{ title: 'The East Hampton Star. (East Hampton, N.Y.) 1885-current, December 26, 1885, Page 1, Image 1', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83030960/1885-12-26/ed-1/seq-1/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83030960/1885-12-26/ed-1/seq-1.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83030960/1885-12-26/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83030960/1885-12-26/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
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\ ' ’ - «'•. • ' .••• a ;'. • ;• \ i..-: m • • ■ w m ? ■ HI • • M m IHH.I.AUS A YRUl. DIWOBEI) TO Tim INTKIlR*rr»« OF TUB TOWN OP KA*TirAMI’TON. . .......... - HINCJM? C’OPIEH a ---- rz— ----- n --------------- -W CK.'h'R/ 1 V O L U M E I. EA ST IIA M P T O N , N. Y ., SA T U R D A Y , D E C E M B E R 26, 1885. N U M BER 1 . Saipio’s O veb -Z eal ; -O R ,- A Hitch in a Honeymoon. UY NATHAN D. TURNER. T Axe yqa quit? suro wo fib all not npnoa? like a newly married couple, doar?” wms- poicd Eudooia, drawing a little closer at last apprised her that tho noxt station, thirty milos distant, was our destination. “Cortainlv, my lovo,” I ropliod. “Not only is Scipio suro to have performed his mission discreetly, but just cast your oyes around the car. I would wager that not one of our fellow passengers suspects our secret.\ “Trno; but is Scipio to bo trusted? I can not but recall the instancos you have often laughingly recounted of his excessive and even mistaken zeal in currying out your wishos.” “To.be sure; but thoso wero instances in which his instructions wero of a complox nature. Now ho is merely to apprise my housekeeper of our coming, get the house ready, throw out a number of hints that wo have been married several years, instead of several weeks, and our arrival in tho gos sipy little towif need oxcito no more com ment than that of any truant couple aftor a foreign jaunt of a year or two.” j. “Thou I shall bo satisfied,” murmured I j Eudoeiu, sinking back in lior scat with the | rotined composure of manner that so well | becamo hor. { - A few linos will suffice to explain the |l situation. Soon after returning from our brief wod- j ding tour we had decided to locato ■ our • family altar in Tattleton, my nativo village, ' which I had deserted aboutthreo years bo- foro to carry out a varied programme of travel, which had at last, ns unexpectedly as happily, landed me in tho arms of tho one fair creature of my dioams. }Vo wero agreeably harmonious on ono point es pecially. \We both felt that shrinking dis like of*attracting attention to our changed * condition which is, perhaps, tho natural ac- companimont of sensitive and aesthetic per- 7 sons upon approximating to middle ago; 4 for, if I was no longer young, noither could j it bo voraciously averred (beliind her back) • that Eudoeia was any longer a chicken, though still, in my eyes, tho embodiment of mellowed loveliness and womanly worth. She heartily shared, at all evonts, in my , 7 r' 4 jcud 0f ph0 village criticism upon our - '(fieWly married state. Indeed it was half j upon her suggestion that Scipio, my old and trusted body-servant, bad been dis patched to Tattleton beforohaud, in tho manner and for tho purposo alluded to. “Now, above all, Scipio,” had been my lt last words at parting with him, “bo discreet, 1 bo circumspect! You have your instruc- ^ tions. If you cany* them out properly, you I may look for a new' suit of clothos on your birthday,” • ^ - “Fore de Lord, Mnrso Addersley, I’so got it down fine!” 7o had earnestly replied. I . .“None jDf,rdew^..b . .yhqdies in de 61o town Bhull ebon iitrS'ow Vpu Kish list come from do hunVyTJioon. Jistleabe it tAdoble So it had been “left to do olo mnur I - ,1 hcrj'7,’^;aa'ii cartingo in waiting at tho • station,\ as we passed along tho crowded platform, he gave me a significant nod and leer, us much as hi say that all had boon agreeably arranged. Still my wife was not satisfied. * • “Theophilus,” she whispored, pressing 'l my arm, “something is wrong. I am Bure 1 some of the men hero aro' staring at us quite rudely.” | “Nonsense! All your imagination, my dove!” I replied, reassuringly, though so- cretlv remarking something of tho kindown myself. Wo were iust seated in tho coach whon Doacon Stickler, accompanied by his wife, drove up to the station. Tho Stioklors were, of considerable consequence in tho S laco, and I lost no time in presenting Eu- ocia. To my surprise and mortification, tho Deacon—who had known my father be fore jue, and had always been very friendly —acknowledged tho honor by tho stillest of bows, while bis good lady fairly transfixed my bride through her spectacles, and buroly offered her any recognition wbatover. “Ah, indeed!” hemmed and hawod tho Deacon; “Mr*. Addersly, you say? Un expected pleasure — quite honored, I am sure!” And away drove tho Sticklers, leaving Eudoeia and mo indig nant and mystified respectively, as >ve also took tho load. I was trying to muster sufficient courage to meet Eudociu’s stare of rasontfil in quiry, when whom should wo meet jt fit be yond the bridge but tho klisscB Tun.blety, the rioh old maids, whoso ground adjoined nr own, and I seized tlio opportiviity to twist my heud out of tho window, u*i 1 order a halt. j It then sfiuek mo that tho woit.liy spin sters—usual!; the kindliest of women—sub thronged with gazers. Urchins, rosy nnd round-eyed, stared at us from tho gates and fenco-tops. Nurse-gills halted their lerambulators on the sidewalks to give us ho benefit of their gaping attention. I doubt if a “barking cur1’ could have mado our cheeks flame any more pronouncedly tliau they did nt that moment, but.I am quito certain that, if ihero lmd chabiced to bo any “fantastic gables” within gun-shot, thov, too, would have, ‘‘crowding, starqdk • l£ven a faint cheer—or something warqGf^- was bestowed on us as wo rolled byilio hotel. r “Your paragon of a sorvant lias probably ndvertisod us or pardoned convicts,” com mented Eudoeia, returning glare for glare in tho most creditable manner, considering tho odds against her, and then sinkiug back, her iron nerve broke down in a sort of piteous wail. “They not only know wo aro newly married,” slio sobbed, “but very likely suppose wo have, just eloped from somewhere.” I did not know what to do. I was almost hesido myself. I could only sit helplessly by her side, confused, crushed, perplexed, and eaten up with rage, while my hand had such a convulsive itching to bo on Scipio’s throat that I folt like n murderer. On reaching tho house, I hurried Eudoeia within, hastily threw hor on old Mrs. Gimp’s protection, nnd then rushed once moro into tho opon air to seek an explana tion o f Scipio. But lie had caught the alarm and was nowhore to bo found. The coachman was taking off tho trunks unaided. “I dunuo what f;ot into Scip, sir,” ho ro pliod to my lather vehement inquiries. “Ho sort o’ growed oneasy ez soon ez wo was focused by the big targetin' ez was await ing’ fur us in tho town, and tho minute wo stopped he broke fur tho stables ez if shot out of a gun.” “Ah! Then liavo you any, idon, Jake, of tho occasion of the—tho rather inordinate curiosity excited by our arrival hero?” “I rather fancy,” he stammered, wbilo scratching his head, “ez how it’s all ulong o’ tho leddy, Bir.” • “So! But does my wife bear any re semblance to a wild animal, tliatsho should thus ho stared out of countenance?” I cried. “Your wife?” “■\Vliv, certainly! 'Whom clso should slio bo?” I roared, thoroughly exasperated, “What in thunder do you moan?” “I huiu’t said ez how I moant nothin’ onton the common run,\ was tho rather sullen rejoinder; and Jake remoimtod his box nnd drove away. I ran to tho Btahles, but Scipio was too firm an ndvocato of solf-proservation to bo found thore. Itotuming to tho houso, my wife was in visible, and I was met in the entry by my housekeeper. Mrs. Gimp was a sort of ninety-second cousin or aunt.of mine, and one of thoso piously resigned, devoutly miserable, good old souls who seem to^u. continually .evpkr ing a Vus£ amount of secretly hoarded spir itual resource*' to-eng tain therau^gitfnpt. way. aglUiVy ••wx’t t U i !yeafti' since wo had parted, but she met mo with tins old-time,' watery-eyed, voiceless woe, as though I had said good-by but the duy before. nutted to the stoppage with ill-disguised reluctance. Indeed, 1 had no soonor pro v seated Eudoeia than they recoiled shiver ingly, as (hough encountering an iceberg. # Then, with a faintly murmured “Most de lighted to know Mrs. Addersly!” thoy at once ignored her altogether, und began to overwhelm mo with stereotyped questions about my travels. , 'i • I was feeling niy way. out of tho dilemma &8 best I could, when Eudoeia almost scroamod out: “Scipio, toll the coachman to drive on! I’m tired of this sort of thing!” The coachman whipped up at once, and I saw tho fossils exchange significant glances as wo left them on the road. Eudoeia was tying hack in her seat, with her teeth on edge and a slumbering lire in her fine oyes. “Well, Theophilus?” < “Don’t mind them, my dear,” I respond ed, a little huskily. “Wretched, inflated; stuck-up old maids! They’ro entirely bo noatk your notice!” “Ah! but how about tho Sticklers, then? I’ve heard yon vuuut them us prominent persons in this lovely village of yours,” said Eudoeia, in an abruptly metallic voice that actually rang in my ears like a fire- bell. “I don’t know what to make of it all!” exclaimed. “Really—by Jove! I think shall call the Deacon to an account.” “Perhaps, you will call tho whole town to an account, then!” she cried, with posi tive fierceness. “Look!\ As I followed the direction of her point ing finger, I perceived that we had entered tho village muiu street, and the -sight that presented itself well-nigh appalled me. Every door and every window had a fioad in it, and every heud a pair of oyes that j £K'**^|* agonized us with the species of re- 1 AcritieiRni which is usually elicited V><&ers’ \ van or u taveling menagerie. * x^orch and shop-entrances were ... V Rented, perhaps;'moro out of curiosity than Howerer, I complimented hor on her *ood looks, adding that I was overjoyed at being homo once more, and then uslced if my wifo was up-stairs. “Your wife!” she eehoed, with a wild, startled expression. “Why, luy good woman, whom else, in heaven’s name, should she bo?” I cried. “Huvo you taken leave of your senses, Mrs. Gimp?” Her only answer was to point mourn fully up the staircase, and then sit d bosido tho hflt-ruck, throw her apron over hor head, and indulgo in a few snif- fiing little sobs. Not knowing what to make of it, I ran up the stairs, and, entering tho front cham ber, found my wifo. Blio had taken off her hat and gloves, and was sitting at a window in statuesque despair. But her cheeks glowed, her eyes snapped, and her lips woro the sneer direct, as she slowly turned to meet my gaze. “Well, Theophilus, what dooB it all mean!” ' anything el . Wo received Miss Pryer with considera ble cererton^;'.. After mercilessly scruti nizing ih^ wifo, sbo all nt oneo struck up a conversation upon topics which I had never knoWn h6r to evince any interest in before. Blio grow scientific, socialistic and restbetio all in a brontli, and nt last lot us know that she had boon deeply interested of lato in the subject bf philosophical marriages. V.,Wholly at a loss to understand her drift, I Slit sniilmg vapidly, while Eudoeia, evi dently sotting her visitor down as a garru lous sort b£ lunatic permitted to go at largo, merely listened to her with pitying forbearance: At last tho littlo milliner, in a sudden impulse of friendliness, caught her by tho hand, saying, hnlf-confidcntinlly: “Oli, you dear, bravo creature! I feel so proud to meet a really true, lofty-minded woman like you, who can afford and dnro— ny, dure!—tofollewtho example of Helo- iso, Sappho, Madame Itccnmier, George Band, Marian Evans, and others of the groat ones of tho past, in living boldly and optnly with tho man you lovo, regardless of tho strnight-lacod opinions of n puny- brained, narrow-hearted, bloodless and un sympathetic Social Despotism! Oh, you must bo nR bravo ns a lion—as grand and noble ns Hypatia herself—or as Cleopatra, Zenobia, or any of tho rest of ’em!” “Yon must gxcupg mo, madame,” said my wife, coldly, “if I intimnto that I don’t know what you aro talking about.” “Capital!” cried Miss Piyer, clapping her hands. “You viow it from the sublimest standpoint! You refuso to accept praiso for simply following tho dictates of your courageous, untrnmmelcd heart! “Not at all!” said Eudoeia. “I do not sec that I am following any specially illustrious examples, or necessarily bidding defiance to Bocioty, in living boldly and ononly with tho mau l lovo, when that man happens to l)B my husband.” “Better nnd better! Tho truo Platonic spirit ! * But don’t despair in your valorous departure from tho tnue-lionry, miserable custom that has so degraded aud enslaved our sox. You will liavo mo for a friend—a secret friend, at least—in tho donth-gmpplo you have inaugurated.” My wifo was so surprised ns not to bo able to framo a reply beforo our oecentric visitor bowed horself but of tho room. But Miss Pryer came running back in a moment to say, in a loud whisper, that, besides her stock of tho sweetest things constantly on hand, slio could get up anything “strong- minded*.’ to order, from a regular Bloomer costumo or divided skirt to the latent tliini in vogue in intellectual circles; after whic] she danced out again. “What can Blio moan?” cried my wifo. I shook my head dospondingly, while the murderous itching again crept into ray hand as tlio ebon imago of Scipio fiitted across my mind. “At all events, I trust wo r.ro not to have any moro such visitors thrust upon us>” Baid Eudoeia. “One more ls sure t,o cbmo,”.fiiud I, dole'-\ Mv words wore prophetic. At that in-' stant there was a ring at the door-hell; find then Mr. Saurian himself was usliored in. He was an odd old genius, who had been a particular friend of my father’s, und had always taken an interest in myself. Ho at once bowed very impressively to my wife, nnd then, talcing mo solemnly by tho hand, said in his peculiarly funereal voice: “My dear hoy, so you liavo come into our ranks at lust! Bo you, too, are about to outer upon a career of dollanoo against tho orthodoxy of tho age! Gad? I uni'glad of it. Let mo congratulate you upon having obtained so fair a partner in tho life-long strugglo that looms up beforo you both.” Another bow to Eudoeia. “Courage, • my children, and you shall not fail!\ “I am suro both my wifo and I aro most gratoful for your good wishes, Mr. Saur ian,” said I. “I oven trust that you will not deem our total inability to comprehend your langnngo any bar to our appreciution pt»s«cd lips, stern eyts, nnd l&o generally set, grimly virtuous aspect of ono who* lmd mndo up her mind to encounter even mar tyrdom, if necessary, in tho fearless asser tion of n gront principle. “Mr. Addersly—Theophilus,” slio said, i* ft quivering voico, “your own room 1ms been prepared for you at tho other end of tht passage. I hove had your trunk car ried into it.” Thanks, Mrs. Gimp,” snid 1. “But my wifo* nnd I aro quits content to occupy tho sumo apartment; so that to-morrow you fi'.nst, have my bnggngo transferred.” “Oh, Theophilus!’’ cried tho provoking woman, setting down hor candlestick, tlint she might tho moro eloquently, tho moro beseechingly, extend her clnsped hands toward me; “do not, my son, my old mas ter's son, do not, I implore you, set tho conventionalities nt naught in this homo- plnco of your birth!” “My good woman,” I replied, a littlo warmly, “ns long ns you choose to speak iu riddles, you must excuse me from attempt ing to divino your meaning. Good-night.” VI entered the room, nnd closed tho door behind me, leaving her iu tears. After breakfast on tho following day, Seipio being still missing, I lost no time in procuring a messenger to distribute tho invitations. I would then liavo taken Eudoeia out shopping or driving, but sho would THE LITTLE FOLKS# TaMo Ilulos for I.ltCT« F o lk s . In sllonco T mimt tnko my sent, Ami tfivo (hxl tliank.’j-bnforo Zioafc: Must for my food in patienco wait Till 1 am ntikod to hand my pinto; T must not m-ohl, nor nrhino, not pout, Nor movo my chair or pinto about; J must not apeak a uhc -U' hh word, For children must ho Boon—not heard; I m ust not talk about nry food, Nor fret if I don’t think it Rood ; I must not sav, “Tho bread J h old,\ “Tho tea 1 b hot,\ “Tho cofToo’H cold My mouth with food I must not crowd, Nor whllo I'm eatina KpeaT a loud; Tho table-cloth I mufit not Hj>ollt Nor with my food my flngere eoil; Must keep my neat when I liavo dono, d t* Nor round tho table sport or r u n ; XVlien told to rise, then I muHt i»ut My chnir away with noiHeloBB foot, And lift my heart to God nbovo, Iu praibft for ull Ilia wondroualovo. MolnsKOK, Soil Soap, am i Chlcr. There was a sepuleliral cpiiotudo in hor voico, but her foot was beating tho tattoo upon the carpet which I know by experi ence to presage a storm. “I’ll swear I don’t know!” I exclaimed,, flinging myself in a chair, nnd doggedly thrusting my hands iu my pocket. “Bpare conundrums, Euuocia, or ask mo your _____ something easy. I feel us mean as you possibly can yourself. Sho hud, doubtless, expected something palliatory, and braced herself accordingly, but my undisguised disconsolateness so fur disarmed hor that sho burst into tears. “Take mo away!” sho sobbed. “Let me fly from this liorriblo place! I seo bow it is; thoy think I am not good onough for you. I might have foresoon this result from your marrying a dowerleBS girl like me!” (Poor thing! tho census-taker had notchod her at thirty-eight, aud sho had a married grand-niece of twenty odd.) “If I had only my artless beauty and my inno cent heart to offer you, was it my fault? Take me away, oh, tuko mo away!” “By Jupiter! I’ll do nothing of tho sort,” I criedj taking hor in my arms: “Not good enough, you suy? Why, thero’s not one of ’em, man or woman, fit to button your gaitors! We will bravo it out together, my precious. That villain, Scipio, has made somo outrageous blunder!” “No, no; they think mo unworthy—that is it!” sho persisted. “Evon in your own house—even the old woman here ----- ” “Ha! What next?” I interrupted. “What has Mrs. Gimp been doing?” “Doing? :'Wby, she—she showed mo to —to this apartmunt as my room, Buying that yo-yo-yours would bo ready for you by bed-time. Then, when I h-hiuted that we wero in tho habit of sleeping—I moan, of occupying the same room, she guvo a sort of scream, and I thought she was going to faint. But perhaps it is one of the customs of the country;- perhaps married folks oc cupy separato houses, as well us sepurute rooms. Who knows?” “Perhaps they do nothing of tho kind!” I cried. “What tho deuce!^ is the old woman gone moon-struck?” We wero hero interrupted by a knock at the door, and the female hoodlum who had been engaged by us as a waitress und cham bermaid noisily intruded herself, grinning from ear to ear, tp iuform us tbut Miss Pryer bad culled to pay her respects. Eudoeia ut first refused to go down stairs, but, upon my representing that our visitor was tho chief milliner, as well as tho most unconscionable gos sip of the place, she finally oou- of your goodness of heart, “Ah.Ah, indeed!deed! Perlians.erhaps, declared slio would not again appear in public until our mystery was cleareu up. The acquaintances whom I met individ ually through tho day wero very shy, and seemed disposed1 to keep up what I now seriously began to consider a monstrous and ill-timed practical joko. T^ioy were willing enough to chat about my travels, and of homo affairs that had taken placo during my nbsonce, but the moment I I'mproncliod tho subject of my altered domestic relations they at onco grew taci turn, if not surly, and began to oxchango odd glances in a manner puzzling nnd try ing to my temper, to say tho least. 1 at/last besought ono of them— Jock Whitely, fin old collego chum and a Liieretofore deuced good fellow—to clear a’V.iy tho c I oiu I h , if thoro wero any, or let rao into tho joke, if joko it was. My ear nestness Boomed to stagger him for a mo ment, but immediately thereafter ho looked at mo hnlf-pityingly, half-angrily, and, muttering somo excuse, strode away. w'So, in much mental distress, I returned bdmo to await tho developments of tho evening's venture, nnd to cheer up Eudoeia ns best I could. At n littlo beforo six wo wero in tho draw ing-room awaiting our guests; with consid erable uneasiness on my own part, I had to confess, though my wife—who was splen didly dreBSod—retained her composure ad mirably. Everytuing was a success, so far as tho arrangements went. Tho dinner was irro- } n*oachable. The boisterous chambermaid rod been thrust out of sight below stairs, her placo in attendance upon tho door being supplied by a gigantic footman, who stepped about in his patent-leather pumps with sur- pri‘ing uoiiJety’BsueBs. Tho waiters (experts r'Jri* fi-fcho hotel) were at their posU. Ther$ . fidhtyiW T.1.1 g* -good tasto and stylo demanded—save tho guoets. . Tho.gontlcmim, it isArmvbegan to arrivfi- punctually, but with npologies, ono nftor the other, for tho non-uppcurance of their respective ladies, in words of such surpris ing sameness as to forcibly suggest a pre concerted agreement upon tho terms. When tho dinner hour arrived not a single lady guest lmd appeared. Eudoeia began to grow vory rod, and I was also so mortified as hardly to k: what course to talco. But suddenly mountain was lifted off my mind by Sirs. Gimp coming to tho door, and whispering to mo that Beipio was in tho hall, very drunk, and insisting on ousting tho big footman from his post of honor. “Excuso mo ono moment, gentlemen,” I excluimed exeitodly, turning to my guests; “nnd forgivo mo if I force a littlo sceno upon you at such a time and placo. But this misunderstanding has become insup- jortahle, and it is about to ho explained at ast.” in P as you aro new upon the battle field for liberal ideas, you aro right in not wishing to have tho philos ophy of your mutual relations moro openly discussed ut present,” said he, with an owl ish smile of oeoult significance. “But I will dino with you to-morrow, if agreeable, and then wo may bo able to understand each other bettor.” I conceived a suddon idoa, and acted up on it. “We intend giving a dinner party to morrow to all my old friends,” said I, rub bing my hands, and investing my voico and manner with as much geniality as I could. “Of course, such a gathering would he incomplete without tho presence of my father’s old and learned friend, Mr. Vol taire Buurian. Wo shall expect you ut “Aha! to-morrow, you say? You are bold, my boy—bold is tho word—in carry ing it so defiantly at tho start; hut perhaps you aro right. Stand like an anvil! nnd depend on mo for all tho moral support you require. Bye, byo!” “And, prav, what lunatic asylum is he from?\ was Eudocia’s satirio inquiry when wo wero again alone. “I funey ho still runs an individual ono in his own houso—he usod to,” I ropliod, not without a dreary sense of humor. “Aud were you iu earnest about tho din- nor party?” “Of courre. It was the inspiration of tho moment, hut isn’t it better, after all, my dear, to force this mysfory to a final issue at once? I shall write out tho invitations to-night, have them distributed in tho mor ning, eurly, and wo shull boo what comes of it.” Eudoeia was a sensible as well as a spir ited woman. Blio hesitated but a moment, and then so far fell iu with tho idea as to sweep across tho room and imprint a kiss on mv forehead; while I forthwith exerted myself to making her feel as much at homo as possiblo by showing hor over tho houso and grounds. Wo actually munngod to de lude ourselves into a pretty good humor by dinner-time, which I think was really creditable under the circumstances. After dinner, the writing of tbo invitar tions, iu which Eudoeia materially assisted, occupied two or three hours, und bed-tiuu found us iu a much pleasanter frame of mind than we had experienced since our uirivul. 1 Tho business of tho duy, Jiowovor, as as not to be wholly shelved witliOut a fresh mani festation of my worthy hous keeper's in comprehensibility. *•- Eudoeia had just gone into hor rooui and, after socuriug the lower pm t of tho house, us lmd been my custom, 1 was ,\boi\t to follow her, whon Mrs. Gimp confroute * A-lady recently told tho* following story, as being a clay’s adventure& of her nino-yoor-old se n : Harry is ahvays engaged’ in some mischief, nnd bis pranks aro so laugh able that I can seldom keep cn a sober face long enough to punish hinu Nearly a year ago thoro came a strolling the atrical troupe to town. They.' played tragedy and cc-medy, ixniorm ed panto mimes, and did the negro m instrel business to perfection, so tlio boya thought. But what my son Harry most admired was tho play of “Too- dies.” This ho determined* to repro duce in his own theater, with new and unlioard-of effects. There was now scenory painted on an old Bhoet, with straws from a now broom, by Bunkey Burnett; intricate etago mechanism, whittled out w ith a jack-knife, by BlouBoy Shaw; old cos tumes mado to luok ah good as new,, b y Tommy Bonnorbump, assisted by his sister-in-law, Bally Tlireaclneedlo; now appointments, by Tim Penny feather; new aud original music to bo performed on- now and vory original instrum ents, by tbo orchestra, under tbo direction of Pat Giovanni, an Italian from Ire land—tlio wholo play to bo introduced under tbo supervision of Harry Bate man, stage manager. Tbo above stupendous biT-w o u n d u p with tho following: “Tickets purchased of speculators on tho sidewalk wiU bo refused at the door! 1” Tho stage was erected in tbo wood shed, and reposed on four saw-horses. The floor consisted of two old barn doors spliced together. Tho drop-cur tain was a second-hand horse-blanket. The parquet and dress circle wero filled with largo sticks of wood, too tough to- split, sqt up or end. These wero called chairs. V y ) at tho mauage- moiit -mUod galioues w^ro two window sills.: ,:'fI’heab\#cfj?£ usim Uy small boys-at-quartc • pneo. One pri vate box*tlirs theater had for tho use of tho aristocracy. It consisted of a second-hand cupboard or wardrobe, and was mounted on wheels. Purchasers of this private box wero allowed tlio privilege of having it placed in any po sition they wished. nortilied us lmrdly to kuoyr, 1 Two “horrid big boys” onco demand- to talco. But suddontyf^W* %d that the private box should bo placed *--i •»#__ .Q exactly tlio middle of tbo stage. To this tho whole- management objected. Tho two horrid big boys twitted them with “going back on thoir word,” and triumphantly h eld uj) the management's own bill uhiVprogrammo, which read in huge lotters-^TKIVATE BO A P U T IN ANY PO S ITIO N D E S I R E D . Tho management had to succumb. Tlio wholo compauy, male and female, wore ordered out to move it. After great difficulty aud several mishaps it was hoisted into position. W hen the play commenced the company found that it obstructed tho stage so much that there was not room for them all to perform at ono time. Bo part of the actors had to got down and play in the parquet. This made tho attaches of the theater very much voxod, but the audience wore convulsed with laughter. Tho play was “Toodlos,** aud xvas re ceived with great applause. W hen that was over, the company did tho “nigger-minstrel” business. Harry’s face, and hands were made as black*us black could bo with burnt cork. Meanwhile Hurry confided to tho bones-man and tho banjoist tlio plan ho had formed to “got square” with the I think I may bo pardoned for tho nil but delirious haste with which I rushed into tho hall, swooped upon Scipio, aud dragged him by tho collar, panting and squirming, before tho assembled guests. “Toll me, you rascal! tell me!” I thun dered, “what infernal report you havo set on foot against my wife or myself that has caused us to be covered with contumely and insult! Out with it, or I will not bo responsible for tho harm I may do you!” ‘“Fore do Trono oh Grace, 'Maine Ad dersly, I ’so dono said nuffin but what you tolo rao to!’’ gasped tho miserable fellow, frightened to semi-sobriety. “I didn’t tink dey’d talco it do way dey did, sbuh’s you’re horned!” ‘^Vliat havo you told them? Speak!” “Didn’t you say fur to gib it out ns how you warn’t now-murried?” “Certainly.” “An’ so 1* did, Marso Addersly. But I | two occupants of tho private box. They wanted to mako a shuh ting, so I jist dono willingly promised to assist him. The gib it out as how you warn’t married at all.\ Tho mystery was at last out. I released tho marplot and staggered back with a wild laugh, while Eudoeia started from her chair, hor face suffused with shamo. “Gentlomon,\ she faltered, “is it pos sible that—that ---- ■\ Sho could say no moro, but hid her face. “Hero has been some awful mistake,” said Jack Whitely, coming forward and grasping my hand, after a hurried consulta tion with several others. “I sav, can you just put off tho dinner for half an hour, whilo we run homo und make certain ex planations? ” Of course wo could and of course wo did. Awav thoy wcut, and in less than the allotted time they were back uguiu, accom panied by wife, sister, or sweetheart, ac cording to tbo original programme; and not only was tho dinner-party an unquali fied success, but tho ladies mado their genuiuo and heartfelt amends so charming ly as to mako Eudoeia almost forget the embarrassing complications that had arisen, and nt once feel herself at Lome in tho really delightful society of which Tattloton could boast. Now that everything is happily roetified, tbj 11- nvncli refreshed, but, a# ho told mof* vary hungry. Thoro w£fc plenty o f food of vorious kinds in the collar on iv flpn.Cf swinging shelf, but it was too high for ' w iC him to roach. Bo lio jumped up aud stood on tho'odgo o7a soft-soap barrel. Ho leaned forward and grasped an apple-pie. As ho waf? leaning'back, lia' slipped and went souoo into tbo soft- soap tip to his nock. Then, in flounder ing around a n l trying to got out, ho tipped him self and tho soft-soap ovor. T h o y b o th camo out simultnnoously. In struggling to get up from the floor, which wus very olippory, Harry stum bled against tlio now empty barrel. Exasperated, lie drew up Ivis foot and gavo it a smart kick. It rolled back, and knocked out ti:e lau^ot’ to a brrrol of m olasses. Now followed a gTeat fl ood —molasses und soft-soap, in great quan tities, mingled togothsr—enough to float tlio littlo city o f Ragnsa. But tho best of it, or rather tho worst c f it, was, - that Harry did not know that the mo lasses barrel’ had been broached. It was very darhin the cellar; and oven if it hnd not been, he m ight not havo dis covered the leakage, far tho barrel, which he so unfortunately kicked, lay closo up to tho stream of molasses which was running so that Harry did not discover it, and it s lid into the soft soap so easily that ho didn’t bear it running. Tho fact is, tile boy’s mind wms on liis new Buit of clothes during all tills catastrophe. They were c om- pletely saturated with soft soap. Ho was afraid they would be entirely spoiled, or at least that tho color would come out, if they wero not immediatply rinsed cleun. It -was im p ossible to get out of tbo cellar, and tliero was no water to bo had in it. He had spoiled three suits of clothes lately, and now, at tho fourth one, he was afraid his mother’s patienco would give out. W hat should lie do? O, what should he do ? A happy and original thought struck him. The dear boy showed a real genius. Ho* s a id : “I w ill wash them out with cider!” Ho stripped naked to the skin,laid his soapy clothes under tho cider barrel faucet, and then turned it. W hen they wero w e ll saturated, he took them, a piece at a time, in his hands, and rubbed them back and forth over Iris knuckles like a re*gular washerwoman. Ju s t then his father and I came home. \Ve were told by somo boys whom wo met that Harry was asleep in the cellar. As soon os wo arrived we light ed a lantern and went down, and there we found him, stark naked, standing before a barrel and washing his clothes out with cider. Oh, he war* the most comical nnd laughablo sight that le v e r behold! His face was m b h e k r*s a ne gro's, tbo burovso?!: no- wiftohwd off since Ihe perfonhfinv.e, and % A i in contrast his delicate little body „in.... the gloom looked as whito ns mi rblo. I need not dwell upon the false impressions ....................... hu i't ' that had, porhaps b miturally, prevailed, cither as entertained by the Btieklers, tho Tumlil* tios, Miss Fryer, Mr. Buurian, old Mrs. Gimp, or any of the rest. Buffioo it to say that oveiything was ngre« Ido thereafter. Eudoeia did not dis dain to huvo our marriage certifieato duly framed and conspicuouslyglisjdayed iu tho druwing-yooiu, after tho prevailing rustic on. torn. As for Beipio, ho wus fortjj“,;*1, rclegatoi) to less dohoMw-'eo^cfrtffau upon which liis heudloug oVor-zeul had so1 mo ut tho head of tho sta irw ith <(*om- | ntaity^uiotaupusaedour uoiuobtio vuiu, i moment tho performance was over, Harry and his partners rushed for tho private box, violently shut tlio door, fastened it with a broom-handle, and then kicked tho who'o concern over. As it fell, tlio two aristocrats inside gavo a y e ll of rage, and threatened to lick the wholo company “liko blazes. * “Whon you catch us,” the boys shout ed. Then thoy boat a retreat, each gp< ing in a different direction. Mr. Harry rau into tho collar, fastened tho door, and then crouched dowu in a corner. In a few minutes tho lato oecupnnts of tho privato box arrived at tho cellar- door, vowing veugeanco. But tlio door was too »tout lo bo broker*, They gavo up all hopes of wheedling him out on tlio pretense of iriendohip, and at last with.ham m er a\tl irailn thoy fastened him iu. On gohiir away lim y lxulo “by-by,” “ l.op*d bo would have a good tim e,” ami, furihiinnoro, t« ay invited him iu a Aory ‘•areatdio manner “to call up and tnke diuuei with than, r.t four o’clock—Ihst i«, if he couLJ got out.” Tliero was no o*cmpe for pool littlo lT u r v , they vo>y v e i l know, until J should get homo at tix oVloek and re lease him by opening tho inside door which t ommunicated with tlio pantry. Tlio windows to tho cellar wero those called bull’s cyos, and thoy wero so sm all th a t Ilarry, blonder as ho was, could not squirm through them. Tho littlo follow roulizod tho situation, and .accepted it without a bit of whining. He duy dqwn ou tlio top of two soap boxes and went to sloe)). In about two hours ho awoko Yery Tho collar floor was covered wiih v4j^*q# soap, m olasses aud cider, and in these mixed liquids floated pies, cakes, cook- iea, apples, pears, poaches, throe loaves of bread, and two lumps of butter. A ll this we discovered in an instant. I was making the whole house riug with laughter, but my husband had thus far kept on a sober face, thinking, I sup pose, of tho damage. Ho looked ter ribly cross at Harry, and said sternly, “Come here, sir, and toll mo what you made all this mess for! You w ill cateli it, young man, I can tell voul” Harry was frightened aud ran. H a went racing' ground tho collar, still naked, with his blai:k face, aud swing ing liis pants iu his left hind. My hus band caught him by tho shoulder. Tho littlo rogue gavo a dive headforemost between his fathor’s legs and thoy both ■went dawn into tho soap, molasses, aqd cider. Harry was up in an instant He mado for the stairs; but his father headed him off, and tlio little fellow was obliged to take refuge in,, tho ash- bin. . H is body being wot, tlio ashes stuck to him, which made him tho most ridiculous thing in existoneo. I was so nearly killed with laughing that I oxpocted to fall down from sheer weak ness. Just then Harry camo up and clasped, his arms around my knees. Ho had just time to say, “O, mother! O, moth-- er, please don’t lot father whip mo l” when liko an avalanche Iris father bora, down upon us. The floor was so slip pery,. and lie had g o t under such head way,. that ho could not stop. The con- sequeneo was that wo all went down to gether into the slippary flood. Tho. lantern went out, and wo wero loft in almost total darkness. My husband. Inowbegau to laugh; I joined him;; Ilarry e$mo in ou tho chorus. \Wo all. laughed together for fifteen minutes. Then wo laughed for ten. Harry now stood up, and putting his greasy arms, around his father’s neck, said,. “D e a r father, I did not mean tes indeed I did, u o t !” Tliero was silence for a moment*, and then his futhor answered, “W ell, Harry, since you aro net alone iu it, w a will be forgiving au«l let you off thh* tim e.”— Our Younu Folksl Frozen Kindness. Tha world, is fu ll of kindness that; uovor was spaken, and that is not much better than uo kindness at all. Tha fuel* in the stovo makes tho room warm, but thore are great pilos of fallen troea lying on rocks and tops of, Hills whoro nobody can got them ; those do not make anybody warm. You might freeze to death for want of wood, in plain bight of these fallen trees, if you had no moans of getting tho wood homo and making a liro of it. Just so in a _ fam ily; lo w is what makes the parents and children, the brothers and sister j Jz _ __ happy. B u t if thoy take care never t say a word about it, if they keep it T® profound secret, as if it were a crim i they will uot be much happier th a u - iS H \ tliero was not any love among tho house will seem cool, eveu iu lacr, aud il y°u live there you will ~ “ the dog when any quo culls Uiw/ follow. \ ■ i ■71 \ H.i-i *•'
