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AN M. P33 INFATUATION.
A DOMESTIC DIFFERENCE.
The general impression among Jim
Percival’s friends was that he might
have done a good deal better for him-
self than he did in his matrimonial
venture. ' .
An M. P., with a safe seat and de-
cided abilities, young, good-looking,
well Connected, but having only a
limited income, he was just the man
who should have married money, and
this is exactly what he had not done.
He met his wife in Paris during a holi-
day trip. She was a. pretty, viva-
cious Irish woman, lady-like and at-
tractive, but she had no fortune, and
was of no particular family. The M.
P.’s friends shook their heads over the
match, and all felt convinced that be-
fore long he would find out what a
mistake he had made.
There could be no doubt that under
the circumstances his marriage was an
imprudent one. With his eight hun-
dred pounds a year Percival had
subsisted comfortably -enough as a
bachelor, but as a married M. P. he
found that his income went simply no
way at all. To cut himself off from so-
ciety and to live with his wife in econom-
ical seclusion was, of course, out of the
question. It would have made him un-
popular with _ his constituents, as well
as with certain influential friends in
town, to whose good offices he looked
for securing some post in the govern-
ment when his party came back to
power. And as he had no profession,
but had launched himself for good or
ill upon a parliamentary career, it
,. would have been madness in him to
prejudice his chances of political pre-
ferment.
The natural consequence followed.
Percival got into debt. He consoled
himself first of all for outrunning the
constable by the consideration that his
. party must soon return to power, and
then he should be able to recoup his
present expenditure. But the radicals
remained “in” session after session;
the looked-for general election came
no nearer, and Percival began to feel
very lugubrious indeed. He already
owed nearly one thousand pounds
'r—B. crushing liability to a man with
a small income and no capital; in-
,deed, he did not attempt to disguise
from himself. that unless something
very unexpected tprned up he must
soon be hopelessly insolvent. His wife
had long been urging immediate and
rigid retrenchment, but each time she
mentioned it Percival shook his head.
The house was in committee on a
bill which was being fought tooth and
nail by the opposition, and ‘urgent
whips had been issued to the members
of both parties to r. as frequently as
possible in their 3_ laces. But there
were many dreary intervals of debate,
when no big division was imminent,
and during those intervals Percival did
not always remain in the precincts of
the house. '
He might no doubt have spent them
at home or in escorting his wife to one
or other of the numerous social func-
tions which, for his sake, she so re-
ligiously attended. But in his worried
state of mind the dullness of a domes-
tic evening, or the yet deadlier bore-
dom of a political conversazione, was
uninviting. He preferred to forget his
troubles in more enlivening scenes.
Within a mile of the Palace of ,West—
minister there is, as all the world
knows, a famous theater of varieties.
It is under unexceptionable manage-
ment; it puts forward the strongest
and most enterprising programme of
the kind in London. One evening dur-
ing a particularly drowsy debate a fel-
low M. P. had suggested to Percival
that they should run across to the X.
and see the Rainbow danseuse. Perci-
val had complied. After that night
he went to see her pretty regularly.
" Just before the dance the stage was
darkened; behind loomed a background
of murky clouds, gloomy as the sky
before an impending thunderstorm;
then a brilliant blaze of sunlight burst
upon the shadowed scene, and whirl-
ing wildly in its dazzling rays ap-
peared the famous Rainbow danseuse.
What a sight that was! How dexter-
ously she managed her mass of gor-
geous draperies, which floated all about
her, and swirled and spun like a re-
volving wheel. At times nothing but
the flashing hues of these robes was
visible; at other times a lovely face,
crowned with golden yellow locks,
stood out among them, radiant, spirit-
ual, superb—and then, while this en-
trancing apparition smiled and the
audience clapped, and shouted, rum-
blings of thunder rolled upon the air;
clouds overcast the sunlight; and,
amid their gathering gloom, the Rain-
bow goddess faded slowly from the
scene. ‘
If it had ended with his merely ad-
miring this ravishing beauty from a
distance, all might have been well.
But such infatuation as Percival’s was
n..t satisfied to confine itself within
those modest limits. A strong desire
came over him to make her personal
acquaintance. He ought, of course, to
have withstood it. It should have been
perfectly obvious to him that, in giv-
ing way to his desire, he was volun-
tarily thrusting himself into the path
of danger. ’
But he gave way, nevertheless. He
went farther. He actually addressed
one or two letters to the young lady.
To his great chagrin she sent him no
reply. At last, in desperation, he pro-
cured an introduction to the manager
of the X., and besought' that gentle-
man’s aid in his foolish and culpable
project. ‘
“Just so,” said the. manager, rather
coldly. “Well, Mr. Percival, I will
communicate your wish to the young
lady. and will then let you know her
reply. I cannot hold out hopes that it
- will be favorable, for a number ‘of oth-
er gentlemen have desired introduc-
tion to her. and have all been refused.
You see, she is a simple, modest girl,
who ismerely using her talent to sup-
port her family, and has no desire for
acircle .of male admirers. However,
as I said, I will tell her that you wish
to be introduced.” ’
The following night when he ought
c
to have been in his place in the house,
listening to the ministerial leader’s
statement, he was hovering near the
his mind to follow his goddess home,
and so find out her private address.
Percival had a cab waiting for him
at the corner. He noticed another cab
drawn up opposite the stage door. He
strolled up and accosted the driver.
“You’re a lucky man to have such a
charming fare,” said Percival care-
lessly.
“00 said I ’ad a charmin’ fare?” re-
torted the man, suspiciously. Then
he added: “If that’s your sort, young
feller, you may save yourself the
trouble of doin’ the civil to me. For
she’s a thoroughly good young ’ooman,
I can tell yer, and won’t stand no fol-
lowers foolin’ around—not she!”
Percival affected to, laugh and
strolled away. In a few minutes he
'saw the girl hurry out and get into her
cab. Then he jumped into his own—
having instructed the driver to follow
the other vehicle and keep it carefully
in sight.
When they had driven about a mile
his cab stopped. The M. P. got out.
He saw the young lady alighting from
her cab about a hundred yards ahead.
She turned and walked rapidly away.
With a beating heart and trembling
steps, he followed her, keeping an in-
terval of seventy or eighty yards be-
tween them.
She had not alighted at her own
door, but at the end of a street of pri-
vate houses, down which she was now
walking. Percival realized with a
certain thrill of uneasiness that it was
P street, the street in which his
own house was situated. But something
worse was in store. The young lady
stopped, appeared to be carefully scru-
tinizing the numbers, then, after some
evident hesitation, she walked straight
up to the door of Percival’s house and
rang the bell. A minute later she was
admitted.
All at once the truth flashed upon
the unhappy M. P. There could, of
course, be no doubt upon the subject.-
This young lady, annoyed and fright-
ened by his persistent attentions, and
seeing that silent disdain had no ef-
fect in stopping them, had taken the
ready and elfe ctive method of report-
ing him to his wife!
Percival leaned against some iron
railings, near which he stood and
wiped his clammy forehead with his
handkerchief. His dismay was al-
together beyond words. If he had
been on bad terms with his wife—nif
love on either side had ceased between
them —if she had not been perfectly
loud and trusting toward him he could
have stood the thing better. But as
it' was he felt like a man who had sud-.
denly received a knock-down blow.,
His knees were trembling violently?
a sense of sickness, of faintness, stole
over‘ him; in the face of this fearful ex-
posure his infatuation for the danseuse
seemed to die; for the first time he
seemed to realize what an abject idiot
he had been.
It was a long time before he could.
make up his mind how to act. He-
patrolled the street for more than half
an hour before he had decided—and a
had half hour he found it. Then he
took a sudden resolution. He would
go in and make a clean breast of the
whole affair to his wife. That, after
all, was the most honest, and, proba-
bly, the most prudent course. She
might, or she might not believe him;
but he would tell her all the truth,
express his sincere penitence, and
throw himself upon her mercy.
He nerved himself to the effort. He
went in. He entered the drawing-
room. Hiswife was now alone. She
looked up at him with a cold, altered
expression, that made him wince. But
he persevered. He spoke. He told her
all. She averted her face, and heard!
his confession to the end in ominous
silence.
“And so, Jim, my make-up, my
golden wig, and my wedding draperies
—to say nothing of the shifting lights
and the shadows thrown upon one,
bafiied even your penetration, eh, sir?”
Jim was staring at his pretty wife,
who had now risen and stood before
him, smiling archly, in evident enjoy-
ment of his obvious relief and astonish-
ment.
“And you fell in love with my make-
up. For that is what it comes to,
doesn’t it, Jim?”
“By Jove!” he exclaimed with em-
phasis, “that explains it. It was your
eyes that did it, little girl. They drew
me to the theater night after night to "
worship you. I could not resist their
spell. I could not explain it to myself.
Yet I felt there was something half
familiar in their magnetic influence
upon me. To think, I'never guessed.
By Jove! I was a duffer. I ought to
have known that no such other eyes
were to be‘found in all England!”
“Or in all America, either?” ques-
tioned the Rainbow danseuse, playful-
ly. Jim’s explanation was, uncon-
sciously, the most diplomatic that he
could have devised. Those incompara-
ble eyes beamed upon him with tender-
ness and loving humor.
“But, I say,” asked Jim, an idea
striking him, “these social functions
which you have been attending so as-
siduously for the past few months-—
have they been simple blinds to dupe
your unsuspicious husband—eh, J en-
nie?”
“Not at all, sir. I went to them all.
But as my ‘turn’ at the theater lasted
only ten minutes or so, I was able to
go there as well. Besides,” she added,
with the slightest tinge of playful re-
proach in her tone, “you have not been
at home enough lately to miss me very
much, have you, Jim?”
“By Jove!” he cried,-“I’ll turn over a
new leaf in that respect to-night.”
He went up, placed his- arm round
his wife, and kissed her fondly. She
leaned her head upon his shoulder and
held up a pink slip of paper to his
eyes
“There! Dear old Jim!” she exclaimed.
“Mr.
you think? Fifty pounds a week.
That is a check for ten weeks’ salary.
‘At this rate your Rainbow goddess
will soon dance you clear out of debt——
won’t she, Jim?” '
And she soon did.-—-—London Truth.
Y—-—— has paid me—what d‘p
stage door of the X. Hehad made up .
I
DECORATION DAY)
Composed by H. R. BISHOP.
Allegro 0 la milz'taz're.
for. '
ma»
, \r ‘
1. If I had a bean For a sol - dier who’d go, Do you think I’d say no? no, no, not I!
2. When my 501 - diet was gone, D’ye think I'd take on, Sit mop - ing for-lorn? no, no, not I!
V
Dofiyou think I’d say no? no,
Sit . mop - ing for - lorn?’ no,
' .
For a Sol - dier who’d go,
D’ye' think I’d take/on,
hWheu his blue coat I saw,
His fame may con-corn,
not I'
not V 1!...CCIOOIOCIOOCIO.
(‘2 pp. ).2_. Copyright, 1894, by The New York Musical Echo Co.
for his bra - ver - y!
crown’d With V'l'C. . to - ryi
“ e - clat”
re - turn
him
But d give
him
sigh would it draw,
When I saw
bo - som would burn,
. ;,
m/ \I'.‘
mf alromb
ad lib.
If an arimy of Am-a-zons e’er came in As a dashing blue Sergeant I’d
march 23. - way. A dashing blue Sergeant I‘d march a - way, march a - way,
march a — way, march a, - way,»... ...... march a - way, marcha - way, ........... marcha - way, march 31. - way, .........
. a.
A ' '
march a - way,... ..... . ' way.
march a -
R'UINED BY PIE.
Love for _ This Pastry Barred gin Out of
the Pulpit and Drove mm tarot-gory.
A most singular case is now, in the
courts at ' Kingston, in this state! A
young man living there was lately
. found to be a forger, and when he con-
fessed he said he was driven to the-
crime by an ungovernable gluttony for
mince pie. To satisfy his craving he
had forged the signature of a, wealthy
,man to a note for one thousand dollars,
and had got the paper discounted, says
the Buffalo Courier. With the proceeds
he went on a mince-pie spree, and had
devoured sixty dollars’ worth of this
pastry before he was arrested. '
According to his story his extraordi-
nary liking for mince pie began to
show itself when he was a boy. He
seemed even then to feel that there
was something abnormal in his appe-
tite, for he went voluntarily to Bloom-,
ingdale asylum in the hope of being
cured of his gluttony. After he came
out he believed he was cured and be-
gan to study for the ministry. But .
in a fatal hour, about two years later,
the mania for_ pie came upon him
with irresistible power. , He broke
into the housekeeper’s closet in the
Auburn Theological seminary, where
he was a student, and gorged himself
with mince pie. His relapse so preyed
upon him that he went to the faculty,
and they advised him,’ he says, to drop
his studies, as it would be det-
rimental to the ministerial call-
ing for him to enter _ it with
such a fatal appetite for mince pie. He
would be likely to suffer a seizure of his
mania at a supper in the church parlors
or at the table of one of his flock, and
create an unforgetable scandal. He
took the advice of the faculty and
went to peddling clothes-wringers and
bed springs, but his malady was now
so deep seated that he subordinated
everything to his craving. He devel-
oped an unusual cunning for stealing
mince pie, or in getting the money
with which to purchase it. “I would
be tempted,” said he, “and fall; go to a
restaurant and eat a pie and a half or
two pies. I became as helpless a vic-
tim to the mince pie habit as the drunk-
ard is to the drink habit. Sometimes I
have pawned my overcoat or my watch
when I have seen an uncommonly
luscious pie in a window and have not
had enough ready money to buy it.”
Then came the forging of the note
and the pie orgy which ended in his ar-
rest. After hearing his story a com-
mission was appointed to inquire into
his sanity, and it is likely that, in-
stead of being sent to a penitentiary,
he will be placed in a lunatic asylum.
He is described as a thin, nervous-look-
ing man with a wild expression, which
is disappointing, for many a man of
New England ancestry would be glad
to cultivate this lunacy if it would not
spoil his complexion and keep him
awake nights. if:
HOW‘WOM EN’S-WHEELS DEVELOP
Only a Few Years Ago Manufacturers
Would Not Make Them.
It affords the pioneer women cyclers
no little amusement and.- satisfaction to
“recall the days when bicycle manufac-
turers, in reply torequests for women’s
wheels, would say with emphasis:
“We have never manufactured a wom-
an’s wheel and we never will.” In
those early days of’ wheeling, bicycles
for American women were imported
from England. One- woman who had
never seen a bicycle-,but- 'had read of
them and was possessed of the true.
wheeling spirit, bought one of these
cumbrous machines; It had wheels
thirty inches high, weighed over fifty
pounds, had a solid tire and cost one
hundred and forty dollars. The first
ride of the owner upon this machine of
solid weight and worth covered ten
miles, and produced a sprained ankle,
a black eye and an entirely demolished
gown. The rider’s spirit was unbroken,
however, and, after a rest of two
weeks, she mounted again and rode to
victory. In these days of teachers,
trainers and countless comfortable ap-
pliances, it is refreshing to know of
these Spartan achievements.
While many women ride diamond
frames and an increased number will
doubtless continue to do so, the radical
differences between a man’s wheel and
a woman’s will always be the drop
frame. When the bicycle is regarded
simply aS’a vehicle and not as a toy or
machine for display, the majority of
women will. probably wear skirts. A
short skirt of sensible length avoids the
actual danger of entanglement in chain
or pedals. Still the» inventor who can
find any method .of placing the chain
under cover in a drop frame, without
adding to the weight of the wheel, will.
meet a “long-felt want.” Along this
line the especial development of the
*woman’s machine must come.
Out of the multitude of counselors is
finally coming wisdom on the subject
of woman’s bicycle» dress. The latest
results attained enable a rider to go
fitted for any kind of weather. She
may start in low shoes, heavy woolen
stockings, knickerbockers and light-
weight silk blouse on a hot summer
morning, with a soft, round felt hat or
cap with visor to protect her eyes. She
can also carry a small package, and, if
it rains, take from that package a jacket
with square revers, which buttqn back
on themselves or across each "‘"other.
The jacket, knickerbockers and cap are
all rainproof. If it grows colder'she
may don leggins and skirt of a length
above the ankles, also rainproof. Thus
equipped. she can defy the elementst
The greatest stress should be placed
upon a jacket which will cover the ches.
and protect the lungsif necessary. '
Her Only Chance.
On the corner of two Boston streets 3
young man was peering through a sure.»
veyor’s leveling instrument and making
signals to his partner, who stood in
front of the schoolhouse above. A little,
girl, coming from out the schoolhouse
later than her mates, caught sight of
the instrument, smoothed out her dress
and posed in front of it. A big police-
man came along. “‘Move on, little'one,”
said he.
“Don’tfyou seel’m getting my picture‘_‘,‘_.
teak?” '
“I can’t,” simpered the child. a - .
Norwalk Chronicler