Norwalk Chronicler

Norwalk gazette, Friday, April 2, 1897 · page 10

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‘ ‘ fileHMmRon OFT LIFE.

700 you wish for kindness? Be kind.
_ Do you long for truth? Be true..
What you give or y ours -lf, you find
Your world is a. reflex of you. ,
For life is a mirror. You smile,
And a smile is your sure return.
.Bcar hate in your heart axid'erewhile
.All your world with hatred will burn.
538!) love against love. Every deed
. Shall armed as a. fate recoil
”You shall gamer your fruit from the Swell
That you cast yourself in the soil.
Each act is a separate link
In the cnain of your weal or your woc;
<Cups you offer another to drink,
The taste of their drags you shall know.
—Exchange.

THE EDIMW‘HFE

Great was the consternation when
the rumor was circulated through the
suffice that Harding was to be married
--——“actually married to a woman,” as
lEdkins remarked, in a voice of mingled
.‘pit-y and contempt, as he imparted the
mews to Judkins, the night editor.

Every one was disgusted, for wasn‘t

 

' 'Harding the exclusive property of the

Advocate’s men?

And to share him with any woman
"was beyond all question.

“Fuu's all up,” dolefully remarked
Judkins, as he buried his hands deep
in his pockets, and blessed his stars for
dais own unattached condition.

"‘Just imagine Harding‘s rooms with
:2 Woman in ’em,” in a voice of utter
mmtempt. “No more midnight gather-
ings Ethere, my boy; no W’elsh rarebit,
mlcards, with a seasoning of smoke—-
032,311an it, no nothing. Tidies, and
ribbon, and bric-a-brac, and goodness
knows what, wherever you step. J ust
éa'ilittl‘e call, and ‘Good evening, Mrs.
flaming; no, can’t stop, have an as-
signment,’ and off, leaving Harding
trying to look happy, with a silk scarf
twisted round his neck, and his feet

.mlumb up against some other work of

art. Hang it, what is the man think
ing of?” and J-udkins started up as if
he would go to the protection of" his
Inisgnlded fellow editor.

‘Jiut that same misvuidcd young man
Seemed in no apparent need of protec-
than, for he laughed and joked with
Elie boys in his old-time manner, and
milieu Judkins’s dismal prognostica—
tions were related to_him his amuse-
ment knew no bounds. Then and there
The'invited them to just come up and
see, when he was married, for “I‘ll
Warrant you,” he said, “that Mrs. II.
will prove a strong rival to my box of
Arcadian mixture, to which Edkins is
so-altached, and every blessed one of
you will wish you were in my shoes
before the first evening is over, for”—
and here Harding, for the first time in
the history of thc ofiice. descended to
the trite and commonplace—“she isn’t
like other girls, you know—she—”

iBut here an explosion of pent-up
‘wrat‘h burst from the group, and
Harding was suddenly ejected from
the office, and as he stared blankly at
the closed doors, behind which came
most undignificd sounds, he was heard
to murmur:

“I wonder what I said,” which goes
to prove that even a callous editor is
sometimes human.

4.: 1: It 3 ‘

But this was all a year ago. Now
Harding was safely married. The boys
were sure of that. As a proof of their
fievotion they had sufiered themselves
be appear in evening dress at the wed-
ding; had been properly presented I!)
the bride as “the boys, you know," and
after paying duezattentlon to the pretty
Mdesmaids, they had retired to the
ofilce,andthere held secret conclavc
7over.grlasses and pipes, and there early
morning had found them, still wonder-
Eng how any sane man could be so in
xane as Harding had been.

a a: t a: at

Now things were difierent. “She
isn‘t like other women." Judkins had
neluctantly admitted after their first
mall-

“She really isnft, you know; and I
guess, after all, it won‘t be so bad.
She‘s almost one of us, you know, only
somehow better and sweeter, and all
that, and I shouldn’t wonder if we’d
fiettcr ease up a little on Harding.”

And so, to quote Jud’kins, she was
“almost one of them.”

vHarding's rooms had never seemed
aeohospitable as, now, his big chairs
never so tempting, and nights when
like boys couldn‘t. drop in for a mo-
ment’s chat, at least, were off nights
with them. ‘

“I tell you it braces a fellow up," Ed-
kins explained, in apology, the second
time Judkins found him there.

“She's so awfully interested in all
can we do, you know, and gives a fel-
limwlots of tips. She ought to be on
itbe‘p‘aper herself, and I told her so,
knit. bless you. she blushed, and asked
if I didn‘t think that she was better
{adapted to making chocolate, and
handed me a cup, just as I likeit, and
ms no one else on earth can make it but
51m."

“That finished you, old boy, 01
aroursc," and Judkins laughed.

“But, honestly, you’re right. Hard-
fmg has improved wonderfully, and
your pet column has gone up 50 pcr
fluent, and the society stuff isn’t half
ms lame. '

“We're almost up, to the Vindicator
now, and if it wasn’t for the confound-
énd scoops they get on us we’d lead the
flown; but I say, Ed"— and here Jud-
Rims paused and glanced down thc
sheet, as if he feared the approach of
.me one—“it seems kind of mean to
m it, but did you ever think that
flaming isn‘t juSt square with his
write, but makes deals with that wo-
‘Iman on the Vindicator staff?

“130, I’m not crazy,” as his compan-
31m stopped short and faced him:

“‘l‘ve been lwking this thing up, and
will wasn‘t for Mrs. H. I‘d give thc
3:;an the biggest sensation in years.

“"Jt would mean discharge to Hard»
Mg mud promotion to me, and, hang it,

his it ism! a temptation. But there is ,

; Fostcr‘s manly voice rang out,
‘ out giving his superior editor :1 chance

 

s

that wife of his: somehow"—end
spoke slowly—”somehow I don't lil
to hurt her.

“Oh! yes. I've got facts,” as Edi-in
started to interrupt him.

“Mat upset the waste bas‘ket on m.‘
desk one morning, and didn’t pick. a L
the Scrum up, and there on my des-
was a letter signed ‘Daisy.’ ThougI-l
I’d-have a cliance to guy some of you
fellows, So I read it.

“'Twas from the editorial rooms (I
the Vindicator, and was addressed t1

Harding, and said, ‘Meet me at 1 i1 .

the park. I must see you. Daisy.’

"You could have knocked me flat.
but ,I followed it up by sending a boy
to follow Harding. I knew enough not
to follow him myself. and he came
back with a full account of Harding
meeting a veiled lady in the park, and
they stood for a long time in a seclud-
ed spot talking very eagerly, and
Harding held her hand, and, as the
boy expressed it, looked ‘sweet’ at her.

"Then I put that with the fact that
Harding was the only one who could
get an interview with the Vindicator
on that Maybee affair, and every one
knows that the power behind the
throne there is a woman. And it
strikes me that we have a pretty plain
case. Harding is struck on the girl,
and she is playing with him for the
benefit of the Vindicator.

“See, my boy?"

Edkins drew a deep breath.

,“Yes, I see what you say. and if it‘s
true, by jingo, Judkins, we‘ll thrash
Harding, that is all.

“I’m off,” and Edkins departed with
an abruptness that was unusual, even
to that eccentric individual.

The story grew, as it was whispered
from man to man, and there was an
uneasiness in the little circle that was
wont to gather at the Hardings’, for
all save Harding and his wife were
acutely conscious of what the others
were thinking. They alone were bright
and cheery.

But the plot deepened as young Fos-
tcr, who had been simply tolerated as
a clever young fellow by the older
men, became a frequent caller at the
IIardings.

“The boy is in love,” was the verdict
of the older men, “and now we‘re in a
mess, and how are we going to get out
of it?”

Affairs were in this condition when
one night Judkins and Edkins reached
the Hardings’ earlier than usual to
find Harding very ill at ease, and his
wife's face flushed and her eyes bright.

There was an awkwardness for a
few moments, which even Mrs. Hard-
ing, with her quickly recovered com-
posure, was unable to dispel.

Suddenly, without the least ccrc~
mony, the door opened and young Fos-
ter walked in.

He hardly noticed the men. but
walked straight to where Mrs. Hard-
ing sat in her low chair. by the tea-
table, and, kneeling down beside her,
he caught her hand in his and raised
it to his lips.

"he fut-cs of the men were a puzizh‘d
cxprcssiun. and .lllt'liéills burst om.
“It‘s (imc this thing was cleared up!
l‘cr hcavcn‘s sake, Harding. what is it
all about?"

"This is what it‘s all about." young
v. lth-

lo speak.

"It means that you are an old duffel:
Judkius. with your clues and your sto-
ries. and all that. Harding here is the.
only sane man on the paper.

"The nice little story you trumped up
is all bosh, for here is your Vindicator
girl whom Harding is struck on," and
he smiled down into the face of Editor
Harding's wife.

"Yes, you fellows." he continued,
“this is your ‘girl’ who managed all
the scoops, and ‘played with llardlng’
for the information she got.

“She's the smartest newspaper wo—
man in this country, and the best
woman in the world.

"Do you know what she has done?

“No. of course you don‘t; you've
been to busy ferreting out your mys-
tery.

“Well, every blessed one of those
scoops you thought stolen she worked
out for herself, and had it all in copy
before you ever dawdlcd here and gos-
siped about it.

“And when she might have had the
biggest scoop of all. and been "known
the country over, and had her prico
for it all. She gave it up, gave up her
position on the Vindicator, all because
it touched the honor of one of our men.
As she told the managing editor. when
she absolutcly refused to give the
names he asked:

“ ‘I have been an editor, but. thank
God, before l was that, and, despite of
it, I have bccn a woman also. and I am
Editor Harding's wife, and I will not
betray the good name of one of his
men.’ ”

The strong voice broke. “It was my
father's name," he continued, "and
now my father is dead.”

Thcre was a Silence for a moment.

Then it was broken by the sweet
voice of Editor Harding's wife.

"You take two lumps, I believe. Mr.
Edkins? You see I remember."

’l: =l= i: 3!: =It

"Which goes to show.” said Judkins,
as they trudged home an hour later.
“that really ‘she isn't like other
womcn’."

The Conlfol't of Job.

I’orter (returning in a hurry)—Bcg
pardon, sir, but I was a-makiu’ a mis.
take when I says your train starts
from No. 6 platform. I have ascer-
tained that it ’as previously started
from No. 5. In bother words, sir, you
'ave lost it.-—Pick-Me—Up.

 

A French Canadian couple. Louis:
Darwin and his wife, living in St. Paul,
recently celebrated the cightieth an-
'niversary of their marriage. The bus-

band is 107 years old and his wife is.

I01.

I
!

 

vTAXlNG CHURCH esopemv.‘

Rev. Madison C. Peters Take- am Unusual
Position Against Exemption.

The pastor "of the Bloomingdale Re-
formed Church of New York, Rev.
Madison 0. Peters argue; for the tax-
ation of church property in this wise:
“The American people would rise
up in rebellion against direct taxation
for church support, but what is ex‘
cmption from taxation but an indirect

 

' State support of the church, a virtual

subsidy for its support, and at the ex-
pense of the general public? Taxes
have to be paid, and the preperty that
is exempt or rather omitted from the
tax roll, is simply spread upon the oth-
er property. Everybody-'5 tax goes up
a least one-tenth in New York city De-
cau._ , of the exemption of church prop-
criy.”

"The churches enjoy no immunity
from the operations of the laws of
God. They place roofs upon their
buildings to keep out the rain, and put
up lightning rods to prevent the light-
ning from striking them. If God does
not vary his laws for the benefit of the
churches, why should the State be ex-
pected to do so?"

“It is argued that many churches are
not self-sustaining at present, and that
to tax them would render them still
less so. Thousands are less able to pro-
vide for their children because of the
tax collector. Why should the laborer
pay taxes upon his humble home and
the religious corporation be ex-
empted?” .

“The saloon keeper by force of law is

t compelled to help pay the taxes on my

church, in the use of which I denounce
his infernal traffic. If the saloon keep-
cr is taxed to support my church, in
all fairness he ought to have some-
thing to say in its management. "No
taxation without representatiou."

“Churches are undoubtedly a public
benefit, but if the doctrine of benefits
be furnished as a reason for chmp-
tion on behalf of religious corporations,
it refutes itself by proving more than
the State can admit without bankrupt-
ing itself, for there are other institu-
tions which are public benefits. It
costs the community something to enjoy
property, and if the Church paid taxes,
it would pay only its honest share to
secure its enjoyment of the use of
property.”

“Taxation of church property is to
the interest of American principles,
and in harmony with the experience of
nations. Taxing one man for the pro-
pagation of another man’sreligion is
admittedly unjust. and, moreover, it is
a relic of the principle of Church and
State alliance inherited from the Old
“'orld, and not yet eliminated from
our political system."

PEOPLE OF PHOMINENCE.

Mrs. John Sherman, wife of the Sec-
rotary of State, is an elderly woman,
well read and deeply interested in cur-
rent events. Next year she and Secre-
tary Sherman will be able to celebrate
their golden wedding.

Mrs. Miles. the wife of General
Miles. and Mrs. Cameron, the wife of
Senator Cameron, are two very well-
known and distinguished women in
Washington society. They are sisters,
and are nieces of Secretary Sherman.
their father being Judge Sherman, of
Cleveland, Ohio.

Mrs. McKinley is extremely fond of
children, and has many loyal little
friends and admirers in different parts
of the country. The loss of her two
little daughters more than twenty
years ago has been a ceaseless grief
to both Mrs. McKinley and her hus-
band. Mrs. McKinley’s health has
never been entirely restored since the
affliction came upon her. Her little
nieces and nephews are great pets with
her, and the White House will still
ccho with the patter of little feet and
the music of childish voices.

Mr. Stratton. the Cripple Creek mil-
lionaire, who used to be a day laborer,
refuses to go into any money-making
schemes on the ground that he wants
to keep his income down and not in-
crease it. He doesn’t seem yet to have
lumed that many so-called, money-
l‘..'.ll-(llif..‘,‘ schemes urged on. millionaires
are admirably calculated to reduce in-
('0? cs to 70"“.

( -.-. :‘l‘::l ‘ ae” Shelby left a most in-
ICI'E-NL'N collection of relics of the
Confederacy. One of his prized pos-
sessions was a daguerreotype of three
boys—Shelby himself, Frank Blair and
B. Graiz Brown. It is recalled that

Shelby‘s mother was both rich and
generous, and when she sent her son to
school in Philadelphia she sent the
other boys, who were poor, with him.

THE WAY OF THE WORLD.

 

 

Party 'with Basket (on left)——Ab,
that’s the way of the world! “Yester-
day I had chicking in my basket an’ be
was my willin’ slave; today she’s got
turkey and cold puddin’ in her basket
an’ he don‘t reckernise me leTruth.

 

SAFE RULES FOR BICYCLING.
Things to Do and to Avoid. aaSct Forth by
a Physician.

1. In purchasing a wheel take as
much care to have it fit you as you
would in obtaining a gown or a suit
of clothes. '

2. Be sure that when sitting upright
you do not have to reach to maintain
the ball of the foot on the pedal dur-
ing an entire revolution.

3. Adjust the handle bars at alevel
which, when the arms are fully ex-
tended. Will keep the body in an almost
upright position. In riding long dis-
tances, the handle bars should be drop-
pcd a trifle, so as to increase the lev-
erage by «a backward as well as a for-
ward push.

4. Before purchasing a wheel make
an arrangement with the dealer where
by you may be allowed to make trials
of different saddles until you find one
that is perfectly comfortable, for a.
properly fitting saddle is the most nec-
essary element in safe and comfortable
riding. No one saddle will fit all rid-
ers; sometimes many must be tried
before the correCt model is found. In
cline to a saddle that is stifi and mod-
erately provided with springs, and
which is broad and short, rather than
long and narrow. A soft saddle, wheth-
er of padded leather or inflated rubber,
will always chafe when ridden a long
distance. The pomniel found on the
majority of saddles is a very neces-
sary adjunct; it cannot be dispensed
with. There must be sufiicient cut out
at the sides of the saddle so that there
will be no interference with the mus-
cles of the interior and posterior aspect
of the thigh on the downward stroke.
This lack of common concavity to the
sides is a common defect in the many
so-called anatomical saddles. The
most important object to be attained in
the adjustment of the saddle is to have
the pommel high enough to give the
body a. slight tendency to slip back-
ward.

5. The average woman should never
ride a wheel geared higher than 04
inches; the average man higher than
70 inches. Remember that the higher
the gear, the greater the power rc«
quired to move a given distance.

6. After having become accustomed
to a bicycle, never take a ride so long
that a good night’s sleep will not on-
tirely remove all traces of fatigue.
Twenty-five to fifty miles a day, ac«
cording to the surface of the country.
should not be exceeded by the average
rider.

7. Always walk up a steep hill; it
saves your heart-

8. Never ride simply with the idea of
arriving at the earliest possible mo-
ment at a given destination; ride for
the pleasure that is to be gotten from
it.

9., While riding use the same sense
in drinking that you would in water!
ing a horse. Also, like a horse, stick
closely to water as a beverage. Re-
member that alcohol stimulates the
heart and circulation in much the same
way that exercise does, and that if
you use it in any form while wheel-

ing the reaction is speedy and long-

reaching. _

10. Never ride on a full stomach; it
will interfere with the heart's action
and respiration.

 

A SUGGESTION FROM PARIS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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FASHION GOSSIP.

If a woman would have the latest
elegance in silk petliunits, she most
avoid the rustling kind and wear
dainty, soft brocaded silk skirts, ruf-
fled with silk crepe.

Narrow fancy belts are quite as
popular as ever, and the latest Dow-l-
ty is'of white leather, with Clasps of
gold and turquoise. The belt clasp>
are all more ornate than ever. being
studded with rhinestones, imitation
jewels and pearls. and fashioned in

rococo designs of both enamelled and

plain gold.

The new spring coat will have vari‘
ety in style to recommend it, but tht
one which is expected to lead is in;
"W'atte-au" sacque, with plain
straight fronts and' a plait in the
back, and cut so that it outlines the
figure at the side. Other jackets are
on the older of the reefer. fit lit'z-I'l’
closely in the back, and Ill"; either
single or double—breasted.

‘ r

combinations of color

 

CANVAS IN PLACE OF MOHAIR.

Bodices More and More Elaine-rut. -—;‘:m
Blouse Efi't‘ct Still licizn-n

 

 

(By Special Arrangement with the N. Y. Sm.“

Tailor-built dresses are usually the
first. to blossom out in the spring, and
here is a model in a pale tint of violel
cloth. One handsome jeweled button
fastens the bolero over a‘full vest of
green silk, and dark violet velvet
forms the belt. Applique embroidery
of irridescent cord on green silk forms
the trimming of the skirt and jacket.

 

In black gowns, which are 'always
worn, there is a moire velour, with a
plain skirt lined with pink. The front
of the bodice is of embroidered black
llssc, and the bolero of black glace
silk, covered with black net richly jew-
eled with turquoise, silver and jet.
Pale blue velvet finishes the edge of
the revers, being put on. in a narrow.
twist, trims the collar, and lines the
bows on the top of the sleeves.

 

/.//‘

Eglantine barege forms the next cos~
tunic, which is made with the fashion—
able accordion-plaited skirt. The yoke,
epaulets. and sleeves are tucked in
groups, finished with small fancy but-
tons up the back. The epaulets and
opening of the bodice up the side are
finished with a. kilted frill of mauve
chiffon. and the belt is of Nile green
satin ribbon. Pale blue and petuhia
and heliotrope and old rose are new
. this season,
which are very effective if the right
shades are chosen, and pale green
with brown is another popular con-
trast.

 

' The’ bodice is becoming more and
more elaborate all the time. .and the
art of making this tucked and trimmed
and shirt-ed combination a distin-
guished success is quite beyond the
commonplace dressmaker. \Vhethei
the material is gathered or plaitcd, it
is still good style to have the blouse
effect in front, the fullness falling a lit-
tle over the belt, which may be of any
width most becoming to the figure.

Canvas, in all its varying weaves.
striped. figured, and plain, is decidedly
the leading material in wool for all
sorts of plain and dressy gowns to be
worn in the early spring and all
through the summer. They have quite
superseded the mohair-s, which were so
popular last season, and thc only kind
of mohair which is at all fashionable
is a very fine and silky quality.

Health in Flute Playing.‘

An eminent medical man says that
the instrument least detrimental to
health of aspiring musicians is the
flute. Its practice, he asserts, is not
only free from risk, but it may also be
indulged in, with positive benefit to
the health, flute-playing being a cap}
tal substitute for walking exorcise.

 

FLASHES OF HUMOR- "

Latest, Funny Things Evolved by Our Es-
teamed Contemporalesy ' ,
lie—If we were not in a canoe I
would kiss you.
Sho~Take me ashore metantly, sir.
—I’ick-Me-Up. ' ,

 

When the average man is satisfied
be generally keeps still, reserving his
conversational power until he has a.
grievance.

She—Why does a woman take a.
man's name when they get married?

lie—Why does she take every-thing
he’s got?—Boston Glob-e.

Miss Gow-ans—I envy the way you
can talk to Mr. Caustique; he never
s;ts on any of your remarks.

Miss Gotham—No; I make them too
pointed—J udge.

Cooney Cohen—Mcin sohn, vhy did
you guarantee dot overcoad to lasd
Mr. Nixy as long as he lives?

Young Cohen—Fader, he has heart
disease—ho dies any minu-tel—Harlcm
Life. ‘

Gentleman—W'hat is your hurry,
Pat? Haven’t you all day in which to
finish the job?

I’wt—Begorra. Oi’m throyin’ (to finish
me job before the dom paint gives out.
—Judgc.

Last year 4,000,000,000 cigarettes
were smoked in this country. It is not
countenancing the youth-killing joke
to say such numbers are calculated to
take away peOple’s breath—Philadel-
phia Times.

Bingo—J shouldn’t think you could
afford to let your wife go to so many
m-atinces.

Kingley—Why not? It keeps her
away from the dry goods stores at
least two hours and a half.

 

He—As near as I can get at it. the
general idea of heaven seems to be
a place where it is always sununer.

She—Yes, and the proportion of men
to women will be about as it is at
most of the summer resorts. Am I
right?

Daughter—51‘his pianqo is. really my
very own, isn’t it. pa?

I’a—ch, my dear.

“And when I marry I can take it
with me, can I?"

“Certainly, my child; but don‘t tell
anyone; it might spoil yor chances.”~—
Tit-Bits.

“Is; dis where‘dey want a boy?"

“It is; but he must be a boy who
never utters an un-lruth and docs not
use slang or swear. and never speaks
unless he is spoken to.” ,

“'0“, me brodder’s a deaf mute.
I’ll send ’im ’round."—-Church Prog‘
ress.

 

Sport Il‘riend—Vl'hatdo you call ’lell,
Tom?

Torn—“'0 haven’t named them yet,
but my wife. who is a member of the
Episcopal Church, thinks ‘of calling
them “Cherubim” and Scraphhn'” be-
cause -thcy continually do cry—«From
Texas Sifter.

A newspaper publisher in-an Ok—
lahoma town. where the women ro—
eently carried the election. sent the
following order to a supply house:—
“Plcase send us one small cut 'of a
hen. Women carried the election here
and I suppose we will have to swing
out a bra instead of a rooster.”—
Cleveland Plain Dealer.

 

“We shall soon have the worst." ht.
muttered.

Ho nervously flitted from place to
place. pausing now and then to swing
his hands. ,

“We shall soon know.”

His wife was about to substitute col~
Iar bu’ttcns for pins, and he felt that
a crisis for a new woman was at
hand—Detroit Tribune.

A man was in the dock charged
with theft. IIe pleaded “guilty,” but
the jury’s verdict was “not guilty.”
The judge was not at all satisfied with
the result of the ‘trial and remarked
to the prisoner: “You do not leave
this court without a stain upon your
character, for by your own confession
you are a thief‘ and by the verdict of

the jury you are a liar."—l‘ick-Me-Up. '

 

Cornshucks—Bings is getting to be
a humorist.

Redwood—J haven’t noticed it.

Cornshucks—He is. I passed his
house yesterday and he was sitting on
hte porch with his feet over the rail-
ing where the sun would strike them.
He said he was putting a coat of tan
on his shoes—Cleveland Plaindealer.

 

 

HIS RULING PASSION.

A ‘

 
 

I

(
lift

ll e
([UJl‘ I ‘—
w .

 

 

 

Proprietor-Pat, how do . . the
fight?

Pat—Oi only have wan ot

Proprietor—What is that‘.

Pat—Oi can“)? .37.: in it.—— , r1,

' Herald.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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