Whims Monthly (February, 1896)
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Price, 5 Cents. y | UNG, MONTHLY. FEBRUARY, 1896. THE WHIMS COMPANY, «3 ‘ NEW YORK. r. Copyright, 1896, by The Whims Co.
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ADVERTISEMENTS. Antique Silverware. Antique : English Silver-plated Ware. Antique Bronzes and Statuaries. Antique. Jewelry. Antique Dresden China. > > Old and Modern Paintings, 18th Century Laces, &c., &c. > > E. F. EBLE, 15 West 42d Street, NEW YORK.
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Vou. I. W H I MS. No. 2. GHOSTS. QO UT of the nothingness Of the impalpable Come the gaunt hordes, all uncalled for, un- sought; } Clothed in the heartlessness Of the unspeakable— Ghosts of the thoughts that we long ago thought. Out of the mistiness Of the, invisible Come the grey hosts of the long-buried dead; Clothed in the fearsomeness Of the unalt’rable— Ghosts of the words that we long ago said. Out of ourconsciousness . Deeds irrevocable Come to our minds as the wailing of wind; Clothed in the grewsomeness Of the all terrible— Ghosts of the sins that we long ago sinned. GRAHAM SHAW.
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30 THE SOUL OF THE VIOLIN. THE SOUL OF THE VIOLIN. H*® was old, and he stooped greatly when he walked. His days had been full of sor- row and he had known little sympathy, for he was almost friendless. Music had magic charm for him and many a time his heart had been touched by a pathetic voice. But no one had yet reached his soul—no chord of human sympathy was struck — until to-night. He had wandered into an opera-house where a wonderful concert was going on, for he knew that here he could be lifted up from his grief, though even only for a little while. And he might forget ! | Singers and musicians had sung and played in their turn, and the evening woreon. Finally there came upon the stage a small, sad-looking man. He was a violinist, and as he touched his bow to the strings, the heart down there in the vast audience which had so longed to forget did forget. Even the tears forgot to flow. Only a silent, spell-bound old man, breathless and pale. The impassioned music carried him on and on. ‘‘ That soul has suffered,” he whispered to himself. ‘‘No mortal could put such feeling into sound unless he had been through it all. Oh, I must speak with him! I must have him for my friend!” When the last quivering note had died away,
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CHARLES HANSON TOWNE. 31 SLE ST FP LT PN HE BE RN TTS IIIT al AERTS ELE BETES the gray-haired man rose and went out. It was raining hard and the night was cold; but he walked bravely in the direction of the stage- door. A man was there, but refused to let him pass. ‘‘I will wait until he comes out, then,” he said to himself, and so stood patiently in the storm, devoid of shelter, and shivering. After some time a carriage drove up to the door, and then a man came out of the stage entrance and was about to pass the bent form without notice, when he was touched gently upon the arm. He turned, and their eyes met. The old man’s were full of tears, and he whis- pered, hoarsely : ‘You have suffered, have you not? You have known such grief as I have known! You can— you can sympathize, I know. Won’t you be my friend?” There was a sad, appealing tone in the voice, but the other did not heed it. He drew himself away haughtily, at the same time muttering an oath. ‘‘It is only some demented creature,” he said to himself as he stepped into the car- riage and closed the door. He left the old man weeping in the night, and thought no more of him. And then it flashed upon the sorrowing one that it was not the soul of the man which spoke, but the soul of the violin. CHARLES HANSON TOWNE.
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32 THE MOUNTAIN BROOK. TIME. N rolls the sand, No rest, no pause is granted by the fatal hand Which holds the world And plays with human weaklings ’til they’re hurled Into the spheres For which some hope, some long, some look with fears. Eternal war Has turned the human ocean into gore, Each rising wave In falling bears its victim to the grave; On rolls the sand, No earthly power stays Time’s fatal hand. EUGENE EBLE. THE MOUNTAIN BROOK. ROM two little bubbling springs on the mountain-side the water gushes forth, and merging into one crystal stream tumbles over the craggy precipice and falling into the basin below starts on its journey to the low lands. Unrestrained it leaps forth over the rocky bed, circling the huge boulders lying in its path; dashing the spray high in the air, it continues
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THOMAS HOWARD BENEDICT, 33 onits way. Separated againand again, hither and thither it rushes, only to unite as often. _ On, ever on it rushes, gathering force from numerous tributaries of a like source. - Over the shelving stone and down into the -caverns beneath it falls, forming a cataract, dancing and sparkling in the rays of the morn- ing sun. At last it has reached more level ground, and rolling along majestically between its grassy banks seems like a victorious knight returning from the fray. The drooping willows, stretch- ing their graceful branches over the stream, sigh and whisper their adieus to the hurrying waters. The water-cress bends its head in the current, but it tarries not. Through the perfume-laden fields and into the distant wood it takes its course. Through sylvan glades,'twisting and turning, it winds its way. The rays of the mid-day sun, high in the heavens above, peep in between the leaves of the giant oak, hardly stirring in the gentle zephyr, and are reflected in a myriad of hues. Now it enters the depths of the forest, and mile after mile it courses on in impenetrable dark- ness; out into a clearing for an instant, and lost again in the dense, tangled underbrush. On, ever on it flows, till with a joyous bound it breaks into the open fields once again,
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34 THE DOOR OF THE ‘‘ HALF WORLD.” The sun is getting low in the sky and the birds are singing their evening song, the golden red of the autumn sunset clothes everything in splendor. | The horses neigh in the pasture and the soft moo of the cows betoken the end of day. The brook’s race is nearly run, and as night begins to lower and the fireflies light their tiny lamps it nears its goal. Over the tops of the trees the moon appears, casting its cold, white light over hill and dale. The nightingale sings its plaintive melody as the brook delivers its pure and limpid waters to the mighty river which empties into the sea. TuomAs HowArpD BENEDICT. THE DOOR OF THE ‘‘ HALF WORLD.” “pe house was lonely —sumptuously fur- nished from entresol toattic. The owner and his sybarite wife invited a few friends to celebrate the New Year. The loneliness was oppressive. The house should ring for a day and a night with revelry. She came—superb, distingué almost—in the latest costume and abounding with a glow of health that was con- tagious. All night long the sumptuous rooms resounded. There was feast, and song, and laughter, and the twisting of the thread of life,
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J. L. FRENCH. 35 TST EE PRES TE SE EE I PE TE EE RE AT A OT TS They knew not the night nor the morning, and when the following day was far spent, toasts were incoherent but still plentiful. She was radiant, still—miradile/—the queen of the orgy. He came in—a casual friend of the host—at four in the afternoon, and, boisterously greeted, accepted his glass and looked on wondering, aye, and glorying somehow, within himself. He, fresh from a long, quiet couch, and she— mirabtile/—fresh as the dawn after twenty hours’ revelry, were attracted at once to each other. Other magnets had become passive. She rose to him —still virile, radiant as Venus, hardly touched by the passion and fume of the festival to Bacchus and Eros. Said I not mz- rabtile ? He was young, a looker-on—still unknow- ing. Theyclinked glasses. He saw the hard, luminous light, that never dies, in her eyes; the red of her cheek suggested pale new roses, her breath as sweet as the air of dawn. He drew toward her but dared not touch. The beauty of a perfect woman held him in thrall. She looked hard at him and laughed. Then she leaned over and kissed him with full lips. The door of the Half World closed behind him that moment, | J. L. FRENCH,
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36 SONG OF THE PESSIMIST. SONG OF THE PESSIMIST. HERE’S nothing like fear To hasten the year. What need of a smile When you have a tear. x x + * % With grimace and smirk, he is at his work. Hark to his howls! Naught of a shirk Is Death as he wanders from inn to kirk. List to the wail of a girl’s travail. Heard you the moan of a soul just flown? That was the cry of the devil’s own. Hope is the wench shackled to fright, Maid of the morning, Bride of the night, Love of the darkness, widowed by light. So flout in the face of the new-made year. What know you of faith. Think you she'll cheer If the path be rough and the ascent sheer? BERT PIERCY.
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WATHAN HALE: 37 NATHAN HALE. ised at from any standpoint, from any aspect, at any hour of the day, or on any day of the week, in all seasons and under all human conditions, that statue should be an in- spiration to the men of this great metropolis. Standing as he does, the clear-eyed patriot looks out and over the busy highway of traffic, and at his right hand rise the massive homes of the daily press. When the summer leafage softens the back- ground; when the bare branches intensify the outlines of the bronze ; when the morning sun lights up the east and spreads an aureole of glory behind his head; when the sunset’s lingering rays touch that calm young face with a kiss of infinite tenderness; when the cold moonlight wraps him in the mantle of her shimmering glory, always, always he stands there, with fettered hands and feet, but with a dauntless spirit which no human power can quell, which bows but to the mandates of truth and honor. Yet, when the rush and the turmoil of the week are ended and over the Sabbath stiliness the noontide chimes of Trinity are heard, he seems to assume more majestic proportions ; he stands a giant, fettered for his country’s sake, and in the voices of the chapel bells he seems to hear the music of the angels singing,
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38 A STUDY IN TYPES. and the Master’s words, ‘‘ Well done.” And in the vesper hour, when, From the brown old belfry tower, Across the busy street, With its teeming life And its constant strife, The bells ring slow and sweet, He stands with head uplifted, And eyes serenely true, While the bells ring slow, O’er the noise, below, Up, up, into the blue, Up, up, where his spirit, soaring, Still watches, with patriot zeal, This favored clime Where, with faith sublime, He died for his country’s weal. Louig R. HELier, A STUDY IN TYPES. [HE Man with the Torpid Liver evinced a partiality for solitude a great deal of the time. He had very little to say to the ladies. He grew yellowereach day and kept very much to himself as though reluctant to harass any with even the sight of his pathetic brown eyes and parchment-like skin. General Brideaux proved a veritable crank, grouty and gruff and effectually checking all attempts at conversation by his surly manner,
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: OLIVE BEATRICE MUIR. - $9 AERA RY ET SER MAI A ST ET ET RS OE a III ET ET ET SLES RE 2S It was thought he suffered from dyspepsia as the result of his reckless eating, and he was excused by some on this ground. But he won the universal disapproval by declaring emphatically one day that he had never read any part of the Bible and furthermore never intended so doing. After this assertion he was left severely alone. The Acrobats were very quiet, aside from the daily performance they gave each morning on the upper deck. This was to keep in trim. The women were not ev costume, and con- sequently a display of petticoats was inevi- table; but on the whole they did not annoy the other passengers and kept among themselves. Mr. Growle complained of terrific headaches, and thereby was dubbed by the audacious Cap- tain as the Man with the Head. It wasa little ' strange that he allowed so many of the rude jokes to pass by unnoticed and unchallenged, but perhaps he had more respect for his own dignity in keeping silent than he had anger for the speeches made. ‘‘Our lunatic asylum heaves in sight once more,” observed Captain Guarder at dinner as Mr. Growle made his appearance a little be- lated, ‘‘ how is that head of yours !” ‘** Better, thank you,” replied the Man with the Head with marked urbanity. ‘‘Are you going to play poker this afternoon, Captain?”
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‘40 A STUDY IN TYPES. ‘*Not unless you do, John. When I goto the circus I want to see the clown.” ‘*No fool, no fun, eh?” remarked the In- fidel’s Cousin jovially. He reminded one very much of the accepted pictures of Mephistoph- eles with his Vandyke beard and sun-burned nose and face. His wife smiled at all his pleasantries. She was a large, voluptuously made woman with a tremendous appetite and a voice that was by turns affected and natural. The type is not rare and easily distinguished. It could plainly be discerned she had not long been married, for she ‘‘ Jack deared” her hus- band in response to his many ‘‘ Edith darlings” as much as half a dozen times during a meal. The Man with the Head glared at the speaker. ‘‘What difference is that to you ?” he growled, and rolled his eyes threateningly. He did not intend to submit to a stranger’s ridicule. The Captain’s was bad enough. Mr. Estes the Scientist, politely bent all his energies upon his dinner. There was one thing particularly charming about Mr. Estes, something that is very rare. He was always polite, even under the most trying circumstances. Mrs. Dumphy, the thirty-two-year-old bride, remained in the room much of the time very seasick. Her elderly husband was most at- tentive and dosed her with champagne
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OLIVE BEATRICE MUIR. 41 - periodically from the bottle which he had brought on board. When three-fourths of its contents were consumed it occurred to him it might be a commendable bit of gallantry to offer the remainder to the other ladies outside inthe cabin. But while struggling to remove the cork he unfortunately held the mouth of the bottle on a level with Mrs. Egerton Chichester’s exclusive person, thereby giving that lady an impromptu shower-bath, greatly to her disgust and indignation. She retired, after a withering glance at the unperturbed Mr. Dumphy, to change her ruined dress. After this occurrence she never lost the opportunity of squelching Dumphy on every occasion. She was avery fashionable woman and fond of im- pressing people with her diamonds and ‘** family.” The Creole and the Medical Student haunted the Heroine’sheels. She could not turnaround but they were at her side paying her trite compli- ments, talking vague nothings, or making love speeches until the girl wondered if they thought she was a fool or believed everything they told her. She had begun by rather liking the Student, but she ended in detesting him, he spoke so flippantly and lightly of women. The Creole seemed fearfully exnuzed through- out the entire trip and didn’t exert himself for anybody, not even the Heroine, for when in
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42 A STUDY IN TYPES. her company, beyond a languid compliment or two, he seemed too weary to say anything. Aside from a dlasé air he affected perfectly, there was nothing distinctive about him, not even the usual matchless complexion of the race. One of his front teeth was of solid gold and it gleamed every time he opened his mouth. 3 The Heroine thought perhaps she was judg- ing him too hastily, for once he had given ut- terance to a sentiment that showed he must have given it some thought to have expressed it. They had been looking over the railing together at the waves dashing against the steamer’s side and the Creole had remarked with something like intelligence in his listless eyes: | : ‘‘Don’t the waves sound as if they resented the passage of the ship?” ‘*They sound to me more as if they were weary of their own inquietude,” the Heroine had made reply. ‘‘ Think of the centuries dur- ing which they have made their ceaseless roar. Theirs is the only monotony in Nature.” After that, however, Pedro seemed to have a reaction, for he relapsed into his former apathy of thought and only had energy enough left with which to smile lazily or wearily when the girl passed him as he lay stretched out in his steamer-chair.
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OLIVE BEATRICE MUIR. 43 ee ‘* He has exhausted his mentality in making that one remark,” thought the Heroine, ‘‘I think I had better leave him alone to recoup. Now if he only will leave me alone!” In the end he did not trouble her any more either with his wearying lassitude or the ridicu- lously expressed sentence, ‘‘ We will ‘protect our women,” uttered in regard to his Southern countrywomen and with a fine assumption of chivalry. But the Medical Student turned cavalier when Pedro abdicated for a recreation of his tired faculties and for a time kept the girl diverted; but gradually her attention began to flag and his stories failed to entertain her. Then unfortunately in her hearing once or twice he spoke lightly of women, and she ex- perienced a revulsion of feeling at once. Her manner grew colder and more distant, and finally by every means in her power she showed plainly her evident dislike for him and avoided him at every turn. Quite naturally he was piqued, and in turn sought in some way to exasperate the girl. He thought he had succeeded when he devoted himself to Mrs. Williams, the Dizzy Blonde, obeying her slight- est command with a docility that seemed in marked variance to his former expressions con- cerning thesex. But the Heroine was glad she was so easily rid of him and began to enjoy a peace she had hitherto unknown.
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44 A STUDY IN TYPES. OI OCI 2 OEP TEL UEEREE e 2 LLAE II S I AIT SE TS.* AI OE EEE ORE EIA, One evening the little party settled in mid- ship ostensibly to watch the moon rise but in reality to enjoy conversation before retiring. The beauty of the night and the extreme calm of the waters tempted many to loiter round the group. The Heroine sat in a steamer-chair between the Chaperone and the M.D. proper. Around her were Mr. Estes, the Man with the Torpid Liver, ex-Mayor Corwin, Mrs. Egerton Chi- chester, Mrs. Williams, at whose feet sat Pratt staring up at her with sentimental eyes, the Creole who lay dozing in a chair, and the Man with the Head. The Infidel’s Cousin came up with his wife leaning indolently upon his arm, but they did not remain, for at the man’s approach Mrs. Egerton Chichester’s face assumed a frozen ~ stare and she immediately ceased speaking. The man with the Vandyke beard and his wife passed by. He knew the proud woman dis- liked him, for he had overheard her say once: ‘*T don’t like that man. I seem always to smell fire and brimstone when he is around.” _The little School-Ma’am came up from below, but did not join the group. When she reached the head of the stairs the Heroine noticed that she hesitated as if undecided and then turned and walked over to one of the bulwarks. She leaned over against the steamer’s side as if in-
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OLIVE BEATRICE MUIR. 45 SP Se tent upon the waters. She seemed to be wait- ing for something, and her manner was such as would indicate she did not wish any one to know it. A man’s voice humming some melody as from sheer habit was heard coming nearer and nearer until the air of the song was quite dis- tinguishable. He passed them, lifting his cap as he did so and interrupting his song long enough to say ‘‘Good-evening, ladies.” He sauntered on until he had reached the bul- warks, against which was leaning the little school-mistress. The group seated in midship saw him raise his cap, offer his arm, and then the two began a promenade. ‘*Our First Officer seems quite taken with the little School-Marm,” laughed the ex-Mayor, who had not been the only observer of the little incident. ‘‘ Well, well, the ladies always favor the good-looking fellows.”’ ‘‘That is the way with women,” said the Medical Student with a slight sneer; ‘‘they take any one who comes along as long as it is aman. They’re a weak lot.” The young fellow had been snubbed by the School-Ma’am. Hence his speech. ‘‘T think your remark is not in good taste, sir,” was Mrs. Egerton Chichester’s reprimand, as she gazed severely down upon the young man stretched at the feet of the Dizzy Blonde.
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46. A STUDY IN TYPES. ‘* When a man speaks slightingly of women you may be sure he has not been in the com- pany of good or pure ones.” | The rest of the company turned to look at the speaker, It was the Heroine. She was sitting with her hands clasped in front of her. The remark seemed singular to issue froma young girl’s lips, and for a little while no one spoke. The Medical Student did not seem crushed by the observation, but then it was not in his nature to be crushed by anything. He was a thick-skinned individual and impervious to re- buffs. He lacked in policy, or he would never have uttered his next statement, which was: ‘*T don’t see anything in that officer to insure a woman to look at him twice. He has risen from being just an ordinary seaman, and he has no talents that I can discover.” Indignation for hearing him belittled was fast swelling in the bosom of one member of the group, and a decided stand valiantly de-- fending the one upon whom the slur was cast might have been taken had not the M.D. proper cometothe rescue. It was unwittingly done, but the observation was given in a dex cided way and with a certain reproof in his voice. ‘¢ A man must be worth talking about when people begin to run him down.”
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OLIVE BEATRICE MUIR. 47 CRIS RP. ARNE SSRN AEE RE OR EO SO SE TT TO EES ‘*T think our Student is mistaken in regard to the First Officer’s lack of talents,” said the Man with the Head, using that part of his anatomy for a purpose. ‘‘ NowI have talked to him quite a little since coming on board and I discovered he had a number of talents. One is his ever readiness to make things pleasant for people. I don’t know what Mr. Pratt would have done for a hat when he lost his overboard had not the First Officer loaned him his.” ‘*T am always sorry for those who are en- vious of other’s talents,” observed Mr. Corwin mildly, ‘‘ for they never realize their own.” ‘*Then you believe every one has a talent?” asked the Chaperone. ‘* Certainly,” answered the ex-Mayor, ‘‘ there is no doubt of it. I believe every one has a talent, be it ever so small. Oftentimes it is turned to wrong account, but more often it is allowed to perish for want of care and cultiva- tion.” 3 ‘How about people who are so situated that their talent (or talents) remains in obscurity ?” queried the Scientist, who had not directly ad- dressed the group since it had formed. ‘‘They should rise above their surround- ings,” interposed Doctor Gillette quickly. ‘‘Now that is a question which will forever be contested,” said the ex-Mayor, seeing he was in a fair way to become arbiter of the
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48 A STUDY IN TYPES. a A RD ER controversy and accepting the position grace- fully, ‘‘ for people have asked, are asking, and will continue to ask in the future whether one should make the best of circumstances and adapt his mental calibre to those around him or put forth every effort to rise and seek a higher plane.” ‘‘Why, there’s only one solution, to that question,” ejaculated the Medical Student, rousing from his recumbent posture to advance hisopinion. ‘‘ You are placed in a certain sphere in life—therefore accept it. Why should one seek to contend with what the gods have pro- vided ?” ‘Tf that is Southern sentiment in regard to the advancement of the human race I want none of it,” said the Chaperon with great vigor. ‘‘No wonder you have given to the world but few brilliant men if these are the opinions believed in by all! Goodness! but you are narrow—and lazy.” ‘‘Squelched again, Alf,” laughed Pedro lazily, having opened one eye sleepily in some curi- osity when the Chaperon began to speak. ‘‘T must confess I agree with our friend,” said the Man with the Torpid Liver in his gentle voice. ‘‘ We should make the best of the situa- tion, and if a man of superior mind be thrown with people of inferior mentality why should he exhaust himself struggling to keep in touch.
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OLIVE. BEATRICE MUIR. 49 with those higher in the social scale than him- self? -He should adapt himself to those around him. He is none the worse for it.” ‘‘He might strike the happy medium and become a hermit,” suggested the Scientist; but the others shook their heads at both opinons. ‘‘Can’t you throw some light upon this subject?” asked the Medical Student of Mrs. Williams, with thinly veiled sarcasm in his voice. His whole manner betokened his small respect either for woman herself or for woman’s capabilities. But Mrs. Williams was not bur- dened with intellect and let pass by the sneer simply because she did not detect it, answering _ the question with acoquettish look and express- ing the desire to be excused where such a weighty subject was concerned. ‘* And you Miss Dare?” pursued the Medical Student audaciously and with a tinge of im- pertinence; ‘‘ you who are so bright can settle all this discussion.” - “Indeed you flatter me, Mr. Pratt,” said the Heroine, ignoring the impudence of the strip- ling and taking his compliment seriously; *‘T thank you for thinking me bright, but I realize I can-never expect to cope with you in point of intellect. You are so bright we shall - have to end in looking at you through smoked glasses.” ‘Say, Alf, you’d better reétire, ” came the =
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50 A STUDY IN TYPES. SET EE OT TR I IE EEE, AED lazy accents of the Creole, who still reclined in his steamer-chair; ‘‘ Northern girls are not like our Southern girls.” ‘* My young friend,” said Doctor Gillette, ad- dressing the Heroine when the audible smile provoked by both her remarks and Pedro’s had subsided, ‘‘I know you must have an opinion upon this subject. Will you not let us know what you think about it?” There was no sham modesty about the Hero- ine. When she had anything to say she never hesitated saying it. I don’t think she was quite aware of the interest and attention she had excited, for when she spoke it was as if ob- livious of all save Doctor Gillette. ‘*To my way of thinking,” she said quietly, looking at him, ‘‘there is but one answer to this question. One should look always for con- geniality. If one does not find it in one’s own station of life one should seek for it. Why should a man stunt his mental qualities in adapting himself to those who are inferior to him? If you were placed among people of low morals would you think it right or just to your- self or Maker to pervert your own so that they mightaccordtotheirs? No? Well, then, why should you deteriorate your mental powers by associating with those you know to be your inferiors in intellect simply because you are in their station of life and do not possess ambition
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ows eee ee SE eee OLIVE BEATRICE MUIR. 2 (ET OR RY SE | RS cl enough to seek brighter brains? Rise above your surroundings, I say, and don’t rest until you meet minds that are as good if not su- perior to your own.” She paused. A slight color had entered her cheeks with the enthusiasm of the moment. She was about to rise when Captain Guarder’s voice broke the silence: ‘Well said, little girl, Now answer a ques- tion I am going to ask and I'll thank you.” He approached the group, removed his short pipe, and asked with his usual deliberate- ness: ‘‘Do you think the mind and the soul are one, or separate ?”’ ‘‘The mind and the soul are not the same,” said the Heroine, with grave composure. ‘‘ It is proved by the fact that many have souls and no minds to speak of, while, alas! there are those who, gifted with a brilliant mind, lack a soul.” . ‘‘Ingersoll, for instance,” observed the Man with the Head. “Ves,” admitted the Captain, after a few short puffs; ‘‘ he destroys what idols you may have had and gives you none in their places.” _ - “Now we are drifting to a discussion of re- ligion,” said the Heroine, rising, ‘‘and I must beg leave to say good-night. It is against my principles to talk upon religion unless all are
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52 A STUDY IN TYPES. Ne of the same mind. And that will never come to pass until the world ends.” ‘* Perhaps not:then,” interposed the Scientist. The Heroine smiled brightly upon the group and asked the Chaperon if she were going be- low. ‘**Not till later. It is barely half-past nine,” answered that lady. ‘‘I may be down before you are asleep, however.” ‘*Good-night, my friends,” the Heroine made utterance, as she caught the shawl Doctor Gil- lette was wrapping around her, and then she turned away with the physician, who had quietly observed he would sée her to her state- room. : When they reached the door of her room he said as he noticed her color: ‘*My child, you must learn to control this excitable temperament of yours. Some day it will work you harm. Your mind is in an un- happy state to-night. Take a drink of this cordial before you sleep or to-morrow you will be wretched. It will give you false strength, to be sure, but you have need of strength of some kind or you will collapse.” He proffered the small bottle and she took it, and then bidding her good-night he left her. Though the girl drank a deep draught as he had bidden her, it was long before she could
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THE OPULENCE OF PETER SHAGG. 53 close her eyes in sleep. The melody hummed in the early part of the evening began to steal over her troubled senses. -At first it seemed faint and far away, as though it made itself apparent only through the mazes of memory. Then it grew clearer and more distinct, and she realized that a baritone voice was rising and falling with the mournful cadence of Neid- linger’s Serenade. She heard it in the dis- tance first, then it drew nearer, passed her window, and at last faded away entirely. But the music rang in her ears all through the night, and even the words seemed to be whis- pering solftly through her slumbers: ‘“‘ The wind is whisp’ring, low, my love, The moon is rising slow, my love, And T, love, thy true love, am keeping watch o’er thee, So sleep, love, for I, love, am keeping watch o’er thee.”’ OLIVE BEATRICE MUIR. THE OPULENCE OF PETER SHAGG. O think that I, Peter Shagg, a plain, easy- going man, who for forty-one years had lived in poverty, should now be a man of wealth and position in the world, is almost be- yond human comprehension. If it were some other man of whom I were writing I would not believe the facts about which I write. That I
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54 THE OPULENCE OF PETER SHAGG,. am in affluent circumstances now is due largely to the fact that I have been a fairly decent sort of man, which recalls the old saying that if you are virtuous you will be different from other people. | For many years I went to bed hungry almost every night, and arose almost every morning with an appetite fit for an epicure.. I have ‘lived for days upon stale bread, dry bread, or no bread at all, and drank plain water with a recklessness born of extreme thirst. I have suffered, as the martyrs suffered, from the bitter cold of numerous winters, my ward- robe being short of top-coats, and on certain particular occasions being equally destitute of coats of any kind. After so many years of poverty and hunger, no man who has not had experience can ap- preciate the gorgeousness of wealth, I might say luxury and wild extravagance, that oppor- tunity affords a man who has a large and in- creasing bank account. Where once upon a time I lacked the necessary fuel to keep my shivering bones alive, I now have money to burn. It all came about in the simplest sort of way, and when I come to think of it I feel satisfied that I was born to be rich. My good fortune started in the little shop of my friend the barber. I called upon him one day that he
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WILL M. CLEMENS. 55 might appreciate my friendship by shaving me out of charity. I had no sooner seated myself in his chair than the door opened and I saw a new customer walking in. Another and still another patron came into the shop, and when my friend the barber released me from the en- vironment of towelling he was confronted by an eager throng impatiently awaiting the bar- ber’s tender touch. As I left the shop, my friend the barber smiled upon me and hur- riedly whispered into my ear that I had brought him rare good luck. Strange as it may seem, when a few days later I sought the kindness of my friend the bar- ber I was again the cause of his having an. extraordinary run of custom. This thing continued in the most remarkable way until my friend was compelled to employ numerous assistants and to eventually enlarge his premises. Then came a climax, for the barber made me a proposition to not only serve me gratui- tously but to pay me a handsome salary each week, as—well—simply a human magnet of | trade. Thus it was like a flash in the night I dis- covered the strange and remarkable magnetic power I possessed. For years my ability to attract had lain dormant, and for almost a life- time I had suffered on in poverty, not knowing
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55 THE OPULENCE OF PETER SHAGG. the easy manner in which I might have ac- ~quired wealth. Having discovered the secret of success, I soon found the road to fortune through various lines of trade. At the café on the corner I am a welcome guest, and as I supply the innermost wants of the physical man without money and without price, I know that I am to receive from the cashier one dollar for every moment that I sit at the table. Immediately I enter the café the crowd follows and the proprietor’s face be- comes a human sunbeam. My feet are shod with the best product of the bootmaker, and the weekly stipend I receive from him is sufficiently large in itself to cover all my incidental expenses. I am the best friend my tailor ever had; while the merry villain who mixes my morning cocktail knows full well that Iam worth my weight in gold to him. To-day my life from morning until night is one continuous round of plenty, and at the con- clusion of my daily toil, which in this particular instance is but a pleasure in itself, I am recon- ciled to the delightful fact that the score of tradesmen with whom I have my peculiar deal- ings have earned for me a Salary equally as large as that of any bank president in the land. Now that I am a creature of opulence and enjoy only the good things of life, I am pos-
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IN SEARCH OF TRUTH. 57 sessed of one regret: As the first and only original Human Magnet, I should have sent out an expedition and discovered myself at least thirty years ago. WILL M. CLEMENS, IN SEARCH OF TRUTH. H AVING by dire misfortune come in contact with certain ambitious young ladies who, by choice, not by compulsion of circumstances, advocated the cause of the New Woman—the woman who proposes to enter into the worldly pursuits of commerce—and being personally much at odds with myself on the subject, I determined to undertake a canvass of opinions from a few of my acquaintances among the gentler sex, in the various grades of social standing, according to the much erroneous thermometer of human society. I travelled among the high first. High, I say, according to the worldly standard of high and low. Miss Ethel B——, the daughter of the presi- dent of the C—— National Bank, greeted me most cordially when I called. ‘‘So glad to see you,” she said, affably. ‘Thank you, Miss Ethel,” said I in like: manner; ‘‘ but pray do not consider my call to- day one of a social character. I am in search
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68 IN SEARCH OF TRUTH. So STATE NS AS SR EE TS RETEST IT ES TE FE RT AEE of truth, and thought I would call on a few of my most intimate friends to get the various opinions on the new woman—just a joke,” I added, assuringly. ‘*] shall be most delighted to be of service to you.” **Do you think woman man’s equal mentally and physically ?” ‘*Mentally, most certainly; and physically— well, that’s a matter of only a few years more; we are building a new athletic club uptown.” There was a triumphant ring to her last remark. *‘Do you believe it to be woman’s proVince in life to follow commercial pursuits ?”’ ‘* Most certainly, if she cares to.” ‘But if woman enters upon business oc- cupation, who should assume the responsibili- ties of the home, if I may ask?” ‘‘Why —I1 suppose —the servant, Jenny — or some one,” she replied, confusedly. ‘* But assuming that Jenny or Bridget should have higher ambitions—to open a banking- house, a gin-mill—or enter politics, if she has the genuine Irish blood in her veins—what then?” . ‘* Oh—then—then—Providence will provide some outlet—you can’t talk it out of me—wom- an has the right to enter mercantile pursuits.” ‘‘T am sure, Miss Ethel,” said I, with assumed
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IN SEARCH OF TRUTH. 59 sincerity, ‘‘ you have ably defended your side - and Iam proud of you.” Miss Ethel evidently felt that my voice lacked its genuine ring and fel thurt, She sent out New Year’s cards, but I was not on the list. Next I went to Dolly F Her father is the owner of a book-store with a fair revenue attached, but unliké Ethel, she only enjoyed a public school education. **Dolly,” I said, ‘‘ tell me, what do you think of the new woman, that new woman who aims to cope with men in business, politics, etcet- era?” ‘*T should say that if she is capable of doing it, and if necessity demands it, let her do so. It’s a funny question to ask. I know that pa never would permit me to do it.” I walked on. Through squalid, narrow streets I wound my way, where the odor of refuse and neglect breeds pestilence. The low of all nations here are huddled together, some living in bleak, high tenements, others in rickety wooden houses, and others in the gin-mill at the corner. I reached No. 57. The tenement is dangerous and a reputed fire- trap. A half-dozen charred corpses at Potters’ Field bear witness. Mary, as I call her, some years ago saved my life. I was despatched to that very house ona reportorial errand. Some one had been drugged and robbed, and details
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60 IN SEARCH OF TRUTH. = were scant. The City Editor said: ‘‘Get all the facts—it’s a good story if we can land it—the police have given it up.” When I arrived at the place I saw a half-dozen rough and dangerous-looking fellows hanging around near the front door. After I had climbed the stairs and procured the sought-for information from a half-dozen different per- sons, I was groping my way out through the dark hallway. It wasa dark night and unin- viting. Not a spark of light lit upon the wretched stairs. Just as’I was passing the threshold of the tenement a girl rushed up to me and whispered: ‘‘ Mister, mister, don’t go out. The fellers there say they’re going to do youup. Theysay you ain’t got no business ‘round here.” After a half-hour’s wait a sleepy policeman passed by, swinging his club to the melody of a lullaby, and under his kind guidance I was escorted out of the murderous neighborhood. Thus it was that I made the acquaintance of Mary. During the last eight years at Christ- mas time I sent some trifle in acknowledgment of her service to me, and this day, being in search of truth, I mustered up my courage to travel through the repugnant quarter of beg- gary and misery. In response to my knock a wan little woman, with sweet but pale features, opened the door, and when she recognized me,
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IN SEARCH OF TRUTH. 61 as I entered from the dark hallway, her face lit up. ‘‘Why, how d’ye do?” she said in a gentle little voice; ‘‘do come in; I’ve been wanting to write to you to thank you for the lovely pres- ents you sent the baby and me for Christmas, but you didn’t send your address with them.” I sat down on the proffered chair, and looking about me, took in the poor but tidily kept little apartment. 3 _. **T didn’t expect to find you home,” I said, ‘“because when I last saw you you were working in the store. Arén’t you there any more?” ‘‘Oh, no, mister, I left there when little Tommy came intothe world, because John, my husband—dear John !—wouldn’t let me stay any more—and oh! I’m so happy here all day with the baby, playing with him and making little dresses—and Tommy is so good, so good,” she added, in exultant joy, as she motioned me to follow her on tiptoe into the dark little bedroom where the tiny tot lay sleeping. She kissed him on the forehead, and when we had quietly retraced our steps into the 12x14 Sitting-room I saw a tear trickling down her cheek. ‘‘What’s the matter, Mary?” ‘Oh, mister !’’ she said, with a tremorin her voice, ‘‘ I’m so happy that John took me away from those rude men in the store, to take care
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62 IN SEARCH OF TRUTH. Te YS |S OL OT of our little home and our little boy—John is so good.” I went away from the house with a memo- randum of the stuffs for a few little dresses for the child. I determined to look no further for opinions on the subject of woman’s mission in life. Whenever the theme of the new woman is mentioned | think of the happy home down on the East-side of the City in the bleak and dreadful neighborhood. I think of the tene- ment with its dark stairways and ill-ventilated halls, I think of the little, wan woman with the tiny baby, who knows, not by learning but by the instinct of Divine nature, the purpose and the mission of womankind in the world. Man knows the value and the charm of wom- an. He appreciates her gentler feelings, her more sensitive soul, her fancies, her tenderness. That is why man idolizes her. Oh! ye women who are ambitious, mar not this dream, this idol, that we work and aim for, by adulterating your souls with the baseness of thrift. Let ws, who are strong, work for the home which we cherish, the fireside which we love; let ws bare our breasts against the ravages of time and revolution; but be ye gentle, that at night when we seek our homes we may see reflected in you our milder, our gentler natures. E. E.
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FRIVOLITY. 63 ALIMONY. When the alimony’s due her, and everything’s | in hock, The thought of a commitment = me an awful shock. With lawyers writing letters, a dun in every one, And but one thing to save me, that is to say— the mon’. With Ludlow Street before me, in woman I’ve no stock, When the alimony’s due her, and everything’s in hock. >; >, * A MALICIOUS QUESTION, Conceited Poetaster : ‘* Just think of the hor- ror, madame, which befell me, when I happened to find my three-year-old tearing to small pieces the album in which I had written down my ~ latest poems.” She. ‘‘Indeed! Can the little one read ?”’ >> *» Cholly: ‘*Oh, Miss Ethel, you do look sea charming. I have (drawing near) half a mind—” Miss Ethel; ‘‘ That’s just what pa said,”
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64 COMMENTARIES. SE SS SS SS COMMENTARIES. It is really touching to note the intense in- terest which average citizens take in the every- day doings of the prominent New York fami- lies. The other day they were treated by one of the large papers to the following little tit-bit of information : ‘‘Mrs. A. gave a dinner-party last evening at her home, Fifth Avenue. Covers were laid for twenty-six. The table was covered with a cloth of {Italian lace and red satin, decorated with white orchids and roses. It was set with the famous family silver service, including the tall candelabra and small candlesticks. The candles were covered with pink and white satin shades.” It is of permanent interest to know that on the — day of January, 1896, Mrs. A.’s table was ‘‘ covered with a cloth of Italian lace and red satin”; and great praise is due to the as- siduous reporter who gave us so minute an ac- count of the dinner. It is also of value to know that on this occasion “‘ the tall candelabra and small candlesticks” were used. We are interested in these candlesticks; we already know, or at least are supposed to know, all about them —as they are honored by the defi- nite article. We regret to say, however, that the reporter has omitted to observe some very important
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COMMENTARIES. 65 details. The writer has been informed by a gentleman who was present that Miss Fl-ss— R-s-—b-d was decorated with the famous diamonds which her father, the quondam miner, is said to have dug from the soil of South Africa with his own hands; and that Mrs. A. wore her best set of teeth—the one with the gold filling in front to make it look real. Such an omission should not occur again in the society reports of the Daily Howl. >>, > THE young man from New York who was arrested at Providence a few days ago with a full kit of burglar’s tools in his possession, and who said when arrested by the guardian of the peace that he was about to do a job ina jewelry store, may have been a thief, but he certainly was no liar. > 5 * THE Duchess of Marlborough is said to have insured her life in favor of her husband for $3,000,000.. His Dukelets may not know much about a bike, but when it comes to a question of the filthy lucre he seems to know a thing or: two. &#e«e Dr. PARKHURST says: ‘‘As far as the saloons are coneerned, I would like to see the whole caboodle of them closed up Sunday, Monday,
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66 COMMENTARIES. Tuesday, and all the time.” It seems almost a pity that Dr. Parkhurst and a few other narrow- minded men like him cannot run New York to suit themselves. > ‘* EDWARD A. STEVENS, the manager of Loie Fuller, arrived in America a fortnight ago, and says he has received two offers for Miss Fuller from New York managers, each for a four-weeks’ stay, one of $10,000, the other of $16,000. He refuses, however, to consider anything less than the latter amount.” Of course not. Howcanhe? Since Yvette Guil- bert has fixed the standard at $4000 per week, it can hardly be expected that Miss Fuller would be guilty of such unprofessional conduct as to lower ‘‘ the ante.” >>, ‘*BETTINA GIRARD is about to make her début on the continuous-performance stage, in- troducing imitations of Bernhardt, Melba, Guilbert, Chevalier, and other stage celebri- ties.” Now if Steve Brodie could only be in- duced to give us an impersonation of Sir Henry Irving how delightful it would be ! > 5, Says Tommy Platt: ‘‘THE conduct of the chiefs of the present reform administration has been a thousand
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COMMENTARIES. — 67 SERA ERE ES HOR ALE IRRIE IS BRE TILA SC EG ERG ORES, TENE AEE EEE ELE LENDS EE OEE LEE TE times more disgraceful than any of the known transactions of Tammany Hall.” Says Dr. Piecrust : ‘*T had thought that Tammany was bad, but the look of the thing is that Tammany could go to school a good while to Mr. Lauterbach without coming to the end of what either he or his senior associate could teach them in the way of ‘colonizing,’ ballot-box stuffing, or political dirty work generally.” Says Eddie Lauterbach: ‘*T have studied Dr. Parkhurst’s recent at- titude with great curiosity. The Doctor is evi- dently suffering from that complaint which is commonly called ‘swollen head.’ The head burst last night, and Iam more than ever in- terested in finding out what is the condition of his brain.” And all this, too, from the very men who in ’94 were complimenting one another in their speeches and characterizing Tammany Hall as the most corrupt and polluted organization the world had ever known. Well, inthe language of the English bobby, ‘‘It do beat h—— amazingly.”
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