The business woman of to-day refuses to be a moon revolving around a masculine earth—she will be a twin star or nothing. Ibelieve her industrial training will make her a better wife, for she will know the value of a dollar and be able to sympathize with her husband in his daily toil.She will apply business methods to domestic economy. Should her husband attempt to maltreat her, she has courage enough to separate from him and return to self-support. What she has done once she can do again. Being fearless and decided, she will be respected and well treated. The broader outlook she has acquired in the business world will make her a superior wife and a more capable mother.The era of feminine imbecility and cowardice is passing away, and in its place we see about us a new age of well-rounded, exalted womanhood.
The business woman of to-day refuses to be a moon revolving around a masculine earth—she will be a twin star or nothing. Ibelieve her industrial training will make her a better wife, for she will know the value of a dollar and be able to sympathize with her husband in his daily toil.
She will apply business methods to domestic economy. Should her husband attempt to maltreat her, she has courage enough to separate from him and return to self-support. What she has done once she can do again. Being fearless and decided, she will be respected and well treated. The broader outlook she has acquired in the business world will make her a superior wife and a more capable mother.
The era of feminine imbecility and cowardice is passing away, and in its place we see about us a new age of well-rounded, exalted womanhood.
The New YorkSundoes not agree with Mr. Scudder. In the course of an editorial on the subject it says:
It may be remarked that nobody who enters into a partnership of any sort can expect to retain absolute personal freedom. The rule is equally true in business and marriage. The attempt to exercise absolute personal freedom by one or both partners is pretty sure to result in disaster to any enterprise of any description.But this is not the main point. Mr. Scudder's most serious fallacy lies in the notion that in any healthy marriage relation the woman is non-self-supporting and the mere "beneficiary of man." The proposition is as absurd as it would be to say that the member of a law firm who pleads in the courts is a mere tender, a mere appendage, a mere beneficiary of the gentleman who sits in the office, sees the clients, and collects the bills, or that the expert engineer at the head of a steel plant is a mere tender to the man who manages the finances of the concern.Nobody earns his or her livelihood more honorably or more directly than the wife and mother of a family who does her duty. She is her husband's business partner in a phase of his life which is at least as vital to his interests as the outside one by which he makes his money under the eye of the world. If the couple are partners in a poor and struggling concern, the wife contributes as much to the general success by the work of her hands as the man does by his; if they are more fortunate, and prosperous, the woman's busy brain contriving and ruling in the household is earning by earnest, eager, expert, and honorable exertion as good a livelihood as the husband is able to provide her with.The law holds good in the realms of wealth and luxury. The woman who creates and maintains an eminent social position for her family is likely to be her husband's most important ally, and her share of all the benefits that they enjoy in common is not a mere gratuity; it does not come to her from her husband's bounty; it is her compensation for the services she does in advancing the interests of the alliance.
It may be remarked that nobody who enters into a partnership of any sort can expect to retain absolute personal freedom. The rule is equally true in business and marriage. The attempt to exercise absolute personal freedom by one or both partners is pretty sure to result in disaster to any enterprise of any description.
But this is not the main point. Mr. Scudder's most serious fallacy lies in the notion that in any healthy marriage relation the woman is non-self-supporting and the mere "beneficiary of man." The proposition is as absurd as it would be to say that the member of a law firm who pleads in the courts is a mere tender, a mere appendage, a mere beneficiary of the gentleman who sits in the office, sees the clients, and collects the bills, or that the expert engineer at the head of a steel plant is a mere tender to the man who manages the finances of the concern.
Nobody earns his or her livelihood more honorably or more directly than the wife and mother of a family who does her duty. She is her husband's business partner in a phase of his life which is at least as vital to his interests as the outside one by which he makes his money under the eye of the world. If the couple are partners in a poor and struggling concern, the wife contributes as much to the general success by the work of her hands as the man does by his; if they are more fortunate, and prosperous, the woman's busy brain contriving and ruling in the household is earning by earnest, eager, expert, and honorable exertion as good a livelihood as the husband is able to provide her with.
The law holds good in the realms of wealth and luxury. The woman who creates and maintains an eminent social position for her family is likely to be her husband's most important ally, and her share of all the benefits that they enjoy in common is not a mere gratuity; it does not come to her from her husband's bounty; it is her compensation for the services she does in advancing the interests of the alliance.
Great Possibilities Lie Ahead for Us ifWe Take the Lead in Teaching theChinese Western Ways.
Dr. Edmund J. James, president of the University of Illinois, favors the appointment of an educational commission for the study of the social, intellectual, and industrial situation in China. The reasons for his suggestion are contained in a memorandum which he recently submitted to President Roosevelt, and may be briefly stated as follows:
A great service would be done to both countries if the government of the United States would at the present juncture send an educational commission to China, whose chief function should be to visit the imperial government, and, with its consent, each of the provincial governments of the empire, for the purpose of extending through the authorities of these provinces to the young Chinese who may desire to go abroad to study a formal invitation on the part of our American institutions of learning to avail themselves of the facilities of such institutions.China is upon the verge of a revolution. Every great nation of the world will inevitably be drawn into more or less intimate relations with this gigantic development. It is for them to determine, each for itself, what these relations shall be—whether those of amity and friendship and kindness or those of brute force and the mailed fist. The United States ought not to hesitate as to its choice in this matter.The nation which succeeds in educating the young Chinese of the present generation will be the nation which, for a given expenditure of effort, will reap the largest possible returns in moral, intellectual, and commercial influence.
A great service would be done to both countries if the government of the United States would at the present juncture send an educational commission to China, whose chief function should be to visit the imperial government, and, with its consent, each of the provincial governments of the empire, for the purpose of extending through the authorities of these provinces to the young Chinese who may desire to go abroad to study a formal invitation on the part of our American institutions of learning to avail themselves of the facilities of such institutions.
China is upon the verge of a revolution. Every great nation of the world will inevitably be drawn into more or less intimate relations with this gigantic development. It is for them to determine, each for itself, what these relations shall be—whether those of amity and friendship and kindness or those of brute force and the mailed fist. The United States ought not to hesitate as to its choice in this matter.
The nation which succeeds in educating the young Chinese of the present generation will be the nation which, for a given expenditure of effort, will reap the largest possible returns in moral, intellectual, and commercial influence.
When a man is in the full flower of health and intellectual activity, his utterances, either guarded or careless, usually are more or less tinctured by his social environments—environments that are rather more artificial than natural. But when the shadow of death falls upon him, and earthly vanities crowd out of the chamber that is marked as the vestibule of his tomb, the language he speaks is that of the man himself—one who realizes that he is nearer eternal truth than human pretense. For this reason the last words he speaks on earth are more significant of his true character than any he has spoken before. No better proof of this fact may be adduced than is to be found in the following collection of sentences uttered by dying men:
Adams, John(1735-1826), American statesman: "Jefferson survives."Adams, John Quincy(1767-1848), American statesman: "This is the last of earth! I am content!"Beethoven, Ludwig van(1770-1827), German composer: "I shall hear now!" (He was deaf.)Bozzaris, Markos(1790-1823), Greek patriot: "To die for liberty is a pleasure and not a pain."Brooks, Phillips(1835-1893), American clergyman: "I am going home."Byron, Lord(1788-1824), English poet: "I must sleep now."Charles Iof England (1600-1649): "Remember."Charles IIof England (1630-1685): "Don't let poor Nelly (Nell Gwynne) starve."Chesterfield, Lord(1694-1773), English courtier: "Give the doctor a chair."Columbus, Christopher(1440-1506), Italian navigator: "Lord, into Thy hands I commit my spirit."Cowper, William(1731-1800), English poet: "Feel? I feel unutterable, unutterable despair. What does it signify?"Cromwell, Oliver(1599-1658), English statesman: "My desire is to make what haste I may to be gone."Franklin, Benjamin(1706-1790), American philosopher: "A dying man can do nothing easy."Frederick the Greatof Prussia (1712-1786): "We are over the hill. We shall go better now."Gilbert, Sir Humphrey(1539-1583), English navigator: "We are as near heaven by sea as by land."Gladstone, William Ewart(1809-1898), British statesman: "Amen."Goethe(1749-1832), German poet: "Open the shutters and let in more light."Greeley, Horace(1811-1872), American journalist: "It is done."Hale, Nathan(1755-1776), American patriot: "I only regret that I have but one life to give to my country."Havelock, Henry(1795-1857), English general: "Tell my son to come and see how a Christian can die."Henry, Patrick(1736-1810), American orator and patriot: "Here is a book (the Bible) worth more than all others ever printed; yet it is my misfortune never to have found time to read it. It is now too late. I trust in the mercy of God."Holmes, Oliver Wendell(1809-1894), American poet and prose-writer: "That is better, thank you." (To his son, who had just assisted him to his favorite chair.)Humboldt, Friedrich von(1769-1859), German savant: "How grand these rays! They seem to beckon earth to heaven."Jefferson, Thomas(1743-1826), American statesman: "I resign my spirit to God and my daughter to my country."Julian(331-363), Roman emperor: "O Galilean, Thou hast conquered!"Keats, John(1795-1821), English poet: "I feel the daisies growing over me."Latimer, Hugh(1485-1555), English reformer: "Be of good cheer, brother; we shall this day kindle such a torch in England as I trust shall never be extinguished." (To Nicholas Ridley, who was burned with him.)Lawrence, James(1781-1813), American naval officer: "Don't give up the ship."Louis XIIIof France (1601-1643): "There come to me thoughts that torment me."Louis XIVof France (1638-1715): "I thought dying had been harder."Louis XVIIIof France (1755-1824): "A king should die standing."McKinley, William(1843-1901), American statesman and President: "Good-by. All good-by. It is God's way. His will be done."Moody, Dwight L.(1837-1899), American evangelist: "Earth is receding; heaven is approaching; God is calling me."Napoleon(1769-1821), Emperor of France: "Head of the army."Napoleon IIIof France (1803-1873): "Were you at Sedan?" (To Dr. Conneau.)Nelson, Horatio(1758-1805), English admiral: "I thank God I have done my duty."Palmer, John(1740-1798), English actor: "There is another and better world."Pitt, William(1759-1806), English statesman: "Oh, my country, how I love thee!"Raleigh, Sir Walter(1552-1618), English courtier and navigator: "Why dost thou not strike? Strike, man!" (To his executioner.)Scott, Sir Walter(1771-1832), Scotch poet and novelist: "I feel as if I were to be myself again. God bless you all."Scott, Winfield(1786-1866), American general: "James, take good care of the horse."Sidney, Sir Philip(1622-1683), English patriot: "I would not change my joy for the empire of the world."Thurlow, Edward(1732-1806), English lawyer: "I'll be shot if I don't believe I'm dying."Vane, Henry(1612-1662), English statesman: "Ten thousand deaths for me ere I stain the purity of my conscience."Washington, George(1732-1799), American general and statesman: "It is well, I am about to die, and I look upon it with perfect resignation."Webster, Daniel(1782-1852), American statesman: "I still live."Wellington, Duke of(1769-1852), British general and statesman: "Yes, if you please." (To a servant asking if he would have some tea.)Wesley, John(1703-1791), English divine: "The best of all is, God is with us. Farewell."
Adams, John(1735-1826), American statesman: "Jefferson survives."
Adams, John Quincy(1767-1848), American statesman: "This is the last of earth! I am content!"
Beethoven, Ludwig van(1770-1827), German composer: "I shall hear now!" (He was deaf.)
Bozzaris, Markos(1790-1823), Greek patriot: "To die for liberty is a pleasure and not a pain."
Brooks, Phillips(1835-1893), American clergyman: "I am going home."
Byron, Lord(1788-1824), English poet: "I must sleep now."
Charles Iof England (1600-1649): "Remember."
Charles IIof England (1630-1685): "Don't let poor Nelly (Nell Gwynne) starve."
Chesterfield, Lord(1694-1773), English courtier: "Give the doctor a chair."
Columbus, Christopher(1440-1506), Italian navigator: "Lord, into Thy hands I commit my spirit."
Cowper, William(1731-1800), English poet: "Feel? I feel unutterable, unutterable despair. What does it signify?"
Cromwell, Oliver(1599-1658), English statesman: "My desire is to make what haste I may to be gone."
Franklin, Benjamin(1706-1790), American philosopher: "A dying man can do nothing easy."
Frederick the Greatof Prussia (1712-1786): "We are over the hill. We shall go better now."
Gilbert, Sir Humphrey(1539-1583), English navigator: "We are as near heaven by sea as by land."
Gladstone, William Ewart(1809-1898), British statesman: "Amen."
Goethe(1749-1832), German poet: "Open the shutters and let in more light."
Greeley, Horace(1811-1872), American journalist: "It is done."
Hale, Nathan(1755-1776), American patriot: "I only regret that I have but one life to give to my country."
Havelock, Henry(1795-1857), English general: "Tell my son to come and see how a Christian can die."
Henry, Patrick(1736-1810), American orator and patriot: "Here is a book (the Bible) worth more than all others ever printed; yet it is my misfortune never to have found time to read it. It is now too late. I trust in the mercy of God."
Holmes, Oliver Wendell(1809-1894), American poet and prose-writer: "That is better, thank you." (To his son, who had just assisted him to his favorite chair.)
Humboldt, Friedrich von(1769-1859), German savant: "How grand these rays! They seem to beckon earth to heaven."
Jefferson, Thomas(1743-1826), American statesman: "I resign my spirit to God and my daughter to my country."
Julian(331-363), Roman emperor: "O Galilean, Thou hast conquered!"
Keats, John(1795-1821), English poet: "I feel the daisies growing over me."
Latimer, Hugh(1485-1555), English reformer: "Be of good cheer, brother; we shall this day kindle such a torch in England as I trust shall never be extinguished." (To Nicholas Ridley, who was burned with him.)
Lawrence, James(1781-1813), American naval officer: "Don't give up the ship."
Louis XIIIof France (1601-1643): "There come to me thoughts that torment me."
Louis XIVof France (1638-1715): "I thought dying had been harder."
Louis XVIIIof France (1755-1824): "A king should die standing."
McKinley, William(1843-1901), American statesman and President: "Good-by. All good-by. It is God's way. His will be done."
Moody, Dwight L.(1837-1899), American evangelist: "Earth is receding; heaven is approaching; God is calling me."
Napoleon(1769-1821), Emperor of France: "Head of the army."
Napoleon IIIof France (1803-1873): "Were you at Sedan?" (To Dr. Conneau.)
Nelson, Horatio(1758-1805), English admiral: "I thank God I have done my duty."
Palmer, John(1740-1798), English actor: "There is another and better world."
Pitt, William(1759-1806), English statesman: "Oh, my country, how I love thee!"
Raleigh, Sir Walter(1552-1618), English courtier and navigator: "Why dost thou not strike? Strike, man!" (To his executioner.)
Scott, Sir Walter(1771-1832), Scotch poet and novelist: "I feel as if I were to be myself again. God bless you all."
Scott, Winfield(1786-1866), American general: "James, take good care of the horse."
Sidney, Sir Philip(1622-1683), English patriot: "I would not change my joy for the empire of the world."
Thurlow, Edward(1732-1806), English lawyer: "I'll be shot if I don't believe I'm dying."
Vane, Henry(1612-1662), English statesman: "Ten thousand deaths for me ere I stain the purity of my conscience."
Washington, George(1732-1799), American general and statesman: "It is well, I am about to die, and I look upon it with perfect resignation."
Webster, Daniel(1782-1852), American statesman: "I still live."
Wellington, Duke of(1769-1852), British general and statesman: "Yes, if you please." (To a servant asking if he would have some tea.)
Wesley, John(1703-1791), English divine: "The best of all is, God is with us. Farewell."
How an artful tradesman drew attention to the presence and the excellence ofhis wares in 1875.REMEMBERGovernor Tilden says that John Hanson told him that he heard Web Wagner say that Anna E. Dickinson told him that D.S. Decker heard that there was no doubt that John McLaren said that S.T. Benedict thought Fred. Seward had told Jim Johnson that Cushney had declared to John Fulton that it was generally believed that Harry Hull said, in plain terms, that he heard Al Berry say that his friend, Harriet Beecher Stowe, had said that Fred. Hotchkiss informed her, at Delmonico's, that it was well known all over the country that Fin Helwig had caught Jimmey Farthing in saying that in his opinion it was a matter of fact, of great public interest, that Nate Wells had said Fred. Howell told him that COHEN BROS. would receive, on Thursday, Oct. 28th, the first invoice of LYNN HAVEN OYSTERS, never before sold in Gloversville, and all for 35 cents a quart.New York, 1875.
How an artful tradesman drew attention to the presence and the excellence ofhis wares in 1875.REMEMBERGovernor Tilden says that John Hanson told him that he heard Web Wagner say that Anna E. Dickinson told him that D.S. Decker heard that there was no doubt that John McLaren said that S.T. Benedict thought Fred. Seward had told Jim Johnson that Cushney had declared to John Fulton that it was generally believed that Harry Hull said, in plain terms, that he heard Al Berry say that his friend, Harriet Beecher Stowe, had said that Fred. Hotchkiss informed her, at Delmonico's, that it was well known all over the country that Fin Helwig had caught Jimmey Farthing in saying that in his opinion it was a matter of fact, of great public interest, that Nate Wells had said Fred. Howell told him that COHEN BROS. would receive, on Thursday, Oct. 28th, the first invoice of LYNN HAVEN OYSTERS, never before sold in Gloversville, and all for 35 cents a quart.New York, 1875.
How an artful tradesman drew attention to the presence and the excellence ofhis wares in 1875.
How an artful tradesman drew attention to the presence and the excellence ofhis wares in 1875.
REMEMBERGovernor Tilden says that John Hanson told him that he heard Web Wagner say that Anna E. Dickinson told him that D.S. Decker heard that there was no doubt that John McLaren said that S.T. Benedict thought Fred. Seward had told Jim Johnson that Cushney had declared to John Fulton that it was generally believed that Harry Hull said, in plain terms, that he heard Al Berry say that his friend, Harriet Beecher Stowe, had said that Fred. Hotchkiss informed her, at Delmonico's, that it was well known all over the country that Fin Helwig had caught Jimmey Farthing in saying that in his opinion it was a matter of fact, of great public interest, that Nate Wells had said Fred. Howell told him that COHEN BROS. would receive, on Thursday, Oct. 28th, the first invoice of LYNN HAVEN OYSTERS, never before sold in Gloversville, and all for 35 cents a quart.New York, 1875.
Governor Tilden says that John Hanson told him that he heard Web Wagner say that Anna E. Dickinson told him that D.S. Decker heard that there was no doubt that John McLaren said that S.T. Benedict thought Fred. Seward had told Jim Johnson that Cushney had declared to John Fulton that it was generally believed that Harry Hull said, in plain terms, that he heard Al Berry say that his friend, Harriet Beecher Stowe, had said that Fred. Hotchkiss informed her, at Delmonico's, that it was well known all over the country that Fin Helwig had caught Jimmey Farthing in saying that in his opinion it was a matter of fact, of great public interest, that Nate Wells had said Fred. Howell told him that COHEN BROS. would receive, on Thursday, Oct. 28th, the first invoice of LYNN HAVEN OYSTERS, never before sold in Gloversville, and all for 35 cents a quart.
New York, 1875.
ByTHE YOUNGER PLINY—79 A.D.
Pliny the Younger—Caius Plinius Cæcilius Secundus—was perhaps, the most cultivated and graceful man of letters of the first centurya.d.Literally a man of letters, he left ten books of his "Epistles," which he himself collected—probably even wrote with a view to publication—and their fluent charm still pleases the taste of the reader. One of his letters, written while he was Governor of Bithynia, asks instructions from the Emperor Trajan as to what policy should be pursued against the sect of Christians.In other epistles he tells two excellent ghost stories. But the two letters which are most vital in their human interest, and which record the most thrilling events, are the two addressed to his friend, the historian Tacitus, concerning the great eruption of Vesuvius on August 24,a.d.79. Pliny was only seventeen years of age when he witnessed this eruption, which destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum, and in which his uncle, the elder Pliny, author of the celebrated natural history, perished.Until the year 79 Vesuvius was not suspected of being a volcano. The mountain was covered with vegetation, and the ancient crater was like a circular bowl scooped from the summit. Then came the explosion which buried Pompeii and Herculaneum. Never since has the volcano long remained quiet. The most serious eruptions have been those of 203, 472, 512, 685, 983, 1066, 1631, 1779, 1794, 1822, 1855, 1865, 1872, 1878, 1880, 1895, and 1906.Pliny's descriptions of the scenes on the slopes of the vengeful volcano—the raining ashes; the fleeing, terrified crowds—are as fresh and vivid to-day as those Roman frescoes which it has been the good fortune of the modern archeologist to uncover after two thousand years of burial beneath the Vesuvian scoriæ.
Pliny the Younger—Caius Plinius Cæcilius Secundus—was perhaps, the most cultivated and graceful man of letters of the first centurya.d.Literally a man of letters, he left ten books of his "Epistles," which he himself collected—probably even wrote with a view to publication—and their fluent charm still pleases the taste of the reader. One of his letters, written while he was Governor of Bithynia, asks instructions from the Emperor Trajan as to what policy should be pursued against the sect of Christians.In other epistles he tells two excellent ghost stories. But the two letters which are most vital in their human interest, and which record the most thrilling events, are the two addressed to his friend, the historian Tacitus, concerning the great eruption of Vesuvius on August 24,a.d.79. Pliny was only seventeen years of age when he witnessed this eruption, which destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum, and in which his uncle, the elder Pliny, author of the celebrated natural history, perished.Until the year 79 Vesuvius was not suspected of being a volcano. The mountain was covered with vegetation, and the ancient crater was like a circular bowl scooped from the summit. Then came the explosion which buried Pompeii and Herculaneum. Never since has the volcano long remained quiet. The most serious eruptions have been those of 203, 472, 512, 685, 983, 1066, 1631, 1779, 1794, 1822, 1855, 1865, 1872, 1878, 1880, 1895, and 1906.Pliny's descriptions of the scenes on the slopes of the vengeful volcano—the raining ashes; the fleeing, terrified crowds—are as fresh and vivid to-day as those Roman frescoes which it has been the good fortune of the modern archeologist to uncover after two thousand years of burial beneath the Vesuvian scoriæ.
Pliny the Younger—Caius Plinius Cæcilius Secundus—was perhaps, the most cultivated and graceful man of letters of the first centurya.d.Literally a man of letters, he left ten books of his "Epistles," which he himself collected—probably even wrote with a view to publication—and their fluent charm still pleases the taste of the reader. One of his letters, written while he was Governor of Bithynia, asks instructions from the Emperor Trajan as to what policy should be pursued against the sect of Christians.In other epistles he tells two excellent ghost stories. But the two letters which are most vital in their human interest, and which record the most thrilling events, are the two addressed to his friend, the historian Tacitus, concerning the great eruption of Vesuvius on August 24,a.d.79. Pliny was only seventeen years of age when he witnessed this eruption, which destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum, and in which his uncle, the elder Pliny, author of the celebrated natural history, perished.Until the year 79 Vesuvius was not suspected of being a volcano. The mountain was covered with vegetation, and the ancient crater was like a circular bowl scooped from the summit. Then came the explosion which buried Pompeii and Herculaneum. Never since has the volcano long remained quiet. The most serious eruptions have been those of 203, 472, 512, 685, 983, 1066, 1631, 1779, 1794, 1822, 1855, 1865, 1872, 1878, 1880, 1895, and 1906.Pliny's descriptions of the scenes on the slopes of the vengeful volcano—the raining ashes; the fleeing, terrified crowds—are as fresh and vivid to-day as those Roman frescoes which it has been the good fortune of the modern archeologist to uncover after two thousand years of burial beneath the Vesuvian scoriæ.
Pliny the Younger—Caius Plinius Cæcilius Secundus—was perhaps, the most cultivated and graceful man of letters of the first centurya.d.Literally a man of letters, he left ten books of his "Epistles," which he himself collected—probably even wrote with a view to publication—and their fluent charm still pleases the taste of the reader. One of his letters, written while he was Governor of Bithynia, asks instructions from the Emperor Trajan as to what policy should be pursued against the sect of Christians.In other epistles he tells two excellent ghost stories. But the two letters which are most vital in their human interest, and which record the most thrilling events, are the two addressed to his friend, the historian Tacitus, concerning the great eruption of Vesuvius on August 24,a.d.79. Pliny was only seventeen years of age when he witnessed this eruption, which destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum, and in which his uncle, the elder Pliny, author of the celebrated natural history, perished.Until the year 79 Vesuvius was not suspected of being a volcano. The mountain was covered with vegetation, and the ancient crater was like a circular bowl scooped from the summit. Then came the explosion which buried Pompeii and Herculaneum. Never since has the volcano long remained quiet. The most serious eruptions have been those of 203, 472, 512, 685, 983, 1066, 1631, 1779, 1794, 1822, 1855, 1865, 1872, 1878, 1880, 1895, and 1906.Pliny's descriptions of the scenes on the slopes of the vengeful volcano—the raining ashes; the fleeing, terrified crowds—are as fresh and vivid to-day as those Roman frescoes which it has been the good fortune of the modern archeologist to uncover after two thousand years of burial beneath the Vesuvian scoriæ.
Pliny the Younger—Caius Plinius Cæcilius Secundus—was perhaps, the most cultivated and graceful man of letters of the first centurya.d.Literally a man of letters, he left ten books of his "Epistles," which he himself collected—probably even wrote with a view to publication—and their fluent charm still pleases the taste of the reader. One of his letters, written while he was Governor of Bithynia, asks instructions from the Emperor Trajan as to what policy should be pursued against the sect of Christians.
In other epistles he tells two excellent ghost stories. But the two letters which are most vital in their human interest, and which record the most thrilling events, are the two addressed to his friend, the historian Tacitus, concerning the great eruption of Vesuvius on August 24,a.d.79. Pliny was only seventeen years of age when he witnessed this eruption, which destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum, and in which his uncle, the elder Pliny, author of the celebrated natural history, perished.
Until the year 79 Vesuvius was not suspected of being a volcano. The mountain was covered with vegetation, and the ancient crater was like a circular bowl scooped from the summit. Then came the explosion which buried Pompeii and Herculaneum. Never since has the volcano long remained quiet. The most serious eruptions have been those of 203, 472, 512, 685, 983, 1066, 1631, 1779, 1794, 1822, 1855, 1865, 1872, 1878, 1880, 1895, and 1906.
Pliny's descriptions of the scenes on the slopes of the vengeful volcano—the raining ashes; the fleeing, terrified crowds—are as fresh and vivid to-day as those Roman frescoes which it has been the good fortune of the modern archeologist to uncover after two thousand years of burial beneath the Vesuvian scoriæ.
Your request that I would send you an account of my uncle's death, in order to transmit a more exact relation of it to posterity, deserves my acknowledgments, for if this accident shall be celebrated by your pen the glory of it, I am well assured, will be rendered forever illustrious. And notwithstanding he perished by a misfortune which, as it involved at the same time a most beautiful country in ruins, and destroyed so many populous cities, seems to promise him an everlasting remembrance; notwithstanding he has himself composed many and lasting works, yet I am persuaded the mentioning of him in your immortal writings will greatly contribute to render his name immortal.
Happy I esteem those to be to whom by the provision of the gods has been granted the ability either to do such actions as are worthy of being related or to relate them in a manner worthy of being read; but peculiarly happy are they who are blessed with both these uncommon talents, in the number of which my uncle, as his own writings and your history will evidently prove, may justly be ranked.
It is with extreme willingness, therefore, that I execute your commands, and should indeed have demanded the task if you had not enjoined it. He was at that time with the fleet under his command at Misenum.
On the 24th of August, about one in the afternoon, my mother desired him to observe a cloud which appeared of a very unusual size and shape. He hadjust taken a turn in the sun and, after bathing himself in cold water and making a light luncheon, gone back to his books; he immediately arose and went out upon a rising ground from whence he might get a better sight of this very uncommon appearance.
A cloud, from which mountain was uncertain at this distance (but it was found afterward to come from Mount Vesuvius), was ascending, the appearance of which I cannot give you a more exact description of than by likening it to that of a pine-tree, for it shot up to a great height in the form of a very tall trunk, which spread itself out at the top into a sort of branches, occasioned, I imagine, either by a sudden gust of air that impelled it, the force of which decreased as it advanced upward, or the cloud itself being pressed back again by its own weight, expanded in the manner I have mentioned; it appeared sometimes bright and sometimes dark and spotted, according as it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinders.
This phenomenon seemed to a man of such learning and research as my uncle extraordinary and worth further looking into. He ordered a light vessel to be got ready, and gave me leave, if I liked, to accompany him. I said I had rather go on with my work, and it so happened he had himself given me something to write out.
As he was coming out of the house he received a note from Rectina, the wife of Bassus, who was in the utmost alarm at the imminent danger which threatened her, for her villa lying at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, there was no way of escape by sea; she earnestly entreated him, therefore, to come to her assistance.
He accordingly changed his first intention, and what he had begun from a philosophical he now carried out in a noble and generous spirit. He ordered the galleys to put to sea, and went himself on board with an intention of assisting not only Rectina, but the several towns which lay thickly strewn along the beautiful coast.
Hastening then to the place from whence others fled with the utmost terror, he steered his course direct to the point of danger, and with so much calmness and presence of mind as to be able to make and dictate his observations upon the motion and all the phenomena of that dreadful scene.
He was now so close to the mountain that the cinders, which grew thicker and hotter the nearer he approached, fell into the ships, together with pumice-stones and black pieces of burning rock; they were in danger, too, not only of being aground by the sudden retreat of the sea, but also from the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountain and obstructed all the shore.
Here he stopped to consider whether he should turn back again, to which, the pilot advising him, "Fortune," said he, "favors the brave; steer to where Pomponianus is." Pomponianus was then at Stabiæ (Castellamare), separated by a bay which the sea, after several insensible windings, forms with the shore.
He had already sent his baggage on board, for though he was not at that time in actual danger, yet being within sight of it, and indeed extremely near, if it should in the least increase he was determined to put to sea as soon as the wind, which was blowing dead inshore, should go down.
It was favorable, however, for carrying my uncle to Pomponianus, whom he found in the greatest consternation. He embraced him tenderly, encouraging and urging him to keep up his spirits, and, the more effectually to soothe his fears by seeming unconcerned himself, ordered a bath to be got ready, and then, after having bathed, sat down to supper with great cheerfulness, or at least (what is just as heroic) with every appearance of it.
Meanwhile broad flames shone out in several places from Mount Vesuvius, which the darkness of the night contributed to render still brighter and clearer. But my uncle, in order to soothe the apprehensions of his friend, assured him it was only the burning of the villages, which the country people had abandoned to the flames; after this he retired to rest, and it is most certain he was so little disquieted as to fall into a sound sleep, for his breathing, which on account of his corpulence was ratherheavy and sonorous, was heard by the attendants outside.
The court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with stones and ashes, if he had continued there any time longer it would have been impossible, for him to have made his way out.
So he was awakened and got up and went to Pomponianus and the rest of his company, who were feeling too anxious to think of going to bed. They consulted together whether it would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now rocked from side to side with frequent and violent concussions as though shaken from their very foundations, or fly to the open fields, where the calcined stones and cinders, though light indeed, yet fell in large showers and threatened destruction.
In this choice of dangers they resolved for the fields, a resolution which, while the rest of the company were hurried into it by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and deliberate consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied upon their heads with napkins, and this was their whole defense against the storm of stones that fell round them.
It was now day everywhere else, but there a deeper darkness prevailed than in the thickest night, which, however, was in some degree alleviated by torches and other lights of various kinds. They thought proper to go farther down upon the shore to see if they might safely put to sea, but found the waves still running extremely high and boisterous.
There my uncle, laying himself down upon a sailcloth which was spread for him, called twice for some cold water, which he drank, when immediately the flames, preceded by a strong whiff of sulfur, dispersed the rest of the party and obliged him to rise.
He raised himself up with the assistance of two of his servants, and instantly fell down dead, suffocated, as I conjecture, by some gross and noxious vapor, having always had a weak throat, which was often inflamed.
As soon as it was light again, which was not till the third day after this melancholy accident, his body was found entire, and without any marks of violence upon it, in the dress in which he fell, and looking more like a man asleep than dead.
During all this time my mother and I, who were at Misenum—but this has no connection with your history, and you did not desire any particulars besides those of my uncle's death, so I will end here, only adding that I have faithfully related to you what I was either a witness of myself or received the news of immediately after the accident happened, and before there was time to vary the truth.
You will pick out of this narrative whatever is most important, for a letter is one thing, a history another; it is one thing writing to a friend, another writing to the public. Farewell.
The letter which, in compliance with your request, I wrote to you concerning the death of my uncle has raised, it seems, your curiosity to know what terrors and dangers attended me while I continued at Misenum, for there, I think, my account broke off.
Though my shock'd soul recoils, my tongue shall tell.
My uncle having left us, I spent such time as was left on my studies (it was on their account, indeed, that I had stopped behind) till it was time for my bath. After which I went to supper, and then fell into a short and uneasy sleep.
There had been noticed for many days before a trembling of the earth, which did not alarm us much, as this is quite an ordinary occurrence in Campania, but it was so particularly violent that night that it not only shook but overturned, as it would seem, everything about us.
My mother rushed into my chamber, where she found me rising, in order to awaken her. We sat down in the open court of the house, which occupied a small space between the buildings and the sea. As I was at that time but eighteen years of age, I know not whether I should call my behavior in this dangerous juncture courage or folly; but I took up Livy, and amused myself with turning over that author, and even making extracts from him, as if I had been perfectly at my leisure.
Just then a friend of my uncle, who had lately come to him from Spain, joined us, and, observing me sitting by my mother with a book in my hand, reproved her for her calmness and me at the same time for my careless security; nevertheless, I went on with my author.
Though it was now morning, the light was still exceedingly faint and doubtful; the buildings all around us tottered, and though we stood upon open ground, yet as the place was narrow and confined there was no remaining without imminent danger; we therefore resolved to quit the town.
A panic-stricken crowd followed us, and (as to a mind distracted with terror every suggestion seems more prudent than its own) pressed on us in dense array to drive us forward as we came out. Being at a convenient distance from the houses, we stood still in the midst of a most dangerous and dreadful scene.
The chariots, which we had ordered to be drawn out, were so agitated backward and forward, though upon the most level ground, that we could not keep them steady even by supporting them with large stones. The sea seemed to roll back upon itself and to be driven from its banks by the convulsive motion of the earth; it is certain at least the shore was considerably enlarged, and several sea animals were left upon it. On the other side a black and dreadful cloud, broken with rapid, zigzag flashes, revealed behind it variously shaped masses of flame; these last were like sheet lightning, but much larger.
Upon this our Spanish friend, whom I mentioned above, addressed himself to my mother and me with great energy and urgency. "If your brother," he said, "if your uncle be safe, he certainly wishes you may be so, too; but if he perished it was his desire, no doubt, that you might both survive him; why, therefore, do you delay your escape a moment?" We could never think of our own safety, we said, while we were uncertain of his.
Upon this our friend left us and withdrew from the danger with the utmost precipitation. Soon afterward the cloud began to descend and cover the sea. It had already surrounded and concealed the island of Capri and the promontory of Misenum.
My mother now besought, urged, even commanded me to make my escape at any rate, which, as I was young, I might easily do; as for herself, she said, her age and corpulency rendered all attempts of that sort impossible; however, she would willingly meet death if she could have the satisfaction of seeing that she was not the occasion of mine. But I absolutely refused to leave her, and, taking her by the hand, compelled her to go with me. She complied with great reluctance, and not without many reproaches to herself for retarding my flight.
The ashes now began to fall upon us, though in no great quantity. I looked back; a dense, dark mist seemed to be following us, spreading itself over the country like a cloud. "Let us turn out of the highroad," I said, "while we can still see, for fear that, should we fall in the road, we should be pressed to death in the dark by the crowds that are following us."
We had scarcely sat down when night came upon us, not such as we have when the sky is cloudy, or when there is no moon, but that of a room when it is shut up and all the lights put out.
You might hear the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the shouts of men; some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and seeking to recognize each other by the voices that replied; one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family; some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying; some lifting their hands to the gods, but the greater part convinced that there were now no gods at all, and that the final endless night of which we have heard had come upon the world.
Among these there were some who augmented the real terrors by others imaginary or wilfully invented. I remember some who declared that one part ofMisenum had fallen, that another was on fire; it was false, but they found people to believe them.
It now grew rather lighter, which we imagined to be rather the forerunner of an approaching burst of flames (as in truth it was) than the return of day; however, the fire fell at a distance from us; then again we were immersed in thick darkness, and a heavy shower of ashes rained upon us, which we were obliged every now and then to stand up to shake off, otherwise we should have been crushed and buried in the heap.
I might boast that during all this scene of horror not a sigh or expression of fear escaped me, had not my support been grounded in that miserable though mighty consolation that all mankind were involved in the same calamity, and that I was perishing with the world itself.
At last this dreadful darkness was dissipated by degrees, like a cloud or smoke; the real day returned, and even the sun shone out, though with a lurid light, as when an eclipse is coming on. Every object that presented itself to our eyes (which were extremely weakened) seemed changed, being covered deep with ashes as if with snow.
We returned to Misenum, where we refreshed ourselves as well as we could, and passed an anxious night between hope and fear, though indeed with a much larger share of the latter, for the earthquake still continued, while many frenzied persons ran up and down, heightening their own and their friends' calamities by terrible predictions.
However, my mother and I, notwithstanding the danger we had passed, and that which still threatened us, had no thoughts of leaving the place till we could receive some news of my uncle.
You will read this narrative without any view of inserting it in your history, of which it is not in the least worthy, and indeed you must put it down to your own request if it should appear not worth even the trouble of a letter. Farewell.
The Damascus Seen by Saul of Tarsus Still Exists, Presenting the Same Scenes andCherishing the Same Customs That Characterized It 1,000 Years Ago.
If you were suddenly asked to name the oldest city in the world which is still in a flourishing condition, what would be your answer?
In nine cases out of ten, the person to whom such a query might be propounded would hark back to Egypt, Greece, or Rome. He would be wrong. The oldest city in the world is Damascus.
Tyre and Sidon have crumbled on the shore; Baalbec is a ruin; Palmyra is buried in a desert; Nineveh and Babylon have disappeared from the Tigris and the Euphrates. Damascus remains what it was before the days of Abraham—a center of trade and travel—an isle of verdure in the desert; "a presidential capital," with martial and sacred associations extending through thirty centuries.
It was near Damascus that Saul of Tarsus saw the light above the brightness of the sun; the street which is called Strait, in which it was said "he prayed," still runs through the city.
The city which Mohammed surveyed from a neighboring height and was afraid to enter "because it was given to man to have but one paradise, and for his part he was resolved not to have it in this world," is to-day what Julian called the "Eye of the East," as it was in the time of Isaiah "the head of Syria."
From Damascus came the damson, our blue plums, and the delicious apricot of Portugal called damasco; damask, our beautiful fabric of cotton and silk, with vines and flowers raised upon a smooth, bright ground; the damask rose introduced into England in the time of Henry VIII; the Damascus blade, so famous the world over for its keen edge and wonderful elasticity, the secret of whose manufacture was lost when Tamerlane carried the artist into Persia; and that beautiful art of inlaying wood and steel with gold and silver, a kind of mosaic engraving and sculpture united—called damaskeening—with which boxes, bureaus, and swords are ornamented.
The Egotism of the Motor-Car, Even in the Realm of Poesy, Proves More Than aMatch for the Wit of People Who Continue to Traduce It UntilThey Decide What Model They Will Buy.
Every little while they tell us that the horse has got to go;First the trolley was invented 'cause the horses went so slow,And they told us that we'd better not keep raisin' colts no more.When the street cars got to moting that the horses pulled before,I thought it was all over for old Fan and Doll and Kit,S'posed the horse was up and done for,Butheain'twentyit!When the bike craze first got started people, told us right away,As you probably remember, that the horse had saw his day;People put away their buggies and went kitin' 'round on wheels;There were lots and lots of horses didn't even earn their meals.I used to stand and watch 'em with their bloomers as they'd flit,And I thought the horse was goin',Butheain'twentyit!Then they got the horseless carriage, and they said the horse was done.And the story's been repeated twenty times by Edison;Every time he gets another of his batteries to goHe comes whoopin' out to tell us that the horse don't stand a show.And you'd think to see these chauffeurs, as they go a-chauffin', itWas good-by to Mr. Dobbin,Butheain'twentyit!When the people git to flying in the air I s'pose they'll say,As we long have been a-sayin', that the horse has had his day.And I s'pose that some old feller just about like me'll standWhere it's safe, and watch the horses haulin' stuff across the land;And he'll mebby think as I do, while the crows above him flit,"Oh, they say the horse is done for,Butheain'twentyit!"Chicago Record-Herald.
Every little while they tell us that the horse has got to go;First the trolley was invented 'cause the horses went so slow,And they told us that we'd better not keep raisin' colts no more.When the street cars got to moting that the horses pulled before,I thought it was all over for old Fan and Doll and Kit,S'posed the horse was up and done for,Butheain'twentyit!
When the bike craze first got started people, told us right away,As you probably remember, that the horse had saw his day;People put away their buggies and went kitin' 'round on wheels;There were lots and lots of horses didn't even earn their meals.I used to stand and watch 'em with their bloomers as they'd flit,And I thought the horse was goin',Butheain'twentyit!
Then they got the horseless carriage, and they said the horse was done.And the story's been repeated twenty times by Edison;Every time he gets another of his batteries to goHe comes whoopin' out to tell us that the horse don't stand a show.And you'd think to see these chauffeurs, as they go a-chauffin', itWas good-by to Mr. Dobbin,Butheain'twentyit!
When the people git to flying in the air I s'pose they'll say,As we long have been a-sayin', that the horse has had his day.And I s'pose that some old feller just about like me'll standWhere it's safe, and watch the horses haulin' stuff across the land;And he'll mebby think as I do, while the crows above him flit,"Oh, they say the horse is done for,Butheain'twentyit!"
Chicago Record-Herald.
There lived, one time, a shiftless chap, who wasn't satisfied;To settle down and plug along he never could abide.He felt the fire of greatness burn within his eager breast,And knew himself cut out for deeds the highest and the best.His spirit fairly fumed and frothed at cruel Fate's restraint;Of favorless environment he ever made complaint."But some fine day," he used to say, "I'll set the world afire;It's not for me unknown to be when I do so aspire."Each day our hero might have found some labor to pursue;On every side stood waiting work for willing hands to do;The neighborhood wherein he dwelt had crying need of menTo mow the lawns, for instance, and to beat the rugs—but thenA man so keenly conscious of his real inward worthCould hardly care to tackle toil so tainted of the earth.And so, to pass the time away until his chance should come,He boarded with his mother when he wasn't drinking rum.No doubt, good-natured reader, you opine and apprehendThat this vain, shiftless person met a mean and sorry end.The facts are these: He waited till the time, for us so sad,When wagons run with gasoline became the reigning fad.A sudden, wild demand arose for drivers, men with cheek,And Shifty got a handsome job at fifty bones a week,The people stare, where'er he goes; he's gained his great desire,And every-day he sets the world, or part of it, afire.Newark Evening News.
There lived, one time, a shiftless chap, who wasn't satisfied;To settle down and plug along he never could abide.He felt the fire of greatness burn within his eager breast,And knew himself cut out for deeds the highest and the best.His spirit fairly fumed and frothed at cruel Fate's restraint;Of favorless environment he ever made complaint."But some fine day," he used to say, "I'll set the world afire;It's not for me unknown to be when I do so aspire."
Each day our hero might have found some labor to pursue;On every side stood waiting work for willing hands to do;The neighborhood wherein he dwelt had crying need of menTo mow the lawns, for instance, and to beat the rugs—but thenA man so keenly conscious of his real inward worthCould hardly care to tackle toil so tainted of the earth.And so, to pass the time away until his chance should come,He boarded with his mother when he wasn't drinking rum.
No doubt, good-natured reader, you opine and apprehendThat this vain, shiftless person met a mean and sorry end.The facts are these: He waited till the time, for us so sad,When wagons run with gasoline became the reigning fad.A sudden, wild demand arose for drivers, men with cheek,And Shifty got a handsome job at fifty bones a week,The people stare, where'er he goes; he's gained his great desire,And every-day he sets the world, or part of it, afire.
Newark Evening News.
Grandma says we're right in style,A-sittin' in our automobile.Grandpa says we're fit to kill,A-ridin' in our automo-bill.Ma, she says we ought to feelGrateful fer our automo-beel.Pa says there ain't no other manKin run an auto like he can.Auntie preaches near and far'Bout our lovely touring car.Uncle Bill says he ain't seenNowhere such a good machine.Brother Jim, he keeps a-braggin''Bout the speed of our new wagon.But, oh, it sounds so grand and nobleWhen sister Sue says automoble.Puck.
Grandma says we're right in style,A-sittin' in our automobile.
Grandpa says we're fit to kill,A-ridin' in our automo-bill.
Ma, she says we ought to feelGrateful fer our automo-beel.
Pa says there ain't no other manKin run an auto like he can.
Auntie preaches near and far'Bout our lovely touring car.
Uncle Bill says he ain't seenNowhere such a good machine.
Brother Jim, he keeps a-braggin''Bout the speed of our new wagon.
But, oh, it sounds so grand and nobleWhen sister Sue says automoble.
Puck.
The automobile owner crawledWith haste into his carAnd said good-by, for he was calledTo travel fast and far.He grasped the steering wheel with gleeAnd gave the clutch a yank,And then, with objurgations, heClimbed down again to crank.Again he mounted to the seatPrepared like wind to fly,Yet there he lingered in the street;The water tank was dry.He filled the tank; it seemed a cinch,Once more he starts to chauff,Behold, he does not move an inch—The differential's off.In rage he toils with might and mainTill he is faint and weak;Again he starts—and stops again;The tire's sprung a leak.The shades of night are falling fast,But joy illumes his brow,He shoots ahead—his trouble past,Pray who can catch him now?And yet, around the corner weMay find the same machine;Its owner is not there, for heHas gone for gasoline.Council Bluffs Nonpareil.
The automobile owner crawledWith haste into his carAnd said good-by, for he was calledTo travel fast and far.
He grasped the steering wheel with gleeAnd gave the clutch a yank,And then, with objurgations, heClimbed down again to crank.
Again he mounted to the seatPrepared like wind to fly,Yet there he lingered in the street;The water tank was dry.
He filled the tank; it seemed a cinch,Once more he starts to chauff,Behold, he does not move an inch—The differential's off.
In rage he toils with might and mainTill he is faint and weak;Again he starts—and stops again;The tire's sprung a leak.
The shades of night are falling fast,But joy illumes his brow,He shoots ahead—his trouble past,Pray who can catch him now?
And yet, around the corner weMay find the same machine;Its owner is not there, for heHas gone for gasoline.
Council Bluffs Nonpareil.
ThisisthewayheracedalongAteighteenmilesanhour;This the speed he walked back homeWhen busted was his power.Exchange.
ThisisthewayheracedalongAteighteenmilesanhour;This the speed he walked back homeWhen busted was his power.
Exchange.
By Joe Cone.
I am coming, I am coming, don't you hear my thunder roll,Don't you feel my mighty power thro' your body and your soul;Don't you dread my awful presence, my momentous throbbing feel?I'm a dashing, thrashing, bucking, cluckingAuto-mo-bile!I'm a wonder, I'm a snorter, I'm a bull put on parade,I'm a devil, I'm a terror for the people who're afraid;I can paralyze the horses, I can make 'em dance a reel,I'm a rearing, tearing, rumbling, grumblingAuto-mo-bile!Clear the track, ye meek and lowly, for I claim the right of way!There's no limit to my tenure, or my speed by night or day;To the woods with everybody, that's the way we devils feel,I'm a lusty, dusty, ramming, jammingAuto-mo-bile!The Pneus.
I am coming, I am coming, don't you hear my thunder roll,Don't you feel my mighty power thro' your body and your soul;Don't you dread my awful presence, my momentous throbbing feel?I'm a dashing, thrashing, bucking, cluckingAuto-mo-bile!
I'm a wonder, I'm a snorter, I'm a bull put on parade,I'm a devil, I'm a terror for the people who're afraid;I can paralyze the horses, I can make 'em dance a reel,I'm a rearing, tearing, rumbling, grumblingAuto-mo-bile!
Clear the track, ye meek and lowly, for I claim the right of way!There's no limit to my tenure, or my speed by night or day;To the woods with everybody, that's the way we devils feel,I'm a lusty, dusty, ramming, jammingAuto-mo-bile!
The Pneus.
Love is just a cobweb, wet with morning dew;Love is just a fairy spell, invisible to view;A tread—a touch too heavy, and the cobweb is not there!A sigh too long, and lo!—the spell has vanished into air!Love is just a morning-glory, doomed at noon to die;Love is only half a story, told in passing by;Love is gold so delicate, the faintest flame would melt it;Love's—NOTHING; but—God help the man who's never known nor felt it!Helen Rowland in Life.
Love is just a cobweb, wet with morning dew;Love is just a fairy spell, invisible to view;A tread—a touch too heavy, and the cobweb is not there!A sigh too long, and lo!—the spell has vanished into air!Love is just a morning-glory, doomed at noon to die;Love is only half a story, told in passing by;Love is gold so delicate, the faintest flame would melt it;Love's—NOTHING; but—God help the man who's never known nor felt it!
Helen Rowland in Life.
General Miles, in company with a friend, was walking down Pennsylvania Avenue, when a person, entirely unknown to the veteran soldier, rushed up to him, and grasping his hand, said, warmly, "Well, Nelse, old boy, I'll bet anything you don't remember me!"
"You win!" coldly and laconically replied Miles, as he released himself from the grasp of the stranger and resumed his walk.—Woman's Home Companion.
Attorney William S. Barnes, of San Francisco, has a new office boy. The last boy with whom he was associated resigned a few days ago because the law business did not suit his peculiar temperament.
"How long have you been here?" asked Barnes, when the small boy made known his intention to engage in a different vocation.
"Six months," replied the boy.
"And you don't like the law business?"
"Naw. It's no good, and I tell you straight, I'm mighty sorry I learned it."—Technical World.
Eugene Field, sad of countenance and ready of tongue, strayed into a New York restaurant and seated himself at a table. To him there came a swift and voluble waiter, who said:
"Coffee, tea-chocolate, ham 'n' 'ggs—beef-steak—mutton—chop—fishballs—hash'n'—beans," and much more to the same purpose.
Field looked at him long and solemnly, and at last replied:
"Oh, friend, I want none of these things. All I require is an orange and a few kind words."
Miss Maude Adams has a favorite story about a certain "Miss Johnsing" and an uncertain "Culpeper Pete."
Pete became enamored of the dusky maiden and not having the courage to "pop" face to face, called up the house where she worked and asked for her over the telephone. When he got her on the line he asked:
"Is dat Miss Johnsing?"
"Ya-as."
"Well, Miss Johnsing, I'se got a most important question to ask you."
"Ya-as."
"Will you marry me?"
"Ya-as! Who is it, please?"—Exchange.
The following sublime paragraph is from one of the latest fashionable novels:
"With one hand he held her beautiful head above the chilling waves, and with the other called loudly for assistance!"—Exchange.
A young woman having asked a surgeon why woman was made from the rib of a man in preference to any other bone, he gave the following gallant answer:
"She was not taken from the head lest she should rule over him; nor from his feet, lest he should trample upon her; but she was taken from his side, that she might be his equal; from under his arm, that he might protect her; from near his heart that he might cherish and love her."—Exchange.
Lord Ellenborough once said to a barrister, upon his asking in the midst of a boring harangue: "Is it thepleasure of the court that I should proceed with my statement?" "Pleasure, Mr. Smith, has been out of the question for a long time, but you may proceed."—Old scrap book.