatches battened down. I did not
think it possible that we could ride over
it. My only hope was to plow through
it. I was about to signal the engineer
to put on all steam, when the second
officer begged me to back ship. I yield
ed. The engines were reversed, and by
the time the w 7 ave reached us we were
moving slowly backward. The wave
was not so perpendicular as I at first
supposed. The ship was in ballast, and
rode over it like a feather. It looked
to me at least fifty feet high, and went
rolling away to the northeast with a
dull, rushing sound, similar to Ni
agara.”
The Russian and Persian belts are
really works of art and perfect copies of
rare pieces of goldsmiths’ work, from
specimens in collections. The buckles
and bands are such curious shapes ami
colors.