Newspaper Page Text
THE OLD STORY.
He came across the meadow pass
That summer eve of eves;
The sunlight streamed along the gr*M
And glanced amid the leaves;
And from the shrubbery below,
And from the garden trees,
He heard the thrush's music flow
And bumming of the bee*.
The garden gate was swung apart,
The space was brief between,
But there, for throbbing of his heart,
He panaed perforce to lean.
He loan'd upon the garden gate;
He look’d, and scarce he breathed;
Within the little porch she aate,
With woodbine overwreathed.
Her eyes upon her work were beat,
Unconscious who was nigh;
But oft the needle slowly went,
And oft did idle lie.
And ever to her lips arose
Sweet fragments faintly sung;
But ever ere the notes could close
She hushed theorem her tongue.
Oh ! beauty of my heart, he said,
Oh I darling, darling mine,
Was ever light of evening shed
On loveliness like thine ?
Why should I ever leave this spot?
But gaze until I die !
A moment from that bursting thought
She felt his footsteps nigh.
One sudden lifted glance—but one—
A tremor and a start;
So gently was thejr greeting done,
That who would guess their heart?
Long, long, the sun had sunken down,
And all his golden trail
Had died away to hues of brown
In duskier hues that fail.
The grasshopper was chirping shrill—
No other living sound
Accompanied the tiny rill
That gurgled underground;
No other living sound unless
Some spirit bent to hear
Low words of human tenderness
And mingling whispers hear.
—Irish Song.
MltS. CLIFFORD’S MISTAKE.
[From Arthur’* Homo Magazine.] \
“Oh, dear 1”
It was a sigh of weariness, and poor,
tired Mrs. Clifford sank for a moment
Into a luxurious easy-oliair. Perhaps I
should not say “poor.” Her hus¬
band was called by his friends “com¬
fortably well off.” Tired, she certainly
was. From dawn till dark her feet must
be in every place, her hands must toil
and toil that there be no creak nor jar
in the household machinery. Kitohen
girls she had tried, but they .^nly
brought extra oare, she said, and she
was glad to be independent. To-day
had been unusually busy and the parlor
had been left undusted till afternoon.
That was why she* happened in while
her daughter’s city friends were there.
Of course she had hastily retreated.
Close by the door stood that inviting
chair, and for once Mrs. Clifford yielded
to her longing for rest. She could hear
the gay voices in the other room, but
took no notioe of them till Izzie ex¬
claimed, lightly:
“Oh, that was only the woman who
works for us. She did not know any
one was here. What were you saying
about the bride, Madge ?”
And then the talk flowed on as before,
broken now and then by a ripple of
laughter. Mrs. Clifford heard no more.
She forgot her pain and weariness; she
forgot the pile of sewing awaiting her
in another room. Like a flash her mind
traveled back nearly a score of years.
Izzie ami Beba were babiea again, and
■he waa a proud young mother. Her
husband’s means were limited, but they
must wear the finest embroideries, and
by denying herself every luxury and
many comforts ane could keep them
clothed as 'alio wished. They were early
given the nicest tid-bitaatthe table, and
what wonder if they soon looked upon
mother’s share of good things as their
own? They ware pretty children, and
M they grew older she prided herself
upon keeping them daintily dressed.
To be sure, this involved sacrifice on
her part. Bhe had loved book*, but It
took so much time to read these must
bt given up “for the children’*
She must sit up late nights to sew; she
must wear her cloak the third wintei
and have her best dress made over orce
more, in order that Izzie might hav«
that charming hat with plumes or Reb«
the bead trimming she so much desired,
Did they help about the work ? Oh !
no. At first she could not bear to have
them soiling their clothes in the kitohen,
besides hindering her. Later, they were
too busy with studies or practice or some
fx 1
By the time they reached young girl¬
hood, her husband’s income warranted
the best teachers, and they, being quick
and bright, did credit to their instruc¬
tors. His income also warranted her
many hour? of leisure; but alas 1 so long
had she lived “for the children” that it
seemed impossible to make any change.
Nobody could do up the muslins or pre¬
pare food like mother.
Her husband had long since ceased to
look to her for intellectual companion¬
ship. It was the girls, with whom he
talked science and politics. When he
wanted music they played and sang. If
ho went to a lecture or a concert they
accompanied him. Her own mission
seemed fulfilled in a well-cooked meal
or nicely ironed shirt.
What a mistake she had made 1 It
rushed upon her now, as she sank back
into the easy-chair with those words
ringing all sorts of changes over and over
in her ears: “The woman who works
for us! the woman who works for us 1“
But the callers must have gone. The
outer door has opened and shut, and
hark 1 ihe girls are talking again. It is
Reba’s voice:
“Oh, Izzie ! how could you ?”
“I know it was perfectly awful, but
what could I do ? If mother would only
dress decently and get used to society,
we should not have to be ashamed of her
when any one eoiies. It’s all her own
fault.” j
Ashamed of heir J The children who
had cost her so many wakeful nights*^
many anxious Clifford thongiyts, api-i mechanically ashamed of lies!
Mrs. and
went to her room/ There she did some¬
thing very unusual for her. She spent
at least five minutes gazing at her own
reflection in the glass. Not a prepossess¬
ing figure, certainly. Her dress, a plain
calico, guiltless of even a collar; her
hair combed straight back, twisted, in
the smallest possible knot at the back of
her head, and the face—could that be
the face that had once been called beau¬
tiful ? No wonder the woman heaved a
sigh, as she saw how faded and wrinkled
it had become.
% As she gazed a resolute look came into
tlie-graj “Ashamed eyes. qI and fault
me, my ctwn 1
They shall"hever have occasion to say
that again.”
A quick knock sounded at her door.
“Oh, mother 1 Miss Tebbits has sent
home my polonaise, and the trimming
is all wrong. Won’t you change it to
night ? I must have it tb wear to Mattie
Dyer’s to morrow, you know,”
Mrs. Clifford dared not trust herself
to face the girl.
“You will have time to change it your
self, Reba. I am going to the lecture,
and some one must remain at home. ”
There was a moment of amazed
silenoe, then retreating footsteps. After
ward she heard Reba’s surprised, “What
do you think will happen next?
Mother’s going to the lecture !”
^ . Clifford, , when he came home, .
was uo ' ess surprised than his daughters
bad been, but there was a pleased look
on hiB face it did her good to see.
Still, her heart almost failed her when
»be came *o review her scanty wardrobe.
The blaok silk was still good, tliongh a
little oW-fashioued. But her bonnet
ftU<i gl° ye * oloak ! No, *h€
could not mortify her husband by wear
tog them. She must stay at home.
A rustle outside of her door, a tap,
and the two girls fluttered in.
“Now, mother, we are just going k
fix you ourselves. Hit right down and
let me arrange your hair while Issii
that dark plnme on her bonnet in
place of the bright one. My .cashmere
shawl is exactly what you want, and
her gloves will tit you to a T. How the
girls will open their eyes when they see
what a handsome mother we’ve got
And Mrs. Clifford could scarcely keep
** r“l r Z' f l7 Thev C h“n
nn" 1
sxzf - s
■•Ton look just as yon did twenty
years ago, /rib Mary. I’m so glad to have
my little back again.”
I need not add that the evening was a
thoroughly enjoyable one.
Next morning there was a' council oi
three in the back parior. Mrs. Clifford
stated that she must have more time for
and mental improvement. She
could hire help, but it would be better
for all concerned for Izzie and Beta to
learn something of housekeeping.
Izzie held up her fair white hands and
asked how they would look playing the
piano, covered with scars and potato
stains. Beba didn’t see how they could
possibly find time, they had so much to
do °Mrs. already. Clifford
stood firm, and the conn
cil ended in the kitchen with the two
girls washing the breakfast dishes.
During the next few weeks there were
some merry times in that kitchen, but
more trying ones. Beba would be
elated beyond measure over a well
browned loaf of bread, while Izzie was in
despair over a well-browned shirt
bosom. Izzie displayed with
pride the shining silver her hands
had polished, while Reba hid the shin¬
ing napkins o^r which she had upset
the gravy boat. Such is the inconsis¬
tency of kitchen perfection. fdlfc^g V\.
More than ouefe the mother
abandoning her plans. It would be so
much easier to do it all herself. Rut
she 3 possessed the gift of perseveran„ 9,
and after awhile the household machin¬
ery moved on as smoothly as ever, and
much more easily now that there were
six hands instead of two to turn the
wheels. Parlor company no longer
wondered where the mother was, and
the daughters grew more delighted every
day with her whose acquaintance they
were just forming.
One day Mrs. Clifford had a sick
headache. Three months before she
could not have afforded the luxury of a
sick day. Now she could dismiss all
care—for a season at/Least. I will not
say she did not feel some anxiety when
she learned at nocn that her husband had
brought a “business friend from the
West” home to dinner. But everything
went on as well as if she had presided.
The girls had been as apt pupils in the
kitchen as at the school.
Mr. Taft, the business friend, was a
vonng man. He was cultured and
wealthy, but he had some very old
f !(S hioned notions about young women
homg uulit to preside over homes of
their own before learning something of
housework. He enjoyed Izzie’s sing
in g and prkised her painting, but he
afterward declared it was her cookinR
that first attracted him. At any rate,
business obliged him to visit Carlisle
very frequently after that, and at last
Iz2ie b „ ck l0 be u, e qnee n
Western home
Reba Btm Utcs witb het p9r ents. She
> n0 one oan persuade her to leave
e ar father and mother. Eumor
"P u paraonnge wllI
'rejoices However that may
^Irs. (Jtiflord that she dis
’ rectify it
‘ 1 , her mistake in time to
7 homu , tg
lU 1 c *
JuLIA A Tibrell.
£iU™ ------. "SlueoTN. . T..«: ■ Gently, „ 01f)
f t H
an( | f oun( j ou iy 29 C29 with copies of the
Bible. Ho sold copies aud give
sway 107.
Disadvantage cf Being: a Titan,
^ • g p ^ g^iHftber (“Mrs. Parting
relate the following in one of his
lettera to the Hartford Post:
<<Am ^ masg of commodities cut
meefc ]ar necessity I saw it
thftt & weJ1 . known tailor was pre .
to make a like saerifico with re
£ ssJsrsK
» % srvisss r,
ited means who needed some good
clothes, and I followed the advertise
meat, in the capacity of patron to very
eened by the gentlemanly * w “ 00 f Buckram, a! ’- T re *
6how!1 measured «f and be f booked If** “ for u “ the store suit ’. by
the next Saturday Upon going to re¬
«"• my hnery I was tola runt the
maker had disappointed them and asked
delay Ml the following Saturday which
t B™nted. The next Saturday I deemed
b <*« b « “>"“■ au “
'“‘“tly * my clothes. Buckram
™ con used bn told me a story ot now
faculties he hadI been called to enconter,
“d again begge my m 11 gene.-. - g
lively patted him on the back with a
-othing intimation that he needn't cry
bout it, and let it go for another week,
Phis time I called and was simply told
they were think not they done. ever ‘Well, will be? said, I, He 3 do
you ‘Do in
frankly told me‘No.’ you not
tend to do as you advertise, and make a
suit for $28?’ ‘Not fora mastodon,
was his lofty reply, and I turned away
sorrowing, for I weighed 185. And he
is to-day suiting the times.”
Floating Homes.
“As we approach Canton,” writes a
Chinese correspondent of the Home
Journal, “one of the strangest sights ol
this strange land is the vas^ wilderness
of boats which serve as the only homes
of a floating population of more than one
hundred thousand human beings. As
our steamer made its way slowly through,
the city of boats to her wharf, it seemed
as if half of Canton was afloat on the
water. All around us were acres on acres
—yes, square miles—of junks, moored
in blocks and squares, with long streets
or canals between them; while darting
hither and thither were hundreds on
hundreds of others carrying passengers
or freight. These boats are of various
sizes and shapes, and are partly covered
with bamboo matting, the one or two
apartments furnishing space for parlor,
kitchen, dining-room, bedroom, wood¬
shed, barn, and idol-shrine. There mul¬
titudes of men and women, parents and
children, grandparents and babies, find
a home, each boat often sheltering more
souls than Noah had in his ark. There
thousands are born, grow up, grow old *
and die, seldom being on land until car¬
ried there for burial. Many of these,
boats are manned by women and girls,
whose large, unbound feet prove that
they are not ‘Chinese ladies;’ and yet
^ e y have learned to ‘paddle their own
canoe.’ Babies are fastened to the deck,
by strings; and other children wear life
preservers of gourds or bamboo to keep
them from sinking, if they fall over¬
board, though the parents don’t seem to
grieve much if one does get drowned.
There are larger and more gayly decor¬
ated junks called ‘flower-boats,’ used as
floating pleasure-houses of no good rep¬
utation. A few years ago a typhoon
swamped thousands of these small craft,,
and hundreds of the inmates were
drowned.”
A gentleman who visited a rober
skating rink and attempted to partici*
* >ate iu the P leiwm res, says the idea of
fastening a pair of skates on the feet is
tho ( l neere8t Dotion ia th * worI<1 » be "
cause the feet were the only portidu ol
his anatomy that didn t touch the tlooi
oftener than one Inning iu teu.