Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 10, 1875, Page 11

THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY JANUARY 10, 1875.—SIXTEEN PAGES, _——————e—e—e WOMAN. : The Large Number Who. Need and Cannot Obtain Employment. What Will Become of Them?---The Perils in Their Pathway, Gaty Blone's Statament as to “What Women Havo Gained.” The Condition of the Lower-Class Women. in Saxony. Humors of the Fair Sex. [ . ‘THE WOMAN QUESTION. o the Edilor of The Chicago Trioune: { Cmcaco, Jan. 9.—Your own and othér jour- pall have of late teemed with articles upon thi much discussed but yet nosolved guestion.- Thée sjority of readers, like myself, glan¢s at, per- pspsread them, and then the matter ends. A Jittie incident of recent occurrence has hrought the subject more vividly before me, and Ihave peen compelled to give it a more careful con-. pideration. E : . In Jast Sunday's TRIBUNE was an advertise- ment for lady-copyists. Only two or thred were wanted, and those only temporarily. The rexals was, that, before noon on Aonday, mors then 150 young women had applied at the officc of the sdvertiser for work, and the maila ilist 8ame day brought nearly 100 more applications in wnting. Theman who caused this advertisement to bs published {fold me that last Mondey was the saddest day of his life; acd that, when ne eaw ecores of young fomen turning away in sorrow and tears; be: cause of iheir disappointment, he wished he had pever advertised. ¢ God knows,” he said, ‘*that I m”:IL heartily wished I Lad employment for + This incident is simply a straw, but it indicates with paintul emphasis that there are thousands of capable young women in our city not only seeking honest work, bat many of them suffér- iog for the want of it. This state of affairs fernishes = social problem which I confess I am pot competent to eolve, but it suggests some mestions which Ithink are pertinent, and Which 30}1}-’1 e candidly considered by those who have ¢ Lieart the weal of their fellows. & ‘What will become of this large army of unem- ployed fomales? This is a difiicult question to snswer. They must live, bul Aow? 1t is awell- known, but humiliating fact, thal there are plenty of men in every large city, who cen always find money to pay for victous and sensual Indulgences, ' but who bave mever sellar to spare to preveny the weak snd tempted from falling into sinfanl ways; aud this class ars always on the look-ont for poor gurls who are by their necessities driven to the brink of despair. Is it any wonder that the gilded Lait which vice holds out to women who are reduced to such extremitiés at- stacts 80 many to their ruin? The most relisble staustics we heve show that the sverags Dfe of prostitutes is four yesrs obly,—that is, dsung from the time they enter upon this career as a profession. Tako hio consideration, then, the large numbér in a gty Like Chicago, and think thot the annual re- pruits are 25 per cent o the whole pumbér now fallowing this vocauon, esying nothing of thé sdditional demand caused by increase ¢f popu- Iation, and the results are simply appalling, And, when we consider that & vast majority of thoss who give themselves up 2o a life of vice do 80 from what seems to them a peutter of neceasity, ratker than choice, the fict hat thers are thousands who, by reason of want of employment, are subjected to peculiar Yeniftations, becowes alarmingly significant. Homes for Fallen Women, Aagdalen ieties, sod other reformatory institutions, are all very well and worthy of com- mendation and support; but, in _ this, 38 well a8 in other matiers, * An onrce of pre- wvention is better than a pound of core™; and beuce I think that ihe contributions aud per- sonal efforts of philanthropists should be ap- plied to soma scheme whereby the thousands of poemployed women can eafn &n Lonest livoli- bood, and thus savée them from the temptation B ssling their sonls for food snd wsiment. ‘That the vice of prostitution can be wholly ‘exterminated, I am not Utopian enough loimagine. But that, by providing honest em- ployment for the unemployed, muititudes can be mved from a life of dizhonor, I do believe. How snll wedoit? That is the question, but I con- Zass I am unable to snswer it. VERIOL, | S 8 WHAT WOMEN HAVE GAINED, Lucy Stone, tn the Woman's Jowrnal. & Trom the time, still frech in the minds of mid- Als-dged persons, when there were no remunera- tive occupations open to women, when thére was no high school for girls, no coliege that wonld adiit womon : when womieii leciurers, lawyers, doctors, editors, and ministers wera unknown, up to this time, when all these things and mandy others ars free to women, the gain scems mar- velons. Butethe gain in legal rights is even greater. . It is not thirty years since & married womsan could not own nioney, even when she hid esrned it by hara work. Bhe could pot-make a will of auy property she posseesed. She gavo birth toa «child, and the law said it was not hers. She cctld not make a conitraét. Sbe could not make avalid deed of the land she owned. SHe counld ®mot be the guardian of children,—not even of berows. Bhe had only the pauper right. viz: werightto be maintained. Al the hard work of hér Lands and all the income from her brain belonged to the husband, who owned, and was supposed to support ber. To-day a wife can ¥ezally edrn and own, can buy and sell and will, €x makie s valid deod, can be guardian of chil- dren, and, at the marriage ceremeny, is not Becesgarily Tequired to prowise toabey. la‘Wyomtog and Gtah Territories women are Yoters. In !‘fidfigln moro_than 40,000 men xt the polls cast their vote for Woman suffrage. In sy Siates women are legally electod and do serve ou the Bcliool Board. ~ Iows has taken the first leval step to secure suffrage for women. Three Judzes of the Supreme Court in Maine express the opinion that womea mey legally Berva a5 Justicos of the Peace 1n that State. In Congress and in_every Northern State Logisls- taro the equal political rights of woman are dis- Thus, from the smallest of all beginnings, through three decader, has the good canse of Vomau’s Rights grown into place znd power. fgn onfy wits to be crowned with Woman agte. o this end societies exist in every Northern tate, enpplemented by connty and fown socie- liss, by political clubs, pledged to seoure tho tlection of Legialatures of such men as will vote for the enfranchisement of women. i An army of women aro leagued together in Dlemn covenmnt to socure thoir rights to a ¥oiee'in making the'laws which they are required loobey. The time cannot be far away when 1his will be 2ccomptished. A# anincentive, to activity it should neverfora Ioment be forgoiten that in the different States thelaw makes’ women the political équsls of Paapers, idiots, lunatics, felons; of men guilty & “bribery, forgery, illegal voting, duamfi and any other crime or weakess whi 1en {0 be trusted with the rights of cifi- ‘unfity enship, This picture of pain and loss closes the year 5. May the next one end with brighter color. __WOMEN IN SAXONY. American Emerson says: ¢ I.have thonghta Buficient measure of civilization is the influence of £ood women.” He is sad to be the most bopular foreign essayist in Germady ; ‘sdd it is :-rum that thess peckle are most fond of such Ieratore as is frthest beyond their compreben- oz, Nevertheless, no true Sxxon would sub- Eibe to this particalsr dogma. For, yonder Iukeb-wagon piled with eountry produce, and %1 by & womsn and 2 dog tugging on eifher 5ids the shaft, while the husband-driver walks . alongside, is 80 far from being ) eingular spectaclo that, after now some six Pears’ daily femiliarity with it, I confess toa " in quite sympathizing with the indig- Hh_u of & rewcomer. But, indeed; this i§ flm’“ only 2t nightfall we shall meet the ey wagon homeward drawn by the same team ; Jo! upon the empty hampers, smokes $me themen aqd master of ail- - Let. us be Slmal; why walk home when our woman and o w934 band to carrrun? - Why do- mob € ‘Woman-emancipationists come to Saxony and eee with their own cyes what the capacities of the sex actually are 3 Here wonien show more strength and endurance then many of thoi husbands Aud brothers do. They carry ou their bread backs, for miles, beavier weights than I should care to lend my shoulders to. 3las- £ivo are their legs as the banyan-root ; their hips are a8 the bows of a three-decker. Backs havé “they like derricka; rongh hands like pile-drivera. They wear knee-short sxirts, sleeves at elbows, headkerchiefs. Asarule they possess aninial £00a nature aud vacant amisbifity. But at 20 or 25 they are already growing old. Growing ol with them is & painful process; not a grice- fal one. The reserves of vitality are dry, and the woman's faco becomes farrowed, even as the field shie cultivates. Her eyes fade into stolidity and unittelligencs. Her mouth seldom emiles.” Thirty finds her hollow-cheeked, with- ered, bony. At 50—should hd live 80 long—she is in extrems old age. Mesnwhile she hds been bearing chiidren a8 plentifully as though thai were her gole” employment. But such labors secure hér gcarce a femporary immunity from other toil. I have seen her straining up a long Iill; weighted with more burdens one. Pleasanter is it to consider her in the hayfield, before youth has dried up in ber. Her plain costume follows her figure closely endugh to show to the best advantsge its heavy but not unhandeoms contours. Seon from a distance, her motions and postures have often an admira- ble grace. IHer limbs observe barmonious lines. In rdking, stooping; toseing the hay, her action i8 supple aud casy. As she labors in the sun, sho keepd up s continuous good-humored chat-. ter with her companions. 1ier bare srmis and legs are bronzed by summer exposure to héat— and dirt; and her visage is of a color almost Ethiopian. But an American Southerner might 8es in kict more thai the dark completion fo put him {n mind of former days and institu- tions.—Juiian Hawthorne in Contemporary Re- view. FAISCELLAREOUS FEMININE ITEMS, 4 A Qreen Bay woman who weighs 880 pounds ineists that she is **somebody's dartiog." A Galveston young lady has sued a man for atfempting to kiss her #zainst her will, instead of against her cheek. A little girl, upon her return from a children’s party, beiog asked if she had a good time, re- plhed: *“Yes; but there wasn't much boys there.” ® . Nothing fecalls to the mind of the married man tho jovs of bis single life go vividly a8 to g:zd that tho baby has béen eating ciatkers it e bed. 5t. Paulis the tome of s girl so_ beautiful that shie is obliged to keep her bréath scented with year-old onions m order to keeg the beaus at & proper distdnce. A Migsachusetts Iady lately ran against her husband for School Comimissivaer, and beat him. That 18 right. Beiog a womab, tho man should nol beat her. 3 This world would be & sandy desert of lone- someness if women were not privileged toattond auction and pay more for an old bureau than'a new chamber-set would cost. “] want to engage you for {wo sets ahead,” 2aid a fellow to a belloat aball. “As I can't sccommodate you,” she replied; “I simll be obliged to give von one set back.” A Milwankee man hid in & public doorway and jumped out and kissed bis wife. Bha didn't whoop and yell as he expected, but said; ““Don't be sd bold, mister—iolks around heré know me!” The woman who wors her ateent lover's kisses on her lips for him {6 come and take again, survived long enough to bestow them up— on s responsible third party, with good collater- al securities. . o Talk about stamina in fertale character! Bat there is a irother in Detroit who will §it” on the cotiier of o bureau and read 4 dime novel half through beforo slie becomes aware that her baby has been howling for thirty-five minutes. The clash in the fashionable woild just now Between the girls with_pretty féet who want to wear short dresses, and those with usly feet who insist npon bavios long oues; is deseribed 'fhi {aghionable dressinakers a8 something fear- ul ‘The Newark womdn who marriéd four Hus- bands out of tho same family explained her con- duct by, saying that she was defermined to find out whetier there was a man among thém wbith & cent for any earthly purpose. The fourth man is still on trial. Sharp littlé Katy Doyle, of Pittabirg, got out of patience with her bashful lover’a backward- ness, aad so brought matters to a favorabie cli- max by sayiig to him: ¢ I %eally belicvo you are afraid to ask me to marry you, for Fou know 1 would eay yes.” i A female Justice of Wyoming was iarried Iast week, and, £rud to her professional training, she previonily notitied her friends to be present by a printed -form, as follows: ““Iam about to mur{mlk. J—— D—, of this county, and he will be qualified and sworn in st my office on ‘Weénesday morning next at10 a.m:. You are itvited to sitend.” fgrief has béén pronounced by thority to bo lovely while it lastd, but it is. not conetructed £6 eutiure the rudes as- saults of time. A Connecticut mdn, who only last spring threw himeelf upon tho cold turf that wrapped hid beloved's clay, and wept £ill his eyelashes fall out, has since had three women folldwing lim eround for alimony.—Brooklyn Argus, Thé Drichess of Kingston was remarkable for baving s high sease of her’ own dignity. Being ofib A5y déuxwed id hef caitidge by (he fnlosd- ing of a cart of coals in & very narrow streei Ehe leaned with both her arms ‘on £hé _carriage door and e2id to the man; *“How. dato you, sirrah, stop » woman of quality in thejdtreot?” * Woman of gaality ? replied the man. Ye ellow, " rejoined 8 rGrace; ** don’t vou see my arms on my carrisge® ™ + Ves,” replied he, I do; and a pair of coarse arms they are. In Springfield, 3fass., recently, & young mar- ried woman becama poesessed with the idea that her proper vocation was that of a novelist, So she secretly began a thrilling story in which the héro wastobe sirangled by his jeslous wife. Into the murder acenc she determined to pour her wholé soul, and in order o proverly describe it she went to the bedside of her sleeping spouse aod placing her hands about his nheck, choxed bun into inseneibility. He kuocked her down with & chair as soon a8 he revived, and the novel went into the stove. A hundred years ago, Sieur Beaulard was a poor Parisian milliner. to whom camea customer desirous of arousing his dormant genius. *¢ Sir,” sl swd, “I am &n Englishwoman sud. the widow of an Admiral. Make me s bonnet ex- pressive of thess {acts.” Beaulard ross to the occasion ; and presently sent the dame & bonnet which bore puffs of gauze simulating & stormy sea, quantities of small orniments representing the ships thereon, heavy kuots of ribbon the rocks, snd 4 diamond star on thé very top the light-house ladtern, From that bour Beaulard ;rq:sxiahmm, with a prodigions train of cus- ers. Only the female spiders spin Webs. They owa i the real sscator and. the males have to Jiva a vagabond life unger stones and in other obrcuré biding-places. If they éome about the house 8o often as to boro the ruling sex, they aro mercilessly killsd and eaten. The spiders €kin is a8 unyieldiug av thé ghells of lobsters and crabs, and id shed from timé fo time in the same way to accommodats the apimal’s growtb. If you poke over the rabbish in & female spider’s back yard, among her cast-off corseta you will find the jscKets of the males who have paid for their sociality with their lives—trophies of her barbarism as truly as scalps show the savage nature of the red man.—Prof. E. 5. Morse. “Q! your nose is as cold as ice,” a Boston father thonght ho heard liis daughter exclaim the ofher evening a8 ho waa reading in' the next roour. Ho walked in for an explanation, but-the young feilow was at one end of the sofx and the girl &6 the other, whilo bothk Iooked 80 innocent snd unconecious that tho' old gentleman con- cluded his ears had dgceived bim, and 8o retired 1from the scene without a word. ‘He blushed a flery red, Her heart went pit-a-pat; She gengly hung her head And looked down stthe mat. He trembled in Lis speech ; Ho rose from where he'sat, And shouted with a screech, “ You're Kifting on my hat!" -According to Birs. Livermore, men have im- proved somewhat in their trestment of women. In_the middle agés wives lived under the con- trol and rod of tlic husband. He bad a right fo beat his wife with & whip or s broomstick, which shows that the broomstick originated in its nse not with women but With men. The clergy had tointerfers in this general wife-whipping. = The clergy, too, origlosted the right known with' ns a= dower. There was one thmg gained by s womim 2t ihis time by marrying, viz., that osly the husbsna had s right to whip them. 1f not married, any one could do 80. The proverbs of that day show the ntmost contempi i which the wife was held, being fall of con- tempt, insolesce, acd absolute ccorn. Some- times the husband wowld carry his sarcasm o veeven. On a gravestone of one wfe. the her husband Had engraved H 5 ‘Here lics my wife, lere liesalig, d Halleljak, Hallelujeo,. |'s msuucan be METROPOLITAN [MDES. Sober Lenten Measures—= Six Weeks of Unusual Gaycty, Painstakingly Plain Dressing-the Order of ~ the Kew Year—Colors, IEaterial, and Style, to Bo Adoy'ed. Certain Exquisite Robes~=<Hand- .Embroidery More than Evér in_Vogue. Gold, Silver, and Oxidyzed Litt:s for Trim- mings---The Latest. Adjuncts to Chatelaine Pendants. From Qur Oun Corresporidént. New Yonk, Jin: 6.—The h:ilidays—to éall them by tha: migtaken name, since to many of us they 476 the hardést-workisg: time of all the year—are well over now, and we are rolling on the social ball as fast a8 may be, kest Lent over- take uS with but balf our wintor's duty done. And Lont js coming painfully edidy this senson; —that'is, for those witode consciace bids them forswear festivity during its continusnco. THors £ro dégreed, however, in the wedring of dackoloth and ashes, and thei’ who would not, for their sould, ddncy a measuro in thé forty aays, hétitate not to dirw: sumptuouslyj while they wlio wonld not dine, )d.use not beforo tlié milder dissipation of rettle~drum or Sunday tess, Itis hard to beliavé thut e roally are miserable sinners; despite our protestations to that effect, and so we comfort ouf seif-love by a gontle dégree of hilirity dating the period whed we arg supposed to bs atoning £bi: our misdeeds. AsT have satd; Lent comeéd do éarly—before the middle of Febraary; in facb—that we have but & émall iatter of six Wéeks in which to be properly gay. This accounts, in n great measure, for tiio uousual nomber of enfestainments of all kinds given id the closing wedlks of last year, when fashionable and unfashionable alike seem- ed filled with 4 epirit of réstiess révelry, and in: vitations poured in showers upoi even thé most unsotial. -~ ;- ELABORATELY SIMPLE RSIMENT. As for-tho dressing this year, it is so elabor- ately simplé, sq pamstakingly plain, that one scarge knows where to bégin ar to end & de- seription. For imstance, 4t an' elegant literary recoption the othér night wiili & gown Eo pe- culiar and g0 rich that only the Jiand of an ariist in mintas would heve dared attoinpt it. p The colors wera white, vary piale cifo-su-iait, and g dolieate; silvery pink ; tlia material, finely- repped gros-grain. The long, Mowing train was of the white silk, borderea bya finger-wids knife-plaiting of the brown, pified on each gido with the pink. Above the Knife-plaiting were three biss bands of the brosm, 8 inches wide, iped on either side vAth pink, ahd glnced Lalf their widi spart. , The overdress is cut o the shape of a:t classic _peplum; wh'kh is_ to say, itis 5’uile #bort in tho front pad bick, haugs in very.decp points on the sides (these are slashed open from their tips to the “waistband), and set on, withont fullness, to the belt. 'The overskirt waa white, fitished by & finger-wide band of the brown, pived on the upper ¢dge with pipk. A neavy silken tassel of the threo colors® tipped each” point of the psplum. The waist, round aud almost deép enough _tc: be called a coreet, was completed by iwo coisls—one brown, one pink—round the bottom ; vks laced behind, and bad Grecian folds—=alterna’sly white and brown, a cord-edgé of piok ehoviing botween thom— across the bosum. 71%he sljaves, coat-shape, had a'doublé cord at the wr¥t (pink and brown), and two bunches of fclis “similar fo thoss on the waist,—oba above and thé other below the elbow.- 'This ia oue of the most singa- lar combinations of shaden I have ever seen, and I think vould bé more Wscoming toa blonde than to thie purs brunetts viho wors it. 3 A DAINTY BMLI-DRESS 5 which appeated at the Ny Yoar's Eve Germat, was made of tuile, shafing all the way from palest dawn-pink to dedpest rose-red. In the first place, there were lialf-a-dozen skirts—the under ono being of the deepeet, the outef of the lightest shade. Then tho outer skirt was cov- ered with thick ruchings of the fulle, beginning ‘with the deepest tint at ‘316 hem, and graduating in width, and softly sbading off to the palest shade at fhe top. ~Tii etfoct produced was of one of thoes beantifmt rosy clonds which ecarly risers sometimes sce just befors munrise. Gailands of pmzcy pink 089 buds and leavés wue festooned all over thiis fluffy dress, ond appesred to form a floral cor~ age, though there relly was o protty, round- necked walct, made principally of the shaded ruchings. The finishirg/s of the robe were as at- tractive ag they were taiiqis, The fan, for in- stance, was of several thicknesses of rose-col- ored tulle, set np on tHicks completely covered by sprigs of rose-levies with a bud at the ond. The chatelaine, from which the fan depende was & long, slender wreath of rosa lesves an buds. The neckluce nnid bracelets were bauds of black velvet with & 5i /516 half-open blossom with leaves caughit to the centre; and a long spray on the coiffure took the place of a comb. THE BEAD-MANIA DYING. Happy am I to relid’e that beads, or rather the mania for them, i8 f:kst dying out. Wo had the ‘mania dangerously ; e applied it to every con- coivable garment, to every possible material, and we are nov likely to énjoy a merited and inevit- able reaction. Bul, to mako up for the de- cadence of besds, the admiration for hand- embroidery in na'miral-colored sitks increases daily ; and rifbtly enough, too, for no more beautiful, or, for that matter, éxponsive, garni- ture cad bé invent&d. 7 HAND-E FDUOIDERED GOWNS. On New Year’s, soverat elogant gilks wrought id this way wefe worn at the receptions ; and, while the majorify were black with bright-hned work, the pretticest of all was a pale-green gros- iin. The trién, beginning at thé sidé-seam on either gide, ~a8 trimmed with throe Lnife- plaitings of tho material, each eight inches wide. These ffounces were plaited in gromps ; for example, ihero would be half-a-yard of tho fiié plaiting. then & plain space eight inchics wide, thon more plaiting, god another plain spacé; and so on round tho train. At tho head of euch of the flounces was embroidered a broad wieath of different kinds of ferns, in their proper hues,—not omitting now and then the sembl inee of & dead one in the soft wood- ‘browns. \Wherever the wreaths passed over the plain spazes on the tlounces, a spray, or rather tangle, c£ ferns was worked down 1nto the space, 88 if it lad drooped from the wreath by sccident. As cach of tbese {falling bunches . was of different design, thera was no effect of tmmeness, .. aod the general result was beautiful. Tho wreaths terminated in large, graceful, waviog groupa of. ferns, whiich sbaded the seam whete they ended. The fadlier had simply three wonderfully-wronght bouiguets of the various ferns,—beginning with the Jargest at tho niiddlo of the. boftom of th fraut breadth,—the_ other two graduating i in sizb and Bhape, worked 8% suitable distances abbre. ‘Maere was no overskirt; none wes needed. Anéi the waist was modest euough : pointed be- Toré, and behind; liced, and high in éha back, wit a slender, gpiated. front, snda garland of the smallest ferds worked round it, ending in & tiny bunch on the bosom. The coat-sleeves had jud. two or thrée forns, apparently tied wiil1 a ribbon, embroidered on the top. 80 SIAIPLE, YET SO COSTLY. Cexcld you :havé seen tho gown, you wonld have How simple!” Had you had to pay for 'ou would bave added: * How costly ! " is reported to biave beeén iri preparation for the last half year. One can readily believe it; for 50 much and eo fine embroidery is.not dooe in a day, or a month; and all of it, except the bexaquets on the front breadth, had to be dons af bor the dress was put together, which must gr datly haveimpeded the progress of workwomen. While, at firtt, it would seem unforiunate that ac g’ fashion 8o vutfiy‘ increasing the cxpenss of dr essing should at this time becoms prominent ; it «doeen’t much matter in this 1nsiance. The m s de is necessarily 80 costly tuat none but the veey rich can hope to adopt it ; moreover, it is reniving an art and enconraging a class of arti- sans that hsd become dearly extinct through 1a H< of patronage. At present, most of the em- brcideiing—like the dress spoken of—is. done or: the other side of the sea; but let a necd arase, and we-shell find no lack of skilled hands in’ our own cities to mors than fill the demend. ODDS AND ENDS. = 37hte most elegant entertainments to be given in'Lent are fisl-dinners and breskiasts. The w hole gamut of shell and other fish will be gode tLinough, and it is quite surprising how elaborate made out with merely the pro- dnbcllg of tho ocean, plus the appropriate vege- tables. ‘Ihie Tatest adjuncts to the chatélaine péndints aro the cassoletto with varlous perfumes, znd & tiny mirror in gold or joweled or enameled frame. Such decorations now stand thnd: Um- brella, watch, and vinaigretts for day-lime and out-of-doors, and vinaigratte, cassoletto, fan; mirror, and bonquet for evening. When ib is found that feminine nature can stand somothing elze, it will undoubtediy be added. Gold, silver, and oxidized laces are the newest thing for trimming ball dresses, and are used both on plain stuffd and on those having metallic threads woven in them. The lace is made from ‘motallié thréad. 2 The loog, fur-lined, black gros-grain circulars that have become 80 popular as carriage-cloaks, to be worn over parly-costumes; ara now fre- quently seop on the etreet in the daytime. Their exceeding comfort commends them toall who can alford td own one; and thers is no reason why they should be rigorously ¢onfifed to even- ing-wear. £ Togo with the wraps just mentioned, are thick button boots, of black broadcloth or flan- nel, and lined with searlet or white flanpel,—the soles composed of mahy thicknesses of hoavy felf. These boota are, to bs sure, véfy ugly to ook upon, but, as they can be put on outside the gilk or satin shoe, and buttoned nearly #o the knée, it will readily be seen how great a protec- tion they afe from the usual cohséquences of thin stockings and shoes in wifiter weather. FinrsELow., HUMOR. The school-ma’am msy not bs & mind-reader, but she makes readers mind. _ Somebody says that King Eoffea-is_a wreck. Somebody, clso says that all Kings are Rex. A Néw York auctioneer complaing that, like Enoch Arden; he sees ‘‘no sale from day to aarn s The riilkmeéfi of 8an Fiaucisco Havé foriiéd a mutual aid association, One holds the can, whils another pumps. Take away my first letter, take away my . sec- ond letter, take away 21l my lettors, and I am till tho same. The postman, A Virconsin man récontly killed alx skrinks i one day, After interviewing the firit oné he be- cama reckless, and su kept on. Mr. Asa Flower is spoken of as & rising man in Texan politics, *Cometh up Ass Fiower " wouldn' be 2 bad motto for him to adopt. 44 Coc-c-cap that'p-p-p-parrot falk ?” asked & stuitering man of & Gérmad. *‘Vea ke don't gk"m gooter as you, I schop; by tam, hij head _ That farmer underttood humean nstucs who gaid: “If you want to keep your b6y at home, don't bear too hard on the grindstone when he turns the crank.” “I don't beliéve,” said Spivend, ‘¢ that I will burt ons of thess chairs. h( blacking my hoots on it.” * I know you won't,” replied his wifo; * as Isban't let you try i Suspicious tailor—* Thers, just siand in that position, please, and look right iipon that ndtice wliflo I take your measure.” Customer reads thie notice: *Terma cash.” A Western poet who had expressed & wish to dis “auiid_ the’ giand sollfddd of thé etérnal mountain-tops ¥ wag killed by theé éxplosion of wpint of cheap kerosono. The Duluth woman whd put the kerosene can on the stove-heartli While ehe went ouf to trade with a peddler. is now keeping house 1n a barn, Lindly Joaned for the cecasion. . Oats may bo #ood to sodlk the datipness out of wet boots, but how miny St. Louis imen csn afford to keep thirty bushels of onts on Katid for that putpose ?—Delroit Free Press. It is geniérally belioved in some of the counties- of Michigan that men will do more plptting and plsiining to fob a lien-coop, than would bie tidces- gary o iweure A successfal bank burglary. A “ddmb” barbér in » New Jersey townis get- ting all the custom, and has been obliged to hire four niuto assistants. Darbers who sré not * dinb ” should cuf thisodt 4ud pasto it on their coat sleeve. An effort is making to naturalize the English -bee in New Zealand. Considering the primitive simplicity of attire of the unsophisti- cated abonigines, it is to be hoped that the ex- periment may fail. ‘* Faith,” gaid an Irishman, who could not get into lus eabin at Ballingarrs, his wife baving turned the key wpon bim, . “ it's meself that's regularly locked in.” *‘In!” said his corapanion in where? * \Why, in the street.” - “We cannot,” writes a contemporary, *im- press to strongly upon all correspondents, whea in- doubt whether the postage of = lefter is a peoay or two pence, the force of the old prov- erb, *Two heads aro better than one.’ ” A thiof was arrested in England the other day who sdmitted his guilt and asked ‘that sécience Do passed a8 a protection to filnigelf and the pub- lic. “For,” eaid he, "it'is 4 térrTblo thing that a fellow Like me should be going about.” ‘“Thoe chitd has since diea,” is tho laconic re- mark which a Pennsyivinia paper sflixes to an account of & 12-year-old girl who had alreidy mastered logic, rhetoric, geology, botany, and the mynteries of mental and moral science, Conversation at breakfast fable: Smith— * Ain’t John rather late in bringing the mail this morning?” Jones—'1 guess there is some- thing on the postal-cards that he don’t under- stand. He'd prooably reading them over twice ! ” The exclamation of an_old lady on hearing of the éxécution of a mian who had dnce livéd in tho neighborhood was: *“Well, I know'd he'd come tb the galiows ut Inst, for the knot in his hand- kercl;\icl was always elipping round under his left enr.” Thdy were just goiug up the steps to the President’s ruagn. fig!:ngthg Senstor éuddenly turned to the applicant for office by his side, and said, * Oh, by the way, what aré your politics?" * Well,” says the offica-seeker, ** I've always been a Democrat, but I can turn.” Of course he could. 5 An exchango tells us that *‘tha law in Minne- sota won't allow father to thrash a child over 16 years old.” In Kentucky itis not the law shat prevents the father from ing a.child over 16 years old. As s general thing the child at- tends fo that liftle maiter himself.—Louisville Courier Journal. An old lady in town has become disgusted with almanacs. She says if all the people in the country were tostop buying almanacs, ¢ maybe the priaters who malke "em would put in some total eclipses of the sun and moon, and some tranaits of Venuses that would be visible here.” Norrislown Herald. At this period of the yeara voice steals at early morn through the key-hole of domestic chambers: *Mary Jane, get up and fix the fire” ; and & prowpt and cheorfal-echo responds : “TIl see you: dodrotted first, and then I won't, you ald brate.” Such are the colestial harmo- miés of domestic life, ¢ It is roported that a man went home' at abont 8 o'clock Wednesday moraing ; and, using his umbrelis for a billiard-cue, smote his sleeping wife in the short rib, crying * Pool!” and sunk into a weet slumbor. Hahas since oxplained to his wife that women can have no idea how the cares of business will sometimes affect a man's birdin, _‘*You havo s pleasant home and a bright fixe- side, with bappy chillren sitting around it, baven’t you ?” said the Judge. *Yes, sir,” said Mr. Thompson, who thought he saw a way ont of the difficulty. ““Well,” said toe Julge, **if the happy children sit aromnd the cheerful firesido until you retarn, they will stay there just forty- thrée days, as I ghall have t6 send you up for that tim Cincinnali Times. The Lind of whisky they -have in ’Frisco: ““After that the clolh was took off, and the liquors war bro'tit. Add wot Ii(}uor- they wuz. too! The wlisky wuz none o' this yer kind that makes o man feel like seyin': ‘I kin lick any son of a gun in the,house,’ and makes him smash things ginerally: No, sif. It war the kind that jist makes a man Lift his glass up gint- ly,and says: *Joe, old pard, I'm lookin® at yer.'” Yesterday, while some negro steamboat men ‘were being paid off, the Olerk inquired of each ong as ho came to sign the pay-roll: “Will you write your tiame or make an X?" Tho first one said hé- could write his natno, and the pen was handed to him. He looked at the pen, scrutin- ized the pay-roll, and hesitsted so long that the Clerk poked him up. ‘¢ Let'ssee,” mused the darkey, 28 he looked up at the clock: “1t's now 10 o‘clock, and as I've got to meet a foller at the City Hall at noon, I guess I won't write my name, but Tll pat down an X."—Delroil Free | Press. A Fronchrman was about to be haoged for a criminal offense; as there was no_profeazional executioner available for the. occasion, the pain- ful duty of carrying out tke sentence devolved n an amateur, who apologized for possible shortcomings to' the 'i‘xm'ion pnMipd ly con- corned. *‘I hops yow'll pardon me,” said he, {*if I put you to any nnnccesdary inconvenience } bt the fact is, I have never hanged auy one be- fore.” *+Pray do not mention it,” replied the otber, witli the greatest eangfroid. * For that matter, 1 bave mever been bangod: before. We | must each do our bess.” 3 | i A MANAGERIAL CAREER, - Related by thé Manager, Written jor The Chicaco}Tribuné, They aro only just across the glass-coversd court, triese lawyers, Scrivoer & Son, and, look: ing throuysh tlse window 6f my ‘door ind ihierce through thd windotr of thetr door; I ciu ses thein at any hotir of the dhy busy with their db- stracts, court-papers, snd chents, Tt 8 poubibly & fooliski habit T have fallén iato, iBat of observing pecple and building ia my mind plots and counter-plots concermng them; and the Fire mixed us up 80 Lere in Chicago, that 28 we aro getting shook down by qerasslty #nd settled by time, and thave ah oo~ casional momént to look about 48, we find that o are id strangd company; whils & senss of lonelifiess, if our Wik is of 4 chatadter to give us léietire to thik abont it &€ all, comés upon us; and we wonder wiat have become of the old firms whick kepb us. companyin the cob- webbed shells that made such a bright light not & very long time ago; and where on earthi &l these rlew fifths, réspleridént in their bronze, gili-iettering, and expensive appolntments, cama from? So it was ip this way that I came to ruminate over {ho affiiits of Serivner & Son; and it struck my fancy that there was something in the manly; confidential way in which they camo up the stairs, walking arm in arm to their offices door, then passing inside to their work; quite outsidé the tsail mannéf of miny ofliéf Chicd- go fathers nod sons, and especially of limbs 1 bave noticed that they are 6ot whelmingly givén toeither civility or affectionate demonstration. And I would have it that there was a story at tho bottom of it all, I a great office building liké ours men will meet and pass each otler; and it was not long before an opportiihity Fas offered to show the Junior member-of this faw firm somefslight civ- ility, which was acknowledged with such good grace that it cculd not but lead to an amo- quantance, und eventually t0 an intimacy which has resulted in young Scrivner, as regular asthe evening comes; and the light and shadows begin Playing &t their daily hide-snd-seek, *dropping in ¥ for & half hour's chat over oar peimy-pipes 4and cavendieh, untl we have become friends and confidants. < He loves to talk, does Scrivner, and he runs on in such an irresistably reckless way, that Lis pipe goes out; but he would talk straight at the glow in tha bowl of my pipé while I hstened, for wo never lit the gas in these quist, weird times when I wsited for what I knew would come 's:xnéet or later; and here itis just as he rattled itoff: ; . Yés, Bob (my familiar tifle); you may be sure there'is & very warm affection existing between my father and myself. You may be quite sure ofit. Iam sometimes painod by most unjust remarks coucérning it. Bat the fact of its existence, what léd to_and ‘cemented it. and its resulf, have come fo be very sacred memories nfl blessed réalizations with me. . 1 know it would be tedious to you to know how it all csme about until 1 became a theatrical manager; how my fathier was formerly 2 coun- try Justico, farmer, lawyes, polificisn—and gen- tleman, too; how I wus precocions i deviltry from my earliest remembrance; hiow I led st “‘huskings” and ‘- eurpriges,” and won' first- prizes at Sundiy-school, and played poker with the I‘::\rson’u son in the belfry dariop service ; how I became too sdvanced it 'my ideas for the quaint community in which we lived, and start= ed for tho summer-land. Somewhero, my father 8Gon after overtaking a aud thrashing me until I prayed for the land, Nowhere; how I gradu- ated at the village acsdemy by almost murdering the master with s poker, . ana, as a compromise between begging his pardon and prosecution, waa Imstled away to a seminary. I think I shall always remémber how life loomed up before me as it never had before and 1d of fear and dread of its possibilities, 1 164 thé school ws: gob magnificently drunk, and then led & part;” who screwed up the professors, hung the Presidint in effigy on the chapel rostrum, and then held a grand revel 1n tbe old dining-room uutil day. Thosé of us whose bills were pzid in advance wers expelled. Then 1 rashed—1 alwass rushed then—into the army, and for three ysars danced a staccato to rattling bullets. Then I come homs; justas I began 1o like tho busmees, ard whether it was bocauss I bad changed, or 1n that time every- thing can change, I could not béar old asocia- tions, and thiogs lookéd mesn and small to me. I went to collego; feil in love; Bob, that brought on & worse disease—poetry, and I rush- ed at that, too. I knew you wonld never have suspected it of me. I assure you I havn's the leaat teint of the disorder Hogering about me 8. Well, & book must bo written; and one was written. I believé I called it 4 Summer Idyl. One criti¢ remarked that it was replete with evidences of idleuess. There wera just six of those **idyls” sold outright; and do you know, Bob, I have always hod: & curiosity Te- garding the fate of those six mild lunatic par- ‘chasers. You may imagine this unhingéd me; ‘but that huge, indefinable desire to do some im- mense thing at one stroke—to make some mag- nificent Eucsess oub of" & single efort, which wns my misforfune, and is 80 many, many others’ rain, was_tho forco that moved mé; and, after secaring o large sum of money from my father with which to pay my debts, I suddeuly disappeared, and next camo to surface as Regin: Guial among the Cguper” and “ntility” men at the old Museum on Randolph street. I strode around there with big eyes and dilated nostrils until Aiken quietly informod me that my style waa a thought too werfal for “society ” plays and comedies, and inted at success in the ‘‘heavies.” Yhad sense enough to know what be meant, but folt wronged ahd humiliated ; for had I not written & book, and was I not the son of & man to whom custom and the Legislature gave the proud title of “Honorable" ? 'Things like these wers crush- ers, Bob, 4 Well, I loft for parisuoknown, as the news- papers say, finally turning :fl‘“ Buiffalo, where I mot one of thosé decommodating young gentle- men we read of & good deal when the reporters are hard up for ‘‘locals,” with' whom was shortly arranged, and all imperceptibly to my- gelf, a little schome for irregular trade between Her Majesty’s Provinces and thé Statea. Bob, I pledge you my word I cannot tell yon, nor do 1 know kow it all came about; and the subsequent events are as vague and indistinct 28 though I had read or dreamed of them s long, long timo ago. Btill I remember that we had yachts which plied to and fro the darkest of nights_botween two points about 4 miles above Port Huron and Sarma; that I felt every inch the dotestible smuggler thatI was; and'that 1 suddenly becams rich,—as load of gold and guilt that was slovly murdering me. One night when I was alone in charge of a yacht-load of silk bound for the States’ side, and had several thonsand dollars on my person, —Inever iad much confidence in my partner, Bob; he was rather too gracefnl to me for a stranger,—we had reached o within about 40 rods of our point of landicg when a patrol-boat pushed out rapidly, and an officer ordered us to round to. If Icould then have been as thougl I had never been; if I could have conmfincd my< xelf to utter oblivion, I would bave 2 premely happy in one_moment’s contemplation of swift and utter aunihilation, for the faces of my friends,—oh, such sad and roproving faces !— were there then. : They agzin yelled “ Round to!™ and began firing at us. I answered ¢ Aye, aye, sir!” Baut, Bob, I “rounded " the other way. Turning the boat to & closer tack, I hurnedly told my men for God’s sake, when her nose bumped, to jump for their lives and make for the lumber camps, which they did, diverting pursuit; while I flew, rather than ran, to Port Huron, reaching it just as the Grand Trunk ferry-boat was pushing off ; jumped frantically for thie bost ; missed it (acci~ dentally, of course); aund was fished out of tho river an unforlunale through-ticke, passenger Jfroni Chicago lo Buffalo ! Those sympathizing passengers raised me 280 before the boat reached Sarnia ; and—and I took it, too. Eventually arriving at Rochester, I repréesent myzelf as a prominent member of the * profes- sion ” from Chicago, and secured an engage- menttodo * juveniles” at the Opera-House. This venture proved a greater failure than the Summer Idy! and Museum veniure. Then L traveled in Earope, without sim or purpose, and finally returned to Chicago, impaired in health, benkiupt in parse, anddebauched with broken re- golves and ambitions,—for, Bob. therois nothing which will #0 8wiftly demesn and debase & man breaking faith mith himself,—to find- & love wa careless and cold i friends hanghty and istant ; and feel that the sight of all old faces and familiar things had with' them sa unbear- able reproach ; while the very air I.breathed waa oppreasive with its gift of bister life. That dear old father of mine would have stood Dby me even after all this; but I repulsod hum,— ecn gu-1) bratally, shamefully’ repulsed him,—and hs lefi ms with a n- and s face likea ghoat. You see my £tyle was of the grand order vot; and you see theré was tomoe a grain of humiliation init, and I would hive borne s hundred mean humilistions first. I made & desperate effort to Tight myself in the wrong way, and after secur- ing s respectsble * wardrobe’” and haviog studied up my old “lines ” pretty thoroughly, started in for another tilt with Thespis at for- tune. Bob; it didn’t take. The critics went so farasto intimato thatI wasa “*stick,” and poor one at that. But this stage business seem- ed my last resort, and I clung to iz as tonaciously ag Ldid to mg Tmeanness &nd air-castles. Contemptible as they show me to have besn, Baob, I have gono over théss things to show you my ability and special fitness to assums the care snd responsibility 6f organizing and managing the Grand Star Combination Comipany. This wis about the fime the Dearbarn Theatre waz completed, aud & little florid, bald-beaded wmsn by the name of Jones, from Boston, was the manager. He was enzaging s new company throughout. I had aseaulied all the other Chi- cago managers without success, and, Bob, this was mhy only hope. I secared an iotersiow with this Jonea &t his horel, and came flacly to busi- ness. ‘' Mr. Jones, I wish to do your ‘juveniles.’” This Boston man,—And I ‘have “had a kind of grudge against Boston ever since for it,—torned his weak, bleary eyes upon me ferociously, com~ mencod at my foes, and took in all the territory to my uppérmost bair, slowly reversed the in- spection, and then said witir a pounce: - “*You tiave tho liberty of the door, gir!" L had heard, or read, thas Thackersy once ap- plied tv' Dickens to illustrais one of his earlier works, and, being rofusod, said: “If you will not lat me sketch, il write.” It came to me like a flash, ~nd raising myselt from tho blow to my fullest height, I hurled a: him with ail the meagre thunder of my best practiced voice, *If | You won't let me act, I'll manage!” and, with the conventional stage stride and slide, mads o magnificent * exit,” as he smiled and mildly mur- mured, *Manage, and bed—dto you!"” Ay fato was decided. I wascommitted to a managerinl career ; and from that moment I was to all per- sons the stern, brusque unapprozchable, the demi-god tneatrical manager. To this day I cannot go back to that time, thongh so zecent, and classify the emotions and experiences which came to me. I know that I was a gigantic frand, aa many other managors are; bat, after the cir- cumstances of that morning had estsblished their consequences, they follgwed naturatly and in order. _After the fact of my project became known, I suddenly found . mysolf the ceutrs of interest toa vast mumber of dissatisfied * artists,” who were in many instances; I must say, good actors; but the horde of * sticks,” ‘“supes,” and ballet-girls that infest every large city, skirmishing around thestres and concetf-halle, living, God only knows where and how, thai began renovating old boot- tops, soiled tarlotans, and other defunct * prop- erties,” and besieged me for *engagements,” could only be numbered by ona who could count the atars or gather the leaves in autumn, I had never before felt that thrilling intoxication in- dulged in by the managerial and journalistic pro- fession, of " wielding absolule power ; had never experienced the sublime satisfaction of compel- ling,better men than myself to humble, disclose, and abase themselves befors me, that their ap- plications might seem the more menial, and their refusal the more bitterly unfeeling; and ma; heaven forgive me for the crael ediots that fel from my mansgerial lips! fufiOb' I copied the masters of this science faith- y. As I told you, the firm's name was Guial & Damsham. Quial had been my stage pama. Yoa will always find that stsge.struck persons are either too ashaméd, or proud, of their real vames to use them. Damsham wea eatirely a fiction. He stood for the bauk; stood mine, too. My first transaction was at the printer’s. Orders for elaborate letter-heads and cards,—for you see the thing must bave a solid and aristocratic air about it,—half-sheet block letters, and treble- sheet postérs, away up info the thousands, yere given. An sdyance-agzent was secured, a score or so ‘‘opera-houses” lessed, and the roufe billed in & most magaificent style. A5 my scheme—so far 88 it was developed— was maatérly, so was I épicurean in the solec- tion of my peoplo. Guial & Damsham’s Grand Combination was not to belie its billing, My ‘waste-basket carelessly held the fates of hum- dreds, and hospitebly received countless appli- cations spurred info eloquence and bad speiling by the agouy of unsatistied ambition (like my gw;z), or the keener scourgoe of pressing board- itle. Bat at Iaat tho time had arrived for the depar- ture of the Grand Star Combination Company. My purse was empty, and my leading lady, of whom Ihad infoimed the public in glowingstyle, and upos whom I most depended for compelling applause and shekels, had not arrived as engag- ed. Partahad been assigned and rehearsed; trunks were packed ; everything but fwo things —my leading lady and money—ready. The next morning, should she not come, wo would bs whirling away to the West to bankruptey and rain. During my ehort lease of snobbish power it had not cometo the managerial mind that mistakes of this kind might occar, but now, as they stared me in the face, I was balf frantic. I rushed to the Western Union Telegraph Office, 4nd aftor doing an immense business, sending messazes to Buffalo, Rochester, Albany, New York, and to Brooklyn, whero she resided, re- ceivad the reply: “ Your company a fraud. Shall retain hundred dollars bonus for trouble.” ‘When I fully realized what relation that an- swer bore to my affairs at that time. I was all but crazed. MMy first impulse was to deliver my- self up to the doubtful merciesof my deluded compuniv;. Ic was too much. I couldn’t do it, Bob. Beinga moral coward, I couldan’t do it The next, was for money, flight, and for some other huge enterprige. I wai then on the corner of Clark and Lake streets. Isaw by a jaweler's clock—my watch had been ‘‘spouted "—that there wero fifteen minutes before the last train would leave on the Wisconsin Division of the Ohicago & Northwestern Railroad ; and I plung- ed for the Kinzio street dapot. Bob, I was goiog home! Erory cent had goue iato that telegraph com- peoy’s safe; and I put blind trust in coanco to meet some old conntry-friend who would loan me my fare, or in the doubtful charity of some con- ductor who might pass me on the strength of my father's acquaintance on the road. And yet, desperate and reckless as I waa that night ; seek- ing the assmstance of that father whom I had repulsed and crueily wronged ; humble as I was, and willing to beg a pattry sum of a simple vil- Iager, or do anything to secate the means which 1 must have ; there was not that in my theatric heart to acknowiedge an iota of wrong or obliga- tion; and I already hated the man who should help'me. Heaven forgivome! but at that very nioment the little village in which I had first seen the light was placarded from side- walk to chimney with my brilliant lies; and even tho littls church where T had received my first instructions in pietyfrom the parsop, and in poker, from his son, bore ev- idence upon its doors of Thespian sacrifege, for my design was to have appealed to the solicitude | and abundant curiosity of my old friends, and the little opera-house was to have welcomed the Grand Star Combination on the very nett evening. You see, I knew it would draw, Bob, and that the country-folks for miles and miles around with whom I was acquainted, and .had oncs been a favorite, woald throng to sce # Squire's ” son who had turned out bad, and sat- isfy themselives for montbs after hi chilling their firesides with awfcl surmises of his depraviiy, and prophecies concerning its result. Ay father, though practicing here, still lived at she Junctiow, and was attending some chan- cery cases at Goodstock, the county-seat, a few miles down the road towarda the city; and, I had reason to believe, would return fo his home on the same train ; my 8wiftly-formed purpose being to_overtake him at Goodatock : secare a few bundred dollars 1f possible, and return to Chicago on the next down-train; in this way avoiding a Scene at home, or the perplexity of explanation to the inquisitive importunities of my fellow-townsmes, * The great firm of Guinl & Damsham was bavk- rupt. That pight I would bave murdered, if necessary, for money. ¢ Istaggered into my seat in the conchlike a drusken maon. ‘Clang! clang!"—* Clang !" and then out into the storm. Oh, how it raged and beat and reached its devilish cluiches as if 1o tear the train from the track if but to secare the cowardly, cringiog thing within ; and how I moaned all to myself aud shrank into my corner a8 if deserving and fearing punishment. Bob, Ifancy one can go mad from his own volition, or for want of it, a8 you like ; and if I ‘was ever on the verge of the lunatics’ ghost-land of living death, it was that mght. Batafter a little ime I alept. Ten years of my life not to have slept ! A terrible murderous somelhing everywhere pursniog. Great heaps of gold with which to purchase rest, but ever failing to grasp it. Then alul and & whispered echo of some old-time Sabbath song and the touch of the hands which had onca thrilled me, ever changing toa demon's grasp that seemed to wrench my very exustence from me. A sunshing; a darkmess. Every- thing ; nothing. Yet this something ever pur- suing. There Iwas bound to the track and the pitiless storm beat me into the very road-bed, while on came the train thundering out destrao- tion. Ifelt the ties tingle—Bok, it was so real Icanalmost feel them now! and the rails be- came sStreams of molien iron. On came the train lixe & fiery monster until its hot breath touched me sud then the warning ery— “Ticketal” . Iawakened with s bound as the conductor shook me, and saw ab & glance the derisivo smiles of fellow-passengers who had witnessed m) theatric contortions ; while in front of me sati benign old gentleman who turued partially and shaded bis eyes with an evening paper to catch 1 glimpse of the unfortunate condensation of tht Grand Star Combinstign Compaay. * Come, come!” gaid the conductor with supplementary shake. Ia that horrible sleep I bad lost my very iden- tity, and, thongh realizing everything around me, I was as limp and disorganized as if fiterally torn and battered by the demon elements with which I had conterded in my dreams. Tho in- teresting realistic question, ** Wh'r'-ye-go'n’; 'n- wh'r's-y'r-ticket 2" found me attempting a mute appealtotho old gentleman Wwho was etill in- quisitively surveying me, and who, understand. 1ng the same, imnlediately produced his wslilel and paid my fare, as he remarked, **to my jour- ney's end; and the poor fellow-creature must look to Providence for the rest!" ‘Théd conductor pasdéd on with a growl of dis. comfiture at losing an opportnnify to put “a poor fellow-creaturo” off the train; while the old gentleman, who now possessed a kind of charitable ownership over me, a3 one will feel justified in Licking or careseing a dog’'be hun fed, adjusted his spectacles, aud, placing. his discngaged hand on my shoulder a8 & prelude to foreclosing his spiritnal mortgage, congbed, re- adjusted his glasses, and looked mo full in the faco. &zu}es of my youthfal terrors ! it was my old pastor. **Yes, it’s me,” I said gruffly, anticipating dis- covery. And drunk, Scrivner ? " berinquired, Aa naual,” I replied. . Now, this was o deliberafe libel on the firm: but I chose to hxve him muse on his favorits theme of total depravity, rather than to moralize mo into murdering lum. He rested his head in his hsnd h‘x? a moment and groaned audibly ; than 2s if hid'sacerdotal bounty had becn waste and he haa cast hig p2arls beforé an unapprect- ative swine, but which conld not bully nim out of propounding 3 few missionary contmdrunys, he drew = copy of the villago paper from hi¢ pocket, and, pointing to my donble-feadec ‘“‘puffs,” asked if they weto the fruitsof my early training? 1 eaid they tvere ; and promptly the honor of presenting kim on¢ of my clegastly gotten-np complimen- taries.” The iwputation in my reply ro- garding my early training, which hsd iz part been Lus evangelical mission, and he impudence in offering him a complimentary to an entortain- ment 80 nngodly, 86 horritied the good man that ho turned from e in sanctified disguss; and the train tore ajong in the Atorm. Bob, a8 I eat there utterly desolate, yot dog- gedly desperate, the wild thouzht of some new and bolder écheme; the swilt resolvéa to do something to retrieve myself at one great eort of my whole being, followed in turn acd over- como by hate, and fear, and sbame: yet all overwhelmed by the awfal resolation within me to have money, at whatever cost—horrifies me i?:xul now, when, thank God! I am o far from At 1ast wa reacbed Goodstock, but my ¢oward- 1y heart failed me, and X only sat passive in my seat. moaning a kind of accompaniment to tlie storm. I knew my father was oh that train. 1 feltit, But I put off that meeting, éven to my moan soul bitterly painful, ds long as I could, out of some sort of pity for him. “Marvard Junction ; twenty minutes for sap- per!” yelled the subsidized brakexan; and through the peiting sleet and svow, glintiogs of light shone from cheery homes 3 whils away up the guarded from the storma by great elrs and -moples, -was wmy home; nesiling under its quaint gables and behind its broad porches, quite comfortable and satisied withont me, I imagived; and I hated it. 'The trdin tore info thé Juriction, and the hungry passengors roshed towards she open doors were tke corpulent ¥ Judge™ was stand- ing to welcome each with & warmth of hosprializy ever dreamed, and read, of, but naver éxyeri- enced, Bob, £0 fully g8 at ths old Jdockon cat- ing-hoase. - But the clamor of the pondsrons gong, the suggzestive rattle and clattér in the great dining-buil, or the familiar faces of th conventionally-lottering villagers, wero of ut liftle interest fo me as the Hlakes which #wep! from the Ditter sky. Dat one face éoula I sazie out; but one poor,;humiliated, sorrowing forre could I entertain for an instant, and that one only with that hellish, overwholming greed for money, money, money't 7 Dartiog Lither and, thither ; rushing tha crowd like a magman ; hastily inq shrinking from recognition; st Jast I p upon him with o curse as he turned insto the deserted street. “Is it you?” It was sn aptmized groan rather than a question ; and he chrank from me besides. “Yes ; and pow no noneénse. I must bave 2500 before the dowi-train, or thercll b muarder here before morning!™ Wasnt I brave, Bon? . Kot a motion, of a murmur, of & mozn ; but just a closer, tremulous gathering of the lices over the poor, pale face, Then ha zail in_a low voice, a3 if the old dreams and fears fof me, which had all swept away by my ingratitude ond roekle , were passing beforo him, and a8 if tho weizht from ik all was more than he could bear: * My God ! has it come to thid 2" and bedged of m¢ to do nothing rash, and &. rvilely asked whero he could meet mo in an hour. Itold lim by the main signal-light ; and, ag he turned from me with a piteously-apnealing look, the great theatric firm vouchsafed :uothat curse. and jvtimated that it medns ** business.” DBob, this was my home, appesling to me through & thousand sacred associations; tha only place on earth where I was cated for, or that, despite my suicidal course, still held for me a kindly remembrance. And yét thero wag that in my black beart to have struck it from existence. Evervwhsre 1 turncd something greeted me with the old look, as if to win me back to it; but I cursed it, a8 T had my father. From évery available board or part of store- front the legond, “‘Grand Star Combination Company,” leered ont o bittor tamnt, and hid fnmifiu' things, 283 my iarcical, unwortby life had usurpeéd overy good thing in me, and buricd that hope of man, the betier memories.of their youth. : It was but a little while befors ho returned and under the signal-light counted out to me $180. I clatched it as though it was fortune’s thront. Then he caid, pitecusly, * 3fy son, itjs 8o late that this is ali I can do for iou to-night. 1t I—if I could do more, I—I would!” And then that man, my father, could bear it all no longer, and sobbed like the broken heart that he was. Bob, the old Junction always comes back to me ag it looked then ; and if I ehould live 500 years: I could never efface the picturs of that heartless son, that dear old father, his whole life shadowed and desolate by my presence, and that bitter night of January, 1870. But Bob,—and I can say it in favor of soma ity that was left in me,—I couldn’ see thoxs ears, the first I had ever scen upon my father's face, and remain thers ; and'I felt a weakners in my own eycs, a heavy sepsation where men’s hearts are, and, God knows, fora moment, I could have tbrown myself at his festand begzed him to forget the ingrate and forgive the son. But I was not yet divested of my Grand Star Combination qualities ; besides, I had gof the ‘money, and, with my cowardly xouls Iran away into the pight. Idonot fmow. I never knew, whero I weut, or how ; but Ido know that my develish instinct led me back and put me on board the down-train, which bore me swiftly awsy, 23 [ caught a glimpse of a form that I knew, shrinkiog from sight, yet peering with a father's agooy of anxiety, and a father’s solicitade of love, after the disappearing remnant of Grand Star Combination Company., ‘There is but & little more, Bob. Thongh the poople came in from the country by hundreds for a grand gala-vight, Guial & D; s Com- pany did not appear at the little opera-house. -On the down-train I again_ slept in a Parde- moninm of fancies where a leading lady was do- ing theatrical duty submissively; where a gray- Laired parson applauded vociferously; where tie corpulen} ** Judge™ of the Junction esting-house was o pimble comedian; whers all the actors ‘wore the masks ot familiar faces; where all the Programmes were monstrons greanbacks; and, on account of a broken rail, awoke twenty-four hours Iater—at home ! 1 don't like to talk about that part of it, Bob; in fact, I don't remember much about it. Dat the dear girl who is now my wife was there ; wy father aud motber were there,—well, I dida’s know before how near a man may comse to being smashed into jelly, and live; how counniderats and tender every one can be_to a poor devil trembling in the balance of Life and Death: and how such s g{‘i‘numg 28 I got on the Chicago & Northwestern Railrocd will change s fellow’s ideas regarding Grand Star Combinations. Scrivner laid his pipe inita place on the mantel sat musing with his eyes on the grate for 2. f minates; shuddered a littlo as another January storm _whispered some ghostly things to us through the window-panes; put oo his hat and greatcoat slowly; grasped my band and held it a moment without saying a word, which [ knew meant ** Good-night; and God bless van!” and passed out into the storm. Buinot as he had donpé as Reginald Guial, the manager, a fow years before; for in & half-hour he felt a loving wife's arms abont his neck ; her kiss upon his lips; aad a decision {rom the chsnceryof Love, a curiy-headed, year-old Sorivner cuddung in Sesive Epaas L. Waxxuux, mer'slsp.