Newspaper Page Text
16
WOMAN’S
WORLD.
The room was dark, except for the
dim glow of a street light that shone
in through the open window. It was
that psychological moment when wo
men let down their back hair, and get
into something loose, and tell things,
because it is dusk and they feel confi
dential, that they repent in sackcloth
and ashes the next day when it is
light.
I could only see the girl's profile,
dimly silhouetted against the back of
her Morris chair, says Dorothy Dix, in
the New Orleans Picayune. We were
too intimate to feel the need of mak
ing conversation with each other, and
there had been a long silence, broken
only by the faint tinkle of ice in our
long glasses. Presently the girl began
speaking in rather a hesitating tone:
“Jack.” she began.
“Yes?” 1 inquired, with large en
couragement in my voice.
“Wants me to marry him," she went
on.
"So I have perceived any time these
last two years,” I put in. There was
another silence that 1 broke by ask
ing:
“I don’t know,” she answered in
troubled tones. “You see, it's like this.
I like him too well to say ’no,' and
not quite well enough to say 'yes.' If
matrimony was a four-year contract. I
shouldn't mind signing with him for
it, but when it comes to letting myself
in. for a life job I don’t feel sure that
my affection is equal to the strain."
“It has always seemed a pity to me,"
I remarked, “that the true test of love
comes after marriage, when It's too
late to do you any good.lnstead of be
fore, when you would still have time
to crawfish away from the altar. IPs
like eating cucumbers and green ap
ples to see whether they agree with
you or not. The information you derive
isn’t worth the colic it costs. If you
can still feel an affection for a man
who criticises your housekeeping with
a three-days' beard on his face, your
love is founded on the rock of ages,
and nothing can shake it.”
“There’s the rub,” replied the girl:
“that’s just what X want to know In
advance. I like Jack's society In homo
eopathic doses. Will a taste for It
grow on me, like a love of olives, or
will to much of It pall on my palate,
like too much pudding?”
“Somebody has said,” I suggested,
“that the real question is not can I
live with a‘man, but can I live with
out him."
"Oh, that’s nonsense,” replied the
girl with conviction, “one can live with
only one eye, or one tooth, but it’s far
better to have the usual number. I’ve
no notion of hobbling through life
without a husband just because I can
get along without a man attached to
me.”
There was silence for a moment, and
then she remarked:
"Jack's a fine fellow.”
I assented.
“And he could give me a good
home.”
I assented again.
"And he's desperately In love with
me.
I agreed again.
“And I am very fond of him, but —”
“But what?” I asked.
“He isn’t my Ideal,” she went on des
perately. “He isn’t to me what I am
to him. I like, him. I respect him. I
admire every one of his good qualities,
but he couldn’t thrill me wdth 3,000,000
volts of electricity.
“Fond as I am of him, 1 know that
when I am wdth him there Is still al
ways something lacking for which my
heart thirsts and hungers. There are
hights In my nature he will never
scale: depths he has no plqmmet to
sound; doors to which he has no key.
"If I marry him I shall never
know one pang of jealousy, I shall
never have to worry over the state of
his affection, or grow gray trying to
keep young and beautiful for fear I
shall lose his love.”
“Life on a mill pond,” I remarked
oracularly, “may not be exciting, but
It Is safe.”
“Ye-.-s,” she answered, doubtfully,
“but If one misses the rapture of love
oneself —If one thirsts for champagne
and gets only cambric tea!”
“The French have a proverb,” I re
plied, “that in love one kisses, the
other suffers himself to be kissed. The
question with you is, shall you kiss,
or be kissed?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Is It better
for a woman to love or be loved? Is it
better to be somebody’s ideal, or mar
ry your own Ideal?”
“Ideals.” I said, "are like the peaches
in a basket under pink mosquito net
ting. The? look so alluring that you
spend your last cent in buying them,
and then, when you get th -m home,
they are hard and knotty and worm
eaten, and you throw them out the
back door.”
The girl sighed. “Besides,” I went on,
“if you*ask me, I should say that a
woman ought never to be more than
half as much in love with a man as
he is with her, to start on. A man be
gins married life wdth a fixed capital
of domestic affection, and It is only In
exceptional circumstances that he re
plenishes it. His business, his clubs,
his outside interests tend always to
draw him away from his wife. Every
lover knows the color of bis sweet
heart’s eyes, and the gown he likes
her best in. By the time a man has
been married ten years, he has for
gotten whether she has any eyes or
not, and the only remarks he makes
about her clothes are when the bills
come in.
"A woman, on the contrary. Is al
ways adding to her stock of love. Her
world narrows down to her husband
and home, and almost any man who
treats his wife half way decently can
count on being loved more than he de
serves. There’s something of the cat
in every woman that makes her snug
gle up to a warm hearthstone, and
purr under any hand that rub the fur
the right way.
"Of course, the ideal Is perfect love
on both sides, but in a world that Is
full of misfit hearts, as well as other
unequal things, this is seldom attain
ed, and this habit women have of fall
ing In love with anybody who is good
•to them Is nature’s way of evening up
“things.
“A man should always marry the
woman he loves, and the woman the
man who loves her. The man who Is
always prying to live yp ,to his wife's
approval has a beacon before his eyes
that leads him Into doing the very
best that Is in him. The woman who
Is trying to live up to her husband Is
the most miserable creature on earth,
tortured by a thousand jealous fears
and envies.
"Believe me, my dear, there more
peace and rest In being the idol be
fore whom incense is burned than
there is in being the incense burner."
“And If you do, you may not be his
ideal,” I suggested.
“That Is true,” she agreed, “and Jack
Is a dear boy, and I am very, very fond
of him,” and then she added a little
wistfully, "but Its hard to make up
one’s mind to bread and butter when
one wants cake, Isn't It?”
But I only laughed as I held out my
hand In the dark to say good-night,
is mostly Indigestible," l said.
“arid”’we repent having eaten It when
it is too late."
One of the special advantages of the
present fashion for thin materials is
found in its effect on summer mourn
ing. which is more pleasing to look
upon and more agreeable, to wear than
ever before. With the nets, chiffons
veilings, China silks and crepes de
chine in black, there is no need to bur
den one's self with heavy fabrics.
Mourning taffetas and muslins are also
very much worn.
Evening gowns for young married
women are cut very lo\yback and front
and deficiencies are supplied with a
drapery of tulle.
The very latest corset is a comprom
ise between the old model and the later
one with the exaggerated straight
front. The straight is not con
fined to the front entirely, hut is dis
tributed all around, making the curve
at the back more natural.
In the heart of the rose the span worm
Nestles. (Ah, me! I know.)
And under the wreath of laurel
The sharp thorns press, I trow.
To the feet of the golden idol
A little clay must cling.
And over the gates of Eden
The swords of sorrow swing.
The burial train and the bridal
Oft, In the roadway , meet,
For this is the way Fate mingles
Life’s bitter and its sweet.
—Susie M. Best, in the Bohemian.
According to an historian, says the
Philadelphia Times, this is the way the
first silver wedding came about. It j
was in the time of Hugues Caput. Two- j
of his most faithful servants, a man
and a wothan, had grown gray in his
employ. How could he reward them?
Calling the woman, he said: "Your
service is great, greater than the
man’s, whose service is great enough,
for the woman always finds work
harder than a man, and, therefore, I
will give you a reward. At your age
I know of none better than a dowry
and a husband. The dowry Is here—
this farm from this time forth belongs
to you. If this man who has worked
with you five and twenty years is will
ing to marry you, then the husband is
ready.”
“Your majesty,” said the old peasant,
"how Is it possible that we should mar
ry, having already silver hairs?”
“Then it shall be a silver wedding,"
and the King gave the couple silver
enough to keep them in plenty.
Such was the origin of the silver wed
ding, a custom which, spreading all
through France, subsequently became
known to the world.
"The girls treated principal and
teachers with an exaggerated respect
that they most certainly showed to no
other mortal in the world,” writes
Mary Louise Graham of “My Boarding
School for Girls,” in the Ladies’ Home
Journal for August. “They could not
grasp the Idea that they could talk to
me as they would to any woman of my.
age at their homes. I don't quite know
that I ought to tell what was the
opening wedge, the beginning of the
new order of things. I have never re
gretted it in spite of the fact that It
was rather shocking, and that I was
lame for days afterward. We were all
assembled in the school room for
prayers. I sat down inadvertently on
an optical delusion of a chair, and as
I reached the floor I exclaimed invol
untarily at the top of my lungs: ‘The
devil!’ I wish to remark parenthetical
ly that I am not in the habit of swear
ing, that I think It a most unladylike
custom, and I would advise my girls
against It if I ever dared approach the
subject. In this Instance my swearing
was probably a case af atavism, my
grandfather being a most ungodly old
specimen of a Puritan. But, to return
to that morning of the school room,
there was a silence -which lasted about
two seconds; then one girl giggled.
Well, it ended with tw r o cases of hys
terics, and we didn't have any prayers
that morning. But the episode proved
that I was human, and so it was the
beginning of better things."
Absence—
There is something sad in the swaying
pines,
There is something sad In the sea.
With you not there.
My own. my fair,
Not there with me!
Will you not come, beloved, and bring
The gladness back to the sea?
To the pines the vernal mirth
Of the earth,
And the old heart-Joy to me?
—Clinton Scollard, in the National
Mugazine.
“Sit down and rest your face and
hands,” is the quaint language In
which one genial host I know invites
his friends to make themselves at
home. The words recur every time I
see a woman's face full of unneces
sary lines. If she had only rested her
face, if not her hands, what a differ
ence it would make!
Creams and lotions for softening and
whitening the skin, says the Philadel
phia Press, can be made and bought
everywhere, and women can be di
vided Into tw,o classes—those wh< al
ready use them and those who cannot
be induced to do so. But do they fol
low' the simple preventive method of
resting the face?
Women who ride in the street cars
frequently need to keep their minds
on their faces. Talk of the bicycle ex
pression! Look in the pane of glass
opposite you and note the heart-brok
en droop to the mouth, what a stern
concentrated frown of the brow char
acterizes the street car expression. For
beauty’s sake read a book, if your eyes
can stand it; or talk to your next
neighbor, if she will let you; or get
out and walk if you are not going too
far, or, if none of tehse plans are
practicable, as soon as you reach rome
smooth your face, tired out with think-
SURE TO ASK
The Kind of Coffee When Poatnm la
W ell Made.
“Three great coffee drinkers were my
old school friend and her two daugh
ters.
“They are always complaining and
taking medicine. 1 determined to give
them Postum Food Coffee instead of
coffee when they visited me, so without
saying anything to them about it I
made a big pot of Postum the first
morning, using four heaping teaspoons
to the pint of water and let It boll 20
minutes, stirring down occasionally.
"Before the meal w r as half over each
one passed up the cup to be refilled, re
marking how fine the coffee was. The
mother asked for a third cup and In
quired as to the brand of coffee I used.
I didn’t answer her question Just then,
for I had heard her say a while before
that she didn’t like Postum Food Coffee
unless it was more than half old-fash
ioned coffee.
“After breakfast I told her that the
coffee she liked so well at breakfast
was pure Postum Food Coffee, and the
reason she liked it was because it was
I properly made, that Is, It was boiled
i long enough to bring out the flavor. I
have been brought up from a nervous,
wretched Invalid, to a fine condition of
physical health by leaving off coffee
and using Postum Food Coffee.
“I am doing all I can to help the
world <eit of coffae slavery to Postum
freedom, and b • gratitude
of many, many friends.”—Myra J.
Taller, 1023 Troost avenue, Kansas
City, Mq
THE MOKNING NEWS: SUNDAY. AUGUST 4,190 L
SAVES MEAT
LIEBIG
COMPANY'S EXTRACT
OF BEEF
Makes Meat Cos Further
Makes Soup Taste Richer
ing the gloomy thoughts that come
when one is alone, in an. upward direc
tion, however “little time” you may
feel you have for “facial massage.”
The two saddest things on earth are
the creases between the mouth and
cheek which have been called the pa
rentheses.
It rests a face to wash it, give it a
dry rub, more often than women who
have notibns “complexions” es
say it. Expression is rriore than com
plexion. A few moments' daily rest
on the lounge, whether spent in sleep
or not, is absolutely essential to give
those well-worked muscles a well
earned-repose. To talk much when one
is all tired out cuts up the face into a
map of life whose lines are not easily
erased!
But when finding yourself worrying
too much rush put into the fresh air,
hunt up an absorbing book or enter
taining fellow creature and rest your
face while each discourses to you of
things which take you out of yourself.
As she walked into an uptown drug
store somewhat famous for its soda
water, her appearance seemed to indi
cate that she needed no particular in
struction in the use of cosmetics. She
was a large woman, had arrived at
years of discretion and was handsome
ly, if somewhat flashily, dressed.
Passing majestically by the soda wa
ter fountain, says the New York Sun,
she sought one of the clerks and said
something to him. What she said
couldn’t be heard by those standing
near, but the clerk's voice hadn’t been
filed for some time, so there was no
difficulty in hearing him when he said:
"Certainly, we have Just the thing.
Step this way.”
He led the way to a counter directly
opposite the fountain and took down
from a shelf containing proprietary ar
ticles, several bottles. He recommend
ed one after another, but they wouldn’t
do. Finally, he took down a bottle
and said:
“1 think this will be Just what you
want.”
The woman scanned the label care
fully and said: "I have tried this, but
it seems to make the face rough and
burns horribly.”
The clerk, with an eye to business,
and all unconscious of his unflled voice,
said in tones that could be heard half
a block away: “Well, you know in
making up the face ”
“For heaven’s sake! Don't give your
directions for the benefit of the whole
store!” exclaimed the woman in a tone
which only those in her immediate vi
cinity could hear.
“Pardon me,” said the clerk, “I for
got that anybody was around." Then,
as if to make amends for any and all
breaks, he started out all over again
in the same tone: “As I was saying,
actresses in making up the face al
ways rub a little of this on, then ap
ply the powder puff and then rub the
face with chamois.”
By this time every one of the fifteen
or twenty women at the soda fountain
had become intensely interested in
what the clerk was saying, and nearly
all of them turned around. They look
ed at the customer and all smiled.
But the woman who was looking for a
satisfactory cosmetic was quite the
mistress of the situation. Looking at
the clerk as if she had not the slight
est Idea of what he was talking about
she said:
“You quite mistook what I asked for.
I don't want any cosmetics. I never
use them under any circumstances.
What I asked you for was a bottle of
witchhazel extract.”
The clerk looked at his customer for
a moment as if he didn't quite know
whether he was In Manhattan or Ho
boken, and meekly replied: “Oh, I beg
your pardon, will you have a large or
small bottle?”
The woman, in a loud tone, said that
she would have a small bottle, and
then in a much lower tone said: “And
put in that bottle of face cream. You’re
too stupid for any use.”
The clerk followed both directions,
and when the woman went out, a man
who looked as if he might be a person
having authority in the place called
the clerk over into the corner near the
cashier's desk and said:
“That woman is one of the best
customers for face polish we have. I
fear you have lost her for the store by
that Infernal calliope voice of yours.
For heaven's sake cultivate pianissimo
or get anew job!”
The rest of the women went on drink
ing their soda water, and all smiled In
dulgently at the clerk as he passed to
the other end of the store.
Pride—
"Oh, why should the spirit of mortal
be proud?”
If I could make proper reply
My wisdom would raise me so far o'er
the crowd
That none would be prouder than I.
—Washington Star.
Little Kindnesses—
You gave on the way a pleasant smile
And thought no more about It;
It cheered a life that was sad the while
That might have been wrecked with
out it;
And so for the smile and Its fruit
age fair
You’ll reap a crown some time—
somewhere.
You spoke one day a cheering word.
And passed to other duties;
It warmed a heart, new promise stirred
And painted a life with beauties.
And so for the word and its silent
prayer
You’ll reap a palm some time—
somewhere.
You lent a hand to a fallen one
A lift in kindness given;
It saved a soul when help was none.
And won a heart for heaven;
And so for the help you proffered
there
You’ll reap a Joy some time—some
where.
—D. G. Bickers In New York Tribune.
It has often been remarked, says the
Chicago Chronicle, that while many
women have defective memories re
garding events of importance in the
j world’s history they never forget the
date upon which their friends were
born. They may forget their own
birthday—the exact year In which they
first saw the light—but their memories
never fail when a like date In a friend's
career is concerned. They have all such
dates stored away in their minds so
j that they can be brought forth at a
moment’s notice. These are generally
| what might be called personal dates
and would be regarded as highly unin
; terestlng by most folks, having to do
} sometimes with Johnnie's first tooth
and when Mary’s curls were cut, but
j to the woman herself they are as mo
! mentous as the signing of the magna
j charta.
There Is one woman especially who
| has so many anniversaries of one kind
and another in a year that it is im
possible for her acquaintances to re
, member exactly what she Is oelebrat-
ing. But this is riot all, for it wouldn't
be expected of neighbors to rejoice with
one, but even the woman's husband is
sometimes bewildered by her calendar
of events.
“This is an anniversary, Fritz,” she
will say to her liege lord at the break
fast table. "Did you know it?”
"Know' it? Of course I did,” Mr.
Fritz responds, knitting his brows.
“Let me see—July l. Oh! certainly, it’s
your birthday.”
“It’% nothing of the sort,” says his
better half irritably. “I should think
that any man who had been married
to a woman three years would know by
this time that she was born in October,
but I have to tell you so every year.
We were introduced to each on July 1.
Now, do try to remember it always.”
"I shall,” replied Fritz obediently,
but he doesn’t. He gets the day that
they met mixed with the day that he
first called her “dear,” or with the
date upon which they became engaged,
or the one upon which they had their
first quarrel or that upon which he
placed the engagement ring op her fin
ger.
•
The governess is not an American in
stitution. Even the rich families of the
large cities, says the New York Sun,
do not depend on a governess for the
education of the girls. Sensibly enough,
the children are sent to a private
school, where they are not only taught,
as a rule, by more competent teachers,
but have the advantage of proper dis
cipline and of association with other
girls.
In England the governesses are
thicker than blackberries. Even poor
families cannot forego that luxury. The
governess herself works hard and
errns little. One v'ho gets SSOO a year
is in luck. Here is an instance to show
how much less a good many of them
have to put up with. The principal of
a woman's college received a letter
from a rector saying:
“We want a refined, ladylike and
well-educated governess for our little
girl. May I ask if you think Miss X
would be equal to teach the usual Eng
lish subjects, also piano and violin?
She w'ould be required to look after
the little girl’s wardrobe, as to mend
ing and so on. We offer a salary of £2O
a year and a refined home in a beauti
ful country.”
The principal wrote in reply:
"Dear Sir: I am sure Miss X’s
father had no idea what salary was
offered or he would not have applied.”
This brought the rector's wife to the
front in the following letter:
“Madam: Our advertisement in the
Christian, fully stating salary and re
quirements, was answered by Mr. X.
among some forty others in a gentle
manly and straightforward manner.
Therefore your curt and insolent reply
to my husband’s courteous Inquiries
respecting Miss X is totally inexcusa
ble. Your opinion with regard to salary
was neither asked for nor required.”
It would be interesting to know how
many replies and of what nature such
an advertisement would get in this
country. How many young women are
pining to take charge of a child, teach
her the usual branches, the piano and
the violin, mend her clothes “and so
on” for SIOO a year?
Kindergarten teachers, by the way,
receive from S4OO to S6OO a year In Eng
land. The average annual salary of a
head mistress in an elementary school
under the London school board is SOSO
and of assistants about Juniors
receive very much less. Salaries in the
regular day schools begin when there
is no degree or certificate at S4OO and
scarcely rise above SSOO. For those
who have a degree they begin at SSOO
and in exceptional cases reach SI,OOO,
sometimes even more. The head mis
tresses in these schools receive from
11,000 to, in a very few cases, $5,000 a
year.
Fashionable women who once have
an acknowledged position, says the
New York Tribune, can do pretty
much as they like, that is, they can
deviate from conventional ideas in
their habits of life without losing
caste, and be a law unto themselves
as long as what they elect to do Is
.merely an eccentricity of taste. When
Mrs. Jack Smart announced that she
was tired of renting a cottage at a
watering place and Intended keeping
her Fifth gvenue home open all sum
mer, and that she and her two daugh
ters would practically pass the season
In town, her friends declared that
there was no reason why she should
not suit herself. In fact, the women
applauded the Idea when they found a
luncheon table always attractively
spread with cold dainties In her large
darkened dining room, cooled with
Electric fans, when they ran up to
,town for a day’s shopping. The men,
who were obliged to spend the week
In Wall street, were welcomed to din
ner, and were sure of finding cooling
drinks or her sideboard during the
evening, and a comfortable cushion on
the front steps. Here Mrs. Jack and
her pretty daughters held a small
court during the long, hot evenings—
or would pick up their trains, pin on
their hats and stroll with favored
swains to the nearest soda water foun
tain. The house itself looked charm
ingly comfortable. The rugs and car
pets were all rolled up, and the polish
ed floors were cool and inviting. Fresh
chintz, with an especial pattern for
each room, covered the furniture, while
Venetian blinds excluded the glare
from the curtainless windows. Flow
ers were everywhere. Great bowls or
roses, minlonette, carnations, hello-
A Wife Says:
“We have four children. With the first
three I suffered almost unbearable pains from
12 to 14 hours, and had to be placed under
the influence of chloroform. I used three
bottles of Mother's Friend before our last
child came, which i/TfjflfS.
is a strong, fat and L
healthy boy, doing Mp* 5 ■
my housework up \
to within two hours , _
of birth, and suf- (©)'■ Sjs§i||F '
fered but a few hard vVj[ fijHF '**')
pains. This lini- / 7 sSJJf ‘ §
mentis the grand-/ f A // A TANARUS//
est remedy ever jtf
Mother’s T Tl
Friend ' n*
will do for every woman what it did for the
Minnesota mother who writes the above let
ter. Not to use it during pregnancy is a
mistake to be paid for in pain and suffering.
Mother's Friend equips the patient with a
strong body and clear intellect, which in
turn are imparted to the child. It relaxes
the muscles and allows them to expand. It
relieves morning sickness and nervousness.
It puts all the organs concerned in perfect
condition for the final hour, so that the actual
labor is short and practically painless. Dan
ger of rising or hard breasts is altogether
avoided, and recovery is merely a matter of
a few days.
Druggists tell Mother's Friend for $1 a bottle.
The Bradfleld Regulator Cos., Atlanta, Qm*
*ad lee aar tret illustrated book. >
Abbzys
A teaspoonful of Abbey’s Salt
and a half tumbler of water is jiU
that is required to make the most
Palatable, Refreshing
and Healthful Beverage
imaginable. It tastes not unlike
soda lemonade and is unequaled
as a delicious, cooling and invig
orating drink.
At moat or by mail, tt, 50c and SI.OO par bottle
Scad postal card for sample to
j The Abbey Effervescent Salt Cos.
9-15 Murrey Street, New York
For sale by FI PPM AN BROS, and
LIVINGSTON S PHARMACY.
trope and other sweet-scented blos
soms filled the house with their per
fume.
“Yes, I was enjoying it all immense
ly,’’ said Mrs. Jack, in answer to the
inquiries of her friends. “It is so en
tirely novel, don’t you know! In the
way of outdoor life we have automo
biling, yachting, driving and riding in
the park. During the hot part of the
day we wear the thinnest wrappers and
read novels by the electric fans, which
keep us perfectly cool. In the evening
after 5 o'clock we see men galore.
Jack is perfectly delighted, or at least
has the grace to say he is. And as for
'the girls and me, we are passing a
beautiful time. Of course, under the
circumstances, Milly and Betty are
great belles, and between you and me
it looks as if our summer in town
would bear far reaching results for
both of them!”
And now It is Mr. Barry Pain who
says his say about women and humor.
Mr. Pain is something of a humorist
himself, and is supposed to know the
article when he sees it. He is willing
to give the deveil his due. This is not
intended as a reflection on women, this
mention of the devil. It is simply in
tended to express Mr. Pain’s frame of
mind. Permeated, therefore, with the
determination to be just though the
heavens fall, Mr. Pain says that it has
never been far from his thoughts to
say that women had no sense of hu
mor.
"I said,” admits this just man,
“that women had not ,in the highest
sense, humor, which is a very different
thing. A musical ear is not the same
as a talent for composition. The abil
ity to appreciate a dinner is not the
same as the ability to cook it. I have
never dfenied that women could appre
ciate fun when they met it. They are
like men in that respect; some can and
some cannot. There is no sex disabil
ity there.”
Mr. Pain declares, says the New York
Sun, that women have produced no
permanent literary humor. But his
idea of justice hangs before him and he
hastens to add that in conversation
women supply the needs of the mo
ment in humor better than men do.
“The male mind,” says Mr. Pain,
moves perhaps more surely and cor
rectly, but it certainly moves more
slowly. The man thinks of the right
thing to say, but he thinks of it about
thirty seconds too late and by that
time—well, the ‘bus has gone on.’ Wo
men, at least in what is called the up
per classes, are much more ready.”
Mr. Pain goes on to say that men’s
relaxation is in business. This comes
as a surprise in regard to the British
“upper classes” which are commonly
supposed to despise business and all
persons and things pertaining thereto,
with the exception of the sheckels
which a good business rakes in. Mr.
Pain not only knows humor when he
sees it, but he can give a receipe for
making it.
“A sense of humor,” says he, “is
practically the same thing as a sense
of proportion. If you have a good sense
of proportion an overstatement or an
understatement makes you smile. A
man, whose termagant wife fell out of
a window while shouting abuse at him
down on the street, said, when told of
her death;
“ ‘Don’t make me laugh! I’ve got a
cracked lip.’
“That was a grotesque understate
ment. A case of a grotesque overstate
ment is in the story of the American
who complained of finding a tin tack in
his hash. He was asked if he expected
an ivory-handled umbrella in a fifteen
cent dish.”
Mr. Pain has such a keen sense of
humor that he likes this good old story
even in the form in whch he tells it.
Even a woman, if an American woman,
would prefer the much cleaverer vari
ation wherein the hash eater discovers
a brass button in his food and is indig
nantly asked if he expected a full uni
form. In his story the ivory-handled
umbrella and the tack have no mean
ing, except that one is big and one is
little. But never mind. Mr. Pain does
not have to tell his American stories to
Amercan women, so there is no harm
done.
Next hear Mr. Pain on the subject of
unconscious humor, with two good sto
ries, one of which is not altogether
new.
“Girls,” says he, “like men, women
dogs and everything else that breathes,
occasionally give us some unconscious
humor. One of the best instances of
this sort of humor is furnished by the
women who spend one-half their time
reviling the other sex and the other
half imitating it.
"When I think of unconscious humor
I am reminded of the old story of a
man who went into a woebegone restau
rant and ordered a. fried sole. Immedi
ately afterward came a man who also
ordered a fried sole and added: ‘And
mind! If it isn’t fresh I won't eat it.’
The waiter wearily went to the tube
and shouted down to the kitchen:
“ ‘Two fried soles. And hi! the last
one 'as got to be fresh!’
Then Mr. Pain tells of a man whose
appearance somehow did not please a
passing 'bus drver. The latter calmly
lowered his whip and knocked off the
man’s hat, then whipped up his horses.
"The injured man,” says the humor
ist. "tore after the 'bus, Just succeed
ed in catching up the tail of it and
pinched the conductor’s leg. I suppose
his idea was that the whole thing was
cast in one piece.”
Mr. Pain tells of two little girls In
whom he unexpectedly discovered an
unmistakably creative sense of hu
mor. It was at the seashore, and the
little girls had thin black legs and faces
like undertakers. They had also a small
pail and a shovel of the regular sea
shore variety. When first observed by
the humorist they had their eyes on a
fat old gentleman asleep on the sand
with his back against the wall. The
funereal little girls whispered together,
they solemly filled their pail and, still
solemnly went to the parade and empt
ied the sand down upon the old gentle
man's head. According to Mr. Pain
the two little girls never smiled while
they were doing this and, having done
it, walked away with dignity. At the
next flight of steps they went down
upon the sand and looked along the
wall untl they found a sleeping old
lady when they repeated the perform
ance. As Mr. Pain says, “They empt
ied the sand wth no Jubilation, but in
the same accurate and perfunctory
manner with which one drops a three
penny piece into the offertory bag.”
This humorist was so lost to a sense
of humor which he saw it that he
thought the little girts were as solemn
as they looked. It was somewhat a
shock to his convictions about feminine
lack of humor when he came across
the two children an hour later lying
flat on the sand and laughing until
they were almost as black in the face
as their stockings.
And the moral of this is: Perhaps
women laugh, but are not always
caught at it.
“Life is a strange thing, and one
never knows when one is badly off,”
observed Amaryllis profoundly, says
the New r York Commercial Advocate.
“Which is a familiar saying turned
upside down,” said Araminta.
“It always has been a mystery to me
—as well as a few million other deep
thinkers—why people who have noth
ing to live for cling to life, while mil
lionaires and heads of families and
tenderly loved maids and able-bodied
young men shuffle off this mortal coll
with all speed and no hesitation at the
first unkind blow of fate.”
"Have you been dipping into Wer
ther. Amaryllis, dear, or is your diges
tion a bit awry?” inquired Araminta
with solicitude.
"I have been dipping into cheap res
taurants, my love, and they are as good
at upsetting one’s internal mechanism
and depressing one’s spirits as any
German novels I've ever heard of.”
“Well, don't do it again.”
“It makes you philosophical in a
Schopenhauer sort of way,” pursed
Amaryllis. “I fancy he lived on cab
bage stuffed with chestnuts and pump
kin soup with cherries in it before he
wrote his cheerful little dirges on life
and the desirability of getting over
with it as quickly as possible.”
“What did you eat"
“Well, I ordered chocolate, but it
had a purple tinge, and not being as
brave as the man who ate the first
oyster, I demurred and sent it back.
Then the maiden all forlorn who wait
ed on me suggested in a hoarse, con
fidential whisper that could be heard
a block off that I 'take the 15-cent din
ner.’ As it was 4 in the afternoon and
I was after a cup of tea and some
toast and tarts I demutTed once agaip.
Finally I got the tea, and, being in
a chastened and feeble frame of mind
by that time, drank it. I ate some
bread and butter, too—home-made
bread. Hence these philosophies!”
Amaryllis paused and made a wry
face at the thought of the bread, and
then babbled on flippantly.
“Sitting opposite to me at the same
coffee-stained, crumb-strewn, fly-in
fested table was a woman of thirty-
five or forty. She was well dressed and
evidently refined. She was plodding
conscientiously through the 15-cent din
ner. When I sat down at the table rhe
wiped her eyes furtively with her
handkerchief and bent her head so that
I could not see her face clearly. For
five or ten minutes she continued to
eat and drink apparently unaware of
my presence. I picked up a newspaper
and began to read. Then my opposite
neighbor gave up her pitiful comedy
and I saw a tear roll down her cheek,
then another and another and then rhe
pushed aside the plates and glasses,
put her elbows on the table, leaned her
head on her hands and wept, frankly,
bitterly, unrestrainedly.
“When she finally raised her head
with a defiant look, I looked across at
her smiling sympathetically.
“ ‘I can’t help it.’ she said desperate
ly, ‘l’m worried sick.'
’’l looked around at the greasy res
taurant, deserted now, except for us
two, and squalid and unkempt at any
time, and didn’t wonder she was wor
ried.
" ‘You've had some trouble?’ I said.
“ ‘Oh. I don't mind ordinary trouble,’
said my tearful companion. ‘l’ve had
to make my way in the world since
my husband died ten years ago, and
I’ve done it pretty well. I’m very sav
ing, and I work very hard. I live on so
much a year and put the rest in the
bank. I have saved—a—good deal,’ and
she fell aweeping afresh.
“ ‘Surely, the bank didn’t fail?’ I
asked, all indignation and sympathy at
once.
“ -Oh, no, but to think that I never
spend a penny on pleasure and always
take my meals here because it's cheap,
a*d work so hard, and now the doc
tors tell me I cannot get well. I won’t
live six months, they say. There is
just a chance for me if I go on a sea
voyage.’ ”
“ ‘But how good it is that you have
some money saved and can take the
voyage. You may be stronger than
ever when you come back and be able
to make more money. (I didn’t want
to be sordid. Araminta, but I didn't
know exactly how to -be consoling.)
But the weeping lady waved aside my
cheefful suggestions: ‘lt isn't spending
my savings that I mind, or giving up
my work,’ she said. ‘lt’s the idea—of
of dying. In six months. They say
“a chance to get well,” but I know that
I shall die. I went to three hospitals
and they all said the same thing. The
doctor thought he would cheer me and
said I wouldn’t suffer much. As if I’d J
mind suffering! I’ve suffered enough
trying to live, and I’m not afraid of
it.’
•• But death isn’t such an awful thing
after all,’ said I. ‘Now, if you were
leaving little children or a very happy
home. But you say you work very
hard, have no pleasures and —and eat
here. That isn't 4fe; what life should
be.'
” 'But it’s life.’ sobbed the poor
creature
“ 'What have you decided to do
take the trip?'
“ Yes, I've bought my ticket and I’m
going next Saturday. One brute of a
doctor advised me to stay in New
York and spend my money giving "my
self good food and comfort— until
—until the end. But I won’t die a day
sooner than I can help. And I may get
well. Doctors don’t know everything '
and she wiped her eyes; gathered up
her gloves and purse and prepared to
go.
"I sat awhile over my alleged tea
and pondered. I felt for her from my
heart. But no amount of wrestling
with my spirit could make me under
stand why she wanted to live. And
that, my dear Araminta, is why I’m
depressed to-day.”
FAVORITE OF LOUS XIV.
The First Love of the Man of Many
Intrigues.
Louis XIV had many amours dur
ing his reign, but these may be divided
into three periods, identified wtth three
famous women, noted for their beauty.
His youth, and promise are typified In
the bright, beauty and delicate love
liness of La Valliere, its splendor and
triumph in the matured charms of
Madame Montespan; and Its shadow
and decay in the astute intellect and
rigid devotion of Madame de Mainte
non. The King, like Charles II of Eng
land, was attracted by personal beau
ty, but unlike him he was not content
with a dumb Venus. His loves needed
to possess a bright wit and a clear
judgment to retain his fancy.
Francoise de la Baume created by
the King Marquise de la Valliere—was
of a noble family, long established in
Touraine. She was beautiful and gift
ed with more than ordinary talent.
She had the figure of a Venus, al
though petite. “La petite la Valliere,”
her friends called her. She was softly
rounded, had a beautiful complexion,
fair hair, blue eyes and a smile at once
tender and modest and was well cal
culated to captivate a youthful prince.
Madame de Sevlgne gives Jha follow
ing picture of La Valliere: “Exact
counterpart to Montespan, she is a
little violet which conceals itself under
the grass and Is ashamed of being the
mistress of the King, and also of being
an unwededd mother. Never shall we
have another cast in such a mold.”
When the King first saw Francoise
de la Baume at court he promptly fell
LA MARQUISE DE LA VALLIERE.
in love with her. He took so little pains
to hide his feelings, that his mother
remonstrated with him, but to no pur
pose. This sentiment was returned by
Madame de la Baume who loved him
as a man, not as a king, and who nev
er throughout life formed another at
tachment. She was capable of a deep
and steadfast love, and had a tender
conscience. Her connection with the
King weighed upon her mind and
heart and several times she tried to
break the chain which bound her to
him, retiring repeatedly to a convent.
But the King’s entreaties were always
rewarded by her return, for her love
for Louis was stronger than her con
science. She was not ambitious like
Montespan. She was unselfish and un
suspicious. Montespan, indeed, culti
vated the friendship of La Vailliere in
order to be in the company of the
King, supplanting her later as his mis
tress.
Some writers claim that La Valliere
retired to the convent at which she
died, because of the King’s coldness to
her when he became enamored of Mcm
tespan. The King seems to have ‘ap
preciated true worth and beauty in
women, but he was weak in love and
quite capable of admiring several at
the same time. -x
At last when ill from remorse ana
anxiety La Valliere again asked per
mission to retire to a convent, the
king, fascinated by the more magnifi
cent beauty of Montespan, did not then
object. He wished, however, that La
Valliere should choose some order in
which she might be distinguished, hut
she, truly repentant, did not desire
this.
Before going into the cloister she
threw herself at the queen’s feet and
humbly begged her pardon for all *he
sorrow which she had caused her. This
was in 1675, when she Joined the Car
melites of Rue St. Jacques. She was
then 37 years of age. She took the veil
in the presence of the whole court. She
died in 1710—five years before the king
It was generally supposed that the
Marquise de la Valliere was the moth
er of “The Man with the Iron Mask,
who for between thirty and forty year?
was confined in the Bastile, always
wearing a mask to conceal his face.
Mademoiselle de Blois, married to a
nephew of the Prince of Conti, was
also the offspring of Louis XIV and
the Marquise de la Valliere. She was
treated by her father with the same
respect as if she were a legitimate
child. Her dowry was princely, and the
marriage festivities were truly mag
nificent. Her mother was living at this
time the life of a nun—apart from her
children, and it is sorrowful to imagine
her feelings when she heard in her
narrow cell the details of the wedding
festivities. Frederique Seeger.
—Former Governor Taylor of Ten
nessee has been invited to take part in
a fiddling contest betw-een the old set
tlers of Missouri, which is to take
dace at Kansas City on Aqg. 10,