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The Talk of Men and Women.
To t wo classes we pay court:
womeu and the aged. But the superi
ority of women is perpetually men
aced; they do not sit throned on in
firmities like the old ; they are suitors
as well as sovereigns; their vanity is
engaged, their affections are too apt to
follow; and hence much of the talk
between the sexes degenerates Into
something unworthy of the name.
The desire to please, to shine with a
particular engaging lustre, to draw a
fascinating picture of oneself, banishes
from conversation all that is sterling
and most of what is humorous. As
soon as a strong current of mutual
admiration begins to flow, the human
interest triumphs entirely over the
intellectual, and the commerce o 1
words, consciously or not, becomes
secondary to the commercing of eyes.
Each simply waits upon the other to
be admired, and the talk dwindles
Into platitudinous piping. Coquetry
and fatuity are thus the knell of talk.
But even where this ridiculous danger
is avoided, and a man and woman
converse equally and honestly, some
thing in their nature or their educa
tion falsifies the strain. An instinct
prompts them to agree; and where
that is impossible, to agree to differ,
Bhould they neglect the warning, at
the first suspicion of an argument
they find themoelves in different
hemispheres. About any point ol
business or conduct, any actual affair
demanding settlement, a woman will
r ak and listen, hear and answer
arguments, not only with natural
wisdom, but with candor and logical
honesty. But if the subject of debate
be something in the air, an abstrac
tion, an excuse for talk, a logical Aunt
Sally, then may the male debater
instantly abandon hope; he may em
ploy reason, adduce facts, be supple,
be smiling, be angry, all shall avail
him nothing ; what the woman said
first, that (unless she has forgotten it)
she will repeat at the end. Hence, at
the very junctures when a talk be-
between men grows brighter and
quicker and begins to promise to bear
fruit, talk between tbe sexes is
menaced with dissolution. The point
of difference, the point of interest, is
evaded by the brilliant woman, under
a shower of irrevelant conversational
rockets; it is bridged by the discreet
woman with a rustle of silk, as she
passes smoothly forward to the nearest
point of safety. It cannot be dis
cussed in its natural connection. It
may be returned upon after a circuit;
and if propounded as a problem, with
neither party committed to a side, it
may then be gently, lightly, but, in
the end, thoroughly treated. This
Bort of prestidigitation, juggling the
dangerous topic out of sight until it
can be reintroduced with safety in an
altered shape, is a piece of tactics
among the true drawing-room queens
The drawing-room is, indeed, an
artificial place; it is so by our choice
and/or our sins; the subjection of
women, the ideal imposed upon them
from the cradle and worn, like a hair-
shirt, with so much constancy ; their
motherly, superior tenderness to man’s
vanity and self-importance, their
managing arts—the arts of a civilized
slave among good-natured barbarians
—all are painful ingredients, and all
help to falsify relat >ns. It is not till
we get clear of that amusing, artificial
scene that genuine relations are
founded, or ideas honesty compared.
In the gardeu, on the road or the hill
side, or tete a-tete and apart from in
terruptions, occasions arise when we
may learn much from any single
woman; and nowhere more often
than in married life. Marriage is one
long conversation, checkered by dis-
utes. The disputes are simply value
less; they but ingra’n the difference;
the heroic heart of woman prompts
her at once to nail her colors to the
mast. But in the intervals, almost
unconsciously, with no disire to shine,
the whole material of life is turned
over and over, ideas are struck out
and shared, the two persons more and
more adaut their notions one to suit
the other, and in the process of time,
without sound of trumpet, they con
duct each other into new worlds of
thought
A Year Without a Summer.
The “>ear without a summer” was
1816. Cittle were killed by freezing
weather in June that year in tbe New
Englaud and Middle States. In
Maine and Vermont the snow was ten
inches deep. July was wintry and
icy. August wus the same, but in
September it was a little warmer, and
then came bitter cold weathfd until
e eud of the year. The next year
a fine productive season.
Cheap Places to Live in.
In the richest German household
the mistress superintends the kitchen
and lends a hand to the cook. There
are certain dishes which she always
makes with her own hauds, bt cause her
Friiz likes them so. She may boast
thirty-two qnarterings on her escutch
eon aud be terribly proud of her line
age, but she has no nonsensical ideas
about its being degrading to put on a
canvas apron, lard a piece of veal,
make jams, or dole out with her own
hands the prunes that are to be put
into the potato stew. She keeps her
best attire for Sundays, and makes it
serve on a good many of these festals
days, for she does not follow fashion
blindly or in a hurry. On ordinary
days, she dresses with a plainness
which would excite the contempt of a
French woman ; but then her culinary
pursuits do not prevent her from
being by far the intellectual superior
of her French or Belgian sister. She
reads serious books that she may be
able to converse as an equal with her
well-taught sons ; she practises music
that she may remain on a level with
her daughters who are trained to be
brilliant pianists; and she finds time
to read the newspaper in order that
she may understand what her Fritz
has to say about the topics of the day.
The example thus set in high life by
the “Frau Grafin” is copied in lower
spheres by the “Frau Doctorin’’ and
the “Frau Professorin.” These ladies
keep no cooks; they perform most of
the household labors with the assis
tance of a maid-of-all- work, and when
ever practicable they do all the wash
ing of the family linen at home, aud
make their own dresses. Withal they
are very hospitable in a homely way.
They delight in evening parties a*
which cafeau latt is served with cakes
aud sausage-3andwichea. A carpet
dance, a little singing and music,
round games and a good deal of frank
flirtation between the young people,
furnish the diversions at these enter
tainments. In the winter several
families club together to hire a large
room in which Dreistemache (literally
make-bold) assemblies are held once a
week. Each family brings a certain
quantum of the Refreshments, as at
old-fashioned picnics, aud dancing is
carried on within sensible hours, be
tween 7 and 11 p. m. The object of
these assemblies is to make young
people “bold” to disport themselves at
more ceremonious balls should they be
called upon to do so ; in fact, they are
unceremonious dancing parties at
which the guests appear in morning
attire and expect no costlier beverages
at supper than lemonade and beer.
The cheapest towns to go to in Ger
many are the capitals of small Duchies.
Berlin has become very dear. Dresden,
Leipzig, Stuttgart, Munich, are all
cheap in comparison with English
cities, and they offer first rate educa
tional advantages; but they will be
found more expensive on the whole
than such places as Brunswick, Cassel,
Dermstadt, Weimar and Coburg.
Taking Brunswick as a specimen of
these second-rate towns, it is a place
where a family can live in the utmost
ei joyment and dignity on a small in
come. It is an old fashioned town of
picturesque architecture; but the
streets are broad, and the houses large,
with spacious and lofty rooms, wide
oourtyards and grand staircases. Most
of these dwellings are let in flats, each
of which has its separate kitchen,
with its wooden balcony overlooking
the yard and a separate staircase for
servants. A ten-room flat furnished
can be had on a first floor in the best
quarter for about sixty pounds a year;
ou a second, for forty- flve pounds ; and
on a third, for thirty pounds; but pri
ces are lower in the old streets on the
outskirts of the olty. It is not the cus-
tum to let unfurnished, as almost all
the houses contain a stock of old-fash
ioned furniture dating from tie last
century, when the court of Brunswick
was one of the most brilliant in Ger
many, and when the oity was crowded
with wealthy residents. Ithasalltbe
appearance of a wealthy city still,
though the present Duke lives most of
the year in Italy, and does little to at
tract strangers to his handsome palace.
It has a university, a gymnasium, a
public school for boys, several private
schools, and a large aoademy for girls;
a museum, aud publio library, and a
noble theatre. The Duke chiefly helps
to support the theatre, and fir this
much deserves the thanks of his sub
jects. For many years the conductor
of the orchestra was Franz Abt, the
eminent composer, and at one time he
had the best quatuor of violinists in
Germany under his orders. Perfor
mances are given at the theatre four
times a week, operas being performed
on two nights, and plays on the other
two ; and the cost of a Speraits or staff is
only six thalers, or eighteen shillings
a month. All the ducal cities have
good theatres, as it is a point of honor
with the princeliugs who rule iu th< m
to show that they are enlightened pat
rons of music and the drama. The
theatre of Ccburg has a well deserved
renutation.
Tourists will not find German hot 1 Is
cheap, even in the small towns, for
landlords have got into the habit of
overcharging Englishmen, and noth
ing seems likely to cure them of it;
but the restaurations are very cheap.
A substantial dinner with beer can be
had for fifteen pence ; and in the brew
eries, which officers frequent, a good
supper, consisting of a plate of veal
cutlets with fried potatoes, or bacon
sausage and sauerkraut, c >sts but
sevenpence, a glass of beer included.
Schooling is as cheap as in Belgium,
and better, for the disposition of Ger
man youth is studious, aud the pro
fessors are stimulated by the assiduity
aud sharpness of their pupils. No
English boy educated at a German
school is likely to come home a dunce.
These are the advantages of Ger
many; but the country of course has
its drawbacks from the English point
of view, although these may be less
discernible to our countrymen who in
habit the Fatherland than to their
friends at home who notice their
peculiarities when they have returned
from it. German schooling tends to
convert an English boy into a very
unpleasant species of young prig, con
ceited and pragmatical; while it
makes a girl tame aud dreamy. The
dreamy propensities of German mai
denhood are counteracted by the hard
labor they perform among the dish-
clouts and saucepans of the paternal
kitchen ; but as English girls seldom
take kindly to culinary tasks, the sen
timentalism they acquire at German
schools has no checks. Add to this,
that German ladies have no taste in
dress and set sad examples of dowdi-
ness to the girls who live among them.
It would be agreeable to be able to say
that the German matron, when she
has helped to dish up the family din
ner, sits down cool and smart, with
her hair neatly dressed, to do the
honors of her own table; but the truth
is, she sits down looking hot and un
tidy. She may talk finely about cul
ture, but her gewn is a very uncul
tured affair ; she may play exquisitely
on the piano, but it will be grief to
watch her coarse red hands moving
over the keys ; she may waltz to per
fection, but the sight of her large ill
sho 1 feet will be en >ugh to make a
sensitive man sit down in a corner
and sigh. The best corrective to a
girl’s education in Germany would be
a year’s finishing in France.
A Poet’s Last Words.
One of Heine’s friends, anxious for
his conversion, asked him shortly be
fore his death If he were at peace with
God. “Set your mind at rest,” an
swered Heine: “lebon Dieu me par-
donnera, e’est son metier.” “ Do you
believe m the existence of a Supreme
Being?” the same person asked on
another occasion. “ If a Supreme Be
ing, perfectly omnipotent and all-see- 0
ing, exists, do you think he will care
whether a wretched little mouse living
in the Rue d’Amsterdam believes in
Him or not?” “What good does it
do me,” he laments, “ that at banquets
my health is drunk out of golden gob
lets and in the bestof wine if I myself,
separated frem the joys of the world,-
can only wet my lips with an insipid
tisane f What good does It do me that
enthusiastic youths and damsels
crown my marble bust with laurels
when on my real head a blister is
being clapped behind my ears by an
old sick-nurse? What lists it to me
if all the roses of Shiraz glow and
smell for me so sweetly ? Alas! Shi-
nz is 2000 miles from the Rue d’Ams
terdam, where I get nothing to smell,
in the melancholy solitude of my sick
room, but the perfume of warm nap
kins.” “It is time,” he sing*, “to
bury the old, unhappy ditties, and all
the sad dreams, so fetch me a coffin
vast. It must be vaster than Heidel
berg’s vat, and longer than the bridge
over the Main. And then fetch a
dozen giants—they must be stronger
than St. Christopher, in the Cathedral
of Cologne, on the Rhine. They must
take up that coffin aud sink it deep in
the ocean wave, for suoh a mighty
c< ffin must be laid in a mighty grave.
Would you know why my coffin must
be so vast and stout and wide ? I shall
lay all my sorrows and love and (Ri-
guish there, side by side.”
The Grand Saeugerfest of the Ger
man Singing Societies of Northeastern
Pennsylvania opened in Scranton.
Poet’s Corner.
Wind of Summer.
Wind of Summer, as you fly
Poor me by,
Seas over awaiuderlng to and fro,
Gently blow!
For my lover sans the sea—
Pity me!
And pray you, if you near him go,
Gently blow!
Wind, fly swiftly as a dove
To my love;
But near him fly safe aud slow—
Gently blow!
And, when with him, whisper this,
With a kiss :
That I miss him—miss him so!
Gently blow 1
- MALCOLM NICHOLSON.
Ralph Waldo Emerson.
His soul was one with nature everywhere ;
Her seer and pr phet and Interpreter,
He waited In her courts lor love of her,
And taught the lessons that he gathered
there—
The songs the wild birds sang; why flowers
were fair;
The sense of that divine, tumultuous stir
When spring awakes, and all things minis
ter
To love; and hope and joy are In the air.
Do the winds uilss him, and the fields he
knew,
And the lar stars that watched him night
by night,
Looking from out their steadfast dome of
blue
To lead him onward with their tranquil
light—
Or, do they know what gates he wandered
through,
What heavenly glory opened on bis sight 7
-LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON.
cion and jealousy. She is always in
the house, and therefore her mind is
apt to run in narrow grooves. The
prodigality and wastefulness of men
are things beyond her understanding
or patience. She is unversed in affairs,
and therefore comprehends nothing of
compromise. She is generally ill-edu
cated, and therefore is incapable of
forming a judgment; hence she is
carried away by every wind of doc
trine ; as, for instance, in matters ec
clesiastical, knowing noihl.ig of the
E trly Church or its history, she be
lieves the poor little Ritualist curate,
who knows, indeed, no more than her
self ; or in Art, where, for want of a
standard, she is led astray by every
fad and fashion of the day, and wor
ships sad faced flatnesses with rapture;
or in dress, where, her taste being un
cultivated, she puts on whatever is
most hideous and unbecoming, provid
ed it is worn by everybody else.
This is the woman whom Charles
Reade presents to us; she is not, at all
events, insipid ; no real women are ; if
she is artificial, she *hows the reaf
woman beneath. What he loves most
is the woman whom fashion has not
spoiled; the true, genuine woman,
with her natural passion, her jealousy,
her devotion, her love of admiration
her fidelity, her righteous wrath, her
maternal ferocity, her narrow faith,
her shrewdness, even her audacity of
falsehood when that can serve her per-
pose, and her perfect abnegation of
self.
Concurrent Testimony.
“Is It wrong to kiss?” asked a timid maid
Ol the shimmering sands that border the
deep.
But no answer she got save the wavelets
played •
A loundtlay gay as they kissed her feet.
She asked the sun, but he only turned
His saucy lace Irom the eastern sky,
And kissed her cheeks till they fairly burned,
And a tear of vexation dimmed her eye.
She asked the wind as it came Iron* the south
Tbeself-same question. The answer came
For a zephyr sprang up and kissed her
mouth
And ruby red lips till they seemed aflame.
She asked a youth who had chanced along,
And the moral question was solved in a
trice;
For he answered: “O, maiden, It may be
wrong,
But’’—here he proved it—“It's very nice 1“
If the sea and sun and soft south w ind
Kiss unmolested by bolt or ban
WUere the heart Is eagi r, and lips and mind
Are not reluctant, why shouldn’t man 7
Sub Luna,
Fair Moon, wnose orb of mellow light
Illumines all the land below
As Inez’ eyes make UarknesB bright
When they, two moons, do softly glow,
What does my love to-night 7
Ye golden beams thatlondly play
Her raven locks soft span among,
That fain would steal her smile away
To rival Sol In mid-sky hung.
How seems my love to-night 7
Twlxt her and me, thyself the key.
Thy beams an arching bridge shall form,
Naught but dear love shall pass from me,
Pray naught but thiB from her be borne.
What thinks my leve to night?
• •***•
Tbe darkness grows, thy brightness fades,
A mlsly veil thy f<oe enshrouds,
So, dls-m/^gloom my heart Invades,
. ts Intv hid by memory’s clouds,
Farewell, my love, tc-nlght.
Charles Reade’s True Woman.
Reade, in fact, invented the True
Woman. That is to say, he was the
first who found her. There have been
plenty of sweet and charming women
in stories—the patient, loving Amelia ;
the bouncing country girl, Sophy
Western ; the graceful and gracieuses
ladies of Scott; tha pretty dummies of
Dickens ; the insipid sweetnesses of
Thackeray; the proper middle-class
(or upper-alass) girl of Trollope; the
conventional girl of the better lady
novelists. There have also been disa
greeable girls, especially the bad style,
detestable girl of the “worser” lady
novelists ; but Reade—the trovvere—
has found the real woman. You will
meet her on every page of all his
novels. What Is she? My friends,
Columbus’s egg was not simpler. She
is just exactly 1 ke a man, like our
selves but with certain womanly ten
dencies. Like ourselves, she ardently
desires love. She knows that it is the
best—the absolutely best—thing the
world has to give: that we are all born
for love—man and woman alike ; that
to lack this consummate and supreme
blessing is to loss the best part of life.
Since she desires above all things to
be wooed, and is forbiddon to woo on
her own account, she conceals her own
thoughts, yet, from her own experi
ence in hiding, she is quick at reading
the thoughts of others. She is satis
fied with nothing less than wbat she
herself gives, which is all herself. Her
reserve leads her, In the lower natures,
to deceit and falsehood. Her devotion,
whiefi la part of her nature, leads her
—also in the lower natures—to suspl-
In the Dolman Country.
The Breton men look like overgrown
boys, with their short waistcoats and
shorter jackets ornamenti d with nu
merous rows of pearl buttons. The
cloth trousers are full, and the univer
sal sabots complete one end of the cos
tume. At the other end is a wide-
brimmed low felt or straw hat, on
which it is indispensable to wear black
velvet trimming, with two long black
velvet tails hanging behind. Leather
boots are kept for Sundays and fetes;
and the smartness on those occasions
appear to run mostly into the waistcoat,
the colored braiding on which is al
most Eastern in its gorgeousness. The
skirts of the women’s dresses are
gathered into a broad band at the
waist, a kerchief or shawl being worn
over the shoulders. The hair is plaited
into a broad band, which is doubled
on itself; and the muslin cap has two
long lappets, or ears, which are folded
back on the head, forming large loops.
As for the peasants themselves, the
msjority of whom farm their own
small domains, they bear a toil-worn
stamp very markedly, especially the
women. Tne bare-legged women and
girls seem to take their share, or rather
more than their share, in the hardest
field labor; and their lot is very far
removed from what an English eye
would like to see. Many features of
the country life remind one of Ireland;
but the ingrained idea of the French
peasant to put by francs seems to carry
them bravely through the sternest cir
cumstances. S:ill, with all tfeir moil
ing, they must be very poor. The
houses in the out-of-the-way villages
are little better than hovels, in which
the cows frequently get the lion’s
share of the accommodation, with
floors of beaten earth, and old open
hearths, picturesque, perhaps, but
very smoky. The one article of furni
ture in which luxury is dismayed is
the bedstead, which is generally a
piece of ornamental woodwork, reach
ing from fl >or to ceiling, with the bed
five feet from the floor, inclosed by
curtains or sliding shutters. As the
family grows richer a substantial ward
robe cupboard is added to match the
bed.
Influence of Early Feeding upon
Vitality,
Investigations made in Germany
concerning the comparative vitality
of children under .various methods of
feeding exhibit some peculiar results.
Thus, of 100 children nursed by their
mothers only 18 2 died during the first
year; of those nursed by wet nurses,
39.83 died; of those artificially led, 60
died ; and of those brought up in in
stitutions, 80 died to the 100. Again,
taking 1,0(0 well-to-do persons and
1,000 poor persons, there remained of
the prosperous, after flve years, 943,
while of the poor only 6 5 remained
alive; alter fifty years there remained
of the prosperous 557, and only 383 of
the poor; at seventy years of age there
remained of the piosperous 235, and
but 65 of the poor. The total average
length of life among the well-off class
was found to be fifty years, as against
thirty-two among the poor.
Olfloers of various white military
companies met in Petersburg, Vir
ginia, and organized the Fourth Reg
iment of Virginia Voluntelrs.